#all those years i was denied this kind of freedom and i want to share it! because it makes me happy!

[cinnamon-phrog]

Had a Barbie Moment [realising how beautiful life is while sitting on a public bench]

#i'm going to document my lifes' findings #all those years i was denied this kind of freedom and i want to share it! because it makes me happy! #and i want to prove to people that happiness and living after being essentially locked away from society is in fact possible. #don't get me wrong it's hard. it hurts. it's scary. #but it's also beautiful and fun and so worth it. #i'm not talking about all that grand shit either. i'm talking about just sitting on a bench and feeding birds part of your sandwich. #picking out your own clothes that suit YOUR tastes [and budget] #even the silly tiny things like signing your returns reciept because something was too small. #i feel so much more important now and i deserve to talk about it regardless of whether people care or not. i care. #and i am so much happier- of course it has to be seen to be believed. but i am. #certainly more than i was at the start of the year. certainly more than i was last year. #the glamour might wear off but right now i'm just going to go around cautiously yet with a remarkable optimistic whimsy. #because yay!!! existence!!!!! being alive!!!! going outside!!!!!!!!! fuck you who said i couldn't!!!!!!!!!!!!! #🗨🐸

[j-l-kepler]

I Turned My BG3 Tavs into Fake Origin Characters

CUZ NOBODY'S STOPPED ME YET

So here I was, scrolling through the BG3 tag when I come across a fantastic BG3 Template made by the extraordinary @dvgsart! Couldn't mcfreakin' help myself, I tell you.

So I took my 5 active non-Durge playthroughs (3 of which are 2-Tav saves) and slapped them in! Had a blast doing this, I tell you. All the beautiful Tavs I keep seeing just make me wanna gush about my own silly Tavs. Life's too short to not have fun.

[Putting the ART and everything below the cut because this is gonna be loooooong and y'all should get to opt out]

Yeah okay maybe I've written Companion Guides for 6/7 of these guys. I've had a lot of time at work lately, okay.

I call these guys the Stacked Seven because all of them have massive badonkadonks and I'm in desperate need of a new hobby. I can't help the fact drawing tits is very fun and I am horrendously bisexual.

ANYWAY lil bit of preamble you can skip -- I based their stats and weapons on what they'd be as Companions or Origin runs, not what their actual in-game stats are. Romantic Partners / Besties / Weapons are who and what they'd probably default to if they were just in ya party. I also put them in their Companion fits, not their in-game fits. AIGHT LET'S KICK IT OFF, IN ORDER

Eckhart Markolac

The Infernal Twins

Ayyy it's my guy, you might've seen my guy before! We're starting off in familiar territory. Also he's the only twunk here. RIP.

Eckhart is one roguish half of the whole known as the infamous Markolac Twins. He and his sister Emerleigh have spent years of their lives dedicated to paying off a debt they owe to the Undercellar through smuggling, cons and other life-threatening crimes. Now that the Nautiloid has picked them up and dumped them a long ways away from the Gate, he's faced with the consequences of his actions and the kind of freedom he never expected to grasp in his lifetime.

Eckhart shares a companion quest with Emerleigh - get these tadpoles outta their skulls and get back to Baldur's Gate! But will he return to face his debtor, go on the run for the rest of his life, or forsake a future he doesn't think he's good enough for?

For those who haven't met my angst machine of a rogue, Eckhart is a sarcastic, witty and vaguely sleazy guy who's basically your classic rogue. He comes complete with a detached attitude, lower (but not too low) moral standards, and a heart of gold under layers and layers of self sabotage and emotional dysfunction. He's just bad at hiding it.

Eck and Em would be recruited at the exact same time, and their tadpoles would make it so they cannot live for very long without the other. How? Why? Because I don't wanna write a whole freaking branch where one of the twins dies and the other just has to deal with that. Game branch logic is HARD TO WRITE, DAMN YOU.

Emerleigh Markolac

The Infernal Twins

Heyyy girl, it's Em, it's my girl!

Emerleigh is one bardic half of the whole known as the infamous Markolac Twins. She and her brother Eckhart have spent years of their lives dedicated to paying off a debt they owe to the Undercellar through smuggling, cons and other life-threatening crimes. Now that the Nautiloid has picked them up and dumped them a long ways away from the Gate, she's more determined than ever to hold onto this newfound freedom... more terrified of returning than she ever thought she could be.

Emerleigh shares a companion quest with Eckhart - get these tadpoles outta their skulls and get back to Baldur's Gate! But will she return to face her debtor, go on the run for the rest of her life, or deny herself the future she so desperately wants for her and her brother?

If you haven't met Em, she's your classic dramatic bard who speaks in poetry, prose and academia! She's friendly, mischievous, and has so so so many things she hasn't given herself the space to contend with emotionally. She's a pretty lady used to having a perfect mask demanded of her, craving a chance to speak bluntly and openly instead of wrapping herself up in layers upon layers of what other people want from her.

I've already written plenty about Em and Eck. The twins' stories are very interconnected, with the quest playing out the same beats from the perspective of whichever twin the player is playing/romancing/keeping in their party.

Canary Highfall

Child of Light

My other major 2-Tav playthrough I have yet to mention, and the first modded class I've played!

Canary's life has been dedicated to the pursuit of truth -- consequences be damned. Reuniting with her possessive estranged father has caused a lot of roadblocks for her, but her divine heritage won't stop her from her latest fascination: Mind Flayers. Specifically, the strange tadpole specimen she intercepted in her father's study. Her pursuits, assisted by her bodyguard and trusted friend Leryk, have resulted in the two of them playing host to those very same tadpoles! The questions are piling up, with one weighing heaviest on her mind: why did her father of all people have this specimen to begin with? And what does that mean for her and Leryk?

Canary's quest is separate from Leryk, as the first part of her companion quest is finding him. If the player completes the grove or tries to move to the next region without him while keeping Canary in the party or at camp, he'll just show up at their camp. They're a package deal from Act 2 onwards, so the player can either dismiss them both or keep them both. She's not going anywhere without her closest friend!

Canary is a feverously academic person with a focus on abnormal biology. Her noble position and all the restrictions that come with it are a recent development in her life, and one she only engages with for the resources it affords her when possible. She's extremely distrustful of authority and how nobility has a chokehold on academia, so finding out her estranged father is a hyper-paranoid aasimar descended from Lathander himself doesn't exactly help her faith in higher powers -- be they the divine or the political. She's a bit of a smartass and gets wrapped up in what she's doing so completely that she often doesn't consider the consequences. Despite her outward confidence, it's very easy to get her to start rambling or turn her into an absolute mess. Though she hates when Leryk treats her like a princess, she trusts him with her life and would do just about anything for him.

With Canary, I liked the idea of a Companion with a specific interest in Mind Flayers and a personal stake in the conspiracy much like Wyll does. She wouldn't be able to tell the player anything Halsin can't already say in much more detail since she hasn't made a lot of headway in her tadpole-specific research, though.

Leryk Coppperlot

Knight of the Dawn

He's the only one of my active saves that has a skin tone other than "human". Good job, Keps.

Leryk's life hasn't been very long so far, but very little of it has been uneventful until recently. Saved from his life as a ruthless mercenary at the age of 19, he's devoted himself to the Son of Lathander. When his savior's recently-discovered estranged daughter was placed in his care, Leryk then devoted his life to her. Duty blossomed into friendship, but Leryk's blind faith in Canary's father persists despite what Canary has to say about it. Now that they've both been tadpoled and whisked far away from the safety of the Gate, Leryk is determined to get Canary home no matter the cost. But can he face the horrific truth Canary is on the cusp of uncovering...? And what about the truths she's been hiding from him?

Leryk has that frantic "rookie soldier" energy. He's extremely combat-experienced, but he's terrible at wrangling in Canary since he's very easy to sway through enthusiasm alone. He's blindly devoted to Canary and even moreso to her father, but otherwise can be quite shrewd and cautious of others. Misjudging one's character used to mean death for him, and he learned that when his old mentor tried to turn him in for a bounty on his head. Leryk, despite this, has learned a lot from the kindness afforded to him and does his best to repay it. "Caution, but not discourtesy" is his motto.

Leryk's quest is separate from Canary, as the first part of his companion quest is finding her. If the player completes the grove or tries to move to the next region without her, she'll just show up at their camp. Since they're a package deal Act 2 onwards, the player can either dismiss them both or keep them both. Canary's his best friend and he is literally her bodyguard, after all.

I love devoted bodyguards. I love him so much. I like the idea of some Companions knowing each other or having pre-existing relationships. You know he's having a panic attack and is going to find her just chilling in the Goblin Camp like it's no big deal.

Briar Lockren

The Weary Ranger

okay so Briar was actually a fan companion BEFORE she was a Tav. I recently restarted her run in a 2-Tav where the other Tav is actually Default Dark Urge because this girl's perception proficiency is worthless if she hasn't slept enough. And she never sleeps enough.

