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ineffable-endearments · 9 months

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Exactly what are the different exactlies?

During this season, it's pretty clear that Aziraphale and Crowley both adore each other and humanity and want very much to be together. It's also pretty clear that, even before Heaven came and made Aziraphale an offer he probably couldn't refuse, he and Crowley weren't quite on the same page regarding...well, just what they are.

What the heck? How can their feelings be so mutual and so out of sync?

Well, I always said Aziraphale was the collectivist and Crowley was the individualist, and Season 2 has only made me more certain of it. These sound like such boring and dry concepts, but they get to the heart of even their most extreme issues - for example, Aziraphale's denial about Heaven as a dangerous place originates with his incredibly deep-seated need to believe in and belong to a collective.

At his worst, Aziraphale can subsume Crowley - jumping so enthusiastically on the "our car" bandwagon that he changed a bunch of things about the Bentley is an excellent example of how he was basically ready to assimilate Crowley into his own identity. And, of course, had he actually brought Crowley back to Heaven, that, too, would have taken away everything that makes Crowley himself. This is Aziraphale being a "rebound mess," feeling at loose ends because he's lost his sense of belonging with Heaven and wants Crowley to meet all these newly-dangling emotional needs.

But at his best, Aziraphale helps connect Crowley to others and to the world. He's usually the one introducing individual humans to Crowley. He gives Crowley excuses to be helpful, both to him and to others. He pulls Crowley into fun, more pleasurable human activities, like eating oysters at Petronius's and watching Shakespeare plays, when Crowley is having trouble seeing anything but work. At the end of both seasons, Aziraphale has been the one who insisted on actively pushing for a greater cause.

Of course Aziraphale was drawn back into Heaven. Whether you're considering his weakest points, like his need for approval from anyone he believes has authority, or his strongest, like his genuine wish for things to be Better For Everyone, he leans into collectives.

At his worst, Crowley can isolate Aziraphale. Aziraphale is sort of Crowley's one major interpersonal commitment, and while Aziraphale enjoys this, it does create a lopsided situation where they're each focused on different things. And Crowley loves humans conceptually, but because he wants to avoid the pain of getting attached to mortals, he is pretty quick to let his connections to humans go. While influencing Aziraphale away from Heaven is a good thing, Crowley doesn't have another very strong community to influence Aziraphale toward.

But at his best, Crowley has helped Aziraphale develop himself outside of the corrupt institution that has tried so hard to crush every ounce of conscience and individuality out of him. Many of the Earthly pleasures that Aziraphale tries to draw Crowley toward are things that Crowley introduced him to in the first place! Crowley's individualism encourages Aziraphale to try things that he's been conditioned not to try, and then Aziraphale's instinct for getting attached to things he enjoys can take over.

Of course Crowley has to think of himself and Aziraphale as an isolated unit. That's a clear-eyed view of what they really are in the world of immortal beings.

Now, I've argued before that Heaven is all about the Collective and Hell is all about hard-scrabble individualism. We have these two Sides, one of which demands its angels give up all individuality and follow the group at all costs, and the other of which demands its demons constantly fight for their own survival with a desperate scarcity of space and resources.

It's through time on Earth and the things they admire about each other that Crowley and Aziraphale have become different from Heaven and Hell, respectively. Aziraphale is thrilled to have discovered himself, someone who exists outside of Heaven. Crowley, meanwhile, is thrilled to connect with someone else in a gentle, intimate way that Hell would never allow. But Aziraphale still has that need to Belong baked in, and Crowley will always need to be his own boss with his own priorities.

Fortunately, there is a "side" that is really very good at creating smaller, more intimate groups within larger societies, fulfilling both needs, and that is Humanity.

#good omens #go s2 #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #go s2 spoilers

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tinfairies · 2 years

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aemond catching the reader taking care of a baby dragon that’s hungry and needs attention (so cute) without fear and he is completely enamored by it? 💓

Anon asked: Can you make a hc of Aemond opening up to the reader about his insecurities?

I mixed these two asks

Keeper of his Heart

Aemond Targaryen x GN!Reader

Aemond had gotten tired of his brother rather quickly that day. Aegon had brought up his favorite subject; the pig, and his eye. Aemond quickly excused himself, ignoring his brother telling him to "Stop being so sensitive."

The young prince wished he could take his brothers eye just to show him how it feels. Aegon's whores would surely turn in fear.

Aemond made his way to the Dragon Pit, he needed to clear his head. A ride on Vhagar may accomplish that. As he approached, he nodded a greeting to the Keepers.

The men looked at each other, almost in fear. Then one stepped forward. "Uh, your grace. Vhagar has brought back an egg. We don't think it's hers, but she refuses to give it up." the Keeper stated at his feet as he spoke, not wanting to look Aemond in the face.

"Let her have it, maybe if she hatches it I'll have two dragons." the prince smirked and continued his way into the Pit. He said hello to Sunfyre and Dreamfyre as he passed them.

The deeper into the Pit he went the more he started to hear this odd noise. It was like small screeching, but not of pain. More like laughter. Curiously he slowed his pace as he turned the corner to Vhagar's den.

There he saw his favorite Keeper, they had always had a kind word for him and never feared to look him right in the eye.

The Keepers back was turned and Vhagar was intensely focused on what was in their lap. She hadn't even noticed her rider. Aemond continued watching from afar, wondering what could possibly have his old girl so enthralled.

Soon that question was answered, he saw the flutter of tiny wings. Small screeches and growls echoed through the den, as well as laughter from the Keeper.

Aemond was in shock, they were playing with a baby dragon. Completely without fear, with childlike wonder even.

Vhagar huffed and stared at the Keeper. That must have been the hatchling from the egg she found, Aemond thought. How crazy it was to think that this Keeper is able to play with a hatchling in front of its mother. Whether she laid it or not.

Aemond smiled, and stepped forward finally gaining Vhagar's attention. The great she-dragon gave a rumbling purr in response as she looked at him. The Keeper turned around, and smiled when they saw the prince.

"Look what Vhagar brought home, my prince!" the Keeper lifted the hatchling. It's scales were a deep green, and the wing webbing was a golden yellow. It was beautiful.

Aemond approached the Keeper and the hatchling. "You're not afraid?" he asked as he came to a stop, staring down at them on the floor.

"Why should I be? If you respect a dragon it will respect you. You can't show fear." the Keeper responded, their eyes never leaving his.

The prince hummed, he knew this Keeper was special. He lowered himself onto the floor next to them. "What are you going to name it?" he referred to the dragon.

The Keeper looked at him wide eyed. "It's not mine to name, I can't ride a dragon. I'm not a Targaryen." they protested.

Aemond could think of a few way to remedy the Targaryen issue, he smirked at the thought. "Well, it seems you'll have to tell that to the baby in your arms." the hatchling nestled itself further in the Keepers lap, preparing for a nap.

They stared into Aemond's eye, a beautiful smoky blue, they thought. "Why is it you always wear your patch? Certainly your scar can't be that bad."

The prince scoffed a laugh. Then looked to the ground, they had not been around when he was maimed. Only arriving after he started wearing the patch in his late teens. They never got to see the way men and women alike, would turn away from him in fear and disgust. Even when he began wearing his sapphire, the whispering and teasing never stopped.

Aemond worked hard to become someone to fear, no one would dare say anything to the man that can have their head in seconds. Aside from Aegon unfortunately.

"I promise, this patch keeps you from the horror below." Aemond looked back up at the Keeper. "It's a scar, and a missing eye. A horrible thing that happened to you. You shouldn't be feared for what others have done." their voice was steady as they spoke.

"My dear, I wish that were true."

#house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones headcanons #game of thrones #Game of thrones x reader #got imagine #got headcanons #got x reader #Got

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justanotherdrfan · 3 months

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WELCOME ALL DANNY FANGIRLS TO YOUR INSTALMENT OF DANIEL RICCIARDO’S DTS BREAKDOWN! 🍯🦡

I’m leaving this one open since you all skipped straight to this episode! (I waited and I don’t know how)😂

S6E9 (Three’s a Crowd)

GIF by @arturleclerc

DANNNNNNNNYYY BOYYY 😍😍😍😍😍😍

He’s already laughing (god I love him)

‘Alright, what’s up?, Daniel Ricardo, this is season six drive to survive, and yes I’m back’ (fangirling HARD)

WAIT HE WAS IN SYDNEY, HE WAS IN FUCKING SYDNEY (why did no one tell me I would have called sick at work)

Daniel and Blake I really wish you went ahead with that podcast because you two are poetic chaos together

Cue another Daniel montage (they have his whole discography on file don’t they?)

He looks so fucking tried though

Logan and Alex talking about DTS frothing at the mouth about Daniel returning is the most factually, correct thing I’ve ever heard 😂

Logan: ‘All I know is the most excited people when Danny Ricciardo came back was Netflix.’

