#but i think there's worth in a story that says sometimes you lose when you're young but it's okay

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships - Epilogue

Summary: A glimpse into the rest of your life with Wanda Maximoff.

Word count: 2.3k+ | Warnings: None; Just Fluff | Ship: Wanda x Reader

Author's note: We officially come to a close! I'd like to take this opportunity to thank each and everyone of you who read, liked, commented, and reblogged this story. This is my first time completing a multi-chapter fic and I couldn't have done it without you. You guys will always have a special place in my heart. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I'll keep writing--my request box is open :)

Series Masterlist

-

Epilogue

Ten Months Later

Montauk, especially in winter, looks as if it's straight out of a postcard. 

For as long as you can remember, Montauk is the only place that's felt like home. And you've shared it with the woman who's known you even before you took your first breath in this world. But now, there are days when she doesn't recognize you, days when she cries out in fear thinking you're an intruder, when she tearfully calls for her own mother or searches anxiously for her late husband.

The merciless grip of Alzheimer's is steadily robbing her from you, and time seems to draw out the process in a cruel, agonizing manner.

Wanda is there for you though, through every difficult moment. She is your rock when you feel like crumbling, your light in the darkest moments. You are both staying in Montauk for some time now, taking care of your mother. Your mother sometimes recognizes her, and she’s remarkably warmer to your ex-wife more than you can remember. You think, perhaps, it has something to do with her memories that are slowly wilting away, and all that is left is the love she’s always held back for the other woman in your life.

One evening, as snowflakes start to gently fall from the sky, Wanda gets the sudden urge to take a walk. After some persuasion, you find yourself pulled out from the inviting warmth of the bed you've been sharing, grumbling while putting your layers of clothing back on to indulge Wanda in her whimsical idea.

Hand-in-hand, you set off just as the sun begins its descent, painting the horizon with streaks of indigo and pink. Snowflakes settle on Wanda's hair, turning her fiery locks into a winter wonderland. She smiles, her green eyes sparkling with the reflection of the dimming twilight. 

You soak in the sight of her, the love of your life, aglow in the beauty of the snowy evening, committing it to memory. 

An old park lies ahead, its swings and benches blanketed by the fresh snowfall. Wanda leads you to the swing set, her laughter carrying through the chilly air as she plops down on one of them. You take the swing beside her, the frosty metal biting through your clothing, but you don’t mind. The sight of Wanda, her face flushed with cold yet bright with joy, is worth braving the winter chill.

As the swing set gently comes to a halt, Wanda nudges you, pointing towards a row of trees in the distance. “Look over there,” she says, “Do you see that?”

You squint at the snow-laden branches, trying to decipher what she's referring to. While you're absorbed in your futile search, Wanda quietly slips off the swing, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. As you turn back to her with a puzzled look, ready to ask what you were supposed to see, you find her on her knees in the fresh snow, looking up at you with an earnest gaze.

She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. With a quick flick of her wrist, she pops it open to reveal a simple yet stunning ring nestled within. 

“Will you marry me?”

Your heart stutters at the sight of Wanda's hopeful gaze. For a moment, everything seems to stand still. Snowflakes suspend their descent, the air holds its breath. With a lump in your throat, you utter a word you never thought you'd say in this moment. 

“No.”

Shock registers on Wanda's face, her eyes wide and vulnerable. The world seems to crash around her, the word echoing ominously in her ears. But then, before she has a chance to fully comprehend what's happening, you're sinking to your knees in the snow beside her.

“Because,” you begin, laughter choking your words even as tears track down your cheeks. You fumble in your pocket, pulling out your own small box. You pry it open, revealing a gleaming ring nestled within. “Because I want you to marry me.”

The world, previously paused, starts up again in a rush of sound and color.

Laughter bubbles up from within you, filling the silence, mingling with the tears streaming down your face. Wanda stares at you, stunned into silence, her tears mirroring your own.

“Yes,” she breathes out finally, her voice choked with emotion. “Yes, yes, yes.”

In the stillness that follows, you gently take her hand, slipping the ring onto her trembling finger. 

You look up at her, your heart in your eyes. “Yes, Wanda, I'll marry you,” you whisper.

Wanda's fingers are ice-cold, trembling with adrenaline, when she reaches for your hand, your ring. Her focus is so intense as she slips it onto your finger that it feels as if everything else has fallen away.

Without wasting a moment, Wanda lurches forward, lips finding yours in a kiss, full of passion and relief. The chill of the snow around you seems to dissipate as your mouths move in a rhythm perfected by time and familiarity. Every small shift, every pressure, the way she tugs at your lower lip, the way you reciprocate by pulling her closer by the waist, it all stokes a warmth that radiates from your core, spreading outwards, rendering the winter air irrelevant.

The soft moan that escapes Wanda against your lips fills you with a satisfaction, an overwhelming sense of rightness that even the best of days prior to this moment had not quite achieved.

Like all beautiful things, the kiss comes to an end. She pulls away, her breath ghosting over your lips as she whispers, “Yes,” echoing your sentiment. “Yes, you will.”

Year 2

A year later, the smell of antiseptic and the sterile white walls of a hospital room are your surroundings. You lay exhausted on the hospital bed, swaddled in a light hospital gown, holding the newest addition to your family. 

A baby girl. 

Yours and Wanda’s. 

She is swathed in soft pink blankets, her tiny face peering curiously at the world she's just entered.

Overwhelmed, overjoyed, and slightly terrified, Wanda is darting around the room, fretting over everything and anything. Her brows are furrowed as she questions the nurses on the baby’s feeding, changing, swaddling. She's always been meticulous, but her anxiety seems to be on a whole new level today.

Meanwhile, she's constantly checking up on you too. A wet cloth to dab your sweaty forehead, a soft kiss to reassure you, a gentle squeeze of your hand. Each time she asks if you're okay, if you need anything, if you're feeling too tired or too overwhelmed.

Her voice is a touch higher than usual, her movements slightly rushed. It's all too adorable, you think. The endearing sight of Wanda fussing over you and the baby brings a soft smile to your tired face.

Wanda’s gaze alternates between you and the tiny bundle in your arms, as if she’s afraid that this is all some dream that she would wake from.

“You're doing great, love,” you reassure her in a voice hoarse with exhaustion, but filled with so much love and admiration for this woman. Your woman. You wouldn’t trade her frantic behavior for anything else.

“Do you want to hold her?” you ask Wanda, lifting the baby slightly from your chest.

Wanda freezes at your question, her eyes flickering from the tiny face peeking out from the swaddles and back to you. She seems to be calculating the risk of her holding something so precious and delicate. She bites her lip nervously, her hand absently wringing together.

“I'm... I'm afraid I might hurt her. She's so small,” Wanda murmurs, almost too softly to hear.

A soft laugh bubbles up from you, finding her concern endearing. With your free hand, you tenderly take hers, squeezing reassuringly.

“Wands, love, she's our daughter. She already knows you and she wants her mom. Come on,” you encourage her, your voice soft but confident.

With a deep breath, Wanda nods. She gingerly slips onto the bed beside you, her arm tentatively reaching out. Her hand hovers over the baby's tiny form, her fingers trembling slightly.

Seeing her hesitate, you gently place the baby into Wanda's waiting arms. The moment your daughter is cradled in her arms, Wanda's eyes fill with unshed tears. Her gaze is locked on the little face looking up at her.

She's silent for a moment, just looking down at the tiny, squirming bundle in her arms. You watch as she traces her finger lightly over your daughter's chubby cheek, her touch feather-light as though she's handling a priceless piece of art.

“She's... She's beautiful,” Wanda finally whispers, her voice choked with emotion. You watch as a single tear escapes, trailing down her cheek.

“She has your eyes,” you say softly, leaning against Wanda's shoulder.

Her response is a watery laugh, and she turns to press a kiss on your forehead. “And your nose,” she retorts, a teasing lilt to her voice. “I didn’t know it was possible to be even more in love with you,” she adds, looking into your heavy-lidded eyes.

As you look at Wanda holding your daughter, overwhelmed with love and emotion, you think that there can't be anything equally perfect as this moment. 

Year 4

Something equally as perfect comes two years later.

You and Wanda return to your new apartment in Manhattan, this time with a little more noise, a lot more love, and two new family members in tow. 

The eighteen arduous hours of Wanda's labor are still fresh in your mind. The anxiety and fear you felt, the helplessness, as you watched her endure the pain, fighting for every breath, are experiences you would never forget. For a moment, you feared for her life, but Wanda, as always, proved to be a force of nature. She battled through, delivering the twins normally. Your two-year-old daughter has just been promoted to big sister status, with the arrival of her twin brothers, William and Thomas.

Wanda, holding Billy, looks at you over the top of his little head. Her eyes are bright, tired but excited. You carry Tommy, his tiny hand gripping your finger, and his weight in your arms feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Despite being outnumbered by your kids, you and Wanda are no novices now. With one child already, you've learned the ropes of parenthood, even if juggling the needs of three young children is still quite the adventure. 

Looking back, you can't help but wonder. If things had been smoother, easier, would you still end up here? 