After three years of wandering the Sword Coast, Briar has settled in Cloak Wood in hopes of outrunning her terrible luck. Her past involvement with one of Cyric's cults has left her branded with supernatural-levels of misfortune and nightmares plaguing her every time she falls asleep. She's basically a walking-talking tempest. Having fallen in and out of the Feywild and caused towns to burn without her say, Briar thought being picked up by the Nautiloid was simply another instance of her shit luck. So imagine her surprise when she got the first nightmare-free rest in three years. Free from the eyes of the one who cursed her, Briar's luck has suddenly changed.

Briar is a somewhat ditsy individual prone to taking inopportune naps just about anywhere. Originally from Luskan, Briar's time wandering and falling into ridiculously terrible situations has made her a pretty difficult person to rattle. She's kind and gentle despite all she's suffered, but blames herself for wandering around the way she does and causing trouble (settling down with her luck is impossible). Her passivity is what led to her situation, however, as the one who cursed her was her childhood friend-turned cult leader-turned Chosen of Cyric-turned ex-boyfriend. It's messy. Briar's very used to messy life situations.

Briar's probably my most developed Tav in terms of a Companion story since she was originally written to be one. I also will acknowledge her being half-drow but not LOOKING half-drow is partly due to my own personal cowardice, but it's also the result of her complicated heritage. Lotta drow in Luskan. The fact she doesn't look like her full-drow father should tip you off as to why he might not have especially liked his child, therefore neglecting her and giving her very few chances to adopt the cult's teachings for herself. Kinda hard to teach a child to become a religious narcissist when you keep telling her she's just inherently inferior.

Scarlet

The Scarlet Scourge

My longest-lived Tav... heeeey girl, hiiii~ I'm probably gonna play her in a campaign one of these days. Siiigh.

The Scarlet Scourge strikes fear into the hearts of the greedy aristocrats that call Baldur's Gate home. A street urchin whose life was ruined time and time again by those who have far too much money, Scarlet's dedicated her life to taking from those who won't miss it and giving to those who need it. But Scarlet's been stopping the plans of the corrupt for a long time, and it all began with some dangerous blueprints. Blueprints she quite literally carries within her soul. Now that she's crashed far beyond the anonymity the Gates afford her, the one she stole the plans from has a chance to find her all over again.

Scarlet is a highly confident and highly competent master thief. She takes great pride in her ingenuity and artificing skill, and won't let you forget it. She's fiercely independent and keeps people at a distance, even hiding her real name from those she gets close to. However, like every Robin Hood figure, she revels in her legend and genuinely adores the people she does it for. Scarlet may act arrogant, but she has the skill to back up her confidence and risks her life for altruism. Get her in front of a gadget, however, and her brain goes a mile a minute. (She's going to be fucking pissed when she sees how cool the Steel Defenders are and the awful ways they're being utilized)

Who doesn't love a Phantom Thief? I think she and Wyll would absolutely be besties if they didn't already know each other before the events of the game - they both love the people of Baldur's Gate, have super hero names, and are archetypes of a class they don't belong to (Wyll is a Paladin in a Warlock's body while Scarlet is a Rogue in an Artificer's body).

Rohku Eddervyn

The Oathbroken

My OTHER longest-lived Tav, and the oldest character of my active Tavs. He's the oldest of them as well in terms of character age.

Rohku has been given many titles over the years, but none of which he's found suit him. After awakening to his Oath in the wake of a Sharran attack during his time as an Acolyte, Rohku was once known as The Sun of the Seventh Dawn for reasons he'll spare you for now. But years of tracking down and slaughtering Dark Justiciars began to take their toll. When grief and rage gave way to emptiness, he understood the pull of Shar. Unable to hunt down those he now saw as victims, his Oath shattered. But his devotion remains. Now, as he searches for new meaning under the Moonmaiden's gaze, he tracks down an artifact said to have fallen into Sharran hands...

Rohku is a mature and quiet man, jaded by the world around him. He's tired of battles between good and evil, and now lives for what is kind -- in any form that takes. He's patient with people and thinks very little of what others think of him. His wisdom and experiences make him an excellent leader, and an even better listener. He often chooses to resolve conflict through his words rather than his blade, but his deadpan demeanor makes that difficult. But he can handle that when it's his own ass on the line. But Zweihanders aren't shields.

Rohku was the first masculine character I played in BG3 and I fell in love. He's so tired and sweet. He's kind of Halsin-esque in that he was thrust into leadership without his say and acts as a calming presence for those he makes camp with. And big. He's a big boy.

~~

Hee hee hee self call-out time! Yes I have noticed 3 of them have black hair, 3 of them are tieflings, 5 have a different hair color streaked in there (with 2 of them specifically graying at a young age), and only 1 of them is above the age of 30. Because I Am A Coward. Pobody's Nerfect.

Hope you kinda enjoyed my little Tav sound-off! If you have questions about them or wanna see more of them or, heck, even draw or write about them yourself, go craaaazy! I don't know how much of these ideas are, like, solidified. IDK I'm still playing around with them.

God I put too much work into these. I can't believe I do fan fiction now. Wild.

#bg3 #art #bg3 tav #bg3 art #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fan companion #bg3 eckhart #bg3 emerleigh #bg3 canary #bg3 briar #bg3 leryk #bg3 rohku #bg3 scarlet #bg3 tavs #hee hee hee i had so much fun

[animebw]

I've been struggling to figure out how to write this post for the past couple weeks. Part of me thinks I shouldn't bother writing it at all. Not like my words will accomplish much in the grand scheme of things. But if I don't say anything, these thoughts will just keep gnawing at my mind like caged animals. And as the chaos in Palestine shows no signs of slowing, I need to get this out before it's too late for my words to do anything but cast regretful looks back at a moment I was too cowardly to add my voice to.

So.

Most of you don't know this, but I'm Jewish. Not incredibly so; my dad's side of the family is full of active temple-goers and worshippers, but I've mostly just tagged along for holidays and bar mitzvahs. It's a part of myself I used not to think that much about, just one aspect of my life among many. But in recent years as right-wing anti-semitism has ramped up, I've begun appreciating my Jewish connections more and more. Judaism may not be a religion I follow, but it's been an integral part of my culture and community over the years. It's the connections I share with my extended family who I usually only see a couple times a year on Passover and Hannukah but nevertheless tie us together unshakably. Being Jewish is an indelible part of me, and I've always wanted to make a more active effort in connecting with and exploring that part of my heritage. There was even a time back in college where I was tentatively planning a birthright trip to Israel to connect with my ancestral roots or whatever. Classic post-graduation travel abroad stuff.

It feels really weird to think back on that now.

I've never read much of the Torah, I admit. Not like I could, since I never learned Hebrew. But everything I've picked up about Judaism over the years has overwhelmingly painted it as a call for compassion, kindness, and community. Yes, the world can be cruel, it says, which is why we must add light to the darkness wherever we can. Celebrate the freedoms we've won. Cherish the bonds we've forged. Weep even for those who've wronged us as they suffered in turn from God's judgement. Judaism, to me, has always been about how absolutely essential it is to choose love over bitterness and hatred. It is our responsibility to cultivate a kinder, better world, so those who come after us need not suffer the same ills as us. It's been a comfort in many rocky periods of my life.

And it is with that perspective that I say unequivocally: what Israel's government is doing to Palestine is indefensible. Bombing hospitals, dropping chemical weapons, denying critical aid to innocent civilians trapped in the barrage, even bombing safe routes they themselves told Palestinians to take. Displacing people from their homes, their lives, their dignity with no regard for their basic humanity. Speaking with increasingly dangerous rhetoric with a desire to wipe the entire population off the face of the map. Never mind the decades upon decades of abuse that Palestine has already suffered under Israeli occupation, second-class apartheid citizens in their own homeland. There is no excuse on the face of the planet that can justify this cruelty and carnage.

Yes, Hamas are bloodthirsty terrorists themselves, and there can be no peace until they are brought to justice. But Israel's actions in response to the October 7 attacks have long crossed the boundaries of justified retaliation. What Bibi Netanyahu and his far-right government are enacting upon Gaza is exactly the same breed of genocide that has been enacted upon Jews across the world throughout history. From our subjugation in Egypt through the Holocaust, we know all too well how it feels to face this evil, see it rip through our communities as it seeks to tear apart the fabric of our very personhood. So to see the craven extremists in Israel's government invoke those horrors in an attempt to justify subjecting another downtrodden, oppressed people to the same fate... I don't think I can properly describe how angry it makes me.

Netenyahu and his government do not speak for all Jews. Hell, according to recent polls, they don't even speak for most Israelis anymore. They do not get to claim Judaism for their own murderous purposes. They do not get to use my voice as justification for their war crimes. They betray the soul of this culture with every hospital they blow to bits and every scrap of aid they deny the suffering children next door. And I refuse to be silent in face of their propaganda. I refuse to let this culture, which has been nothing but a source of kindness and community to me, to be weaponized to excuse the same monstrosities we celebrate rising above every year. I refuse to accept their definition of Judaism as long as I have breath to speak against it.

