#Idk if I'm allowed to count quotes

[yessa-vie]

❝HELLO, PRINCESS❞ — park seonghwa & kim hongjoong.

PAIRING. kim hongjoong x fem!reader x park seonghwa

GENDER/WARNINGS. enemies to lovers (without the lovers part). suggestive, but not really?. cursing. slight yandere behaviour. way too much fucking tension, i'm sorry.

SYNOPSIS. once your superiors called you saying they caught two of the leaders of the Black Pirates, you rushed to meet them at the abandon building they were in, but the conversation ended up getting a little out of hand.

WORD COUNT. 3,123.

NOTE. this is based on Ateez lore, also is an idea it's been going on and on in my head since i learned a bit more about their lore, once i saw the MATZ mv, idk, it just cliked and i couldn't stop thinking until i wrote it down. it was supposed to be more, but idk if i'll make this into a series or not, so there's a lot in the open. let me know if you wanna see this as a series (:

UPDATE: i did the series (here's the link).

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraing how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

            The Black Pirates had been a problem for a few years now. Your family has always dealt with the rebels in Strickland, you grew up among great leaders, you were trained as one to succeed your parents when you reached a certain age, which would be four years from now, when you turned twenty-eight. Despite this, you had already led persecutions against those who participated in the rebellions since you were seventeen to eighteen years old, shortly after the appearance of the Black Pirates, led by a group called ATEEZ.

            You had already managed to meet them at other times, never all in the same space. They were stealthy enough, they had given up their black clothes and fedoras for a while now, making it harder to find them in the crowd, they started to blend in, wear less flashy clothes, although they continued to cause problems to whoever was around.

            The guards were no longer able to keep up with them, their incompetence making you laugh every time they returned empty-handed. Which leads to the situation you found yourself in now. Two of the eight members had been captured, or rather, allowed themselves to be captured. You didn't know their names, the few times you met them, there was never much friendly exchange of information.

            All except for one. It was at the beginning, when you had your first direct contact with one of the ATEEZ, but curiously he couldn't fully comprehend your words. His stoic beauty didn't help much with the concentration process, especially when he looked so intensely at any information you provided, even if it didn't make sense to him.

            He looked like a statue, a beautiful statue, an ancient painting, just like the ones you had seen stored deep in one of Strickland’s main command centers. The Fallen Angel, an 1847 painting by Alexandre Cabanel, a French painter. You knew that it was a copy of the original painting, but it didn't matter, because it was at that moment that you named the first member you had contact with.

            Angel managed to escape a while later. The incompetence of the guards is already irritating the superiors. When the recordings were reviewed, the interaction between you and Angel caught the attention of the supervisors, who put you in the Search and Capture Team for all members of the Black Pirates. Over time, more and more interactions took place between you and the leaders, each time more intense and direct than the previous ones.

            Angel, Serpent, Fox, Bear, Lion, Cat, Wolf, Squirrel. Each name earned for a specific reason. Angel and Squirrel were the last ones you had come into contact with, but as always, the guards' incompetence caused them both to escape, but not before Squirrel threw a slight wink in the direction of the security camera, knowing that you would see.

            A disbelieving smile painted your lips when you saw that recording. Your eyes now saw the same recording followed by the transmission that had just ended, but now the smile was victorious as you walked in the direction where Squirrel and Serpent were, tied to chairs by iron chains.

            “Leave us.”

            “But ma’am -”

            “Are you questioning a direct order?” At no point did your face leave the two chained to the chairs who were still looking ahead. Heads touching at the back. The smile returning to your lips with the movement and noise of boots against the concrete of the place where you were. “Don’t bother us until I call for you.”

            The last soldier nodded before closing the metal door behind you. The cameras used by the two were still perfectly placed, but properly disconnected, the drones had been confiscated, some of the Black Pirates that followed them had been captured and were already heading to one of the confinement locations.

            Despite the silence that ensued, neither of the two leaders looked at you, but the smile never left their lips. Your eyes passing through every detail of that space, absorbing any trace they left behind, even if deliberately. Over time you learned that everything was a clue, even if you didn't understand it at that exact moment.

            As the boots came into contact with the concrete, Serpent opened his eyes, but they didn't find your figure, even as the sound of the boots on the concrete became closer, the pace was slow, not because you wanted to make an impact, no, that wasn't necessary, what you wanted was time to observe all the possible holes they could put any object into to continue the shitty revolution they wanted.

            Your steps stopped at the beginning of the stone circle that the chairs were in, one of your feet was placed on top, a long sigh leaving your mouth as your hands rested on your hips on the leather belt of the special outfit. One last look around before your steps continued in front of Squirrel who finally opened his eyes, the smirk bringing a slight irritation, making your blood boil slightly. They thought they were intelligent, what irritated you was that they really were, but the guard wasn't the best either.

            “Good to see you again, princess,” he purred the pet name. Your features were controlled, but internally you rolled your eyes. You knew who they were, just as they knew who you were. There was no need for an introduction between you, not since Angel disappeared from the compound he was staying at. “I knew I would see you again, but I didn’t expect it to be under these circumstances.”

            “Don’t you like being tied up and having a woman looking you from above?”

            You allowed yourself a sly smile, being greeted by another from Squirrel who looked you up and down, the smirk never leaving his lips, making you want nothing more than to wipe that fucking smile off.

            “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I like it, especially if she’s you,” this time you couldn’t hold back a cynical laugh, which mattered little to Squirrel, “but public places aren’t part of my fetish.”

            “Funny, because every time we meet you are in public and open places, just like this.” Squirrel refused to answer, making you close your mouth with a small toothless smile, continuing to walk around the stone circle, stopping quickly in front of Serpent, his eyes closed, his head tilted back, leaving the tattoo that adorned his neck visible. “Matz.”

            Although you didn't notice the smirk Serpent gave, you saw the movement of his Adam's apple, your eyes quickly moving up to his face, perfectly sculpted, just like the last time you saw him. The brown eyes slightly hidden by hooded eyelids reminded you of the first time you noticed the duality that the leaders possessed, making you change your approach for the third time since you had joined the Search and Capture Team.

            “It’s our unit,” his voice was low, gravelly, you ignored the shock that ran down your spine when you noticed his eyes roaming every part of your face and body, his mouth slightly ajar as his damn tongue – that seemed incapacitated to be kept inside his mouth – made small appearances between Serpent's teeth. “We don’t all have a unit name, but we all have units that overlap...” Your eyes fell on Serpent’s tongue that touched the left corner of his mouth, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by him, causing a sideways smile to appear there. “What is it, princess? Cat’s got your tongue?”

            Your mind ignored the automatic connection with the leader you had named Cat, but the millisecond it took for that to happen was captured by Serpent's vigilant eyes, making his eyebrows arch slightly, making his eyes momentarily remember the bobba that you used to take when you weren't searching for them all over Stricktland.

            “Why does it matter to you? Are you trying to say that you care about me?”

            “First of all, your eyes never left my tongue, so don’t blame me for worrying about losing it,” the lighthearted smile returned to his lips just as the eyelids fell over his eyes, returning the tantalizing look he always had, managing to get under your skin. At your eye roll, the smile only grew, “there are a lot of things I like and still want to do with my tongue, I wish I could keep it for a little while longer.”

            "You can barely keep it in your mouth," Squirrel said laughing, it being the most genuine laugh you've ever heard come out of him, being imitated by Serpent, making you watch them for a moment, seeing the duality happen in front of you, the duality which always broke the image you had created of them over time. “What’s the second thing?”

            Your eyes continued to dart from one to the other as Serpent stared at you, his eyes wider but still hooded, his smile now shyly present but still there taunting you.

            “Second of all, I thought we already made it clear that we care about your well-being princess,” the pet name rolled beautifully in his lips, making shivers run through your body and you martyred yourself for it. Ignoring your body's signals for that simple sentence spoken that way by Serpent, but he – somehow – noticed the effect, letting out a small nasal laugh. “Cute,” he said simply, his body moving away from the back of the chair, his face as close as it's been in a long time, “but I want to know, princess, what are you going to do with us now that you've got us tied up the way you wanted?"

            You allowed a smile to appear on your lips, noticing when Serpent's eyes fell on your mouth, using the opportunity to get even closer to him, his mouth mere centimeters away. A warm breath came out of your mouth, and you noticed Serpent moisten his own lips before you turned your face away, moving closer to him, your lips lightly touching his earlobe and you noticed the hairs on the back of Serpent's neck rising, making your smile increase.

            “Who said I wanted you tied by iron chains to a chair?” You quickly walked away, boots firmly against the floor as you retraced your steps, standing exactly in the middle of the two chairs, facing the door your team was waiting for any sign of you. Their eyes fell on the cameras that surrounded them. “Wasn’t what you did last night enough?”

            Your eyes fell on the two pairs of eyes that were watching you curiously. The security image of Squirrel and Serpent entering a store and destroying the objects there, returning to your mind, the angry screams of your superiors still reverberating in your eardrums, the loss of the work the government was doing, the work and time to be able to replace everything that had been destroyed. To make matters worse, the recording of the destruction they had wrought had already been disseminated, but this was a problem for the Information Transaction Control people, despite their job being Crisis Management, your only job now was the Black Pirates and their leaders.

            “Told you she looked tired,” Squirrel said more to Serpent who just nodded, making you roll your eyes at the comment, ignoring when their worried eyes were directed at you, “did your superiors not let you sleep?”

            “My job is to catch you, so when you show up in the break of dawn destroying government property,” you sighed, climbing into the circle, standing directly in front of Squirrel, eyes watching your every move, you noticed his movement in the chair as you bent down, hands resting on the arm of the chair, cornering him in some way, but none dared to show any other type of reaction, “I’m the one who has to lose my sleep and go after you.”

            “Glad we made your life easier and came here, getting caught in the process.”

            Squirrel’s cocky smile made you let out a weak sigh followed by a sideways smile, barely noticing when he got closer to you, his face millimeters away from yours, but you refused to move, maintaining eye contact with him, ignoring when you felt his knees touch your leg, ignoring the way he opened his legs enough for him to corner you this time.

            Before you could react, he lifted his legs, wrapping yours around his own, pulling you in such a way that you lost your balance, resting on the back of the chair, before realizing an arm wrapped around your waist, while two hands held your wrists. Squirrel had a small smirk and his mouth was slightly open, your breaths were mixing, making it take a while for you to realize that Serpent had left his chair and was now behind you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist, but before you could say anything thing, Serpent's hand covered your mouth, his breath in your ear, making your blood boil.

            “We don’t want anything drastic to happen, do we, princess?”

