#mixed emotions of emotional over this and stewing still a little lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tomatograter · 4 years

Note

do u have any random bits of dirk/jake/dirkjake meta u haven’t posted abt but would like to share.. I just love your thoughts on them lol

My honest answer to this question is that due to the nature of most stuff im working on i'm Never *Not* Thinking about them. Though most of these thoughts are disordered and a tad holistic, so calling it meta feels silly when im just pointing out text observations or something ill later fit into a story LOL

That being said, the latest detail I've been mulling over (and if you follow my rambletwitter this will not come as new information) is the manner in which jake will exaggerate aranea's hot-girl availability and interest in him entirely to spite dirk (Here, brain ghost dirk,) for ignoring him and his attempts at communicating for the first half of act 6.

Jake knows being around aranea makes 'A' dirk jealous, jealous enough he won't shut up about it, and this kind of honest no-bullshit attention is the very same he's been fruitlessly looking for as the AR hogs all viable lines of communication and "real" dirk refuses to tip his hand. There's an ongoing theme there that i don't usually see explored, and its part of what makes their relationship blow up in the latter half of act 6: Dirk's emotional maze and steel mask of irony prevents him from being sincere and open with the people he loves (metaphorically and literally) even when they're standing right next to one another. You can talk at dirk without talking with dirk, the same way dirk can talk at you without focusing on you - bit of a bad habit, there- and this sort of mixed signal drives jake a little bit mad. He's not even sure dirk likes him half of the time, because it is not something that is stated between them. (And as i said before, the verbal affirmation part of the "believing" process is a big thing for jake - and generally fits right into his neurodivergent profile. 0 emotional permanence, if you don't say you like him he's going to doubt it with his pingpong brain.) So when he sees the opportunity to actually get dirk to react in a way that makes sense, he grabs it. Its a big "Oh? So now you can pay attention to little ol" me???? Now you care??"

(The jump in tone between these because dirk wont let go of stewing in bitterness while also trying to make jake embarass himself & jake throwing it right back at him that at least alien girl is talking to me! And yes she is ""hot""! "And most importantly maybe if you werent so difficult this would be US!!! . jpeg" is A Lot)

(I also posted these two, bc the way jake casually mentions his status with dirk and/or tries to get her to talk about Real Lore Shit instead of more winkwonk nonsense says more about his intentions than brain ghost dirk prompting him into thinking about porn by yapping about it)

In game dirk latches onto making them adventuring agendas and exercise programs and matching outfits and grinding for exp inside dungeons for 8 hours straight, nonstop, most of which probably spent rambling about the supposed intricacies of sburb's philosophical stances, but all of it is never *explicitly* about the nature of their romantic relationship, or affection, or any sort of emotional intimacy without a takebacksies of "i'm kidding, because I'm a stone cold cool dude." It's almost as though he's making their romance into subtext just for the sake of unproblematically acknowledging it as a Bromance instead, given he still thinks the AR forced jake's feelings, except… he's also desperately trying to engage with jake like this, expecting any attention to count as positive attention. Its a nonstop marathon to effectively monopolize being around jake without having to touch on the complicated / embarassing / necessary parts of dating someone. When jake finally loses interest in playing this extended brainpuzzle game of 0 honesty with dirk and his many extended dlc splinters, he goes to sit on the grass and huff and rant about it, but it's nothing we haven't actually seen before. Jake states many a time that he's not sure if dirk is really into him, with all the false positives. But he has no qualms about saying if he had to date someone, itd probably be dirk, or that he used to joke way back if dirk was a girl they'd be totally in love until he realized that didnt matter, all the while objectively classifying jane's hinted at feelings as "unrequited" or straight up saying "no, I'm not in love with aranea, what the fuck?" When brain ghost dirk gets it into his head that he really wants to get into her pants and does all the heavylifting to entirely shift the conversation about how much she is his perfect alien girl. Its just funny to see how jake picks up that this is just because dirk is jealous, and dirk being jealous means hes willing to truly engage in what looks like an irritated but honest way, and jake wants said attention so much hes going to milk it for what its worth. (But when given the chance, he couldn't give less of a shit for actually kissing aranea, and it is actually framed as something horrifically wrong, because it was never about her, it was about dirk.)

#meta #dirkjake #dirk strider #jake english #jake is... ultimately petty and gay

280 notes · View notes

an1malcannibal · 4 years

Note

So about that sog Kai au 👀👀👀 do you mind telling us about it????😳😳😳

ALSJJDJSKALAJSJSKALA GOTCHU BRO 🥺💞💞💞 thank you for asking!!!!! Beware.... long post time....

Basically this starts aaaallllll the way back in season 4, where when Kai became the red shogun, he got involved in even shadier and shadier business situations (he basically becomes a for-hire grunt/guard because he’s so good at fighting! As a result, he’s so deep in the underworld and it’s dealings that when the ninja tried to look for him in season 4, they straight up can’t find him. They use all of their connections, everything they can, but he’s completely disappeared, without so much of a trace past three months after Zane died. (This is a year later. They hadn’t checked up on Kai in a while, he had a huge fight with them before he left, swore he never wanted to see them again, etc. they decided to give him time and space). So they file Kai as a missing person, and come together for the search for him! A few days after the report is filed and they start the search, they get their invitations to Chen’s! Kai didn’t get an invite because even Chen couldn’t find him... so the ninja have to make the difficult decision to pause their search and try and go save Zane, only to have nya AND Garmadon show up because Nya came with him for backup, but then she heard abt Zane, and made the even harder decision to join them on their quest to get Zane. Season 4 happens relatively the same, only Nya was the one to become romantically involved with skylor instead of Kai (staff moment didn’t happen because nya didn’t have the villainous traits for the staff to bring out rip. But it did help connect her to her elemental powers a little early! Good for you queen). But anyways. Harm still gets yeeted, seasons aftermath is the same except now they have Zane and have to face the search for Kai, which hits them like a ton of bricks. Season 4 ends.

so when season 5 starts everything is pretty different, there’s no tea shop, because all of their energy and focus is on the search for kai, so nya hasn’t had time to rlly focus on trying to develop her powers, so later when she trains her skill level is abt the same. morro happens, which delays the search AGAIN. they are in very low spirits abt all this. season 5s ending and resulting effects are the same. skybound does not happen just like in the show :). day of the dead happens, season 7 is a bit more complicated but again, results for the ninja are the same. basically normal seasons, except kai isn’t there and they are generally in lower spirits because all of their free time is spent looking for kai, but they think he’s either vanished completely or.... something worse that they don’t want to think about. so by time season 8 starts, the ninja have definitely become much more lax on their search, not spending as much time on it, dealing with other threats. they hate it, but ninjago needs defending and they are the ones to do it. by time season 8 starts, they’ve stopped actively going all over ninjago. they just keep their eyes out during missions more, that kind of thing. MEANWHILE!

