red-revival · 2 days ago
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Pristine cut Fury is hitting everything I love about body horror and it's hitting hard... I'm gonna go on a long ramble below the cut. Not only did this update give us so much more wonderful gore, it also goes into the more psychological and emotional side of body horror that I love so much.
I'm so happy this exists, and that I get to see the same feelings I have about body horror in someone elses work. This is beautiful.
I got obsessed with body horror after developing several chronic illnesses one after the other. It was therapeutic. This new side to the Fury is perfectly reflecting everything I love about body horror.
Like yeah there's the gore and blood. But there's also the fear of losing the people you love because you can't recognize them or they cant recognize you anymore. There's the loss of autonomy and having your own will, living a life you can't escape because you weren't given a choice. There's the identity crisis, not knowing who you are without some kind of pain or complication. There's the ways that warps you and how you see yourself, how abuse and being trapped and hurt not only changes your mind but the constant living in survival mode physically warps your body.
Chronic fatigue and pain can develop because of trauma. It turns out spending years in survival mode with almost no chances to properly rest causes damage to your body, sometimes to your individual cells. Sometimes you don't ever recover from that damage.
And then there's the choosing to accept it. Coming to terms with being different, with having to live a different life that's not the one you were looking forward to. Accepting that you've changed, and the people around you have changed, and that the change is part of living. Accepting that you can't do what you used to be able to anymore. Accepting that you're nothing like the you that you recognize, and that maybe thats ok.
Moving on from the life you wanted and learning to live with what you are now.
Seeing all of these reflected in both the princess and the long quiet felt like being told I wasn't alone anymore. Like being really seen and understood for the first time since my health spiralled.
There are people like me, just as lost and trapped in their bodies as I am, just as traumatized by their health. Enough people like me, like us, that these thoughts and emotions are reflected back sometimes.
And the chapter ends like it always does. When everything is quiet again, you go to wipe the mirror clean. This time, it doesn't disappear.
This time, you can finally see your reflection staring back at you. You've grown.
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outsidersandlostboys · 3 days ago
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The Lost Boys Dating headcanons:
(These are personally what I think they’d be like but lmk if these characters are wrong because I can’t write in character for shit 🥲👍)
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David would turn away when he exhales the smoke from his cigarette so it doesn’t cause you to cough.
Cuddle pile. Consisting of David reluctantly joining, Dwayne being the most considerate of your space, Marko holding your waist and Paul being Paul.
Paul or Marko sneaking you gummies. Not just any gummies. Those gummies. Of course till they notice them setting in. Or David finds out about it and then has both of the vampire’s asses for it.
Each of the boys would be different trip sitters. David would probably not be the best, as he’d probably tell you your hands are purple or something like that to mess with you. Dwayne is dependant, he’d probably be a little cautious at times, but I feel like he’d also toy with you and joke around lots. Paul would also get high with you so you wouldn’t feel alone. Marko would probably have to take over for Paul. (This happens more than occasionally.)
Paul is more touch driven. Marko is acts of service. Dwayne is quality time. David is words of affirmation.
Their kisses taste different but also the same. Dwayne and Marko will definitely taste like candy or blood. Or Marko and Paul will definitely have the taste of weed in their mouth. David will most likely have some bit of alcohol or nicotine on his breath, or also blood.
Will definitely need you to clean out the stains in their clothes with cold water. You’ll probably go through 40 detergent bottles.
The boys will probably have long nails. Claws more like. If you can paint nails, they’ll ask. Paul and Marko would be immensely intrigued (yes Paul would get a hello kitty stickler on his nails)
David would only let you paint his nails black or white or purple
Dwayne doesn’t care about nail colour, he will however flaunt the shit out of your work. “Oh you like my nails? Well my partner did them for me.”
I honestly think that Paul would have you trying random stuff with them. Like mixing drinks. He’d make you try anything. Even if it is just straight rum.
Marko would let you add more stuff to his jacket. Or let you stick pencils and stuff into his curls.
David won’t let you touch his hair, but he will definitely touch yours. He’ll even try braiding it. Though if you want anything proper then Dwayne or Paul are the true hair stylists to go to
They’d be caring, but also annoying, and clingy. And of course protective and defensive
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
I couldn’t think of much sorry!
I’ve been so busy and tbh the real mvp here is you and also my sleeping partner next to me. (He’s dealing with the light from my phone lol)
I hope to write more, and tbh I really do love this movie. Cry little sister is an amazing song.
Anywho! Happy early Halloween! Stay safe and I hope you all have fun in your costumes!
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sequinsmile-x · 2 days ago
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Hide Beside Me
Emily shares her oldest secret with Aaron. A few years later, that secret resurfaces.
Part 2/3 (Part 1 can be found here)
-x-
Hi besties <3
Thanks so much for all the love on part 1 - really blown away by it. As always, I got carried away and because of all the detail I wanted to add to this fic to do it justice, this is now a 3 parter instead of a 2 parter!!
Part 3 will be up later in the week.
As always, please let me know what you think!
-x-
Warnings: pregnancy, teen pregnancy, abortion, adoption, forced adoption
Words: 3.9k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
She’d never truly let herself imagine it. 
Over the years, there had been fleeting moments when it would happen, when her subconscious would torment her with a brief flash of hope that one day she’d be reunited with the daughter she’d never been allowed to know. She’d always shake it off, try and rid herself of the thought that felt nothing but impossible, sure that even if she got the chance to know her oldest child she wouldn’t want to know her in return. The last thing Emily ever wanted was to cause her any pain, to do anything other than love her in the few minutes she’d been allowed a lifetime ago. 
She’d never pictured this. Had never thought she’d be the one who was sought out, and she’d certainly never pictured herself standing on the porch of her home, her infant son on her hip and her other two children inside getting ready for school as Sophia stood a few feet away from her. 
Rebecca. Her name was Rebecca. 
Emily can’t speak, rendered speechless for the first time in a long time. She feels like she’s underwater, her grip on Issac the only thing she’s aware of other than her heartbeat pounding in her head, the rhythm of it echoing around her skull, getting faster with each breath as nausea rolls in her gut. She sucks in a breath, desperate to say something, anything, so she doesn’t just continue to stare at the woman standing opposite her. 
At her daughter.
She opens her mouth, but she’s cut off by the door opening behind her and a tiny hand tugging on the leg of her pants. 
“I ready Mama.” 
She looks down at Rose, and she sees Rebecca do the same, her shoulders getting visibly tighter as she watches the interaction between the two of them. Emily smiles at the toddler, grateful that she’s too young to see the tension in it and she tugs gently at one of her braids, “Go find Jack, okay?” She says, ignoring the slight shake to her voice, “Make sure he’s ready for me?” 
Rose looks back and forth between Emily and Rebecca and tilts her head, her endless curiosity almost getting the better of her, her favourite word - why - on the tip of her tongue before Emily distracts her with another tug of her braid. Rose nods and turns back into the house, “Okay, Mama.” 