Palestine deserves freedom. Palestine deserves self-autonomy. Palestine deserves the same kindness that Judaism preaches to all downtrodden people of the world. And Israel must stop this senseless slaughter before their history of surviving the world's horrors ends with them becoming the horror in someone else's scripture. Find and destroy Hamas without punishing the people of Gaza- over half of whom weren't even born when Hamas came to power- for their crimes. Work toward a two-state solution where Jews and Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians, can live side by side in solidarity of the trials they've both overcome. Remember compassion in a world that venerates blind hatred. Remember the kindness we claim rises above all attempts to squash it down. Remember that the heart of Judaism is supporting those who struggle through darkness, helping them find their way out into the light.

Remember who we claim to be.

And refuse to let us be defined by death.

#FreePalestine

#politics #israel #palestine #gaza #free palestine #not anime #important #judaism #jewish

[b-a-pigeon]

New Project Announcement!

What From the Water Rises is a series of ~free~ interconnected short stories by @fellamarsh & I, all of which take place in the same fantasy setting. If you want to explore a diverse and vibrant world—full of gods, magic, swordfights, political intrigue, gay people with fun genders, and more—read on for a summary and more info!

Fifty years have passed since the ocean god, Ezu-anvashe, raised an island in the gulf between empires.

Shortly after, the original explorers of the land declared their independence from their home countries of Sehmera and Mesaanot—and their patron god has fiercely defended their freedom ever since, retaliating against any attempt to claim the land or its people. The island, named Ilse Ezu in honor of its creator, has since become a destination for those hoping to start a new life or hide under the sea god’s protection: Sehmeri aristocrats vying for a different kind of power, wizards who long to test the limits of human power, criminals, pirates, outcasts, cultists, and even a young prince in hiding.

But tensions between the empires have only continued to increase, and both plot to reclaim the island they’ve been denied access to. Follow the stories of the original explorers and the newcomers adjusting to life on the island, as a small nation tries to stay above water under the pressure of two kingdoms.

The first story is up now here on Tumblr, on Patreon, and on Substack! (You can follow public posts on Patreon for free, although patrons get early access, bonus content, ebooks, & more.) The next will be out 4/26 and will continue on a biweekly basis from there.

Thanks for reading! We're really looking forward to sharing these with you :) -- B & Fell

#my writing #fantasy #fantasy stories #fantasy fiction #writeblr #original fiction #original writing #writers on tumblr #authors on tumblr #tumblr authors #fantasy author #indie author #queer author #writing community #fiction writing #writer #writers #writing #creative writing

[herparadisepeace]

You and I

Pairing: Jungkook× reader

Summary: you realize that your oh so perfect relationship was not perfect after all.

Rate:18+

Genre: angst,fluff

Warnings: mentions of sex, unhealthy relationship, breakup.

A/N: hey!! This is the first ever I am posting a fic and I am not sure if this is even something you can read. It's lacking in so many ways and I know that but I kind of wanted to do this for myself. This is actually what happened with me and I don't know but I guess I wanted a closure?? I hope you like it.🥲😅

Ever since you grew up there was a hopeless romantic inside of you. It was beautiful to think that you will be loved by someone who you love. But it was what you wanted to do once you grow up. After you make your parents happy after all their struggles they did for you. That was what you decided but life is full of silly surprises.

You were proposed by a hotshot guy of class. He was one of the famous bad guys which you swore that you will stay away from. You rejected once. Twice. Thrice. He kept on asking you out. He said that he likes how you are so naive and beautiful. Maybe it was the first time you were hearing something like this from a guy who was as handsome as jungkook. So you accepted his love for you.

You thought that it was all for sometime. His love for you. But it grew intense in just a few months and somehow you also started liking him. It was new to you and you loved it. To be his girlfriend. He would do anything for you. He even spent less time with the seniors who were a bad company to him. It gave you a kind of push towards his love.

He kissed you for the first time in your classroom when everybody was out eating lunch. It was your first kiss and nothing felt so good.

"I love you y/n, I really do and I don't think I'll ever be so serious for somebody. Thankyou for loving me back" these words made you smile that day and you also shared same thoughts as him.

You were one year into your relationship when you both first had sex. It was something you never experienced before and it was ecstatic.

"Jungkook" you gasped his name between his powerful thrusts. He looked at you like you were his world. "I love you too y/n" He kissed you. That night will always be one of the best you ever lived.

It was your two year anniversary and he gifted you chocolates which he never liked but you loved. He could've given something more expensive but those chocolates had a special meaning for both of you.

You both graduated high school and entered different universities. Just after some months something changed. Jungkook was still the same. His love was still the same. He was loyal, honest and a very ideal boyfriend. But what happened?

You started spending time with yourself while you both were away from each other in different corners of the country. And you felt new. You loved the freedom. You loved how you did everything by yourselves. So when that happened you made less calls to your boyfriend. It was not like you were swayed by some other man. You were just wanting to be you.

When the air changed between you two jungkook confronted you. And you tried again. For the sake of you special bond. But that love never came. Then you started to realize what you really ignored while being with jungkook. How he never let you talk to any other guy. How he wanted you not be loud. How he sometimes not liked what you wore. And no matter how much you deny it or how much you loved it. The sex was never you choice because it was his idea which he wanted you to do. Or else he would not talk to you. All these things made you hate yourself. How can you do that to yourself?

So here you are. In front of your boyfriend in a Cafe near your university.

"I missed you" He was happy to see you. You could sense it in his voice.

You just looked at your hands in your lap."how have you been?" You didn't know what else you should say to him.

"I am okay" He grimaced. "Ah..I can't believe we are having a small talk. Tell me what you want to eat."

It was all the same but one thing was different.

You.

"Jungkook do you think that we love each other?"

"What?" He chuckled nervously."of course I love you so much."

You were quite and then you lifted your eyes to meet his dark ones. They are so beautiful. They were still holding you back but this time it was something you wanted to do for yourself.

"I don't think so." The tears appeared in his eyes. He tried to held them back.

"I knew it" He looked down.

"I am sorry"

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"There must be a reason."

"Do you think there is some other guy in my life."

"Y/n I'll never think that and you know that."

"There is no reason. I just fell out of love" the reason was stupid. And you knew that you not lie to him but you if say the truth he would be Hurt and the love that you both had would be tainted and didn't want that. You wanted to be his precious memory while he will be yours.

You both sit silently for sometime. You both were on verge of tears and surprisingly he doesn't stop you from going.

"Good luck y/n. I wish that you become the best doctor." His voice wavered and the tear from your left eye dropped.

"You too jungkook."you turned to look at him and smiled."thankyou for coming into my life. I really loved you."

And then you walk out of the Cafe with heavy eyes and light heart. Jungkook was once your safe place. At some point you even thought that you were going to marry him. But Everything happens for a reason.

Jungkook will always have a part of your heart. He will preciously reside in your heart.

You smile through tears while walking to your dorm. Maybe that's how it is supposed to be.

I love you too, jungkook.

#jungkook #bts #jungkook smut #breakup #kpop #love yourself #established relationship #jungkook and reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

[talkingharrystyles]

“Your thoughts on the „clubbing“?! Please share I‘m so curious!!!”

🌌Looks like damage control, on steroids, that is driven by fear, and fueled by desperation, to reinforce the idea of being youthful, and exact vengeance, depending on the source, that one of Harry’s flings have been exposed.

Don’t know why she’s upset. He did say that he only considered her as his director. Everybody knows that Harry is having flings to temper the sting of loneliness… oopsies, did I just confirm the rumors?

It’s not like it’s a dozen of bodies. That would be way too much work for him to fit into his schedule, as of late.

It is naive to believe that Harry has adapted celibacy into his life. He IS a man after all. HE DOES struggle with expressing his emotions and resolving issues. He retreats into familiar outlets to handle stress.

As always, OW overplayed her hand.

It’s a bit odd timing that there’s content of them “clubbing” after that specific theme was the hot topic of recently and publicly aired out conversation.

I might be stretching, but also it’s coming on the heels of Harry, being reported, accepting a fan’s prom proposal.

Undoubtedly, this fan will enjoy the freedom that his “girlfriend” is vehemently denied which is posting of him and her enjoying themselves at a dance.

Really there is nothing more to say. I’ve only seen a recirculated video and an unreliable, conflicting detailing of it.

Who knows. If OW is smart, (we know you’re lurking here for tips), then she can break the wheels here, and use this excursion to her benefit.

She can claim that she did “try to keep up with Harry’s riotous living” (visible proof of this now exists), but she “could not espace the constant mommy guilt of abandoning her children”.

For real, OW. Get out, with what shred of dignity you might still have, while you still can.