            You could feel the smile on Serpent's lips, imagining it was almost a copy of the smile you could see on Squirrel. Despite the quick head movement, Serpent was faster, clenching your jaw tighter, throwing your head back, using his right shoulder to hold your head in place.

            “Now princess, don’t be like that, you know us well enough to have expected this to happen somehow,” Squirrel’s legs let go of yours, making Serpent squeeze you tighter against his body, and you cursed under your breath when you realized how firm his body was, the fit was almost perfect to yours, making any movement impossible, “I love our cat and mouse games.”

            Squirrel’s voice was low, hoarse, he approached you and Serpent like a predator. The truth is, you should expect it, Squirrel was stealthy, quick and smart, whenever he had been caught there had been a reason behind it; Serpent was slender, charming, but mysterious, never allowing you to see beyond what he wanted to show you. The two of them together and being captured should have told you enough.

            The second Serpent freed your mouth, Squirrel placed tape over it, feeling Serpent's hand go down to your throat, fingers still gripping your jaw, mouth close enough to your ear for you to hear and feel every breath and reaction from him. Squirrel looked at you with a different sparkle in his eyes.

            “They sent the drone; we have to go.”

            Serpent's voice made your entire body shake, not just because of the proximity, or the tone, but precisely because of the information. A drone. The others were close, the drone was the sign that they were running out of time, again you would lose them, but this time it was all your fault.

            “Unfortunately, our time is short, but I look forward to our next meeting, princess.”

            Squirrel left your point of view, leaving your wrists to be taken care of by Serpent who finally let go of your neck, turning to face you, a place that was previously used by Squirrel. You could hear the other one walking, trying to memorize the paths they used so you could follow them as soon as they released you and you managed to escape the possible restraints they would place on you.

            “I'm sorry, princess, but we can't risk it,” Serpent said quietly, the affection he felt on your waist startling you for a moment, trying to ignore how hot that specific part of your body had become, ignoring the shock that that simple movement caused to your body as a whole. “We’ve already risked so much for you.”

            Before you could have any kind of reaction, a cloth was placed in front of your mouth, at the same time as the tape had been ripped off. They were going to drug you, but as soon as you realized, the control of your legs disappeared. The last memory was of Serpent's arms wrapping around you and a murmur coming from Squirrel.

            All eight of them were eating dinner that Wooyoung had made, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were hungry, considering how long they had stayed in that building, waiting for you and your team. Both of them just hoping that what they did that afternoon wouldn't cause them too much trouble.

            Not that the others would say anything, they all knew how each of them felt about you. The problem was what Nightingale would say when they found out how irresponsible they had been, just to be able to stay longer in your presence, to see you again, to feel your skin and scent.

            Almost instantly, a message arrived for them, a small alert noise and the eight were quickly on their feet, their eyes scanning the space they were in while Yunho went in the direction of the beeper, opening the message that was accompanied by a small digital bird and everyone already knew what to expect with that.

            “You are lucky that I already expect you to do this and I managed to prevent you from being seen, but I need you to be more careful and obey the rules, not flirting instead of helping us reach our final goal. In any case, congratulations on what you managed to do in the last few days, wait for the next contact. If anything, you know how to contact me.”

            All eight exchanged glances and sighs. That was better than they could have expected, but it also explained what had happened when Seonghwa and Hongjoong left the building, getting into the car with Wooyoung to go to the complex. For a moment, everyone's thoughts went to you, a simple exchange of looks between the two older ones said enough, they should have taken better care of you, but time was short, Yeosang had already sent the drone, they needed to prioritize their safe exit.

            “Do you think she’s okay?”

            Jongho's voice was low, his eyes searching the elders' eyes, seeking some kind of confirmation, that he shouldn't worry, but Matz had said how they left you, there was a 50-50 chance that you were okay, and it was what they wanted to focus on.

            “We should have kept her further away from the door.”

            “For her to possibly roll over and fall over the railing?” Hongjoong fussed a little and Seonghwa just gave him a warning look, noticing the leader of the eight running his fingers through his hair nervously. “She’s going to be fine, worse has happened and she survived.”

            The eight nodded, but they knew it was just an automatic reaction, not necessarily one they agreed or trusted, not until they saw you in one piece, even from afar.

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[cupcakeshakesnake]

are you serious about believing that cats shouldn't be let outside?

why? like don't get me with that "oh they'll kill animals" well yeah, maybe they will. it's their natural instincts, and allowing them outside promotes a range of natural behaviours. so isn't it cruel to prevent that? and if you believe they shouldn't be allowed to go outside, isn't it cruel to choose to keep them inside instead of just *not having a cat?*

also for that arguement the rspb says " there is no scientific proof that predation by cats in gardens is having any impact on bird populations UK wide." while you may not be from the UK, the UK isn't a place where domestic cats are native either!

I wonder if you are American as so many Americans seem to have this weird opinion - is it very common to believe solely in indoor cats where you live? /gen q. it's very common to have cats that go outdoors here in the UK, and the concept of outdoor cats doesn't exist - if someone mentioned an outdoor cat I'd think of a cat that never went inside, like idk a barn cat. a website I found said 90% of cats in the uk can go outdoors but based on what I'm seeing on your feed and Tumblr it's very different for you?

Yes, I'm serious.

I suppose it's also a natural instinct of coyotes (US), foxes (UK) and hawks to kill cats, so isn't it cruel to prevent that? Cats may have natural instincts but they are not part of nature. They're not part of your local ecosystem, you brought it there. Do you only care about your cat fulfilling its 'natural instincts' and nothing else?

Let's say you have, oh I dunno, the Xenomorph from Alien. Let's say you love it a lot. Are you gonna set it free on the neighborhood because its natural instinct is to kill?

If you believe children shouldn't stick their fingers in the wall socket even if they want to, shouldn't you just not have children?

And yes there is plenty of scientific proof. Cats are not native ANYWHERE. If your cat just stays in a fenced garden or maybe a catio, it's fine, but studies found that cats' kill counts are so high because even 'freeroaming' cats roam less than their wild counterparts (i.e. jungle cats) and thus kill in a more concentrated area. They also kill for fun and not just to eat. Cats have contributed to the extinction of 63 species of birds, mammals, and reptiles in the wild, I'm directly quoting an article here.

Very weird of you to push the American button just because I disagree with you, I am in fact South Korean, and oh believe me outdoor cats are barely a thing here. Cats here are either firmly indoors or stray, save for very rare cases. Most cat owners (and people in general) live in the city and if they let their cats out, a variety of things could happen - such as their cats eating trash and getting sick, being hit by a car, or being killed (or worse, captured and tortured) by ill-meaning people (which has very well happened before).

+ Edit) Let's talk cruelty. What is more cruel, a cat being bored out of its skin, or the cat being flattened by a car, or countless small animals being torn apart and left to die? All of which is preventable with a few extra steps from the cat owner.

In my opinion, having cats (or any other pet) is a lot like raising children. Of course their needs should be paid attention to, but they themselves don't always know the best way to go about fulfilling those needs and it's your responsibility to keep them safe and happy at the same time. You can't let them do whatever they like all the time. AND, you are responsible for what your pets/children do.

#snake got an ask #anonymous #dni if you're an outdoor cat person /hj /srs

[meowza315]

i mean it when i say you might have my fave mike characterization ever with avatar au mike. it's what i love for regular or canon mike and you put it in gay lien form and it's great. I wish more people did it. idk he's... really soft around will and it's clearly so natural for him but to me he also seems confident or suave in other ways even as the newcomer to the world. and i LOVE that for mike. maybe it's his protective instincts i see too? basically I'm saying ...avatar mike is hot 😭 i'm sorry. even the way you sketch him lounging. no wonder will is heart eyes and draping himself into his arms all the time. he seems so at peace with mike and mike looks amazing, there's a difference between the two personalities and i look forward to seeing it every time you post. yeah mike's confidence is attractive uhh well done on making me feel things about gayliens!!!

THANK YOU!!

I love trying to keep them in character as much as I can, but it’s not always 100% possible because of the setting and the whole plot of the AU with how they live in the jungle and Will having to teach Mike about everything so he doesn’t end up dead. It’s not really in character for them to be doing so much physical activity as they are in the AU but it’s inevitable because they live in a jungle, it’s where the Omatikaya live. They have to do all these physical activities to get around and do daily tasks (which ultimately builds muscle on both of them because of it. I mean they’re climbing trees and running around so it makes sense).

idk how he even pulled Will tbh with how “stupid” he is. I say that in quotes cause I say it jokingly. I know he isn’t stupid he’s a smart guy canonically to ST and still is in the AU but Pandora is, even with him being BORN there, a new place. cause he wasn’t allowed to roam the forest with an exo pack at 12 like Spider was. it was for his safety cause he’d probably end up getting mauled by a thanator or a viperwolf and have 0 protection. I mean even then he still nearly dies at least 3 times (which Will makes fun of him for). It’s just more difficult to traverse and get around and get used to, you get me??

idk if I’d be comfortable saying he’s hot because of the fact that he’s still very much based off a character that is 14, even though in the AU they’re both aged up to be 16-19 (for 1: Mike being at least old enough that he’s not gonna get himself in a lot of trouble, he’s mature enough to not make stupid decisions basically. I mean, who’s gonna give 12 year old Mike Wheeler a whole other body that costs well over a million dollars to make? and 2: the story takes place over 3 years so they’re gonna age). he’s definitely attractive I’d say yeah but I’d just say he’s a handsome guy (cough the doodle I did above^^). One of my fears is them being all sexualized because they’re older and don’t really wear that much 😨 like they can be in love and not sexualized in the process if ykwim

I remember writing something about them having a conversation that ended up growing into Will pining over Mike (ex: how he’s a bit clumsy, the way he’s treated by Mike, which is essentially his kindness, how he’s a bit snarky or sassy sometimes, etc) and Mike kissing Will repetitively to satisfy that “longing” Will gets for Mike’s lips. It’s not just his appearance but his personality that draws him in, yk? The way they love each other just makes Will fall so much harder, even if Mike was the one that canonically fell first. I’ve had a thought of how their love language in this AU would be touch because of how they’re constantly touching or holding each other close when they’re in the forest together (and being romantic, not counting when they have conversations and are sitting idk. a foot or two apart. their relationship isn’t ALL kissy kissy romantic, even if it’s what it seems like from how I draw them). but obviously even if their love language is touch it doesn’t automatically mean they’re doing sexual things because.. um. it’s weird. and if they were touching each other in weird sexual ways or in areas that would seem sexual (the ass. no. and like. intimate areas. or even just each others chests in weird ways) both I and other people would be severely uncomfortable by that. they can love each other and be touchy without it being in a sexual way because, I can’t stress it enough, it’s WEIRD.

moral of the story (of that paragraph and the one above it) they can be in love and be the way they are in the AU without worry of being sexualized 🎉

I just ranted a LOT I apologize 💔💔 I would rant more but I think the post is long enough so 😭

#byler #byler au #byler avatar au #avatar au #mike wheeler #michael wheeler #will byers #william byers #stranger things #stranger things au

[fancyfade]

Thinking about One Year Later time skip that comics had and since my first comics I started reading a ton around this era for were Batfam, I generally was pretty neutral-to-positive on it, because I think many batfam comics (Batgirl excepting, getting into that soon) benefited from the OYL time skip or at least were not negatively affected. HOWEVER reading more comics that took place at that time I am getting more negative on it, so anyway here is my breakdown on which titles were benefited by the OYL time skip, were neither benefited nor harmed, and were harmed by the OYL time skip.

