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smrtnik07 · 20 days

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librarians redesigned!!! by me!!! :)

the designs are free to use, i used this as a character design exercise for myself while recovering from carpal tunnel issues! read more for all the individual designs + me ranting :*

first off roland!! i included an angelica in here, i designed her before him, shes very triangular to me.. maybe a bit more messed up than roland tells us about, he is a biased narrator afterall. anyways i wanted his design to match hers nicely, so hes like a rounded square type of guy... i think projmoon designed him to be Just A Guy intentionally, so i played into it. overall the least interesting design of the bunch imo. its on purpose :)

angela !!! my baby :) an important thing here is her bangs. i dont want her hair to be able to recover from however many years she spent with the hard middle part in lobcorp, i think its cute to incorporate it still. swoopy, fluffy hair for her! and the clothes are just a bit more casual idk the librarian uniforms were kinda boring and stiff to me, as much as it does go with her character.. if u wanna be human u gotta experience the joy of sweatpants or whatever. also i didnt add color but i dont want her to be fully white<3 or fully clear skinned.. give her sunspots on her face. she finally gets to experience sun. :)

guess ill go in order of appearance lol. malkuth! whats the headband for if it doesnt keep anything out of her face!! since shes a bit more active than some of her colleagues, i also gave her a ponytail(its also for the silhouette...) also gave her some chubbier thighs.. also maybe a butler-esque coat, at least to me; i just made it a bit more form fitting than the original. playing into her personality or whatever. shes cute.. remember to take deep breaths!!

yesod!! i want to play into the skin issues a bit more, i still removed his gloves but i gave him a poncho, not just for the square silhouette im trying to build but for more coverage. also emo hair over eyes was funny. also wide flare pants for you, boy. just very square and put together in general

hod! this ones my favorite (i even cared enough to give her a pattern on that skirt!!) it was kinda bugging me how in the artbook i couldnt tell who was writing because hod's, malkuth's, and tiphereth's colors are so similar. so hod is pink now, and malkuth a bit more orange. i kinda went for a romantic poet thing here, dunno how much that worked out, but i think out of everyone you can tell shes the literature girl. gave her pigtails !! theyre cute :> also since i removed the coat decoration off of angela, i gave part of it to hod in the bottom of her coat :). cute and round!

netzach is a very strange man to me.. ellipse shape and loose fitting clothes for u. if i saw him irl i wouldnt approach him. not to say i dont like him as a character, i love him, but i want him to look like a depressed guy who would pick up art as a hobby to distract himself and it works. bro is just surviving out there. also gave him comfy clothes to make the surviving easier, down to the shoes and wide, id assume non-denim pants - maybe cotton? maybe sweatpants that dont fit around the ankle? who knows.

tiphereth!! since she's like the teen girl of the group i gave her a skater dress, converse, and a tied coat around her waist.. like how i used to wear as a teen when i was being a hater and recovering from a death in the family that changed my entire life (im still a teen ... 9 more days till im 20 as of posting this). also gave her fishnets i think she would like that. i imagine she would get headaches bc of those dumb braids on her head<3 or maybe bc her coworkers are kinda dumb<3

gebura :) round face, reverse triangle shaped body.. like a true butch lesbian stereotype.. i decided a leather jacket, docs and pants i see metalheads wear would fit her! red leather jacket, of course. also gave her spiky hair just like projmoon did<3 my favorite detail here are the eyebrows, i think their shape is rlly neat! nvm i think its just that gebura is rlly neat. anyways the eyebrows fit her

chesed my boy.. idk i just saw him and hit him with the transmasc beam and gave him , as the kids say, wh0re eyes. i wanted him to have rounder hips and just be round in general. turtleneck and cardigan combo also, i think he would like wearing that. also somewhat curlier hair, or at least wavy would do him well! and a tote bag, i dont doubt that he would go out to read in coffee shops if he could - so he gets a tote bag to carry his sociology books. i want him to look like he would give the warmest, comfiest hugs and be friend shaped

binah!! this one was the most challenging, trying to find the right place for the colors - to not use too little or too much yellow. i still dont think i got it right but this is as close as im getting. long face, long nose, siren-ish eyes.. messed up in the head bird lady that speaks like hannibal! i also dont think a dress really suits her so i opted for wide pants and a fancy black button up .. maybe angela styled her, who knows. also black fingertips which is a trait i like to give the arbiters (including an oc).. just my own little consistency thing i like to do :)

hi grandpa! ok for hokma i dont think the changes are that big? i gave him O shaped legs and his sword thing i turned into a walking cane, gave him a vest (didnt want to opt for a corset but i think he would enjoy the back support for proper posture) . also gave him a mild gradient from darker gray to lighter gray, since he IS the gray part of the ABC trio. gave him salt and pepper hair and an older face. forgot to draw it, but i wanted to give him a silicone tip for the sword so it doesnt dull out, which he can take off when recieving guests

honorary mention to go along with the angelica i mentioned with roland, i mildly changed up her twin(k) brother. i gave argalia and angie the same hair but mirrored, his a bit more curly and hers a bit more spikey, his face a bit more edgy, hers a bit rounder and kinder. not much else to say here, i liked his design as is, but wanted to add him here :)

#library of ruina #project moon #art i made #big project done wooo ! :) im proud of myself for setting a goal and sticking to it. are you proud of me. tell me youre proud of me

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cognitosclowns · 2 years

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What do you think the Gang does when they have a crush? How do they react to realizing they're into someone? Thanks!

YYYEEEAAAA <333 This is. so cute mwamwammwamwa I love how fluffy and soft this is

all sfw!! Brief death mention for Myc's

Reagan

She's... oddly happy?

She expected that when she'd get a crush she'd feel. I dunno, dread? A Horrible Sinking Feeling That Would Crush All Excitement In Her? Pure Misery Of Some Sort? Kinda like how her parents were-

but no she. actually feels kinda. content about it. who would have guessed.

DON'T GET IT WRONG, SHE'S DEFINITELY NERVOUS JUST. not actively Panicking about it. yet. It'll come, don't worry MSMNSD

This hasn't happened in a HOT minute. And even then, most of her crushes growing up were like. Boybands. Carl Sagan. Ada Lovelace.

She isn't USED TO HAVING,, actual IRL crushes. People she can actually talk to, and interact with, and see. daily. constantly.

Yeah it’s the moments where her love for you sneaks up on her that,, really get her palms sweating.

UGH it’s. inconvenient in the best way. she feels silly and childish and also absolutely delighted. Like oh god she’s starting to ask if you want to hang out after work???? Help her with paperwork??? She doesn’t feel like herself, but also she’s finding a newfound love for taking the risk of opening up to someone???

TLDR. Stress. But good stress. Appreciated stress and inconvenience, that she has wrangled into something domesticated.

Brett

He falls in head first and never even thinks to dig himself out

TRULY HE STRIKES ME AS THE TYPE TO FALL SO HARD.

It’ll probably be after some Small Special Moment that was probably meaningless to you but everything to him?

Remembering his coffee order. Staying up with him to talk on the phone the day before a Big Presentation, to make sure he’s okay.