The moment Emily and Rebecca are alone again with Issac, the baby happy and content as he always was in his mother’s arms, the other woman clears her throat, drawing Emily’s attention to her. 
“I’m sorry,” she says, choking on the words as she shakes her head at herself, her hands tightly clasped in front of her, beads of blood visible on her cuticles from where she’d torn at them with her teeth, “I shouldn’t have come.”
When she turns her back, Emily’s brain finally kicks into gear, the shock she’d been overwhelmed by disappearing in an instant as she realises she might lose the chance she’d been waiting for more than half her life. 
“Wait,” she says, stepping forward, her heart in her throat, a lump she can’t swallow past as Rebecca turns to look at her, dark eyes meeting dark eyes, “Please don’t go. I’m sorry…I…I just wasn’t expecting to see you.” 
A smile flashes across Rebecca’s face and she crosses her arms over her chest, physically holding herself together, “What, you weren’t expecting your long lost kid to show up randomly on a Thursday morning?” 
It makes Emily laugh, the kind of bluntness that Aaron would always say was all her if Jack or Rose were ever guilty of it, “Something like that,” she says, reaching into her pocket, grateful that she had some of her business cards to hand as she pulls one out and hands it to Rebecca, her chest tight as their fingers skip across each other. The first touch between mother and daughter in 30 years. Both of them had been children last time, and neither of them had any say in the separation that had driven them to this awkward conversation on the porch of Emily’s family home, “Please take this, and call me? Or at least text me so I have your number. It’s my personal line. I need to get the kids to school…” she drifts off, cursing herself for mentioning the children when Rebecca’s smile gets tighter, “We deserve more time to talk about everything than 5 minutes.” 
Rebecca nods and looks at the card in her hand before she slips it into her jeans, “Okay, I’ll call you. I promise,” she looks lost for a moment, unsure if she should step forward for a hug or not, but she stops herself, her hands once again in a tight grasp in front of her, “I’ll leave you to it.” 
“Okay,” Emily says, “Speak to you soon, Rebecca.” she swallows thickly, her daughter’s actual name heavy and foreign on her tongue. 
Rebecca flashes a smile and nods, “Speak soon, Emily.”
She stands frozen in place as she watches Rebecca leave, unaware that she’s tightened her hold on Issac until he cries out, his eyebrows furrowed as she looks down at him, “Oh I’m sorry baby,” she says, kissing his forehead, letting her eye’s drift shut as she breathes him in, the sweet smell of his shampoo calming her down, “Mommy is so sorry.” 
Her brief moment of peace with her son is gone as soon as she realises it’s the same thing she’d said to Sophia - Rebecca -  the first, and only time, she’d held her. An apology whispered against her skin along with the name that had never gone any further than the two of them until she told Aaron about her. 
“Mom,” Jack says, calling from inside the house, “We’re going to be late.” 
She blows out a slow breath and wipes stray tears from her cheeks, stamping another kiss against Issac’s forehead before she walks into the house, “Coming, honey.” 
She somehow manages to get Jack to school on time and Rose is only marginally late for daycare. She’s about to drop off Issac too, but when he grips onto her shirt, his clinginess with her something that had been established since he was born. Tiny and screaming and only calm when he was in her arms or against her chest.  Every time she brought him to daycare on the days she worked he’d do this. He’d grasp the neckline of her shirt and cry, and she’d have to hand him over, assured by the workers that he always calmed down shortly after she left. It was something she was used to, something her heart had learned to take, but today it can’t. She can’t. It feels like his small hand is wrapped around her heart, his tiny sharp nails puncturing it as she finds herself unable to hand her baby over.
As soon as they are back in her car she calls her boss, and says she can’t come in today. A white lie about Issac having a cold that makes her feel guilty is accepted without comment. Her next call is to Aaron. She wants to talk to him, needs to talk to him, and she feels tears pressing at the back of her eyes the moment he answers. 
“Hi,” he says, his voice light and soft like it always was with her, and she can picture his smile, “Everything okay?” 
She sucks in a breath, her grip on the steering wheel tight, “Can you come home?” 
It’s a simple question, but one she’d never asked of him before, and it makes him panic. She can hear it in the intake of his breath, in the way she can hear his chair scrape on the floor, “Emily, are you okay? Are the kids okay?” 
“Yeah, they’re fine,” she says, swallowing thickly, “I promise. I…” she drifts off, unsure how to say it, the words stuck in her throat.
“Sweetheart, I’m coming home okay,” he assures her, fulfilling her request without having to think twice, “But I need to know that you’re okay.” 
She chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “She found me. She…she showed up at the house this morning.”
“Who did?”
She wipes tears from her cheeks and clears her throat, “Sophia.” 
There’s a gasp on the other end of the line followed by a brief moment of silence, “I’ll meet you at home as soon as I can, okay?” He asks, and she nods even though he can’t see her, “Want me to stay on the line with you until I get there?” 
She lets out a shaky laugh, “No, it’s okay,” she says, “I just…need to see you.” 
“I’m leaving the office now,” he replies, and she can hear the elevator, “I’ll use the blue lights and everything,” he jokes, desperate to do what he can for her until he makes it to her side. 
She presses her lips together to control a smile, unsure if it is inappropriate or not, her emotions in turmoil as she shifts between them all in quick succession, “I love you.” 
“I love you too,” he replies, “Em…she found you.” 
“Yeah,” she says, her chest aching at the awe in his voice, the way he loved her and her story a comfort she’d never get enough of, “She found me.”
___
He finds her in the living room with Issac fast asleep in her arms, his cheek pressed against her chest, a small patch of drool visible on her blouse that Aaron knew cost more than most people made in a month. She’s staring straight ahead, her eyes wide but seeing nothing as her hand drifts idly up and down their infant son’s back, a movement that is more for her than the fast asleep Issac. 
“Sweetheart?” Aaron asks, careful to make sure he’s quiet, not wanting to wake up the baby or startle Emily. She turns to look at him, the brief look of confusion on her face enough to let him know she hadn’t heard his car pull up on the driveway, or the front door open. He looks at Issac, “Is he okay?” 
She nods, taking a moment to kiss her son’s dark hair, “He’s okay. I couldn’t bring myself to hand him over at daycare,” she says, her smile sad as she rests her cheek on top of the baby’s head, “Rose ran into her classroom like she always does. Happy to be there and excited to spend the day with her friends. But Zac…he…” 
“Held onto you and cried like he always does,” he finishes for her, and she nods again, swallowing thickly, tears pressing at the back of her eyes now he was here, now she no longer had to hold herself up all alone.
“I couldn’t let go of him,” she says, tightening her hold on Issac as if someone would take him, phantoms of her past who had once taken her baby from her breathing down her neck, the scent of the lady from the adoption agency’s perfume something she’d never been able to forget, “I just couldn’t.”
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he assures her, still standing a few paces away from the couch, unsure how to approach this, how to look after her on the day the daughter she’d been forced to give up three decades ago had reappeared. “What can I do?” 