Benefited from the OYL time skip:

Nightwing: Look there are no words for how bad nightwing comics were before the time skip. I know they weren't great after the time skip either but Dick was in drastic need of like some status quo reset. He just got sent through whump city and spent a long time failing at everything.

Robin: Similarly tim's comics also sucked before OYL time skip. it was bad. Willingham had that american military fetish group. Sure tim's still edgy and angsty but at least he got out of that. Tim having time to collect himself after mourning was also a good thing.

Teen Titans: there are no words for how bad the start of geoff johns teen titans run is. it's bad. Geoff Johsn doesn't understand the characters, Cassie's main character trait is "girl". Yeah Geoff Johns is still the writer at first but the team switch up allows us to see some new characters.

Neither benefited nor harmed:

Outsiders: I think the idea of outsiders going under cover for a long time is a neat one, however the way winick handles it is not. i'd say they got some benefits in that the comics felt kind of disjointed and chaotic and they got a nice clean reset, but some drawbacks in that no anissa/grace falling in love on screen (just a flashback) and the intro-plotline to bring them back was stupid.

Birds of Prey: I think they end the Infinite crisis plotlines pretty well and start back up with the time skip fine. Just smooth sailing in general. But they also were not in dire need of a reset, so it's not like they needed the time skip.

Harmed by the OYL time skip:

Wonder Woman: Like. I feel like hypothetically ti could've been done OK. But it was not. it just cut Diana's ambassador time short, she had some nice tie-ins but it wasn't worthy it, and the satisfying development Rucka did for the greek gods was completely ignored and forgotten by every single other writer it's so frustrating. Fully convinced they didn't even care about WW1987 when starting WW2006

Aquaman: Sub Diego was just erased in the TIE IN comics for 52 like tie in comics for an event not even the event itself and certainly not the solo title. and then suddenly Aquaman's gone and replaced by another blond guy named Arthur Curry. the plotlines pre infintie crisis also felt pretty rushed to completion. like they clearly got cut off.

Batgirl 2000: IDK if this coutns, because they cancelled her comic (rather than unsatisfying continuation after time skip) but I'm counting it b/c from what I remember they cancelled her comic b/c they were playing around with the idea of having a kate kane batwoman solo and didn't want 2 female lead batman titles at the time, and kate kane came out of 52. however. can't remember the source so don't quote me on it. (also. ofc kate didn't get a solo either they had no female lead batman titles)

#one year later #dc comics #52 #infinite crisis #sort of #aquaman #wonder woman #nightwing #robin #outsiders 2003 #outsiders #teen titans 2003 #robin 1993 #nightwing 1996 #birds of prey 1998 #aquaman 2003 #wonder woman 1986

[johns-prince]

hi there! first of all, thank you for your blog!! it's really nice and idk, all those things you share with followers allow to have a better look at john and paul and their minds, which is precious! well, recently i've been searching for some discourse but failed to- so, it would be lovely to hear your opinion: a) does while my guitar gently weeps can be counted as an official™ mclennon song? ie to what extent it's a just frustrated song and to what - if any - it's about john and paul b) do you think george ever knew/suspected abt some shit between them? thank you in advance! and have a nice day/night 🤍

Hey! You're too sweet!

I dunno if my nonsensical ramblings about the Two Fools is very perceptive of their minds... But I'm glad some of it gets y'all thinkin'.

To try and answer your questions... I have heard and seen the theory that the Beatles/George's song ''While my Guitar Gently Weeps'' is somehow or somewhat relating to the relationship John and Paul shared. Unfortunately, I'm not one of those fans/mclennoners who truly believes that the song was written with John and Paul in mind.

This song was, apparently, written during the spring of 1968, which we know is when the boys all went out to India to "find themselves" or what have you. We all have an idea what went down in India, or what didn't, at least between John and Paul while they'd holed up and shared a room together there for a good portion of the time.

We know how the trip ended, and how the rest of 1969 turned out as it led into 1969, the beginning of the end.

I'm not too knowledgeable about the reasoning behind the song that George has given, other than I know it was definitely influenced by their time over in India, and George's ever developing spiritualism.

At the time, George's ever growing frustration that John and Paul weren't taking his songwriting abilities seriously were also coming to a head.

In fact, why there may be the theory that ''While my Guitar Gently Weeps'' is considered a lowkey quote-unquote McLennonTM song is because of the fact that George was expressing open frustration towards The Beatles, but specifically John and Paul, and the relationship he expressly believed he had been barred from--that is, their collaborative relationship and partnership. George always felt left out by John and Paul, even though there's examples of the two trying to make attempts in recognizing George's talent and abilities throughout the years. That, and if you do listen to the lyrics with McLennon on the mind, the song does sound like it could be about John and Paul's relationship (and the Beatles relationship as a band as a whole) from George's perspective.

I don't think I'm making sense but to answer your second question might just bring it all together my thought process here, so stick with me!

I believe that George had an inkling, a suspicion, of the kind of relationship John and Paul had, but did not have a complete understanding of it, or simply did not want to have a complete and unfettered understanding of the depths that John and Paul's relationship transcended. I do think George was envious of the collabortive relationship between John and Paul, and always felt like the odd one out, or the one left to "play marbles" with Ringo, while it was often just John and Paul, running off and writing music together.

Sure, George was Paul's first friend and best friend as kids, playing guitars first together, growing up like brothers, but it was John that took Paul's confidante and partner. Sure, George at some point, sort of idolized John in that "he's older and cooler" type of way, y'know George and John buddies and pals, and often times clearly wanted John's approval and to be treated as an equal collaborator to John as Paul is, but he wasn't, and he couldn't be, simply because George wasn't Paul. Even when John was on his whole "I hate the Beatles I hate Paul" tirade after the divorce, and George was totally on John's side of it... No matter, George could not get the same treatment or placement beside John as the likes that Paul had held, and still held, all that time.

“George did have a slight inferiority complex, although nothing serious. Cyn remembers him always hanging around when she wanted John on his own. So does Astrid, when she was trying to be alone with Stu.”

— On George Harrison’s youth, The Beatles: The Only Ever Authorised Biography by Hunter Davies [x]

I believe George was definitely aware of the dynamics in the band, and very aware of John and Paul's relationship and partnership. To what extent in the relationship part... I couldn't say. Though, I do think George knew something was up, especially as the years went on...

HADDAD: Then, your musical ambitions didn’t really begin to take form until the two of you joined with John Lennon? GEORGE: Paul and John were the spark that ignited The Beatles. Of course, we weren’t The Beatles then, and we didn’t have Ringo, but that was the start. The air was filled with excitement, and even though we went through silly names like The Quarrymen Skiffle Group, The Moondogs, The Moonshiners, and The Silver Beatles, before evolving into that group everyone grew to know and love, the crucible was in 1967 [sic; 1957] when John and Paul became a duo.”

— George Harrison, interview w/ M. George Haddad for Men Only. (November, 1978) [x]

“I think everybody was in love with everybody else permanently during the Sixties, you know. I would have been surprised if any of our friends had not all been in love with each other. You know, there’s sex and there’s love. And I think the Sixties period, there was a genuine love for mankind, generally. I’m very liberal, actually, very liberal person. “

— George Harrison, radio interview excerpt [x]

Simply put, I personally don't believe ''As my Guitar Gently Weeps'' is about John and Paul's relationship, at least not directly, and if it was influenced by them, I would say it would have been an amalgamation of frustration from George's point of view towards his relationship with the Beatles, and with John and Paul's odd and exclusive relationship and partnership.

I do think George suspected something going on with John and Paul, between John and Paul, but to the extent that he was privy too? I couldn't say. George was aware of them though, especially if he truly believed that John and Paul officially became a duo in 1967 (which is THE peak McLennon year, fyi) so he wasn't oblivious.

#questionsquestionsquestions #mclennon #george harrison #hope this wasn't just rambling gobbleygook!

[rancidpancakebatter]

tasm!peter parker

like honestly i’m not sure how to exactly set this up, but like a mini series of like a friends to lovers but the reader already has been in a relationship for like three years or something and she finally realizes that her partner isn’t really fulfilling the role of her partner in the relationship and seeks out help from peter and gwen ? idk i just thought this quote from my favorite movie would fit that, like she should try to make her relationship work or just end it ? idk you know i love you so we’ll see what happens next, i’ll love any direction you’d want to approach it with ! 😊💗🫶🏼🫶🏼

🎥: before we go

brooke dalton:
it’s possible, isn't it? it’s possible that you could meet somebody who's perfect for you even though you're committed to somebody else.

nick vaughan:
no, no, see, i think if you're committed to somebody, you don't allow yourself to find perfection in someone else.

Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter One

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

 Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen doesn’t go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Norman isn’t dying the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record so Peter and Harry are besties.

Word Count: 3.8k

Content Warnings: Swearing, Drinking (Of age), Skeezy men, Blatant objectification of reader, Norman Osborne (I dunno if that's really a warning but like he's gross and a terrible father so I'm listing it)

Previous | | Next

A/N: So sorry this took so long @scorpiolystoned! I got caught up in a lot of stuff and it took a second but the first chapter is FINALLY HERE! I'm having fun with this one :))

You were at yet another fundraiser in yet another gown that cost more than your monthly rent, talking to yet another stuffy old man who felt the need to make his opinion known. You smiled politely as he continued to tell you how your generation's greatest issue was a lack of work ethic, which was rich coming from a man who inherited his ten-million-dollar mansion upstate. You were on your third glass of champagne and considering getting a brandy instead. Anything that might make this conversation less painful. 