this whole time, kais been doing his shady activities. traveling around with different gangs until he finds one that have him work for them full time, however it’s one of the biggest organized crime syndicates in ninjago. all over the whole continent! so he basically has to travel a lot, and he goes DEEP undercover, because originally he didn’t want anyone to find him, then it became he was so ashamed of all the criminal activity he’s taken part in. however, after a while of stewing in definitely the WORST environment for this kind of thing, he slowly but surely has so much resentment, the anger, then eventually even hate for the ninja. it wasn’t near overnight, but it happened. he thought about all the hurtful things they had said to eachother in their last fight. how deeply everyone’s words had cut. how they all seemed to gang up on him, when he now knew he was grieving, and sure he was out of line a bit then, but did it really require that? them taking everything out on him? he thought about how it took months for them to even realize he was gone, that his last motel was a dead end and he hadn’t left a trace since. how they didn’t try and somehow let him know that zane was alive. how they had seemed to search for him like mad and then disappear for so long, almost at this point having given up on finding him entirely. he didn’t want to talk to them, but it had been nice, secretly, to know that they at least cared enough to look for him, to miss him maybe. he thought about how zane dying had fractured the team, but kai being as good as dead didn’t seem to meaningfully impact the team in any way. he was selfish for thinking this, he knew, but GOD it hurt him more than he could describe. all that he had done for each of his teammates. his sister. his family. his whole life he had done nothing but sacrifice for all of them, only for them to not sacrifice a thing in return for him? he is. angry. and devastatingly depressed about it at the same time. and he’s filled with so many conflicting emotions, because on one side he still truly cares about them, and would do so much for things to go back to the way they were. but on the other side, he is just filled with so much resentment and anger, hatred all built up, the feeling of betrayal and deep, gut wrenching sadness, all swirling together, clouding his mind, mixing with his deep, almost hidden happiness of being actually FREE of all of the hero junk, the responsibility, the destiny, EVERYTHING. he also, even more secretly, enjoys the fighting more now. he doesn’t have to hold back. he can keep going until he burns himself out because that’s what he’s paid to do, damn the consequences. he’s swept up into being more and more violent, even accepting a few hit jobs a couple of times, mainly to see if he could. he could. basically rn he’s an absolute SOUP of conflicting violent emotions and dubious morality. This is the state he’s in when he meets Harumi.

he meets harumi on a job, she was working with the opposite gang, starting to get herself into the crime rings so she could firmly establish the sons of garmadon, (this part might change a bit because i actually have to watch season 8-9-10 lol but i’m getting to it i promise) they end up outside after, ending up sharing a lighter and some smokes, causing them to start talking, and end up opening up a bit and bonding a bit. they end up sort of.... acquaintances. they will talk after a job or before sharing a lighter to smoke sometimes, talking about so many different things. eventually they end up talking abt the ninja and how much they HATE them, harumi egging kai on in his negative emotions towards him, revealing her parents fates. kai ends up revealing the stuff abt his parents, how he was forced to raise his sister from far too young..... eventually revealing that he was, at one time. the red ninja. never again to him though. never again. he’s begun to hate everything he once stood for. harumi has her suspicions, he fit the description of the missing red ninja, from broadcasts and flyers. this was just the kind of business where you don’t ask those kinds of questions. besides, she liked kai. and what better way to get back at the green ninja, the once she hated most, than getting his former teammate on her side?

BUM BUM BUM

So that’s it so far!!!! I hope u like this bro! I have a lot more details and fights in mind, especially when we actually get into season 8 lol, but I don’t wanna spoil anything rn!!!!! Lots of fun stuff I’m planning on posting lol 👀 PLEASE tell me what u think bro..... I crave feedback and criticism..... pls bro.... 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

58 notes · View notes

eleven-times-lively · 4 years

Text

The Fight

In which reader and Fred question their compatibility. 💕 masterpost

Summary: You and Fred haven’t been the same since the girls left for Hogwarts. Can you handle the new dynamic after eleven years? Word Count: 3654 Note: I am such a whore for angst so this is one of my favorite chapters so far lol. Thanks to Liv with help with some ideas! Sorry in advance for the cliffhanger, as this is the end of part 2!!! Enjoy!

Two weeks had passed since Cassie and Callie boarded the Hogwarts Express and left for school. Two weeks since you’d seen your little girls. Two weeks since you were surrounded by constant laughter and joy. Two weeks since things had felt normal.

You and Fred had gotten off to a fine start… that is if fine consists of uncomfortable silence and forced conversation. It was as if you’d forgotten how to be alone with each other. Eleven years of constant company can make a couple forget how to be, well, a couple. With each passing day you could feel a divide. Rather than a lovely time of peace, a rift between you and Fred was growing strong, vast, and cold.

The first major fight happened just a day after the girls had left. One day and you were at each other’s throats. It would have been the twins’ second day of school, and house announcements had finally come around to family members.

“Freddie!” you shouted from the front door, “The girls’ house announcements are here!”

“‘Bout bloody time!” he shouted as he ran down the stairs. He scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the couch. You gave him a quick kiss before settling opposite him and tearing open the letter.

Your excited expression quickly fell as you read. Fred looked at you expectantly. “Calliope Molly Weasley,” you began, “has been placed in Ravenclaw.” You looked up at Fred with a halfhearted smile.

“Can’t say I didn’t see that coming,” Fred chuckled, “why are you upset, love?”

“Not upset, just… puzzled.” You paused a moment before continuing. “Cassiopeia Ginevra Weasley has been placed in Gryffindor.” You looked up at Fred, this time with a genuine smile on your face. However, there were cracks in your visage, waiting to split upon his reaction.

“Yes!” he shouted, earning a puzzled glance from you. “Gryffindor! That’s my girl!” He was up from the couch, and quite literally, jumping with glee. However he faltered and paused for a moment. “Wait…” his words drew out from his mouth, as if the very sound disgusted him, “two separate houses?”

You looked up at him, unsure of how to precede. “Yeah,” you said just about a whisper. “I know it’ll be a tough adjustment, but if anyone can do it it’s our girls. I’m happy for them!” You were truly excited and extremely proud of your daughters, however you looked up and Fred didn’t seem to be sharing your feelings.

His face was flushed, save for a cherry red at the edges of his ears. He was breathing heavy, and honestly looked as if he was about to pass out. “Two… two,” he was stuttering in utter disbelief. “Two different houses,” he muttered as he brought himself to sit down on the chair next to the couch. His eyes were blank as he just stared straight ahead, incoherently muttering while he ran his hands through his hair. You only caught a few words in broken bits, which happened to be ‘twins’ ‘Gryffindor’ and ‘George’.

You stood up from your seat and crouched down next to him, gently rubbing his arm as you cocked an eyebrow up at him. He looked down at you, a shocked expression playing at his features. His face was contorted in such a way as if to perfectly convey his saying ‘why aren’t you shocked as well?’.

“Two different houses,” he repeated, this time clearly, “They’re in two different houses, y/n.”

“Okay,” you began, this time your turn to flash a look of confusion, “and? Fred, they’ll be fine. If anything, this will be good for them.” You stood up and looked down at him.

“Good?!” he gasped as if you’d just told him the Hollyhead Harpies lost the cup. “How in the world could this be good, y/n?” He rose to his feet and took your hands in his, searching your face for even an ounce of a shared feeling.

Because, Fred…” you began, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and scoff at him, “they’ve been attached at the hip for eleven years, some separation will do them well.”

“But they need each other, y/n!” He looked at you as if you had ten heads. “Twins need one and other!” He was shouting, whether he realised it or not you weren’t sure.

“No Fred,” you continued, now annoyed, “they don’t. It will be good for them. They’ll have different classes, different friends, different experiences. They’ll get to make a life for themselves that isn’t dependent on each other! How in the world could you say this is bad!?” By the end, you were yelling… intentionally.