She looks up at him, her chin trembling as she asks for the support she had lived without for most of her life, “A hug would be a good place to start.” 
She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He’s on the couch with his arms around her in seconds, gathering her and Issac carefully against him. She’s crying the moment she’s safe in his embrace, her neck twisting at a slightly awkward angle so she doesn’t disturb Issac as she presses her face into Aaron’s neck. Desperate to fill her lungs with the scent of him, to replace the sickly sweet perfume she can smell even though she knows it’s not real with his woodsy cologne. 
“I’ve got you, Em,” he says, his hand hooked around the back of her head as he holds her in place, scratching at her scalp with his blunt nails, “I’m right here.” 
She cries for herself. For the 45 year old she was now who had spent decades wondering what her child looked like, mourning every birthday and graduation and Christmas she’d missed. For the 15-year-old who was forced into a situation she didn’t want twice - first keeping the pregnancy, and then having no choice but to give her baby up after she’d had 9 months to fall in love with her, every kick and elbow to the ribs a moment no one could take from her. 
She cries for Sophia. Rebecca. And she hopes she’s had a good life, that any conversations they have leave her assured the right decision had been made for her little girl even if it hadn’t been the right decision for her. 
Eventually, she calms down, her tears coming to a stop, Aaron’s embrace and his gently, soothing scratching of her scalp still going until she pulls back to look at him, her eyes still shining. Bright red and swollen with the make-up she’d put on that morning smudged around them. 
“I didn’t recognise her,” she says, her words painful and stuck in her chest as she hiccups around them. 
He tucks her hair behind her ear and wipes her tears from her cheeks, “What do you mean, baby?” 
She sniffs and shakes her head at herself, “When I answered the door, I didn’t recognise her at first. I asked who she was…my own kid. I didn’t recognise my own kid.”
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Hadn’t been able to get past the fact she hadn’t known who Rebecca was at first. It hurt. Made her doubt herself and her skills as a mother, every fantasy she had ever allowed herself that they’d know each other immediately torn to pieces in a moment. 
“Emily,” he says, wiping another tear from her cheek, “The last time you saw her she was minutes old. She’s, what, 30 now?” 
“30 years, 4 months and 3 weeks old,” Emily confirms, the date her daughter had been born one of the only bits of information she’d ever had about her so she’d held onto it tightly. 
“Exactly,” he says, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, “It’s not surprising it took you a minute,” he assures her, “And it certainly doesn’t make you a bad mother.” 
She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her throat, “Sometimes I swear you actually can read my mind.” 
He smiles, “No, I just happen to know my wife really well,” he says, kissing her forehead again before he pulls back to look at her, “What’s her name?” 
It reminds her of the very first conversation they’d had about Sophia. When she’d been terrified of telling him her oldest secret but he’d done what he always had - loved her unconditionally. His understanding of her so deep, as natural to him as breathing, that sometimes she wondered if he knew her better than he knew herself. 
“Rebecca,” she says, smiling as she says her name outloud, an answer to a question she’d had for so long, “Her name is Rebecca,” she looks down at Issac and kisses the top of his head, her smile soft and sad, “She’s beautiful.” 
“Of course she is,” Aaron says immediately, his eyes shining when she looks up at him, “She came from you.” 
She laughs and shakes her head at him, “How do you always do that?” 
“Do what?” He asks, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her, to provide the comfort he’d always give away for free. 
“Make me laugh on the hard days.” 
He leans in to kiss her, catching the corner of her lips and then her nose, “Because I love you,” he answers, “How did you leave things with her?” 
“I gave her my card. I told her to call me, she’s already sent me a text so I have her number,” she laughs disbelievingly, wondering how her world had changed so much in the space of a couple of hours, “I have Sophia’s number, Aaron,” she shakes her head at herself, “Rebecca,” she corrects, “That’s going to take some getting used to.” 
“It’s okay if she’s still Sophia in here,” he says, his finger gentle as he presses against her chest, hovering over the patch of drool from Issac’s open mouth just above her heart, “She has been for a long time.” 
She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “When I…when I meet up with her, can you come with me?” She asks, “I know it might be complicated because of work if you get a case, and I understand if you can’t-”
“Sweetheart,” he says, cutting her off, smiling softly at her, “There is nothing that would stop me being there for you, okay? You and the kids are the most important thing to me. No matter what.” 
She rests her head on his shoulder and sinks into his side, “I can’t believe this is happening,” she murmurs, “It feels like a dream.” 
He wraps his arm around her shoulders to keep her in place against him and kisses her temple, “It’s happening, Em,” he says, tears making his vision blurry because of how happy he is for her, “It’s really happening.” ___
She was exhausted, but happy. 
Labour had been worse than she’d remembered. The pain something that time and Mother Nature had erased from her memory. 
Her labour with Rose was the opposite of her labour with Sophia. Last time, she’d been alone the entire time, no one with her but medical staff who drifted in and out of the room for hours. Aaron had stayed by her side for every single second of her labour with Rose, providing both the physical and emotional support she needed, anticipating her needs before she even knew what they were. She’d encouraged him to go home with Jack, her smile soft as she told him that she and Rose would be okay, that he was exhausted and needed to sleep in their bed and not the tiny bed the nurses had rolled in for him. 
He’d left reluctantly, kissing both her and Rose’s foreheads before he went home, a promise that he’d be back in the morning pressed against her skin. 
“Okay, sweet girl,” she says, wincing as she pushes herself off the hospital bed and walks slowly the very short distance to the bassinet, “Let’s see if we can get this feeding thing down…” She fades off when she sees the bassinet is empty, the blanket Rose had been swaddled in left behind. She sucks in a breath, looking around the room in a panic, “Rose?” It’s ridiculous and she knows it, knows that her 4-hour-old couldn’t respond, but she says it anyway, the discomfort she’d been in before gone in an instant as she tears around the room, looking for her little girl, “Rose?”
She stops in place when she smells something familiar, a sickly sweet perfume that has always turned her stomach. A smell that meant loss and pain and she gasps, her hand over her mouth as she cries out again.
“Rose.” 
___
She gasps as she wakes up, Aaron’s arm slipping from her waist as she sits up, her hand pressed against her chest as she tries to even out her breathing, desperate to shake off the remnants of an old nightmare she hadn’t had in a while but that had haunted her most nights when Rose and Issac were both newborns. 
She’s on her feet before she can think about it, grabbing Aaron’s robe from the back of the door on her way past and slipping it on, the smell of him still clinging to the soft flannel material. She sneaks down the hallway towards Rose’s bedroom, careful to make sure she’s quiet as she walks past the nursery so she doesn’t wake up Issac. She’s gentle as she pushes open Rose’s door, which had already been slightly ajar anyway in case she wanted to seek out her parents in the night, and Emily blows out a slow breath when she sees her little girl fast asleep in her bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her favourite toy - a stuffed orca whale Jessica had bought her from the aquarium - her sweet face lit up by the nightlight in the corner of the room. 