It is kind of perplexing, as to why OW felt like a “huge f&$!@“? failure as a parent”, though.

She’s earned mother of the year with her constant need to be present around Harry to supervise him.

She’s stalks protects him to make sure that the big bad boogeyman and candyman leaves him alone. She neglects sacrifices her time and responsibilities to have time to chaperone him to places.

She has, now, taken on the role of his designated bodyguard to a night club.

How sweet that she forsakes precious sleep, as she’s one who “goes to bed earlier”, to make sure that no mean person could take advantage Harry him in a vulnerable state.

We can assume that she drove him home, bathed him, changed him into warm pajamas, warmed his tea, and read Love is A Speical Way of Feeling to him, until she was sure that he was sound asleep.

Enjoying special dreams where he can be who he wants to be. And be with whom he truly wants to be with.

I mean, yall, she did go to great lengths to purchase him a new elephant head just to settle his temper tantrums.

She IS taking this unofficial guardianship very SERIOUSLY.

If that’s not a mothers love, I don’t what is.

By all standard, I’d say OW has not only earned the title of mom of the year, she’s earned the satchel. The scepter. The throne, AND the crown.

Oh wait- she’s suppose to be the gf, right? Yeah, then, this isn’t passing the sniff test.

In fact, it smells worse than her overly greased hair and foul intellect.

This is why I have an issue with individuals who are obsessed with linking their identities to political movements, but fail to actually participate in those movements.

I’ve said it before. Olivia’s titles are nothing more than armor against criticism that is disguised as false virtue.

I mean, she is one of the few whom Amber Heard has followed on SM. You are the company you keep.

If the sexes were reversed, people wouldn’t be romanticizing this unusual behavior and would, I hope, call it for what it is: possessive, toxic, psychotic, controlling, and, borderline, abusive.

Just because it’s fake, it still is disturbing that Harry, one who claims to be against toxic relationships, is promoting a relationship to the naive that has the hallmarks of toxicity.

Not all fans are smart, and can distinguish reality from fantasy. Which is why the charade was agreed to, and still is gaining traction.

They know that impressionable minds will consume this.

People will romanticize it because, rather than showing them a HEALTHY relationship, they (Harry Co. Olivia Insane. and Jason and the gang) prey upon and weaponize onlookers insecurities and desires to garner attention.

Holivia validates psychotic fan girls, as Olivia is the very embodiment of WHO THEY ARE. Mentally unhinged, obsessive, compulsive, addictive to fame, and will suffocate a man, until he’s not breathing anymore (interpret that as you will).

This is why shippers cling to Holivia.

They see themselves in Olivia’s insanity, and are thrilled that their behavior is being rewarded with the very person whom they have formed their lives around.

Harry’s not responsible for peoples own free choices. He is, however, accountable for influencing naive minds by engaging in behavior, with the knowledge that there are gullible onlookers of his who are watching and believing everything he does is TPWK.

Putting aside the reality and mockery; exactly how drunk was Harry? I know people like to laugh at his affectionate, cuddly behavior, but they do need to remember that this is someone whom uses alcohol as a depressant. Alcohol IS his veil lifter.

While he typically becomes affectionate, when consumed in excessive, and depending on the stress he is dealing with, HE IS A CRIER. A blubbering one at that.

He does suffer with CONTROL ISSUES.

He does implode when the pressure is insurmountable.

He tries to medicate it, though, by using work, exercise, and alcohol. Drugs, eh. He’s not this pothead people keep thinking that he is.

But people has witnessed him, under the influence of alcohol, crash severely.

He has admitted his consumption of alcohol tethering the line between recreational drinking and acting as a coping mechanism.

If you reflect on old pics, you’d see that him drinking is a common activity in Holivia content.

I keep finding it unsettling that, realistically, a person is increasing needing to be constantly inebriated to withstand being in the presence of a specific person.

🌌

#🌌

[dreadreflection-if]

Discovery. Temptation. Sin.

He leads others down a familiar path of vice…

…wishing to forget the knowledge forced upon her long ago.

Basics:

Name: Uriel

Age: ???

Gender: NB (genderfluid)

Height: 5′10″

Orientation: Omnisexual

Faith: [redacted]

Alignment: [redacted]

Background:

Uriel loves to be a mystery. Each person she meets is told a different lie about her past - sometimes she is born in the glamorous city of Levkarest, sometimes in the tragically plague-stricken Pont-a-Museau. He can be a priest keen on converting others to the Church of Ezra, or the victim of a terrible crime searching for a new home. He is kind and funny, or aloof and haughty.

Uriel is whatever he needs to be at that moment to get what he desires.

She knows she has no actual history to share: it was ripped from her mind many years ago, destroying any plans she had for the future. All she has left to focus on is the present - and she intends to enjoy it to the fullest. That is why she molds herself into different personas, and why he can freely make promises he has no intention of keeping. Focused on his own enjoyment, he leads others down a road of temptation - uncaring if they get lost along the way.

Uriel never explains the motive behind her actions. It is an enigma, just like everything else about her. Some have tried to speculate, but he knows they will never guess. They did not see what he saw, all those years ago.

They did not see what lurks beyond the borders of the Mists.

Characteristics:

Uriel is full of confidence and charisma, able to easily deceive others with his performances. He can successfully act as anyone, using his insight to tailor himself to his current partner’s preferences. She can be surprisingly wise, but rarely shows this side of her to others. She has never been interested much in intelligent conversation - any talks of books or writing bore her. Uriel’s main goal at all times is to have fun. He never worries about the morality or consequences of his actions, and dislikes feeling tied down. She hates anyone who would forcibly try to change her - she has already been put through that once.

Personality Trait: I enjoy being mysterious, and lie about anything I can.

Personality Trait: I have a habit of abandoning things when they are no longer interesting to me.

Ideal: Freedom. The future does not matter, so everyone should live how they want in the present.

Bond: [redacted]

Flaw: It does not matter to me what happens because of my actions.

Appearance:

Uriel has a beauty that almost seems unreal - though she denies using any magic to enhance it. She has pale ivory skin and her upturned eyes are an unusual pink. He has long lashes, and a beauty mark sits below his bright red lips. Her hair is maroon and frames her face: female Uriel keeps it long, down to her back; male Uriel keeps it short, at his ears. He wears clothing meant to draw the eye, and is always adorned with expensive accessories. Though she wears many bright colors, the ones she seems to favor are pink and red.

Specific content warnings for Uriel’s route include: amnesia, body horror, hallucinations, and mind control.

#character introduction #characters #ro #ch: the tempter #ch: uriel #dread reflection #dread reflection if #artbreeder #interactive fiction

[xenodile]

Honestly, I found A Guilty Conscience to be the highlight of 4.2 for the moral quandary it presented. On the one hand, Tsuyu has undeniably caused immense suffering, having enslaved Doma for over five years and directly caused the deaths of thousands for a crime none of them committed, and Hien has every right to want justice for that. On the other hand, at this point she’s essentially and entirely different person than she was before. It’s basically asking “is it truly right to punish someone for crimes they committed if they genuinely have to memory of those crimes?”

Guilt and justice are heavy topics and the focus of the 4.1-4.3 story arc, focusing on Fordola and Yotsuyu, the problem is how they're juxtaposed.

In Ala Mhigo, Fordola is wracked by a guilty conscience for what she's done, realizing everything she fought for and sacrificed was for nothing, and she deserves all the hatred aimed at her. She may never be forgiven or accepted and it's entirely her own fault.

Yet for her crimes, she deserves the chance to be better, to atone for her past wrongs and contribute to a better future, and that blindly calling for her blood is barbarous and cruel. Lyse, Raubhan, Arenvald, and Alphinaud all agree that despite everything, within Fordola there is and always was a dream of a better tomorrow, and it should be nurtured, not snuffed out for the appeasement of crass appetites. Fordola has done wrong, terrible unforgivable wrongs, but seeking justice in the form of pointless mob violence and murder isn't the way.

And then we go to Doma, and all of that is promptly thrown out the window where everyone is SO right and completely justified in wanting to butcher Yotsuyu, and it's to humor Gosetsu and "the will of the kami" that she's allowed the indignity of living as a completely different person. Some say being robbed of her memory and identity is a kindness, yet she is plagued by insecurity and fear constantly. Who was she? Why does everyone hate her, and how can she make amends for a crime she doesn't know about? Is living in a gilded cage, forever denied a meaningful life, all without understanding why it's happening any better? She might as well be dead!

It's not a quandary, it's wrong. There's no moral argument to be made that it's somehow justified to kill her. It's cruel and inhumane. The person that wronged you IS gone. This person that stands in front of you now may share their body, their face, their voice, but it is NOT the same person any more. They may as well be a newborn, and you would murder them in cold blood for personal gratification. It's not easy, it's not fair, you've been denied catharsis, but that doesn't make it right. You have no right to speak of honor, justice, or any moral high ground if you even contemplate it.

