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fabled-fiction · 11 months

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Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (Hobie Brown x Spider!Reader)

Summary: When Hobie hasn’t seen you in a while, he starts to come to the realization that he might be missing you for the wrong reasons. So when you come back, all those feelings reasons come bubbling up to the surface.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS

A/N: This kinda took a mind of its own, but I LOVED writing every second of it. Hope you enjoy it!! ☺️

Request by @its-me-ig-101: I was wondering if I could request for you to write a fluff Hobie Brown x GN reader, where the reader visits Hobie in his universe, or reverse? (Kind of like what Gwen does)

It had been 127 days since he last saw you,

14 since you last spoke.

It wasn’t like he was counting or anything. Nah…no he was completely able to be his own person. I mean, he had a whole Earth to protect as Spiderman.

But if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think four months apart would take such a toll on him.

You both were just always together. It didn’t cross his mind that there could be more than two to three days of you being away…from him especially. Gwen always joked about how quickly you both became so close so quickly. How Hobie was usually a steel trap and you were the key.

And he couldn’t even visit you! You were away on Spider business! Miguel had you consistently going after anomalies. It didn’t help that you had an insanely good success rate. Hell! Hobie couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t catch one of the anomalies!

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon! This is the ultimate test before the big question! Will their relationship prevail over this unexpected test?!”

Pavitr placed his hand on his chest, spinning around before collapsing onto Hobie's bed, where he was currently lounging. His fingers fiddled with his watch, flicking through all the channels. Maybe if he clicked on the right one, he would end up on the Earth where you were. Miguel had stopped telling him what Earth you were visiting, knowing he would just tag along. But Hobie could come up with something on the fly, he didn’t give a damn at this point if Miguel was pissed at him for interrupting your mission.

He would like to see him try and keep you from him any longer at this point.

“Hello, Earth to Hobie. Hey!”

Catching the plush that Gwen had thrown at him, he huffed and sat up. Pav smiled when he caught a glimpse at Hobie’s watch, and the roulette wheel of universes were still going.

“ Dude, they’re fine! (Y/N) is like…an invincible spider.”

“You know why he’s being more quiet than usual! He’s realizing he’s in looove. Our Hobie is head over he-” A well shot pillow from Hobie landed Pavitr on the floor.

“Am I not allowed to miss a friend? I remember ‘ow upset you were whenever you’d talk ‘bout Miles.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. He smirked when he saw how red Gwen’s face got.

“Ooooh we’re starting to enter the grumpy Hobie stage!” Pav shot up into a sitting position, this time dodging the second pillow that he had thrown.

Scoffing, he waved his hand at them as he pulled his phone out of his pant pocket. Unlocking it, he scrolled through his photo album and sighed.

They always teased him like this when he was down in the dumps. It had just been more recent as of late, seeing as you were rising in the ranks. Meaning you were gone more and more.

That also meant your friendship was tested more and more. He had noticed the change, he wasn’t completely blind to his emotions. He had noticed that as of late whenever you were gone he got a bit more snippy, and a bit more cynical-well more cynical than usual. Some had even told him that his color seemed more drained the longer and longer you were away.

This time had just been the longest. But it was also the most eye opening.

It's odd how you don’t notice how consistent someone is in your life until they’re gone.

He was mindlessly scrolling with a thousand yard stare off into the distance, when his phone suddenly anchored him back to reality.

Specifically your text tone.

Flicking to his messages, he felt his heart rate pick up.

(Y/N): heey! im finally back!! i missed you (cry emoji) (heart emoji)

Before his head could reminisce on the heart emoji and brew up any meaning behind it, he heard Pav gasp. Quickly looking up from his phone, he saw Pav squeal in excitement and Gwen chuckle as she shook her head.

“Look at him G! Do you see how much brighter he is? Ugh! Our boy has it bad.”

Sliding off his bed, he grabbed his bag and mask. Both Gwen and Pavitr could see that there was some pep in his step as he slung the bag over his shoulder. Fastening his web shooters on, he slid his mask into his pocket before entering your Earth into his watch.

“Oh oh! Where you heading Hobie? Thought we were having some serious bro time!”

Flicking them off, Hobie felt the portal open below him. Glancing through, he could see the flickering lights of your Earth.

“Piss off.”

Jumping through the portal, Hobie braced himself as he felt a quick rush before landing on your bed. The flickering and crackling of the portal remained only for a second before it snapped shut, dropping everything in the room along with its departure.

You stood in the opposite corner of the room, barely even unpacked. Your bag sat at the foot of your desk, unzipped with some of your clothes spilling out. You must’ve just texted him, because you were still in your spider suit…with one of his jumpers on.

Turning around, a smile spread across your face in an instant. Whatever you were doing was soon abandoned as you ran towards him. He was quick to stand, enveloping you in his frame. Feeling your aura mix with his, as he buried his nose into your hair felt nice. It awoke whatever nerves that had gone into hibernation after your departure, activating his senses once more.

Because he became highly aware of how right when you entered his arm, the hairs on yours stood under your suit. Your heart rate calmed but also picked up. Hell, he could even feel the blood rush to your cheeks as you buried your head into his chest.

“You really did miss me aye?” He teased, pulling you back by your shoulders to get a good look at his face.

“Mmm, only like…thiiiiiiis much.” Holding up two fingers, he watched as you held them close together and very very slowly pulled them apart.

“Oh wow, and here I was in absolute agony.” He hummed, sitting on the edge of your windowsill.

“Oh really?” You laugh, leaning over him. He looked up at you, nodding as he placed his hands in his pocket.

“Absolutely, almost died.”

Watching you laugh was something he knew he needed. It wasn’t too hard, at least for him. Your back and forth quips and teases were something that usually ended in you laughing or him chuckling. Inside jokes and knowing stares were usually exchanged to test the waters whenever others were around. It happened so often people usually felt excluded whenever you were both in each other's presence.

It was something he didn’t know he could miss.

“Wanna go for a swing?”

Watching the way your eyes lit up, he knew he had his answer.

Slipping his mask on, he was quick to open your window. He knew you were right behind him as he swung into action.

This was a dance you both did whenever you visited his world, swinging between buildings and each other. Finding ways to play off the others webbing and moves.

He loved watching you swing and flip. Hearing you laugh as you gave him a heart attack with how close you’d like to fall before yanking yourself back up into the air.

He felt a rush of similar emotions in the two weeks of you going dark. Whenever it was just him alone in his room, his mind would wander. He knew that if anything had happened he would have been the first told, both a blessing and a curse. But it still didn’t stop him from…worrying.

When did his worry for you become such a crutch?

Reaching to your normal hang out, what was atop your Statue of Liberty (which was still bronze here on your earth), both of you sat atop her torch. With shoulders touching, he watched as you leaned back and looked at your city.

“So, how many anomalies did you catch on this little spree of yours?”

With a big sigh you ripped your mask off and stuffed it into your-no, his jacket pocket. Bringing a knee to your chest you placed your cheek on it as you looked at him.

“Twelve. Probably the most in a row.”

Tisking, he leaned back on his hands now as he also took his mask off.

“Wow, remember which ones?”

“Most of them were Vultures. They were the only ones that could reach the portals that opened in their respective worlds. I might as Miguel if I can take a break though.”

That piqued his interest. But he didn’t show a reaction, in fact he just hummed and watched as you put your forehead to rest on your knees.

“I appreciate how much Miguel…trusts me to keep the multiverse intact, I really do. I went through hell with his stupid tests in order to get into the Spider Society and its…its lead me to meet some of my favorite people but recently I've been more Spider than Person…”

Hobie sat up now, putting his elbows on his knees and smirking. He knew what you needed to hear in this moment. He knew you like the back of his hand, in the year that you two have gotten to know each other it is safe to say he almost knows you better than he knows himself. The same could probably be said about you knowing him.

“Favorite people aye? Where do I fall on that list?”

Watching you lift your head to give him a quick glance, a small smile graced your lips before you lifted your head fully to clear your throat.