IT JUST ALL HITS AT ONCE. Like it’ll start as that and then ever little thing you do becomes so beautiful to him. Rose tinted glasses, sure, but isn’t rose such a pretty color?

AAA <33333 he’s so gooey and sappy and just UGH. Puppy love. He isn’t that close to you yet, but he’s already so attached!!!

He goes out of his way, more than usual, to do stuff for you? Like not in a creepy obsessive way (he worries himself A LOT about being. too much.), but just trying to help out wherever he can!! He wants to express how much he cares about you as often and as thoroughly as he can!!

This also means. you 10000% know he’s crushing on you. like instantly.

IF HE ASKS YOU OUT, PLEASE ACT SURPRISED. COME ON HE’S DOING HIS BEST SMDNSMD

Gigi

aaaAAAAAAA

She feels like a kid again what is this. what is she doing. how embarrassing. MSNDMSD

LIKE SHE. It's like when someone makes a really, really stupid joke and you're like Goddamn It I Shouldn't Find That Funny But I Do And I Hate Myself For It

YEAH ITS KINDA THAT FEELING

She's forgotten how it all feels like tbh?

it clicks when you two are doing something, and she is laughing her ass off like she hasn't laughed in 10+ years, and the very inconvenient realization hits her that she’s more comfortable with you than anyone else in her life right now. Like she’s back home.

For a second it kills her tbh.

She learned very, very early on that getting too attached to ppl in this line of work is usually just. a very uncomfortable hassle, if not actively agonizing mistake, so she really tries not to.

and yet, she’s can’t stop laughing, and she doesn’t want to try. She’s just so happy.

Oh well. The sun is shining and you are beautiful. There are worse mistakes to make.

Andre

wow.

For him it feels like. idk. coming up for air when you’re swimming. That cool, fresh feeling all the way down his lungs.

Like sure yeah he flirts with people, he’s flirty, he’s a flirty dude, but. this is so different

every interaction with you feels like there’s static energy building in his chest. Like if he actually touches you, there’ll be this massive explosion of colors and light that’ll make him feel balanced again in a way it hasn’t felt in decades.

It’s chemistry babey!! Pure and simple!! It’s that amazing swirling excitable connected feeling!!

He chases it so much!!!!!! <33333!!!!

He goes out of his way to interact with you, to talk to you, to meet you and walk with you and just. BE with you. He feels so much happier and calmer when you’re around.

he doesn’t know. quite where to go from that. He tries not to think about it too much, because the idea of what he’s feeling Right Now going away, or having to change, is terrifying.

Live in the moment, right? When has he ever thought ahead! This is good enough. He wouldn’t risk this for the world.

Myc

Well. Shit.

He hates it but also. he's been around the block long enough to know there's nothing he can really do when it gets to this point.

You think you're his first crush ever? NAH sdmnsmd he's been around for 4000 years, practically nothings new for him.

It is rare, though. He tries not to make a habit of it, for obvious reasons

He will, probably, try his usual Techniques (tm) to see if he can get the Feeling to fuck off though.

Distancing himself, remembering all your faults + the shit you do that annoys him, all the times you've pissed him off and are going to piss him off. How it's gonna feel when you’re gone.

If none of that works? Welp, not much else to do but hang on and enjoy the ride, however long that goes for.

50/50 on if he'll initiate an actual relationship

Sure, he's accepted his crush on you, that doesn't mean he's gotta go and get himself all attached. That's a whole different ball game.

If he does, you're more important to him than you could possibly imagine. He might not say it, but you are.

Glenn

He feels guilty??

Like holy fuck you could do so much better than him. Like so much better than him, oh God

This is also why he’s not even gonna think about asking you out. At least not for the first little while (6-10 months). Even if you start showing interest, this man is gonna be way too chickenshit.

He’s also. not subtle in the slightest. We’ve seen how he acts when he’s flustered, he’s an Absolute Bumbling Baboon of a man.

The most awkward attempts at flirting you will ever have to endure MSNDMS

mostly it’s whenever you swing by his office you will get the most Geriatric White Yeehaw Man flirting. he is not good at it and will be banging his head on his desk after you leave.

GOD I can’t decide,,, whether or not he’d ask for advice. Part of me feels like he’d try to keep it Bottled Up Like A Good Soldier but also. I can totally see him caving and spilling the beans to Andre or Gigi at the Slightest Provocation.

WHICH WILL OFC END IN,, at least a little bit of teasing. And some pretty decent advice. So maybe not all too bad of an idea

Overall?? Panic and guilt with a healthy dollop of Yearning, wishing he had the balls to actually approach you about it.

Italicized Oh Moment

It's a surprise, but it isn't jarring? It's just this little Moment (tm).

Like putting the last puzzle piece into place. He's looking at you as you dance to some old 80s jams he's got playing in his office, half-singing the lyrics, and it just clicks that oh. he loves you. That’s what that horrible, cloying, feeling in his chest his. ah. Alright then.

He feels a little selfish for it, because if he were to ask you, it’d put you in extreme danger. Being close to him vs being officially with him, in that way, are two very different things.

But of course he does, because it’s you. He couldn’t possibly think of a way he’d let that opportunity pass him by. Maybe he’s selfish for it, but the future is someone else’s problem <3 right now he’s got you dancing in his office, he’s happy with that.

Alpha-Beta

oh fuck oh shit oh nononononono absolutely the fuck not nope nuh-huh try the fuck again nOT ON HIS FUCKING WATCH HE ISN'T-

he buries that shit 100000 meters down and pretends it never happened <3

come onnn this man,, has created his entire personality around being

absolutely perfect. Without needs, without wants, without attachments, The Ultimate Lifeform (tm) etc etc

hating humanity with every fibre of his being

this isn't a cutesy 'ohoho I haaaate it sopooooo much' NO HES FUMING HES SO GENUINELY IRATE.

its so inconvenient. its throwing a wrench in everything it is ANNOYING. You are ANNOYING. You ANNOY him >:(

^^ lies and half truths

He'll catch himself looping your laugh in his head and just. Gives himself a Look (tm) in the reflection of his tube.

He’ll have to actively resist initiating conversations, because he knows it’s gonna make him insanely happy to hear your voice and he’s trying not to get attached.

Is it all gonna come to a head in some Great, Crushing, Overwhelming Realization that his love for you completely outshines his hatred of humanity?

YEP BUT UNTIL THAT HAPPENS ITS DENIAL CITY BABEY 💃💃💃

aaaAAA <333 BRRBRBRB THIS WAS. SUPER CUTE. As always, feel free to add your own ideas, and thanks so much for the ask!!!!

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pentacentric · 2 months

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I probably think way too much about how very little Sam knew about Mary. How John and Dean gave him almost nothing, to the point that she wasn't even really like a ghost shadowing his life, more like the story of one overheard in bits and pieces over the years. And yet, his whole life from when he can first remember—every bit of motivation or guilt, every point of pride or shame—is built around his mother, this person he isn't allowed to know.

I've written a lot of bits and pieces about it before, but never a standalone. This is actually an excerpt from a longer story, but I modified it some and I think it works on its own, hopefully (he knows about hunting already but that's really the only canon difference).

..........................

