#(Lead Up To It Anyway)

[bloominglegumes]

i love normal guys doomed by the narrative

[intotheelliwoods]

I have been meaning to do a crossover with the one and only @kathaynesart for such a long time! And the @tmntaucompetition has created the perfect excuse for this :)

I think Sprout and Omega would have a surprising amount in common, they have a lot they can talk about with one another!

Apologies for the cliffhanger- haha- whoops-

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[kroosluvr]

force of habit – which, all things considered, isn't such a bad thing.

[journey-to-the-attic]

the rest of the cast got their new song covers, so i wanted to try putting the others in a band :>

i did want to make it look a bit like an album cover but i have no idea how those are designed so eh?? i also couldn't think of any band or album/song names so. if anyone has any ideas...

[theminecraftbee]

Here is how to slowly, completely, and irrevocably fall into having someone know your soul as well as you do theirs:

First, be enemies, but of circumstance. Neither of you were really on opposite sides so much as connected to them. You think he loved them, though, that side that was only your enemy by virtue of not being your ally. He loved them, even if he didn't spend as much time with them. You mock him for this. For calling their leader 'king'. (Later, you'll hold onto mockery like it's all you have. You know it's not a game and you know he was really king, but without your ability to make fun of what's happening, you won't be much at all.)

You have a best friend then. This, too, is almost an accident, although to explain all the ways it's also on purpose will take longer than you have to explain. He's wonderful, and loyal, and going to die. So you die fast and young first, before him. You die in front of your friend. You die in front of him.

You don't regret it, the dying young, because it means you die before anyone else can die for you.

Second, watch your best friend fall in love with him, although that phrase feels both too pedestrian and too much like it's overstating the thing that really happens. You have your own drama for too long to really understand how it happens, of course. You're too busy facing a betrayal that will scrape the inside of your soul forever. (To tell the truth, you've already forgiven him for it, but there's something easy about being each other's enemies, so you keep going, orbiting around each other in betrayal betrayal betrayal. But that's someone else who knows your soul, another story.)

Then your best friend dies, as does nearly everyone else. You sit around a campfire with him. You tell him that your best friend trusts him; you'll trust him too. He stands by your side near the end, the two of you running together, another man's memories on your lips.

You're not sure what you regret, then, but you know there's something that won't undo that's a part of you now.

Third, learn the value of choices, as the universe tries its best to take yours from you. In this one, the people you're by the side of is at once familiar and strange. The finalists who'd protected you last time are now an ugly mix of your chosen soulmate and your enemy by making that choice; you attempt to hold on to your ability to choose even as blood makes it clear you can't. (The universe tried to pick someone who would fit you well, you realize later. More people who know your soul that this story isn't actually about. You care for him too, is the thing; you care for choosing more.)

You don't see him much, this time. You respect each other, though. It's hard not to respect each other after everything that's happened. Still, you don't see him, and he doesn't see you. Instead, you see the end of the game. You nearly hold it in your fingers.

You regret. You regret deeply. You are so tired of watching people die, you think, and you regret more than anything else that you couldn't stop it.

Fourth, become enemies, but this time intentionally. Enemies, maybe, is a strong word; you're assigned co-parents, except bad, divorced ones. There's something hysterical about the whole thing, in both the comedic sense of the word and in the original, more concerning sense, especially given the way you all have thought about your best friend-now-son in the past. (Family ties are a thing you'll come to value; it's just that what the names are don't count, really, not when you do this again and again and again. Plus, it's nice to be able to have an excuse to yell.)

It's almost fun again. Maybe it's almost fun. You trade barbs with each other, and try to kill each other, and this time the consequences are light enough that you try to help each other, too. You see each other a lot. You're enemies, of course, but you see each other a lot, as you are: scared, and tired, and not as frightening as you appear, and happy, despite it all.

You don't regret much. You die fast and young, alongside your allies. You see his face before you do though, and you think he's the one with regrets.

Fifth, trip over him as you run across the first session of a new game. You don't know yet what this one will be, if it will be betrayals, or more stolen choices, or family, or fun, or anything else, but you look him in the eyes and make a choice. You will be friends this time instead of enemies. And it's nice. He and you fit together oddly now, but well, despite the oddities. You've had time to learn to, from a distance, and then closer and closer. (People seem baffled you're friends now. You wish you could explain that that's how these stories go sometimes.)

You're pretty certain he'll leave you when the time comes. He says he's a runner, and not a protector, and yet, when the time comes to betray you, you both know he won't hurt you, and you're both surprised anyway.

"You might regret this," you tell him quietly. You both have scars.

"You might regret this," he agrees. But you also both have choices.

"Okay," you say. "Have you ever fallen in love?"

"Cleo," he says, brushing your hair aside, and he doesn't answer.

"I don't think I have," you say honestly. "I think it's something else. Have you ever accidentally given someone a piece of your soul?"

"All the time," he says, and that's that.

The end is coming soon. You'll find out if you regret it.