Sure, life has thrown you a few curveballs. But those curveballs brought you to this moment, to this feeling of complete and utter happiness. 

You wouldn't change a thing.

Because this is it. This is your perfect. This is the beautiful chaos of a big family you and Wanda have created together. And you wouldn't trade it for the world. 

This moment is everything you ever wanted.

Year 35

You both retire to a charming little town on the east coast, away from the relentless hum of city life. The house is a modest one, its size perfect for two people entering the golden years of their life.

It's a quiet evening when you find yourself sitting in the bathtub, the warm water soothing against your aging muscles. The bathroom door creaks open and in walks Wanda, unadorned and as beautiful as the day you met her. You watch as she undresses, each wrinkle and mark a testament to the years you've spent together. The sight of her, the raw display of strength, beauty, and age, leaves you breathless.

She eases herself into the tub, the water rising as she settles across from you. Your legs brush against each other, a touch that still sends warmth spreading through your veins. Her eyes, the same captivating pair you lost yourself in more than four decades ago, meet yours and your heart does a familiar dance.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a teasing smile. “You have that look again.”

“What look?” you feign innocence, though a mischievous glint gives you away.

“That look as if you're seeing a young woman, and not the one who's been trying to get a senior discount for the past few years,” she quips.

You chuckle, leaning closer, the water ripples between you two as you do. “Honestly, after all this time,” you whisper, fingers tracing the back of her hand submerged in the water, “I can't help myself.”

She playfully rolls her eyes, her cheeks tinted with a hint of a blush that reminds you of her younger self. “Ever the charmer,” she murmurs, her voice betraying the flutter of excitement she still feels from your compliments, even after all these years.

“You may have a few more lines here and there,” you whisper, your eyes taking in every beautiful detail of her face, “But to me, you're as breathtaking as the day we met. Time can't change the way I see you, Wanda.”

With deliberate slowness, you lean in, pressing a delicate kiss to her lips. As you pull back, you see the warmth in her eyes, the soft smile playing on her lips, and you feel an old, familiar urge.

Your next kiss is deeper, more insistent, and your hand finds its way to her waist, pressing her closer. Her laughter bubbles up, breaking the kiss momentarily as she playfully swats your wandering hand away.

“You really still find this,” she gestures to herself, “Desirable?”

You lean back slightly, taking in her form with a deliberate, exaggerated slowness, your gaze wandering from her face to her feet and back up again. “Every inch.”

She gives you a mock exasperated look, but the smile that's trying to break through belies her true feelings. “You and your words,” she mutters, pulling you closer by the nape of your neck, her fingers tangling in your damp hair. “Do they ever run out?”

“Not when it comes to you,” you reply earnestly, your lips hovering just above hers. “Never when it comes to you.”

Making love isn't as easy as it once was, with bodies grown old and not as supple. 

But your love for Wanda—if anything, is stuck in time.

Taglist: @canvascoloredin | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife| @justagurlwholikes | @lizziesplant | @cowxpoke | @sokovianbaby| @swiftie1-0-1 | @scarlettbitchx | @tercerspirit-22 | @hyper-fixated-delusions

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction

[thevirgodoll]

when you decide to love yourself more, you pick up the pieces you thought they left and just move tf on with your life. you take those pieces and do some heart surgery. this may be the first person, the tenth person, or the fiftieth that has hurt you and shattered you. but it's far more worth it to reconstruct your heart to be whole again than to let someone who didn't even have half of a heart when they met you steal yours and walk around with it as their own.

it's dramatic, but you have to decide that your life is literally on the line. people lose their minds trying to figure out why someone lied to them and why they're gone. heartbreak (from an ex, a friend, a family member, etc) can literally kill you. the light in your eyes is now a poor excuse for a fire that can barely spark. your appetite doesn't even exist and left a pit in your stomach. your soul is tied to all of the limiting beliefs they brought with them and now, in your unwillingness to see them for who they are, YOU have adopted their same cadence, mindset, and loathing.

i think subconsciously we sit in pity just to feel closer to the person that we couldn't quite "fix" or the person we always say "if they could've just...if i could've gotten them to see XYZ about themselves" or "what if". IF THIS OR THAT.

you can recognize you're in the trenches with them because you really loved them, but you cannot STAY there. this isn't you. in your reality, you are LOVED. you are WHOLE. you are WORTHY.

i don't even think it's the fact other people don't see it. i think they do, and because they see it that means they'll have to live with just as much integrity as you do. they'll have to step outside of their comfort zone and finally measure up to this new person they have around them. and they can't...so they sabotage. but that's the thing. THEY made that decision. so stop suffering on their behalf and let them lay in the bed they made.

and i know you're like, easier said than done??? trust me. one day, you wake up and it doesn't hurt at all. one day, you stop waiting for them to come back. it's like a switch. what am i waiting on someone else for? why would i want someone to decide that they love me? pfft.. literally with those questions, i regain my common sense and detach. it's over, it's done. it's like they never existed.

give them a mental funeral with their flowers for what they DID do that you were able to appreciate - if anything - and look back on the entire thing as an experience you needed to push you in a different direction. stop wishing things were different and start creating a better story. literally, just tell yourself this isn't real and that they passed away.

genuinely believe that sometimes need somebody to fumble as a wake-up call. take that time out, recoup, and write a new story where none of this shit ever happened. and never let anyone have the option to shift YOUR world like that ever again. i mean it.

#I don’t know where this came from #thoughts #note to self #law of assumption #mindset #healing #recovery #mental health #relationships #heartbreak #feelings #late night thoughts #writeblr #writers on tumblr

[lacyscabinet]

Nat comes back from hunting, and reader isn't there, and everyone didn't see her, and then Nat finds her in the small shack where shauna usually was with Jackie's body

Reader was huddled up with the sharpest knife, and it was covered in blood

(Basically reader was gonna commit)

I NEED ANGSTY 😓😓

SORRY IF THIS TRIGGERS :(

A/N: thank you for this request <3, as someone who has struggled and still struggles with sh, I feel like I need to spread a little message through this note, you are enough, I know that everybody says that, and I know that you might think it's pathetic, but it's true, it doesn't matter if you failed a test, broke up with your s/o, messed something up , did anything you regret doing or even not doing, or if you just don't feel like sticking around anymore, only one thing doesn't have a remedy. I struggle to believe it myself sometimes but in the end there is always something worth living for. Think about it. Emotional pep talk over, sorry for rambling, hope you'll like this fic<3

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS : knives, attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, depression, sh, blood

You're losing me

Another day hunting, another day without finding any game, everyone was starving back at the cabin, and the frustration Nat felt was sickening.

And the team worshipping Lottie and going as far as saying that Lottie was providing more food than her made Natalie see red.

Travis wasn't helping much these days, grieving his little brother, long story short, everyone was on edge, you more than anyone else.

Nobody really knew how much you were struggling, you tried to open up with Natalie once and she didn't really catch up on the way you felt, she just thought you were really sad that day and comforted you.

But it was deeper than that, at first when you all got stranded, you were full of life, hopeful to get rescued and go on with your life, but as the days, the weeks and the moths went by, the bright glimmer in your eyes dimmed gradually, only leaving a hint of emotions when you cried, you felt drained, tired and sick, not the type of tired that a good night of sleep could fix and not the type of sick that painkillers could tame.

And then, with all the things you've seen, all the things you did, it was all in order to survive of course, but you still did it, you did it.

As time went by you started to think about the way you would be way more useful if you died, not only you wouldn't have to eat food, leaving more for your teammates, but you also would become food, and a part of you hoped that someday you'll become useful to the others.

You thought and you even dreamed about it, not feeling pain anymore, not being completely useless anymore, and one day, you took matters into your own hands.

That day, a shivering Natalie, fresh out of another failed hunt, looked for you in the cabin, simply to spend some time with you since she was gone in the snow the whole day, she searched and searched but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Mari? Have you seen Y/N" Natalie asked the girl who was busy cooking something definitely not nutritious enough to make the team feel full, Mari shrugged "I saw her this morning, she was going out, I thought she was looking for you"

Nat frowned, thanking Mari and going into the living room, a bunch of the girls sat there around the fire, and of course, you weren't there

"God..." Shauna spoke up, looking around the room "Has anyone seen my knife? I think I lost it"

The others shrugged as Natalie reached for the door, searching for you outside.

She was used to the ironically burning cold, but still, it wasn't pleasant.

Walking around the outside of the cabin she couldn't help but curse you and hope you were okay at the same time.

After a faint noise she froze in her spot, paying attention to her surroundings, and then her eyes widened when she heard a loud sob.

Looking around, she realized that there was only one place the cries could come from, the tiny wooden shelter next to the cabin.

As she walked closer to it the noises just got louder and louder, and she was sure that it was you, she could recognize your voice everywhere after all, but "why is she crying?" Nat kept thinking.

When she entered the shed, she couldn't believe her eyes, yes, you were there, but Shauna's knife was there as well, covered in blood.