Emily closes her eyes and tries to even out her breathing, her hand against her chest as she does so. She hears the door to the master bedroom open and she turns to look, her lips pressed together in a tight smile when she looks at her husband, “Hi.” 
“Hi,” he says, walking over to her, his arms immediately wrapping around her from behind, tugging her close, his lips pressed against her covered shoulder, “Did you have the nightmare?” 
She hums and nods, turning her head to kiss his cheek, “I did.” 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 
“I should have expected it,” she says, looking back at Rose, checking on her one more time before she lets the door close again, stopping it before it clicks into place, “I don’t know why I didn’t,” she links her arm through his as they walk back to their bedroom, “I am happy she reached out,” she says, “I really am, but…” 
“Em,” he says, stopping her, his hands at her elbows, “I know you are. I know you’re happy, but you’re allowed to have mixed feelings about it. It’s a lot to deal with.” 
She nods and chuckles dryly, “It is,” she shakes her head, “What if she doesn’t like me?” She asks, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the thought that felt childish, like she was still the teenager who had been in this situation in the first place. 
“It’s impossible not to like you,” he replies, his hands slipping to her hips, “Everyone loves you the moment they meet you.” 
She raises her eyebrow at him, “You didn’t.” 
He shakes his head at her, “Sweetheart-”
“You can deny it all you want, baby,” she says, patting his cheek before she shrugs off his robe and climbs into bed, “But we both know you didn’t like me.” 
“I was just taken aback by your beauty,” he says, smiling when she rolls her eyes at him as he joins her in bed, pulling her against his side, “I was projecting because I felt guilty about finding a woman who wasn’t my wife attractive.” 
She hums, resting her head on his shoulder and hooking her leg over his hips, “I’ll believe you. Thousands wouldn’t.” 
He smiles and kisses the top of her head, “Everything will okay, Em.” 
She nods, wanting more than anything to believe him, that this would somehow turn out to be everything she’d never allowed herself to believe it could be, “Yeah,” she says, snuggling in closer, “Everything will be okay.” 
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chillinglyadventurous · 1 day ago
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Say Don’t Go
Strike a match, then you blow it out.
My first installation of the A Playlist of Fics collab with @ford-pines-lover! I hope you enjoy.
Word count: 2,256
Tags: SFW, unrequited love, hurt
Stanford Pines x Reader
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Why’d you have to make me want you?
“[Y/N]!” Ford called as he stormed into the lab. His face was flushed and that smile on his face was contagious. His chest heaved as he came to rest in front of you. “Look what I did!”
You gasped as he held out a bundle of red flowers with too many thorns. They were some cross between a rose and a carnation, absolutely stunning. Your breath caught in your throat as you leaned down to smell the flowers in his hand. The scent was intoxicating, causing your pupils to dilate.
You met your best friend’s eyes and yours were full of admiration. “What are these?”
You were awestruck. He looked so proud of himself, so beautiful with the flush across his nose. You had always felt this way about him. This feeling in the pit of your stomach only grew every time he did something like this. He was a man of grand gestures. He was always doing something to put a smile on your face.
“I grew them myself,” he beamed. His eyes were alight with something between pride and the same adoration reflecting in yours. “You see, I remembered how much you love roses and carnations. So, in an attempt to master botany, I crossbred them.” He squeezed your shoulder when he noticed the happy tears pricking your eyes. “Please tell me you like them.”
Your fingers brushed over the petals, mindful of the thorns. Each blossom was more beautiful than the last, but all you could see was him. This wasn’t the same stoic Stanford you had followed to Gravity Falls. At that moment, he was full of life and excitement. He wasn’t obsessing over the portal he and Fiddleford were building. He was just wanting to do something nice for you.
Your voice got caught up in your throat as he stared at you expectantly, “They’re stunning, Ford. Really, they are.” His smile was reward enough, butterflies congregating in your abdomen. “Did you do this just for me?”
“I know it may seem a bit silly,” he muttered as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of embarrassment in his tone, “but I wanted to do something special for you.”
His gaze on you softened and was replaced by something akin to love, but you weren’t quite sure. All you knew was the way he looked at you made your heart ache in the best way, so you held the flowers a bit closer to your chest. Those feelings you had pushed down in college came bubbling up. Oh, you wanted him, wanted to grow old with him.
Why’d you have to give me nothing back?
It wasn’t long before something else caught his attention, par for the course. Once again, he was absorbed, lost in the inter dimensional portal in the basement. You watched him from the doorway with three mugs of coffee on the tray in your hand. You watched intently as he tinkered with components, muttering to himself under his breath.
He hadn’t spoken to you in days, completely wrapped up in that portal again. He had been so focused, concentration etched into his face every time you saw him, even as he fell asleep in the lab. This captivating had been what drew you in at the beginning. You adored how passionate he was about his work. This time, however, you felt like an outsider to his world and he wouldn’t invite you in.
“Hey, guys,” you forced a smile on your face, your voice a forced chipper, “how about a coffee break?”
Fiddleford was the only one who acknowledged your presence, flipping up his welding mask with a wide grin, but your eyes were still on Ford who pushed the vase of wilting flowers he gave you out of his way to grab another tool.
You stared at the dying flowers and were reminded of the warmth fading from your heart. With each nudge to get them out of his way, Ford glared at the flowers in frustration, wondering why they were even there, taking up valuable space.
Fiddleford caught your attention with a quiet cough as he gestured toward the stairs and began to ascend. You followed, looking over your shoulder to see if Ford would even notice you leave. Your tray was abandoned.
Once up the stairs and out of ear shot, Fiddleford spoke, “[Y/N], I think it’s time we talk about Ford.” His voice was hesitant as he spoke. It was like he was trying to find the words he needed to get out. He looked concerned. “Have you noticed him actin’ different lately? I mean, gettin’ more caught up in his work than usual?”
“I mean,” you sighed, “he has been more distant lately.”
Fiddleford shook his head, expression coated in worry. “He’s been goin’ into these strange trances. Sometimes, he’s just standin’ there, talking to himself. I can’t make sense of any of it.” He placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you eyes from wandering. “It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot, but it ain’t him in control, ya know?”
A chill crept down your spine. You wanted to believe it was just Ford’s intense concentration. He could often tune out the world no matter what was going on, but the look in Fiddleford’s eyes was genuine. “Well, he doesn’t sleep well. Maybe he’s just sleep deprived.”
“It gets stranger,” he continued. “I think he’s working with someone, or something. He keeps talkin’ to himself. Every time I ask what’s going on, he just brushes it off, sayin’ ‘Nothing to worry about,’ but there’s something in his eyes. It’s like they change color. Then, he starts actin’ all weird.”
You nodded because you weren’t sure what else to do. You weren’t sure how to respond. “Do you think he’s in danger? What do we do?”