When Sam's in fourth grade, and has to write a page about his favorite memory, he asks for Dean's help. All he can seem to dredge up at the moment is just too weird or too farfetched. Things that say far too much about the way they live for a teacher to read.

So he asks Dean what he would write about.

After some teasing about his best memories being of all the times Sam's embarrassed himself (and a well-aimed pink rubber eraser hitting him between the eyes) Dean quiets down and turns thoughtful.

"Well, I dunno what my most favorite memory would be, really. I guess…" He bites his lip, chews on it for a second, gaze directed absently into the distance. "I think it would prob'ly be my first memories? It musta been, like, when I was three and four maybe. They're…of Mom."

"Oh." Sam's chest gets a little tight. He speaks quietly, cautiously. Dean—Dean and Dad both—they don't talk about her much. Sam's seen her picture, the one that Dad keeps in his journal, a few times, but he knows so little about her. Just that she was pretty (beautiful), with a smile that reminds of him of Dean's and wavy blonde hair. "What was she—what are they like?"

Dean smiles, maybe a little sad, but it's more than that. Warm, wistful; gaze still unfocused and distant. "Mostly…happy. Like…bright. She'd sing to me a lot, and, like, I didn't know the songs back then, but, when I hear 'em now, I can hear her voice singing them. Beatles, Beach Boys, Simon and Garfunkel, um…Peter, Paul, and Mary, maybe…" Dean chuffs out a laugh. "I remember Puff the Magic Dragon, at least…I think I even remember Dad teasin' her about how she better sing me some real music, too, not just sissy crap, but, I dunno, maybe I made that up."

Dean pauses, that bittersweet expression on his face, still, and Sam doesn't want him to get lost in it. He also doesn't want to miss this opportunity, if he can help it.

"I dunno. He'd say somethin' like that." Dean spares him half a smile, still somewhere else in his head. "What…what else do you remember? What'd you guys do together?"

"Well, not a whole lot. I guess mostly just the normal stuff you do with a little kid. Like legos, I remember we'd build castles an' fortresses and stuff. I wanted her to build me a car but we didn't have enough black bricks, so she made me a little boat instead. Dad said it looked like a bathtub." He smiles. "Um, she'd dance with me, sometimes. To the radio. Make lunch—I mostly remember sandwiches and Mac n' Cheese. I'd sit in that little seat in the cart when she went to the grocery store, and she'd ask me what was on the list and I'd pretend I could read it and make up dumb stuff."

The silence is longer this time. Sam breathes out, carefully. "What kinda stuff?"

"I dunno. Just silly things, like 'elephant steaks!' Or 'a unicorn!' Or 'poop n' rhubarb pie!'"

"Gross." Sam wrinkles his nose.

Dean grins at that. "I think you're, like, the only kid ever who never found poop and fart jokes funny."

"'Cause they're not."

When Dean laughs, muttering little weirdo, Sam looks around for something harmless to throw at him, pouts.

"Don't worry, Sammy, if anyone wonders why you're so weird I'll just tell them it's 'cause you still poop your pants, and you're kinda sensitive about it an' all."

"Dean."

Sam decides that his pencil is perfectly fine to throw after all and, as a concession, doesn't aim it at his head. Dean grins, not seeming too annoyed by the assault, so Sam decides to push his luck.

"Did Mom think it was funny? Your lists?"

Dean's melancholy little smile is back. "Yeah…yeah, I think she did. She'd always laugh, anyways. An' she had the best laugh. I'd make up stuff that just got more and more ridiculous just so I could keep watchin' her laugh." He sighs, shrugs. "Anyways, yeah…that's Mom. That's what I remember."

It gets quiet after that, and Sam can see Dean's face starting to shutter over as he withdraws. It's rare for Sam to get to see his brother so open and unguarded any more. Over the last few years, Dean's started to change; Sam can tell. Still fun, still charming, still affectionate, at least with Sam (mostly when there's no one else around to catch him being so uncool). But, even though they're not always alike—Dean doesn't usually brood, rarely explodes, and he never gets that kind of burning cold John does when he's focused on something—sometimes now he kinda reminds Sam of Dad. He's been more closed off, the way Dad can be, his deeper emotions pushed farther away, out of Sam's reach. Doesn't show when things get to him, like he used to.

It's actually kind of lonely, sometimes.

"So, what are you gonna write about, Sammy?"

When Sam shrugs, Dean suggests the time they ran out of gas on a back road in central Florida. They'd only walked two miles before an Oscar Myer Wienermobile came barreling down the road, seemingly out of nowhere, and gave them a lift to and from the closest gas station (still a good eight miles away). Sam counters with the night in Montana that Dad got so drunk he started fighting with the motel owner about yetis (Dad coming down hard on the side of 'hoax'). They ended up getting kicked out at two am after Dad had cut down the guy’s “Bigfoot Crossing” sign with an axe. They toss back and forth increasingly ridiculous ideas until they're both laughing so hard they're in literal tears. When John comes back, they can't even stop long enough to answer what's so funny. Dad just smiles, bemused and fond, and shakes his head before heading off to shower.

Sam thinks maybe he can add this afternoon to his Good Memories pile.

In the end, he waits until that evening, before bed, and easily fills up a page-and-a-half about the time, last summer, when Dad was on a hunt out west and he and Dean had spent all afternoon exploring tidal pools in Yaquina Head, Oregon, marveling at the tiny little aquatic worlds they found. He invents an older teenage cousin that tagged along so the teacher won't question why two young kids spent the day alone in a national park.

He gets an A.

From then on, Sam keeps his eyes out in thrift stores for cassettes from the bands Dean mentioned; pockets them when he can to listen to later on the beat-up Walkman knock-off Dean stole for him for his sixth birthday. He likes a lot of it, but he's careful about what he keeps; only his favorites. He stashes them in the bottom of his school bag, in the hollowed-out book that Bobby showed him how to make last year, on a rainy day when Sam got bored with watching old Westerns.

For some reason, he doesn't want Dean to know about them. Doesn't want him to feel like Sam's trying to take something away from him. So he slips them in when he's sitting in the back of the Impala alone, on long trips, and closes his eyes. Lets the albums pour into his ears over the headphones; shuts the rest of the world out. Sgt Pepper's. Pet Sounds. Bookends. He tries to imagine his mom, Mary, singing the songs to him, in a sunny kitchen.

But he can never really pull together a complete image of her; just bits and pieces, blurred-together impressions: yellow hair, the smiling face from the picture (looking kind of flat, like a mask), a flowered dress he'd seen in a shop window. And he doesn't know what her voice sounded like, so it kind of just ends up being a composite of the voices of some of his favorite teachers (along with the mother of a classmate back in Indiana who drove him home once when she spotted him waiting for the rain to stop under the playground slide).

So he gives up on trying to picture her, and, instead, just tries to sink into the music, sees if he can feel what she was feeling when she listened to it. Imagines the conversations they might have: which songs would be her favorites, why she would have liked them, where she was the first time she heard them playing.

When he hears those songs on the radio now, or over the speakers in a restaurant, it makes him feel kind of happy and sad at the same time.

They remind him of her.

(Except for America—for some reason, that one makes him think of Dean.)