At first her mind wanted to believe that you found game on your way to join Nat in her daily hunt, and you were just cutting up pieces of deer meat, but when she noticed your sleeves rolled up and deep vertical slits on your wrists all the hope in her mind was gone.

She was losing you.

And you yourself, couldn't feel a thing, after the painful cuts, you found a certain peace in the warm feeling of blood pouring out of your veins, a bold contrast compared to the freezing weather.

Nat cursed, she was shocked, but she knew that she couldn't allow herself to be in shock, she had to help, she had to do something .

She was losing you.

"Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Please baby, can you hear me?" She cried out kneeling next to your body

You weren't completely unconscious, wobbling between the two worlds, and in a moment of consciousness, the only thing you could say was "Nat..."

She instantly replied, eagerly trying to get some more words from you "What baby?"

"You can... when it's time, you can...you can eat me, you have my permission...please do it Nat, you deserve to live"

Natalie couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth "No, no, don't say that, you are gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine"

And in that moment your vision went black.

She lost you.

For three hours. The worst three hours of her life.

As soon as you passed out, she picked you up and brought you back inside.

After seeing your conditions everyone was alarmed, Tai quickly stitched you up as best as she could, and then Nat proceeded to clean you up from all the blood you lost.

Coach Ben let the girls lay you down in his small room, and after that they all collectively decided to leave you alone with Nat for a while.

She held your hand the whole time, clinging to the feeling that you weren't gone, you couldn't be gone, your heart was still beating, a faint beating, but it was working.

When you opened your eyes, she was there, squeezing your hand with her own, eyes closed and a tear stained face

Just like in the movies you thought, but you weren't in a safe hospital at the end of a movie, you were at the start of your little personal hell.

And even when she held you tightly after she noticed your wide eyes, you couldn't help but wish you were somewhere else.

After all, maybe she really lost you that day.

A/N: I think I just poured my soul into this fic. Hope you enjoyed, stay safe <3

#natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x #natalie scatorccio x y/n #writers on tumblr #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you

[dinaanana]

What If Verlaine Trained Teenager!Reader?

the Character is from Stormbringer Novel

synopsis: Fluff/Crack

Paul Verlaine x Teenager!Reader (Platonic!)

(He's so pretty)

(Pretend you're Also a stormbringer Character aswell)

So first of all This Man is strict asf. so Brace Yourselves

(Didn't he also Train Kyouka and Gin? Yeah)

There's no problem with training you either

If you already know Any type of Martial Arts or MMA he's Glad to hear that.

When he Looks at you working out and f you do Something he doesn't like? You get the exercises wrong? He's making you Do 50 Push ups 50 Sit Ups and yeah☠️

And if you're still lazy Then you'll be doing 100 instead of 50 (He is really nice isn't he)

(Obv he trains You in his musty ass Basement)

Sometimes Chuuya Watches As His big Brother Trains you He's just Standing there like 🧍 while you're fighting for your own Life

And when you look at him with Tired eyes and drenched In sweat Asking for Help? he just Smirks and Shakes his Head

Verlaine doesn't care about Your age if you're young or not if you think that you're young and he's gonna go easy on you Nah you're wrong .

You're Training to be an Assassin for the Port mafia. After all

Not only he teaches you martial arts but he also teaches you how to use A gun a Knife Anything for self defence

''Oh my god I'm tired'' You whine as you Lay on your back all sweaty and breathing heavily

'Did I hear something?'' He Looks down At your lying form

''I- no-'' You know what's coming Next.

''Im not deaf,You're doing 100 push ups and 100 sit ups Right now.'' He Says in Stern tone with his French accent

We also Know that To become an Assasin you have to get used to Alot of Gore.

I mean You gotta see some Gorey shit everyday You're a Mafioso After all.

Training with him is Bit Intense

But you'll become Stronger and It boosts your confidence Everyday Around other Ppl soo It's worth it 100%

You're literally being trained By king of Assassin's how could you not be strong I mean.. you can knock Down 10 Grown men With Just Using your fists

After Years of training He asks you to have Hand to hand combat With Him

Well you put up A great right but you still lose ''You may not win against me But you put Up a great fight.Thing The Members older than you in Port Mafia can't do..'' He Says

(Bro the things I'll do To be trained by This Man omg I don't mean it cuz I simp for him and not in A creepy way tho☠️)

After Training for like Years You go on your first Mission and guess what

When you come back With the mission accomplished

You go down in the basement to tell him the News but he already knows That,Ge Comes near you looking down at you and He Pats u on Shoulder ''Good Job.'' with His French accent.

He's like a Proud dad when his Kid Gets high score in elementary school omg

He also Tells you to read books (If you don't like reading them) He'll tell you That Assasin Are suppose to be Smart and not dumb Like you (Not to Insult you just to Get you to read Them)

You agree after that and ask him what type Of books you shall read and he Suggest you to read Some detective Books By Some Authors Like Agatha Christie and etc.

And if you already read Alot of books? he praises you and tells you you're doing Great

(Except If you read Wattpad stories ☠️)

Anyways

Training with him is Amazing but Very I mean very exhausting even thought you Barely Can walk after all the Exercises and Training

Id rate him

10/10 tho

#bsd x you #bsd stormbringer #paul verlaine #bsd verlaine #verlaine x reader #sigma bungou stray dogs #bsd fandom

[formulalfc]

i just hit 800 followers!!!!!

i cannot explain to you guys how amazing this is and how much it warms my heart, i love and appreciate every single one of you so so so much <3

as a sort of celebration, i thought i'd continue on with the lyric blurb theme cause i absolutely loved doing them last month!!! so here is a list of all the lyrics i'd love to write blurbs about (obviously you can send in other lyrics these are just ones i really like) , the people i write for are in my bio!!! hope you enjoy <3

"where'd all the time go, it's starting to fly"

"kiss and i hope they caught us"

"when you think happiness, i hope you think that little black dress"

"of all the dreams i'm chasing there's only one i chose, everything is pointless without you"

"i'll be eighty-seven; you'll be eighty-nine, i'll still look at you like the stars that shine"

"the long and winding road, that leads to your door"

"they say i did something bad, then why's it feel so good?"

"everywhere, everything, wanna love you till we're food for the worms to eat"

"sometimes i wonder when you sleep, are you ever dreaming of me?"

"nothing in the world belongs to me but you"

"please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognise anywhere"

"all at once everything looks different now that i see you"

"i hope i never lose you hope it never ends"

"cause it's not right, i'm magnetised to somebody that don't feel it"

"i think i've seen this film before, and i didn't like the ending"

"do you know what you started? i just came here to party, and now we're rocking on the dancefloor acting naughty"

"i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it"

"i miss you, i'm sorry"

"i made you my temple, my mural, my sky, now i'm being for footnotes in the story of your life"

"i'm in love with every song you've ever heard"

"distance, timing, breakdown, fighting, silence the train runs off the tracks"

"no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft"

"these are the hands of fate, your my achilles heel"

"i've waited a hundred years, but i'd wait a million more for you"

"you are an expert at sorry and keeping lines blurry"

"heard all the rumours lately that you always denied"

"i never thought we'd have a last kiss"

"say yes to heaven, say yes to me"

"one night he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was, he is in love"

"you do make me hard, but she makes me weak"

"stop, you're losing me"

"do you know how in love with you i am?"

"if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once"

"cause there's nothing like doing nothing with you"

"i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you"

#formulalfc #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #lfc #blurbs with shan ;) #liverpool #trent alexander arnold #liverpool fc x reader #liverpool football club x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #lewis hamilton #max verstappen #jude bellingam #levi colwill #oscar piastri #charles leclerc #virgil van dijk #mason mount #lyric fic #ibrahima konate #darwin nunez #kylian mbappe #dominic szoboszlai #f1 #formula one #daniel ricciardo #lfc x reader #lfc players #england nt

[notmorbid]

still born.

dialogue prompts from still born by guadalupe nettel. this book deals directly with infant loss / illness.

nothing will happen to you while i'm here.

in friendships like ours, there's no room for hypocrisy.

they say that violence begets violence.

the more we love a person, the more fragile and insecure we feel because of them.

if you disappeared, a part of me would go with you.

i can't take any more of you.

can i bum one off you?

what was it like to live with ____?

i didn't come here to argue with you.

i've got you to love. i don't need anyone else.

can you talk? i need to tell you something.

it's a long story. you'll need to pay attention. do you have time now?

did you just get back from school?

i just went for a walk around the block.

why don't we go to the park this afternoon?

i talk to myself, too.

did anyone tell you what happened?

what did i do wrong?

there's nothing like looking at a lake to calm one's thoughts.

do you mind if i smoke?

i promise you i won't leave until it's better.

the city is full of dangerous people.

i can't imagine what it would feel like to be in your place.

there's no word for a parent who loses a child.

did you used to play in the street when you were little?

it's not healthy to wallow in pain.

what should i have done differently?

i can't keep explaining it over and over again.

talking about it made me feel better.

anger is nothing but a screen for avoiding pain.

you're totally unreadable.

you're smoking again?

being a mother means being worried about someone else all the time.

love and common sense are not always compatible.