“I think you should talk to him, [Y/N]. He won’t listen to me.” Fiddleford squeezed your shoulder, seeing the horror in your eyes, “Just don’t expect him to be okay with whatever you tell him.”
So, you made your way back to the lab, catching Ford’s attention by placing your hand over his. His brow was furrowed when he looked up at you, obviously irritated that you had the haul to interrupt him. “Can we talk?”
“No,” he said flatly, shoving your hand away so he could get better leverage on his wrench. You stayed put and blocked his light. “I don’t have time for this right now! Just get out of my way. If you’re not going to help, leave me alone.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. What was wrong with him? Why was he being so hot and cold all of a sudden? “Hey, I am trying to help you.”
“No you’re not!” He shouted back, a blatant over reaction to your soft words. “You’re always in the way. Just go!”
Why’d you have to make me love you?
“I wanted to apologize,” Ford sighed, standing outside your house.
Leaning in the doorway, you stared at him. He had that smile on his face that made you go weak in the knees, bundled up in a sweater and trench coat in the snow. His cheeks were dusted pink from the wind and cold. He watched you expectantly with his hands deep in his pockets, hoping you’d let him in.
You stood to the side and let him slip in. When you shut the door, he began to blow on his hands to try and warm them up. “Do you want coffee or hot chocolate? It’s freezing out there. You’ll get sick.”
“If you’re having some.” He removed his coat and hung it on the rack by the door. He gave a sigh of relief as the warmth of your home welcomed him in. You disappeared into the kitchen, returning with two mugs of hot chocolate. He took one from you graciously. “I really am sorry,” he whispered, “I overreacted. I’ve just been-“
Ford paused, cutting himself off as if he already said too much. When you sat down beside him, he drew you in close. Your nose was pressed to his neck. He’d abandoned his hot chocolate to hold you instead. There was the hot and cold again.
“I’m really sorry, [Y/N],” he said into your hair. “I don’t want to lose you.” You pulled back to look into his eyes. They seemed red and puffy as he held back so many emotions. ���I just feel so alone.”
You let out a sad breath and wondered why he was saying this. He’d never been alone. You had always been by his side. Fiddleford had always been by his side. He’d never be alone. Sure, Fiddleford had left for the holidays, he needed to spend Christmas with his son, but you were still there. Ford was not alone.
You traced over his cheeks with your fingertips to admire him. He was so gentle, so amazing when the two of you were alone. Even when Fiddleford was around, he was sweet, but you enjoyed moments like this the most.
Then, he kissed you. It was a quick peck and something anyone could have missed if they weren’t paying attention. You blinked a few times to register what had just happened. Before you could process, his lips were on yours again, slow and determined. Your arms tangled around his neck and his fell to your waist.
That had been your first kiss, well, your first sober kiss, and, when you pulled away, he smiled. “I care about you.”
He stayed for a while afterwards. The two of you laughed and enjoyed the other’s company until night fell and the grandfather clock in your living room struck 2:00. You’d half fallen asleep in his arms and he had done the same. The chimes caused you to stir.
“I should go,” Ford sighed. His voice was groggy and deeper than normal. A kiss was placed on your forehead as he stood.
You followed him to the door. “Don’t go,” you said. You wrapped your arms around him once more, pulling him into another kiss. “You can stay.”
His smile was sleepy, but if he stayed any longer, he’d be snowed in. He kissed you once, twice, three times. “Stay warm, darling.”
I said “I love you.” You say nothing back.
You gathered your bearings, hyping yourself up in your mind as you stared at the man in front of you. You’d practiced this moment in the mirror a hundred times. You’d gone over every possible outcome. This feeling, this love, that had only grown stronger since college, especially now, was weighing you down. You needed to get it out.
It was the perfect time. Fiddleford had gone home for the holidays. He missed his wife and kid. It was just you and Ford in that cabin, blanketed by snow and winter chill. It was now or never. Despite all your practicing, your calculations of how this would play out, the reality of speaking the truth was much more terrifying.
“Ford,” your voice trembled as he looked up at you from his notes, “I love you.”
Time froze. Ford’s expression was unreadable, eyebrows knitted together in either confusion or shock. He looked startled for a brief second before his face turned neutral once more. You felt so naked under his stare, so vulnerable, while the cogs in his mind turned furiously. You weren’t sure if he had even heard you.
“I love you,” you repeated.
Still, the silence wore on and on and on. Your words hung in the air like a noxious gas, but you waited. Every second felt like an eternity. With each moment, chunks of the hope you had built up inside of you were being ripped away. As Ford continued to stare blankly in your direction. His eyes were wide, but you were expectant. His lips twitched. His mind swirled as the raw emotion you had just displayed caught up to you. You waited.
You took in a shaking breath as your hands came up to cover your mouth. “Stanford-“ You stopped yourself when you realized he wasn’t going to say anything. You blinked back the tears that were welling in your eyes. “I love you,” you whispered again.
Still, he stayed silent. You wiped a tear from your cheek as it slipped beyond your eyelashes. Mascara dripped down your cheeks with it. So, you swallowed your pride. You turned to leave and hoped, begged some higher power, that he’d say something, anything at all.
Even as you left him there and shut the door behind you, he didn’t call out. He didn’t run to you. Suddenly, you remembered where his priorities were and they weren’t with you. You should have known. Fiddleford had told you. He had warned you, but you were too lovestruck to listen.
In your car, outside of his cabin, you let the tears flow. He had finally done it. He pushed you away like he’d pushed away everyone else in his life. As you drove, your vision blurred with tears, you wondered what he’d write about you in his journal. You wondered if he’d say you betrayed him like Fiddleford did. Or, would he mourn you, the loss of his very last friend, the last person who cared about him? You resolved yourself to the fact that you’d never know because you never really knew him to begin with.
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rochenn · 1 day ago
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Literally ALL of your wips sound completely fascinating but im particularly interested in your rebellion codywan 👀
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REBELLION CODYWAN!! This is such a fun trope and I really want to put my own spin on it :D I find the Tatooine setting to be very limiting in regards to what you can do, so imagine it's roundabout five years post-O66 and Tatooine becomes compromised. Fuel reserves have been detected under the surface, which of course the Empire plans to extract, and hence Obi-Wan + the Lars family are evacuated via Bail Organa who caught wind of the upcoming trouble. Coincidentally, this is also the time Cody finds himself joining the cause.
The Rebellion is still a flimsy baby thing at this point. Kinda just a loose web of agents and safe houses and cells that sorta have the same goal but also hate each other. Obi-Wan and Cody end up in the same safe house while Obi-Wan tries to figure out where to send the Lars family next. I think an alternative title to this fic could be "what if you and your long-lost comrade meet again but you're also in a spy thriller", because Codywan works best for me when they're both under enormous amounts of stress :D
I'm still deciding who to involve. An earlier version of the networks seen in Andor is very tempting, especially if you bring them into contact with Bail's network (which contains Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and the like). I think many people would like to recruit Obi-Wan to do anything besides guarding Luke. Many people would also like to recruit Cody.