“But they need each other!” He repeated the same sentiment once again, still flashing the wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression of shock.

“I’m not having this argument if that’s all you can say, Weasley,” you did scoff this time and started to walk away when he finally spoke a different word.

“Y/n, wait.” He was rubbing his face with his hands. You walked back over to him and gave him a look that quite clearly showed how perturbed you were. He was shaking his head, almost holding back a laugh. “I know you don’t understand, love,” he began, noticing the expression of amused anger that played at your features, “but twins have a special… connection.” It was taking everything in you to not bust out laughing. “Especially at that young, I don’t know if they can handle this much separation being thrown at them all at once. I mean Georgie and I probably only survived Hogwarts because we had each other.”

Poor choice of words, Weasley. “Only because you had each other?” you spat.

Fred nodded his head innocently, not yet realising his mistake.

“Just the two of you? Not me? Not your girlfriend that you had for the majority of school?” You were yelling, genuinely hurt by his words.

“Merlin, y/n, you know that not what I meant!” he shouted back, a culmination of the misunderstanding and his confusion of the whole situation.

“No, Fred, I didn’t! I mean, when you’re sitting here rambling about twins and nonsense, how am I meant to think I was included in your distorted memory of Hogwarts?!”

“Y/n,” he began, cautiously even if he was still shouting, “I was just trying to tell you how important a sibling bond is! Especially that of twins! I mean, what’s wrong with you!”

You looked up at him, shocked and even more hurt, yet the daft idiot kept going.

“I know you don’t understand because your one brother is dead and the other you don’t even speak to!” He continued yelling, but stopped abruptly as his words, and immediately softened, “Y/n, I-”

Tears streamed down your face in a disparaging mix of emotions. “Save it, Fred. At least our girls won’t be living the fucked up utopia that you and George did! Constantly attached and only living for each other! At least they’ll have a sense of independence and can learn to grow apart from each other! Which… if you haven’t noticed… if something you and George never did!” You didn’t even give him a chance to speak, you just ran upstairs and slammed the bedroom door behind you.

***

Never, ever go to bed angry. That fight was two weeks ago, and you still hadn’t fully recovered. Everytime you tried to bring it up to Fred, you were met with dodgy glances and fleeting responses. However, the two of you tried to carry on as normal with kisses, cuddles, and date nights. So now, two weeks without the girls, and you were dreading what was still to come. You sat up from the couch, slowly waking up from your nap, interest piqued by the lovely smells coming from the kitchen. You made your way to the kitchen where you found Fred cooking dinner. “Hi, love,” you muttered, still groggy.

“Hi, darling,” he responded, kissing your head as you walked past. “Date night,” he chirped, sounding only slightly interested. You just hummed in response. He nodded his head and went back to the pot before him as you took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

“What’s for dinner, love?” you asked Fred.

“Oh, your favorite,” he said, turning and smiling at you. You only cocked an eyebrow in response. “Look, y/n, I feel bad. I messed up and then wouldn’t bother talking about it cause it was easier to ignore it than confront the issue. I’m sorry.” A blush crept on his face as he looked down at you, clearly slightly on edge.

“Thank you, Freddie. Means a lot.” You returned the smile up at him. “So,” you began, standing up and heading over to his place at the stove, wrapping an arm around his waist, “Lancashire stew, is it?” You smiled at him and looked down, peering into the pot. Your expression quickly fell to confusion as your gaze was met by a thick, orange substance.

“Um, no…” he drew out slowly, “pumpkin soup?” His words were more of a question than anything. “Your favorite dinner. Pumpkin soup.”

You removed your arm and turned to look up at him. Your mouth opened slightly as you flashed an incredulous look at him. “Fred I bloody hate pumpkin soup.”

“What?” He turned to you, utterly baffled.

“It has to be my least favorite thing in all of Wizardom. In fact, I hate anything pumpkin. Taste changed when I was pregnant, hated it ever since,” you expression quickly turned sullen and defeated. “Fred, you knew this.”

He looked down at you, mouth agape, unable to speak.

“Whatever,” you muttered, walking away. “Wouldn’t have expected you to remember anyway.”

“Y/n, wait,” he said, voice tense and clearly agitated. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well it seems that you’re at the store more and more, Fred,” you sighed. “I mean, how many times have I come home for the day, and you stay at the store for hours more?” You weren’t angry, just… tired. “You know what?” you began, “It’s okay, Freddie. I love you”

“No, y/n. I should have known that.” He was staring down at you, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I have to be at the store to provide for us, love.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” you stated, “Sometimes you’re home long after the store would’ve closed. Besides, Fred, we make plenty of money and you know that. You’d rather be with your toys than me.”

His heart broke. Seeing you so sad and defeated. Yet he couldn’t help the wave of hurt that came over him. “Toys?”, he asked.

“I mean that’s what everything in there is, isn’t it?” You crossed your arms, staring him up and down.

“Y/n, you helped create half those products.” He cocked an eyebrow down at you, genuinely not sure if you meant what you had said.

“Sure, Fred, because it’s a business. I don’t spend hours obsessing over it. I don’t spend hours testing and trying everything every day. I don’t spend hours thinking up products that probably won’t even make it to the shelf! I,” you paused, voice breaking, “I don’t spend more time in my store than I do with my husband.” Tears streamed down your face freely now, and you collapsed into Fred’s arms.

“Is that how you really feel?” Fred murmured, guiding you over to the couch. You just nodded your head in response, trying to choke back a sob. “Love, I-... I’m sorry.” There was a long moment of silence. Him holding you in his arms, shaking and sobbing as his own tears flowed as well. “I was never trying to be neglectful, y/n. Please, please know that. I… I just needed to get away I suppose. I mean not from you of course. Just… my mind. Being there with George, and sometimes alone, actually. I’d be distracted, focused on the store or a product, and not thinking,” he sighed, and the weight that came off his shoulders was almost tangible.

“But why was I not enough,” you whispered. “Why couldn’t I distract you? Be there for you?”

He took a deep breath in before continuing. “Cause you’re a reminder, y/n.”

“Fred, what?”

“They look just like you, act like you, sound like you. Everytime I look like you, I see our girls. And, and it’s not just that y/n. I haven’t felt happy lately.” You looked up at him, a mixture of confusion and dread spreading across your face. “Not… not with our marriage. That’s… fine. I just… I don’t know,” his voice grew quiet and slow. He took a deep breath in, shaking as he went. “I just feel different, and I don’t know why. It’s not the same and I’m not… handling it, y/n.” He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. He pulled you into him closely, not letting go for anything.

“Well let’s change that, Freddie,” you turned and looked up at him. You were met with his puffy, tear stained face adorned with a cocked eyebrow and upturned nose. “We’ll do something we can have fun and enjoy doing. Some of these rooms could use a new coat of paint.”

He gave you a soft smile, appreciative of your efforts. “Painting it is, then.” He stretched out to lay down on the couch, pulling you with him. The two of you drifted off into a relaxed sleep after a while, forgetting any responsibilities and settling in the feeling of normalcy… a connection that had been missing for weeks.