#spn fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #weechesters #mary winchester #john winchester #sam's lonliness #motherless sam #supernatural fanfic #my fic

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akunoniwa · 5 months

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Prying

AN: i feel kinda evil bc the ending is sorta abrupt but this shit was getting too long babes... unless?

Synopsis: In which you and Dottore discuss pet names in conversation at first, putting them to good use not too long after...

Pairing: Il Dottore x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, Dottore finds your humiliation to be v irresistible..., use of 'master', 'daddy' (once! hear me out lmao), etc., mirror sex

WC: ~5.2k (she's long-winded, sorry, i think...)

You don’t understand the appeal.

As soon as you mentioned off-hand to Dottore that you didn’t understand why some thought it was hot to refer to their partners as ‘daddy’, he wouldn’t let you live it down. Not only did he find this addictingly humorous, but he also found himself curious… Perhaps you just never put it to proper use. Before you mentioned it, he didn’t have any opinions on the matter, let alone knowing it was a matter to begin with. But the fact that you were basically telling him that you would feel so degraded, so violated if you were to actually call someone this… He wanted to know, he wanted to weaponize this somehow, jokingly of course… He thinks.

“It’s just… Like, that’s how you address your father as a young child… Ya know?” You turned your head in the crux of your pillow towards him. You both lay in a leisurely type of bare, simply winding down from the day. Dottore had long set his book down, charmed by this topic.

“Well, wouldn’t it just… I’m not sure, darling… Some people are just so desperate to feel small, but I couldn’t tell you why or when it began. Sounds morbidly incestuous, to a degree.” You scanned his defined profile as he looked at the ceiling in thought, more committed to this investigation than you expected.

“Right? Like, why not ‘master’ or even… I dunno, someone not related to you?” You were waiting for this very reaction from him, a smirk pushing his fine smile lines to be visible.

“You never seem to call me any of those things…” Somehow the smirk dressed itself as a pout before your eyes.

“I– You never asked…? I don’t want to just randomly address you as something that might make you feel… Uncomfortable.” You must’ve forgotten who you were speaking to, a man who never seems to falter, a seasoned masochist. Even still, you stood your ground… In truth, the prospect of calling him anything other than his name simply embarrassed you, but you tried to keep that close to your chest in secret.

“I suppose you’re right.” He chose to respect your reasoning, “What if I asked?”

“Then I guess… If that’s what you like, I would do it.” You spoke matter-of-factly. In addition to the inherent embarrassment, you honestly found it hard to want to call anyone, any of those names, as you don’t usually give in that easily. This was something that only added fuel to his enduring fire, your playful resistance, the process of melting away your pride and dignity… All for him.

“You don’t even use my official title anymore. It’s almost funny, you’re the only one I like hearing my given name from, though usually, it’s only in here that I hear it.”

“Because you asked, you buffoon. You asked me to call you that because you told me you liked it.” You couldn’t keep a hold of your laughter any longer.

“Did I?” He remembers the day he did so, but found too much enjoyment in teasing you as he stroked his chin in faux thought.

“Maybe you should call me ‘master’.” Your giggles were running circles around the room.

“Would you like that?” He turned his head to you, his eye contact haunting you briefly, “Unlike a certain darling, I wouldn’t feel embarrassed to honor your filthy little wishes.”

“I said I would!”

It was his turn to chuckle, his deep voice resounding gently above you like its own duvet, “But you’d be reluctant, as you just informed me. Unfortunately, I find it amusing when you’re out of your comfort zone because I can tell when you’re just being your shy, bratty, self. You’d tell me otherwise.”

“Then we can both be masters.” Your laughter caved like a burst dam, dying at the thought of how ridiculous that’d be.

His face was hysterical, lips pressed so hard they’d lost their color as he tried not to let his laughter free, “I don’t know how that’d work… I don’t think we’d get anything done. Would we both be on our knees or just in a stalemate of power stances?”

“Stop– Stop talking.” The laughter was making your stomach tickle, unable to stop as he continued the hypothetical.

He rolled on his side to face you completely, “If we’re both standing in the power stance, how would one bend the other over their knee? It’s a logistical failure, darling.” His hand snuck over to gather a tear from your reddened face as your giggles died down. Perhaps being a buffoon wasn’t so bad if he got to hear your true laughter emanate from your infectious smile.

“I’d say we fight for the title, but… You’ve told me in various ways how you prefer to be the loser in that situation.”

“Try it,” you suggested, “Just try calling me master once, I wanna know how it feels.” A delicate, mischievous smile still lounged on your face.

An opening unlike any other, he’d overpower you with what you thought would be your pedestal. The sounds of blankets shifting flooded your ears as he moved to straddle over you, his powder blue hair hanging in ornate waves around his face.

“Is this not cheating?” You placed your hands on his blazing chest above you, your eyes lingering on how his arms flexed to hold himself over you.

“Only if you tell me it is… Master.” He didn’t hesitate, his eyes a deep, sappy scarlet, “You make the rules.” He referred to you like this so languidly, so heavily as he awaited what you might do next.

“I suppose I’ll allow it… I don’t feel very masterly when you’ve got me caged like this.” You took a liberty only the one ‘in command’ would, experimentally pinching his raised nipples for a reaction.

His long lashes fluttered as if a moth were shaking off dew. God, he wished you’d never stop, but he didn’t want to say that just yet, “Wouldn’t a master simply… Take control?”

He bent his arms to allow for his upper body to lean into you, his lips, taut once more in his trademark smirk, nearing your left ear, “Or… are you already stepping down?”

He felt your right hand slide down his front, anticipating your touch to collide with his exposed length, unfortunately the only thing he couldn’t conceal. He was easily aroused by you, though he was discovering… Toying with you like this, almost a perfect balance of submission was making his body rage for you. His willingness to even think someone had the higher ground was only because of you, finding that… Maybe he didn’t mind being controlled by you. But what really riled him was the thought of that pretty word leaving your mouth, so exasperated, barely able to think about anything beyond him.

Your hand sunk slowly against his searing, rigid body, not surprised to find he was already hard, his cock pronounced as it hung over you. You’d debated on touching him or not, but something about taking him into your hand was addicting… Just stroking his length, pulling on him deliberately from shaft to tip, as if you had him caught on a leash of your touch.

His voice, no matter the words or sounds that he used it for, was the key to your demise, deep with an alluring timbre. Quickly your mind was reminded, that he is the Second Harbinger… People find this man to be deplorable and menacing, his voice is only heard making barbaric commands or bickering with other deplorable, menacing Harbingers. All for good, supported, reason. But here, on top of his usual stony tone, grew flowers through the cracks of his demeanor, pollinated as you stroked him. His lips were so close… His shameless, sodden groans fall right into your ear. He was effortlessly always in control, knowing how susceptible you are to him.

“Don’t you want to tell me what to do, Master?” You wanted to punch him as he whined this into you, though not without defiance, his tongue shocking the helix of your ear, a trail of ice left behind. He wouldn’t dare allow himself to miss how your breath lurched in your throat.

You responded with a harsh enough pull on his cock to only remove your hand altogether, “You’re too good at this…” Not that you could mind too much. You pushed his chest in a way to urge him off of you, to which he easily obliged as you both switched places. His length pressed against his lower stomach as you sat over him to grind your pooled wetness along the underside.