“Atleast top…let's say ten? There's a lot of competition BB.” You chuckle

“Oh yea? That jumper you’re wearing says otherwise.”

Your eyes grew almost as wide as the lenses on your mask as you looked down. Your hands gripped the edge of the jacket for a moment before shoving into the pockets.

“Oh I uh…yea I dunno what to say…”

The gears were turning in your head, he could tell. Something was brewing.

“..y’know I didn’t even realize I had packed this until I was subconsciously putting it on the first night. I'm being dead serious when I tell you I only ever took it off whenever I was about to go into battle…I didn’t wanna ruin it.”

He smiled to himself listening to your words. Something similar to what was brewing in your head was brewing in his chest.

These past few months, more specifically the past two weeks where you couldn’t contact him, there was a confession building. Words that were just waiting in the dark until he was at his most vulnerable to come into the light were bubbling up in his throat. The only thing keeping them from spilling right at this very moment was the seal of his lips.

It was nice, having you back. But all these realizations that he was having just in these last few days, especially now in these moments he was sharing with you, told him all he needed to know.

Especially with those words that you had just said to him, he knew his realization was not far from out of the blue.

“ Y’know those two weeks were you went dark were ‘ell. Pav and Gwendy were up my arse the entire time. It irked me how well they read me those two weeks..”

Watching you grow still and turn towards him, and sighed before turning towards you as well.

“I'm sorry about that Hobbie…my communicator died and Miguel told me I wasn’t allowed a new one until I finished my assignment. Which made everything so much harder to do since I had to wait for texts from Lyla and code instead of her just being able to talk me through it.”

“I knew it ‘ad to be somethin outta your control…and I also had a keepsake that ‘elped me keep my cool.”

Pulling back his cuffs, an array of bracelets both woven and made were on both of his wrists. They were all yours, but ones you hadn’t seen in a while and ones you were sure you had left on your desk before you had left.

What he couldn’t show you was the shirt he had of yours that was also on his pillow. He had it for the same reason he was sure you had his jacket for the entire trip…

Though it was starting to lose your scent.

There was a comfortable silence, at least he hoped there was. He could barely tell based off the thumping of his heart…

When he finally made eye contact with you, he saw a dopey smile on your face. It made him smile too. No matter how long you two were apart, no matter how raw the two of you got it never changed anything.

Well, he hoped nothing would change after what he was about to do.

Hobie wasn’t scared of a lot, practically nothing. But you scared the ever loving shit out of him. Both with all the stunts that you pulled and just the way you made him feel. He used to be this hardass corruptor but now? He wasn’t sure what he was without you.

“Hey Hobie..”

“Yea?”

“You should totally kiss me right now.”

“Yup.”

His hand fit perfectly on the crook of your neck, and so did his lips with yours.

Whatever you were feeling spilled into him, and he with you. A full year's worth of pent up emotion exploded into the kiss as he seemingly took your breath away. In recent months he could only imagine how your lips would feel against his, but it was nothing compared to what he was experiencing right now. Yours and his molded together in a flurry of silken passion, fitting together perfectly just like he knew they would.

Your hands found their place resting on his cheeks, just as his found theirs. With one resting on your neck and the other finding its way onto your side to pull you close. So close that he could feel the drum of your heart match his when your chests collided.

He wanted to curse whatever being made it so that the human body needed oxygen. When you pulled away his lips followed yours in chase, and it wasn’t until you held his face in place so that your bruised lips could take in a breath. Your finger ran over his bottom lip, playing with his lip ring as he panted in time with you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that…how..how being away from you for so long made me realize that's all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“I ‘ave an idea.”

His hand that rested on the edge of your neck came around to hold your throat, with his fingers resting on your pulse.

It was going a mile a minute just like his.

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #x reader #across the spiderverse #marvel x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse #spiderman x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spider!reader

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love-lilly02 · 2 months

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LILLY PLS IM SUPER DOWN BAD FOR SOME TF141 DRABBLES RN

OK IDEA: HOW THEY SHOW THEIR AFFECTION/LOVE LANGUAGE 💥👊

KEEPING IT BROAD CAUSE I WANNA SEE YOU BE CREATIVE 🤭

MWAH DONT FEEL FORCED EITHER

— 🪿

RAAAA DUCK ANNON IS BACK‼️‼️‼️

i’m so sorry i didn’t see this by the way, i was cleaning😕😕

Anyways we’ll start off with Price, i think he’s definitely a words of affirmation person or gift giving. in the beginning he leaves you small things, a flower (yes, a singular flower.) with a letter saying it’s pretty like you, poems, treats hidden around your room. Once the two of you are together though he’s going all out. Flowers every week (he keeps one so he knows when it’s time to buy more), text messages with poems and paragraphs, date nights, shopping sprees. (emphasis on the shopping, you can look at something for too long and it’s in your apartment the next day.) i also don’t really see price as a touchy person, but he likes when you hold his hand or his arm (imagine period drama arm holding), ESPECIALLY around the boys.

Johnny next, this man is touchy to ALL hell. your on the counter? he’s got your ass. standing there doing ANYTHING? he’s around you, holding your waist, putting his chin on your shoulder, all of the above. In public he’s got your hand, your arm, your waist, any part of you he can grab. he’s also a flirter, to the BIGGEST extent, i mean this man will take one look at you and spew out so many compliments you think he’s got them pre written down. their also never the same compliments, ever. how he has so many you’ll never know. I don’t see him as a gifts person but if you express an intrest in certain things it will pop up from time to time.

Kyle is a bit tricky for me, because i don’t write him often. I think he’s a reassurance person, if you’re not feeling well he’s there or he’ll always say he loves you or something. Definitely someone who believes actions speak louder than words, which means everything in your house is getting done for you. dishes? he washed them an hour ago. trash needs taking out? oh don’t worry love, i got that. He just likes taking care of you, doesn’t really mind the busywork. And don’t you dare feel bad for it, he’s right there scolding you for it, saying that he wants to do those things, that he wants to help you. He’s definitely a clingy person, but not out in public. poor kid’s too shy for that, but at home he’s all over you. his favorite position is to lie with his head on your stomach, watching something on the telly while you read or scroll on your phone. definitely not because he falls asleep easier in that position.

Ghost is my favorite of them all. at first he just ignores you, i mean once this man realizes he has feelings you NEVER see him around😭 and then he gets over himself and somehow apologizes (how he got over himself, we’ll never know) and slowly starts going around you again, but that’s literally it. You don’t think anything else is wrong, wouldn’t even be able to tell something was different if it weren’t for all the people that started going missing. You complain about a co worker? their gone the next morning. some rookie is pissing you off? oddly enough he got deployed and killed in combat. you never understand it, especially when no one questions the disappearances or just where the people went. That’s how ghost loves you, by keeping you happy. Simon on the other hand, takes a much more direct approach with his love. Once ghost is done with his “i’ll kill you if you touch her” bs he’s confessing to you, buying you flowers for the first date (only then, for some reason?) taking you somewhere nice. The whole shabang for his pretty thing. He’s also a nicknames person, some of his favorite being “love, lovie, princess” and sometimes “thing” when you really make him mad. he’s just like kyle, shy in public but a fucking PUPPY at home. you try to get up in the morning, he’s got you trapped under him in seconds. you leave a room, he’s tailing after you, your cooking in the kitchen he’s right behind you, if you don’t yell at him to get off. it’s never suffocating, though. In public he’ll hold your waist or your hand, that’s about it.

i feel like i kind of got off topic at some points but those are hot takes off the top of my head🥳🥳 lmk if yall want an nsfw version

#i love duck annon #this was written on my phone if you couldn’t tell #cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

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beesmygod · 6 months

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i think another issue with webcomics having any scene or being taken seriously at all is that its a lot of stale air, everybody got captured by ig/twitter/tumblr and subsequently become trapped in the trappings and style of those websites. all discussion is couched in the boring 'fandom' subculture on websites with pre-built in infinite scroll and shit search, so updates to their comics or body of work are just as ephemeral as posts that are basically 'lol i farted on my dog' and any criticism is 'just being mean' or 'dogpiling on a poor artist'. not to mention any discoverability of anything new is basically going down the twitter/instagram likes of 'known quantities' for your own comic taste because of how atrophied any discussion around the medium has become