Normally you would have no issue telling him off- rattling off about the lies sold to the working class by the privileged elite- but alas, you were here with your boyfriend, and you couldn’t taint his reputation. Harry would be inheriting Oscorp one day and would need these men to like him to keep it running. So you bit your tongue and plastered on a fake smile. 

You said nothing about how insane they all sounded. You said nothing about the racist comments they made about their housekeepers. You said nothing about the skeezy comments they would make about you. You said nothing, because here: women are trophies, not people. 

You hated going to these events but you loved Harry. You knew he didn’t like them much either, constantly having to defend his capability and intelligence to men who claim he’s just an idiot boy with a well-respected father.

He asked you to come to keep him sane. However, he was nowhere to be seen. There was no one to save you from this creepy man asking if college was really the right move because it would be better to settle down, “it would be a shame to waste all that beauty.” 

You politely excused yourself and made your way to the bar. One benefit of snobby, elitist parties: open bars. You ordered something top-shelf and strong while you fished your phone from your clutch. You sent out a text to Harry letting him know where you were and asking him to come back to your side. You sat there for an hour, nursing your second drink, until he came back. 

“Hey babe, sorry about that. My dad reintroduced me to some shareholders and I couldn’t get away.” He gave you a peck on the lips and he sat down next to you. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and his arm draped over the back of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re more than ready to leave.” You told him you were and he nodded. 

As he looked at his watch he sucked his teeth. “If we leave now it’ll be too soon. Can you hang in another hour?” 

You pouted at him and he leaned into you, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You shivered as he kissed just below your ear. He placed his hands in yours as his kisses started trailing lower. 

“Okay, okay. You win.” A smile stretched across his face and you swatched his chest. “But you better not abandon me again. I mean it, Osborn.”

He playfully winces as he stands from his chair, “Ooh, last name. She’s serious.”

He gave you another peck on the lips, “I promise.” 

And with that, you let him lead you back into the horde. 

You made small talk and you played the role of a doting, hype man. To be fair, you didn’t really have to fake that. You loved Harry. It wasn’t hard to gush about his accomplishments, you were immensely proud of him. However you had to format your adoration differently for this crowd, and you hated that. 

An hour turned into two, which turned into three. Eventually, you pulled him aside and told him you were ready to go. You felt gross and emotionally exhausted. Harry said he still couldn’t leave but looking at your face he knew you were done.

He called you a cab and told you he would see you later. You hated leaving without him but understood. After a shower, you got ready for bed. You tried to stay up for him but the drinks you had made your eyes heavy and soon you were drifting off to sleep. 

You woke up the next morning in an empty bed. You checked your phone to see Harry had texted you. 

“I went home with my father last night. Have a good day of classes.” You pushed away the sadness you felt and sent him a text saying you would, asking if you would see him today. 

You got up and ready and made your way to a cafe just off campus. Every Monday, you went to Cafè Luna and met up with your friends before class. It was a lovely tradition that began about a year ago when you all discussed how abhorrent you found Mondays. This was a good way to make sure everyone started off on a good note. 

You pulled at the glass door and were greeted by the smell of cocoa, butter, sugar, bread, and coffee. A mix that always made you happy. You got in line, pondering what kind of breakfast you wanted today. You could go for the classic breakfast sandwich, or possibly a sweet treat would brighten your mood more. You decided on both, knowing Gwen would split whatever confectionary you got. 

As you got to the counter, you gave the cashier your order and handed her Harry’s card. You grabbed a table while you waited for your order to be called out. Just then, two of your three favourite people walked in. You smiled as Gwen waved, rushing towards you to wrap you in a hug. She kissed you on the cheek before separating. Peter beamed at you as well and enveloped you in a firm hug.

You would never tell anyone, but he was the best hugger in the group by far. He always hugged with just enough strength to make you feel warm and safe but not enough to hurt or feel trapped. 

Once in your unofficial seating chart, Peter looks around the shop. “Where’s Harry?” 

You force a smile, trying not to let your own disappointment show. “He’s at his dad’s. I’m not sure he’s gonna make it today.”

Peter huffed, letting his lips flap together at the end. “Bummer, I was hoping to see ole Harr-Harr.”

You nodded in understanding, wishing for the same. You couldn’t get too lost in your thoughts as you heard your name called from across the cafe. 

You stood from your chair, “Sorry guys, I already ordered. I was pretty hungry.”

They both reassured you that it was fine. Peter stood from the table as well. “I’ll go get in line.” 

He kissed Gwen on the forehead before walking across the store with you. You grabbed your food and headed back to the table. You placed your cinnamon roll between you and Gwen and passed her a fork.

She feigned innocence, claiming she couldn’t possibly take your food, but eventually gave in when you pointed out how big it was. This was a local shop, and they made all their baked goods in huge sizes. The cinnamon roll between you was almost as big as your hand. 

Peter soon returned with his and Gwen’s orders. Gwen thanked him with a kiss on the cheek as Peter casually draped his arm around her. You smiled at the couple and the domesticity they displayed. It was sweet. 

“So,” Gwen asked pulling you from your thoughts, “How was your weekend?” 

You told her about how you spent most of it preparing for Oscorp's last fundraiser. Norman did a fundraiser once a month, cycling through different organizations and causes.

Last night was for Cerebral Palsy. There was a giant check for a cool million dollars on display in the Osborn name. You hated that charity was thrown around in this way, as a power grab, but you guess there are worst things they could do with their money. 

Because of Harry’s absence this morning your friends could sympathise with you openly. 

“Yikes, I don’t miss those.”

“How many guys commented on your dress?”

You chuckled, “Yeah Pete, you’re real lucky and only two men commented on my dress. However, three commented on my hips, and six on how beautiful I was.”

Gwen grimaced while Peter looked between the two of you, confused. “I don’t understand. Being called beautiful is bad?” He looked directly at Gwen, “Should I not call you that anymore?”

She chuckles and places a hand over his heart. You watch Peter physically calm at the act. “No, but there’s a certain way in which some men say that doesn’t really mean ‘you’re beautiful.’”

“It means, ‘I see you as a sex object and I am imagining having sex with you right now as we are talking.’” You helpfully supplied. 

Gwen raised a finger and pointed it at you with a look of “she’s right.” Peter scrunched up his face in disgust. 

“Ew, men are pigs.” You both hummed in agreeance as you tore into your breakfast sandwich. 

They told you of their weekend: Dinner at Mays and a nice night in. You tried not to be jealous. You wished that you could do that sort of stuff with Harry. He always wanted to go out, spend money, be seen. You wished that your attention was enough. 

You almost got lost in your conversation about work when you caught a glimpse of your phone on the table. You usually kept it in your purse, but you were hoping to get a message from Harry. 

“Oh shit! Sorry, I gotta run or I’ll be late for class.” You gathered your stuff and hugged your friends goodbye. 

This was a nice tradition, you thought. Your Monday definitely felt a lot better. 

You walked out of your last class and sent another text to Harry. He still hadn’t replied to your earlier one from this morning. 

“Hey! Missed you at Luna’s today. I’m on my way home.”

You didn’t officially live with Harry, but you might as well. For the past four months, you spent almost every night there. He had made space for you and your things. You had your products in the bathroom and your snacks in the cupboard. Really you only went home for more clothes or if he was busy with work. You knew he appreciated his space when he was working. 

As you sat on the subway, you tapped your foot to the beat of the music pumping in your headphones while considering what you would make for dinner tonight, what Harry would want to eat. You scrolled through Pinterest to form ideas. 

When you got to the lobby, the doorman greeted you as always. You had given Harry a key to your place ages ago, and in return, he added you to his “list”.

Harr lived in a very expensive Manhatten penthouse, and with its security and staff, you couldn’t enter without him. He didn’t really use a key because he had a private elevator. So instead, he registered you with the building so you could come and go as you please. 

When you exited the elevator you called out for him, but it seemed he wasn’t home. You dropped off your stuff and took shower. You loved his shower. The water pressure was amazing and the water never got cold.

As you stepped out you wrapped yourself in his robe and reapplied your makeup in the mirror. Your hair was still wrapped in product, being shaped just right, when you started getting dressed.

Harry still hadn’t texted you back but that wasn’t unheard of. He often got caught up in his work. You knew it could be stressful for him though and you wanted him to come back home to no worries. You put on his favourite lingerie set and one of his dress shirts. You twirled and posed in the mirror, feeling quite good about yourself. 

He would be home in about three hours which gave you time to make something for dessert too. You rummage around the fridge and decide on homemade gnocchi, served with a white cheese sauce, asparagus, and buttered scallops. For dessert, you think, a simple fruit tart.

You get to work juggling various doughs and many burners. When you had a minute, you set the table and picked out a red wine that you thought would pair well with the dish. You wanted to arrange flowers for the table, but unfortunately, you didn’t have any, and you didn’t want to risk losing time getting dressed and running down the block. 

The penthouse smelled fantastic, and you were proud of your work. You had been dancing around a playlist comprised of “American Standards”. Your hips swayed to the likes of Etta James, Nat King Cole, Bobby Darin, and Doris Day as you made sure everything looked perfect. You missed Harry today and hoped this would put him in a good mood. 

You heard your name being called into the space and your feet carried you to the source. Your smile was grand as you jumped onto your toes to throw your arms around his neck. You buried your face into him, conscious of your makeup. 

“Hey, Harr-Bear! I missed you!” His arms slowly wrapped around you, but the hold felt foreign. 

“Uh, yeah, me too.” He stepped away from you, and his brow furrowed as he looked you over.

“What are you wearing?” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of the shirt, suddenly feeling small. 

“I…I know you like it when I wear your clothes, and I- I just thought that maybe you had a hard day, so I wanted to- to surprise you.” Harry looked more than stressed, he looked scared. 

He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. His hand came up to his hair as he looked around. 

“(Y/n), I need you to-”

The elevator door opened, and it was too late. The warning he tried to give you was futile as you saw an all too familiar face walk into the room. 

Oh shit.

His dad. 

He wore a smile you hesitate to call forced. To force a smile, you must put effort into it, but in Norman’s endless quest to evade age- death, really- he had gotten a lot of work done. This resulted in a permanent crooked smile, and brows that looked just a little too high. You had no issue with people getting cosmetic surgery; whatever makes you feel more comfortable, ya know?

But you did have a problem with Norman Osborn. And you had a huge issue with him seeing you in your current state. Panic. Full blown panic. All you can think is “hide!” So you do.

“The scallops!” You ran back to the kitchen as the smell of them roasting wafted through the air. 

As you hastily flip them, you look down at your “outfit”. The shirt you picked was thin, almost sheer, making the black set you wore underneath entirely obvious. You might as well be running around naked.