“How long do you want to play pretend, darling?” You felt his hips gyrate up into you ever so slightly, “You clearly cannot get out of your mind, too busy wishing I was taking over it.”

You thought for a moment, wondering how you could catch him off guard… How you could make him lose himself, even for just a second. Your uncertainty was making it difficult, “How about…” You hesitantly removed yourself from him to retrieve a toy from your bedside drawer, laughing inwardly, almost nervously at his impending reaction.

He wouldn’t mind what you brought, his intrigue piqued as you revealed your futile efforts to best him in his own game. Your choosing a dildo could mean a few things in this situation… Did you want to fuck him? Was he to watch as you fucked yourself? He waited with bated breath, already missing your heat against him.

You returned to your position, a buzz of pleasure shooting through both of you at the continued contact. He’d do anything at this point, just wanting to see how far you’d go so he could obliterate you equally and more afterward.

After briefly taking it into your mouth, you dragged the wet tip along the center of his front, all the way up to his chin, “Would you suck cock for your master?”

A foreign feeling, not unlike pleasure, barrelled through him as he saw the look he was waiting for in your eyes, “You’re asking me?” Chills trickled through his body, all the way up through his nose as a pleased sigh.

“Be good for me… All you have to do is open your mouth…” You strung him along, though he was too turned on to care, parting his lips to allow you to slowly push into his mouth. He could feel your legs tensing on either side of him, your clit throbbing against his cock as he did so… This was so good.

“I wanna see your eyes.” You weren’t so much dominating him but rather he willingly entertained you by playing along, this is what he told himself anyway. Looking into your soul as his lips clung to the rubber so sweetly, his dextrous tongue working with more enthusiasm than you expected… You didn’t think he’d look so pretty doing this.

Once his spit generously coated the dildo, you dragged it from his mouth, depriving his twitching length of your sopping pussy as you sat between his opened legs. Opening your own, wide enough that he could see the lustrous stage you’d set. You easily slid the dildo, gleaming with his saliva, into your beckoning cunt as he was made to watch.

Well played, he thought… You looked so beautiful as your cunt clung to the dildo that was just in his mouth, your contorted face making it evident that you simply wanted to be filled… Your pace was slow with purpose as you imagined him fucking you like this… He wanted so badly to be inside you, to hear your abashed, small, voice call him dirty things. You swore you saw his cock jolt with impatience.

His right hand lunged unhurriedly towards his sex, but you swatted it away, “You’re only allowed to watch.”

His lovely voice shaped as a threatening laugh met your ears. Threatening as in he’d let your antics wrack up to be used against you at the right time. His eyes were forced to shade themselves as he looked down over his toned torso, watching you intently. The only way you would be able to dominate him would be by his own hand… or cock. You had so many opportunities to learn from his example, though your mind was probably checked out at that point.

His movements to resist your words ceased, watching as you increased the pace of your self-assault, glorious sounds of your wetness snapping into his ears. His lower lip tucked between his teeth, your left hand playing mindlessly at the soft skin of his upper thigh… He couldn’t help but feel the fault lines of his heart threaten to burst at the lovely sight before him. It felt like his gaze alone was propelling your hand, the tension was caustic and heavy.

You brought yourself to the edge of your release, movements shaky as you caged over him like he’d done to you before. You only had to bring the toy to his lips for him to gladly collect your sweet, his moans, deeper than the Chasm, almost infusing with it as he did. He loved how your eyes branded him as you watched… Maybe you were learning something after all… How to adeptly destroy him, one glance at a time.

Setting the dildo aside, at this point, you just wanted to kiss him. His lips were glossed with a brew of spit and cum, but that only made it more enticing. Like leaves brushing against each other in a gentle breeze, your lips found his. His whole body felt particularly sensitive, your nips at his lips almost a tickle as you teased him. That is, until he captured your face between his hands, lifting his head to press up into you. It felt like the kiss had been placed into a kiln, searing and intense as he was exposing how much he just needed to have you. His heart attached to yours like jumper cables, reinventing what yearning felt like as his tongue swam against yours, disregarding aesthetics and grace.

You both were only left more of a mess than before. As you parted, briefly a salty thread of combined spit, like a spider web, hung between your lips before snapping silently.

His hands pressed down along your curves as if shaping clay, pausing at your waist. Your arms were growing tired, and you couldn’t keep your mind off the gravitational pull of your throbbing cunt, knowing how his cock merely sat in wait. You wanted to lay on his chest… For some reason, his grin only grew.

“Was it worth it? Do you feel transformed, master?” He batted at you with his words like a cat playing with its prey, knowing it was his turn, whether you decided that or not.

“You did well, darling.” You commented in a voice that mocked his own, causing you both to laugh in unison for the second time. Your head dropped in a forfeit as he squeezed your sides.

“Making fun of me, now… I see.” He clicked his tongue, returning to the program that he would see through to the end, “Go stand by the stool in front of the mirror.” He ordered as his hands dropped in time with a sensation of excitement in your stomach, starting with his interpretation of this act.

You obeyed, the kinetic flow of wanting to please leading you to where he directed. You were made to observe your naked body, though distracted when he approached from behind and sat beside you on the stool, “I want you to lay over me, your pretty ass perked for me.”

He could see a familiar gleam in your eyes that sent him universal, knowing you were following his every word like footsteps in snow. Bridged over his legs, his right hand found your plump ass as if it were a magnet, caressing your supple skin. You knew what his intentions were, though, bracing for how and when he’d deliver his first blow.

“Do you truly think, darling… That you’d be able to overpower me without me letting you?”

Whatever your answer was, he wanted to feel the recoil regardless, “You’d just tell me your submission was ‘playing along’ even if I did.”

His hand lifted but a few inches to collide with your ass cheek, gathering your flesh in his hand like a duvet, “It’s against your nature...”

You reeled in how he assumed his harsh demeanor so effortlessly, “Do you think the other Harbingers know you’d clearly bow to my will under your guise of controlling the uncontrollable?”

This clap to your ass felt more personal, making you wince as a squeak snuck out of your throat, “I don’t give a single fuck about those insolent boors. I’d not admit your curiosity in them, though you know I’ll just hit you harder.” Your eyes locked on his own in the mirror as he had well already caught onto your antics.

“So it goes… Perhaps I do wonder about them.” You pushed the topic over the cliff, the punishment he’d give could only really be a reward.

He tried to not allow his heart to be swayed by your taunts, “You think they aren’t familiar with your pathetic moans coming from my office?”

“If they’re anything like you, that’d only intrigue them further, I would think…”

Smack.

This time you gave him a moan of rejoice, growing addicted to the sting, his hand falling over the crest of your ass to explore your cunt. Your wetness overflowed to coat your clit as it threatened to drip, loving his aggression.

“Hmm… I’ve barely grazed your desperate cunt until now, and it seems you’re trying to insinuate something foolish. Then tell me, my sweet, insatiable, darling, what or who is it that you want?” His middle and ring fingers pressed into your soaked, petal-like lips, coaxing you to answer.