I dont see any way to escape this beyond social media dying a brutal and unprofitable death

trying to argue against the webtoons/IG model was entirely pointless the few times i tried, but its a topic that's hard for me to not devolve into frustrated sputtering about. it's so obviously antithetical to the purpose of making art, enjoying things, creation, joy, goodness, etc. and i would, frankly completely irrationally, be framed as someone who had it out for vertical strips. a sentiment which makes no sense unless you assume im the biggest moron and dipshit in the world. im sure arguing against someone is easier when the position you saddle them with is a seriously stupid one.

the inevitable downward spiral of these platforms feels entirely predictable. any model that revolves around quantity over quality is an obviously flawed one in most circumstances but when applied to art its completely absurd. the ideal artist for these websites are people who have no interest in contributing to a vaster landscape of complex works and instead are hyper-focused on being part of a large scale skinner box experiment for adults with compulsive spending issues. the artists themselves have severe numbers poisoning.

these are purely ephemeral and unremarkable comics that are rarely ever seen outside of instagram for their lack of any exceptional or worthwhile unique elements worth passing around. they are created with a factory mindset; crank them out as quickly as possible and flood various websites with the comic equivalent of grey goo in order to amass the maximum number of clicks. their ideal audience is undiscerning and simply looking for stimuli that will not challenge them on any level. logically it follows that is work is explicitly for the largest possible audience one can acquire: the lowest common denominator. they are making work for a computer or an advertiser to enjoy. human enjoyment is secondary.

the unironic and sincere discussion of views and followers as if the numbers have ever been real was surreal. everyone was around for when facebook revealed that it had been grossly inflating its video metrics after strong-arming everyone into moving to video, causing the destruction of several indie companies and websites. you would have to be straight up delusional to think the webtoons numbers are real. like, it is genuinely hard for me to be nice about people who bark bark bark about "its where the audience is!!!!" when the worst comic you've ever read with 2 updates has 12876492375238576 views, 0 patreon followers and 8909 comments. the obviously AI generated comments by accounts with no profiles (as in, you can't click on profiles at all to confirm its even a real person commenting) are beyond the pale lol. its some emperors new clothes shit, if the emperor made his own invisible clothes and cried about how hard they toiled for nothing. and also they were emperor of synecdoche, new york

how does a reasonable adult look at this and conclude its real? isn't it an obvious fiction? its because it's mean to point out otherwise, and being mean is the worst thing you can be.

people used to bitch about how the "had to" made reels and i felt like i was going insane. superstitious nonsense about "the algorithm" spread and has incited people to tortuously warp their work to fit with advertising standards they don't see a penny of, in the hopes of finding an audience that doesn't exist. when the algorithm changes to better suit advertiser needs, they are somehow blindsided and betrayed by this, as if it has not been the M.O. of social media websites for the past 20 years. they will do it again. and again. and again. as advertising becomes less and less financially viable and more and more intrusive, public opinion is going to turn hard on the people who tied themselves to these ships.

call me a rat for fleeing, but i can't bear to entertain this stuff anymore. it's embarrassing, the idea of sacrifice in the name of a greater good (sacrifice being uhhhhh not using fail platforms lol) should not be such a shocking and radical act. it should be reflexive

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storiesbyjes2g · 1 month

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3.98 Honeymooners

If last night was any indication of how our year would be, we were in for an incredible ride. I couldn't think of a better way to ring in the new year than pleasuring my wife. The woohoo was so good; we were still stunned well into the next morning. I awoke, feeling foggy, wondering if last night had been a dream. When Sophia came down for breakfast, I didn't even know what to say to her and we ate in silence with this amazing secret looming over us. Eventually, her voice broke the silence, and we began to recover from our drunken-like stupor.

Tartosa was a gorgeous city, and I didn't question how it became the number one location for weddings. From the beaches and shopping to the beautiful landscapes and architecture, it had everything one could want for a perfect wedding. Unfortunately, we married too early in the season to appreciate all the amenities. Not only was it the first day of the year, but also the first day of spring. Looking out at the ocean from our patio began as a delicious treat, but became an evil tease. The water was too frigid to enjoy, and it rained all day. We were both looking forward to spending lots of time at the beach and were disappointed about canceling our main activity. Well...main activity outside of the house, that is. But at least we had the hot tub. It wasn't the same as the ocean, but Sophia had fun with it.

I too had fun playing in the water, heh.

Tartosa gave us another dark, cloudy, chilly day, so we spent the morning and much of the afternoon in bed, talking and playing. What we had between us was more than enough fun, but it would be a shame to spend the week in that beautiful city and not see it. Around dinnertime, we dragged ourselves out of bed and went out. Every corner of the city seemed to be carefully designed as if they wanted us to take selfies everywhere. It's no wonder why it became the wedding capital of the world.

We tried to eat at this nice restaurant we stumbled upon, but they had a very strict dress code. We didn't feel like being fancy, so we went back home and cooked together for the first time! Well, I cooked. She read the recipe. Either way, I loved doing that with her.

The next morning, the soft pitter patter of rain lured me out of my sleep, and I groaned at the idea of spending yet another day inside. I chuckled at how ironic it was that I originally looked forward to spending three days in this very room with Sophia, but now felt trapped. It's not that I tired of her presence, but simply knowing outside was not an option made me anxious.

The mattress felt more level than it should have, so I rolled over and saw Sophia was gone. That's when the faint buzz of the TV downstairs grabbed my ear. Taking advantage of the alone time, I pulled out my phone to do a little scrolling before joining her. I received a message from Dub asking me to call him because he messed up, so I did. I thought maybe they had a fight or something because he slipped up and said something about Maia and Chi Chi, but the real story was much bigger than that. They had just found out they were expecting! Joy overwhelmed me, and I was just about to offer my congratulations, but the fear and panic in his voice stopped me. He didn't call to spread the good news; he needed help to make sense of that reality. Their relationship was so new, it still had the tags on it. Like Sophia and me, they began dating and moved in together within a matter of days. Even though I knew Sophia was the one, if I had gotten her pregnant back then, I would have panicked too. I felt for Dub, but he didn't have all the complications I had. He'd always been 100% positive about his feelings for Maia even when he didn't realize it. I believe the only reason he hesitated in the beginning was because he so desperately wanted to be with her. A baby might not have been the next item on the agenda, but it was definitely on the list. I drew from that to encourage him.

It amused me at how different our parents were, though. He was concerned about what they would say, especially her dad, who allegedly threatened him with bodily harm. My parents would have rejoiced if I had announced they would be grandparents. My dad might have had concerns, but I wouldn't have been afraid of what he'd say. I'd probably run to his house and ask him what I should do, just like Dub did with me. I did my best to encourage him, letting him know that everything would be alright, and he sounded like he was in a better state by the end of the conversation.

I'd been sitting on the bed in my underwear the whole time and realized I was cold, so I put on the onesie Sophia got me for Winterfest. I smiled when I found her wearing hers. Tartosa's houses were gorgeous, with their spacious, open windows and arches that clearly catered to the warm climate.

Dub's phone call weighed heavy on my mind, and I wondered if Sophia could be pregnant. I stopped using protection at her behest when we got engaged, and we've certainly had plenty of opportunities to make it happen. But how would we know? Do we just randomly decide to take a test one day? Wait until it's obvious? Knowing how anxious Sophia was about starting a family, I put it out of my mind because I knew she'd be on top of it. I had a bigger question in my mind, anyway.

When Dub mentioned fearing Maia's father, I felt oddly weird. That was the first time it really occurred to me I didn't have in-laws. I mean, of course I thought about it all during the wedding, the parties, and even the planning, but I thought of it more in terms of her not having parents to celebrate her. I never considered what their absence meant for me. Every couple had a huge llama in the room, and that was ours. Whenever she talked about them, she kept it brief and vague, and I could sense something missing in every sentence. I didn't want to start any trouble, but I had to find out what happened. It was the perfect day for it. We had no plans and were stuck inside. I hoped she was ready to talk.