Alex: ‘I literally think they had to change their pants three times. I know the episode already. Let…let me run it through. Ready? Here we have Danny Ricciardo watching on the sidelines. “Yeah, it hurts to not be racing.” Then all of a sudden, pans to Nyck de Vries. Lock up. [imitates brakes screeching]. Off the track. Crash. Oh shit! Boom. Fast-forward. Silverstone. Test. Daniel Ricciardo. Super quick. [laughs] Danny looking at it like…big smile on his face. “It is what it is. You know?” [man]“I never left” “I never left. I’m back,baby. Honey Badger. Don’t give a shit.” (Hire him now DTS because he nailed that)

Fuck why they got to follow that shit with Zandvoort though

Daniel whoring about in his Enchante tattoo thigh high shorts

“Feels right. Feels good” (It sure does Danny is sure does)

EVERYONE LOVES DANIEL

And they get him straight to a photoshoot to whore him out

THEY DID NOT USE HIM WINKING IN THE INTRO (da fuck you lot doing? Give the people what they want)

Yes Christian 2025 prospect (he’s a shoe in ahh? See what I did there) 😉👟🍾

FUCK YOU MICAHEL ITALIANO (why is he getting air time) I’m glad he’s left F1

OHH NO OHH NO OHH NO NO NO NO NO NO

IM CRYING AGAIN. I CRIED WHEN IT HAPPENED AND IM CRYING AGAIN

Ohh they have his X-ray

Clairey bear

Cue Liam Lawson (I do love you but I missed Danny terribly)

The others telling Liam to be prepared (this is very welcome to our toxic work environment)

‘She doesn’t even go here’ (a Danica story)

Liam out qualifies all the red bull drivers (yes kiddo)

DANNY BACKS (SCREWS AND ALL) for engineering purposes only

Umm why are you hurting him? DONT TOUCH HIM! (Look yes I know it’s physiotherapy and he needs it. But I’ve broken my hand before the left one as well and driving a normal road car caused me to cry in pain so when I say don’t touch him I mean it)

I SWEAR TO GOD ZAK YOU STAY THEY HELL AWAY FROM HIM

Checo clips Yuki and he’s out (he probably thought it was Daniel trying to take his seat. It’s his in 2025 mate there’s no fighting it)

Ohh look Alpine with reliability issues (things you continue to see)

Yes DTS let’s show Russel’s crash from another angle 😂

POINTS FOR LIAM 🎉🥳

Are we positive he was in Sydney and not Perth?

Yes king SWEAT SWEAT SWEAT

Yuki GP time

Not Suzuka having Daniel, Yuki and Liam on all the banners

Poor Yuki being overwhelmed by the fans. I understand fans being excited but he’s cornered in the car and clearly doesn’t feel safe (and for Michael to be like it’s ok the fans are happy is actually the problem at hand. His and all the drivers safety has to come first and he point blank didn’t feel safe you arsehole Michael so it’s not okay)

Yuki honey it’s okay Liam not going to hit you

If we can’t have an Aussie a Kiwi will do

Liam finding out Daniel’s and Yuki are getting announced for 2024 🥺

Liam mate I’m sorry you deserve better

Mexi-coooooo

HES BACK BACK

Yes yes your P10 in the constructors (just you wait, just you fucking wait)

Checo out before turn 1 (its AUSGP all over again)

Ohh look another McLaren/Alpha Tauri incident 😤

No McLaren the plan is not to attack Daniel (haven’t you fucking done enough?)

P7 BABBYYYYYY

ENCHANTE, MON AMI

See your P8 now (told you to wait and see)

Yes Christian, Daniel did drive a good race (remember that and who didn’t)

Look at him and his little moustache

Will: ‘ I think this is only part one of a far wider story.’ (Yes 2024 season will be epic for Danny Ric)

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manlicker69 · 11 months

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★ Characters involved :: Post mafia Dazai Osamu; BSD/ Bungou Stray Dogs, male reader/self insert (sorry i'm super gay lolzies)

★ Genre :: sfw, angst, nsfw

★ Contains :: sexy , romantic love and sex , anxiety/panic attacks, depression, self harm, suicide (thoughts,attempts,ideations) , dead dove do not eat? , softy dazai , you can tell I'm extremely mentally ill :skull:

★ A/N :: If you're struggling with any aspect of your mental health or self harm, please seek help. I know what those dark times, thoughts, and feelings feel like. It's scary reaching out to people, but it is such a big help for your mental health and safety. Please be careful reading the "angst" section if you continue. | Have any suggestions or requests? Hit me up in my inbox! I will review anything you have to say!! :3

SFW UNDER CUT!

loves playing with your hair

like he'll be doing anything and he'll twirl your hair, braid it, play with it, anything

will unconsciously nibble or suck on your skin or smth

You'll be cuddling and he'll just suck on your fingers or arms like a baby

post pm dazai is such a cuddler like it's crazy

he'll embrace you in your arms like it's the last day on earth

SUPER CLINGYYY

you two would be at work and he gets withdraws just from not being next to you

such a praiser

he loves everything about you, and needs you to understand that

loves listening to music with you, your energy gives him more life than anyone else he's met

(for fellow autistic folks out there)

stimming? HE'LL STIM WITH YOU!!!! respectfully!!!

grrr you want to info dump abt your special interets(s) ???? he's so in love with the way you get excited and talk, he'll listen for hours

overstimulated???? will get everything you need to create a nest of comfort until the war passes

ANGST UNDER CUT!

cuddles your struggles away

panic/anxiety attack? he'll cradle you until the world stops spinning

once you're calm enough and you've given him consent, he would give slow, soft pecks and kisses to your face

self harm struggles? he knows how you feel

will talk with you about what's going through your mind

would bandage you up with lots of kisses and praise

he might even draw on your bandages so you wouldn't think of the pain when looking at them

late night talks

suicidal thoughts? he knows how to talk to you in this state

it's hard for him to see you suffer through things that he's been through

holds you no matter what through dark times

suicide attempts? he'll be your biggest supporter in life no matter what

he would never leave your side for a while (as if he isn't clingy enough)

wouldn't blame you, would only try to make your life happier, as he wish others did to him

depressed? cuddles and late night talks will help!

he understands everything you say, and knows how to make you feel better

self image issues? baby boy you're so handsome

kisses you in his favorite spots on your body

praises you non stop when he can tell you're not in a good mood

experienced S/A? will comfort you however he can to help you cope

its a depressing and harsh process to treat PTSD, so dazai lets you go at your own pace

only if you're determined enough to go through it

if you don't, he will constantly make sure he doesn't trigger you in any way

listens to mitski with you

NSFW UNDER CUT!

holy shit he's so hot

constantly asks for consent, because he should AND he always needs to know you're enjoying him

scars? embraces the fuck out of them

sometimes he'll even give you hickies over healed scars so all you'll think about is him

if he's feeling playful, maybe he'll even tickle you

everything's about you pretty boy

small dick/t-dick? he doesn't care, you're still just as handsome

he'll play with your sensitive areas as much as he wants, but he does it for his and your pleasure

loves seeing you squirm and hearing you whimper, moan, all that jazz

when he's inside you? oh my god

grab your hair, hips, anything, he's deathly attracted to your everything

usually he takes stuff slow and romantic, but if you two are feeling it then hell yeah you'll fuck to the moon!

you didn't come yet? do you wanna talk about it, or just let him fuck you into oblivion until you do?

lovesssss feeling you up, like good god you were gifted with such a beautiful body

kisses kisses kisses

loves when you kiss him too, finds it adorable when you drool on him lol

nipples?!??1/?!?!?!? it's his fav lollipop flavor

he's so romantic asjhskjks he can just make you hard doing pretty much anythinggg

stim during sex? he doesn't mind, he might even participate with you if he's feeling playful

stimming while giving him head? he loves seeing you enjoy yourself, stim on his cock all you want!

vocal stims/tics during sex? finds it hotter than normal because he's just ramming himself inside of you and you're enjoying yourself so much!!

mute? the sounds you make when he thrusts into you is enough for him, he’ll love you however you are!!!!

(might add if I think of more)

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littlegreekhero · 1 month

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TimLonnie headcanons

This is a continuation to my last post :3

Mostly platonic stuff (since i hc lon as aroace), but open to romantic interpretation!

Lonnie is Tim's go-to yapper. Need someone to fight with? Tim just drops a pro-state take mid conversation with anyone and the next thing he knows, Lonnie is yelling with text-to-speech in his earbuds. Need to be grounded about an ethical dilemma? Ask no one but Lonnie. Tim enjoys getting him mad and heated about a subject a little too much and the way he laughs makes it seem like Red Robin is a villain in Anarky comics, and not vice versa.

Midnight confessions with Lonnie go hard. Tim's trying to solve a case about a maniacal genius and Lon casually drops "Red, this seems just like the time i tried to fuse my two brain lobes together, you might want to look into it."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN you tried to fuse your brain lobes together??!? GEE LON,,, is this why we havent been able to pull you out of comatose FOR YEARS??"

Or like "Tim, I know your relationship with a father figure to whom you don't know to which extent you relate to can be hard. I can empathise through my relationdhip with Joker." "With- HUH?"

Tim helps build Lon's mobility aids, devices, and with thorough work of a few years, he's back to not being bound to bed.

Tim also helps him do his hair, because being a badass redhead with a long curly mullet is a lot of work for physically disabled Lonnie.

Bernard thinks Lonnie is an imaginary friend of Tim's at first like when he claimed Stephanie was a made up girlfriend. Tim doesn't correct him for once.

Then one day a mechatronic shows up at the door and asks for Tim Drake. "I was informed he would be around here?" A creepy voice box announces. Bernard screams so hard you would think he's back in the pain cult.

Tim and Lonnie go for picnics in abandoned (ahem, community owned) buildings in Gotham, in costume.