The only way to get to Harry’s room is to cross the living room and run up the stairs, but that means you would have to pass Norman, who is no doubt, doing his surveillance of Harry’s space- being sure to throw in as many passive aggressive comments about his son’s life and design choices. 

“Smells delicious in here. Did you cook, Harold?” You hate when he calls him that, and so does Harry. It’s just another reminder that he will never be his own achievements, only his name. 

You look across the stove. There isn’t enough there for three. You wished Harry had mentioned bringing his father back with him. You would have prepared better.

You considered, for a moment, ducking into the pantry and just waiting for him to leave. He would never need to know you were here. But he probably heard your exclamation and saw you run. Hiding wasn’t much of an option. 

“Oh, well hello (L/n).” You felt your blood run cold. 

Slowly you turned to see Norman just in the threshold of the kitchen. His forced smile is now a smirk that makes you nauseous as his eyes trail over your body. 

“Dr Osborn.” You try to sound respectful, but it comes out curter than you intended. 

Harry is standing behind him, always in his shadow. His eyes were wide, full of shock and horror. 

“Is that what you’re planning to wear for dinner?” He still had yet to make eye contact, and it took all of your strength not to curl up in a ball and hide from his gaze. 

“I-No, I uh. I’m sorry I wasn’t expecting you. I was just about to change, but I didn’t want anything to burn.” You try to smile as you start pulling things off the burners. 

“Harrold, man the stove so your girlfriend can change into something that doesn’t look like it was made for a costume in an adult film.”

Only then does Harry jump into action to save you. He awkwardly enters behind his father, who doesn’t move to let him by, and grabs the tongs from your hand.

Your feet carry you quickly across the polished hardwood, and once on the stairs, you can feel Norman’s eyes on you. You pull the shirt down, a feeble attempt to cover your ass, but it doesn’t do much. When you finally close the door behind you, you feel like crying. This was so humiliating. 

You hate Norman. He’s so gross and has no problem ogling you (in anything you wear) while talking down to you. He was never much of a fan of yours.

You didn’t come from money, going up poor in Brooklyn. You weren’t a super genius. You weren’t even interested in science. When you first met Harry, you didn’t even know who he was, but obviously, you only liked him for his money. Norman had more than once commented on the idea of a prenup. 

The first time Harry introduced you to his father, it felt more like an interrogation. He grilled you on your studies and your prospects, and your past. Any answer you gave left him with his scowl well in place. Harry didn’t offer much comfort, but you quickly realised that Norman also made Harry upset, just in a very different way.

He held a lot of contempt for his father. He told you about how he shipped him off for school and never reached out. He didn’t like him, that was for sure, but he ran the chequebook. He ran the business Harry thought was his birthright, but Norman is a calloused narcissist, and Harry knows if he pisses him off too much, he’ll give the company to someone else, just out of spite. 

You put on an agreeable dress Harry had bought for occasions such as these. Dating Harry came with its own culture, in a way. Most of it revolves around a walk-in closet. This was a casual dinner, but in respect for the calibre of the guest you have to dress up a bit. But not too much. Additionally, it's an evening affair, so a certain colour pallet is in order.

This was a black sundress from some Italian import you couldn’t pronounce. Dainty straps rested on your shoulders, and the hem fell just above your knees. It had a modest V cut, and Harry had instructed you to always wear it with jewellery lest you look bare. You selected a thin gold chain with a small heart pendant, a gift for your first anniversary, and subtle hoops to match. You threw half of your hair up in a clip, and slipped on some black heels to go with it, the stark red on the tread peeking out with every step you took. 

As you made your way back downstairs, they were deep in conversation. You nervously joined Harry’s side, and he wrapped an arm around your waist. Norman commented on how you “clean up nice,” and you had to swallow the bile creeping up your throat to thank him. 

Norman made a comment in regards to what a terrible host you were, “I’ve been here nearly thirty minutes, and no one’s offered me a drink.”

While he said “no one”, which could be either you or Harry, you knew he meant you. You hadn’t served him yet. Harry tenses at the comment, and you quickly try to correct the mistake. You step away to the bar cart to fix Norman a whiskey with one large ice cube and make the same for Harr. Only Harry thanks you as you bring them back.

You all move to the seating area as they continue to talk business. You learned very quickly that you were not allowed to chime in on these discussions. You nodded attentively and sat by Harry. After a bit, you suggested they sit at the table for dinner.

You nervously plate the gnocchi and scallops, deciding you will take significantly less than Norman and Harry. You can’t always make something later. You just have to survive this. 

You set the plates in front of them and grabbed the wine, knowing you were served last. As you poured Norman’s glass, he cleared his throat. You looked up, and he pointed at his plate with an unmistakably fake smile. 

“Is this pasta?” You slowly nodded your head.

“I have celiac. This will wreak havoc on my body.” Harry immediately started apologising, throwing you under the bus, as Norman “kindly” explained that he couldn’t have gluten. 

You gripped the wine bottle dangerously in your hands. “I can have a steak ready for you in ten minutes.”

That seemed to placate the man as you filled Harry’s glass and took his plate back to the kitchen. You turned on the oven and put in your serving of asparagus before pulling a steak out of the fridge.

You practised the breathing exercises your therapist had taught you while the steak seared. Honestly, it could be worse. At least being in the kitchen gave you time away. 

You nuked the plate you had taken from Norman and plated the steak, throwing on the asparagus and putting the sauce in a little bowl on the side.

You replaced Harry’s plate with the warm one and presented Norman with his. Then pour yourself a hearty glass of wine, ignoring Norman’s stare, before sitting down with your cold plate of gnocchi. 

They talked about their days, occasionally asking for comments from you. You tried your best to answer and pay attention, but all you could think about was how your homemade pasta was cold. About how this was supposed to be a pleasant night with Harry, and now, you were dealing with this.

Taglist: @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy, @cherriescherriesred25, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield spiderman x reader #andrew peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter parker #tasm 2 #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter imagine #the amazing spider man #spiderman #peter Parker imagines #spider-man imagines #spiderman x y/n #spider man x reader #spider man x you #spider man x y/n #best friend peter parker #rancid writes #rancid replys

[descendinginto-madness]

your first and final chance.

word count: 618

content warnings: injury & death, description of a death scene (mild gore)

summary: welt yang is a smart man. sometimes, it does him more harm than good.

both the story and the author's note contain spoilers for 2.1 hsr update!

author's note: ookay. so. oh my god. ummm 😋 welt x gallagher gone terribly wrong! "ship so good they kill each other" to quote my friend. though! here we just have an implied past relationship. but i'll write something nice for them idk man i just!! can see them together!! idk what i'm doing though!! idk man. i'm sorry if they're ooc once i have more time i might take this fic and make it longer and uh. also here. my assumption is that welt guessed something's wrong abt gallagher (we all know there is) and yaaaaaa idk man.idk!! i love rambling fr

“I'll give you one chance to surrender, Mr. Yang.”

Welt looks at Gallagher when he speaks; the man’s smile is all the same, just like before, but there's a hint of something else in his eyes. Something… Dangerous - though not enough to scare Welt; there are few things that would actually manage to do that. 

Of course, it’s already clear to him this won't be a peaceful conversation, as Gallagher has initially promised— he expected it much earlier, the moment the Hound requested they talk. He's confident in his own abilities, though; even going against something the nature of he doesn't necessarily fully understand. 

If the others were here with him - if he'd allow them to accompany him in the first place - he’d likely feel different. He'd be more cautious. But he's alone right now, and that means that he doesn't have to pay that too much mind - for now, at least.

So, to Gallagher’s words, he only raises his eyebrows slightly. 

“Is this the real reason why you wanted to see me?”

Gallagher laughs quietly. 

“Yes and no. You're a bit too observant, Mr. Yang.” He steps closer, but Welt doesn't move; his grip on his cane only tightens a little bit. “I won't lie, I'm impressed, but I can't just allow you to run around with this knowledge, risking that you’ll expose me, can I?” He raises his hand, and his thumb brushes against Welt's cheek gently. A while ago, perhaps he'd like to lean into this touch. Right now, it's not comforting, but rather feels… filthy. He doesn't let anything of that show, though; he's letting Gallagher talk. “The thought of having to get rid of you is pretty upsetting, though. I thought I'll invite you here, and maybe we'll be able to come to an agreement.”

Welt frowns at these words.

“I won't negotiate with you,” he says. His voice is calm, but cold. “Nor join forces with you.”

“Ah.” The Hound looks at him with a thoughtful smile, before taking a step back, his hand falling back to his side. “I see. I thought you might be willing to, since you came here, and confronted me about what you had discovered before sharing it with your trusted companions– but I guess I was wrong.”

There's warmth coming to Welt's face, a slightest hint of red on his cheeks, barely noticeable but still there - embarrassment, perhaps. It is true; he chose to settle this privately first, for a reason not particularly clear even to him. He knows he has misplaced his trust once again, and yet something stopped him from exposing Gallagher as the murderer first thing.

He doesn't want to dwell on it too much right now. He will have time later. 

“But that means I don't really have a choice,” Gallagher adds. Perhaps he'd scare someone else with such a statement; Welt doesn't feel much, though.

“What makes you think that it'll be easy to get rid of me, Mr. Gallagher?” he asks.

The other man just laughs.

“It might be much easier than you think, Mr. Yang.”

Welt opens his mouth to reply, but then a shadow appears behind him.

Despite his age his reflexes are still well, his body still quite agile, but the Death is faster; he barely has any time to react, to even process what's happening, before something pierces through his body. It's accompanied by a blood-curdling screech and tears through his body, ripping his flesh, crushing the bones in its way. Blood splatters around the room when Gallagher's silhouette fades as his vision becomes blurry and then goes entirely dark.

“...What a shame,” Gallagher says, looking at the pool of blood on the floor, and laughs. 

divider by @/cafekitsune

#angstpril2024 #honkai star rail #fanfiction #day17 #last chance #hsr #welt yang #gallagher #tw death #tw injury #tw blood #dim writing ☁️

[mayonnaisetoffees]

Oversharing on the Internet

Tagged by: @mistmarauder 🧡 (I can respond to these in a timely manner! Who knew? Though I always say waaaaay too much hence the readmore)

ONE: Are you named after anyone? My middle name was for my mum's great-nana I think? Maybe great-grandma and I only think great-nana because we only had a great-nana. But not my first name, no. But fun fact: My parents ONLY had one name for a girl. If my younger sibling had been born a girl they'd have been fuuuucked. (Also part of why I keep my name despite it being v much female-coded because like I earnt this. Also, like... it's my name. It fits me, thought I more often than not get confused seeing it written down because like that's my verbal name, Mayo is my written name.)