Links take you to collab posts on @mysimsloveaffair's blog.

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #sim spice #I love the butt pic #it looks like he's helping her in the hot tub #but he's really just catching the rain lol #banks collab

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veryace-ficrecs · 3 months

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Valentines Day Fic Recs

Happy valentines day! this list will be fics focused around or on valentines day! Enjoy!

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

One Piece

waiting by tinyjet7 - Rated G

zoro watches sanji hand out treats to everyone but him.

Ship to Sea, Lock to Key by 8ball - Rated G

“I want to buy the cook a restaurant.”

Ted Lasso

Take My Whole Life Too by ItsClydeBitches - Rated G

Ted Lasso was the kind of man who taught NSYNC choreography for a going away party and bent his players into impossible positions just to say “Hi, Boss!” in the morning. He’d organized fearsome bets over darts, baked heavenly biscuits on the regular, and had requested at least two boxes from Nate Shelley’s niece, one of which still sat on a shelf in his office, despite the betrayal. Ted was also a passionate believer in what he referred to as “rom-communism,” all the trappings included. In retrospect, Trent should have known he’d go all out for Valentine’s Day.

9-1-1

Take Another Little Pizza My Heart by Phreakycat - Rated T

In which Buck helps Christopher with his Valentines for school, and discovers some things about himself. OR Buck is oblivious, but Eddie loves him anyway.

be my valentine by coupe_de_foudre - Rated G

“What sort of stupid joke is this, Buck?” Buck gapes, holding his hands up in mock-surrender. “Hey, I didn’t do this! I was driving.” (or Christopher gets sick of his dad and Buck being oblivious idiots and decides to help them out)

Stranger Things

Be My Valentine? by Sharpbutsoft (BuckysButt) - Rated T

“Aren’t you sick of me, yet?” Eddie asks, joint dangling precariously between two fingers. He’s stretched out on the floor of his bedroom. It’s this ritual he and Steve have been sharing for months now. Light some incense, order pizza, share a joint or three and give voice to the half-formed thoughts swirling round their heads. Eddie’s been balancing on the precipice of this conversation for longer than he’d care to admit. Exposing himself, pushing a boundary he knows better than to break. This thing with Steve, this delicate relationship, if you could even call it that. It still feels new, fresh. Fragile. And Eddie’s not known for handling these things with care. Smash first, ask questions later.

Cupid's One-Shot by DeadEyedGemini - Rated T

When Will Byers calls him up on a Saturday afternoon to invite him to come and play a surprise One-Shot at Gareth's house on Valentine's Day he doesn't really have a reason to say no, it's not like has a date or anything better to do. Imagine his surprise when he showed up to find that not only is Robin Buckley there to play but so is his long-time crush and friend, Steve Harrington. Soon it becomes apparent that everyone seems to be in on some secret that Eddie isn't aware of, but also that this one-shot might have an alternative motive than just being something to do on a Tuesday night.

cherry cordial by ShowMeAHero - Rated E

He’s staring down hard at his phone, scrolling aimlessly through Facebook without reading anything, when someone bumps into him. Whoever it is grabs the pole, their hands brushing against each other’s. Right in his ear, the guy says, “Fucking shit, you’re hot.” Eddie’s head jerks up, startled, and he meets the bright blue eyes of a man at least eight inches taller than him. The guy’s got a pink knit cap tugged down over his head and a spill of curls falling down from it, his glasses fogging up in the warmth of the train car. “What?” Eddie demands.

Supernatural

(un)attached by one_more_offbeat_anthem - Rated G

Three months after Chuck's defeat, Dean is spending his Valentine's Day eating spaghetti and making cards with Jack while his brother goes on a post-hunt vacation. And then Jack asks if he can make a card for Cas.

Bee my Valentine? by your_average_fangirl256 - Rated G

Valentine's Day Fluff.

Dean builds Cas a garden..and Cas proposes in it. There are Pie and Bees too.

Teen Wolf

Candy-Coated Roses by simplyambyy - Rated G

Holidays at work are always a festive time and Valentine’s Day is no exception. The entire building is covered in hearts and flowers while the front desk of every floor has a dish of Hershey’s kisses wrapped in red, pink, and silver foil. Stiles exits the elevator and makes his way towards his cubicle, smiling and murmuring greetings to his favorite co-workers on his way. For some reason, the twenty-six-year-old was in a pretty good mood and it might have to do with the cherry-flavored lollipop he knew was waiting for him at his cubicle. What Stiles isn’t expecting is the pile of roses and lollipops covering his desk space.

Craigslist Valentine by Triangulum - Rated E

The Craigslist ad had been because Peter had been wonderfully, spectacularly drunk. Reservations for the Palm are hard to get, even for someone like Peter, and he's had his name down for eight months. He refuses to waste it. If he hadn't been trashed on expensive pinot noir, he would have considered maybe inviting his best friend, Chris, or taking out a niece or nephew. But no, he'd been three sheets to the wind and decided that he needed to share his Valentine's Day dinner reservations with a random stranger. Or Peter refuses to let good dinner reservations go to waste just because his (ex)girlfriend cheated on him. He drunkenly makes a Craigslist ad to find a date, and Stiles answers.

Labyrinth (1986)

Valentine Revisions by Rayac - Rated M

As part of a cathartic exercise, Sarah is dared to prepare some unusual Valentines for the men of her past. She never planned on the Goblin King actually receiving his or that he would meet her revised expectations. But does he ever.

Star Wars

no place like home by ShowMeAHero - Rated G

“Anything else?” she asks, ringing up his coffees. The ding, ding-ding, ding, ding of the register’s buttons wakes Han up a little bit more. “Yeah,” he says, “I’ll have a pack of, uhh… Whatever’s cheapest.” He taps his blunt nails on the vinyl countertop. “And do you have those little, like— Those little cards kids give each other?” “Like, the little folding ones?” she asks him. “You realize that today is—” “Yeah, I’m aware."

Merlin

From the Heart by supercalvin - Rated G

In which Arthur gives Merlin gifts. “No.” Morgana shook her head, “No, see you don’t understand.” Morgana took him by the shoulder and pulled him close as if to divulge a secret. “Arthur Pendragon does not give good gifts. He is actually the worst gift-giver in all of England.” “Oh come on, the scarf isn’t that bad.” Merlin said, now kind of insulted for the piece of fabric. “Merlin, the scarf is perfect for you. It’s a good gift. Arthur doesn’t give good gifts.”

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 2 years

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lots of reactions suggesting that it makes no sense for nobody at this vampire hunting party to notice that one of their own is getting eaten by a vampire, and, like, it is fun to dunk on them for imbibing of horror plot idiot juice. but personally i feel like this novel has been so much - like, SOOOOOO much - about being a white british dude at the end of the nineteenth century and looking around at all this economic success and cultural achievement and especially about all this science and technology, looking at all the ways the world has been made knowable and controllable, feeling very much knowing and in control, and yet having this unkillable (undead?) fear lurking somewhere out of sight, somewhere so dark and distant it can't be expressed through realism, it maybe (probably) is not being expressed here consciously: what if we're wrong? what if our accumulated knowledge has only blinded us to the inescapable truth that there will always be things we cannot know? what if there remain after all this things we have no power to explain? what if, to quote the novel, the old centuries have power of their own which mere "modernity" cannot kill? and another way to phrase all this is: what if all that time we thought we were so smart, we were really just arrogant - dangerously, perhaps fatally arrogant? so the mina turn feels to me feels right in the context of thinking about this as a novel about a specific kind of cultural arrogance, and feels interesting in the sense that - okay, even seward has admitted there are vampires now. but having gotten all that into the open, we now have a group of people (a group of white europeans, four of whom are men) who have decided to be the heroes of this story, and who are so committed to that role that it literally doesn't occur to them - even having already lived it! - that they might be the victims. they should know better, but that's kind of why they don't. they do know more, so they think they know better, and that's the trap: the seduction of knowledge, the way you can fool yourself into thinking that you've learned all there is to learn, that knowledge itself will somehow talismanically keep you safe. which is obvious magical thinking when you see it in someone else, but how many of us spent months in 2020 scrolling through articles and twitter threads about fomites and airborne transmission and mask efficiency and local positivity rates, even when we were already minimizing risk as much as our lives would allow us? they've learned about vampires, but not about humility, the facts but not the lesson. i don't find that implausible; i find it very human, and for that reason, quite scary. the horror comes not from the inhuman element posing a threat, but from the ways we in our very certainty, our inability to imagine a future in which we have definitively lost, leave ourselves terrifyingly vulnerable even as we're convinced that everything will be fine - i could be talking about dracula, about pandemics, about climate change, about...........