And let's not forget, Gosetsu is just as guilty as Yotsuyu. One of the first things that happens in Stormblood, way back in Isari, is Yotsuyu talks about how Gosetsu killed hundreds in the name of the Empire to earn his freedom, tainted his honor by loyally serving his enemy and murdering innocents. If "justice" demands Yotsuyu be held to account, why not Gosetsu? Why not Jifuya, the corrupt noble that held Yotsuyu captive as a sex slave in his brothel?

All the talk about justice and honor in the post-game Doma sections rings completely hollow because it's all self-serving and two-faced. Hien willfully ignores the wrongdoings of others but Yotsuyu is just completely unforgiveable and MUST be killed. It's disgusting.

#David plays FFXIV

[weltonreject]

thesis, novel in progress [excerpt]

Purely out of excitement of having finished my last residency and graduated with my MFA, I wanted to share the two sections of my thesis, The Shapes God Will Take, that I read to my cohort and the BWS faculty. [Word Count: 2,166]

Below is the excerpt as well as the context I provided prior to the reading.

My thesis is a story about a trans man, Clyde, who is a recently graduated botanist. He’s broke and working in a coffee shop and the local college pool as a lifeguard. His boyfriend’s name is Pace. During the span of the novel, he rediscovers Euripides’s The Bacchae, a play he read in his undergrad in the beginning of his transition.

For primer of the play: Dionysus wreaks havoc on Thebes because his demigod status isn’t being recognized, mostly because no one will believe his mother when she says that Dionysus was born a second time out of the thigh of Zeus. Cadmus is the King of Thebes; Agave is the mother of Pentheus. Terror and chaos ensues.

Important bit: There is a line in the play where Gilbert Murray [translation used in-text] has Dionysus saying that through this denial “who on my body [Cadmus] hath begun / A war with God.”

Below are two sections: when Clyde comes out to his parents and a later that responds to the strife of that section.

 - - - - -

THE SHAPES GOD WILL TAKE

It had been seven years. Clyde told his parents on Easter Sunday. His mother was sitting in her bedroom, sewing and listening to music through the television; loud and crystal clear, unlike a whining, easily spoken over, radio. Each time he remembered the scene, he tried to remember who was singing. Sometimes, it was Paul McCartney, other times it was swing music. That time it was Elton John. Philadelphia Freedom, if anyone was keeping a setlist.

When Clyde came into her room, she smiled up at him but didn’t turn the music down. He was fighting the melody, feeling as though his own speech was discordant and an interruption. He told her in a sentence: I wish I looked like a man. Then struck another chord, twisting the sleeve of his shirt so tightly, the stitches began to pop. I am a man, Mom.

His mother took her time to speak. She didn’t seem surprised—shocked in the sense that she was beside herself—but rather calculated with her rejection of the idea.

“No.” was all she offered. Clyde expected a huge clap of thunder, a bolt of lightning to strike him down where he stood in her bedroom. Instead, it was a quiet storm, barely a sun shower.

There was nowhere to argue, nothing to bite. He felt like he could tear into any rebuttal—except the one that was a lecture. One that was a kind retelling of his feelings with a stern look and one word. Every moment he’d spent building up the courage to share himself was twisted into a malicious, meticulous planning that had to be squashed by the “sensible” decision to deny his “choice.” There was no courage in the rejection, only power. Overpowering.

“Listen to us, we’ve been in this world a lot longer than you and we don’t think you understand. You think you know what you’re talking about, but you’re just different, honey. And this is not the way to be different. Don’t listen to those people at school—they’re telling you who to be, CC. You can’t do this—you’ll never be happy. Life will just be so difficult for you now. And if you keep dressing how you want—feminine as you say you like to—not even the gay community is going to want you, CC. They’ve very particular. The gay men don’t want someone with a vagina. And the lesbians won’t want a super masculine woman either. You’re just going to make yourself so upset, baby, you don’t want this. You can’t start going around introducing yourself as a boy—I can’t introduce you as my son. You know I can’t. It’s not something you really want. You’re just feeling a bit different right now. It will all straighten out soon, CC. Just trust us.”

“Okay.” was the most cutting retort Clyde had inside himself. Every part of him was numb. His eyesight seemed to pulsate with each pounding beat of his heart.

As he tried leaving his mother’s bedroom, his father entered, soon hearing the news—without hesitation—from a far crueler mouth. After being called back, his father accused him of “going off the deep end.” Immediately, and with the feeling of Clyde falling—down, farther and farther toward unturned dirt—the familial tether was cut. Clyde became singular. The truth stuck in his throat and choked him. On the anniversary of the supposed revival of Jesus, Clyde was left to fall away, almost guaranteed to be buried with a false idea and name stamped across his grave. Even death couldn’t offer him escape or rescue.

Perhaps that was where his war began: Jesus’s day of blessed return. Clyde became the next son to die. He replaced the empty grave, easily and without a word.

He never argued with his mother, never told her she was wrong. The only thing left to do was to continue on his path to meet Clyde, his future self, and leave them to hold the I told you so in their teeth.

Their warning—the fact they were hopeful in being right—was like a cancerous stone, sinking lower and lower in his stomach. A secret shadow inside him, like a hidden battlefield.

Clyde would always remember exactly where those initial lines were drawn. When he was made to fire the first shot into the sky, harming no one, but being found a threat: an action against all nature, not just his own. Looking back over the years from that first shot, he had lost ground—and was close to losing all of it if he defaulted on his rent payments.

- - - - - -

Pace joined Clyde after half an hour, pulling two blankets out of his backpack. He spread one out and sat with his legs stretched out. He invited Clyde to lie back and rest his head on his lap, pulling the other blanket over Clyde. They sat in their newly favored silence, listening to the lapping of the river against the bank and Clyde’s intermittent page turning. Agave was on her way back to Cadmus, unaware that the blood she was drenched in was once her own, had grown from her. She had been deceived to murder, and still brimming with pride. Oblivious to the guilt creeping up from the tree line, moments from lifting the dream from her eyes.

It was all too convenient that Pace began to shift under Clyde, disturbing his concentration. A chance to stop the impending terror from striking Agave, but also Clyde all over again.

“Are your legs falling asleep? We can get up and go back.”

“No! No, I’m just trying to lean back… You’ve been really still. I sort of want to see what’s going on.” Pace sank back on his elbows to try and see the pages. “Oh Jesus. ‘Tis? Thou? O? You have footnotes for this?”

“Yeah, but it’s not for that. The translations from 1900 or something. That’s how it all sounds.”

“I mean, I guess.” Pace muttered. “God, I almost said: well, that’s how Julius Caesar sounds but… Obviously that would be the dumbest thing I could’ve ever said.”

“Did you just momentarily live in a world where Shakespeare didn’t exist? The guy’s practically your co-worker. I’ve seen his section at the library.”

“Let’s move on, shall we?” Pace laughed, lifting the play from Clyde’s hands. “Let me see what I can get here.”

“I think you can get it. It’s not too bad.” Clyde folded his hands over his chest. “Except for the part where Agave is returning to the kingdom carrying the head of her son.”

“Oh, great. The best part.” Pace muttered. He slotted the book open with his thumb and pinky finger, but more in his own field of vision than Clyde’s.

“She doesn’t know it yet though; she's still talking to Cadmus. Top of page seventy-four. Give it a shot.”

“Out loud?”

“Sure, if you want. I’ll be your footnotes.”

Pace began to hesitantly read, changing voices as he went and discovering the personality of Cadmus and Agave with each line. At first Cadmus was blindly stern: “Alas, if ever ye can know again / The truth of what ye did, what pain of pain / That truth shall bring! Or were it best to wait / Darkened for evermore, and deem your state / Not misery, though ye know no happiness?”

And Agave soft but confident: “What seest thou here to chide, or not to bless?”

Then Cadmus spoke with a booming command: “Raise me thine eyes to yon blue dome of air!”

Clyde’s view of the sky was interrupted by trees, the clear blue almost washed out by a thin whisp of clouds. Clyde could almost taste the winter sun. The breeze let up for a moment to let it all seem, for a moment, brighter and warmer. He inhaled deeply, lifting his folded hands up with his rising chest.

After a short debris-clearing of early 20th century English, Pace continued, “Look once upon it full, till all be clear!” and in a snap, he was back to Agave. Her softness gone. “I see . . . most deadly pain! Oh, woe is me!”

Most deadly pain Clyde knew wasn’t physical, but an intangible twisting of a knife he could never find. He used to think it was a splintered rib or something just as permanent and irreversible. Something innate and full of fault. Suffering could have intellect, though, could have patience. Could lie dormant in the body like a virus, waiting to be jumpstarted to begin disrupting and deconstructing the body from the inside out. Worst of all, the most deadly pain didn’t have to be deadly at all. You could live.