TWO: When was the last time you cried? Last week? Little sleep + stress of moving = lots of tears at random times.

THREE: Do you have kids? Nope! Don't have pets either. I wanna foster/adopt/support (probably older kids/teenagers) at some point but not for a few years and I absolutely do not want bio kids. Pregnancy freaks me the fuck out.

FOUR: Do you use sarcasm a lot? Fairly often? I can't even tell anymore tbh like I just talk, even I'm barely paying attention to what I'm saying half the time! Less so online I think (this is where people are like nah mate you do that here too) because it's definitely been misunderstood before - sometimes making me look very daft and I'm like I don't know you people well enough to say that that was what is called a joke

FIVE: What sports have you played/do you play? I never found one I liked apart from, like, bench-ball. The fact that there aren't (that I've found at least) casual places to play bench ball as an adult is a fucking travesty.

SIX: What's the first thing you notice about people? Their smile/laugh/sense of humour? I'm really bad with faces, but if someone laughs or makes a joke pretty soon after I meet them, I remember them a lot more easily. Online it's definitely like the quirks of their writing style.

SEVEN: What's your eye colour? Brown! Pretty dark brown too so like none of the "ooh it's got XYZ in it in the light" it has brown with hints of brown

EIGHT: Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings - I am the biggest wimp with scary films. I was part of the "let's go hang in the kitchen with the leftover pizza/snacks" gang if horror films came on at a sleepover!

NINE: Any special talents? I'm not the biggest fan of cake, but by god will I make the best cake you've tasted. I can also do a good mix CD (less good at specific playlists because playlists it's just a big mess of great songs) and I can flick through to the right page in a book for a quote pretty easily - drove some people mad in English because people would be trying to find it for like five minutes and I'd just be like drrrrrrrr (idk how to write the noise for fanning through the pages) There!

TEN: Where were you born? At home, south of England (I'm very much Northern, being there for like two memories max one of which was falling asleep indoors doesn't count 😂). I can't remember if it was me or my older brother this happened for, but my mum went into labour in the middle of the night and woke my dad up and was like "The baby is coming" and my dear father went "If you still think so in half an hour, wake me up again" and rolled back over. Needless to say, he was not, in fact, allowed to go back to sleep. He also hates that story so we tell it as often as possible 😇

ELEVEN: What are your hobbies? Uhh I watch a lot of TV? 😂 I need to get more hobbies that get me outside tbh. But I podfic, I knit sometimes when I'm watching stuff and I play games when I watch stuff, I cook a lot, I bake, I like long walks on the beach actually I like reasonable length walks by rivers/green areas or along the promenade if I'm at the beach because sand (Anakin Skywalker was right and he should say it).

TWELVE: Do you have any pets? Nope! Just moved, but I used to help look after my friends' dog every so often - she's a black cockapoo called Luna and I love her dearly but she also made me realise if I do get a dog, I don't want a puppy. They are a lot of work. Which makes sense because they are literally baby

THIRTEEN: How tall are you? 5'7", please don't ask me for the metric - I haven't had to be measured in a while so I only know it in imperial. I wanna say like 167cm maybe? Does that sound right???

FOURTEEN: Favourite subject in school? English (Language over Lit) or French 100%. I always say that my optional GCSEs were all basically an extension of my skills in English (AKA bullshitting): Religious Studies (taught tbh as Christianity + a few other examples), French, Spanish (both still bullshitting just in another language), and Drama (absolutely bullshitting and also in my case scaring the shit out of an examiner because the plate smashed into lots of pieces that flew everywhere rather than just a few in a controlled space like it had in rehearsal)

FIFTEEN: Dream job? God I miss working in a cafe/events. But they don't pay the bills as well! Also like I would ideally want to do my current job 3 days a week and a manual job 2 but like without having to work lots of extra hours to keep on top of both, yk?

Tagging: @glaftwlet @emryses @snapshotmaestro @idyllic-idioms @alloverthegaf and idk anyone else who wants to do it! Brain empty can't remember usernames

#tag game

[regardingjenmish]

I'm so confused about the con too. I thought all promotions and stuff are supposed to be stopped during the strike?? or maybe because the show is already completed it doesn't count as "promotion"???

From what I’ve read, conventions can continue however actors are not allowed to talk about future work or their past work. Idk if the rules are still the same (I’d think they are since the longer the strike, the stricter the rules) but to my understanding they can’t talk about spn or anything like that. Which tbh could be fun because it gives room for other type of questions. But i guess we’ll have to wait and see what they’re allowed to ask/answer (bc I’m not 100% sure on anything so don’t quote me on it)

#anonymous #or better yet we’ll have to wait and see if any of them end up releasing statements that they fucked up dhdjsklsw

[matchademi]

5, 9, 21, 23, 25 Falls, Tic, and Sooool plssss vod’ikaaaa 💙💙💙 (no rush tho)

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Falls:he is so selfless that he would happily give up his own life for his brothers. He has, on a few occasions, given his own blood to brothers while working to keep them alive. He is gotten scolded by his brothers in the 501st and the Corrie guard for this, but he doesn't care

Tic: If he could tear apart the galaxy together his old battalion back he would in a heart beat, he would be considered a deserter risk when he first joined the Corrie guard

Sol: he would happily volunteer himself for decommissioning if it meant he could stop it from happening permanently. He would never tell anyone this but he has threated to several times

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

Falls:pretty much the entire song, but this line specifically

"Called to the Devil and the Devil said

Hey! Why you been calling this late?

It's like 2 A.M. and the bars all close at 10 in hell, that's a rule I made

Anyway, you say you're too busy saving everybody else to save yourself

And you don't want no help, oh well

That's the story to tell"

Tic: This makes me think of his grief of losing his battalion

"But i know wounds will heal

But it's hard for me to tell what's fake and what's real

Sometimes i even think that i died that day

And i'm imagining my life and it's stuck on replay"

Sol:we all know the song I think about for him, but it's this line specifically

"I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringin'

Roman Cavalry choirs are singin'

Be my mirror, my sword and shield

My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason, I can't explain

Once you'd gone, there was never, never an honest word

And that was when I ruled the world"

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

Fall:As I said, he gets really bad migraines after removing his chip, but honestly, his biggest issue is his ADHD. He has the inattentive type, so he'll either not do anything for hours or spend days hyper focusing on something

Tic:he deals with tics (not like tourettes but just small tics. I deal with them a lot), and after losing his battalion, he ended up with a trauma induced stutter, and his tics get worse

Sol:Not so many illnesses or disorders, but his knee injury really starts to get worse as time goes on. After he left Kamino, he would need crunches and a leg bracefor years. He hates it but if he trys to go without them he gets screamed at

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Honestly, for me, this is a one answer fits all (plus I spent like 10 minutes looking at lists of emotions, but I'm autistic so I don't really understand them oop) and that is feeling safe (idk if that's a emotion but let's all roll with it) they have all gone through their own personal hells and so feeling safe is not easy for any of them. Tic is the most obvious after losing his battalion he will for a long time feel like he will lose everyone he cares for again after joining the corrie guards. Falls has had to always look over his shoulder and be one of the best to avoid decommissioning. And Sol never fully released he felt so unsafe on Kamino till he left

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

Falls:he was my first clone oc in this Fandom, and he allowed me to connect to a lot of other people. Also, his kindness and willingness to help others, even if it's out of his comfort zone

Tic:he is me in a lot of ways with the stuttering and ticking, and it's nice to have a character to show that part of me

Sol:he is just pure sunshine (also, he shows now love for kids, especially my nephews )

#clone medic falls #oc:trooper tic #oc:commander sol #clone medic oc #clone trooper oc #clone commander oc #star wars #the clone wars #i love them so much AHH

[sophie-avocado-girl]

Just some random facts about my MMFC OCs

1. Melissa/Mess:

Age by human standards: 14-16 y.o.

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual and demisexual

Voice: Sunset Shimmer from "MLP Equestria Girls"

Best quote: –"Don't mess with Mess!"

Random fact: She feels an interest in Bert, but what kind of interest? This is still not entirely clear

2. Lou:

Age: idk honestly, he's spider, idk which age he can have

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Biromantic

Voice: I don't know if this counts as a voice, but he communicates by beeping like Morse code

Best quote: –"Q-bob k-beep k-boop, q-bob k-boop k-beep k-beep q-bob k-beep k-beep! (translate: Even though I'm just a spider, I can fly like a butterfly and sting like a bee!)

Random fact: He likes the Spider-Man movies

3. Rita Carter:

Age: 14-15 y.o.

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Pansexual

Voice: Izzy Moonbow from "MLP New generation"

Best quote: –"Even in the depths of the soul of the nastiest human or robot there is goodness, you just need to look carefully and believe!"

Random fact: She dreams of becoming a singer

4. Claws Woman

Age: 25-30 y.o.

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Asexual

Voice: Queen Chrysalis from MLP

Best quote: –"Now tell me Mega Man, which do you side with: robots, or humans?"

Random fact: She’s the most traumatized among all my OCs

2nd random fact: Mess, Lou and Fog Man are the only ones Claws Woman allows herself to be touched and and they’re only ones that she does never hurt

5. Fog Man

Age by human standards: 30 y.o.

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Demiromantic

Voice: Hector from "Coco"

Best quote: –"Fear is like fog, when you are afraid, it wraps around you, and nothing is visible except for it"

Random fact: Unlike my other OCs-antagonists, he has no specific purpose

—🥑✨

#mmfc oc #mega man fully charged oc #mega man fully charged #megaman fully charged #mmfc #mmfc au #oc #ocs #mess #mmfc mess #mmfc lou #lou the robot spider #rita carter #mmfc rita #claws woman #mmfc claws woman #fog man #mmfc fog man

[icarus-suraki]

dawn, sunburn, sunflower <3

dawn: describe your life with a movie title. Am I supposed to come up with a movie title or use an existing one? What is this asking me? What are the parameters here? Can I use direct-to-video stuff? Is pornography allowed? Could I use the fake porn title of Seven Rears in Tibet? Can it be an English-language title that has nothing to do with the title in the original language? How sarcastic am I allowed to be?

Yeah, no, I can't figure out how to answer this one. I'm just falling down a rabbit hole of movie lists on Wikipedia.

sunburn: what is your favourite hobby? What do you like about it? I feel weird about "hobbies." I've never really thought of things people would count as "hobbies" to be "hobbies." That sounds snobby lmao. But IDK I just did things. I never thought of them as "hobbies" because they never showed up on lists of popular hobbies. I'm gonna say "hobbies" some more so get ready for that.