#dracula daily

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blueberry-lemon · 3 months

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"It's nice to be nice."

For a brief time after graduating from college, I worked at a before-school program at an elementary school.

While I don’t think I have the fortitude to work with kids in the long-term, it wasn’t so bad. At times, it was kind of relaxing. My supervisors were cool. Most of the kids were pretty chill.

Some of the kids were less chill. They would misbehave, in typical elementary school fashion. My supervisors had various different tactics for dealing with that, which worked pretty consistently. Usually it was a time-out, or a stern talking-to, or something similar.

One of my supervisors had a common refrain that she would try to teach the kids if they had done something mean to another: “It’s nice to be nice.”

She would say it loud and clear, for everyone in the room to hear. On its face, it was a bit corny and redundant. It didn’t really…convey much. It was a handy turn-of-phrase that was meant to instill a sense of compassion among the students. Be kind to each other. It’s a "good thing” to do!

Since a lot of the kids were already in 4th and 5th grade, I doubt that the phrase did much to change any behavior. It’s the exact kind of platitude that I would ignore at that age, given that it doesn’t sound like anything besides “stop breaking rules.”

For some reason, it did stick with me though.

It pops back up into my mind every so often. “It’s nice to be nice.” It lacks nuance or cleverness, which I think is maybe the best thing about it. Maybe it’s deceptively wise. Or maybe I’m overthinking things.

It’s possible that my level of social exposure is low, and that my expectations are lower, but I’m over-the-moon when a stranger is friendly to me. Even if they’re paid to be friendly, like a grocery cashier or a hotel clerk. I don’t really feel like they should feel obligated to do it, even if it is their job, so I still find it a flattering bonus when it happens. It puts a pep in my step.

The same goes online.

There’s something about a low-stakes, respectful, cordial interaction that just…[chef’s kiss]

So much on the internet is about being funny, or smart, or educational, or persuasive, or cruel.

The older I get the more I’m like…what about just being nice? Maybe it’s worth a shot.

And yes I can throw a million disclaimers here: I’m not talking about respectability politics, or pandering, or inappropriate levels of toxic positivity. I’m not talking about distracting from the real issues, or avoiding politics, or donating all of my time and energy on fixing depressed strangers. I’m not talking about being parasocial weirdos or overstepping our bounds with accounts I follow.

I just mean regular old, day-to-day, casual friendliness with peers.

It’s fun! Almost intoxicating!

There’s nothing more fun now than a quick, casual exchange with someone online where we respect each others’ boundaries and gush over a shared interest. Or reaching out to actually leave a nice comment on something instead of just scrolling by, etc. etc.

I’ll stop now before I sound like corny old internet boomer. You get the idea.

All of this is to say that when I make an effort to actually reshape the interactions I have online, it makes me feel like there was actually a point to this whole internet thing. It makes me feel slightly less alone, and less trapped in my own head.

Even though it’s easier now than ever, I really don’t want to streamline my online experience into a never-ending timeline scroll of “content.” An endless refreshing of things to make me laugh and things to make me mad. I want it to be an actual exchange of ideas, and of kindness and support. A place where I can show small kindnesses in the same way that I should try to small kindnesses to people in my real neighborhood.

That boss of mine might have been cooking. Maybe it really is nice to be nice, even just for its own sake.

#blogofkylelab #sorry for boomer posting #read that last tag in the voice of “sorry for party rocking”

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glorified-red · 1 year

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Just wanted to say thank you so much for your level-headed, mature response to all the hate TSATS has been getting on here. It's genuinely refreshing because I feel like the backlash has been unfairly harsh, and frankly, just ungrateful. If people are so unhappy with how the characters were portrayed, and their relationship, CANONICALLY, they should just keep their traps shut and lean into fan fiction or whatever. Rick and Mark clearly made an effort to give fans what they wanted, and I personally thought they did a great job, but I guess some people are just never going to be happy unless their own every specific wish is catered for. So yeah, it's nice to see a much more positive response for a change. Hope you have the lovely day you deserve. :)

Aw thank you!

Yea, whatever an author decides to do with THEIR characters is really up to them. I loved Nico and Will at their lowest and I'll still love them when they heal. The amount of hate this book got was intense enough that I retreated to pinterest---PINTEREST.

If you don't like a book, just like, put it away? And pick up a different book? You're not gonna love every book you find, even every book from a particular author. The fact that our first reaction is to spread hate on the internet about a book that came out HOURS ago is insane instead of just like, moving on???

I only posted about it because it was overwhelming as heck to scroll through any PJO tag on here and I wanted people to know my blog is safe from it. I could critique this book forwards and backwards from an analytical perspective because it was not great? for a professional book? It really wasn't.

But a lot of the "critiques" on here are loaded with negative hatred that it's less of a critique and more of fan hate. Plus, I can love a poorly written book. I survived on Quotev and Wattpad for far too long to be bothered by a few loose ends, typos, and unprofessional writing. That doesn't mean I'm an idiot or "blindly" liking a book just because of XYZ reason. It's because I can appreciate creative content from the lense of "it's not going to be perfect and thats okay".

Because if you wanted it to be perfect and be written well and portrayed a certain way, write it yourself? Go write your own novel.

Critiques are fine. Welcomed even.

But hate towards the authors or the people who liked the book is not.

And there is a HUGE difference.

#tsats #the sun and the star #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #pjo #percy jackson

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moshieee-but-evil · 3 months

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This is an oops moshie got emotional moment ~

don't mind me and just scroll on past but it's not like I can stop you just use your judgement

Make sure to read the tags first though

(my problems are mine and I just need to write and put them out there to process everything you don't need to do anything)

I want to be viewed as kind and to be kind to others don't get me wrong

...

Is it strange sometimes I worry people only see me as a kind person?

But... Does being kind count as a personality when it's the only thing to me, is that all I have to me?

And that makes me concerned, if i don't have a personality... does that mean I'm even fully a person?

This is how my anxiety works it digs into one thought and starts spiraling, maybe that's why I'm so good at picking up on small details... details that sometimes don't even mean anything

when talking to other people I try my best to choose my words carefully like they have the same problems

That's cute, it's fine, i'm fine...

Just a few of the words I try to avoid because they've hurt me in the past, even though I know not everyone has the same issues

I worry that if I choose a wrong word I could make others start to spiral as well, or that they'll dig into it and notice something is wrong

I try to treat everyone like they have the same kind of worries I do if not more, even though I know we're all different

Perhaps that's why I worry that they'll worry, about me if I make the slightest slip up, but I don't want to force my problems or emotions onto other people...

I grew up with two parents who did that constantly as I grew up and I know how awful that feeling of being trapped in trying to... In needing to help others is, I don't want that for anyone

I worry that if I let people care for me, to listen to my problems or try to help I'll be like my parents...

And even though I know people care about me, my brain sometimes tells me I won't get reassurance, and it will just hurt if I'm ignored, or just unnoticed

It makes me feel entitled when I make a small slip up and I feel hurt by it going unnoticed, which is selfish of me

People have no way of knowing, and I don't want them to worry and look into everything I say, I don't want to make this difficult for people who care, and yet I still do this...