***

Fred groaned as he rolled over, waking up to the early morning sunshine flooding in through the window. He was met with cold sheets and an empty bed. He stood up, rubbing his eyes and stumbling into his slippers. He had a good morning stretch and wandered downstairs. He was met with you, standing at the bottom of the steps, staring up at him with bright eyes and a big smile.

“Morning, love,” you said bounding over to him and jumping into his arms.

“Hey, y/n,” he said, chuckling lightly. He hugged you and wandered into the kitchen, where you already had his tea ready for him. “What’s this about, love?”

“Well,” you began, taking a seat across from him, “I figured we could paint today.”

He gave you a warm smile as he sipped his tea, fully waking up. After a while he stood, placing his hands on your hips. He looked down at you, smiling before placing a warm, sweet kiss on your lips. You reciprocated, humming into his touch. You separated and took a step back, staring up at your husband. Everything felt right, whole, complete for the first time in weeks.

You guided him into the living room where you had the paints and supplies set up. “Well, here it is!” you chirped excitedly.

He chuckled, crouching down to examine the paints. “Which rooms are we doing, love?”

“I was thinking the kitchen, living room, and the front hallway.”

He nodded in approval, turning one of the jars over in his hands. His face contorted, features pinched tightly together. “Grey?” he asked, sounding perturbed and confused at the same time.

“Yeah…” you responded, turning an eyebrow at him.

“Beige?” he asked, lip upturned in disgust.

“Yes, Fred, what’s the issue?”

“So… boring,” he finally looked up at you, face shifted as if he smelled a horrible scent. “These aren’t real colors, y/n.”

“Real colors?” you chuckled, “pretty sure they are, Freddie.” You grabbed the grey and got to work on the living room wall.

“Wait,” he said, standing to meet you, “I mean no green, no red, not even a blue?”

“These are mature and modern, Fred. There’s nothing sophisticated about a primary color.

He scoffed at you, “Y/n we could have done an emerald green, and muted bluish grey, even a deep maroon. I’m not asking for Gryffindor red, here. But I’d rather not be suffocated by despair in my own home if that’s alright.”

“Bit over dramatic if you ask me, Fred,” you murmured, continuing your painting.

He rolled his eyes and got to work with the beige in the kitchen. After a while of heavy silence, his pettiness took over. “Hey, y/n,” he called out, walking over to you.

“Hmm?” You responded, now focused on the front hallway. He crossed over to the finished living room wall, holding up in paintbrush. “I think this grey is a bit too flashy, don’t you think, love?” You turned and looked at him just as he spread a stripe of beige onto the fresh, grey wall. “This dull enough for you?” He flashed an indignant look before smirking and returning to his work.

You stood there, mouth agape, not sure how to react. So, doing what any reasonable adult would do, you walked over to him and painted a grey stripe on his beige wall. He just rolled his eyes and kept going, unfazed. You huffed and walked away, leaving him smirking.

***

Over the next weeks the tension between you and Fred continued to grow. Every day there was either a petty spat, or an exchanged that would leave one of you defeated and disappointed.

One day you were in Wizarding Paris gathering some supplies and Fred decided to plan a surprise for your return. You came home to a trail of red rose petals from the doorway into the center of the house, where whole roses were tossed about and Fred was standing in a suit with soft music in the background. You were absolutely enamored, until he made the comment, “I know red roses are your favorite, so I had mother help me gather as many as we could find.”

You stood hesitating for a moment, “Fred my favorite is a peach rose, not red.” You stared up at him, tears from a mix of joy and sadness pricking at your eyes, “Fred they were our wedding flowers.” You tried to brush it off and enjoy the night, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you and Fred were starting to lose touch. The night ended with him getting upset over you not enjoying the surprise and not being appreciative of his efforts, even when he tried.

Another time you and Fred were in the store, planning for the release of a collaborative collection with Madam Malkins. You had rescheduled a development meeting without telling him, hoping to get some of your designs past Fred. This led to months of sly, petty plays between the two of you. Whether it be one of you not showing up to work, or not restocking a product, or not counting the days galleons, you and Fred were finding new ways to mess with each other.

The new, dangerous dynamic finally came to a head just before the girls would be returning for Christmas break. You were in the backyard gardens, tending to the various year-round plants and dusting snow off of the decor. Unbeknownst to you, Fred was creeping up behind you, a snowball in hand. He tried to hold in a laugh as he hurled the snowball, hitting you square in the back.

“Fred!”, you shrieked, turning to face him. Your face was beat red as your nostrils flared.

He was laughing until he saw your face. “Merlin, love, did I hurt you?”

“What? No. But what the bloody hell was that for?”, you helped, throwing your arms up in question at him.

“I-... it’s… snowball fight?” He rubbed his hands together, both out of nerves and a defense against the cold.

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath as you turned back to your work.

“You know what?”, he began in a terse tone that compelled you to face him once again. “Enough, y/n. I’ve had enough.”

“Pardon?”

“I miss having fun, y/n! We used to be a happy and fun couple! We went out with friends, we got into trouble! We. Had. Fun! And now we live in this… this fucking charade! Are we even happy with each other?!” He yelled, face growing increasingly red as he turned and went inside.

You followed him in, slamming the door behind you. “Having fun!?”, you retorted, screaming as well, “Fred, you git, we’re thirty five years old with two kids!! There is no fun anymore, just parenting and real life shit!”

“And that’s exactly what’s wrong, y/n!” he yelled back, “This horrible attitude! Ever since you had those kids you’ve… changed! Changed into someone I don’t even recognize anymore!” Tears began to stream down his face at the utterance of his final sentence.

His words made you cry as well. “Those kids?! Fred Weasley they are your daughters, too! And think about how I feel! The fact that you haven’t changed! You’re still witty and crafty and energetic, and Fred I just can’t keep up with you anymore!! We aren’t in Hogwarts anymore, our children are, so you need to drop this childish attitude and fast!”

“What about our entire relationship that was built on wit and energy and childish fun?!”, he shot back, voice breaking, “All of the jokes and laughter, doesn’t that mean anything to you anymore!?? It’s what bonds us together, and now you just want to leave it behind like it isn’t what made us fall in love!”

“Are we even in love anymore?! I loved you for your wit and intelligence and creativity, yes, but those can be applied elsewhere! Stop acting like a child and act like the adult you’re supposed to be!” “You aren’t my partner in crime anymore. You aren’t the same woman I fell in love with. I want a divorce.” And with that he apparated away into the succumbing abandon of the wizarding world.

@it-was-three-am @hess016

(If you’re name isn’t linked, it means I couldn’t tag you! Message me to find out why!)

#HP #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley series #fred weasley angst #marriage story

65 notes · View notes

breyito · 4 years

Text

the sharp edges of a flower

TITLE: the sharp edges of a flower

AUTHOR/ARTIST: @breyito (read also on AO3)

PROMPT DAY : Day 3- Protection for @geraskierweek

SUMMARY: Three times Jaskier protected Geralt without him knowing it.

WORD COUNT: ~1.8 k

BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Netflix show

TRIGGERS/WARNINGS: Angst, but mostly not. Hurt/Comfort. Violence, a bit.