At the moment, I'm enjoying sewing and making cosplays quite a lot. I admire people who can do all this foam armor and LED lights and animatronic stuff, and I might take on some of those things someday. But right now I'm enjoying figuring out how to best represent or reproduce something in an image in real life. Like how can I get this to drape like that in real life? Or given this character's backstory, would they be more likely to have clothes made of this or that? I like playing with those ideas, which sometimes gets me into trouble. I do bite off more than I can chew, so it's good I'm holding back on the animatronics and all. But I do like studying images and saying "the fuck kind of fabric is that?" or "yeah, no, I'm not doing it that way; this way would be more interesting visually" or just "BITCH, HOW ARE YOU MAKING IT GO THAT WAY?" Sometimes you can get a really good 1:1 match, which is something I've loved since I made a purple vest for a Quatre (Gundam Wing) cosplay way back in the early 2000s. Like, I hung it up in my closet next to the khaki pants and pink shirt I was going to wear with it and it was this great bit of hyperreality--oh, dude, that 2d character's clothes are hanging here in 3 dimensions. I love that weird zoomy feeling I get when I break that dimensional barrier. I mean, just this past May, I stuck a bunch of little silver butterflies meant to decorate a wall all over a bamboo hat and it made me grin every time I walked past it hanging on the back of my door. It's like breaking the 4th wall in reverse. I like that.

And that's gotten me to look into more and other things beyond just "sew a seam." For one thing, although I like to try and make a costume as "realistic" as possible, you've got to think about cosplay like theater as much as anything and be fully ready to cheat on everything if it makes your life easier (see: faking inner linings!). And for another example, I've got a couple of bottles of Rit dye over here because fuck the color selection for the texture I want in some fabric. I'm learning kind of a lot.

Now if this order I put in would get here, I could do some hands-on learning about dying natural fibers…

sunflower: if you could live in any fictional universe, which would you choose? If you've never seen the anime Durarara!!, I highly recommend it--not because it's necessarily a fictional universe I'd want to live in but because there's a line of dialogue in it that has stuck with me for years. Yeah, it's kind of cringy to have a quote from an anime be important but I'm an oldtaku and cringe is dead.

I can't even remember the exact quote but it's something like "you want a different life, you want to find another world, but after three days that world will be ordinary to you and you'll start looking for something even stranger."

This is not to say that changes or strange things are bad or should be avoided. It's more to say that if you think that you'll never get accustomed to something strange and unusual, you'll get accustomed to it sooner than you think. And if you're not careful, you'll just keep chasing that high, looking for something weirder and then something weirder and then something weirder. (And also pay attention to what's around you because things are strange all the time and you just think it's ordinary because you're so used to it. It goes both ways.)

Anyway, that concept of getting used to something new sooner than you expect has followed me around for a long time. Sometimes I'll find myself thinking "Yeah! This is what'll change everything for me!" and then I just think to myself "Ask yourself if that's true in three days." It doesn't necessarily stop me from dip-dying my hair purple, getting the new low-top Converse, driving a new route somewhere, or transferring to a new work location. But it has helped to remind myself how fast the extraordinary can become ordinary.

My point is that it's easy to be like "Oh yeah, I want to live in this fictional universe!" when that universe would pretty soon be as ordinary as the current one. I get it, though. And some universes would probably stay novel longer than others--like if you were at some kind of “school for magic users,” the novelty would last as long as you were learning and using new magic. But after you master the system it's trading "fuck, I forgot to water my tomatoes!" for "fuck, I forgot to water my squiddlebonks!" Squiddlebonks might be purple or something but it's basically the same thing, just in different places.

Fuck this sounds cynical, which is ironic considering the list of potential fictional universes that ran through my head when I read this question. I swear I'm not that cynical! I've just put too much thought into the nitty-gritty of fictional universes, maybe. Like a lack of vaccines and antibiotics and painkillers in Jane Austen Land. Or how the odds are stacked infinitely against being a protagonist (let alone an antagonist) in a fictional universe. I'm just standing behind Mr. J. Alfred Prufrock as he swells a progress here--but not in the very back because there's a kind of distinction in being in the very back too. The odds are not on me being a powerful elf; I'm much more likely to be some rando hobbit or Rohirrim peasant. Not a Jedi, just someone in the background hoping that this fucking galactic war doesn't totally destroy the local economy. Give it up for the long-suffering Ordinary Folk.

Now to really throw a curveball in here, it could be kind of fun to be one of the locals on Summerisle in the 1973 Wicker Man movie. Not that I'm totally keen to be stuck with 1973 technology and medicine and so on, but being part of a little pagan commune would be kind of fun. I already know a lot of the customs so I can just jump right in. I'd still have my religious hang-ups though, so that would make it suck.

Bits of Star Trek, such as I know of it, do make The Future seem bright and possible--which was their intent. I wouldn't be one of the Brave Explorers. I'd just chill on a neat planet, ideally one where I could go on regular flights using wings I'd just strap on (physics suggests that this would be possible in a large enough enclosure of breathable air on the moon), without having to worry about healthcare or income or major conflict or anything. Just do my thing, whatever that might be. Maybe some kind of space librarian, I don't know.

Okay, maybe one of those "gentle fiction" romance novels where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. Maybe you know the ones: where the protagonists fall in love and maybe have some problems along the way but it ends up okay and one of them probably owns a bookstore in some coastal town where there are never any hurricanes. The big problem is whether there's enough sugar left in the store so everyone can bake things for the bake sale to raise money to replace the boiler in the village school. There's no climate change, no political instability, no issues with money, everybody is fine in every way unless it serves the plot in some way. No COVID, no Cult 45, no wage stagnation, no serious worries, no dim and impossible future…

So yeah, total fiction.

Also Durarara!! is really good and I recommend it.

Summertime asks!

#ask game #ask me things #anon is on

[bsaka7]

🌟I think that's the not quite the emoji but anyway... go wild l would love to hear your thoughts

this is from my favorite scene of cutting room floor... Thank u!!

Pierre looks for a moment like he’s going to say something real [idk I think - I'm not the kindest to Pierre. I do think he's quiet open and honest - narrative building. but i don't think this Este sees him that way]. Esteban’s still standing there with the stupid box in his arms. His shoulders ache but he doesn’t move [This is 2019 and I'm trying to get at how tired he is. The quotes about the physical toll the year took on him... brutal to me]. He can’t move, like moss has grown over the tops of his shoes and he can’t bear to disturb its precarious beauty [IDK where this stuff comes from. But Esteban both wants to move and not to at the same time. Being drawn to someone and it hurting to get too close].  Esteban wonders if he’s coming from Red Bull, wonders how the debrief went. He wonders what Helmut said, what Christian said, whether Max said anything at all [the time line for this fic is technically accurate wrt to when information came out publically]. He’d always been too serious and unable to say anything when it counted for another person. Maybe he’d learned it like that.

“The weather really turned,” Pierre says. His voice is cracked like the American desert [this is the second time I've compared this relationship to a desert. Huh!]. Pierre has never been able to handle losing, but neither has Esteban. Pierre likes one spotlight but not the other [I think this is racing vs media]. Esteban has never been allowed to choose [they're more similar than he wants to admit].

Esteban nods. His tongue sticks to the top of his mouth. “Lucky it didn’t roll in earlier,” he says, and it’s true. The race was enough without rain, with the crashes and it wouldn’t have helped Pierre, anyway [dissing Pierre's driver. Sorry mate]. Maybe Max. He’d always been good in the rain, but Lewis was better. It’s about Pierre too, about the perfect storm gathering over him at Red Bull [water/weather as metaphor. Not a tetrapod fic without it]. The end always comes before anyone is ready for it to be the end [pierre at red bull, pierre and esteban].

Pierre’s expression is a harsh thing but not towards Esteban. “Do you remember –” he shakes his head, thinking better of it. They don’t talk. They don’t reminisce [they can't talk about racing. Their past is almost defined by it]. Esteban wants to set the box down. He wants to turn around and walk and walk and walk until he’s sitting on the couch of his apartment and scream [trying to make sure we're still captured in the physical moment yet also know how much esteban doesn't want to be in this situation. Me too king.].

“What?” Esteban tries to make the word anything other than cold. He doesn’t want to remember. Pierre had always been the one to talk about the past. Esteban can see straight forward, a tunnel to success [like Este's path has been at all straight forward. Work that positive thinking! But was thinking about the "didn't have the right to fail" quote here] . That’s enough.

“Just,” Pierre says, “When we were at the track with Charles and Anthoine and your dad was yelling at us all to come back in but you just kept driving in circles until it started pouring. And then you drove right past your dad – he chased you! – until he stood in the middle of the track and told you that you’d catch your death out there.” His voice is so quiet that it could be overrun by a mere thought [They both wanted to race so bad, to the point of stupidity. I tried to keep it vague enough to be plausible (story of my next fic lmao) but also specific enough that it hurts to think about]. There’s a tenderness in him, a raw vein that cuts through the center of his bravado, of his own failure [this i find fascinating about Pierre].

Esteban smiles. He does remember. He and Pierre had been taking turns and he hadn’t wanted Pierre to get more laps in than he did. He didn’t care that it was raining. It was warm, he thought he remembered, the sort of summer rain that left mist hanging in the air and the smell of greenery across the town [LOVE this smell]. It had been a competition, even then.

“I do.” They’re the same words as a failed marriage, but he and Pierre had never quite been like that [this is a line that was running through my head while writing this fic and I knew I had to work it in. Kind of would love to expand on this idea but idk]. Esteban used to wonder the good years couldn’t have last longer, why they had to get tangled up with the bad and the stressful. That was when his dad still owned the garage, before he’d gambled on it, before Esteban had proved it worth it and then failed again, before he spent half a season twiddling his thumbs in the Mercedes garage [the pitfalls of memory].

Pierre looks like he doesn’t know what to say. Esteban is grateful for it. He doesn’t know what to say either [I do like the talky/not talky dichotomy. I maybe lean into it a bit too hard but. Idk. It's part of what interests me about this whole thing]. He doesn’t know what his face is doing but he hopes it’s doing nothing. The pit inside of him is swirling. “Well I’ve got to –” Pierre says. His hand flickers at his side like maybe he’s going for a fistbump like they always used to [muscle memory!! It's awkward!!! Wtf do you do!!].

“Yeah.” Esteban doesn’t move.

Pierre doesn’t move either. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” [talking about nothing. They don't know how to escape their own gravity.]