[pokimoko]

haunting the narrative -> haunted by the narrative -> haunting the narrative -> haunted by

[shrugsinchinese]

God forbid women do anything

[kitamars]

in my ponykata feels rn

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN BIRTHDAY COUNTDOWN (2024):  ↘ D-DAY | HAPPY BIRTHDAY HWANG HYUNJIN❣️

[shevr]

stuck lid hack

[unlikely-gravestones]

knight hob knight hob knight hob

[artkaninchenbau]

Herding 🐑✨ [Shop]

[starflungwaddledee]

did you know that coo is canonically lonely? {shipaganza prompt by @veveisveryuncool}

[jadewritesficshere]

Just ask me

Eddie Munson x shy!Reader (reader is inexperienced)

Summary: you want a kiss, Eddie just wants you to voice your wants.

Warnings: shyness, overthinking, kissing.

You and Eddie had been dating for only 3 months. Having never been in a relationship before, or doing anything before, you were concerned it would turn Eddie away. Instead, Eddie took it in stride. He calmed your anxieties, comforted you during your insecurities, and explained anything you didn't know without making you feel dumb.

You two hadn't done much other than a quick kiss here and there. You weren't sure how to say it but...you wanted more. You wanted more than to just hold his hand. You wanted more than just his lips on yours. You wanted passion and fury and tongue and biting and-

You felt slightly shameful at all the thoughts and feelings you had. You also felt insecure, what if Eddie didn't feel the same? He had never pressured you to do more...maybe he didn't want to do more? Having never done anything before, you would be willing not to if that was the case. You loved Eddie for who he was. Except, you knew Eddie had done things with other people.

"Watcha thinking 'bout?" Eddie asked, jolting you from your thoughts. His brow slightly furrowed and a frown on his lips. He lightly places a palm against your cheek. He uses his thumb to take your bottom lip out from between your teeth, where you had been absentmindedly biting it. "No-nothing," you smile weakly at him, not looking him in the eyes.

Eddie hums before tilting his head to peer into your eyes. You return his gaze, getting lost in the warm brown. Eddie blinks, his long lashes fluttering (how infuriating that he was blessed with such long lashes and didn't even notice). You can't help your eyes darting down to his lips. Slightly chapped, but still full and soft. You can feel Eddie's fingers lightly tapping on your jaw as he thinks.

"You know I'll never judge you right?" Eddie asks, causing you to nod emphatically. "So," Eddie leans close to your ear and whispers," Ask me for what you want." You shiver as he lightly exhales into your ear and then nips at your ear lobe. He pulls back and gives you a pointed look. You fidget slightly, attempting to look down, but Eddie's hands on your jaw forces you to look at him.

"Kiss?" You quietly ask. Eddie's grin spreads across his face," Of course you can have a kiss. You only have to ask, and if I can give it to you I will." You grin back, happy that you'll be getting a kiss-

Except he kisses your forehead with a loud smack. "There!" Mischief twinkles in his eyes as you pout at him. "That's not..." you frown at him. "Oh? Not what?" Eddie goads you. "That's not where I wanted a kiss!" "Oh my mistake!" Eddie chuckles and-

Eddie kisses the tip of your nose. "Eddie!" You huff indignantly. "Just gotta ask," Eddie says saccharinely. "Just kiss me already!" You whine slightly. Eddie hums again and leans forward and kisses your cheek. You groan and attempt to push away from him slightly mumbling," kiss my ass."

Eddie gasps and throws one hand up to cover his mouth, " Why i do declare! Your ass!?" You blink a few times before smacking at him," That's not what I meant! I meant like that wasn't a kiss!" Eddie chuckles wrapping his arms around your waist, "You sure you don't want me to kiss your-" "I want a proper kiss Eddie Munson. On the lips. With tongue."

Eddie's eyes flash an emotion you aren't quite sure of. He licks his lips and nods," Ask and you shall receive." He leans in and finally kisses you properly. Your lips slot together perfectly. Warm and soft and everything you want from a kiss. Eddie deepens the kiss, pulling you flush against him, making you gasp. Your gasp allows Eddie to slide his tongue into your mouth.

His tongue slides against your tongue. What you thought would be weird actually feels amazing. Warm and wet and hot. It sends shivers down your spine and makes your fingers clench onto his shirt. You don't even realize the slight moan that you release, but Eddie does. Eddie who groans and has to stop himself from throwing you onto the bed and worshiping you. Eddie who is trying not to push you, but wants you to open up to him and voice your wants. Eddie who is trying pathetically to not grind into you as you shuffle closer to him. Eddie who slowly pulls back, leaving you both panting.

Eddie thinks his heart will burst with the love he feels for you in this moment. With your hooded eyes and swollen lips, the way you stare at him with utter adoration. He wants to capture this moment and save it forever.

Eddie gives you a final quick peck on the lips before smiling softly at you. "Just ask next time instead of overthinking and getting yourself riled up." You nod at Eddie's words as he pulls you back in for a hug. You'll have to voice your wants more. Maybe one day you'll ask to take this a step further, but for today you relish in the moment you two had.