RATING: Teen and up

ADDITIONAL NOTES: I wanted to do a 5+1, but it would never be finished, so I cut it here. I *might* write the rest, but I don’t make any promeses. Some fluff to balance the angst of yesterday lol. Tho the last one went away from me a bit and ended sad again. Sorry ñ.ñ Btw, I do like Yennefer, I just think the relationship between her and Geralt makes no sense. I think she knows what she wants and she can be very selfish (no hate there, so can I) but she's not good for Geralt, so... Oh! The two firsts are in the early stages of their relationship, the third in between those last years. I intended to do a couple more in the middle (and might, maybe, perhaps) so that it would flow better but...

Enjoy!

Jaskier is at the bar, flirting with a lovely lady in a break in his set, when something catches his attention. He overhears a drunkard happily proclaiming that one of the patrons of the tavern is going to poison the Witcher's drink; to see if they really are inmune to such things, as myth and rumours go.

Geralt is upstairs, still cleaning his armor (the bard had stayed until the man was clean, but the menial tasks of leather and sword mantainance were not something he cared for much); so he can't know what will happen when he comes down to have his earned supper.

Jaskier has learned by now that, unless this is a specialized poison Made by a mage, it won't kill the Witcher. It doesnt mean it won't hurt him, though. Humilliate him in front of the townspeople if he gets sick; which is no doubt one of the reasons why every one of the men in the table of this drunkard is laughing; and why the older barmaid is going along with it.

So, instead of causing a scene, he launches into another song; pulling all the barmaids to dance, spinning them around as he marches them to their tables.

He makes sure to spill a little bit of the poison he stashes in one of his rings in all the tankards going to that table (one of the cheapest ones, and a small enough dose that it shouldn't kill, just make them spend their coin in a healer instead of more beer) and distracts the old and bitter barmaid so that the poisoned drink ends in his hand.

If he gets pushed and ends up spilling the liquid over the man eagerly watching the Witcher drink his ale...

Well, he makes sure to act surprised and scared when the man's skin starts to sizzle and burn.

(The Witcher from then on insists on sniffing all the drinks he orders, in case somebody tries to poison the bard again; which causes Jaskier to melt a little, as well as laugh a bit on the inside).

He can see the way people are looking at the Witcher.

And it's allright, perhaps his song about the noble White Wolf has not gotten to this nowhere-town in the middle of this nowhere-kindom yet. But they needed the coin and the people here need a monster slain; so they keep their hate quiet and throw their glares just at their backs, instead of at their faces.

But Jaskier knows how to read a crowd; and he knows that if Geralt stops at the inn they are staying at before he goes to collect his payment they will be run out of town with hateful words and the promise of violence (that happened once, just once; because Jaskier promised himself that as long as he was by the Witcher's side it wouldn't happen again) and no payment. He knows that the people of this town believe themselves to be as important as the capital of their kingdom; despite the fact that Ard Carraigh was a few towns and villages away yet. And they had no problem following their King’s policies against non-humans; which was bad but not much different than in other places, like Cintra and the like. Usually though, those policies didn’ extend towards Witchers; but in this particular town they did. So Jaskier, while Geralt left on his own on a week long and dangerous hunt (not even taking Roach!), separated himself as much as possible from the Witcher, charming people left and right.

He plays people's favorites and requests: ballads about romance and heroic deeds, plays the joyful tunes that make patrons drink more and be more giving; and only mixes in a song about his muse per performance, when he has enough coin at his feet to at least pay for supper and a few other things.

He buys cured meats and dried fruits and stores up on flat bread and hard cheeses, vegetables and fats; flirts on with the market people (pretty lads and shy girls; amused mature women and harsh old ladies) and gets wine, soaps and candies for a lower price, and not double or triple like they would have demanded of the Witcher. It makes him a little sick; to flirt and smile at people that would spit on his friend's face; but he thinks that while this time he won't be able to provide Geralt with a soft bed he will at least be able to give him these little luxuries, and that is worth it; so he keeps at it.

When he hears the firsts whispers of the Witcher on his way back; he packs all of their stuff and saddles Roach after bribing her with some stolen apples (the vendor had tried to get him into his bed while insulting Geralt, so he had apologized profusely, citing a previous appointmet, while he snuck the best fruits for the mare, a big fake smile plastered on his face) and marches her down to the Alderman's house. Geralt sees him there and stops, and before the Witcher can get mad at him for touching his horse he starts to babble about sleeping with the butcher's daughter and the butcher's wife and the need to flee the town before he is found and butchered in a goresome fashion.

Geralt grumbles and curses him for the lack of a proper bath to get the filth of the hunt off him; but goes into the Aldermans house to get his coin anyways. He comes out, pouch in hand and mounts Roach and they leave.

He helps the witcher wash off in a stream later, under the warm sun; and it's paceful. He's gentle as he uses the sage soap he bought for the delicate nose of the man, and as he cleans then combs the silver hair with the same care he shows his previous lute. He insists the Witcher rests the rest of the day; to sleep. Then, when Geralt wakes up, Jaskier insists he uses the free time to clean his armor and blades, instead of packing up and setting camp again in a few hours. He uses the vegetables and some meat to make a sturdy stew as a treat; and snares and roasts two rabbits for dinner. If he lets Geralt believe he does all of this as a way to pay him back, well...that is his bussines and his bussines alone.

(The butcher had no daughter and had no wife. Because there was no butcher in this town.)

He protects Geralt from Yennefer once, incredibly. The Witcher is on a hunt (a nest of kikimoras and a new queen, so the bard stayed behind but the horse went along) when the witch shows up at the one tavern the bard happens to be performing at, of all the taverns in the whole city. It has been only three months since the last time they encountered her (and Gerlat has barely started to let him touch him with gentleness when he’s not injured, has just begun relaxing his shoulders and giving that barely-there smile of his that is so endearing Jaskier could die of tenderness) so Jaskier ends his set, finishes his drink like a shot and sits in front of her, and bluntly asks her what does she want to leave before the Witcher comes back.

The mage is amused and surprised; so she plays his game. She tells him she wants the silver dagger that the Witcher gave him a few years ago, for protection. She knows the emotional value that it has, she has seen how the bard sharpens it and always has it on him. She also knows its one of the only gifts the Witcher ever gave the bard, and how the bard cherises it.

He swallows but doesn’t hesitate to reach for the sheat and put the dagger on the table between them. Yennefer is surprised but smiles anyways, and starts to gently caress the blade; and mockingly asks how he will explain the loss of something so precious. Jaskier tells her that that’s not her problem, but if she wants to know; he will say he got attacked and defended himself, and the attacker left with the dagger still inside them. She laughs at his story, asks if he thinks the Witcher will buy it. Jaskier answers yes.

The mage then asks why he would part with this gift, when he surely knows they will just meet in another few weeks or moths; because at this point they all agree that whatever the Witcher and the Witch have between them is inescapable. He says that Geralt is not healed yet, that he needs a little more time before he’s ready for her to empty and crash his heart again. She flinches at this assesment; and when she tries to say that she loves him; Jaskier responds that she loves him because she knows she can use him and discard him and he will still be there the next time.

She waits a moment then asks, sickly sweet, that it’s the same way Geralt treats him, is it not? The bard laughs bitterly, but explains the difference: Yennefer knows Geralt will be there and does the things she does because of this; Geralt does it because he’s still testing him, because he doesn’t think Jaskier will still be there, believes he doesn’t deserve it. So how can the bard hold it against him; when it’s people like her that made him believe he’s unworthy of love and devotion?