some music fuses with our selves, we've listened to it so much.

cohabitation is one of the hardest experiences to survive.

i wouldn't mind a vodka tonic.

some people are more awake at night.

what did you used to like doing before you shut yourself in?

i don't want kids, even adopted ones.

you forgot how to be happy.

there's nothing for you here. go away.

it's easier to blame others for what we can't tolerate in ourselves.

you look like you've gone back in time.

you can spend the day with me.

it's not right, but sometimes it's worth doing.

what i want is for you to stop meddling in my life.

i need to know so i can help you.

it's as if ____ needs to suck my life force to grow.

all i feel is worn out.

normal mothers don't think those kinds of things, do they?

i'm not sure 'normal mothers' exist.

you'll judge me. you always do.

there are people who consider misfortune an infectious disease.

we tend to see our mother's mistakes as the source of all our problems.

you're always questioning the past.

if you don't leave home, you suffocate. if you go too far, you lose oxygen.

from hereon in, anything that happens is a bonus.

i'm here to help you, not to fight you.

i like to say things straight.

there's always a way to renegotiate debt.

i can't believe you hid this from me. it's like staying quiet when there's a fire in the house.

you're not on your own. we're a family now.

i ask myself why you stay sometimes, too.

are we going to stay like this for the rest of our lives?

blood ties don't guarantee anything.

the biological family is something that's been imposed on us. there's no reason we should settle for that if it doesn't work for us.

i can't stand being in my head.

is it your voice in your head, or someone else's?

what do you do when your thoughts bother you?

you've got space inside you where you can go and hide.

we have the children that we have, not the ones we imagined we'd have.

what could someone so young know about despair?

don't leave my side for a minute.

i feel like an absolute worm.

do you think you'll be able to fall in love again?

don't be nervous. whatever has to happen will happen. no one gets out of that.

#rp meme #ask memes #inbox memes #rp memes #ask meme #rp prompts #inbox meme #sentence starters #families

[bleongambetta]

Moves That Make Promises In Pasión de las Pasiones

One of the tricks I like to use for writing effective, interesting custom moves in Pasión de las Pasiones (my Ennie 2023 Best Game nominated game of telenovela drama) is to build it around a promise.

I'm a sucker for a payoff in a piece of media, I love to be promised I'll be shown something and then be shown exactly that. I think it's innate to want exactly that, we love foreshadowing and getting that payoff. That's the entire basis of telenovelas honestly, through all of the twists and turns and questions, we have a promise (sometimes direct, sometimes implied) of how it will end.

Bonus points to those who get my gif choice.

Im going to give the quickest background I can before showing the move.

Briefly Custom Moves

Moves, for those uninitiated to Powered by the Apocalypse, are little bits of rules with a trigger, a mechanic (often rolling plus a stat), and a result.

When you MAKE A TUMBLR POST, tell us what it is then ROLL PLUS SHARP. On a hit EVERYONE REBLOGS IT.

These little mini bits of rules let's games really focus on specific genre conventions of the stories they are telling. When they do a good job, they focus play.

Custom moves are invented by the GM either before or during the session. They are for a scenario that the game didn't see coming or that normally wouldn't necessarily be a focus of the game. They follow the same structure and can be a little tricky to master, because often you're doing them quickly!

Briefly Pasión de las Pasiones Moves

Pasión de las Pasiones is a variant on PbtA which instead of stats uses questions. Simplistically, for each "Yes" answer to two questions on a move, the player adds +1. Those questions usually have to do with fictional positioning (what is happening in a scene or what advantages/scenarios a character has).

The Move

When you race across the jagged cliffs, trying to claim the prize that will forever change your life, roll with the questions:

* Are you willing to die to win?

*Are you willing to kill to win?

On a hit, you make it to the end, neck and neck with your greatest rival. On a 10+, pick 1. 7-9, pick 2.

*You chicken out at the last minute and lose, mark 1 conditions

*You make it over the line, but you're busted up to the point that you're not walking away from this. Face Certain Death.

*You drove someone off the cliffs. If they're a PC, they Face Certain Death. If they aren't, they are dead, dying, or missing.

On a miss, you screw it all up. You lose control of your vehicle. If you were willing to give your life, Face Certain Death. If you weren't, watch as someone else takes your place at the podium.

So why does this custom move work?

It asks the player, what are you willing to give for this and the player makes a promise. For promising to give their life, they get a +1. For promising to kill, they get a +1. That's a great little moment, of all of the players listening to the racer say that.

Then, if they roll poorly, we get that payoff. They promised they'd give their life, let's see it happen.

If they roll well, we also get that payoff! You said you would give your life, will you now? You said you'd kill, will you now?

This design basically makes a mirror around the objective, you tell me what it's worth to you and then I ask you if you'll pay it.

For the record, our roll had the racer falling off the cliff, but being saved at the last minute by a mysterious racer who turned out to be the missing heir to the fortune and identical triplet to two of the players.

#ttrpg design #ttrpg #ttrpgdesigntwitter #indie ttrpg #ttrpgs #Pasión de las pasiones #pasion de las pasiones

[persephonememes]

* (  THE HAUNTING OF BLY MANOR /  SENTENCE PROMPTS.

These may have been edited for clarity or length or to better apply for roleplaying.

❛ i was just really, really sad. ❜

❛ dead doesn’t mean gone. ❜

❛ i thought i was going to die too. ❜

❛ it only felt like dying because, actually, i was still alive. ❜

❛ to truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them. ❜

❛ we can’t count on the past. ❜

❛ we think we have it trapped in our memories, but memories fade. ❜

❛ you’ll find it much quieter out here. ❜

❛ any of us could die at any moment. ❜

❛ she/he was my anchor. ❜

❛ i’m a lot braver than people think. ❜

❛ nothing holds, and all things change, given time. ❜

❛ change does not often announce itself. ❜

❛ all things fade. ❜

❛ time takes all things. ❜

❛ it is the way of the world. ❜

❛ the past recedes, memories fade, and so, true, does the spirit. ❜

❛ everything yields to time, even the soul. ❜

❛ there’s a difference between feeling good and feeling alive. ❜

❛ funerals are for the living. it’s up to the living to decide what they can and cannot bear. ❜

❛ i don’t know why brilliant young women are always punished. ❜

❛ you don’t have to lose yourself to find happiness, you know. ❜

❛ i was having the strangest dream. ❜

❛ what have you got when your back’s against the wall when there’s nothing left for you but faith? ❜

❛ sometimes, right can seem wrong, and wrong can seem right. ❜

❛ do you know what life is really all about? ❜

❛ save them all if you can, but put your own oxygen mask on first. ❜

❛ death is something to mourn, not fear. ❜

❛ i wasn't going to ask you if you're alright because i don't like being lied to. so, what's wrong? ❜

❛ everyone is exhaustive. even the best ones. ❜

❛ we are meant to die. it's natural. ❜

❛ every living thing grows out of every dying thing. ❜

❛ that's where all it's beauty lies, you know, in the mortality of the thing. ❜

❛ one day at a time is what we've got. ❜

❛ one day at a time is what we've got. it's what everybody's got, if you get down to it. ❜

❛ if you can't feel anything, then i'll feel everything for the both of us. ❜

❛ but no one is going anywhere, okay? ❜

❛ you shouldn't be thinking of losing each-other at all. ❜

❛ don't let that loom over your happiness right now. ❜

❛ it is rare what you've got. ❜

❛ what is the catch? ❜

❛ i’m not running, from anything and it hurts me when you say that. ❜

❛ perfectly splendid. ❜

❛ you have to promise me that you’ll stay in your room. ❜

❛ none of us are blameless. ❜

❛ on a scale of zero to american, how would you rate her? ❜

❛ it’s such a draining thing, dealing with children. ❜

❛ i have an inquiring mind. ❜

❛ we both know you don’t make mistakes. ❜

❛ let me guess, you are to be our very own mary poppins? ❜

❛ i hope she haunts that fucker forever. ❜

❛ why should anyone hate a lake? ❜

❛ let me show you just how beautiful you are. ❜

❛ it’s just you and me then. ❜

❛ look at you all flush. you’re pretty when you blush. ❜

❛ being with him might be scary at times but, it’s also exciting and fun. ❜

❛ and for the first time in my life, that little voice in my head saying i’m not good enough has disappeared. ❜

❛ i’ve never felt so alive. ❜

❛ i swear, you’re such a bore, and you don’t know when the leave well enough alone. ❜

❛ sometimes people just need to be alone. ❜

❛ i couldn’t sleep. i feel like i can never sleep again, frankly. ❜

❛ haven’t we done this already? ❜

❛ i have a surprise for you. ❜

❛ i have a surprise for you. ❜

❛ don’t leave your room at night. ❜

❛ the past is always present. ❜

❛ the stories we tell each other have a way of changing. ❜

❛ love is a haunting melody that i have never mastered and i fear i never will. ❜

❛ no good ever comes from dwelling on the worst. ❜

❛ you can’t choose who you love. ❜

❛ ghosts do not have to be scary. they can be comforting. ❜

❛ the heart is a fragile thing, and it can break in many different ways. ❜

❛ people often fear what they cannot understand. ❜

❛ we are all haunted in some way, by the things we have lost or the things we have done. ❜