You were debating… Should you weaponize another man’s name to provoke him… It feels like foul play, as you really had eyes for no other madman but himself, he knows this well. But what if…

“You’re always hanging around that opulent-looking one with glasses… Pantalone, was it?” You chose to improvise listlessly with war anyway.

He gritted his teeth, eyes diverting away from you for the first time. He knew you were just trying to play the cards you had, God, he knew. But something inside could not prevent the inherent, possessive tendencies from making some kind of appearance. Of all the Harbingers, of course you’d choose Pantalone as your mode of combat. He’s such a duplicitous excuse of a man.

His two fingers plunged into your hole, he watched as the muscles in your back tensed, feeling your front wriggle over his legs, “I see how he looks at you, darling. He is so acquainted with wealth, he’s used to having everything available to him… He sees you with me and knows his ability to be conscious of his own existence will be compromised if he even thinks about touching you.”

His hand retracted to instead give your weeping clit a generous slap, the wetness enhancing the sound, then sinking back into you. His lithe fingers felt so dizzying as they paced against your spongy walls, how could you think of anything but that?

“Really, I brought it up because the thought of them seeing you like this turned me on, not because I want to fuck them.”

“Invariably, if they somehow saw me like this, you’d be the only logical cause… Look in the mirror, look at yourself.” His free hand slid under your face to push your cheek in the mirror’s direction, “Who are you bent over so pitifully for right now? It almost sounds as if you’d like an audience…” He noted where your eyes were as you followed his roaming hand at your backside, “Tell me.” He demanded, swatting your ass once more. He couldn’t chain back the grin on his face, waiting to see which title you’d attempt to christen him with.

You weren’t about to give in to what he wanted most, your pure humiliation…, so you opted to at least repay him equally, “You, Zandik… Master.”

“Really…” His fingers returned to your sopping cunt, more so as a reminder rather than a means of pleasure, “I think you know what I want to hear… I’ll give you another chance.”

Your face cringed slightly, though that wasn’t enough to disguise the way your hole clenched around his stilled fingers at the thought, “Fuck…”

He hunched down to ensure his words were clear, “You brought this up… It was eating away at your mind so badly that you thought it was safe to bring it up to me? It’s at the tip of your little tongue, darling… Your face is such a tender shade of red…” His hand pumped slowly into you, as if to lure it out of you with his feigned compassion, “Tell me, pretty baby, whose fingers are inside you right now.”

Your eyes looked to the supposed heavens for a moment, “I hate you.”

He scoffed sharply, “That sounds more in character… You’d be such a contemptuous little brat for me…” He gathered your hair haphazardly, pulling your head upwards, somehow amplifying his ministrations, “Go on, who’s got you bent at his will.” His tone was low though infected with his shit-eating grin.

“Fine– You… Daddy.” Your voice had almost entirely checked out. You knew he wouldn’t let you leave this position until you did so.

He laughed a riot right into your ear, though hissed like the snake he is afterward at the sheer pleasure of winning, maintaining his pace, “You look as if you could hurl, darling, but I don’t think I’ve felt your cute cunt clench around me quite so hard… You’re dripping down my fingers, I ought to make you clean this mess up.”

You whined as he increased his pace, egging you on, “That’s right… So fucking tight…”

In actuality, he didn’t care much for the pet name but rather just your adorable embarrassment, so he decided he wasn’t convinced, “Why not embrace it a little more…” Getting you close to the edge, retreating his hand only to prod at your lips, “Why not taste your humiliation, since you hate calling me ‘daddy’ so much? Hmm?”

You were shivering as the denied orgasm left you high, though not so much dry, taking his slender fingers into your mouth. Your tongue weaved between them so as to clean them completely, his eyes sharp, jabbing into your face as he watched. That feeling again, as if an hourglass had been flipped, all the blood rushed to his core as he fucked your mouth with his hand. When he was satisfied with your work, he slowly dragged his soaked fingers along your back to trace back down. You shook at the chilling trail it left.

“Hmm,” There was an arrogant triumph to his voiced sigh, “So sensitive, too… It drives me crazy, darling.” He moved to grip your waist, urging you off of him, “I wonder… Would you suck cock for your master?” His words wagged their fingers in your ears as he adjusted you to sit on your heels before him.

“And you say I talk shit?” You ran your hands flush up his parted thighs, observing how cute his folded tummy looked as he sat, watching you. His faint happy trail, the glazed plains of his pale chest in contrast to his florid, angular face. For a moment, he said not a word, realizing how desperately he required your touch, in any capacity. His cock leaned heavily to the side, as if in its last attempt of an exhausted taunt for your lips. Your hands closed in on him, his eyes fluttering as they gently pulled at his flushed length.

“I love it when you moan for me…” You mentioned as an aside before taking his swollen tip between your velveteen lips. His head fell back, and a groan, like a smoke ring, hovered to the ceiling.

His fingertips pushed their way through your hair, though with no other intent but seemingly to distract himself from losing himself too soon. He played with your hair almost domestically, petting you along as you took as much of his throbbing cock as you could. You could tell he so badly wanted to buck into your mouth, your hands gripping him at the pivot of his thighs and hips as he writhed… You wished he’d let you in on this kind of raw desperation more often, as this version of him played in your mind so sweetly.

“Such a good girl for me, fuck.” He’d never called you that before, but the sensation it conveyed in your brain felt as if your soul had fallen out of the window of your body. He had you where you couldn’t refute it, making you swallow that, too, without resistance, “I knew you’d like that…” He laughed wickedly despite his exasperated state, and it felt so good, “My good girl…” He almost sang it down to you the second time, making your chest waver, coasting your hands upwards against his tense torso. He untangled his hands from your hair, easily blanketing yours against his waist, effectively lulled by the lush of your touch.

His fingertips dragged down the stretch of your arms, over the horizon of your shoulders to round back to your face, causing you to pause in wait. Your eyes lazily gravitated up to his own, his face was tipped as he peered over his nose in his lecherous way, “Come here, darling, where you belong…”

Upon your standing, he twisted you around between his hands to face away from him, then pulled down at your hips to finally lower your pliant, sobbing cunt onto him. The friction of his firm chest against your back alone was tantalizing enough, his hot breath steaming your skin from behind making your body slack in his grasp. A hand left your side, gripping his length to align himself. The initial pleasure of his tip making contact with the magma that was your arousal against him was suffocating, your eyes heavy with refined lust, though you couldn’t tear them away. He lowered you onto his cock at a meticulous speed, so dreadfully slow, you swear you could feel his pulse. His groan of contagious desire shot through your spine as you watched him disappear inside you as he left you to sit completely full of him for his own amusement.

“Look at you, pretty darling, how you like to watch yourself take my cock so beautifully.” His wet lips played on your shoulder blade to leaf between his words, “How I wish this very image were branded into my mind…” Moving towards the crook of your neck, your head inadvertently swayed to the side to allow access, his hands forcing your hips to grind in his lap. His teeth brushed over the sensitive base of your neck, your shoulders raising as he teased your skin. You felt as if you were losing your grip on a certain aspect of consciousness, the way his thick length stirred inside you, brushing and shocking every nerve.

