#can you believe it's done?!?

[zzoguri]

good evening everyone... "of linked arms and bruised hearts (you are the reason i keep on going)" is finally DONE with its official parts </3 im just having ms. duckie read it just to see if the direction is alright and it will definitely be up some time this week </3

can you believe?!?!?! 71.1k IN TOTAL!?!?!?! (yes part 3 ended up being 24.6k words) literally still in shock with how much i've written tbh!!!

i guess cue the emotional post!!! (oh no!!! not the emotions!!!)

when i first started writing this fic, i had no idea what to expect from the pairing. literally the only thing i knew is that the boy i'm writing about will have that dream about reader LMFAO (iykyk!) and that the dynamic between the two characters will be very banter but still at its core sweet <3

the craziest thing is that this fic would have been for jacob or changmin. i was really deciding which would work out the most but my friend said that the scenes and dynamic i had in mind works best with changmin's personality. and with that, i finally started my silly outline!!!

oof... should i mention that the title originally wouldve been "of method acting and bantering (i'm so glad i found you)" like crazy!?!?! how did we come from that to the current title? well i only finalized it while writing the first half of the outline (which covers like the first two parts of the fic!)

i settled on linked arms and bruised hearts mainly because we know changmin as someone who likes to latch onto the members. the idea of bruised hearts came mainly from how i wrote reader </3 and it just works in tandem! i really think this new one holds more meaning is definitely representative of reader and changmin.

anyway, i should mention that this fic does hold a lot of pieces of me </3 like a lot of aspects or experiences came from what i experienced. there are a lot of little fun facts spread throughout the fic. if you ask me about them, i'd most definitely tell you </3

and most importantly, i like to think that this fic is more of a commemoration of the friendships i have rather than just some romance fic. although there are alot of sweet moments between reader and changmin (that are definitely romantic in nature and definitely some i never experienced), i wrote this fic really focusing on how much i just love friendships. i really think that writing friends to lovers without highlighting the importance of friendships overall would just be a disservice to the trope overall </3

this fic is very personal because it reflects a lot of aspects in my life </3 i'm really glad that i wrote 71.1k words worth of just genuine love and care stored in friendships !! and i'm glad that reader and changmin have each other !!

once again, i want to say thank you for loving this fic as much as i do T___T mainly would like to thank those on my taglist for the support as well <3 i've received some feedback just talking about how much they love the friendgroup or how nice it is to see that soulmates do exist between changmin and reader. it really does mean a lot because this fic took so much time and care to execute </3

of course, the universe is not officially closed since i plan to write the imagines/drabbles found on the series masterlist. and although it is not guaranteed when those will be out, just know that this specific universe will forever live in my heart.

part 3 will drop within the week <3 please look forward to it <3 thank you!!

[andthebeanstalk]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[bookshelfdreams]

yk when you see someone share a finished handmade item that they clearly spent a lot of time and money on and it's just. The absolute tackiest thing you have seen in your life. And then you ask yourself why someone would waste all those resources on such an eyesore.

(no, of course you can't relate to that because you're a much nicer person than me)

In any case.

BEHOLD!

A wool coat!

The top fabric is handwoven and handspun, the whole thing is sewn by hand, too.

Leftovers. Barely anything, all things considered, which is very satisfying.

This thing took me well over 3 years to make, on and off. And now I'm done.

Thank you for your attention.

[newttxt]

and thats a wrapppppppp!!

from the 10th and final chapter of utilities included

masterpost

[yourlocalabomination]

Time bastard, You got some place else to be?

[steddiejudas]

STWG Daily Drabble 11/29/23

prompt: modern au

Eddie is harshly woken by his phone ringing at— JESUS christ, 4:30 AM.

The number isn’t saved in his contacts, and normally he would just let it ring or hang up the call so he could go back to sleep, but his brain is a little fried so early in the morning so he answers it like a reflex.

“Hello?” he asks. He can hear the sleep in his own voice and hopes to god this call isn’t something important that his slow, rough voice will make him look bad for.

“Robin!!”

A very loud, very drunk voice screams the name Eddie doesn’t recognize into the line. He lacks the wherewithal to really sus out what’s happening, so he summons every ounce of intelligence to the best of his ability to mutter: “huh?”

“Robbie I’m so drunk and my phone died. The bartender let me use his to call you. come pick me up.”

The guy is whining directly into Eddie’s ear. it should be annoying, should be grating to his sleep-addled brain, but he can’t help but think he sounds cute.

“Uh, hey man, this isn’t Robin. I think you got the wrong number,” Eddie says.

The guy on the other end of the line goes silent, and Eddie imagines he’s pouting over there, probably too drunk to remember he needs to speak into the phone.

“Hey,” he says. “You okay? Are you going to be able to call this Robin person?”

“I did,” the guy whines again. “You’re not Robin.”

“No, I definitely am not. I’m Eddie. And who are you?”

“I’m Steve. Will you please come pick me up?”