❛ death is not the end, it’s just a door we all have to go through. ❜

❛ the past cannot be changed, but it can still hurt us. ❜

❛ the things we bury have a way of finding their way back to the surface. ❜

❛ some people are born to be alone, and others are born to be together. ❜

❛ ghosts are memories, and memories are what make us who we are. ❜

❛ the dead don’t really leave us. they live on in the memories we have of them. ❜

❛ the more we try to run from something, the more it chases us. ❜

❛ we all have a shadow self, the part of us that we don’t like to admit exists. ❜

❛ the world is full of secrets, and some are best left buried. ❜

❛ the heart wants what it wants, and sometimes that can be a terrifying thing. ❜

❛ every relationship is a dance, and both people need to be willing to take a step forward. ❜

❛ life can be cruel, but it can also be beautiful. ❜

❛ we are all just playing a part, but some roles are harder to shake off than others. ❜

❛ the past is written, but the future is still unwritten. ❜

❛ the greatest tragedy in life is not death, but the things we leave unsaid. ❜

❛ i do not like this game. ❜

❛ i'm actually pretty in love with you. ❜

❛ no one should ever need that much help. ❜

❛ you let me handle this part. ❜

❛ the wrong kind of love can fuck you up, follow you and make you do some really stupid shit. ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #meme #memes #roleplay meme #ask memes

[alloftheimaginesblog]

the lost letter {i.j}

plot: Indy left for a mission a few weeks ago and as you're tidying your shared apartment, you find a letter from him.

character; indiana jones x plus sized female reader

Part of my Plus Size History Professor x Indiana Jones series and part of my Plus Size Reader x Character series!

It's tucked away, forgotten about in a pile of books and coursework that Indy had been marking before setting off on his new adventure. Coffee spilled over it and abandoned half way through probably due to him spilling coffee over it. You'd only found it through cleaning his desk, clearing and organising his work for him so that when he comes home, it's neat and tidy for him.

You'd been cleaning to try and distract yourself from missing him. It was hard when Indy was away working overseas because not only did you miss him, you worried constantly because you had no way of knowing if he was okay or not. The stories he'd tell you when he came home, scraped and bandaged up, sounded horrific and it sounded as though he came close to dying a lot more than you cared to think about.

People use work to distract them from missing someone but how could you be distracted when your history students asked you about him all the time?

Professor, where's Doctor Jones?

Hey, Professor, where's your boyfriend? He off adventuring again?

Doctor Jones isn't in so I'm wondering if I could get your thoughts on my essay that I'm writing for his class? You know him best so I figure that you're the next best thing.

Yeah, it wasn't easy when you worked and lived with your boyfriend. You just hoped that he'd be okay, that he'd come home. He was due back in two weeks. Sometimes he'd manage to call if things were going to take longer, sometimes he'd show up a week earlier than planned; there was no strict pattern that his adventures followed and that was something you hated about his adventures. You just wished for some sign that he was okay.

And then you happened across the letter.

You would've just tidied it away had it not been for the scrawl of your name at the top of the page.

Dearest (y/n),

You're sleeping as I write this. I didn't want to wake you but I couldn't sleep - preparing for Kenya - so I thought I'd write this for you. I don't know if I'll even show you this so there might be no point of me writing this but who knows?

I know that you're worried. I know that you hide a lot of those worries from me, you don't want me to feel guilty about leaving you, but I think I'd actually prefer if you spoke to me about them more. Maybe I could help put some of those worries to rest, maybe I'd be able to help settle the war that you fight in your head. I suppose I'd like to better help you but I'll be honest, I don't know where to start which is why I'm writing this. Maybe the mad ramblings of a College Professor will soothe all of the worries you have.

Can I just say that you look adorable when you sleep? I just walked in to get my glasses and you're curled up, snoring and drooling onto my pillow. Beautiful.

You mean everything to me. You are worth so much more than you think you are and I just adore every single part of you. I love who you are; I love you compassion for others, I love how much you care not only for your loved ones but for your students, your friends, strangers. There are so many good things about you, (y/n), please take the time to realise these. You are capable of so much and I am so proud of you for all that you've accomplished with your career, it's an honour and a joy to watch you thrive. I love your confidence, the way you aren't afraid to be yourself, the way you just shine in everything you wear and do; you are incredible.

Whilst I'm away, please try not to worry too much. I know that you will but please try to remember that I'll be okay. Before I met you, I was reckless and stupid, to be honest. I looked death in the face more times than I care to admit to you and I laughed. I had nothing to lose. Now, I have everything to lose; my job, my reputation, my career but most importantly you. I promise you that I won't do anything stupid or reckless and I won't actively seek out trouble though it always seems to find me. I promise that I will try my hardest to stay safe. It should be a relatively easy job but you know how these things go.

I can't guarantee my safety and I can't promise that I'll come home in one piece but I can promise that I will do anything to get back home to you, that I'll do everything in my power to return home to you. I give you my word. I love you, (y/n), and -

He had written something else but the coffee spillage smeared them and you couldn't make it out clearly but you'd read enough now. Your eyes were teary but not from sadness; it was from sheer happiness. Indy hadn't told you about this letter and you would've probably never had found it had you not been tidying but my god, you were so happy to have found it. The relief you felt from this letter was immense. He couldn't promise that he'd return safely but you had his word and right now, right now that was enough.

Over the course of the night, you read the letter, examining every line and dot trying to soak it into your brain and etch it into your memory. It brought such a comfort to you, seeing his handwriting, seeing his heart (and coffee) poured onto the paper for you to see... You wished that Indy would return home to you now but for now, this lost letter was enough to get you through the next two weeks.

#one shot #secrets out #secrets out series #plus size reader #plus size series #plus size #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #indiana jones imagine #indiana jones x you #os #prompt #secrets out saga

[y2ksnowglobe]

Guess who's still thinking about Birdie Oak?

In light of ep. 52, I'm struck by the parallels between Normal and Birdie.

Now Snowglobe, I hear you say, Birdie has zero canon characterization, what are you talking about? Okay, you're not wrong, but she's got a decent bit that can be inferred, so hear me out.

We start with Henry and Sparrow's perspectives on Code Purple. At it's core, it's a disagreement on whether or not protecting your family is worth sacrificing strangers (there are posts that go into this with a lot more nuance and I love those, but I don't want to get sidetracked). I don't think either Sparrow or Henry have the wrong viewpoint here, I think it's pretty much a trolley problem, but the point is we see a Henry that feels that helping those hurt by what he feels are his actions is a higher priority than his family. Heck, we even see this in Season 1 when they go back to Neverwinter and Henry wants to stand trial for what happened with the pyramid at the cost of rescuing their sons. We also know that Henry went on to build his little refugee camp Oakvale on Earth. I don't think it's too much of a jump to suggest that this wasn't a project he would have waited until Mercedes died to start.

HOWEVER, we see through Normal's teen facts that he still sees Mercedes and Henry post-code purple, Henry didn't just pack up the family and move to Earth, so we then get the scenario of Henry bouncing back and forth between the two realms, and in the process, maybe not being around a whole lot while Birdie is growing up. This , logically, gives us a Birdie who would be much closer to Mercedes than Henry, and that isn't a big problem until Mercedes dies.

Even though we don't see Birdie in Oakvale, it is the only logical place she could be, but it's pretty clear from just the description of Henry's hut that they're not close. There's zero indication that he shares that space with anyone else (my personal feeling is he gave her a different hut, since his was already constructed), and he doesn't bring her up to the rest of the teens/Lark and Sparrow while they're there, and would it be weird to the flow of the story if he went and found her to explain what was about to happen while waiting for the ten minutes to be up before the angel eats him? Yeah, but it does seem to indicate that Birdie tends to slip his mind sometimes in the face of everything else.

So where does this leave us? It leaves us with Birdie, losing the parent she was closest to, only to then have to be taken care of by her more distant parent who she has really complicated feelings about.

Okay, so let's look at Normal. It's been mentioned in Teen Talks that he's closer to his mom, and we can see their relationship pretty well in the episodes at their house. Meanwhile, even though hearing that Sparrow isn't proud of him takes him off guard, he mentions when they're in the calzone, that he never got the impression that Sparrow really liked him all that much. Add in the feelings of being left behind while Hero got to go "get ice cream"? Yeah...

So now, with the loss of Rebecca, we have Normal, losing the parent he's closet to, only to then have to be taken care of by his more distant parent who he has really complicated feelings about.

And I know it won't happen in canon, because pulling Birdie out now would be a really odd narrative choice, but...I want Normal and Birdie to talk.

#I'll probably write this at some point #right now I'm focused on my Birdie Oak magnum opus #because the brainworms are real #but I needed to get these thoughts out #Birdie Oak #Normal Oak #Sparrow Oak #Henry Oak #Mercedes Oak #rebecca oak swallows garcia #dndads #dungeons and daddies

[attonposting]

Can we stop to talk about the conversation with Atton where he rambles about women and the idea of love? Because good lord can this man project like a movie theater. We're talking fractal projection. Give him a frickin' medal, because it's projection all the way down.