Pace read on, Agave begging to know who killed her son—not thinking she could have done it herself. Clyde’s favorite line—memorized from his first, more modern translation—passed without much hurt: “Blood-drenched ere thou wouldst know him! Aye, 'tis his.” Of course, they would know Pentheus, dismembered or in disguise or some combination therein. How could she not? Wasn’t a mother’s love the holiest, the strongest force the Heavens and Earth had in their grasp? Wasn’t that the core of Dionysus’s rage and purpose: his own mother’s love had been disrespected and ridiculed as tainted and untrue. A second birth was not possible; his father not a powerful God and him just a mortal bastard.

Clyde had never thought of Dionysus’s revenge to be so one-to-one.

Except here, in this story, the mother cried out in agony how badly she wanted to see the body of the son she loved. Her love attempting to prevail. Her love failing to provide Pentheus with life—as it once had at birth—but persisting, nonetheless.

Pace kept reading, but Clyde had stopped being able to listen. A parent inflicting mortal injury without seeing the victim, their child, for who they are—were—haunted and reverberated within Clyde. He had become something faceless to his parents, a wide-eyed creature living only in static memories. Able to be killed through lack of recognition.

Except it was Clyde that kept brandishing the blade. He felt and was reminded of the most deadly pain and thought it could only be a mimicry of their blindness, their desire to slay the king. But he was the one who made sense of it, who continued their desire to hurt him in a way that thought it could make sense to the senseless. It was a cyclical rage he felt every time he was addressed by a name other than his own. It was shame that he, himself, kept alive, trapped until two separate funerals, decades in his future.

Clyde felt an impossible fury and sadness engulf him. He was still looking up at the graying sky, just as Agave did, but wasn’t ready to see the internal carnage he had done. His war with God hadn’t ended, but maybe it didn’t have to be so violent. He could rage, quietly and sternly, against the ways his parents—and their world—wanted him to be. The war would never end—he had started something he couldn’t finish—but that was because neither side was going to die.

He would never come apart at the seams, never disjoint into purer, primitive pieces. He would always belong to the same body and soul. That was non-negotiable. No matter how many doctors had touched it, it was still his body. Whole and complete. Born under one name, living and growing under another. It wasn’t murder, there had been no death; it was a second birth. Not from a woman, but from a separate deliberation and agony. A birth from a previous self, lifted high above before dropping back down into life, directly in the reach of his eager hands. The chance to see with exceptional clarity and ecstasy. The chance to be alive longer than the name that haunted him—that twisted up in a shadow not behind, but inside of him.

He had swallowed it long ago and could never regurgitate it. There were other men like Clyde that had swallowed the same ache. Living men that held that darkness at their cores like a celestial balance, rather than a concrete doom. The blackness, the shame, was only one spec—a nameable offense—but it was no longer able to outsmart the joy buried just as deeply in Clyde.

Everything was unearthed, risen from a funeral he didn’t know he was preparing for. It was pointless to prepare a body for a grave undug.

Clyde closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at the sky any longer. He knew what he’d been doing, beyond the scars and the fear. He closed his eyes and listened to the shuffling of the grass, to the wind, to Pace’s voice. To the life created in the pause of his shame and guilt. The happiness that had outsmarted the loitering suffering, the trenches of a raging war.

#my writing #benny times #*

[fuck-marvel]

— #fuck-marvel🍭 —

TL;DR are in green below the certain sections

Requests: open.

— rules

YES

Anyone is welcome. No matter age, gender, skin colour, nationality, sexuality, fandom, religion and so on. Everyone. Just be respectful towards others as well!

You may repost, reblog, translate, remix or just simply use all of my original content I post here. No need to ask either, you're absolutely given permission. However, tag me and make it clear that the original was my work.

Send thoughts or headcanons about whatever character. Or tell me about your OCs. Or other obsessions you have, I'd love to hear!

Tell me about yourself! Share whatever your comfortable with, your pronouns, preferred names and so on. Don't share too personal information on the internet tho!

Ask me anything. I'm relatively comfortable with any questions and if I'm not, I'll let you know and I won't think about it no more. So don't be shy, if you're curious about something, just ask!

Send me picrews or uquizzes! I'd love to take them!

NO

Don't hate. It's fine if you wanna tell me over DM that or what you don't like about me or this account, but don't do it ob my account. Also, don't hate on others.

If you did send a request and I decide to deny it, don't be mad at me. I'm truly sorry, there isn't a lot I wouldn't do. In fact, I don't even know myself yet what I'm uncomfortable with, which is why I couldn't say right now what kind of requests I would ever deny.

Don't forget to put trigger warnings before talking about certain topics, in order to not trigger anyone else!

TW: Eating Disorder. I'm recovering from an eating disorder. I'm slowly getting comfortable talking about me eating again, but I'm not quite there yet. So while you're obviously free to talk about food and stuff in general, I'd prefer not to be ask whether or not I have eaten yet. Be sure, I'm healthy, I just don't like talking about it in regards of myself.

Don't sexualise or harrass real people. There's obviously a difference between saying someone is hot and actually sexualising them, but please be careful with what you say as it might affect other people in ways you don't know. I only write about the characters, not the actors resembling them. Obviously, if the person stated they don't mind if people say certain things to or about them, it's a different story.

— writing

I'm technically a writer. It's my passion, it's what I like to do and I've been doing it ever since I learnt how to write. Ever since first class. I still have a lot of the things I wrote over the years. However, lately I haven't really been feeling it. I did write things but those were rather personal, situational or just scenes without context. I want to continue writing and I also want to post what I wrote, get feedback and improve, but I will wait until I feel well enough to finish things and I won't stress myself into creating content.

Also, if I feel like it, I will write poems or imagines and post them. Obviously everything I post on here will be marvel related.

REQUESTS

The thing with requests is that I am never able to finish them because I need my freedom to write and I need time to actually feel the characters and feel what I'm writing and I might not really get into the feeling, which results in me dropping it. So I won't accept requests.

HOWEVER!, I never had a problem with writing things that don't require a lot of commitment or in other words, short things.

Therefore I will always accept requests for reactions (that includes things like n/sfw alphabets as well) and short imagines/headcanons/blurps.

CHARACTERS

I will write about any and every character. And with this I mean any and every character. The only exceptions are characters where the creators or actors who play the characters said that they don't want this. As of right now, I don't know of any character or actor where this was stated. So in other words, if you request a reaction with the character standing on Mysterios left when he stalks Peter before the Water Attack in Far From Home, then hell yea I'm down to do it.

I will also write about whatever ships. I don't ship myself, but I'm open to any ships. Rocket Raccoon x one of the nameless ants in Ant-Man? Why not, I've heard weirder before.

One important DISCLAIMER tho, I write about the characters, not the actors. I don't feel comfortable writing about real-life people, it's different with fictional characters tho. And while I might use pictures of the actors as their characters sometimes instead of pictures of the drawings from their comic book selves, it's still about the characters and not the actors.

GENRES

Honestly, any and every genre. I consider myself to be best at angst and sad things in general, maybe even comfort. But I wanna try a lot of different things and I have quite some ideas for any genre I can think of right now. If you want to request a certain genre, feel free to do so, I'm open for everything.

Yes, I will also write smut if I feel like it. I personally prefer writing suggestive or spicy stuff without going fully into it, but honestly, why not fully go for it.

TL;DR: I will only accept requests for reactions and headcanons but I will write about whatever character, ship or genre as long as no one affiliated with that character or ship has declared that they are not comfortable with it.

— art

DRAWINGS

Now, I'm not an artist and to be quite frank, I suck at drawing. It's nothing I'm very passionate about either tho, just something I like to do every now and then to keep my hands busy while watching a YouTube video or something. That doesn't mean I don't wanna try and get better. I love people who create short animations or comics and I wanna do those things as well. So depending on whether or not I feel like it, I might post me trying to draw.

EDITS

Drawing isn't the only form of art. And while I'm also not good at video edits, they're fun to do and I'd love to share them on here and maybe get some feedback on how to do better.

WALLPAPERS

I always make my wallpapers myself. It just feels right to me. However, I don't like using the same concept twice and I absolutely hate copying something I saw on the internet before, so I quickly run out of ideas or concepts to use. It's still fun to try though and who knows, maybe someone likes a wallpaper I made and wants to use it.

OTHERS

These are things I don't know how to categorise. There's lots of ways to create art and one I really like to do is engraving things I like in glasses. I'm not great at it, but I'm getting better.

There's also "food art". I like making food for others, especially if there's a concept for me to use.

TL;DR: I suck at art but I still wanna try and maybe post it.

— games

It's been my dream for years to create my own fangame, specifically a Pokémon fangame. I've been looking into romhacking as well as creating one using Pokémon Essentials, I just never really had the time to do it. I still want to do it and if it ends up working, I'll post my progress on here.

TL;DR: I wanna create a Pokémon fangame with a marvel theme.