Lots of stuff happening. Lots of tension. Lots of things to clear up and to navigate. Once again my idea of a simple romance fic has grown a plot thicker than the Earth's crust
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ghelullu · 2 days ago
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(I hope you do not mind me replying with another ask, I don't find tumblr's comment system very practical)
Delullu, same ! This afternoon, before the chapter released, I had commented about how I thought it was gonna be something like "copia lost the keys and the door won't open". I've been saying "CALLED IT" all day lol
I'm also super excited about the music as well and the new aesthetic the next era of ghost will have
Also you mention not liking the chapters masks very much, I'd like to hear more. Honestly I love how expressive Popia was like... he OPENED HIS MOUTH, he actually opened his mouth for real, who are you and what have you done to copia ?
I absolutely don't mind at all!
Goddds, yes, sooo curious to see the new aesthetic, too. Please, give us some info!
The mask thing: I spent a ridiculous amount of time looking at the Masks for drawing him (and autism reasons) and theres a ton of differences between them (especially between the Cardi masks, but thats not the topic here now). The chapter mask is one of the earlier Popia masks and I dont know, it's just weird, the overall shapes are a bit worse than my preferred ones (the 2023 EU/early US mask and the one from the LA shows onward), the crooked hairline etc etc.
The main reason why he opted for the new mask ("surgery") was because TF was feeling claustrophobic in the much more tighter fitting masks before that (thats why those had much better articulation (like, 2018 copia looked like a real dude in both the masks there! it's really good! but also many of terzos masks, even if they almost squeezed his ear off), fit nicer around the mouth etc, were not as huuuge as the popia head, all that) and to allow more freedom for singing (hence the big jaw). This causes a weird mouth situation (the downward turned corners of his mouth, weirder lips, the "bend" in the lower lip (as seen in profile; because of the mask being so far away from the face, pic taken from here and the other is one of Ryan C's from the Ticketmaster site, to illustrate what i mean with "bend") etc, (most of these things are hidden by the black paint when he wears the full facepaint).
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the mouth is the main reason why chapter copia looks so "weird" to many and is declared "ugly"; but when you draw him, all you need to do, really, is to fix the mouth and his face works!). Which is perfectly fine for concert things - the main focus should be on him feeling fine and being able to sing as good as possible!
But for the chapters, i feel, it would be cool to have on that focuses a bit more on the expressions and realism, you know? you dont have to be able to sing for 2 hours in this one. and he does have the budget to commission a mask for the chapters, if he can afford that fancy suit
Dont want to talk too much about the copia masks, because this would cause a level 9 autism event; one day i might publish my mask guide with a timeline and highlighted differences, though, heh.
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parrrty-poison · 1 year ago
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do i forgive too easily?
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localgardenweed · 5 months ago
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About to lose my shit over my shitty Algebra teacher cause i think he’s the devil incarnate cause he doesn’t respect kid’s 504 plans, there is this kid who may not always show up to class on time for some reason im not sure why but they try their best to catch up and work hard and they asked to send over and take the recent test they missed in a certain classroom and he was like “No you cant, you have to show up tomorrow in here to take it” when literally in their 504 plan says they can take it in that room no one can force them to take it in their classroom, but DOES HE CARE??? NOOOOOO. I think he was just trying to be tough or smth god knows what cause he has a huge ass power complex like dear god dude we get it you were a army guy but is yelling at teens really what you wanna do to feel that high of power again?? The kid then complained to the school and he got a ass whooping but sadly not fired and then the next day was pissed as hell and took it out on all of us 😍
he doesn’t care to actually help students at all, he just gives up on them if they don’t understand the first or barely the second time and tells em to basically fuck off and find someone else to explain it and i get it teaching is hard you might not be able to get everyone to understand BUT ITS LITERALLY HIS GO TO RESPONSE WHEN YOU DONT UNDERSTAND SMTH IN HIS SHITTY RAPID FIRE EXPLANATION WHEN HE JUST JUMPS FROM THING TO THING WITH NO VISUAL OR EVEN SENSE CAUSE WTF HOW DID YOU GET THAT ANSWER HELLO?? SLOW DOWN?? We were going over the study guide and he started doing a question and then realized half way it was “too hard” to do on the board so he gave up and kept going to the next question and a kid at my table who didn’t do that part pf the study guide cause they dont know how asked “Can you go over that please i don’t understand it” and his response was “im not going over it just to fill it in” and the kid said “im not asking to just fill it in im asking cause I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO IT” and guess what. HE DIDNT DO IT HE JUST IGNORED THEM AND KEPT GOING. YOUR STUDENT IS ASKING FOR HELP AND YOU AINT DOING SHIT. HELLO??? AND THIS ISNT THE FIRST TOME HE ALWAYS PULL THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME, GOD FORBID YOU ASK A QUESTION MORE THAN ONCE THATS TOK SCARY AAAHHHHH.
I hope all his classes fails and they fire his ass cause omg there has never been anything positive said about this man that isn’t from favorites/people who already are godly at math. The average student who’s had him HATES HIM.
Im really debating like cussing him out Thursday after my final cause i cant just walk away and act like it was a okay class no he needs to get fucking humbled at least see what he does is harmful and shitty and douchey. I dont care if i get in trouble im not gonna go down like this so many kids in that class have struggled cause of his ass not doing his job. And sure some of there are rowdy and sure some are a bit off task but that doesn’t give you the right to abandon them. If i ever kicked my own bucket he would be 5 of my 13 reasons why.