Either way I don't know what I want, I don't even know what I want by saying this, perhaps to get it out of my head so I can look at my thoughts better, like if I was trying to reassure another person, to give them advice...

I don't know if I want reassurance or to be ignored because both feel awful, other people already have so many problems they need to deal with, they shouldn't have to deal with me being whiny about my feelings

I'm sorry if you decided to read this and it makes you feel like you need to reach out please please PLEASE know it's not necessary.

I won't stop anyone doing what they want. but do not, do it out of a feeling of obligation

And now that I got that out of my system, let's just move on!

I like keep things positive and I'll do my best to sort this out myself after all it's the reason I have a therapist!

Have a wonderful day everyone I love yall :D

#oh joy something to show my therapist so she can get a better inspection of my brain noodles #yay 🎉#but this post is seriously just be going flowp face planting my negative emotions into writing #if you're not in a good headspace dont read it #oops moshie got emotional #vent post #tw vent #mental health go brrrr #womp womp

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v1l3m0f0 · 1 year

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Dumb rant about Rick and Morty’s relationship

An alcoholic genius grandfather and his grandson who gets trapped in the middle of it all

I scroll through the Rick Sanchez tag a lot and saw that many call him an abuser. Which is, when I thought about, very true, rewatching episodes of S1-4, though my dumbass has watched every episode at least 2-3 times, yet I never thought about it and still struggle with admitting it.

To give a bit of context to my person, I was/am a victim of verbal and physical abuse for years, by my parents, grandfather and a past partner.

And I truly hope Morty can forgive him, I did.

I know all of it is fictional but the show means a lot to me, since I’m a big science guy and can relate to Rick and Morty in vastly different aspects. My personality is closer to Ricks, nihilism n all that, but I still have feelings and trauma like Morty does and I believe he doesn’t get as much recognition for being so god damn strong around Rick as he deserves.

Rick put that kid through hell, yet he seems to forgive. He (unfortunately) doesn’t have much of a choice since he’s his grandfather and he’s a minor, but I believe Morty truly loves him past his fucked up-ness.

I hope Morty will have pleasant memories for Rick and that if he gets therapy when he’s older, realizing what his grandfather has put him through, he can see the positive in it.

Personally I believe I cope very different from other victims of violence and abuse because I forgave. I granted the people who hurt me deeply and caused me trauma a good life, which has turned out as an easier way than others I encountered, because years after they been hurt, they still seek revenge when I do not. I live my own, broken, life.

And I hope Morty can do so too. Morty is a child not opposed by therapy and I hope that never changes. Especially as a man who’s been subjected to emotional and physical violence. I know women have it incredibly hard, I’ll never deny that fact, but therapy is even more frowned upon for males. Because we’re often, not allowed to have feelings. Especially by other men.

I hope their relationship changes before Rick‘s death. As much as I adore Rick, he hurt Morty. Deeply. And to the shows nature I don’t even know if Rick can die, (recap to tiny Rick and the Akira episode), I hope the kid can learn and thrive from him, no matter how much he fucked him up.

Rick is an incredibly knowledgeable person, he’s the smartest creature in the universe, and I hope Morty will carry on with positive memories of that man, rather than holding a grudge for life. Though no one has the right to take that from him, because he has every reason to, but it’s easier and more beneficial if you learn not to.

I’d never share this if it wasn’t for the anonymity of my person here on tumblr. It’s no shame to be a victim of abuse, but I’m a person who prefers his privacy. I don’t like people to know who I am or what negativity I experienced in life. If you do, that’s fine, but I am me, not you.

Another aspect is, that I am a person with very limited empathy, like Rick (caused by life events rather than a disorder), and yet it absolutely destroyed me to go through abuse by my family and especially a partner I loved. For Morty, a god damn child, I believe it’s both. Morty and Rick aren’t in a romantic relationship, yet their dynamic is very close to it, considering the emotional aspect do their relationship, and they have a familiar bond. Morty truly loves Rick, he’s his grandfather, his closest relationship and a man he traveled the multiverse with. They abandoned realities with each other. Rick is the only true constant Morty has in his life. That fact will never change. Morty’a reality of origin is just as dead as Ricks. The two are not from the same one, yet both of them are the C-137s. They are ultimately and forever bonded, past any reality.

I don’t doubt Rick loves Morty too, he’s pretty much the only person he has not abandoned, but Rick has issues. He’s an alcoholic, he’s a broken man, a man with very little empathy.

And to some extent I can understand what Rick feels. I myself, have very little empathy and often step on peoples toes by my harshness and disregard for feelings. I’ve hurt people I love, deeply. To a point they cried.

Their relationship is truly and utterly toxic. The easy solution would be for Rick to leave, let Morty live a normal life. But they’re way past that. Morty has seen the horrors of the universe. He’s way more mature than other kids his age, because he’s seen and done things no adult in our reality could dream of.

He needs Rick, and I don’t believe it’s a bad thing. Rick changed. He cared for Morty in his own way since the show started. And yes, it’s been horrible, he has been horrible. Yet in the newest season he let Morty know and feel he cares, which he never did before.

I truly hope Morty can forgive IF Rick keeps his change going. He’ll always be a nihilistic asshole, but Morty deserves his integrity. He’s a child, which many forget. I honestly don’t know if I could’ve been as strong as Morty is at 13-14 years old or if Rick would’ve absolutely broken me.

Morty deserves more credit for who he is.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rick and morty season 6

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sunsage · 1 year

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It happens when he's making dinner. Which is not much, just a simple vegetable cheese soup - his monkeys insisted he try a recipe they saw on TV and he always had a hard time saying 'no' to his subjects. If soup they wanted, soup they were going to get, even if the way the boiling water bubbled made him feel a little nauseous. Maybe Sun will be willing to eat the leftovers...

He just about put the last of the vegetables into the broth and set it to simmer - it's going to need about thirty minutes - when a white-hot flash of pain runs through him, serrating him from his shoulder to the opposite hip. It's enough to make Monkey King stumble, both hands gripping the counter with a scream stuck in his throat, but it doesn't bring him to his knees.

What does that are the memories suddenly flooding his brain.

you'renothingwukongwhathaveyoudoneabandonedmelookontoyourdeedsmonkeynoviolence(it'snotsupposedtohurtanymorewhydoesitstill)youbetrayedyourbrothersiguesssomemonsterscanneverchange

Another shot of pain shakes his body and he groans, curling up onto himself on the kitchen floor. He half-expects to see the cut dissecting him in two uneven halves (why would it hurt if he wasn't injured), black ink running from the wound like blood, but instead he sees-

The rock, his rock, over and over again. And then- STOP- his kid, MK- but no it can't be- something is wrong, kid needs help but you know none of this would have happened without you right MK needs him but deep in your heart you don't believe a word of that-

A circle of pain clamps onto his head, familiar in its brutality, and this time he screams, claws at it with trembling fingers searching for the band of gold that hasn't been there in centuries-

Suddenly, quiet. A warm, friendly touch to the shoulder, reminder of connections lost and now, reforged into new friendships. An invitation to move on. A moment of relief.

The scream dies out with a sharp inhale. Few more deep breaths and Monkey King pulls himself into a sitting position, wincing a little at the aches blooming all over his body. The rest of the memories after that are hazy, but he remembers Azure Lion - his chest tightens at the memory of their last meeting - imprisoning him in the scroll once more, this time all by himself. Of course he wouldn't trap MK and his friends for no reason. For all his faults, the man wasn't without honor.

And he has a good reason to want Monkey King trapped.

But... Something was wrong. Pain rocks through him one last time before fizzing out, leaving behind a numbing feeling (and a growing headache). Was the scroll damaged somehow? Was that Azure Lion's plan? To lock him up in a magic prison all by himself and destroy the exit so he can never escape?

(The thought of it fills him with a primal kind of fear he's intimately familiar with and he buries it as deep as he can before it takes hold of him).