Tim keeps the extra mannequin head Lonnie used to stuff in his costume as memorabilia from their childhood.

Lonnie Machin is the financial advisor of Wayne Entreprises' charities and foundations... uhh.. at least for an hour, before all the bank accounts have been hacked into and the money distributed to said charities and global organisations Lonnie founded through the Ünter/Internet. Tim is grounded for issuing a fake identity to an old villain to do the same villain activity he did years ago.

Red Robin has to pretend to not to see a lot of things Anarky does to keep up with his public image. They kind of continue a fake beef going in between them like old times to keep away suspicion.

"Tim what if he turns back into a villain, how can you trust him so blindly?" "Oh, i would not wish it in any circumstance. He has control over everything i own, after all." "Everything?" "Moneyspider, open my belt pockets please, i crave a snack."

"Lonnie, how can you trust a Bat? Don't you still think he will become detrimental to the cause with this hero bullshit one day?" "I would not wish it in any circumstance, Red pays my physical therapy bills. Plus, he has unlimited access to everything i built." "How unlimited?" "Red, what was the password to my classified files again?'

(Its still "password") (Im still so not over the fact that the options were 1- bakunin 2- proudhon and 3- password)

Lonnie, every now and then changes up Tim's password for safety reasons, and forgets to inform him. This has led to Tim getting logged out of Batfam comms and shit. He hates it but the alternative is him recieving a voicemail randomly in the middle of the night.

Like its 4:20 a.m. and Lonnie randomly drops a 65 digit password. Tim is now up and very annoyed.

#headcanon #anarky #anarky dc #lonnie machin #moneyspider #timlon #timlonnie #tim drake #red robin #lonnie hcs #red robin 2009

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cherrypeaking · 1 year

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five steps — intro (hueningkai x fem!reader story) additional platonic!ot4 x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k words

summary: you’ve lost complete contact with your boyfriend out of nowhere. kai, your best friend, wants to be here to comfort you all the way through… if it weren’t for his own secret feelings for you…

content warning: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst (?), the reader uses she/her pronouns, has attachment issues, very low self esteem, intrusive/dark thoughts, fear of abandonment, mentions of ghosting

a/n: i’ve decided to divide this story in seven parts! thank you so much to everyone who read my other works 🥹 just hoping this is okay haha

Sent on 12/16/2022.

You sighed, putting your phone away and hiding yourself under your blankets.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t remember anything positive out of whatever that happened in that relationship. All you could focus on was the pain your, now, ex put you through.

Had it not been for Hueningkai, your best friend, you weren’t sure how that would’ve turnt out.

“I-it’s been two weeks Hyuka… I don’t understand… I can see he’s online… I haven’t seen him in weeks… he isn’t answering my messages anymore…” Kai listened to you with an aching heart, trying to pull you close to him.

“I’m… I’m sorry Y/N… I don’t want to… give you false hopes… or the opposite…” he mumbled back, earning a pained sob from you.

Imagining your life without your boyfriend was completely impossible. You had centered your life around him. Your friends had told you a few times that you seemed completely disconnected and that it was worrisome.

You never listened to them, until the bastard decided to completely cut ties with you out of nowhere. Now you were dealing with all the obvious consequences of his behavior.

It was only then, that you really came to terms with how unhealthy your feelings for that man were, but you couldn’t help yourself.

As though there were two sides of you, one that knew rationally speaking that detaching yourself a little from your boyfriend was the best thing to do. But the other didn’t want to.

“Y/N?” Kai’s voice brought you back to reality.

You pulled away, never looking him in the eyes.

“I… I just… I’m terrified… of being abandoned again…” you let out, Kai immediately covered your hands in his.

“Why would you say that? I’m here…”

Tears streaked down your cheeks uncontrollably when he said that, because you oh so wished you could believe him. He was your best friend after all.

However, and that was just how everything was, you could never be certain. And given the circumstances, you were convinced everyone would leave you anyway.

“What if you left too? I… I don’t know what I’d do with myself… I… I think I…” Kai didn’t want you to finish your sentence.

He could only assume the worst of your thoughts. Thus he rummaged through his bed and covers a little bit only to present you with one of his bigger plushies.

“Tobin? Tobin is amazing at comforting people…” although you were about to tell Kai how distraught you were, his actions always managed to make you smile.

You took the stuffed bunny in your arms and buried your face in its mellow material.

Once again, you started sobbing, trying to cry the pain away.

It’s because you’re a terrible person.

Everyone is going to leave you.

Everything would be better without you.

You’re a piece of trash.

People like you don’t deserve love.

Thoughts were spiraling in your mind over, and over, and over.

You felt so much hatred and disgust towards yourself. You felt as if, no one would be able to save you from that pain.

“I… I hate myself…” you whimpered, keeping your head in Tobin’s belly.

Kai couldn’t bring himself to leave you alone. All he did was stay there with you, until your tears had worn you out so much that you ended up falling asleep.

“You should’ve seen her… I can’t believe that asshole did that to her…” Yeonjun hissed a little, not being used to hearing his friend curse like that.

Kai had asked Yeonjun, his oldest friend, to come over his flat. He did not trust himself fully to take care of you on his own — for more reasons than one.

“I know you like her, Kai.” Yeonjun began, having the said boy look his way. “But you can’t let her current state affect you so much…” he added.

Kai looked down, needing time to collect his thoughts after hearing his friend out.

He was right. Kai knew he was.

“It’s difficult… Y/N is your friend too… don’t you understand me?” He asked, tilting his head back towards Yeonjun, who frowned before joining Kai on the couch.

“I can’t pretend I do…”

Obviously you were among Yeonjun’s worries, but he knew Kai was not only your best friend, but also crushing on you since middle school. He couldn’t claim to know exactly how his friend was feeling when it came to you.

Kai sighed, not expecting Yeonjun to pat his shoulder though.

“However… if you’re really worried about her… so am I. You know her the best…” The elder added.

“I lent her Tobin… for tonight… because she was crying so much… I hate that she is in pain…” Hueningkai mumbled, fiddling with his hands.

Yeonjun knew where the latter was getting at.

“Do you want me to go get Molang?” he offered, earning a shy nod from Kai.

With a small wince, Yeonjun went on to find Kai’s second big plushie.

Meanwhile, Kai merely stayed there, on the couch, ruminating.

Seeing you in tears, for a loser like him… it breaks my heart.

Sadness.

I hate that asshole so much, no one should break your heart like this.

Anger.

If I were your boyfriend… nothing like this would’ve ever happened… I would’ve protected you…

Protectiveness.

If he completely listened to all the emotions he was feeling in his heart, Kai would probably do a lot of things he would regret later on.

“Here, that little guy is bigger than I remembered.” Yeonjun handing him his plushie distanced him from the thoughts.

He giggled, taking Molang in his arms.

“It’s because you have to make sure he eats well!” He replied, in a childish tone.

Yeonjun snorted a little.

So cute.

He joined Kai on the couch so they could discuss.

“You know… it’s going to be hard for her… they say there are five stages of grief… so it’s obviously gonna take time for her to move on.” Yeonjun broke the mild silence that was going to set in.

Kai solely kept his nose on Molang’s head, trying to calm his thoughts down. He felt that it was better to just let Yeonjun go on with what he was saying.

“Also, she has to go through this on her own… You wouldn’t want her to start depending on you just as a replacement for her ex right?” Those words made Kai freeze a bit.

“We should definitely take her out sometime… to help her distract herself, you know? But if you just stay with her, only you, all the time… it’s not gonna end well for either of you…” Yeonjun rubbed his chin, not knowing what else to say.

All he wanted was to protect both of his friends from a potential second heartbreak.

Kai slightly pulled away from Molang, chuckling.

“Since when did you become my therapist?” he asked in a light tone.

That made the elder scoff in surprise, bringing his thumb in his mouth.

“Speaking from personal experience…” he began, his jaw getting tense.

“Oh no… hyung I’m sorry…” Kai pouted, putting Molang away — next to him.

Out of nowhere, Yeonjun started making kissy faces and throwing his arms at him for a hug.

“This is why I don’t want my babie Hueningie to suffer okay?” It was very Yeonjun of him to do.

However it did take the poor boy aback and he got off the couch, trying to escape the elder’s arms.

“Hyung! I’m serious!” Kai whined, pushing Yeonjun away, despite his kiss attacks.

They both laughed it out, the situation being pretty silly. When Yeonjun had had enough of being pushed away by his friend, he sat back down, next to Kai.

That was when the latter suddenly spoke up.

“There are five stages of grief they say hm?” Yeonjun tilted his head, confused with Kai’s rhetorical question.

He just nodded, waiting for what he was about to say next.

“And Y/N has five friends… the five of us…” Kai added, looking at the elder who still did not understand a thing of what he was saying.

“Yeah…? And…?”

Kai solely smiled, and the little sparkle in his eyes seemed to reassure Yeonjun immediately.

“Hyung, please call the others. I have an idea.”

Today was Sunday, which meant tomorrow would be Monday — the first day of a busy week.

#txt x reader #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai x you #hueningkai x y/n #txt scenarios #txt angst #hueningkai angst #txt x you #txt x y/n

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dropintomanga · 26 days

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Don't See Yourself As a Cuckoo

I started reading Chica Umino's March Comes In Like a Lion after years of hearing about its great outlook on characters dealing with a variety of emotional issues. In particular, its main character, Rei Kiriyama and his struggles to come to terms with his past involving a surrogate parental figure who raised him after his family died, but ignored their own kids for the sake of Rei's future.