It's a very missable bit of dialogue. You can only get it with a male Exile, and only then if you've cheesed off Brianna by causing her influence to dip 30 points below Visas's. Unfortunately, this also causes Brianna to permanently stop talking to you, so this is something you're only ever gonna see by accident. I only learned that could even happen pretty recently, and that's with maybe 6 male Exile playthroughs under my belt. I guess I'm just very thorough about exhausting everyone's dialogue options all the time.

So. Brianna's permanently cut herself off as a companion, courtesy of Kreia whispering in her ear, and that sucks. But at least your trashman pilot has something to say about it... and whoa boy is it a consolation prize. Atton proceeds to launch into an arm-around-your-shoulders buddy talk that has exactly nothing to do with your problems and everything to do with his personal issues.

Exile: The Handmaiden lost her temper with me.

Atton: Oh, there's a surprise. Trust me, she's a handful - all warriors are. They're not used to dealing with things they can't punch, kick, or break. Look, I know how it is. Me, there's no denying that I'm a good-looking guy. You have it worse, because even though you might not be as good-looking as me, you have that whole tortured past, that command presence. Women want to save you. They think they can help you.

Exile: What are we talking about?

Atton: They think that everyone can be redeemed, and that they're the only ones who can do it. And you don't know if it's you, or the idea of you that they love.

Exile: [Awareness] Are we talking about me or you?

Atton: We're just talking. Like I said, I've never understood women. It's possible they don't love you at all. That they just want to help you... help you hear yourself if you've gone deaf to your own voice. We all lose our way sometimes, and we need someone to pull us back.

Exile: [Awareness] Sounds like you've had that experience before.

Atton: Don't remember. Truth is, I still don't listen to my conscience even when it's shouting. I think there's times I'd rather be completely deaf than hear it. But all this talk doesn't matter. I'm not qualified to give advice. Besides, when I open my mouth, I'm usually lying anyway.

Like. Just. Holy shit, Atton. Yeah, he's clearly talking about the Jedi who tried to save him, but there's so much more to unpack in here. Let's break it down.

“Women want to save you. They think they can help you.” - Atton wants to save you. He wants to be the hero to your story, something he projects at Mical (to the latter's confusion), but which can also be read into a lot of his actions – when he starts taunting the assassin on Telos to draw heat off you, when he runs out on Nar Shaddaa to give you medpacs and do the same thing with the bounty hunters. The hard evidence is on Malachor. If Atton dies, he says it outright: “Did I save you yet?” And if he falls to the Dark Side, he tells Mical that “he wanted to protect [the Exile], to help her” before he lost his chance.

“They think that everyone can be redeemed, and that they're the only ones who can do it.” - Yeah, it's not really about helping the Exile. Atton needs to be the one that 'saves' you, as a balm to his own lack of purpose and self-worth, and he gets real pissy if anyone else does a better job helping you – or god forbid gets close to you. He's constantly insecure, he's unhappy with most new party members when they join up and, and seriously, the only crime Mical ever committed was being a genuinely good dude in a crew full of misfits. Too bad the galaxy's greasiest pilot reads that as a threat.

“And you don't know if it's you, or the idea of you that they love.” - Atton's attraction to you in a nutshell, and that's before you get the question of Force Bonds involved. Like, seriously. Does he genuinely love you as a person, or is he in love with you as an ideal – as someone who could stop running and face the music for their unforgivable crimes, as someone who actually tries to fix the damage they did? As someone who can still find it in them to care about people after the war broke them down? As a Jedi that actually lives up to the ideal both the Council and Revan failed to? As someone he believes he can relate to, because he thinks he knows your reasons for what you did? Are you a stand-in for his dead Jedi and his hundred conflicting feelings over her? Is he just in love with the idea of having a purpose and wants someone he can bury himself in? Is the idea of martyring himself and finally dying for a reason what he's really obsessed with? Pick your flavor, because who knows! He certainly doesn't!

“It's possible they don't love you at all.” - While this has a lot to do with him wondering why the hell anyone would have tried to save him, I also think this is him reflecting on his own confused feelings towards the Exile. They might not be romantic with an M!Exile (or if they are, he's having intense bi denial), but they're absolutely there and he does not know what to make of them.

“That they just want to help you... help you hear yourself if you've gone deaf to your own voice. We all lose our way sometimes, and we need someone to pull us back.” - This has nothing to do with the Exile, the Handmaiden, or anyone who isn't an ex-Sith assassin who had empathy forcibly shoved into their brain after years of progressively more fucked-up descent into all-consuming hatred.

“Truth is, I still don't listen to my conscience even when it's shouting.” - He almost gets away with this one, but Atton's deep in denial here. He doesn't want to hear it, but he can't turn it off, the same way he can't stop feeling things when he used to have total control of his emotions (because he barely felt anything at all.) It's all why he can't go back to who he was, even though he badly misses the certainty he used to feel. Atton is a pro at ignoring his conscience, which definitely has nothing to do with how much he hates himself, total coincidence... but as soon as the Exile gets involved, that goes out the window, because Atton's self-preservation glitches out. Their Force wound tugs on his better nature... or it yanks at his opposite. And if that happens, Atton is very aware of what's happening to him. He succumbs, but he has more to say on the Exile's fall than anyone short of Kreia. And light or dark, his (im)moral compass gets jarred from 'cover my own ass' to 'protect the Exile' and he repeatedly sticks his neck out for no gain, so yeah, I call bullshit here. He's smack in the middle of his biggest crisis of conscience since the Sith.

“Besides, when I open my mouth, I'm usually lying anyway.” Well, at least he admits it.

#kotor ii #kotor 2 #atton rand #disaster man extraordinaire #slaps ribbed jacket #this bad boy can fit so much projection in it #you can also get atton to say she woke him up inside and i cannot possibly react to this in any other way than yelling evanescence lyrics #happy may the 4th! #have some highly specific analysis on a 19-year-old game

[bettsfic]

Hi Beth!!! How do you deal with the pain of someone giving you bad or negative criticism on your work? Sometimes it's hard for me to decipher between good criticisms that are painful to hear vs just bad criticisms of my work. It's something I have a hard time with

the answer, unfortunately, is time.

it may take weeks or months or even years to look back on painful feedback and either go, "yeah i could see where they were coming from, but they didn't have to be an asshole about it," or "oh wow, they were just flat-out wrong."

until then, you have to let yourself feel your feelings, and maybe set the work down, and maybe lose a little faith in it, and try not to internalize the voice of that person. (i have a story about this at the end of the post.)

the trick to not internalizing that critical voice is to assess the level of respect that person has for you and your work. if they respect the work and what they say is hurtful, the feedback is worth considering, even if you end up tossing it out. if they dismiss or invalidate the work, you just have to go, "wow, you're an idiot and an asshole," and move on, hoping that they'll never read your work again. if they don't respect you now, they never will. their disrespect and the misunderstanding that arises from it comes from a place of fear and self-doubt, and no matter how good their work is, they are still a long way behind you in their writing journey. getting better at writing means getting better at reading and vice versa. if they aren't a good reader then they will never meet their potential as a writer.

the lesson i keep coming back to, that i try to encourage writers to remember, that often feedback that is hurtful may be flat-out wrong, but if you're upset by it, if you can't brush it off, that means it poked at something you've not yet seen, something that may have nothing to do with their feedback at all. maybe they tell you there's too much passive voice in your prose, too many "was"s, and that hurts, but what they're really saying--what they maybe can't meaningfully articulate--is that they want more texture, more style. they just see a problem they've been trained to believe is a problem but don't understand why they think it's a problem, and they try to prescribe a solution. it's like going to a doctor when you have the flu and she gives you a box of tissues. like, sure, the tissues will help your stuffy nose, but you need antibiotics.

the solution to getting over the flu is not to repeatedly blow your nose, just as the solution to "too much passive voice" is not making your verbs active. go through and highlight the sentences you personally find weak and play around with them a bit, recast them, not necessarily with active voice in mind but with elevation.

in short, it's not the feedback you should be paying attention to, but your feelings toward it.

this, as usual, got super long, but below the cut i share some stories about receiving feedback and how i felt about it/what i did with it, along with a lot of analogies.

once, i had a professor who was so mean. i mean he ripped my work to shreds. his crit letters were pages long; he often prescribed solutions and he also spoke with brutal honesty. but i loved it. i knew he really believed in me. he spent hours on my pieces, read them multiple times over, and put so much thought and care into his feedback, even if it was sometimes harsh. i personally believe in tactful honesty, but i'm fine with brutal honesty if it comes from a place of real caring.

there was one story i wrote where i completely disagreed with a suggestion he made. i told myself i would toss that comment aside and take the feedback that felt better and more in line with what i wanted the story to be. but i really valued this professor's opinion, and i trusted him, so i copied the story to a new document (to preserve the draft i believed would be better), and implemented his suggestions in the way i would follow a recipe i've never tried before--believing the measurements and times to be correct and following them, even if they don't sound quite right. i'm just trying it out, and i can adjust it next time.

