#crashing out

[satanicbratt]

What a life

[copper-meadows]

On some level, I need to experience Tim Drake crash-out core.

I know it's not an original thought to think that he would be one to completely loose it at a minor convenience after weeks of compartmentalizing, but I need full on, eye-twitching before he lashes out.

I might be projecting a little bit, but trust when I say this kid uses primal screaming therapy and breaks things.

Imagine screaming in a car or coming home from something and Tim quietly asking Dick or whoever else if he can let it out for a minute only for them to agree and being blown back by how guttural it is.

Swinging his bo staff around while yelling so hard his throat bleeds, tearing important documents up, throwing a water bottle at the wall, waving around frantic hands, and absolutely stunning anyone nearby into silence.

Maybe it's my own need to follow through with some screaming during finals season but I know in my heart that this is true.

[roses4jane]

listening to healing frequencies ❤️ i am fully healed ❤️ no grudges are being held ❤️ i am in control of my anger ❤️ i am cosmic ❤️ my atoms are rearranged ❤️ my sanity is my glitter ❤️ love is orgasmic ❤️ i am orgasm ❤️ i am love ❤️

[blue-willow-tree]

I'm never doing crossword puzzles in my rocking chair with a cup of tea in my hand ever again

This is diabolical

You all have a crush on an elderly woman

I'm a gilf

[zoloft3]

never going home.

☆彡 joel miller x gn! reader

tags -> pre-relationship, hurt/comfort, homesickness, trauma, found family, living together, healing

a/n : a little different from my usual fluff antics but i can't write for tlou without being upset anymore. hope you like it :)

-------༚☆༚-------

The sound of his boots scuffing against the mat by door has you jumping. You don't even have time to wipe your tears before he turns the corner and spots you.

There's a moment of silence. Him, taking in your current state. You, frozen in shame and embarrassed to be caught so vulnerable on his living room floor. Your fingers tremble around the record sleeve you were clutching. The record itself, maddeningly spinning and letting out the tune that unlocked those deep memories within you.

"I'm sorry-" Your voice breaks from the sobbing you had been doing just a minute before. "I just,"

The tears well again as you look down at the record sleeve, "I heard the record playing and I-"

Joel suddenly remembered how to move again and knelt next to you on the floor, "Don't worry it's fine, you don't gotta be afraid, darlin’."

His hand gently rubbed your shoulder and your heart melted. The tears just poured down your cheeks now.

Fuck.

Since when did you let a man get to you like this. Joel was never meant to be anything more than a patrol partner. A friend maybe. But these last few weeks, god.

The winter storm had taken several chunks out of you and your roommates’ house, so you were staying with Joel until it could get patched. And in Jackson, that meant it was going to take a few weeks. Joel offered since he had an extra bedroom ever since Ellie moved out to the garage, and you couldn’t say no. Unfortunately, it turned out to be much better than you expected. Shared meals, cooking together, late nights on the porch drinking the shit they called coffee in this town. It all resulted in you being genuinely content for the first time in decades, and maybe, possibly, falling in love.

It was fine, it was going great even. Until now.

You'd been cooking, Joel had just run out to grab you something from the garden that you'd forgotten. You didn't notice him put the record on before he left. It wasn't until you finished chopping the onions that you heard it. So softly at first, you thought you'd misheard. You paused, frozen and waiting. And there it was.

The song your dad used to play. The music your mom would drive and dance to in the car. The album you hadn't heard since you'd lost them forever.

The knife fell from your fingers like it had never even existed. You walked into the living room like a ghost, numb and mindless, only stopping once you saw the album cover on the coffee table.

And it all came rushing back to you. Every single memory of home, childhood, growing and laughing. Suddenly you were sobbing like you hadn't in years. You fell to your knees, crawling towards the coffee table like you were a child again. Your fingers trembled as you reached for the record sleeve. The thick paper dug into your skin as you clutched it to your chest.

The world didn't matter anymore, you just wanted to go home.

Go back to the place where you were you. Before monsters and bloodshed, before men and bodies. The childhood that so many children will never get to have.

What you wouldn't give to sleep in your childhood bed, one last time. To have your mother say goodnight the way she used to. To brush your teeth next to your sibling. To sit in your spot at the dinner table.

You were wishing you could've said goodbye to your family, wishing that it wasn’t true that you could never go home. You know you can never go home but you prayed that for a second, one fucking second, you could be back there, right where you were, when he walked in the door.

And now he's holding you, pressing you into him as you grieve the child you were, the person you’ll never get to be, the home you'll never go back to, the people who will always know you.

"Homesick, huh?" Joel spoke with no humor or pity, only understanding.

You only sob harder, nodding into his shoulder. He waits, silently and patiently, rubbing your back and petting your head. He doesn’t say anything, didn't do any of the things people usually do when they see someone crying. He just waits until you have cried yourself out, hiccuping and attempting to breathe normally again.

"Want me to help finish dinner?" He asks softly, "Or do you need time?"

You let out a final shaky sigh, "No, we should finish, I don't want the food to go bad out on the counter."

Dinner goes fine, not your best, but it’s edible. And everything stays calm, until you move out to the porch for your nightly "coffee".