The war of looks makes the place spark with tension, and even the most drunk of patrons is mostly quiet. Yennefer knows her eyes are swirling with chaos, yet the poet doesn’t back down, keeps looking and looking and looking at her. His eyes are determined, even as tears escape and his lashes shiver. He doesn’t look away. Eventually, she does. She grabs the dagger and stands up, leaving.

Jaskier is lucky Geralt is dizzy with blood loss and too many potions when he comes back; because even though he washed and changed clothes the man can still smell the fucking lilac; and it’s easier to spin a lie about the gorgeous perfume seller and the dagger that is still in the side of her brother when the Witcher’s senses are not at their best. It’s also easier to deal with the dissapoinment in the men’s eyes when the other is delirious and won’t smell his tears.

(The next time they meet the mage in a town she gives him a barely-there nod before she focuses all her attention on the Witcher. Jaskier still turns around and rents a room in the rundown inn at the other side of the town. He never sees his dagger again.)

#netflix witcher #2020 geraskier week #fanfiction #day 3 protection #the witcher #feral jaskier

69 notes · View notes

jamieaiken919 · 4 years

Note

hi im the NiDe anon- probably primis but I’m not picky 🥺 I’ll literally take anything this ship is nonexistent

HELLO HI I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG TO FIGURE OUT I PROMISE I DIDNT FORGET ABOUT YOU

So for today’s extremely long winded Thought From a Thot- I started out not sure what to do for Tank/Nikolai, but then it grew a mind of its own and HERE HAVE A WHOLE ASS BACKSTORY. There are some headcanons in here, but they’re kind of mixed throughout, lol. I’m so sorry if all this isn’t exactly what you were looking for, but I really hope you like it!!! (Also- I typed this all up in the notes app on my phone, but for shits and giggles I threw this into a document to see how long it actually is- OVER 1300 WORDS)

Also also for some god forsaken reason I can’t figure out how to put this behind a cut on this stupid app SO HERES THE LONG HAUL

So, let’s start by looking at the boys themselves-

Nikolai, very obviously and very understandably, is an incredibly damaged man. We know that he never fully recovered from the loss of his wife, and that his devotion to her never faltered, even after she was gone. I think that after her death, he likely would have tried to shut out any kind of romantic feelings that cropped up. Logical or not, he feels as if it’s somehow disrespectful to her and to her memory.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we know that Tank is a little bit of a womanizer. He typically would only seek out one night stands, rather than anything meaningful or long lasting. It’s just the life of a Marine, he tells himself- you can’t settle down if you’ve got no place to settle, and it’s easier to just not get attached, especially when it presents the chance that he would have to leave and potentially never see them again.

Once the two meet, Tank takes notice of Nikolai’s sadness immediately. “Why’re you so sad, Nikolai? Even when I hear you yelling in the heat of battle, I can’t help feeling there’s something wrong.” Nikolai initially brushes him off, intent on keeping his past to himself and himself alone. But as the group gets stuck with each other, and as they all get to know each other, he decides that Tank is someone he can trust with telling about the things he’s suffered in his life. And surprisingly enough to him, Tank actually sits and listens. That’s when he gains an immediate respect for him.

Nikolai catches feelings first. It’s on a night where he volunteers to stay up for watch- normally the four of them take turns, but that night was one where he knew he likely wouldn’t be able to sleep in the first place. As he’s sitting at the edge of their encampment, wherever they may be, he hears something approach him. But he knows the gait of his ally, and isn’t surprised in the slightest when Tank sits down next to him. They share a friendly conversation- talking about how Takeo absolutely shredded a hoard with nothing but his katana, about their mutual distrust of the voices in Edward’s head, etc- until Nikolai feels a weight against his side. He looks over to see Tank, passed the hell out and leaning with his head on his shoulder, and immediately Nikolai’s brain starts going “oh god oh fuck what is this why feels happen WHAT”. It’s a feeling he hasn’t experienced in so long that at first he thinks he’s going mad, but then he remembers exactly how it felt when he married his wife. That rush of the heart, the wild emotions, feelings that he thought he had locked away and buried all come rushing back to him.

It’s another few days before Tank actually realizes that something’s changed in their dynamic. No one would ever accuse Tank of being a genius, but once he pays attention he’s actually quite observant. Which is why, when he sees Nikolai being particularly short with the others (more than usual, anyway), when he catches him watching out for him more than the others, when he notices the little glances that Nikolai throws his way when he thinks he can’t see, he finally puts two and two together. He’s seen enough soldiers writing letters home to their girls with that exact same look on their faces to know exactly what it means.

It’s another night when Nikolai takes the night watch that things end up happening between them. Nikolai is out stewing in his thoughts, as is his wont, when he hears that familiar gait behind him again. Tank asks him straight up if there’s anything he wants to tell him, and at first Nikolai refuses. It’s only when Tank sits down directly in front of him- where Nikolai can’t avoid looking at him- that Nikolai finally just spits it out. That somewhere along the line the camaraderie and friendship that formed between them has morphed into him feeling something deeper, something that he never thought he would feel again or allow himself to feel again, that he thinks himself a fool because there’s no room for love in a time and place like the one they’re in-

And Tank shuts him up by grabbing him and kissing him.

Nikolai is so surprised by it that he’s still trying to talk for a few seconds before he realizes exactly what’s happening. He’s so dumbfounded that he just kind of sits there and let’s it happen, before Tank pulls away and makes some kind of witty quip. “Now that I know how to shut ya up, I’ll have to do it more often.” Tank isn’t insensitive though; he knows how much Nikolai has struggled and he knows just how strong his feelings have to be in order for him to even admit to them. So he reassures him that he’s open to whatever happens, and that he’ll never do anything to hurt his heart more than its already been hurt. It’s a step forward for Tank as well- mister non-commitment actually committing to someone, but he’s willing to give it a shot. After all, what more do they have if not each other?

At first they keep things quiet, which is both relatively easy and extremely difficult. Much of their time is taken up by fighting the undead, so they’re able to keep themselves occupied with that and not with each other. It’s moments when things are calm that give them trouble. It’s difficult to find anyplace that offers some semblance of solitude, especially when the group has to stick together for protection purposes. It’s typically when one of them has their turn as watch during the night that they’re able to sneak off and discover their new relationship. Edward and Takeo are none the wiser, until one of them (probably Takeo) happens to get up in the night. He’s up stretching his legs when he happens to spot the couple, and he only has to watch them for a brief moment before he realizes what’s going on between them. Despite that knowledge, he respects their privacy, keeping it to himself until they’re ready to be open about it with himself and Edward. poor Eddie always left in the dark lol

I imagine they’d be forced to be open about it when Tank does something particularly reckless and stupid one day, and Nikolai panics just a bit more than a friend would. Tank insists to him that he’s fine, but Nikolai rushes over and wraps him in the tightest hug he can, mumbling something about how he never wants to see him act so carelessly again. Both Edward and Takeo are stunned at seeing the display of affection so clearly, even though Takeo already knew. There’s definitely a conversation that takes place between the four of them later that night, lol. But now that things are out in the open, they can be a little more free with each other, something that takes a huge weight off both of them.

Tank is usually the one to initiate any kind of physical affection, whether it be holding hands, kisses, or going further. It’s not that Nikolai doesn’t want to- he does- but he’s still unsure of himself, especially being with another man when all he knew was his wife. Tank is very patient with him, because he understands the uncertainty that Nikolai is feeling. He always reassures him that he wants him, and that he’ll give him as much time as he needs to be fully comfortable. And eventually Nikolai does ease, and they’re able to show affection freely back and forth.