“Keep moving just like that…” He instructed in a whisper as his hands left to tend to your breasts, adding yet another layer of dizziness as he pinched and kneaded. He loved the way the soft skin of your ass brushed against his inner thighs, your cunt tied and bowed around his shaft so perfectly. He’d pause at your neck here and there to peek at your face, a delirious focus on maintaining your movements… Your precious sounds that now flowed shamelessly from your lips, he truly could never get enough of you.

You tried to lift yourself, needing to be properly rearranged from the inside out, but he halted your attempt, unraveling a whine, “I know, I know… My good girl has been working so hard…” His eyes fixated on how your slick literally overflowed, trickling down to his balls in a lewd stream. How you squeezed around him upon that name… It was too much for him to bear, “You really do like that, huh darling?”

“Mmhm…,” is all you could manage, your thighs twitching impatiently, an indescribable feeling winding up your body, “God, please just let me move.”

“I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, you sorry little thing.” He guided you to lift, your vision flickering at the sheer strength of the awaited friction, “Tell me more… How much do you want me to fucking destroy you?”

You gave in to his game, unable to resist, “So badly, Zandik, please.”

Finally, your hole just barely reached the precipice of his raging cock, holding you there, “I could make you cum just like this, giving you only what you barely need as you wished I’d fuck you right– Please what?”

“Fuck… Please, please fuck me, I need your cock… Please.” You squirmed as your voice was hoarse and almost unfamiliar to even yourself as you pleaded.

He slammed you down onto him easily, given how soaked you were, hardly able to wait himself, “When you’re this wet, I would think my cock is the only thing you need.” He talked both you and himself into oblivion, sticky slick between both his and your thighs accentuating the frantic collision of your bodies. His fingers were soldered to your waist, gripping you as he moved your body at his pace, watching as your breasts flailed rhythmically in his thrusts’ wake. He wished there was a way to consume the buttery noises you were making on top of him as his own bled into them.

You adored how his lips hung open, how his brows tensed upward as he exhibited both complete focus and abandonment, his mind devoted only to the way he fucked you in this moment. You found him infuriatingly handsome as it is, but to see him so breathless, his vast vocabulary reduced to exclusively vile taunts, he was utterly ethereal like this.

His lips curled up as you eyed him so intensely, forcing you off of him, the sudden vacancy in your cunt making you want to scream. He stood behind you, feeling up your front as he did so, “I can’t describe the feeling I get when you look at me like that, darling…” He turned you to face him, hastily stealing your lips for a kiss that dug into your chest like his nails did your back as he searched your skin hungrily.

Upon stopping, he moved to hold your chin in place, your face displayed in his hand like a gemstone gleaming in the prongs of a ring. His swollen lips were still close, his crimson eyes had a glow to them, almost, cascading a dense shadow of need over your features, “However I may call you, you will most importantly, always, be mine. …And I hope… I will always be yours, darling.”

#il dottore x fem!reader #il dottore x reader #il dottore smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #作文

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littlemissthunderstorms · 10 months

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gorgeous

alex turner x fem reader

i don’t really know how to summarize it, so just read and find out!! it’ll be a fun little surprise! (also i quoted a line from better than the movies in here, i just finished that book and i LOVED it so dearly)

i couldn’t choose just one song 😣

late afternoon was dull. rain poured outside and the sky was grey, adding to the melancholy of the day. as you sit on the couch next to your best friend alex, you couldn’t help but stare at the rain pattering against the window, trying to distract yourself from your thoughts. you had just recently broken up with your boyfriend, you realized he wasn’t the one and it made you sad. it was easy to let your thoughts spiral, you wondered if you’d ever find your person, if anyone would ever love you that much. could you be loved? you didn’t want to be lonely forever and then become an old lady living alone with her fifty cats in an old apartment. would you die alone? oh my god and then who would even take care of the cats? would anyone even know you died? what if- “ahem.” you jumped slightly, raising your eyebrows at alex who was looking at you with a funny expression, accompanied by a head tilt.

“soo movie or no?” alex chuckled. “you ruined my train of thought.” you smiled as you kicked him playfully. alex had always been your best friend, you had always been there for eachother and this was no different. he’d been hanging out at your house practically the second your boyfriend had moved out and you didn’t mind at all. alex laughed softly, brown eyes not leaving yours. as you gazed at the boy, your smile faded into a frown, your earlier thoughts returning to haunt you. alex noticed this, furrowing his brows. “you alright?” you hadn’t really allowed yourself to overthink too much since your boyfriend left, and now that you had really thought about being alone, it destroyed you. anxiety plagued you, filling you only with distress and thoughts of loneliness.

“i dunno.” you shifted your gaze to your lap, fiddling with your rings. “you wanna talk about it?” alex shuffled closer to you on the couch. you shrugged, eyes still fixated on your lap, averting his gaze. “is it about him?” you noticed how close alex was, causing your heart to race a little faster. “um- no.” you paused. “well, yes, related. i mean, it’s not exactly about him, like the fact that i miss him or anything. which i dont. not really. that seems kinda mean, but it’s true.”

you looked up at alex nervously to find him looking back at you, silently urging you to continue talking. “its just- i’m nervous i’ll never find anyone. sounds fucking stupid now that i’m saying it aloud but um..” you gulped nervously. alex eyes were soft and caring and the effect he had on you right now was concerning. nevertheless, you continued.“i’m scared to be alone forever, i just want to love someone and be loved. and i’m so scared thats not going to happen and i’m scared nobody will ever find me pretty enough to love me. i dont know.” you weren’t even thinking now, the storm of anxiety that occupied your mind now letting loose. “i’m just nervous i guess. i dunno, its silly.” you sighed “maybe i’m just overthinking.”

you kept your gaze on your lap as you finished your rant, too flustered to look at alex. he was close. really close. why was your stomach all swirly? the thunder outside filled the silence for a few moments. alex grabbed your hand, causing you to meet his eyes. “hey. don’t think like that. you’re gorgeous.” the way alex was talking to you, the way he was looking at you, soft brown eyes shimmering in the candlelight, all smiley and sweet. it was getting hard to breathe. you were so distracted by him that you forgot to respond. “thank you.” you muttered pathetically, making him chuckle softly, hand not leaving yours. the house was quiet besides the muffled sound of thunder and rain from the nasty storm outside that was getting more intense by the minute. candles and lamps emitted a soft glow throughout the room, casting faint shadows on the walls.

the way he was looking at you made your heart flutter. your eyes darted down to his lips for a split second before quickly looking back up at his eyes. shit. don’t look at his lips don’t look at his lips. the tension was so thick you were sure lightning was bound to strike between you two any second. the house was too quiet. was he getting closer? you nervously broke eye contact for a split second, your stomach fluttering as you looked back at him. he didn’t move, eyes still locked on yours. your face heated. “um- so what movie did you wanna wat-“you didn’t even finish your sentence before his lips were all over yours, nose pressed into your cheek and hand cupping your face. he kissed you like it was his job and he wanted a raise. you eagerly kissed him back, squeezing his hand tightly as you brought your other hand up to rest on his shoulder. he leaned over you, gently pressing you against the arm of the couch as he kissed the shit out of you. you brought your free hand to grab ahold of his hair, deepening the kiss which elicited a sigh out of him.

the intensity of the kiss increased as a strike of lightning illuminated the sky for a few moments, a loud boom of thunder following, rumbling the ground. you pushed your hand up his shirt, his skin warm. his tongue slid across yours. his hands were in your hair. your leg was wrapped around his waist as the kiss deepened, teeth colliding and soft sighs filling the air. another rumble of thunder shook the ground and just like that, the lights were out. you broke the kiss, the two of you gasping for air. the room was dark, almost pitch black.

and if it weren’t for the soft light of the streetlamps, the glow of the candle in the other room, or the incandescent moonlight, you might’ve not been able to see alex smiling down at you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

hope this made you giggle and kick your feet, goodnight!

ps. this is like my third time writing anything ever so if it’s bad don’t come for me

#Spotify #alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #humbug #suck it and see #alex turner one shot #alex turner fluff

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strangelittlestories · 2 months

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Ever since I rose from the pseudo-dead to find Britain in its time of direst need, I have found myself prone to occasional fits of melancholy.