#localgardenweed#the weed is rambling#i wish upon his downfail almost daily cause like i feel like a death wish isnt good enough thats the easy way out#i need his ass to think and contemplate what he does and reevaluate his lfie#he needs to get off his fucking imaginary throne and look at what he actually does as a teacher#i know teaching is hard and now pays next to nothing but he just doesn’t do his job and if he wants to keep it shit better start changing#there are other teachers in the same topics that do swimingly not to compare but i have to for him#they are patient they give their kids resources like idk FULL WORK ON ANSWER KEYS#that was my biggest ick with him he never posted answe keys with the work hust answers#i know he probably did it to avoid ppl cooying but also screwed over kids who need to see what went wrong with their work#also minor complaint but he used the math textbook for ‘notes’ and YOU KNOW HOW SMALL THE SPACE IS YO WRITE IN THOSE???#WHY IS ALL THE WORK IN THERE WHY DO YOU DO THIS#HE SAID HE DID WORKSHEETS LAST HEAR AND I TOOM A SUGH OF RELIF THINK WE WOULD TO BUT NAHHH HERE IS THE GIANT ASS BOOK THAT WILL GUVE YOU#BACK PAIN AND ALSO IM NOT GONNA SAY PAGE NUMBERS IMMA SAY TOPIC HEADERS#WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT#Thats also a minor complaint but i knew shit was gonna be rough when he said the chapter names and not page numbers#so much time was lost trying to find the oage in the book#also kinda important not really but there were only 5 girls in that class including me#in a room of like 19#…IM JUST SAYING#he did treat my table a little shit which was coincidently all girls#coincidence? yeah probably but ya know.#he mostly ignored the girls unless they were the 2 kids at my table cause they actual spoke up#but he ignored them too so ya know#i may be over thinking it but if he did get fired for sexism ya know i wouldn’t be surprised#school if you’re reading this know that yeah im pissed at him and yeah i do want to talk in student services i think its for the best
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the-kipsabian · 10 months ago
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#death //#really tho just. losing two family members within a week from one another is. really rough#even if it is from natural causes and old age it still feels very sudden#and even if we werent that close it still hurts#little things remind me of the grandparents i dont have anymore. like making dinner and realizing im not eating their cooking again#or my grandmas favorite songs. its just. rough#im just thinking a lot. and not looking forward to two funerals within the next few weeks#just.. yeah. i feel kinda fucked up on the inside. more so than usually but for once not cause of myself#its. odd to me. grief hasnt really been constant in my life in years. apart from losing my brothers cat few years ago#before that i lost my other grandma like eleven years ago. since then immediate family has been okay#its just weird. i dont really know how to grief. it comes in waves and odd memories and it feels really.. idk. off to me#ive had few crying fits over some random things but i just feel. numb. maybe its cause of the sudden frequency of these#or cause i dont know how to deal. its strange to me. feels out of place to mourn something other than what i made myself lost#maybe its cause while there was a connection there was a larger disconnection. i havent seen either of them since covid started#idk. regrets and shit and whatnot. i just feel all but nothing at the same time#just. just saying. idk. just wanna clean my brain a little. its been a difficult day. sorry#night is an absolute mess on main
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unreadpoppy · 1 year ago
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the thing about being the only neurodivergent person in your friend group is that whenever you have to make a group decision, if you have to go against the group because of acessibility, you're going to loose.
My friends and I are going to watch a movie this month and everyone wants to watch it dubbed and I'd rather with subtitles. Why? 1) because people can be very loud and if someone is talking next to me and there's no subtitles, I will miss part of the movie and won't understand what's happening. 2) I think I might have some of that audio processing stuff cause I swear when I watch stuff dubbed it takes me so long to understand what's going on without a subtitle, I will miss important plot points or characters names and it won't be a good experience and since dubbed movies don't come with subtitles, I just get lost. 3) When the sounds get too much to me, at least I can focus on the writing to follow along
But because my friends don't like watching things subtitled, I lost in the vote and when my friend said the cinema we chose only had dubbed I reacted with a crying sticker and someone very aggresively was like "girl if you want to watch it subtitled go watch alone cause no one here wants to" and then I had to fucking explain that man, I'm going to go watch it dubbed cause i'm not gonna make anyone watch it subtitled.
'cause unlike neurotypicals, I'm used to having to be unconfortable for their fucking sake.
And it's like, if I try to explain, it's always like well you can handle it y'know, my needs get dismissed as nothing because why would everyone else bend and break for me when I can just "take it"? Like if dubbed movies just came with subtitles, my life would be so. much. easier. It's why I'm okay with watching stuff dubbed AT HOME, cause I can put the subtitles anyways.
I'm lucky enough that I managed to convince people to not sit all the way in the back (they wanted to sit in the last motherfucking seats, which are closer to the sound machines which means that everything is way worse for me and also, even with glasses, my eyesight is still gonna be worse all the way in the back when compared to like, the middle row).
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 years ago
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TW FOR MUSIC OPINIONS but i miss what jack harlow was doing like a few records ago lmao
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rosicheeks · 2 years ago
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What's like one big goal you're hoping to accomplish this year?
(PS I hope you don't get COVID! Even a "mild" case sucks, my sense of taste has yet to fully recover months later!)
Oh BOY that’s a complicated question hahahah. To try and put it simplistic as possible - figure out what I want to do with my life. Or like what path to take?
#first of all thank you! I really hope I don’t get it either. I mean I’m not super worried about me cause I know it’ll suck but I’ll be fine#but now that I live with my parents I’m scared that I’ll accidentally give it to them and both of them aren’t doing the best physically#but there’s nothing I can do now…. tbh I’ve been slacking with masks and being cautious so I should probably go back to that#masks are just expensive and I’m broke#need to either find my disposable or buy new ones#I hope your taste comes back soon!!! that sounds awful 😔#anywayyy to your question#right now I just kinda feel lost in life#I need to feel like I’m going somewhere again#cause right now I just feel like I’m in limbo????#obviously would love to figure out my mental bullshit but idk how realistic that is#honestly would just love to figure out everything that’s wrong with me so I can start to feel idk normal?#idk this is probably more loaded than you were expecting haha#but especially ever since the move I’ve been so fucking lost and I want to figure out my life but idk where to even start ya know#but yeah I guess that’s my goal#on a smaller scale I would love love love to get more traffic and sales on my Etsy#I just really want to make my Etsy shop a way to be creative and make money at the same time#cause paint and art shit is expensive 😭#and when you’re already broke it’s hard to justify buying paint or canvases ya know#buuuuut if I get more sales and a bigger profit then maybe it’ll be worth it???#also I LOVE seeing my paintings somewhere else its just so bittersweet#cause I love my paintings so much so it’s hard to let go of them#but the thought of someone else hanging them up and seeing them everyday????#it’s so heartwarming 🥺#like I could help warm up your space???? with color and some love 🥰💖#I just love it so much#thanks for the question lovely 🥰🥰🥰#ask#lovely mutuals
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melodianaartist · 6 days ago
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Okay i get the Howl‘s moving castle hype now. That’s an amazing movie