He considers this, chuckling lightly to himself. This Steve sure is trusting. Eddie could be a murderer just waiting for a cute boy like Steve to call him up, and he says as much, but apparently all Steve hears is:

“You think I'm cute? Wait, how can you tell? Are you in the walls or something?”

Is he in the walls? Jesus this guy really is ass blasted, huh. And Eddie can’t leave a fellow bad late night decision maker to fend for himself, can he?

“You sound cute enough sweetheart. sit tight, I'll be there in 15 minutes.”

“mmkay!” Steve sounds purely elated to have Eddie on the way, and hangs up before he has the chance to confirm where he is. It’s no matter really, there’s only one bar in the area that’s open this late, and it seems the bartender picked up on that lacking piece of information as his phone pings with a location pin a minute later.

It’s one of Eddie’s usual haunts so he gets there in 10, familiar with the route and aided by the complete lack of traffic at this hour.

He wonders if in the last 10 minutes Steve has forgotten all about him. He is just a stranger he drunk dialed after all, and Steve’s so far gone his short term memory must be nothing at this point.

But when he pulls up and enters the building, he sees the most beautiful face he’s ever seen alone at the bar. He hopes to any god that will listen that Steve at least remembers his enthusiasm about getting home so he can see the way that elation shows on his handsome features. The bartender who’s been babysitting, and appears to be forcing him to drink water, points to the door and Steve turns around, his face alighting with all the brilliance of precious gemstones.

“Eddie!” He shouts, throwing himself off the stool to stumble over to him. He nearly falls to the ground, but Eddie is there to hold him up.

Their faces are inches apart, and Eddie can’t help but notice the way his drunkenness flushes his cheeks, giving the scattering of moles across his cheeks a beautiful backdrop.

“Hey pretty boy. Let’s get you home, okay? Where do you live?”

“With Robin,” Steve says, his face betraying the fact that he really thinks that’s the answer Eddie needs.

“Mhm,” Eddie patiently hums. “And where does Robin live?”

“With me, silly.”

“Oh boy, you’re really out of it. Why don’t I take you back to my place, get some food in you, charge up your phone, and we’ll go from there.”

“Is food the only thing I'll get in me?” Steve asks, pressing in closer to Eddie’s grasp.

It startles a laugh out of him. One that starts deep in his chest and rolls through his body, throwing his head back and shaking his shoulders.

“Steve, you barely know me. You’re just lucky I happen to be a very nice, very respectful guy, who is going to

feed you and nothing. else.”

Steve pouts a little as Eddie puts an arm around his waist and pulls him out to the car, loading him in the passenger seat and buckling him in.

It seems Steve has zoned out on the ride, either lulled by the movements or, god forbid, incredibly carsick. Either way he sits in silence with his face pressed against the cool glass while Eddie lets him be alone with his thoughts for the short drive home.

Getting up the stairs to Eddie’s apartment is a challenge. It’s like Steve is doing his absolute best to go ass over tea kettle down them. Eddie braces himself behind him, hands on his waist to keep him steady, trying his absolute darndest to ignore the lines of hard muscle under his sweater.

Now is NOT the time.

They make it inside with little incident, Eddie plopping Steve down on the couch to disappear into the kitchen after fishing Steve’s phone out of his pocket and plugging it in next to him.

“So, I’m not much of a cook,” Eddie hollers. “But how do you feel about grilled cheese?”

No answer comes.

“Steve?”

Nothing.

Eddie peeks out of the kitchen to find a snoring Steve, sprawled out on the couch like a starfish. Somehow he’s even cuter like this. It brings a fond smile to Eddie’s face as he covers him in a blanket, tucks a pillow under his head and leaves a trash can by his side just in case.

It’s almost 5:30 now, and the exhaustion hits him all at once. Eddie gives the man sawing logs on his couch one last once over before going back to his own bed and crashing, hoping for at least another hour or two of sleep.

When he wakes, it’s with an unexpected sense of excitement, expecting Steve to be on his couch ready to have a coherent conversation and a real introduction, but when he makes his way out to the living room, Steve is gone, his pillow stacked on top of the neatly folded blanket.

He shouldn’t be sad about this. Steve is, after all, just a stranger who was drunk and couldn’t even remember his own address. He was probably embarrassed, confused, hell maybe even scared to be waking up in a stranger’s house with vague memories of how he got there. He tries to focus on that aspect of the situation, rather than his own disappointment. He does not succeed.

Eddie sits down on the couch, in the very same spot Steve laid his head the night before and wraps himself up in the blanket. He buries his face in it, inhaling the faint scent Steve left on it and wonders why he even cares. It wasn’t as if they had some big whirlwind romance in the span of the hour they were together; but Steve was so sweet, so cute, so excited to see him after speaking on the phone for just a couple minutes. It wasn’t anything more than a random act of kindness, but maybe Eddie wanted it to be.

It’s as Eddie is thinking it over that his phone pings with a message. Eddie groans, it’s probably just Gareth, or maybe the bartender from last night checking that everyone is safe. Though even that is wishful thinking. He checks anyway, trying his best to tamp down any wishful thinking until he sees the unknown number on his screen with one simple word.