— interactions

VENT

Feel free to vent about anything. I want this to be a safe space, no judgement whatsoever. You can talk to me over my asks, by tagging me, over DM or by commenting on my posts. Anything is fine, as long as you're comfortable. You can also ramble about anything, I'd be happy to listen to whatever is on your mind.

However, I'm not a professional therapist, I'm just trying to be open and there for people. You can talk to me if you wish, but it doesn't replace therapy whatsoever!

I simply wish to find friends who enjoy marvel content.

NEGATIVITY/CRITICISM

While you obviously can talk about whatever you wish to me, I'll delete anything that seems like the intention is simply spreading negativity. With that, I mainly talk about Hate addressed to either me or anyone else.

You can send Hate or Criticism to me of course. But I'd ask you to do so over DM. I'm not gonna judge you for what you have to say, neither will I block you, I just wanna keep negativity off my page.

You can obviously send constructive criticism over asks or comments it, as long as the intent isn't to spread negativity, it's fine.

TL;DR: Talk to me about whatever you want, just keep intentional negativity in my DMs as I will delete it on my page. Also, I'm no therapist.

— fancontent

I ADORE fancontent. Everything from fangames, to comics, OCs, drawings, fanfiction, projects etc. And I will likely reblog or talk about some if not a lot that I think are really cool or simply impress me. However, anything that isn't official or canon will obviously be marked as such.

TL;DR: I will also talk about fanmade content, not just official things.

#fuck marvel🍭 #marvel #spider man #smut #fluff #bucky #angst #captain america #captain marvel #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes #mysterio #loki #thor #black widow #scarlett witch #dr strange #hulk #hawkeye #iron man #mcu #peter parker

[leonbloder]

What Is Love?

I should tell you all that the words that find their way into these Daily Devotions are hardly the words I reflect on in my journaling, writing, and rambling to myself.  

Trust me, you don't want to see most of those words.  

They lack rhyme or reason most of the time, and more often than not, they tend to be questions that I have no answers for or diatribes about why I don't have the answers to said questions.

But occasionally, I find myself reflecting on an idea I can't figure out to any satisfaction: Love.

As I write this, a song from the early 90s by a forgettable one-hit-wonder artist named Haddaway comes to mind--a song that contained the incessant question, "What Is Love?"

[Now that song is playing on repeat in my head and probably in the heads of more than a few of you.]

After living 54 years, I have concluded that no matter how many times Haddaway asks me that question in the song, I can't give him a good answer.  This is not to say that I don't have some thoughts, though.

Let me share a quote from Fr. Anthony de Mello that I wrote down once that sums up some of my notions about love.  In the paragraph preceding this quote, de Mello talks about how terrifying it is for us to understand love, and then he says this:

And that is why love is so terrifying, for to love is to see, and to see is to die.  But it is also the most delightful exhilarating experience in the whole world.  For in the death of the ego is freedom, peace, serenity, and joy.  

What Fr. Anthony means when he says, "for love is to see, and to see is to die," is basically this:  

To truly see another means that you see them as they are in all of their frailty, beauty, and brokenness, and in that seeing, you also glimpse something of yourself and what it will take for you to be fully alive and present with them.  

Essentially, you are confronted with the truth that to be fully present and alive with others, you must let go of your ego, pride, and the ways you may hold the world at arm's length.  

I need to be clear: this isn't about becoming something you are not or denying your identity, silencing your voice, or becoming less of who God means for you to be.  If another demands this of you, that's not love.

Instead, this is about becoming more of who you are, living more fully into your best self while letting go of the ego that keeps you from being who you were meant to be and experiencing the kind of love that God longs for you to experience.  

Jesus once told his followers something tough to hear.  

"And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." (Luke 9:23, ESV)

That wasn't the only difficult thing that Jesus said to his followers, but it's pretty high on the list of the most challenging things.

Jesus tells his followers that if they are willing to die to themselves daily and "take up their cross" (the ego, the self that gets in the way of being fully human), they will discover more about themselves and their capacity for love.

Beloved, may you find the courage to love.  May you let go of all the ways your ego has kept you from fully living into your most authentic self.  May it be so.  

And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.  

[independentzaun]

✉️

send ✉️ for a letter your muse finds that mine wrote, knowing that death was coming for them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silco hadn’t expected anyone to slip into his office while those letters were still on top of his desk, and he certainly had not thought someone would start to read one of them. In hindsight he probably should have, but at that moment he wasn’t really at his best. The letter to Neopolitan was written, but not yet sealed and was next to a couple of other letters. Each letter addressed to someone else with there being five in total. One for Jinx, Sevika, Singed, Neopolitan, and one to Vander. Jinx’s and Sevika’s were already closed with a wax seal, but the others hadn’t been completed yet. Neo’s had been next, and Silco had been called away before managing to seal it.

The letter was hand written of course, and the writing was crisp and clear making the entire thing easy to read. All of it was in basic print instead of some kind of fancy cursive as Silco wanted to ensure no one had any issues reading any of it. His signature at the bottom however was a surprisingly stylish flourish of calligraphy.

Neopolitan, I regret to say I haven’t known you long enough to have much to put into this letter however with your recent services I believe you’ve earned one. If nothing else you should know why there will no longer be a role for you within my organization by the time you receive this letter.

When you read this I will have died, and so what I have built will no longer be “my” organization. I have however put in a good word for you with Sevika, and see no reason for you not to continue to have a place here should you wish it.

If someone paid attention there would be a slight change to the ink color in the middle of the color, and the letters got just a tiny bit thicker as though someone had gotten a different set of writing utensils.

My last passage may have been a bit dramatic, but it was the truth. Singed knows why I am dying. Sevika will learn my time is limited soon but just the needed details, and my daughter will simply be told I was sick. Forgive me a bit of whimsy however Neo, and allow me to share with you the truth of the matter albeit in a shortened manner. A man I was once very close to tried to down me in the toxic polluted rivers of Zaun years ago which is how I got the scarring on my face, and my eye. What few people know is that the toxins never left my body entirely, and I’ve been taking Shimmer treatments in order to deal with it.

The shimmer treatments despite Singed’s best efforts no longer work. He anticipates that in two to three months if I am lucky, or a month if I am less lucky my end will come. When that happens Zaun will change. Jinx will not react well, and Sevika will do her best to hold things together. This letter should reach you shortly after I pass. I will not deny that I hope you will stay with them, and do what you can to aid them. However as I will not be there all I will ask is this. Please do not betray them. I do not believe there to be a particular risk of that, but when chaos erupts it can be impossible to tell what will occur afterwards so that is my one request. If you would leave, or wait to see the dust settle so be it. However they do not deserve a blade in the back. Sevika is a good woman who puts up with more than she should have to, and my daughter Jinx, that perfect girl, deserves better then what she has been given in this life.

No threats, no promises of revenge from beyond the grave. Just a dead man’s request.

With all that said. Thank you for sharing some of this last remaining time with me. I remember fondly the jobs we accomplished together, and if we had met at a more opportune time I have a feeling we would have done so much more.

This will be my second time dying, and I have no doubt this one will stick. I do not regret my life, or my actions. I regret only that I did not succeed, and I could not leave having seen the freedom and respect Zaun deserves granted to it.

Live well Neopolitan, and when you pass do so with as few regrets as possible.

Silco.

P.S This continuation shall be put into everyone’s letters. I do not care over much what happens with my body, but if you must ask my preference would be one of the following. Cremation and to be put next to my siblings urn in the columbarium I own. You can find the address and details among my paperwork. Otherwise take my body to Piltover and burn it on a funeral pyre made up of as much of their city as you can bring down.

#death tw #angst tw #silcoanswers #tricoloredillusion

[yandere-sins]

Your writing is just!! Mwah very good

May I request some rivalry or perhaps sharing hcs with yan diluc and yan kaeya?

Ah yes, let’s have something to sweeten my evening ~

»»———————— ♡ ————————««       

Kaeya

♡ Nothing he does ever happens without some underlying intentions. Is it leverage against his sworn brother? Could be. Maybe it’s just his revenge for all the years being absent and their tainted past. Perhaps Kaeya really just wants them to have something to connect over again. He can live with the dirty glances he receives from Diluc and playing the bad cop - who’s constantly pushing boundaries - in their pairing for when their darling misbehaves. However, they quickly learn that Diluc isn’t the person to run to when the brothers disapprove of the darling’s doings, or they might suffer from a punishment worse than if they go to Kaeya for help. Then again, ice might help soothe a wound, but only until it becomes a much more dreaded cryogenic burn.