I see this first hand near the end of the 1st volume when Rei reminisces about the past and how he got into shogi.

It's scary that I felt the same as Rei about 13 years ago. I remember one time where I felt like I was dragging my family down a hell hole when we moved into a new living situation. I was dealing with so much uncertainty and didn't know how to handle it. I think at the time, we had limited resources. I felt that I was selfish because I wanted to move to a better place badly over everyone else's preferences, but my sister reminded me that I wasn't the only one who wanted out. She even said my thinking was warped. I think I was just so afraid of hurting my family and felt they had to do so much for my depression. I wanted them to stop helping me. I felt like a cuckoo despite not actually being a cuckoo.

When I look back at that time now, I realized that I was facing a new situation that I was overreacting to. It's fine to react in ways that make you fearful, but there's a point where it affects your relationships in not-so-healthy ways. You have to be realistic and trust in the people around you despite what your inner critic says.

Rei's quote about being a bird and free of emotional pain reminded me of my experiences with birds. I used to have a pet African finch and felt that he had it much easier than me. He got to eat, sing, fly around, sleep, poop, etc. And then I remember my finch lived in a cage and was taken care of by creatures (i.e. human beings) that he can't exactly communicate with. There's no freedom for him here. And even if my finch was free and roaming, he would have to deal with how vicious wild birds are due to being domesticated. My finch died in 2019 after 11 years of raising him and while I do think he lived a long life for his kind, I have to be careful in saying he lived a good life.

After my finch died, I later discovered an avian center that housed birds of all kinds that were on display while walking on a lunch break from work. There were a variety of them living in a special housing display for everyone to see. All of them were either injured, old, and/or couldn't be raised by regular folks. I had a lot of joy looking at those birds and would walk by to see them almost all the time. Some of them did die over time, but the birds reminded me how important it is to recognize that we deserve people to care for us when life deals us a terrible hand. I still stop by the avian center bird display because all the birds there are precious to me.

I sometimes wished I was a bird because it sucks being sad a good amount. It sucks to cry when you least expect it. And then I think about what that actually will entail. I don't want to anthropomorphize animals because it's hard to compare.

The grand truth is that everyone and everything (humans/animals/plants) goes through pain in some fashion. We decay and wither from time to time. That's how life works. Obviously, some pain isn't worth it. But I feel that we have to appreciate to a certain degree how we learn who we really are through our rough experiences. They make us value what's important in our lives. Despite whatever gaslighting we may get, we can get through the pain and/or live with it in healthy ways.

I will say that one thing I notice about birds is that they're usually together a lot. During the 1st year of COVID, I saw a family of mourning doves living in the back of my place for a short time. It was one of the cutest things I ever saw. The parents would fly away to look for food, while the kids parked themselves at their temporary home. I don't know how they're doing now, but I like to think that they're doing okay out there. Whenever I see families of mourning doves, I think of that one family.

Maybe a part of me still wants to be a bird - soaring into the air and being out in nature, free of modern life constraints. The real cuckoo isn't me; it's those who want us to ignore the interdependence of all things that truly makes human beings feel that they matter.

If you ever feel like you're a cuckoo, it's not your fault. You're a person who deserves the unconditional foundation to live a life full of love to process the pain you unfortunately had to deal with.

Much like what the manga seems to entail, springtime is a time to renew yourself with others around, whether human or animal, after the harshness of winter.

#March Comes In Like a Lion #manga #anime #Rei Kiriyama #depression #solitude #loneliness #birds #psychology of birds

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aotopmha · 13 days

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I haven't even started the lvl 89 Endwalker MSQ and I'm thinking about how annoying certain opinions around it are.

It's annoying me and I don't want it to distract me in my playthrough, so I'm just going to air it out via this post.

The story really clearly foreshadows what happens. In fact, it directly tells you.

But it is fairly common for people to call twists that are pretty directly foreshadowed still out of nowhere. (And of course, a text can be read in many different ways.)

And I think regardless of any of this, people still don't have to like what happens!

But I've talked about this a bunch regarding other pieces of media, and at this point, nerd criticism is so obnoxious to me because it's often so much more about telling other people how much smarter you are than the writers or the people who like their writing.

I'm not interested in listening you putting yourself on a pedestal and telling me how smart you are.

It's such a boring way to engage with art/writing to me.

In fact, it isn't even about the art, but a shitbag telling me how they would be above any of this kind of "mistakes" in their writing.

This talking point just reminds me of my most smart alec, know-it-all late teens/early twenties moments that have an air of arrogant ignorance to it. Where the criticism absolutely can have its basis, but there might be elements to the narrative decision that have issues in their own right.

It feels like certain storytelling tropes have become "taboos" regardless of how they're executed because of the perception of storytelling "rules"/"basics" being "broken", when in truth those have always been just "guidelines" and even the best-told stories probably have these "flaws" in there somewhere if you look hard enough.

If a major part of the enjoyment of a story for you depends on how many characters die and you obsessively count on your fingers who lived through impossible odds and who didn't, Final Fantasy 14 was probably never a story for you.

I say all of this as someone who at this point has seen The Endwalk probably dozens and dozens of times via playthroughs and cried at it almost every time.

(It's gonna be great for me when I get to it, I can tell!)

Because I find it incredibly meaningful regardless of any issues I might have with it.

To engage that critical mind for a second, if nothing else, I think the story absolutely does need to drop the fake death trope it likes so much, and firmly decide on the characters it kills and that alone would go a long way to reinstill a stronger sense of base tension.

In fact, I do agree that actually killing any of the long-term main characters might need to happen. (And it might need to be staged in a super unexpected way, at that.)

I just do not think Endwalker was the place to do it considering what it is about.

The obvious "hopeful" framing to everyone dying and you alone surviving would be for you to carry on their legacy/work, and the patches then would be finding new connections, but pulling this off could also send the opposite message and come across as amatuerish shock value.

Hey, life is suffering and a path for you to find the good in the bad, so guess what everyone you ever loved dies after everything they've been through!

But there is hope, though!

It looks "ballsy" to kill everyone on the surface, but actually might just thematically fly in the face of the entire story.

All of these characters that have suffered loss and much pain in their own right, yeah, all they get is death in the end!

But there is hope, though!

It's the second point that gets me the most. It would've felt so hateful to me (and it often wished for in such an hateful manner by those who wanted it to happen), especially for like G'raha who was stuck in a tower for a hundred years.

And just a single or few characters dying would feel wrong in a very specific "shock value" way, too.

Why those characters specifically?

That's not what FF14 ever was to me, not even in HW, the section of the story that had the most major deaths.

I think Thancred dying in ShB would'be been perfect, for example.

Main character, paving the way to another character after making peace with his situation with Minfilia.

Would've pretty automatically fixed the general tension issue, too, I think.

But in EW? I think the losses everyone already experienced and the suffering we saw across the entire game from ARR-EW are enough to make the point.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #FFXIV #FF14 #FF #Final Fantasy #Endwalker #EW

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hjemne · 7 months

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Ilsa, I’ve seen you posting a lot of Trigun and well I’m intrigued by it, to say the least. But just for giggles, would you try to convince me why should I watch it? 😆🤚🏻

AHHHHH!

I didn't think Trigun was going to worm its way into my brain so much but here we are. There is so much to love about it and I adore so many of the characters for a billion different ways. The character type of someone who is made into a killing machine and then is slowly convinced to accept love and forgiveness is my favourite and is all over trigun. So many characters see themselves as monstrous but choose to do what they see as right for the sake of / with the help of their friends. There are moments of silliness and of tragedy, all with an incredibly interesting setting which slowly gets revealed.

Because of the recent release of Trigun Stampede, the community is really active rn (esp on Tumblr!) and it's really cool to see so many incredible fanarts, comics, fanfics and discussions being made. It's very fun to be part of a very active fandom, but also one that is 25 years old and has fanworks that are older than I am.

I really love it, and I would recommend it, but unfortunately I also have some caveats which I gotta mention.

What you gotta know before getting into Trigun is that there are 4 different canon versions and each one has its problems. I wish I could recommend X version as the definitive and best, but that just doesn't exist which is very annoying.

1) Trigun Maximum: the manga

Good: incredible nuances to characters like Wolfwood, Knives, Livio/Razlo. Vashwood subtext is off the charts and their dynamic is incredibly fascinating and central. This is the most detailed and complex story of Trigun and has lots of themes, characters and plot points that don't exist in other versions. Has elements of sexism and sexual violence, but (imo) to show how shitty the world is, rather than to revel in the misogyny. The tone is tragic, with equal mix of hope and pain.

Bad: the female characters of Meryl and Milly get massively sidelined in comparison to their depictions elsewhere. It's a very long manga and has (imo) pacing issues that limit the impact of emotional moments. The art style is beautiful, but notoriously difficult to follow, especially in the many long fight scenes (particularly bad in volume 5). There's lots of disagreement about 'correct' translations and it can be hard to tell which character is doing/saying/thinking what at points which can make it confusing and frustrating to read at times.