Esteban shifts his grip on the box. “I’ll just –”

“Right.” Pierre steps the side like he’s getting out of the way though he doesn’t really need to [uncomfortable in each other's physical space as well]. Esteban nods and makes the first move. He had always been the one to make the first move, which is why Pierre still blames him [I don't actually have a strong sense opinion on "what happened" so I like to keep it vague]. Pierre’s always been a little bit of a coward, when it comes down to it [true but Esteban is too, different way]. It’s why Esteban could draw blood. He could always swim with one arm behind his back. Pierre could dive deeper [different and the same].

He steps past Pierre and then hears Pierre move too, the patter of his feet against the ground. He lets himself turn around and look for a moment [he wants to look]. He has a headache. He doesn’t need to watch Pierre, to think about him like that. He doesn’t need to pretend he and Pierre have the same choices [obv they both had godawful 2019s in VERY different ways. Pierre was so tied to rbr and este got fucked by a handshake deal. Just such different places to be in internal politics I think.]. For a moment, before Pierre turns the corner, it almost looks like he has a halo from the florescent lights and then he’s gone [you know i love this kind of imagery...and I like to try and balance the descriptory stuff with the feeling stuff. So that's here too].

#I'm watching the world's most boring RECORDING of a training. #Literal torment #Except it's something I wanna learn to do #Ask game #Directors cut #And oh god I really should start editing lmao #There were a few lines in here I was like. #What. #I like the dialogue tho #I think i like this kind of. Post breakup (friend romantic whatever) stuff. #It's a particular kind of achey

[talesofateenagedramaqueen]

feb. 23, 2024

okay I had to ask for the date, that's the only reason it's accurate this time. "oh, why don't you just look at your phone?" because I never think to. maybe its weaponized incompetence idk, but I'm not a 30 man baby married to a woman who might as well be his mommy so is that a legitimate worry to have? I'm a shitty writer but no one is reading this except me. Dammit, why do I have a perfectionist streak if I can't even make it work for me.

my neuroses have neuroses.

it's never going to be my year. sometimes I don't think I can even make something my day. maybe I just gotta....live in the moment. damn cliches, most of them wind up being true. it's so cheesy! but the time of person I am, I'm going to worry about something and then become so worried that I my fight or flight instinct comes in (which is so totally unfair because my trauma is like, as mundane as it can get, and I don't mean that in a self depreciative sort of way, it's very true) and I either choose flight or freeze. the only people I fight with are usually people who don't even deserve it.

I'm a little lost puppy and I feel older in a jaded way but I also feel younger than my peers. but most of my peers aren't even living lives that I feel jealous of so WHY DO I CARE. I care abbot things that don't matter and then that leaves no space for things that actually do.

I need to move out and start over. get away from living with my parents in this same old town, because I feel so much better when I'm away from it all.

though, it doesn't count...if I'm with my family... it's not entirely their fault but dammit, its not entirely mine either. I'm not a bad person I'm just also not a very good one. to quote my own mother, "I suck at life." to quote myself, I'm just "a bit unfortunate."

I need to stop explaining myself to people. and myself. I actually have no clue why I do it in the first place. maybe the insatiable need to be liked? I am a Leo after all. but I'm also unique and hyper independent. do I be myself all the time? kind of. we should all strive to be ourselves, but a better version. what does the better version of myself look like?

hah, look at me, using a Tumblr blog as a journal, trying to be "cool" instead of "edgy and unique". I'm holding too tightly to the past but I don't NEED to let it go. just, allow more space for the present and future.

okay, here comes the really fun part: the venting. love this for me, I'm letting the anger flow in and then flow out again. I'm a fire sign, and more importantly, I'm a miller. the anger comes in quick bursts of flames and then dies down. I don't want to be the type of person to hold onto grudges and bottle everything up. there has to be an appropriate outlet for it. well, journaling of course. maybe angry music? do I write it myself? sing it out loud? I guess all of the above works.

(btw, what's the word limit on this? I've been going on for like, a while. if it cuts me off I'll be so upset. and then ill remember that I refuse to read this back anyways so its like, actually not a big deal. how do I validate other people's emotions when they like, trigger me? man, maybe I just have to step away from the moderator role. seriously, when has it done me any good? I value loyalty more, but I also value kindness. ugh, everything requires balance and my whole being like, physically and spiritually rejects it.)

like sorry g but I'm not a shit talker and its unfair that u expect me to be. it's unfair of me to invalidate ur feelings, but does that count for every time? u take it as me being holier than thou and invalidating but not every person u shit talk has actually wronged you. tho, I suppose its on me to know the difference and respond accordingly. I refuse to feel guilty anymore, living in the moment you know? next time I'll take a minute and think. I may not be good at it at first but I'll make a effort and that has to be enough bc its all I have to give.

and why was last night so awkward! I guess she gave me the same energy I give her but she's the one with that problem! I don't care that she was more subdued but apparently she hates it when its her which means...she hates it when I do it. but I don't mind either way! like sorry, but my depression isn't about you and your depression isn't about me. I at least realize that. and god fucking dammit but I wish everyone would realize that I'm sad and I'm fucking trying, I try so hard every day. living as I am is the most uncomfortable feeling. like a constant headache, or persistent nausea. you know when you're having a really bad day? well every god damn day is a bad day for me. I don't get good ones, only good moments and then the rest suck. "your mental illness is your own problem to deal with" yeah and I don't make it anyone else's problem except my own! and my parents... but come the fuck on, no I don't want to go to the bars. I don't want to do anything, you're so right, its bc I'm SAD!!!! depression makes you a buzzkill, who would have thought. be grateful I'm still kicking, bc if I had the capacity to Kermit I would have ages ago! I wish I had to guts to sometimes. I don't, probably never will, and its kind of fucked up that if I were sadder part of me would feel better. what if I just gave up entirely? I'm capable of giving up even more, I assure you.

ugh, this is mentally exhausting. I think that's enough for one day.

peace out <3

[boyheros]

Oo for the oc asks, 12, 25, 28, and 50!!

12. Name an OC that isn't yours but who you like a lot

UMMMM OH this is hard... milkt00th has some ocs i like <3 i got to learn about some of them during a conversation. very good. particularly Pigeon and Shay!! umm next i've always been a big fan of sporesgalaxy. they make so much good content and their ocs have a special place in my heaaaaart, some specific ones include Addison King and Cataclysm . there's way more ppl and ocs i'd mention but i dont wanna drag on and also some people i'm thinking of don't have tumblr LOL......also i like this oc called Nocturn maybe you have heard of him idk

25. the OC that resembles you the most (hobby, height, likes, dislikes, etc?)

WELL in appearance probably one of my. many self-insert type characters because they are literally just me with some extra stuff. like my spidersona or i made an mystery skulls oc version of myself once.

as for non-self-inserts, i think definitely Maverick !! i changed his hair to curly because i have curly hair & gave him freckles for the same reason... he likes to write and draw like me and i project a lot of my mannerisms onto him, even if they've never been drawn or mentioned... like his slouch or how he can't raise only one eyebrow and ends up raising both by accident, or how he likes to whistle or how he gets shy orrrrr probably a dozen other things. LOL

28. your most dangerous OC?

HMMMM. either Elizabeth ("kills" 5 people who were her COWORKERS and attempts to kill their kids also. kinda. "kill" is in quotes because some of them can come back but they're basically trapped foreverrrr so.) or... kinda any of the Mizrieta characters. being shapeshifters means they can kinda DO anything. they all have great capacity for violence but most of them don't use it. out of the Mizrieta I have made at this point i think Ero (haven't posted them here) has the highest implied kill count. i haven't come up with a number yet though. they target humans, especially clones. and then also the Facestealer maybe? not because he attacks or kills people but because he's a professional identity thief.

50. Give me the good ol' OC talk here. talk about anything you want!

WHEW. um. lets see. switching gears because all the ocs i talked about here are from the MVRCK story, heres a different guy: Sherwin. I changed up this story recently so theres like. magic and curses. curses are just any magic that's "applied" to a person, so good curses exist. i just didn't wanna call em blessings or something.

He had two curses, one of them nicknamed "the red thread curse." it's a bad luck curse. it can be passed on through family lines which is how he got it. the only way to stave it off is to tie a single red thread around yourself somewhere, and as long as it stays on you you'll be fine. but the more secure you make it the less it works, so you basically have to rely on luck to keep the string from coming undone...to prevent the curse that gives you bad luck... his second curse is a helpful one, it's called "all seeing eye" and it basically allows him to see magic and curses that don't usually have a visual cue. he works as a detective helping other people with curses in the hopes he can find a way to break his!

#this is long. oops #ALSO it literally took me days for this SORRY i forgot a little bit. #thanks for sending !!! #askies #didn't tag the ppl i mentioned bc im shy but i linked them so take a look if you like

[awlumii]

hi zuzu! first time sending in an ask :D 29 & 30 for the ask game?

hey hey! welcome to the ask box! there's snacks over there and some water bottles over there; make yourself at home <3

ask game!

29. what part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc.)

imma keep it a buck fifty with you, dawg: i don't plan SHIT. so whenever i'm tasked to plan something, it always dies in the outlining phase because the outline is so detailed that i don't feel the urge to actually write the fic, y'know? (which is why these commissions are really pushing me to my limit rn)

i say all of that to say, i guess my favorite part is "brainstorming"? i put it in quotes because i never just sit there and think about an idea — i get one solid line of either dialogue or narration in my head and then it's off to the races! i'll crank out 3k on that line alone ... its da mental illness 🤸🏾

30. do you write down all of your ideas? what makes you decide to write one versus the other?

NO. NO NO NO, NO I DO NOT. for some reason, in my head, writing down my ideas counts as writing the entire thing, therefore every good idea i have ever had often goes to die in my notes app, tumblr drafts, or google docs. when i get an idea, i have to crank out as much writing as i can before i get too tired to continue or before i reach the end of my creative rope, because otherwise, it's lost forever. like, idk if you've noticed, but i have a gajillion ideas about mean!kazuha, but like. nothing actually written for him. because we've talked about it so much that i feel there's no need to actually write a fic about it. (i really fucking want to though ;-;)

i suppose what makes me focus on one over the other has to be the amount of creative freedom each idea allows me. like if i'm requested to work on something in canon, it'll probably get done much much muuuuch slower than something that i can come up with on the spot. i suppose that goes for quite a few people, too. might be because i love worldbuilding so much, honestly, but if i can invent twists and turns instead of having them laid out for me, then that thing is getting life first.

#[ 📭 — incoming! ] #[ 🎮 — ask game! ] #i talk... so fucking much #keep in mind its 4 am #LOL ITS 4:20 AS I'M WRITING THIS