[463-291-8275]: Thanks.

Eddie feels a lump in his throat, his chest filling up like a balloon. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say, doesn’t even know if it is Steve, but shit he fucking hopes so.

[Eddie]: Steve? How did you get my number again?

[463-291-8275]: Uhhh… i definitely didn’t try like 10 variations of Robin’s phone number to find the one number i mistyped when i accidentally called you last night

Eddie frantically adds the number to his contacts before texting back, thanking whatever powers that be for giving him another shot.

[Eddie]: Wow I must have left quite the impression on you Stevie 😏

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: you could say that

Eddie smirks to himself, trying to ignore the blush that warms his face at Steve’s words. He tries to come up with what to say next, how to segue into asking him out on a date, but before he can, his phone buzzes with more messages from Steve.

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: so i know this might seem a little strange since we barely talked before i passed out in a drunk heap on your couch

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: thanks for not killing me btw

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: but um would you maybe want to hang out sometime?

Eddie jumps up from the couch, pumping his fist in the air like he just won the lottery. then, like he’s just remembering he lives alone, he yells at no one in particular: “FUCK! YES!” There’s an angry knock on the wall from his neighbor, but he doesn’t care in the slightest.

[Eddie]: idk about that Stevie

He goes to reply in his typical teasing fashion, but Steve’s reply comes in immediately before he can finish the thought.

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i totally get it

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: last night was probably weird for you

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: feel free to block my number i’m so sorry

[Eddie]: Woah, slow your roll there big boy!

[Eddie]: I said I'm not so sure about hanging out with you.

[Eddie]: But only because I’d rather take you out on a date

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: Oh!

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: date! yes! date is good

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i’d love to go on a date!

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: better even

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i was fighting demons trying not to kiss you in the car last night

Eddie has to set his phone down so he doesn’t throw it to the ground and shatter it, opting instead to fist his hands in the pillow Steve used last night and shove it in his face to scream. He has to regain his composure before he texts back, doing his best to keep cool.

[Eddie]: A date it is then. Can’t wait sweetheart ❤️

[a2zillustration]

Would anyone ELSE like to admit they've been personally victimized by the god or goddess they follow?

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[orange-coloredsky]

a development team that looks like this could not possibly have any preconceived biases against Black people. noooo way. its just a mistake that all of the Black people in fo4 are slaves or named after fascist colonizers or murdered or stereotypical conspiracy freaks. there is no way that the reality of this team is reflected in the art they create over and over and over and over and over and over and

[ID 1: A photo of the Fallout 4 development team taken from above and forward, showing a large crowd smiling at the camera, made up apparently entirely by white people, and almost entirely by white men. End ID.]

[cuubism]

I didn't even share any exterior shots with you all. Failure.

Go to the New Inn it only takes an hour and a half to get to from central London 😂

Can't miss it the sign is painted on like 50 times, presumably so Dream would DEFINITELY find it.

No WAY Dream can miss this. Well, maybe he can, he can be a bit dense at times.

THE NEW INN! TOP LONDON ATTRACTION! (in my heart)

[swift-kwikster]

A comic about Sam and Max being trans guys, taking place at Sam's old job as a stewardess before he transitioned. Being that it's Sam & Max, weird ridiculous hijinks ensure.

So... After two years of working on this on and off, it's finished! I had posted pages as I was making them on here before but those posts are no longer on my blog- I actually redid most of the pages with new jokes and panels, and fixed a lot. I'm really proud of how far this has come. :)

Please reblog if you can if you like it, so more can see it! It'd mean so much! Thank you. <3

[cairafea]

he makes this joke every time.

[hindahoney]

So many of you are genuinely monsters and you think you're the heroes. Forgive me for not believing that any of you ever actually gave a shit about Palestinians, as you sit here in your pro-hamas rallies with swastika flags while you chant "gas the jews!" and tear down posters of kidnapped hostages. You glorify Hamas, the terrorist organization that uses and abuses Palestinians, that shoots them if they try to evacuate from zones that Israel has warned they're going to strike.

You have been silent for decades while Lebanon and Jordan keep their Palestinian population in refugee camps. You have been silent when no other neighboring country has given Palestinians citizenship status that would enable them to live a comfortable, normal life. You were silent when Palestinian Islamic Jihad and Hamas rockets misfire and kill innocent Palestinians. You were silent when Hamas steals aid meant for civilians. You were silent when Hamas dug up water pipes from the ground so that they could make more rockets.

If you were silent then, you're using Palestinians as a mask for your Jew-hatred. If you want to really advocate for Palestinians, keep the same energy for every country, not just the only Jewish state, and try to educate yourself on what Israelis have been doing to try to help Palestinians, because I promise you it's way more than you've ever done in your life.

[bhramarii]

THE PROPHET // THE SAINT

[izacore]

“This was the kiss he'd been waiting for. It was...

[buwheal]

Unexpected but fair.

How long were we disconnected?

[floralcrematorium]

Happy Valentine's Day from The Women Of All Time

@femslashetalia