Overall: 7/10, I would recommend but maybe not as your first bit of exposure to Trugun

2) 1998 anime Trigun

Good: the silliest of Triguns with some great voice acting. The friendships between Vash, Milly, Meryl and Wolfwood are very sweet and engaging (although it would have been nice to see more of the four of them together). It's a fun overview of the Trigun story and has a very entertaining mix of comedy and serious emotional moments. Lots of hijinks and lots of fights. Milly and Meryl are core characters and get time to shine (it is impossible not to love Milly). This is personal preference but the animation style is kinda goofy in the way it changes styles to exaggerate characters' feelings which I love. The first 12 ISH episodes are very Saturday morning cartoon vibes without being too inane and childish.

Bad: because it only had the first couple of volumes of the manga to adapt from, the mid-season tone shift and later fights feel rushed, a little confusing and ultimately lead to a less satisfying conclusion than in trimax. The misogyny is noticeable, especially in the first couple of episodes, though is limited to a couple of comments in some episodes and doesn't (I think) make it unwatchable. The antagonists are rushed through and it's hard to work out who the 'main' villain is. Tone change is quite abrupt. Wolfwood is a less developed character with a less intense (back)story, Livio/Razlo doesn't exist at all etc

Overall: 7/10, this is what I'd recommend you start with. It has pacing issues and uncomfortable sexist comments, but I think they're outweighed by the strengths of the main casts relationships and the pure entertainment value of it. Not the most satisfying ending, but they were constrained so :/

3) Badlands Rumble (film)

Good: animation is SO crisp. Wolfwood is at maximum chest exposure and actually his character is pretty interesting here. Milly and Meryl are back, but in limited roles. Some interesting world building and Vash and Wolfwood go thru their divorce arc TM which is dumb and funny and angsty.

Bad: Wolfwood is far too pale. The first half an hour is made almost unwatchable by the decision to make sexism and sexual harrassement a way to pad out the runtime. Vash is such a creep it just makes for uncomfortable watching.

4/10 don't watch if you're not already invested, and honestly do yourself a favour by watching the opening scene, then skipping to the 30 min ish mark and watch knowing that Vash has some very tough dried meat in his front coat pocket.

4) Trigun Stampede anime

Good: really cool 3D animation and music. Has Wolfwood's manga backstory and some manga characters like Livio and Crimsonnail, but with very different characterisations. I really liked the episode looking at the childhood of two orphans and how their love for each other was manipulated against them both. Much bigger focus on Knives than the original and more elaboration of his motivations and plans. Zazie is SO much better here than in the original anime. No uncomfortable sexism yay!

Bad: I... don't like tristamp very much. The characters are watered down from their manga versions and Knives is just kinda evil because he was en evil child, rather than the much more nuanced version in trimax. Milly doesn't exist (yet) and they added in a new character Roberto whose role in the story is (or at least was to me) obvious if you know the basics of the hero's journey structure. Everyone has been twinkified and Wolfwood doesn't even have his tits out smh. Vash just comes across as having less agency and his motivations feel weak. I really just dont like a lot of the character decision here BUT to be fair, that's because I'm comparing them to the manga. But also, a main plot point is someone taking over his brother's body so that his sisters can get pregnant and it definitely still feels weird in context. The focus on the two brothers makes other dynamics a little weaker, and has led to a lot of incest-y fandom things which is ehh.

5.5/10 there are some things it does very well and it's very popular for a reason but I personally think the characterisations are disappointing. It's trying to strike a weird balance between being its own, new thing and also nostalgia for original elements, leading to some questionable pacing and plot choices. It doesn't even have Midvalley the Hornfreak.

I would love to be able to talk about Trigun with you and be passionate about the elements of it I love, but also I don't want to recommend it without giving you a fair picture of the parts I'm more critical about. I genuinely love the world building and characters, which are expressed best in the less accessible form of the manga but are also found in the animes. What I'd recommend is watching the original anime first, but also you might need to give it the benefit of the doubt for the first couple episodes which is where the dodgy 90s sexism is most obvious. I'd be super interested in hearing your thoughts and reactions to it if you did watch it, and also please bear in mind that my complaints about tristamp are personal and there are many who love that version so don't take my negativity as fact.

#asks #sorry that got LONG #YOU SHOULD WATCH IT #I REALLY LOVE IT #its just not perfect #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun stampede

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clonerightsagenda · 10 months

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Author's notes for Sick aka I ramble about my complex Disability Feelings

When you're sick, especially given the dominance of the medical model of disability, it's easy to view your body as a separate adversary, and this scenario takes it to the extreme of completely removing yourself from your body. I've talked before on this blog about my complicated feelings on magic disability cures - I don't like them in fiction; I'd like one myself in real life - and this is me contemplating 'what if'?

I do not like being sick. It is painful, time-consuming, expensive, and frequently embarrassing. I wish it had not happened to me. But being disabled is now a major part of my identity and experience - it's probably the first label I would list when thinking about the different facets that impact my life. Being disabled has made me more aware of disability justice issues and changed the way I relate to and rely on other people. In some ways that sucks - it's progressively taken over what I eat, where I work, where I live (which I also take to the extreme in this story with ambiguously literal possession) - but in other ways, I think the disability community often has a much better worldview than mainstream America. I'm glad I've become more aware of some of those perspectives and issues. And because disability has shaped so much of my life for the past... six? years, for good and for ill, it's hard for me to conceive of what my life would be like without it. How would I think about myself? What would I do? This is my new normal, like it or not. I don't remember what it's like to make a fist painlessly.

An added wrinkle is that autoimmunity is my body Trying Its Best. I make a lot of jokes about my body trying to kill me because that's how it shakes out (please, little guys in my blood, stop eating my bones) but autoimmunity is a trauma response. My body got clobbered by so many outside poisons that it can't recognize what a real threat is anymore. It's trying to protect me and doing a terrible job. It's another place where you can look at your body as an external adversary versus a system that your mind is also a part of. But also no matter how you look at it, I am still sick.

There's also some stuff in the piece about the helplessness that comes from being sick which (surprise!) I also have mixed feelings about. Because it sucks not having control over your body! I want to be supervising that shit. But also... I don't know how common this is, but there is a weird kind of comfort in being tucked in bed with someone else taking care of me. I even find going into surgery oddly relaxing because for a while my life will be someone else's problem.

At the same time I also worry that I'm using disability as an excuse. Am I begging off attending something because I really am tired or worried about exposure/overwork or do I just not want to go?

Finally we have Aro Angst because that's always on my mind. And it's extra on my mind in the context of disability because what if I get to the point where I can't take care of myself anymore? I don't have a romantic partner to help me or to provide health insurance if I can't work. I live near my parents and have passed up job opportunities that would take me further away. Most specifically for this story, even I find myself sometimes falling into the trap of assuming the ultimate endstate of closeness/intimacy would be romantic/sexual bc of cultural conditioning. It's annoying! So the character (Dani, I named her Danielle in a reference to the Daniel/the cooler Daniel meme) is still seeking the community, care, and closeness she experienced as part of the disabled community, and the messier weirder intimacy of feeling connected to her own body, but she's struggling with interpreting that through cultural norms of amatonormativity. Sometimes 'I want to be inside you/I want you inside me' is, shockingly, not a sex thing. Hence, toxic nonhorny clone makeouts. I guess???

Side note: I've mentioned this wrt pieces I've written with aromanticism that follow a similar pattern of taking something I am at least not too consciously dramatic about and making the MC a pathetic wet cat about it. I guess they are serving the purpose of Everyman in a medieval morality play here. They are crash test dummies I am flinging at walls to count the cracks. Not great character writing but that's not what this is about rn.

#kat writes #chronic illness blogging

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genderkoolaid · 2 years

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hey it is super cool if u don't wanna answer this bc it's a lil explicit but. i am Struggling. i want to get phallo. very much so. but i can't imagine being satisfied with phallo unless i can ejaculate. and afaik that's not possible rn, and my bottom dysphoria is really bad, and i just. advice? i don't have any issues w current phallo results besides the ejaculation thing, and i'm seriously thinking abt just going tor it but i think having an orgasm with a penis and not being able to ejaculate will make *orgasming* dysphoria-inducing for me and. well. that's not ideal. esp after what T did to my sex drive.

I think it comes down to whether or not you feel that the benefits of getting phallo would outweigh the negatives. If that potential dysphoria from orgasming feels like it would be too much for the potential euphoria/relief to balance out, then it makes sense to not get it.

I have similar dysphoria and personally, I have found that working through internalized transandrophobia related to bottom surgery, and body positivity/neutrality in relation to penises in general, has helped me a lot in accepting the limitations of phallo and not fearing potential dysphoria (or potential non-ideal sensation) a lot. I don't want to tell you "just read some stuff and you will stop wanting a natal dick", but if you really want phallo and its just this stopping you, this could be useful to try.

First of all, keeping in mind that natal penises are extremely diverse in ability has been very helpful for me. There are natal penises that also cannot ejaculate; it in no way means that phallo penises are less than natal penises. It's just how some penises work. A lot of cis men deal with the same feelings that trans men getting phallo do. There's a lot of pressure put on people who want phallo for theirs to be perfect, otherwise its proof that phallo is bad and ugly and pointless and a mistake. So phallo penises looking "off" or not getting hard naturally or not ejaculating can feel even worse because of that internalized fear that phallo dicks will always be inferior and a mistake. But phallo doesn't need to be perfect; neither do natal dicks. Getting phallo should be about making yourself happy and fulfilled, not ticking the right boxes on How Penises Need To Work To Be Valid.