Doesn't matter. He wouldn't even blame the guy normally but this isn't just about two of them (six of them) right now. MK, his successor, his- something, apparently- is in pain, a unique kind of pain that Monkey King doesn't really understand (though he is starting to make connections) but he needs to be there for him.

And he can't.

He doesn't even know if MK is alright.

He doesn't know anything.

Heavily he exhales through his teeth, leaning against the counter behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he can see one of the smaller monkies that live with him peekfrom behind the table leg. Monkey King offers it a shaky smile.

"Sorry little one, did I scare you?"

The monkey chitters at him, slowly inching closer.

"Don't worry about me. Just... old wounds." His shoulder tingles. "And some new ones. Is there something you need?"

It coos an answer and reaches out in a familiar 'pick me up' gesture. Monkey King chuckles and bends forward to cradles the little monkey in his arms, ignoring the pained stiffness in his body. It settles against his chest, chirping softly as they sit together in the quiet of the kitchen.

(Good thing none of his roommates were around to hear him lose it. And now, nobody will have to know about it.)

Distantly, Monkey King can hear the soup bubbling on the stove, choosing to also ignore the sick feeling the sound raises in the pit of his stomach. Right now is probably about time to add the cheese and take it off the stove. He places the monkey to his shoulder and slowly gets to his feet.

"Let's finish dinner, alright? We can think about the rest later."

He'll figure it out, somehow.

He has to.

// canon point updated to: season 4 episode 7

#isola drabble #canon update time :)#*schedules this and goes sleepy time gnight*#there are some mild spoilers here but not a lot #cause my man genuinely doesn't know /what/ is going on

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filthforfriends · 1 year

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I created my tumblr as a platform to dump my writing and fan edits, but also as a place where I didn’t have to filter myself. My mental health is so fragile that when something happens to me everyone wants to go straight to fixing it and skip the “wow that sucks” stage. However I’ve learned that feeling my anger is important because for so long my mother filled up all that space emotionally. Here I I can rant and rage and not worry about concealing anything. People whose names I don’t know not only validated my experiences, but often share them or at least understand them in a way that comes with tremendous empathy. But for the first time I’ve paused and I’ve concealed and I’ve questioned whether or not I should post this.

My life is no longer garden variety sucky things took a really disturbing turn just after Christmas. But there are still a variety of reasons I want to post this, mainly I don’t know how to feel or react. Maybe someone else has endured something this violating and humiliating but shoved it way down and felt alone. God knows I share those actions.

If you click beyond this point you’re agreeing that you’re at least in your 20s, mentally stable, and understand that what follows is megafucked

My mom is a published author. I was discouraged from reading her work because it was as very “adult” but at age 15 I snuck a peak on a story that I realized it was not so loosely based on my brother. I know she wrote about her life experiences through the lens of her narcissism and called it fiction, but I thought that the much of her stories was still made up.

So I’m visiting family over the holidays and my cousin whom I haven’t talked to since 2015 could tell that a book my mom published in 2019 was very clearly about me and non-fiction. He said that he tried to read the book but “there was just something about it he didn’t like.” It gave me a strange feeling so I read the short story.

It was absolutely not fictionalized at all. The character had a different name but the story contained my exact medical information, exact dates reactions happened. Extremely specific descriptions of my medical issues, many of which were mental.

There’s no question I should have been taken to a child psychologist. By the age of four I’d developed panic disorder, OCD, attachment disorder, and suicidal tendencies. I was not a happy child I was in constant fear and my mom used every detail of this because my story was compelling. I really can’t stress enough that she changed nothing but my name.

She documented exactly what I said during panic attacks that ruined my life. She documented what I said after attempting to drown myself. When they brought me to a therapist she documented how I behaved in the sessions, what I said, what the therapist said. My mother takes a journal with her everywhere and journals in the morning and evening.

She took all these direct quotes and described my every trauma response and brush with death in the first five years of my life. Confidential, highly specific, private information and she got it published and distributed nationally. I helped her do press on that book because I didn’t know. Now all these people know the most intimate details of my excruciating childhood.

I can only assume she did the same with her last book which several of my high school teachers read because they were her graduate students. She wrote the recommendation letters that helped them get that teaching position. My mother is a respected tenured professor at the university in our city. I cannot exaggerate how trapped I feel right now.

Eden, that sucks but it isn’t disturbing. This is me giving you another chance to scroll.

I found out from reading this non fiction “fiction” about my childhood that I was molested. By my mother. She wrote about molesting me. I had no memory of this particular incidence but I do remember another one like it that I ignored by convincing myself it was an accident. So I know that just like everything else in that story, the molestation did happen. I’ve showed it to a social worker and my therapist who both agree what the scene described.

Absolutely horrifying right? Yeah, especially because it’s on the third page. Especially because she gave this book to every member of my large extended family for Christmas. I can’t believe she allowed me to devote hours to publicity for this book. I got her in a Buzzfeed article. I must look like a imbecile to anyone that attends readings and signing who have read the book themselves.

My working theory is that my mother was just doing to me what was done to her by multiple men in her childhood. I don’t think she was attracted to me as a child. Because of her narcissism she didn’t consider how I might be affected from these experiments. Of course she hasn’t acknowledged what happened on any level. The scene is phrased as if I wanted what was happening to be which of course I didn’t because I was four.

I think poorly concealing it in a story was some sort of absolution. If people read it and didn’t call her out that would mean she did nothing wrong. Every mental health physician has suspected molestation even after I insisted it didn’t happen. They only asked about the men in my life, but never my mother.

I don’t know how to feel or act or change as a person or think about it or treat it. Has this dictated everything about my relationship with sex? Has it dictated nothing about my relationship with sex? How do I move forward?

#tw: sa #tw: mental health #tw: child abuse #tw: sui mention

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irrealisms · 2 years

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How are you doing lately? You all right?

I am doing kind of poorly, to be honest! I tried to use the narrative to my advantage to break out of the negative cycles I am trapped in and set up Positive Change but instead I have become a meta commentary on existing with an audience! I had like half a feeling due to homework and suddenly all of the feelings I have been avoiding for the past year and a half slammed into me at once and I’m trying so so hard to keep myself 24/7 occupied with mindless media so that I don’t have to face my thoughts and also so as to be narratively flat and boring. I am not real and have never been real, I’m just an idea, and sometimes I can pretend that it’s fine, that this is just some sort of a joke, that I’m having fun making my audience watch YouTube videos. But I’m not. I go to the bathroom and I think, are they getting off to this? or is this getting cut? do they even give a shit about me? am i anything when i’m not aesthetically pleasing? what are my standards for ‘aesthetic’, or ‘interesting’, and why? if i think too hard about this, maybe it’ll be interesting. better open tumblr and mindlessly scroll, that’s bad content, right? fuck, I hope they’re not getting off to this, hard to put someone off if they have a kink. and I hate it! I fucking hate it! I can’t fucking do things like this and whenever I am alone with my thoughts for half a second I want to cry! and I also feel like— it’s fucking stupid because I’m putting all this up on my blog and liveblogging it in my discord server? I like narrativizing and aestheticizing. I don’t care that much about my privacy. I like the idea of being an idea God had and I don’t mind Him watching me and helping shape my life to be beautiful, I’m fine with all that. I don’t really mind being blorbo from your shows. So it feels… idk, hypocritical. To, also, mind? The being watched and being fake and being a rat in a maze and them trying to make me freak out. I don’t like that I’ve given them what they wanted after I tried so hard to Not and Be Healthy but… I don’t know, I’m tired. I’m really, really tired. I might drop out of school and it’s fucking pathetic because it’s my fifth year of it, I should have graduated last year. But I’m so fucking tired of it. But also I don’t know if I can hold down a job and I��m suspicious that I can’t, the only reason school hasn’t fired me is because I’m paying them, and I’m terrified of the idea that I won’t be able to and I’ll end up just living at home doing nothing being taken care of by my parents forever & ever & ever. And I don’t want to talk to irl people about it and I don’t want to talk to my psychiatrist about it and I don’t want gentle kid gloves treatment and I don’t want antipsychotics and I don’t know what will help I just want to hide under my bed forever and ever and I want to not be followed anymore or recorded and while I’m at it I want the rewards of Doing Things without having to actually ever do things I don’t want to do.