but it was a good recipe, and he was right. implementing his feedback made the story so much better.

there have been times i've received outright cruel feedback from people, straight-up insults, and they've made me laugh because i knew that it came from a place of admiration, in the same way you watch terrible movies because your favorite actor is in them, or get upset with an athlete because they made a mistake that cost your team the game. you're still going to queue up the next terrible movie in the actor's filmography. you're still going to go to the next game. but someone who disrespects your work would join you in the baseball stadium, complaining that it's not hockey.

the first time i ever workshopped something, i took the feedback i received and implemented all of it. i had this underlying assumption that everyone knew more than me about my own work. it destroyed the work in question. i had over-revised it to the point of unreadability. i truly believe it's possible to revise something too much, or revise in the wrong direction, and you don't know what that looks like until you implement bad feedback and suddenly have clarity about the decisions you've made.

when you articulate your creative choices to build polemics against bad feedback, you become more confident in those choices. the truth that no one tells you is that if you're in a group of 10 people and they all give you feedback, probably only 1 person's feedback will be useful to you, 2 if you are very lucky. the opinion of the other 8-9 exist only to make you say, "you're wrong and here's why." this requires no change to the work itself, but it does change your attitude toward it, and next time you encounter a choice that someone questioned or criticized, you'll be able to implement it more intentionally.

there is, of course, a difference between justification and defense. defense comes from that same place of fear and self-doubt i mentioned before. justification comes from a place of understanding and confidence. it may be frustrating to receive feedback that's wrong, but it doesn't usually hurt. you should be able to brush it off with a kind of "you really just didn't read very carefully" or "you just don't get what i'm trying to do, and you didn't take the time to try to understand." this is, at worst, annoying. being misunderstood is a natural side effect of creating something, and over time it gets easier.

but if it hurts, being inquisitive about that pain, seeking out why you're feeling it, will teach you something.

i've got one more story for you.

a few days ago i was working on my Barbie fic, as you do, and i needed the title of a fake novel. i tossed in a title for a novel i never wrote and probably never would. in my memory, i had written the idea down in a notebook in 2018 and thought, "that might make a cool story one day," and never looked at it again.

when i went to look for that idea i'd written, i found i had in fact written it. i had written 35,000 words of it. i started reading it and i couldn't remember it at all. i wondered if someone hacked into my drive. like always when i read my older work, i see my pitfalls more clearly, things i still do to some degree that i still instinctively grab onto in drafting but have gotten better at revising out, or in some cases making it work. and like always, i see merit in the work. i read certain lines and i go, "wow, i wrote that?"

in this case i saw evidence of a dedication to setting and description i no longer have, and remembered why it used to be important to me. i mentioned in a post last month that i had re-read a YA novel, 3 NBs of Julian Drew, that seemed to have defined a big portion of my aesthetic when i was 12. part of that aesthetic is what i now call magical objects: tiny things that hold big meanings that otherwise wouldn't be acknowledged in the narrative. and in the case of this 35k thing i'd been working on, it was about a hoarder with a terminal illness who asks a boy to help her go through her things so her estranged daughter won't have to deal with it when the mother is gone. it's from the perspective of the boy, who has an interesting relationship with material things, because a fire destroyed everything he owned. and the process is hard for both of them.

and i remembered why i stopped writing it: a good friend of mine, one of my trusted early readers, called it boring, with the implication that he found all my work boring over the past two years we'd been reading for each other.

it's one thing to receive bad feedback on a finished piece. it can stand on its own. but this story was still just an infant, and i trusted this friend with it. i trusted him to respect me and encourage me, but it turned out that the entire time, he hadn't thought very highly of my work at all.

i stopped speaking to him, not just for that but for many other reasons as well, and his feedback hurt me so badly that not only did i set this project down, i forced myself to forget it and never again return to the things he found boring about it, the careful attention to detail and the slow-moving plot.

he was right in that it was not yet doing the work i wanted it to do, and in fact at the time i didn't really understand what i was aiming for. i was only compelled by these characters and this story, and tried to follow their lives as closely as i could. i was writing far above my skill level, which feels a bit like using a screwdriver instead of a power drill. you can get the job done, but it'll take a lot longer and a lot more effort, and there are some tasks you can't really do at all.

that was 5 years ago. a couple days ago, i set down the Barbie fic for a minute and started playing with that 35k, knowing what i know now, and with the skill and patience to maybe do something with it that has clearer ambitions it might be capable of reaching. only 2k of it or so is useful; the rest can be thrown out. but that's enough. it's a foundation for a story that i think is worth existing, and which many, many people would find boring. but there will be a few people who see in it the same things i do, and i'm writing for them.

#writing advice #feedback #feelings

[crstormzy]

castiel headcannons | my candy love

ok so i have this really annoying habit of inviting fictional characters to live in my head rent free for god knows how long. specially when they are assholes. specially when they're the type of assholes i'm really fond of. specially when they're castiel veilmont.

i also have the even more annoying habit of making extremes out of these characters in my head, but oh well... it be like that sometimes.

anyways, it's 3am where i live and i cannot sleep so here's some of the extremes i've taken castiel to during the last few years i've been obsessed with him:

so, first things first, my man is a genius. i'm not talking the einstein kinda genius, but more of a mozart or michelangelo or something like that. he likes art and he understands it and he is so good at it. like, otherworldly good.

he has an awesome vocal range, but he can rock the higher register. and he can also rock the growls so that makes for an interesting combination.

i don't care what others say, i just know castiel can cook. and i'm not talking instant noodles or frozen pizza either, i'm telling you my man can cook. call it perks of living almost alone from a young age, but he is a really great chef (and a really great lover, so be ready for a lot of breakfast treats if you're dating him).

although he is a singer (and a pretty good one at that), castiel just loves bad karaoke nights. like, all out awful singing: out of rhythm, out of breath, out of tune. he's paid to be a good singer all other nights of the year, so he definitely seizes the opportunity to just be a shitty one for a while.

songwriter is coded into his dna. like, waking in the middle of the night, genius ideas, music out of everything type of songwriter. dude writes like he's running out of time.

his lyrics are so deep, always with beautiful metaphors and the kind of thing that just guts you every. fucking. time.

or they're just vulgar nonsense. there's literally no in between.

can sleep anywhere. tour bus? yeah, sleeping. library table? long gone. the most uncomfortable chair in existence? catch him going. his bed, though? forget it. after midnight his brain simply starts running a mile a minute.

not. a. morning. person.

no, seriously. he hates mornings with a passion, specially during hsl. probably because he's always going to sleep horribly late, but he hates having to wake early for anything at all. the only exception is if he's really really really excited about something.

he can hold his liquor, but he hardly ever drinks enough for it to be necessary because he doesn't like the idea of losing control of himself.

stopped smoking somewhere after high school. he was never really dependant on nicotine and after a while (specially after crowstorm) he just stopped altogether. the sensation was nice and all, but kinda of not worth it anymore.

was bullied into becoming crowstorm's vocalist.

also hates instagram with a passion. shows up once every three months, posts a single story (after his manager grilled him for weeks to make any appearance at all) and promptly vanishes again.

would get rid of his phone if he could but, since he can't, he just isn't much of a user.

castiel please stop telling paparazzi to fuck off please for the love of god the press team is begging you stop trying to rip their cameras out of their hands please please

can be very polite and well mannered when he wants to (but he never does)

my boy is a charmer. like, literally everyone falls for him. and then he opens his mouth and just manages to be the biggest asshole ever.

(he claims it's also part of his charm)

lots of people speculate about how many plastic surgeries he's had. partly because he's very pretty, but mainly because of the nose and the eyes. no one believes his nose wasn't bought, and lots of people think he wears contacts.

(in truth he is terrified of plastic surgery, but, ironically, if he wasn't his nose would probably be top of the list of things he would wanna change)

anyways i could spend literal days talking with how much time i've spent with him inside this silly little brain of mine. these are some of the headcannons i could think of on spot but god knows i have so many more...

#he's just such an asshole #i love him so much #please castiel stop terrorizing paparazzi #mcl castiel #castiel veilmont #mcl castiel headcanons #mcl headcanon #crowstorm #mcl crowstorm #my candy love

[thequeenofthewinter]

I Am a Writer

I had a whole thing planned for when I came back and finally started posting chapters again, but now that I sit here at my keyboard, I find words are failing me. (Funny, as what I do here is write.)

Anyway, let's get personal. Recently, I had taken a break from writing, slowing down and trying to find out what I was doing again. It was a difficult decision to take a break. While I really needed it, it took me too long to figure out that this was what I needed to do because I was afraid. Afraid that I wouldn't come back and that I would stop writing and that I wouldn't be a writer anymore.

In the two years I have been doing this, I found great comfort and even greater friendships, and I was scared that I would lose that, and then where would I be? Sure, I would be the same person, but writing had become such an important hobby to me and brought so much joy to my life that I couldn't imagine my life without it.