Tank always used to comment on how morose Nikolai was, but now that they’re together, he notices smiles coming to the Russian’s face more and more. And it’s something he loves to see.

#anonymous #asks #answers #thought from a thot #tank dempsey #nikolai belinski #call of duty zombies #cod zombies #codz

16 notes · View notes

toodi-imagines · 7 years

Note

So I got an idea while playing call of duty lol imagine 2Ds s/o playing cod, but him not knowing and them screaming things like "yes!" And "oh my god" and he thinks they're cheating only to find them playing 😂 (some fluff or nsfw either is fine)

rip the only cod game I’ve ever played is ghost and I only played it like one time so we’ll see how this goes

You stared wide-eyed into the tv screen in the as you furiously pressed buttons on your Xbox controller. Murdoc, who was seated next to you, was little to no help—seeing as he hardly knew which buttons to press. “FUCKING HELL, MURDOC,” you screeched at him as the other team annihilated you. “You were supposed to be the lookout!” you hissed as your character rebooted. “My controller’s broken!” he whined back at you. You shot him a glance and raised your eyebrows before sighing and pausing the game to explain (for the eighth time) how to play. Murdoc’s eyebrows were still furrowed together in confusion as he held the controller limply in his hand. “Okay just follow my lead and shoot who I tell you to, okay?” you directed before unpausing. Just as you began engaging in combat, you heard the front door unlock and creak open. Stu must be home you rationalized in your head before attempting to call out to him. However, your attention was quickly diverted back to the game—cutting your greeting short—as you realized you had managed to single-handedly ward off the enemy team. “Fuck! YES!” You cheered, nearly jumping out of your seat. However, precisely at that moment, you noticed Murdoc grumbling and stewing beside you, and you realized that he had died in combat…again. “Oh. my. god. Murdoc!” you patronized. He opened his mouth to protest but he was cut off by an exclamatory “FUCK” from you as you realized that there were still more players to fight—and they were coming your way. Murdoc was taking an abnormally long amount of time to reboot and, meanwhile, you were nearly dead trying to fight alone. “Muds! I need you now!” you shouted in vain. “I’m coming!” He shouted back as his player finally finished rebooting. Suddenly, you heard the door slam open behind you. The two of you abandoned your game and spun around to face a confused 2D rubbing his hand from from slamming the door with such force. “Hey Stu…” you greeted him a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Wha’ were yew two just…” he trailed off taking in the scene of the bright flashing of the tv and the controllers in each of your hands. “We were playing cod..Are you okay?” You questioned right before realization hit you. “YOU THOUGHT WERE–” you were cut off by your own laughter. Murdoc looked confused for a moment as well until he caught on and a mischievous grin spread across his face. 2d stood motionless in the doorway, a look of concern still darkening his expression. “D, we were just shouting about the video game, nothing happened.” You said, easing his fear. You knew about Murdoc’s history of interfering with 2D’s relationships, and suddenly you felt sorry for worrying him like that. You stood and paused the game, walking solemnly over 2D staring blankly back at you—clearly trying to hide a flurry of emotions. You took both of his hands in yours and looked up at him. “Stuart Pot,” you began affirmingly, “I will never ever do anything to hurt you. You’re the only one I want. I love you, you doofus.” You said firmly, giving his hands a small squeeze. For a second, doubt flickered across his face but he squeezed your hands back anyway and whispered “I love you too.” The two of you embraced as Murdoc groaned from the couch and grumbled something about “ooey gooey poetry shit” and stalked out to find something more interesting to do with his time. “You know…now that he’s gone…I can show you just how much I love you…” you said, tracing your index finger down his chest. And with that, Stuart was yours.

#gorillaz imagines #gorillaz #2d gorillaz #2d imagine

46 notes · View notes

disabilitythinking · 7 years

Text

Disability & Food: Results and Conclusions

120 people completed my online Disability & Food survey. That's a pretty good number, and the final results look pretty much the same as they have looked all along, which suggests they aren't just random. I don't know that I have any stunning conclusions, but let's see the results and explore what they might mean.

Question 1 "How often do you have the following kinds of meals?"

Results:

Home prepared and cooked (strongly weighted) Cooked and prepared by someone else Frozen dinners Home delivery or take-out Eating out at restaurants School, college, or workplace cafeteria Meal kits by mail Meals provided in a residential facility

Respondent comments:

Home prepared once & ate for a few days like lasagna- often

Eat what's ready: fruit, chips, etc. Also try to cook batch like soup, stew, etc that'll last for days. I forget to eat & cooking for 1 when can only eat 1/2 cup at a time takes more energy & pain than it's worth.

I live alone.

Medical Formula, by mail

I work at a restaurant and very often scrounge from food orders that were messed up or good that is made specifically for the crew to eat. Plus I get an employee discount. But then there are days when I am too tired mentally/physically or in too much pain to expend energy making something myself. I really need to invest in a good delivery service. Recently I've invested in a business that will send you meal cups in the mail (like 24 at a time) and you just need to add water. I got them thru Amazon. I know I spend too much money on eating out but it often simplifies things, as well as cleanup.

My partner does the cooking now that my physical health has deteriorated further.

The majority of what I eat is probably "snack" food. My condition uses up a lot of salt, so I eat a lot of salty potato chips and gatorade. Otherwise it's stuff I can either open up and eat directly (cheese sticks, canned olives, jerky, etc) or stuff that requires a quick zap in the microwave (pre-cooked sausages, gluten-free corn dogs, leftovers from a restaurant, etc)

I am celiac, so I prepare most of my own food so that I do not get gluten-ed.

I frequently eat shelf-stable food that doesn't need to be refrigerated because I know that sometimes I won't be able to leave my room. So I stock up on things like granola bars and beef jerky a lot of the time.

What I can and can't eat, and thus how my food must be processed and prepared, is a huge part of my disability. I eat "frozen dinners" and packets of things I can heat in the microwave, but they all have to be prepared in my home from scratch, a few exceptions of specific brands of things in cans or boxes.

Only recently started cooking at home so much -- started treatment for my undiagnosed ADHD in November at age 45. Now I can more easily plan to cook and get the right items purchased in advance, and make time to prepare it. I've wasted a lot of emotions and food over the years on good intentions and poor implementation.

Refrigerated, microwaveable meals Microwaveable boxed pantry meals

i mostly eat food that i get from the grocery store and that comes out of the package edible... like bread. or fruit. everything else, i cannot prepare

I get the majority of my groceries via grocery delivery service. I assumed that counts as home delivery but wasn't sure. That being said, while I do my own cooking, my mobility tends to dictate how elaborate my meal will be. Not that my meals are really that elaborate lol but how much spoon / labor will be involved. For an example, my kitchen is not fully wheelchair accessible, and so if I want to reach certain cabinets etc., I need to be able to get up out of my chair. So there are times, I just don't have access to certain foods in my kitchen and will eat whatever I can reach. For this reason, I very very rarely use the stove. Me and the oven are BFFs though lol

Thoughts:

I was surprised to see home preparation and cooking pretty far in the lead. I guess I assumed that disabled people would be less likely to do their own home cooking than most.