#watched it for the first time#i had only seen that pic of fully bird howl before and I was expecting it to be like this dramatic moment#but it’s really not#Sophie shows up kisses him and gets him home#it’s simply brushed aside because if doesn’t matter#Sophie loves him. it’s not a big revelation. she already is sure of herself - of her love#so him beeing at his lowest doesn’t matter. it only matters that he is safely returned home#same with the heart beeing returned to him. it’s not this big act of romantic love or realisation of love#I mean it is an act of love but it’s not Sophie finally shouting I love you and suddenly his heart is returned to him by the power of true#love or whatever you get me? the two of them are very obviously into each other before that too + at peace with it#romantic love is obviously present but it’s not like end all be all for them b/c the familia relations they built with everyone else#is also just as important and stable. if anything true love beeing the end all be all is kinda parodied with the turnip prince + him beeing#instead both Sophie’s curse and Howl’s curse is a lack of self worth#Sophie feels ugly and she trades in her own youth for the sake of everyone else. she turns old and doesn’t even reach out to them for help.#her family is not malicious by any means and they worry about her but they also don’t really fight the distance that behaviour create#not actively anyway. when the mother finds out her lost daughter is back she reunites with her tearfully and is genuinely happy but she is#also dipping quickly again and that’s not weird behaviour.#the family Sophie makes in the moving castle is so very intimate and close in contrast.#and she chooses them for herself. not for anyone else.#as for howl so much about him screams gifted kid burn out to me#or more like beeing gifted + lonely and your gift is so wonderous and magical and it makes you so happy#but you also tie so much of yourself to it. and you get praised for it. you‘re a prodigy..but when using your gift inevitably is hard#and tears at you#your self worth also lessens. and then you realise this system you‘ve been exceeding in is fucked and brings destruction and it encourages#you to become a tool (to the point where other wizards even lose their identities to become weapons for the king)#and as if that isn‘t worse enough that tool is meant to cause destruction#so you run from this system. and you want to use your gift on your own terms and that’s what you do but it still doesn’t fix that self worth#issue and you are free but you are alone and that’s not a place to foster self worth#when really what really helps is someone who isn‘t so indrenchwd in your head and has a new perspective#howls moving castle
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thesunshookwithjoy · 18 days ago
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(extremely long tag rant)
#sometimes it’s like ‘I have a handle on my ocd and it’s been pretty good!’ but that’s a lie actually#it’s just that I haven’t been constantly triggered and degraded in a while#but m’s parents are visiting! and they simply refused to do anything differently than they’d do it at their house#and listen. listen to me. I know I have a disorder that makes people moving things around in my house and leaving their shit everywhere#a big problem where for most it wouldn’t be an issue at all#and I don’t actually expect or even really ask my guests to follow my rules bc I think that’s unreasonable#I just have to fix the house every night before bed or I can’t sleep#but they keep staying up until like 1am and I’m not sleeping every night so I’m exhausted and I can’t wait up for them#so I wake up - house wrong. I fix it and then leave a room for 5 seconds - house is wrong. I go to bed - house is wrong.#I just get no fucking relief from it its constant. they don’t even push in their fucking chairs. it’s like living with children#and she complains about shit all the fucking time. ‘your floors are always so cold you know it’s not like that at our house’#okay well we rent so we have no control over that and also we live in entirely different places maybe houses are different here#she started making chicken - didn’t ask about a cutting board so she tried to use a cracked one I only keep as decor and THEN#she goes to start doing the chicken stuff after I get her out the right stuff and there’s fucking dog food out on the counter next to her#and she looked at my like I was such a bitch when I moved the bowls of dog food away. I’m not having raw chicken AND dog food on there#I asked them to not leave the dogs bowls on the counter too but that’s a lost cause ig. better than the diaper on my couch#it’s just constant and I obviously can’t just pick up their shit and tidy it the same way I can m’s#and he slides back into all these rude habits bc he’s around his parents again bc obvi that’s how they raised him so he regresses#I’m just so tired and I have another day and then they want to do 5 days for thanksgiving and 7 for Christmas#and I have to find a way to tell m that if they’re in my house for 7 days I’ll actually have to barricade myself in the bedroom#usually I feel like he and I are on the same side when it comes to his parents but lately I’ve just felt pretty abandoned and that’s hard#I had to take a benzo just to deal w them yesterday bc my heart rate was like 180 for an hour#AND I’m on my PERIOD#this was a long tag rant but I needed this#personal
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cherry-heartss · 4 months ago
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#mannnnnn i just got really in my feelings last night and listened to almost all of skz’s discography😭#i haven’t listened to any music in a couple of months tbh I’ve been mostly playing like video essays in the background while i do stuff#but yeah#really made me feel so nostalgic and everything#almost lost my shit when awkward silence came on cause I remember when they toured in 2019 and i saw videos of them preforming that and#having fun 😭😭#ngl i haven’t completely moved past the fact they didn’t release ot8 versions of hero’s soup glow 4119 and school life cause i loveeee those#*4419#mia my beloved#get cool my beloved#scars call one day my beloved#tmt sunshine astronaut booster you can stay my beloveds#grow up 3rd eye chronosaurus boxer gone days my beloveds#alien close ice.cream mirror hall of fame item collision my beloveds#young wings my universe glow hero’s soup mixtape 1 my beloveds#slump phobia blueprint pacemaker mixtape oh mixtape on track limbo my beloveds#insomnia my beloved#the opening of insomnia is etched into my mind with how it used to be the opening for chan’s lives🥲#19 also felt hella weird to listen to cause i had this song on loop during the year i was turning 19#like it was so odd that song and it’s lyrics just meant a lot to me and now i’m turning 21 next month#it’s just so interesting ig to look back on that time and have the same feelings while listening#idk like pretty much every song i listened to i was taken back to the moment i first heard it … I was in shambles T_T
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soleilchanson · 8 days ago
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Boxer!Sukuna who makes you kiss his gloves before his match for good luck.
Masterlist
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His team had left the locker room and it was just the two of you now. You were sitting on a bench while he organized his bag. “I didn’t know you got so many freebies from your sponsorships.” In your hand, was a brand new boxing shoe that he received from UnderArmor for a sports shoot campaign.
“Eh, they’re not really what I need in the actual matches but I use them during training cause I don’t wanna waste ‘em.” He mumbled. He seemed to be more on edge than usual. During his last match, he lost by a landslide, having a sour taste in his mouth from the experience. He blamed you because you weren’t there to kiss his glove prior to the match.
You turn to look at him staring down at his gloves.
“Sukuna.”
“Yeah?” He turned to look at you. No smiles, just a deadpan expression. You walked towards him and held his face in your hands. You could tell he was nervous about the fight even though he had won so many before.
“Honey, what’s on your mind?” Your voice was sincere and comforting for him. “What if I’m in a slump? My last match was so bad. I’ve never lost like that. What if I’m on a losing streak now?”
You get on your tippy toes and kiss his cheek. “Sukuna, you’ve worked hard have you not?” He nods. “And you feel like you’ve trained well this time.” He nods again. “Then why are you so worried? Is it because you were distracted last time?”
He sighs and wraps his arms around you, burying his head in your neck in the process. “Look, I don’t know if you think it’s weird but when I see you outside the ring, I feel like I have a reason to win. It drives me to fight better. I had a really shitty day last time and when I didn’t see you I just didn’t feel like giving my all.”
Your heart felt like it was being torn to pieces after seeing your husband sulk. “I just felt burnt out. I was hoping that once I saw you then I’d feel better.”
You hugged him tighter and kissed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sukuna, I promise I’ll never do that again.” You start rubbing your hand up and down his back in hopes to calm him down right before his match.
“Kiss my gloves for me?” He asks as he pulls away. You nod. He takes his boxing gloves out and places them in your hands. You leave a delicate kiss on each of them, your gloss leaving a small sparkly stain. He takes them from your hand and kisses them on the same spots as you did, maintaining eye contact with you throughout. “You’re my good luck charm, you know that?” He says as he strokes your head.
You show him a teethy grin and nod.
“And you’re mine.” Your reply made him smash his lips to yours. “I’ll be sure to win now that you’re here.” He mumbled against your lips.
-•-
No thoughts. Just boxer!sukuna
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