I accept that it's something I'll probably always want. But I also think about how happy it would make me, and how many other people with penises still live their lives and are happy and fulfilled while also having a penis that doesn't function perfectly. Its not some scary, ominous struggle, its just a thing a lot of people deal with, and a lot of people still find happiness with. If you can learn to accept that desire and that pain, there's a lot of people who still have a lot of good sex and are happy with their bodies despite not being able to ejaculate. I can imagine myself being one of them, and that idea feels better than my current reality. So I feel that, despite the limitations that are disappointing, its worth it for me. If some really cool advancements are made in my lifetime that I can get, that's awesome! And if not, I'll still be happy with what I'm able to get.

I don't know if this will help you, anon, but I wish you the best. I know it's genuinely hard deciding what's right for you, and it sucks that phalloplasty is still stigmatized and ignored. I hope that, whatever you end up doing with your body, you are happy.

#m.#ask box

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warrior-angel · 2 years

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NOT THE ONLY ONE.

Author: @warrior-angel

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst. Flashbacks, Child Abandonment. Female insert. Use of Y/N

Note: Part of me wondered what Eddie would have been like if he had been there from the start, with finding Eleven and all and that inspired me to write this. Eddie is such a relatable and loveable character and I think he really would just wish to take care of those he’s close with.

I wasn’t comfortable with posting the full series I had planned on this. Most of my stuff has been deleted from Wattpad due to a copyright claim issue. ( they stated I copied from a tv show/movie. Even when I tagged it as fan-fiction.) hopefully things work better around here.

➳ All mistakes in this fic are my own.

Summer of 1985.

Leaning against one of the trees in the middle of Hawkins forest she let out a deep sigh, trying to get rid of the pain and the tension in her body, without use.

StarCourt mall had burned to the ground, and so was the hiding spot she’d found near it. She had relied on what was thrown into the dumpers behind the mall for months, clothes, food, anything that could be useful and would fit in her bag. Waiting till midnight to go through the mall's dumpsters had been a lot easier than shoplifting or pickpocketing.

She’d tried her best to stay away from police and society as much as possible, staying in empty cabins or run down buildings. It was far from comfortable but it wasn't as bad as sleeping in the dangers of the outdoors, the dangers of Hawkins in general.

Hawkins was a town known for its bizarre happenings, People dying or disappearing, some even returning from death. People knew things were going on but nobody dared to say a word or ask any questions about it.

The less people knew the better, it was exactly why she herself had been running and hiding for so long. When you ask the wrong person the right questions things tend to happen and most times you don't walk away from it without consequesions, she learned that the hard way. She knew the right person, the right questions and even the answers and that is precisely why she ran away.

Cleverness, to think of putting a piece of paper between the door to keep it from locking completely, patiences for the time to pass until it had been midnight and knowledge of the right path towards the exit to get herself out and away from the place she grew up in.

She may have been young but she was far from stuppid, she knew when to speak and when to stay silent that way you heard things others did not although sometimes she wished she'd never listened to those around her at all.

She was sore and covered in cuts and bruises, every movement making her his in pain. The woods of Hawkins might have had its charm if it hadn't been this brutal against her, the rocks and tree she had to climb came with a new scrap or cut on a daily basis, something that she accepted over time and risked day in and day out for a place to sleep.

Her eyes shot up at the sound of crumbling leaves and snapping twigs. She was on high alert, movement slow as she tried to process which way to run. her feet carried her backwards in a slow pace, heartbeat running wild as her knuckles turned white from how tight she was grabbing onto her backpack straps.

"Hey!" she flinched at the sudden voice, eyes going wide as she turned around. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” there he stood, a boy not older than herself messy hair, denim and leather covering his arm and a strange demonic picture staring right back at her. “Are you okay?” Her eyes met those of the boy who scared her, giving him a single nod. She messed up, she messed up badly.

He was looking at the marks on her arms and her face, staring particularly long at the noticeable scar under her left eye “Jezus- what happened,” His face dropped “did someone hurt you?”

“I’m fine” She said, voice hushed. She was nervous, scared, would this guy follow her if she ran? Would he tell people he saw her? “Don't mean to pry and all but you look far from fine.” he stated. “Do you need a doctor or something, I could take you to the police if you want.”

“No!” Her blood ran cold at the sound of police. “No police.” He hummed in acknowledgement, his eyes scanning her as he tried to read her body language.

“Did you run away or something like that?” He guessed. She didn't know why but her head dipped in a nod just slightly, something that didn't go unnoticed to him “I’m taking that as a yeah?”

“Yes.” He just nodded his head. She didn't know why she even answered him, two years of silence and running thrown away all because a friendly face looked worried about her.

“So,” he began, “uhm how long have you been running for?”

“Two years.” she was cursing herself out internally scolding herself to stop talking. He looked at her shocked. giving himself a second to process what she just said. “That’s, that’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” She said softly. “You’re terrified of me aren’t you?” taking a step backwards, he caught up to the reason she was so cautious towards him. “Usually nobody comes out here, so you're safe.”

“You're here.” she retorted, making him grin. “It's a shortcut from my buddy's place back to my van,” he pointed towards where he came from.

“Lovers Lake.” she mumbled. “yeah, he was sent to jail, again.”

“He’s bad?” she said, looking at him scared. “oh no, Rick's cool, totally cool just uhm, just got caught selling. Was supposed to buy from him to get my supply up again but that’s a big no.”

“You do drugs?”

“It makes sense I didn't really want to take you to the cops now does it?” She smiled at that, her shoulders slumped a little as she realized he wasn't going to call the police on her.

He offered her a smile “I’m Eddie, by the way.” he said casually, carefully awaiting her reaction. “You can tell me to piss off, you know.” he reassured making her shake her head. “Y/n.”

Eddie had helped her find a safe space to stay in, Cracking open the lock on his friend's boathouse to give her a temporary roof over her head. The space was cluttered, messy but it was a fine spot to hide from people and stay safe from police. Rick was in jail anyway, it wasn’t like he would know. There was a big part of her that thought Eddie only helped her find a safe spot out of guilt, the idea of leaving somebody in the middle of nowhere being something that didn't sit right with him, but to her surprise he came back the next day. Eddie had sofly knocked on the door before coming in, standing in the doorway with bags of snacks, water and even one of his own jackets to give her some form of warmth.

Their conversations were mostly one-sided, Eddie would talk about his band and try to explain the meaning behind his Hellfire club, his shirt finally making sense to her the more he talked about it. Eddie would come around in the afternoon, always having some form of food with him, sometimes bread or something microwaved he had packet up and snuck out to the boathouse, he enjoyed watching her smile as she ate the food, the idea of her having been running and trying to survive on her own for two years not being something he liked.

As the days passed she grew more and more comfortable around him, so much so that she started to open up. Her adoptive father used to be a nice man, he always seemed to want the best for her, for her siblings. He always spoke of family, of trust but as she grew older she realized things were not as simple as he told them they were. Her anger spun out of control easily, the older she grew the worse it got and the only one that seemed to be able to calm her down was who she was raised to believe was her older brother, and father did not like that.

Her brother would hush her, hold her and tell her it would all be alright, tell her it was safe and that he would take care of her, that he would find a way to get them out of the house and live a happy life without their father’s rules. He had promised, promised he wouldnt leave her and he still did, he had left her with their father. She spent the next few years on her own, angry at her brother for leaving her behind, angry at her father for abandoning her. She had been nothing more than another child that didn't meet her fathers perfection standards, just like her so-called brother.

She had cried after telling Eddie, Shielding herself away from his view not wanting to show the tears, he wasn't having it. Eddie had sat down beside her and wrapped her up nice and warm in a hug while he made a few jokes to get her to smile again only for it all to come crashing down the next day.

“Ricks coming home tomorrow.” Two weeks, that's all she had gotten in the boathouse, two weeks of jokes and laughter with Eddie and now it was gone, she needed to go back to the woods, it was time to run again. She pushed away her tears, and got onto her feet forcing herself to act emotionless. Taking the wrapped candy bars and sandwich Eddie had given her for that day she stuffed it in her backpack, trying to get everything ready to head out before midnight.

“My uncle works night shifts at the factory” she turned towards Eddie, his eyes going anywhere but to her as he continued to speak, “you could take the bed I’ll sleep on the couch or something, I don't know.''

“I can't,” She mumbled. The idea of staying close to Eddie was a dream come true, she really did care for the boy but it was not worth the risks. Eddie's eyes meet with hers, the look of rejection not suiting him well.

“Police will notice, and what would you tell your uncle.” He signed in relief, it wasn't that she didn't want to, it was fear that kept her from doing so.

“It's a big risk and I don't want you to get in trouble because of me.” Part of her knew that if her father wanted to find her he already would have

but the fear of knowing what he’d do if he did find her was holding her back.

“I'm a big boy that can take care of himself.” He said with a grin.

“Why do you care so much?” Eddie seemed taken back by that question but he answered it nonetheless. “I don't feel like living up to the Munson name,” he stated. “My dad wasn't the best, Wayne got me out of that situation.” She nodded, this was his way of saying he understood her.

“You’ve only known me for two weeks Eddie and there’s a lot I haven't told you yet, I could be dangerous to you.” If she was willing to consider this things had to be out in the open, especially the danger she was putting him in.

“You do know I’m the town freak right?” he tells her like that was supposed to mean something. “You’re not a freak Eddie.” She hated it when he called himself that.