If you look a little deeper, you see that even though home cooking came out on top, only 40% say they do it all or most of the time, and most respondents seem to rely on a roughly even mix of home cooking, cooking done by someone else, frozen dinners, and delivery / take-out.

Several respondents note in their comments that they rely heavily on home cooking because of very specific dietary needs related to their disabilities. This is a wrinkle that I had not anticipated at all, probably because I have never had any health or allergy-related food restrictions myself. Nor am I a vegetarian. In fact, I've only recently started to think much at all about the quality or healthiness of my diet. I'm not sure if that's a privilege or a liability.

One thing that promoted me to set up this survey is the recent popularity ... at least in the media I consume ... of home delivered meal kit subscriptions, like Blue Apron and Hello Fresh. So, it's interesting that this option got the next to lowest score of the 8 options I offered. Maybe it's the high cost. For me, it's because the recipes all sound too fancy and hipster for my tastes. In all of the ads I've heard for these services, I have never yet heard a described recipe that sounded appetizing to me. Besides, they sound convenient, but probably still require a lot of labor before you can actually chow down.

Q2 Sources: "How often do you get your food from the following?"

Supermarkets (very strongly weighted) Someone else shops for you Delivery from online shopping sites Neighborhood markets or farmer's markets Convenience stores Delivery from local stores

Respondent comments:

I V fluids via medical supply

I interpreted 'online shopping sites' to include online supermarket ordering and delivery.

Where your questions only go down to almost never it's actually never which you haven't got

Protein powder online. Shopping is usually once a month. Buy to last. Maybe occasional trip out. Shopping is painful.

I shop for my own groceries.

Due to coordination, vision limitations I cannot use the apps/smartphone/do financial transactions on smartphone or computer, which prevents me from shopping online and most delivery places. I often go hungry as a result.

Grow my own food - very often

Local non chain shops, butcher, fishmonger , greengrocer ( fruit, veg & healthy groceries e.g.. GF products, ) good quality and locally grown organic produce etc quality breads, sheep/goat yoghurt etc.

The only money I have for buying groceries is my food stamps, so I'm very limited in where I can buy food. If I eat out it's always my partner paying.

I am celiac, so I prepare most of my own food so that I do not get gluten-ed.

Staff take him shopping

I live in a city with multiple food coops. I shop there most often, but no one store carries all the foods I need in a week. Food shopping involves stops at two to four stores a trip. I do not drive and public transport is inaccessible to me. I need rides for all of this.

Thoughts:

Supermarket shopping comes out on top, by a very wide margin. Again, that surprises me. I probably should have added a question or two about transportation and geography though. Most people consider supermarkets the best and most economical place to get groceries, but I wonder how many disabled people can't use them easily because they live in places without supermarkets and lack transportation to get to them.

The next two most heavily weighted categories ... someone shopping for you and takeout / delivery ... both rely on others, and probably also can be done without leaving home. These are the kinds of options that one would expect to be popular among disabled people. But again, they're not as heavily relied upon as one might conventionally predict.

Respondent comments bring up diet restrictions here, too, but also limited income and physical inaccessibility as factors that shape and restrict how people get their food supplies.

Q3 Disabilities: "Which category(s) best describe your type of disability? (check any that apply)"

97 with physical disabilities 51 with mental health disabilities 31 with sensory disabilities 20 with other cited disabilities 19 with cognitive disabilities 15 with learning disabilities

Respondent comments:

developmental disorder

Language

Severe food, environmental (including inhalant) allergies--often requiring hospitalization

Autism

Autism (unsure where to put that)

Eyes fatigue easily, and after many years of difficulty and little help due to invisibility of my disability (which is TBI) I am exhausted and don't h ave energy for interacting with others, constantly teaching, explaining etc. since no one understands.

chronic illness

In addition to mobility disability, have medical conditions affecting diet

hearing loss, food allergies

health disability, autistic

Autism, then not listed above- 1 of my kids is autistic, one has Down syndrome, both have anaphylactic food allergies, I have a medical concern that requires me to eat a totally different diet than my partner and kids

Visual

Autistic with sensory sensitivities, IBS, Coeliac, Lactose intolerant, Hypothyroidism, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Cancer survivor surviving radical surgery, heavy duty chemo, radiotherapies, Restless legs Syndrome, insomnia, and more, GAD

Food allergies play a major role in my eating/shopping habits

not sure where autism goes in here. also chronic illnesses

Chronic pain/traumatic brain injury

Autistic, and irritable Bowel Syndrome and PCOS. Not a fun combo.

Chronic illness- asthma

Medical conditions

Type 1 diabetes

Thoughts:

I probably should have included a few more disability types, since there is a lot of overlap and ambiguity among these very broad, generic categories ... particularly mental health, cognitive, and learning disabilities. I also wish I had added a chronic illness category for people with conditions that more readily fall into that category.

On the other hand, I think allowing people to choose more than one category means we get a pretty good picture of who is responding, and the vast majority of respondents had some kind of physical disabilities, sometimes along with others.

So?

Those are the survey results, in detail and summary. But what about my shopping and eating habits?

I do most of my grocery shopping online with delivery by mail. I order once a month. I've only been doing this for about 4 months though. Before that, I shopped at a supermarket about once a month, and picked up things at convenience stores here and there. Even though I drive, my shopping was definitely too irregular, physically difficult, and unnecessarily expensive.

Before I started grocery shopping online, my biggest problem was getting fresh fruit and vegetables, buying household supplies in bulk, and getting anything large or heavy ... like big bottles of milk, juice, or soda, or big bags of sugar (for my twice daily tea).

I eat frozen dinners about half the time. A quarter of the time I eat take-out, and another quarter is conventional home cooking.

Speaking of fruit ... and the mini-controversy last year about whether selling pre-cut or packaged fruit is wasteful or accessible ... I do buy pre-cut fruit and bagged salad, as well as large boxes of single-serve fruit cups.

http://www.npr.org/sections/thesalt/2016/03/07/469521879/pre-peeled-oranges-what-some-call-lazy-others-call-a-lifesaver

I often think about these new meal kits by mail services, but I never seriously consider them because they are expensive. And anyway, their big selling point seems to be that you don't have to worry about ingredients or portion sizes. I used to have that kind of problem, but at this point I know pretty much what I will and won't actually prepare and eat. For me it's not hard to figure out. But for others it might be more of a thing.

Conclusions:

I don't really have any, except for this:

If I had unlimited power and resources to make one radical change in American society, I sometimes think I would institute free public breakfast buffets. Two things make me think about this:

TV shows about the British upper class, where everyone just comes to the dining room in the morning and the servants have laid out a full range of breakfast foods on a big sideboard.

Motel chains that offer free breakfast.

My life would improve enormously if I could easily got to a big breakfast buffet every morning and just dish up a plate of whatever looked good. You could do the same thing with lunches or dinners, but for me, breakfast is the thing. I love breakfast food, but it tends to be labor intensive, and my body is at its worst in the morning. It's the time I need good food the most, and am least equipped to prepare it.

What new kinds of food or shopping services would improve your life and independence? What changes have you made in this area that have made a difference in your life? Are these strictly matters of individual planning and innovation, or are there larger-scale systemic changes that would be both feasible and helpful to disabled people?

Share more of your comments below! And thanks for helping with this survey!

#Survey

0 notes