Cool story, bro, but why are you talking about all of this?

I don't pretend I know everything or that this blog is to give you some divine advice which will solve all of your problems. I'm not one of those blogs. However, I thought I would talk about it and share my experience with you because we don't really talk about those things. We post our accomplishments. We talk about how to write. We share our writing. But what about the tough stuff in-between?

You are not alone. I think sometimes we forget with the outward facing mask of social media (if that is even what the Hellsite can be called) that we all go through rough patches, and it's okay--and we can talk about it.

Recently, I had been talking to @oblivions-dawn @mareenavee @dirty-bosmer and @paraparadigm about a lot of these things as I have been trying to sift and sort through the question of: what the hell am I doing? (Thank you friends, your talks and support in general have been invaluable.)

I didn't know if I was going to quit. I had hoped not, but I had doubts in myself. What if this next chapter took forever? What if everyone left? What if I disappeared into the sunset and never wrote another word ever again? I had a lot of feelings and made a lot of assessments in the past month. A lot of them I had already known, I just forgot about them.

Taking a break is okay. You're still a writer unless you don't want to be, and the hobby will always be there for you to pick up again. Actually, taking a break has made the process better and helped me to reflect on some things, such as:

I am not a machine.

Taking more time is not only good for mental health, but also for the writing process.

You are not beholden to the original rules you set for yourself. Things change. (Going forward, I am saying "fuck off" to my schedule.)

It's okay to have these doubts, and I think we all have them at times.

I really do love what I am doing, and all writing is worth it if it brings you joy.

Learning and reflecting on writing are important parts in the lifecycle of writing in and of itself. You don't have to keep writing, and you don't have to be a machine to be a writer. You don't have to post. You don't have to keep a schedule. There is no "fear of missing out" on anything because it's all there and waiting for you when you're ready.

I'm ready.

I am a writer, and I posted my first new chapter after my break.

I'm really excited about what happens next.

#winter rambles #how writing a fic works

[tunahaswares]

- Lucien Flavius headcanons .

Lucien is book smart but absolutely not people smart. if you ask if he's flirting with you when he talks to you the first time, he stammers over his words and makes it sound *even worse*, which is so dorky and adorable to me. He knows a lot about history and random facts about the Dwemer, but he doesn't know how to adapt that knowledge to people. I mean, what he knows doesn't even begin to translate to socializing.

But he's still so naturally charismatic in a silly goofy way. He sings songs, does rhyming games with Inigo, tells you scary stories by the fire, etc etc. He has RIZZ he just doesn't know how to use it. or that it even exists.

(This man giggles and tells me I made him blush and I'M FUMBLING SO HARD IM TAKING SCREENSHOT AFTER SCREENSHOT- he did a little idle pose where he tilted his head and I squawked like a bird in shock.)

and his REACTION when you activate the lover stone.... whatever he says, he ends it with "not that I... ah..." like he's gonna say "not that I'm not interested in you!" or whatever. I forget the specifics of what he said, but he's saying the stone is better for the player and not for him, and is just generally embarrassed. I'd wager he's never been in a relationship before. He's always been study study study, books books books. And daydream daydream DAYDREAM.

Good lord his head's in the clouds sometimes. He's also confident in a weird way? Like he has self doubt, evident by how he asks Inigo "do you think I'm useful?". But when you kill your third dragon with him, he makes an off handed comment and calls your team "team Lucien". so he definitely has a fully fed ego from his very loving parents who gave him EVERYTHING. It's not like he ever asked his parents for dating advice, though. He never thought he'd need it!

So here he is, fumbling and turning bright red as he tries to convey his feelings.

"Well... you see, what I wanted to talk to you about was, I think I'm... No, I know I'm- would that even be the right word? I do really like you but can I even call it that? i-"

and he goes on and on. Can he say it? can he just say he's in love? isn't that a strong word?the poor guy is losing it.

I'ma just kiss him to shut him up fr fr

anyways.

He's totally a little spoon. He's barely even toned. Skinny and short, he needs to be protected and kept warm! Skyrim is a harsh land, very cold! He over thinks romantic gestures though. and affection.

He wants to hold your hand but "oooh is that okay? should he ask or would that be weird? but you're so stunning illuminated by the campfire... maybe he wants to kiss you instead - NO too much!" It gets him blushing just thinking about making a move like that!!!!

Oftentimes he will ask and need to be reassured he's doing the right thing by asking, or told he doesn't have to ask. depending on personal preference, ofc.

He's a darling angel. Don't worry, he gains confidence overtime! He can kiss you on the cheek and not feel like he's gonna explode! he still gets embarrassed, especially if you tease him over it.

"Aawww, still in love with me, Flavius?"

"Oh gods, not this again..."

You could never annoy him, even if his tone says otherwise. He gets frustrated being teased, but that's just overcooked embarrassment if you think abt it.

Loves pda but would never admit it... he feels comforted by it, just as long as it's not too much.

Hold his hand or wrap your arm around his waist. Bonus points if you do this while in windhelm. hates that fucking city, but LOVES showing u off to the Nords... look he's dating the fucking last dragonborn and ur not... who's the milk drinker now huh bitch???

Lucien loves to just relax after a long day. Reading to you is his favorite. He'll even try to cook dinner for the both of you if you're too tired after a whole days worth of preventing dragons from singing his ass.

As you fall asleep, head resting on his lap as he reads to you, Lucien will silently stroke your face and close his book.

And just… sit there. Admiring you. How did he ever get so lucky? You've saved him more time than he could count… He hopes his love is enough to repay you for that.

----------------

wrote this on discord in midst of a ramble lol. Y'all deserve it tho

#elder scrolls #skyrim #lucien flavius #Lucien #the elder scrolls #skyrim mods #skyrim lucien #lucien x reader #lucien flavius x reader

[littlewestern]

I just thought of something. For your silver and black stories, how did Pilot, Pioneer, and 2903 react when Burlington Northern Santa Fe was created? I mean, their home railroads are now one and the same! (Makes one wonder how preserved trains would feel about their railroads merging out of existence. I imagine 999 has certain feelings about Penn Central and Conrail)

Oh this is a really interesting question!

I think by 1994 all the engines mentioned had come to terms with the fact that rail industry had simply changed so much in the past 60 years that it wasn't worth getting too sentimental over. Since they all were retired by the '70s, I think the more affecting change would have been the CB&Q becoming Burlington Northern.

It's important to note up-top that engines are familiar with change and know well that their entire industry is founded on shifting sand. CB&Q engines and Zephyrs in particular would know this well, and would be more sensitive to the ways in which the Q would adjust their marketing and scheduling strategies based on cost and changing customer expectations. Basically, all engines know going in that things are subject to change, sometimes at a moment's notice, and for the most part they aren't too sentimental about it. It's just the way of things, y'know?

That being said, I do think that the absorption of the Q into Burlington Northern would have been a somewhat sobering moment for Pioneer in particular, which may or may not be surprising depending on how well you know him. It's not like it ruined his day to hear the news or anything, but you have to remember that the Pioneer Zephyr defined the entire look of last third of the CB&Q's lifespan. The Zephyrs got people excited to take the train and set the tone for how every other railway in the country would market their passenger rail service for the next 30-some-odd years. Pioneer wasn't just important to the Q, he was important to the culture. But by the time 1970 rolls around, he's been out of service for a decade, and rail travel looks significantly different to what it once did. Losing the Q to consolidation is a sign of the times and a tacit remark on the then current state of rail travel.

It would have been, at the very least, the end of an era, and that in and of itself deserves a moment of recognition. It's not sad exactly, because change is inevitable, and it's not worrying exactly either, because Pioneer himself was built and born of time of uncertainty - only to eventually become a symbol that the future of travel was brighter than ever! But it is the way of things, and I think it would have at least given Pioneer some pause.

Pilot on the other hand, would have seen this one coming. After all, his retirement marked the end of the Zephyrs outside of the California Zephyr. He would have been familiar with the decline in passenger service quality from the time he was built in 1940 to the day the Zephyr service ended in 1968. Where Pioneer was only watching this change happen gradually from the outside, Pilot would have lived it.

I'm not sure how much loyalty 2903 would have felt to the culture of the AT&SF, given that he was built so late, was part of such a small class, and honestly didn't even work for that long. I do think, like most engines, he would have felt a sense of pride in his heritage and there might have even been some light ribbing in the MSI yard about how at least the Santa Fe was still going strong even as the Q had to forfeit its identity, but I don't know that the creation of BNSF would have inspired anything in him besides some slight annoyance when the teasing was turned back around on him. "Guess you're a Burlington engine now, chief!" Cue eyeroll. 2903 has never really appreciated the Burlington approach.

As for 999, oh boy lol! Don't even get her started. Her feelings on the NYC and Penn could be a whole essay unto themselves. Suffice to say that they are mixed. The best favor NYC ever did her was retire her before they became the Penn so she wouldn't have to share the name of the railway that scrapped nearly every single one of their steam engines.

#tfissab behind the scenes #asks #quite-a-character #pioneer zephyr #silver pilot #nyc 999 #atsf 2903