“And you're not dangerous.”

"You don't have to do this," Eddie insisted on taking the pressure away from packing, grabbing her stuff before she could. He’d left the candy wrapper for what they were mumbling a ‘I'll tell Rick I came here’ before making her pull her hoodie over her head and taking her towards his van just on the other side of the road.

Her hands in her lap, bag by her feet and eyes stuck on the road as she anxiously whisted the loose threat of her shirt around her fingers. Eddie kept a close eye on her, trying to find any sign of her getting second doubts but to his surprise beside a usually sense of fear there wasn't any, she was humming along to one of the songs that sounded through the van, the rhythm of the song itself being far off but it seemed to calm her.

Eddie took a sharp turn into forest hill trailer park, the car shaking from all the potholes and gravel that created a path down the park, Eddie’s speed not slowing until they actually got closer to their end destination, her stomach twisting slightly as he drove up to one of the many trailers in the back and brought the van to a rocking halt.

Eddie looked over at her offering her a sweet smile before getting out of his van, rounding the vehicle until he was at her side to open the door like a true gentleman. “Ready to see my castle?” he said, his usual grin plastered across his face. Her eyes scanned the surrounding trailers, a deep sigh coming from within her as she carefully lifted herself out of the van and swung her bag over her shoulders.

She stayed close by Eddie’s side, watching as twisted his key in the lock and opened the door to lead her into his home.

Eddie was immediately running around cleaning up a bit, reaching for empty wrappers and empty mugs, giving her the room to wander the space on her own. The most colorful mugs and baseball caps line the walls, a two seat and an old worn down chair standing at one end of the room as a tv and a folded bed stood on the opposite side. It was messy, but it was a real home.

Eddie watched her carefully move around, a grin coming to his face as he watched her move down the hallway and towards his own bedroom not missing the smile that came to her as he walked into it.

Again everything was messy, clothes were thrown on top of the dressers, posters lining the walls and guitar picks scattered around everywhere. She let her bag fall from her shoulders, placing it on his bed without a thought before taking a closer look at the details, the room’s entire aesthetic screaming Eddie.

She walked over to the guitar hanging above the dresser, most of the red and black beauty covering the mirror it was hung before. she was carefully reaching out to strum her fingers of the strings being met with a little tune. “Beautiful.” Jumping at the voice she turned to see Eddie was watching her from the doorway. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.” she looked at him silently, a giggle bubbling up in her at the familiar set of words. “So uhm, what do you usually do at night?”

“I used the water from the lake to clean up a little, then I ate whatever you brought me.”

"Bathrooms all yours," he said pointing behind him. Looking from the bathroom back to her he held up his hand in a silent ‘stay there’ before walking around her and pulling out a few pieces of clothes from different drawers. A pair of socks, a t-shirt and some sweatpants that were far too big were handed to her in a kind gesture.

“Hellfire,” she looked from the shirt towards Eddie knowing how much his club meant to him. He shrugged, giving her one of his famous grins before leading her to the bathroom.

“There's soap and shampoo on the shelf, towels are behind the door.” Eddie really was doing everything he could to make her feel safe. “I’ll see if I can whip up something edible.” he gave her another soft smile before turning away and closing the door behind himself.

Eddie was a good guy he had never done anything to make her doubt him so there was no need to start now. Eddie promised her safety, was it a risk to put two years of running and hiding on the line for the words of a man she’d only known for all but two weeks, yeah, definitely but she trusted him with it all nonetheless.

Reaching over she turned the shower on, water falling from the showerhead and hitting the ground. The tension in her body fell away from the hot water, body melting into the warmth as it eased the aches. Dirt and dried blood washing away to more she scrubbed herself down,

her hair turning back to its light Hazel color the more she rinsed it out, watching the dirty water go down the drain. The cleaner the cuts got the better she could see how deep and how bad it looked, starting to understand the shock Eddie had on his face when they met.

She had wrapped the towel around herself, her hand whiping the steam from the mirror to get a better view of herself. Dark circles under her eyes, the cuts and bruises on her arms being much more clear now that the dirt was washed away, all the things that she never really stopped and thought about now all came crashing down on her.

Her hair was longer than she could remember. The scar underneath her eye a reminder of her outburst from when she was locked in her bedroom, the ceramic of her plate having cut her after it smashed into pieces.

Growing up hadn’t always been the best, but things weren’t always bad either, lifting her wrist to her lips, a soft peck was placed over the mark there like she had done everynight in a reminder that where she came from hadn't always been bad.

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. Taking a deep breath she opened the bathroom door, Eddie standing there in the doorway of his own room, eyes scanning her in his clothes. She held the pile of her own clothes in her hand, Eddie reaching out to take it from her and turning around in his room, dropping it carefully down beside her bag before making his way towards the living room where he proudly presented two bowls filled to the brim standing on the counter. “You can cook?”

“Yeah, with Wayne working I had too. all that microwavable shit gets expensive.” he said, dropping himself in one of the seats and patting the one beside him in an invitation.

“Oh my god.” Eddie couldn't help but laugh at her speaking with her mouth full. The boxed mac and cheese he had made was gone within minutes, Eddie watching her as she ate spoon after spoon full of the cheesy pasta, part of him hating the idea that some boxed food was like a luxury to her.

Things seemed easy, Eddie made small talk about his ideas of his new campaign, some jokes being thrown across as he watched her smile.

As he put the empty bowls in the sink he watched her move around the living space, her eyes lingering on the folded bed that stood in the corner.

“That's where my uncle sleeps.” Eddie stated, turning off the water and leaning back against the counter. “Is he gonna be mad that you brought me here?” she asked, the sensation of fear returning. “He’s not that difficult, just be honest with him.” Eddie reassured.

There was a lot of stuff she hadn't told Eddie, the fear of rejection because of where she came from only edging on the beliefs she had been taught as a child. “my dad used to say nobody would accept us for who we truly are.” She revealed, trying her way of being honest.

“If he didn't accept you then why did he adopt you?” Eddie stated, his words having been ment as a reasurement. “My real dad used to say that,” she mumbled seeing the confusion on Eddie’s face. “There's a reason my older brother cared so much for me, the same reason father didn’t like our close bond.”

“He wasn’t your brother was he?” a tear at the memories of the truth slipped away from her as she shook her head. “He was my dad.” She choked on the words, for the first time in years daring to call him what he truly was to her.

Eddie closed the distance and wrapped her up in a hug within seconds, her head gently falling onto his shoulders as she let the warm feeling of comfort he gave her settle in. She was letting Eddie in, completely.

#Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson Fic #Stranger Things 4 #Joseph Quinn #warrior-angel #Eddie Munson x reader #reader insert #female insert #Eddie Munson x she #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things

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c0pernicus · 3 months

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I feel like I never really see people talk about just how bad the long term effects of prolonged abuse, or C-PTSD can really be in people, especially young people, and I wish it was talked about more.

I pretty much never talk about my own experiences for safety reasons, because I would always receive a whole mess if I did choose to try and tell others what I went through, and maybe that's what has made my experience with C-PTSD so bad, but its genuinely so debilitating.

The burn out, the exhaustion, the body aches and horrible sleep schedules and inability to maintain a job because my emotions and brain had really never recovered even years- half a decade- after everything stopped. The digestive issues, the memory problems, the entire lack of a sense of identity and self. The lack of want to put effort into my identity and self.

I feel like I'm chronically searching for someone that's supposed to be me. Constantly, I'm stuck now trying to validate a sense of self I no longer possess. Old passions, old hobbies, old things I liked and enjoyed- It feels like I've been stripped down to bone and nothing sticks anymore. If I have an interest it's very fleeting and I usually will drop it once I find I start to enjoy it, as if its been so heavily ingrained in my brain that peace and happiness and to just enjoy things isn't something I'm allowed. I've become incapable of thinking anything even neutral about myself at this point. I don't believe nearly anything anyone else says to me, and I feel very passive towards others in general if I'm not terrified of them instead. I lack friends and connections, and I constantly hide away from others.

I'm constantly frozen. I can't function on even a basic level if someone else is present in my home; I have to be doing what they're doing, or engaged in some way with what they're doing (Watching, observing, next to them at the very least and quietly doing something unobtrusive) or I can't do anything at all. If I am left alone I'm riddled with anxiety and my mood plummets, my intrusive thoughts are constant and like a horrible movie montage I can't turn off. Trying to lay down and sleep is no better, for years I've been stuck having to just occupy my brain until I pass out.

It's a constant ghost I just can't seem to exorcise from myself. No amount of trying to forgive or forget or let go or move on or accept has made a pebbles difference in the mountain I'm stuck under. I forget everything and anything except for what caused all of this; my wife and friend constantly cut me off to tell me that they've already heard what I'm telling from before from my own mouth, and they I know there are times where they let me continue like it's the first time I've ever told them the fact or the story and I'm simply none-the-wiser. I can't remember things I've done, things I need to do, events or recent days even. I feel stupid and airheaded on the best days, and I know it shows to others because they've told me before.

Work is hard because of the anxiety, the agoraphobia, the memory problems, the health problems. I'm sick constantly; I can't eat or retain food, I have the flu, I've caught Covid for the 8th time despite trying to be good about cleanliness when I leave the house and return. I can't eat a lot of food without being in pain, with it going right through me or sitting like a rock in my stomach for several days. My joints ache more often, my muscles are sore, my traps are solid to a concerning degree from the daily stress of just living with it all. I can't remember the last time my eyes weren't sunken in and purple-blue.