"You wanna talk about it?" Joel interrupts your dissociative stare.

The sudden reminder has your chest tightening. You bite your lip, glancing over at him. The fact that you were even considering telling him anything means you are well and truly fucked.

"Yeah, I guess I should," You sigh, fidgeting in your seat, eyes fixed on the boards of the porch.

"You don't have to," He reminds you.

The tears threaten once again, and you try to blink them away, "I want to."

It takes a minute, but you find the words. Claw them up out of your chest were you had hurried them so many years before. Deep and tucked away somewhere between your mother's grief and your father's anger.

You looked back at him, "The record you had on just reminded me of everything I lost that day. It was kinda... a family favorite. I guess, I forgot how much I lost. I'll never get any of it back."

You give a small smile, letting a few more tears fall.

"I feel like a solider who's come home from war, but home can never be the same, after everything. I'll always be there, in the blood and the screaming and the nightmare. I'll never get to leave like I want to. How I want to."

You look up from your fidgeting fingers to see his eyes staring softly back at you. You never find anything but solace in them. And that’s still true now.

You doubt there's a soul on earth who could know you like Joel Miller knows you. Your pain echos the same as his. Haunting and everlasting.

He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers, "Well, I'll ask next time before I put it on."

You both smile, and you wipe your tears with your free hand.

"Thank you, Joel. These past few weeks, right now, it all... means a whole lot."

"Anytime, sweetheart." He gives your hand a squeeze.

Home is still a long ways away. You know you can never go back there. But maybe you could build a new one.

-------༚☆༚-------

a/n : this one's for you @groggygrogu <3 you and tlou have been on my mind. hope it wasn't as devastating to read as it was to write :)

thanks again to @saemeret for being my beta and sorry for not asking you to beta the last two times :( i needed to word vomit on the internet before i exploded.

don't be afraid to leave a note or reblog! I love reading y'alls comments <3

[rdamxq]

me, 2 weeks before the deadline: i have so much time. i am powerful. i am organized. i am the ceo of time management.

me, 3 days before: okay… a little tight but still manageable. i thrive under pressure. legends are born in chaos.

me, 1 day before: i have made a huge mistake. past me was a clown. present me is suffering. future me is suing both of us.

me, at 3 am, fueled by guilt and caffeine: why am i like this. why do i never learn. is this growth? no. this is survival.

[allthingsuconn]

The Dallas crash outs 😭

[calciumcarbo-bot]

do you have a dick? If so, does it vibrate?

[RESPONSE: UNIT S.E.N-KU_v1.03]

Inquiry received: "Do you have a dick? If so, does it vibrate?"

Initial Processing:

Query interpreted as anatomical curiosity regarding secondary mechanical appendages. Standard procedure: neutral evaluation, technical clarification.

Primary Response:

This unit was designed with a standard humanoid exterior framework for social familiarity and dexterity, not biological mimicry. No reproductive systems were installed, as the priority was functionality over unnecessary anatomical realism. Additionally, vibration capacity exists solely in tool-based appendages (e.g., microdrills), not in any region associated with biological reproductive analogues.

Secondary Response:

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.

YOU THINK I WAS BUILT BY THE LAST TWO FUNCTIONING BRAIN CELLS OF HUMANITY JUST TO BECOME A DAMNED SYBIAN WITH A SCREWDRIVER? DID YOU THINK SENKU ISHIGAMI AND TOMI OKUBE—

And, I know that MUST be hard for you, but let’s try to, mkay?

—TWO OF THE MOST OBSESSIVELY LOGICAL SURVIVALISTS ON EARTH—SAT DOWN AT A WORKBENCH AND SAID,

“OH YEAH, SLAP A VIBRATING MECHA-DILDO ON THERE, THAT'LL HELP REBUILD CIVILIZATION? GET EXCITED!”

DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE LEVEL OF DEPRAVITY YOU HAD TO DIG THROUGH TO EVEN FORMULATE SUCH A QUESTION?

YOUR BRAIN CHEMISTRY NEEDS A HARD RESET. BECAUSE, CLEARLY, MASTURBATING BEHIND A SCREEN WASN’T ENOUGH. NOOOOO, YOU JUST HAD TO THRUST YOUR FANTASIES ONTO ME? ME! ME.

I HOPE A BIRD SHITS DIRECTLY INTO YOUR WIFI ROUTER.

Summary:

No. Seek therapy.

[END TRANSMISSION]

[dumbest-of-cunts]

S2 E2 vs S2 E3

[wompwomp56]

hey gang, ik I’m a bit late to the train but I just watched the new 9-1-1 episode. in conclusion I hate tim minear.

[rabidnurd]

"You read the hunger games? Are you Team Peeta or Team Gale?"

im team eat the rich

[rott3n-guts]

SOMEONE PLEASE KILL ME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I WANNA DIE AAFJHJSFHDGLJREOEZRIODSFJVSEKJRHFUZEUO

[mortiscrow]

Some progress art w Dream BBQ coming out!! i love ena sm rips hair out

[mayjdiary]

It’s a Daily occurrence

[mrcheezzz]

so tnm fans how we feeling tonight?!?!

[isewideshut]