♡ Kaeya isn’t putting up a rivalry between them. He much rather wants to share the darling with Diluc, but the latter isn’t as into the idea as Kaeya is. And yet, when he sees his brother so restrained and having no fun, Kaeya believes it’s his personal duty to tease Diluc into relaxing a bit and helping with tending to their darling. Whenever Diluc plays unapproachable, he’ll make sure to ask the darling ridiculous questions about who they like better, his once comforting hand now an icy and silent warning to not chose wrong. There’s something exhilarating in seeing Diluc bite his lip when he isn’t chosen, the slight pout and cold stare making it worth the tease. Knowing that Diluc wouldn’t just touch their darling unprovoked also plays into the reason why Kaeya likes to handle them so much, pulling them on his lap and running his hands up and down their body until they squirm. It’s when Diluc wants to interfere that Kaeya makes it clear to not get into his way, sparks of possessiveness erupting between them. Kaeya will tell his brother he’d prefer it if he left the two alone if he’s planning to just stand and watch, leaving his brother to seethe by himself as he storms out. At the same time, Kaeya remains with a knowing grin on his lips and their sweet darling in his embrace, winning almost every one of those battles.

♡ Knowing that Diluc is organizing everything for the darling, Kaeya can focus on all the nice things. Bringing them presents and what they ruefully request from him, even if they have to beg. He really, truly believes and makes himself out to be the good guy, but everyone involved knows his intentions are far from it. Every present comes with strings - sometimes literally. He’ll make use of all the good deeds to get what he wants from the darling later. Admittedly, oftentimes the presents are of more use to him than the darling, but he gives them back a little bit of what they desperately seek - freedom. A new book here, some flowers there. Clothes to choose from - plus the permission to dress as they please -  and sweets and drinks for the more depressing days to enjoy with or without him. While Diluc seems to accept what the darling is willing to give, Kaeya takes everything he wants. But if he isn’t too needy, too forceful, or too drunk, Kaeya is their go-to brother because he has their darling on hooked on all the good he can do for them. Not like he wouldn’t take what belongs to him even if they were to hold on to Diluc desperately. Only a drawn sword might be able to deter Kaeya - until Diluc isn’t there to protect them anymore, at least. Kaeya doesn’t forget what he feels he’s owed.

Diluc

♡ Diluc has a goal, and that’s what he’s focusing on. He wants his darling to be safe, and knowing he has to share them with his ‘brother’ isn’t really helping. He constantly has someone watching over the darling’s room, but Kaeya bribed the guards, a knock against the door warning him of approaching danger when he shouldn’t be in the darling’s room. Nonetheless, when Diluc finds his darling crying on the bed, covered with their bedsheet, he knows that Kaeya has been back, making him angry enough to have lost a few of the guards already in a bloody mess. The deal is that the two aren’t allowed to be alone together, but Kaeya seemed to have forgotten about the promise after it was made. And on the few awful days that Diluc has to watch over Kaeya pushing himself onto his darling, challenging his own brother with a pesky grin and his name dripping off his lips, Diluc can feel the headache it’s causing him, wondering if it’s really worth the pain to share his darling. But he has to, even if it’s just to keep himself and his darling save from the Knights of Favonius with Kaeya’s help.

♡ Undeniably, though he does deny it harshly, Diluc does have a bit of a jealous attitude towards his brother. He knows everything Kaeya does while staring Diluc in the eye provocatively is merely to make him nervous and break his composure. Sometimes it’s hard to just stand by and watch, but if there ever was a fight breaking out between the two, no one knew how much danger it would put the darling into. Meaning, Diluc has to make sure that it will never happen, even if that means he has to leave them alone. The many times he sighed once he left their room, scared for his darling, but relieved that he didn’t have to see something he never would want to witness, are hurting him and causing frustration. And when Kaeya makes them say that they like him more than Diluc, it stings, even though he knows that Kaeya is threatening them into it. Still, he’d want to be their first choice too. And sometimes, just sometimes, he wants to switch places with Kaeya, just to know how it is to handle their darling and not keep a painful distance to them because it was necessary. Occasionally, he manages to break the darling out of his brother’s fangs. Still, perhaps because he has no way of comforting them, putting them back in bed the moment Kaeya leaves, he always feels a bit jealous of his brother, who has so much more freedom with them. But freedom isn’t safety. That’s the only thing Diluc can think about.

♡ Diluc has to admit that there are times he sees them misbehave, and for that, he punishes them. Kaeya, on the other hand, has a habit of doing it for the most minor things like the darling shaking their head or looking at Diluc for help. However, other than Kaeya, Diluc believes he’s still the better liked and ‘good’ brother of the two. After all, he’s the one that cleans up the mess, feeds them, tends to their wounds. Everything that Kaeya leaves behind after having his fun with Diluc’s sweet darling is Diluc’s responsibility. The darling’s wardrobe is so full of awful colored, itching, and frilly fabrics that sometimes their darling is very appreciative of the simple shirt and trousers that Diluc keeps hidden until needed for them. Their teeth are going bad from being fed all those overly sweet and tough-to-eat presents, so even though they reject his efforts, Diluc makes sure to brush it for them thoroughly. It’s the only kind of direct contact with them, and with his mind focused on the task, he also keeps his thoughts from straying. Diluc knows he deserves nothing for the efforts he makes - after all, he’s aware that he locked them inside of this room - but if at the end of the day he knows they can sleep soundly, it’s enough for him. Kaeya is giving him a headache, but seeing a tired, automatic smile as he hands his darling water or fresh clothes makes it all worth it. And as much as he despises him, Kaeya did help bring Diluc and his darling closer together. Even if Diluc’s and Kaeya’s relationship is strained and complicated, it helps build more of a relationship with his darling. Though he has to always be behind his brother and make sure his darling is as safe as possible, Diluc at least gets to harvest the fruits of his labor slowly and satisfyingly. And if anyone knows how to do that, then the wine tycoon of Mondstadt.

#Kaeya #Kaeya Alberich #Kaeya genshin #Diluc #Diluc Ragnvindr #Diluc genshin #yandere diluc #yandere!diluc #yandere!kaeya #yandere kaeya #genshin impact #genshin #yandere genshin #yandere!genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere!genshin impact #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[sithaari]

I have a lot of feelings about Tatooine, but one of my favorite things about this planet is the genuine kindness found in the people who call it their home. This is a world where slavery, crime, and corruption are rampant, and everything from the locals to the wildlife to the weather want to kill you. The people there tend be a bit feral and ruthless because that’s what it takes to survive on Tatooine, and no one who grew up there remains innocent for long. Yet we have characters like Anakin — a nine year old slave who was willing to risk his life to help a group of offworlders and never asked for anything in return. Because he took to heart what his mother told him about how the biggest problem in the universe is that no one helps each other. And Shmi was so full of love and compassion and strength. She raised her son on her own, and took in those strangers from offworld when they needed shelter from a storm, and shared what food she had to offer (which probably wasn't much), and she never spoke one word of complaint. And then there's Cobb, another slave, who will carve a message into a slaver's face and is also fiercely loyal and protective of his town — especially the school because he wants to keep Mos Pelgo's children safe and let them have the education and opportunities that he was denied as a kid. And we have Biggs who died fighting against the Empire, in a war to restore freedom and democracy to the galaxy even though Tatooine saw neither in the days of the Republic. And then of course there's Luke who is a bright supernova of hope and kindness. And it's not that he's innocent or naive (no Tatooine kid is) or that he never experiences anger or hatred and was never tempted by the Dark Side. Because he certainly was. But Luke actively chooses to be kind and compassionate and loving, to see the good in others. He's that wonderful person we all love because that's who Owen and Beru raised him to be. And they barely knew Anakin, but they still took in this baby boy and loved him as their own. 

And that's what I love about Tatooine. People call it all sorts of horrible names, but the slavers, gangs, and crime bosses are what make it a "shit hole," not the normal people just trying to survive and live in peace. The people there face daily hardships, including slavery, yet some of the kindest, most selfless characters in the franchise are from that planet. They have every right to be bitter, angry, and mistrustful (and I'm sure plenty of them are), yet we still have several characters who care so damn much about helping other people. Even though the galaxy has done little to nothing to ever help Tatooine. Because it's just like Shmi said, and I can see her words as an integral part of Tatooine culture.

#luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #shmi skywalker #cobb vanth #biggs darklighter #owen lars #beru whitesun #tatooine #star wars #i have so many feelings about tatooine #i'm aware no one else cares #and that's okay #it's my emotional support death planet #a.txt #sw meta

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.  

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.  

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.  

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.  

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.  

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.  

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?  

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

#chris evans #sebastian stan #mcu #marvel #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #mob!steve #dark!bucky #mob!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader

[mistressemmedi]

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.

The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas

After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano

From rags to riches - what a story

It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria

The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre

Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano

Against panic - The stage as therapy

I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria

This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano

Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)

Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano

The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it

After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan

Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom

We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria

Sexism - A culture to be dismantled

Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano

To grow as a person - The only rule to follow

For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan

“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria

Love - music and girlfriends

I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan

Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas

When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria

I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano

The value of the group - Protecting each other

But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas

Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)

Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano

Reached the sky - What fears still remain

We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano

(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)

[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).

Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]

#maneskin #ethan torchio #damiano david #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #i'm off to drink some wine lol