Therapists have only wanted to slap me with a diagnosis and an array of medications- none of which have worked. I've been told it's depression, it's anxiety, it's PTSD, it's bi-polar, it's BPD, it's psychotic depression, it's schizoaffective, it's DID. The DID one threw me for a loop, I'm not going to lie, but the rest were believable enough. I don't look at my medical charts anymore, so I don't know what I have or haven't been branded with by now. The meds and talk therapy never help, I never feel release, I don't believe words anymore- especially from strangers. The meds make the brain fog worse, or I feel numb, or people don't like the person I've become, or my self harming gets much worse, or I just want to kill myself enough to really try to.

Stress tips me over the edge so easily. The hallucinations suck and I resent them. They're a one way ticket to being unemployed and unfunctional for potentially months at a time, and it's humiliating after the fact as well. The last time I had a bad episode I believed there was a man living in my closet, and I couldn't go inside of it. I would hear him moving around inside, he'd yell and get so angry if you opened the door. I've thankfully forgotten the name I gave him; it was something stupid for sure.

I've become a miserable ghost, and I don't see any light at the end of the long tunnel. There is no way back to my body. I'm just lost and wandering and witnessing but never participating. It hurts the most to think of how I was before too many things piled up; the passion and the drive and the creativity. Always making something, always doing something, there was always some project or plan or thing I was doing that I felt pride for. I didn't care if I was weird to others, because I was confident in myself.

I just lay down now, when I can. I do my dishes and my laundry, I try to shower when it doesn't make me nauseous to. I take care of my cats and I work jobs infrequently. I sit with my parents disappointment in who I've become like it's an old friend, and we share coffee and reveries.

I exist, begrudgingly. That is the only thing I try to take pride in now.

#yodeling alpha #idk why i wrote this but maybe its something I can put down for a little while at least

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agentsquirrelsgotrobots · 8 months

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Chapter two of DJD x Earthspark

It happened so suddenly.

One minute, Twitch and Hashtag were bringing Thrash back to the barn.

The next, Hashtag was in pieces, her body feeling like it was torn apart.

Twitch barely could spit her sister's energon out of her mouth before big hands, bigger than Megatron's, grabbed at her, pulling her into the arms of-

No.

Not him.

Anyone but him.

"Twitch, sweetspark. I have come to liberate you from being smothered by Autobot ideals. Come along, you have a date with a painting booth."

Out of the corner of her eye, Twitch could see Thrash being dragged into the woods, a hook through his shoulder, the mech responsible for the stabbing agony in her shoulder having a huge grinder in his chest.

She then screamed as an unspeakable agony crept up her body, starting at her feet and working its way up.

She could feel herself grow faint, pain consuming her as she felt herself struggle to vent, struggle to move and fight against-

Twitch vomited, the feeling of her organs all being squeezed at the same time being too much to bear. She felt something wipe at her mouth, a chiding Voice in her ear, telling her off for making the person holding her messy.

She felt herself being handed to another person that smelled like an electrical fire, and gasped in shock as she smelled blood, human blood, on their hands.

She screamed when she felt a chunk of Mo's scalp on her rotors, her long coils tangling in the gaps of her plating.

She squeaked again as she felt someone smack the back of her head hard.

"Stop it."

Twitch whined, tears filling her eyes as she felt Mo's blood seep in between her plating.

She heard a soft pop, her organs suffering from a phantom squeeze yet again, and an undeniable agony gripped her spark, her body lighting with pain. This time, she knew in her spark who met death with a terrible pain in her spark.

"Robby…" She sobbed. "ROBBY! ROB-"

The bot that held her forced a blood covered pill down her throat, ignoring her attempts to bite his hand and spit it out. "Enough, Twitch. Boss bot wants you calm and QUIET while he takes care of the traitors. Now I have to use the sleepy pill. Tarn won't like that."

Twitch felt the darkness pull her down as she felt another bloom of pain.

Dad.

They killed dad.

She wished they would just kill her too.

_______

Tarantulas was just glad he wasn't holding a beaker.

By the speed he dropped his pen and datapad when Nightshade started to seize, it would have shattered. He caught them and moved them away from the blacktop, practically throwing any stools in his way. In the absence of anything soft, he took a risk and held Nightshade's head off the floor, keeping them from cracking their head off the concrete. After a harrowing 40 seconds, Nightshade's voice box glitched and sputtered before he grabbed his chest in pain.

"Tar-Tarantulas? I- I don't feel great."

"I wouldn't think so, Nightshade. Have you had seizures before? Maybe even gaps in your memory or painful headaches? Dizziness, fuzzy or spotty vision, fainting spells? Any bad hits to the head?"

"No, none of that. I have had no issues with flying. Tarantulas, why are you sitting me on your bed?"

"Just a precaution. Seizures can lead to other problems, and you can't fly home after one. Give me your hand, I have to take some data for Ratchet. It's not good, but I am pretty sure Ratchet can help you monitor them."

Nightshade winced as Tarantulas pricked one finger and put a monitor on the other.

He picked up the datapad included with the medic's kit he definitely didn't take off a corpse and watched in shock as Nightshade's spark beat went wild.

"Nightshade, I am going to ask you to lie back slowly and let me move you around a bit. It might not be comfortable with your wings, but I don't like the readings I am seeing and can't get a hold of Ratchet." Tarantulas also couldn't get a hold of Optimus, Dot, Bumblebee, or Megatron, but he wasn't going to tell that to a youngling with early symptoms of spark tension. Their energon levels were already at high pressure, and he hoped that having them lay down slowly could help.

He guided Nightshade's head back, keeping their spine straight, their knees slightly bent, and their head, chest, and feet elevated. Nightshade looked as if they were resisting the urge to squirm, laying on their back with their still new wings were probably uncomfortable.

"You are doing good, Nightshade. Your vitals are looking better already. I am going to go outside, I want you to not move except to comm me if your vitals change."

Tarantulas wasn't even outside calling the immigration office for a city-state he had been planning to use as a plan B for five minutes before he had to rush inside to use a defibrillator on a convulsing Nightshade.

He didn't realize that the representative was still on the line until the poor being was replaced by a higher up, telling him that extraction had been authorized and a team would be there as soon as they could.

_______

Twitch faded in and out of consciousness, just to get pulled into coherency by a cruel voice, and then a screaming one.

"Nickel … why isn't she waking up?"

"She was part of a massive gestalt, you stupid sons of a glitch! Get her to my medbay now, she's going on spark support, maybe even a pacer."

Twitch could feel her legs dangling as she was rushed somewhere, letting out a hiss of pain as she was dropped onto a freezing metal slab.

"How many of the knockout drugs did you give her?" Twitch finally identified the speaker as the white minicon standing above her on a stool.

"One."

"Good, I don't know why I gave you more than that. Just one pill is the maximum dose. Ugh, she's covered in - is that hair? Gross. Once I get this spark pacer installed, she's getting a bath."

Tarn spoke up, "Good, I would like -"

"This awful Rescue Bot red gone? Of course. I will revel in taking a scouring pad to that horrendous paint." Twitch felt someone pinch and tug on her rotors. "Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the yellow. The biolights in her rotors are too finicky."

Twitch whined as she felt a needle slide into her wrist and under her chest plate.

She felt a numb cold spread through her body before Nickel pulled her chest plate over her head, exposing her spark casing. Twitch shivered as even colder restraints bit into her hands, feet, and rotors, a big clawed hand looping rope through her propellers.

Then Nickel started to operate.

Though she couldn't feel the pain, Twitch could feel Nickel cut through the numb protoform with her laser scalpel, pulling her plating apart until she got to her spark. Nickel started to count loudly as she quickly installed a box the size of Twitch's eye into her spark casing and then pulled everything back together, giving her another injection and releasing Twitch's restraints before barking at Tesarus to take her to the tub.

Twitch felt herself being lifted off the table and dropped lightly into a shallow tub, the antiseptic barely covering the bottom of the tub. Nickel filled a bucket with even more antiseptic and grabbed some bristle brushes, grouching loudly while kicking the rest of the DJD out.

Twitch moaned as the stiff, abrasive brush removed all the tiny bits of Mo's remains from the gaps in her plating, including the bits of scalp in her rotors. The antiseptic stung, the bristles chipping off her paint and scratching up the metal underneath, causing tiny cuts to open and be drowned in the solution. She squeaked as she was roughly rolled on her side, the scouring brush replaced with a soft bristled one on her rotors and propeller blades.

Finally, Nickel left her alone long enough to wheel over a wheelchair, Twitch scrambling to sit up and transfer herself before Nickel could scream at her again.

Nickel checked the seal on the waterproof bandage over her new welds before wheeling her over to a hospital bed, lowering it, and forcing her to stand up on shaking legs and lay down.

Nickel then threw a blanket over Twitch before turning off the light and warning her not to move.

Twitch sobbed in the darkness, thankful that Nickel at least would give her this.

Not that she thought the minicon medic would be one for being gentle.

She drifted off to sleep, dreading whatever agony could come in the morning.

#Don't you love the sounds of squished children and screaming sparklings in the morning?#maccadam #transformers: earthspark #transformers djd #mtmte #twitch worship

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