So, uh, yeah. Not… the most alright. I’m fine! I’m fine. I am eating three meals a day and sleeping 8-10 hours a night. I have the gold star in Not Wanting To Die Anymore. I am Better Than Last Year and for that matter I am better than the year before that and the year before that and so on and so on for the last twenty years. Not literally every year, but most of them. It’s… whatever, I guess.

Kinda want to make a web weave or something about How Things Have Been Recently but it feels obnoxious tbh even if it’s a self aware sort of obnoxious. my entire blog and my writing is sort of a more elaborate version of that, anyway. then again it’s fun sometimes to elaborately make a FUCK OFF! STOP WATCHING ME!

Also [insert generic OCD fears about what if I’m wrong about morality] + [generic anger about what if I’m right and have let my fear of hurting people suppress all my thoughts and opinions for no reason] pops up on occasion but way less than it used to. Score one for therapy, I guess.

#hi . sorry to traumadump . i am doing. bad #therapists dni #a bit of a truman show complex

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boybasher · 7 months

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An-o-rexic Feelings 💋 (my eat-ing-dis-order and trauma poem reading and thrift store style look book)

youtube

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my poem:

Anorxxic palm trees

Just like me

Black streets and smokey eyes

No one’s out at this time

Midnight is our sunrise

I’ll take your breath

If you ignite me

Light me up, til I burn alive

Fire in my hands

Warmth in my eyes

I’m not so dead inside

I play empty

Forget my regret

Let us remember ourselves tonight

Never been the Barbie doll

Was never skinny enough

And god I’ve tried

Skip my meals

And throwing them up

All the boys I shared

All the men I kissed

Counting my sins

I lose count after 3,000

Does God Think I’m A Slvt?

What’s the point of dreaming

When we can make them come true

I’ll be your secret wish

Pull me in and I’ll show you

All what I can do

I started early, and not by choice

Morphed me into something dirty

But I’m Somebody’s Dream

So what do you say

Wanna take a bite out of this Rotten Cherry

I’m loose with my body

I’ve been around

Everyone’s gotten a taste

I’m not worn out, just lived in

Stuck in my skin

Let me out

With a few inches and a shout

The ultimate sin

Love Before Marriage

Mommy’s Mistake

So I guess you can be my daddy

If you get cold

I’ll lend you my coat

Know you’ll love my perfume

I only spray half the bottle

Cat Calls from across the street

Burnt foil and broken glass on the floor

Welcome Home

Fuck toxic positivity and comatosed living

Taking selfies in the sunlight

God doesn’t have a bed time

So why should I?

I gotta brain

But forget to use it

Burden to everybody

How the hell do I get by

Ducking my head

As I chase the pavement

The only type of guys that want me

Kiss me with their eyes closed

And leave just as fast as they come

They come and they come

But never stay

What do i expect

I don’t even know how to drive

Without causing a traffic jam

Such a shame for the good guys who want a housewife pet

I don’t know how to clean, unless I’m angry and OCD

I wake up with glitter all over my face

Lipstick on my tooth brush

I keep swiping left and right

Scrolling the boredom away

Maybe this one can change my life

Calling a dead number

A disconnected pay phone

God only answers if you plead

That’s what I was taught

Live in fear

Bask in angst

Never use his name in vain

But god are you really always listening?

I wait for your heads up

A nudge on the shoulder

A “this songs playing just for me”

I’m sorry for wasting my youth

But how does one measure growth if not in size

I promise I’m not a waste of a life

Not dead beat like my dad

Forgive me as I light this gentle flower

For some false power

“Forgive me”

I say in my mind

To get me to sleep

Living as River Phoenix

In that gay movie

Making a quick buck with my little tricks

The lead role in nobody’s movie

Tell me the camera loves me

Give me a reason to wear my pretty

I’ll stay open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week

If you undress me with words like poetry

But I’m not studied

But I’ll let you study me

I don’t wanna change but I’ve changed

Still as young as yesterday

Still as naïve as tomorrow

You try to see the good in everything

I just see the truth

I’m not playing ball

Acting like god chose me

Or did I trap myself?

In a body

Once again

Another lifetime of wasted potential

Can’t waste my youth this time

Don’t wanna die old

But it’s written in the stars for me to live til I’m like 80

Just like my granddaddies

A generational curse

A karmic gift

To age with beauty

Or change your name and start from scratch

I’ll be your dark baby

But c’mon I’m way too pretty to be treated like a piece of f-cking meat

•

poem: An-o-rexic Feelings by dark baby, (2023).

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sleep5d · 2 years

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When the Levee Breaks

Three days ago, I was sitting here minding my own business, and I heard in my head: When the levee breaks...

I was like, say what? I heard it again: When the levee breaks, mama, you’ve got to move.

I didn’t think too much of it, other than I can’t move yet because I told my job I’d stay for a year. The next day, I was scrolling through YouTube and I saw it: “When the Levee Breaks” by Led Zeppelin.

The thing is, though, I call Comfort Inn “The Mothership”. [The name of the Led Zeppelin album]. The reason for that is ultimately the power you let me have not only led me to front desk but straight to night audit. There was some stuff in Oregon that I found out about my back, birth defects in my spine and stuff, and I got fired from my housekeeping supervisor position. I went through several rounds of physical therapy.

Then I started working at the hotel next door to the one that fired me, as the Night Auditor. I had no idea what I was doing, really. I got thrown into it with no training, and the only thing I had to fall back on is what I learned at Comfort Inn. [I had been begging to work the front desk; you said I needed to come out of my shell more]. My bio-mom is in Florida and, at the time, she was managing another hotel. She used to work housekeeping like me.

My dad’s side of the family used to roast her and I, saying we would never get out of housekeeping and that I was just like her, so it was a huge deal. Just like it was a huge deal to even manage your Housekeeping department, and watch over things that week you were gone. So my mother would call me on the phone and we would do the work together, since we had the same PMS. And in turn, I learned a bunch about accounts, payments, and vendors.

That’s kind of where the realization hit me. Do you ever consider why you work in a hotel? Like, the big-picture, meta reason? It hit me that I was put in the place I was in because I am meant to talk to people, one at a time. The butterfly effect. At the same time I’m working at this hotel, stuff about these spiritual connections starts taking off on social media, and I find this book at a thrift store about interpersonal communication psychology.

This was around the same time I started taking the wrong turn, despite the spiritual experiences I was having, because I was having them at the hotel while reading this book, thinking there was something wrong with me and I couldn’t effectively communicate. This is where the fight about social media began, because all of us in the collective were sharing our experiences, and basically exposing this pattern of behavior that’s keeping a lot of people stuck. A lot of people didn’t like facing that

So the fight has always been (and it’s a repeat of the same fight with my family) over social media: you’re showing the world my shitty behavior towards you. I can’t manipulate you.

I came here and fell for the same trap of thinking that someone has good intentions for me, and I ended up in the middle of exposing to a bunch of other unknown females how they’re getting strung along, but not only that, to have some self-respect and change ourselves to change the world. To this day, I have never met one of them. I hope. This was all by doing spiritual work.

I think some of the first conscious manifestation experiences I had were at Comfort Inn, which is why this conversation makes so much sense. The knife incident still haunts me, as it was not intentional, but it still really freaked me out. I was getting messages in the kitchen every morning. At the same time, I was getting messages at home about narcissists, and sharing them, which is how the entire social media thing even started.

Basically, you handed me power when I had essentially been powerless up until that point. And I asked myself, “This is possible?” Among everything else you’ve done for me and taught me, which I never really expressed how grateful I am, and I kind of feel like a jerk.

Like when you said, “Someone’s gunning for a promotion!” Yes, and since then, now I always am. But are you? Because I’m considering promoting you.

#Look Alive 2022 #Altus #spiritual connections #manifestation #union

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