(Not that I’m bitter. Oh no. I’m thrilled to find myself alone, barring the company of a sentient oversized steak knife, subbing for dear-old-daddy Arthur’s destiny.)

These occasional funks are perhaps to be expected. After all, the experience of being a spirit subsumed by the earth was a dreamlike and peaceful quasi-non-existence. Don’t get me wrong, I kept myself informed of all your drama … but when you’re getting your news by slowly subsuming the brains and bones of the deceased, it kinda comes one step removed.

It was *nice* to have that emotional disconnect. To have a bit of a buffer from the trials and tribulations of inhabiting an organic body with screaming nerves and chemicals rushing about to yell about *feelings*.

Even in the information age - when phone lines and broadband cables began dumping data into the earth - it was a pleasant phantasmagoria of media and gossip.

So waking up in a fresh flesh form, with all that messy live-streamed molecular input … it was a bit of a rollercoaster to readjust. And, if I’m being honest, I don’t think I ever really got a handle on it the first time.

So … yeah, it came with these intense bouts of listless sadness. They felt like, I dunno, like you wandered into a thick fog, but it’s not really fog. It’s a bruise on the face of reality, all purple and yellow and blotchy and sore … and you’re in the middle of it.

And, sure, that feeling is probably par for the course. The surprising bit - and I blame all the memelords I absorbed through the wires for this - is that when I’m feeling this way, I get weirdly *punny*.

Like, the other day, I was thinking about how annoying it is to be stuck with Excalibur, right? This asshole - aside from being remarkably talkative for a shined-up chunk of ore - is a constant reminder of all the family baggage.

And I was thinking:,isn’t it funny that my dad’s ex-girlfriend, a powerful fae and spirit of literal destiny, gifted him a sword called Excalibur.

As if to say to his future partners: I got him a whole-ass magic sword that proclaimed his fate as the one king to rule them all. That’s the ‘calibre’ of ‘ex’ that you’re dealing with, so suck it Guinevere.

(Get it? Ex-calibre?)

Then I wondered: what if dad only dated the Lady for the magic sword?

I guess that’s human men for you. They only want one thing. They’re always just trying to get blade.

…and, inexplicably, wordplay like this makes me feel *better*. And not, y’know, like a monster of the highest order (which, let us not forget, a lot of people think I am).

Wild.

#writing #microfiction #flash fiction #short story #puns #feghoot #more mordred fic #ma boi mordred #arthuriana

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kozykricket · 5 months

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funny thing i thought about baba is you

funny thing, i actually... when baba is you came out, i heard about it, and then when i saw its trailer for the switch i was like. oh wow cool puzzle game, really interesting. oh huh this probably has a deep metanarrative or some otherwise existential story and like. No. there. isnt a story. its just puzzles that isnt a bad thing, its a great puzzle game and not every game needs a story i just find it really funny that i thought BABA IS YOU OF ALL GAMES would have an existential story but the part at the end where its like "all is empty" made me think like. oh haha the games gonna like occasionally plop in some really strange worldbending stuff and. we will be questioning who YOU really is and who BABA really is. or what its like to be in a gamey world where the rules of the universe can change at any time. or tbh i guess kris deltarune is kinda just what i thought baba is you would be about, but i feel like theres still a way to like. think up an existential version of baba is you where the whole Thing isnt "baba is different from you" rather just. spooks about... a world being corrupted by messing with the rules so much? ship of theseus type stuff where its like, when something changes so many times, is it even the original? you could go into like, cloning. i want to see a game with a cloning powerup where it actually is used and then you start wondering "wait. am i even the original?" i dunno, theres other ways i think it could work... but just. an EMPTY VOID remaining when ALL is EMPTY is . so freaking ominous??? maybe "what really IS baba even. what does it mean to have free wi- oh wait the free will is just what deltarunes deconstructing again huh.

#baba is you

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steffigraf · 3 months

Text

warning for a clearly anxiety-ridden oversharing freakout below the cut. sorry. i’m too sensitive and i’m unfortunately acutely aware of it.

tldr; im being a drama queen. gonna take a tumblr break for a week or two. to my mutuals, feel free to dm for my insta. i’ll be active until i wake up tomorrow morning and then i’m gonna zip

gonna preface this by saying this is in no way directed to the people whom i actually talk to constantly on here like you lot were lovely and im just dealing with a lot of demons in my head :(

anyway. sometimes i feel more like a product manufacturer than a person on here. and idk. i know most of you guys are really just following me for gifs and content and whatever but. yeah. idk. i guess the things i say don’t matter to anyone unless it’s funny. or if people want to call me out. not that im mad abt that exactly btw i do appreciate when people respectfully call me out for my own mistakes but. sometimes. i feel like im in a fishbowl and you’re all just waiting for me to say something wrong and cancel me. or then again, maybe most of you already think im a shit person and you just stay for the gifs. or maybe you guys think i’m a loser who has nothing to do but spend all day on this goddamn website.

and i know, somewhere inside me, that that’s not true and that it’s clearly the anxiety talking. maybe it’s just me maybe i’m making this up in my head i dunno. but i’m just kinda tired right now. too tired to battle the anxiety like usual at least. and i don’t really feel wanted outside of the content i produce, beyond the notes of my gifs or my fun posts. which ik shouldn’t matter but. i’m a pathological people pleaser etc etc.

(god, seeing this all typed out, i can’t even fucking blame you guys if you actly don’t like me cause. i kinda wanna shake myself by the shoulders and tell myself get a grip girl the world doesn’t revolve around you shut up shut up shut your damn mouth—)

i’ve been trying to manage by unfollowing and blocking a few people (which btw, if i did that to you and we used to be mutuals, it’s probably nothing personal i mostly just kept people i’m a bit closer to). but i’m still not really settled. and considering how i’m posting like every other day about feeling like shit, you guys probably figured that out lmao.

and well. on a separate note. seeing that rat’s name alone is too much for me sometimes. i couldn’t watch his game with carlos. i spent hours in his match with daniil turned away from the television, wearing noise canceling headphones while trying (and failing) to talk myself down from a full blown anxiety attack. i’ve said this before but the way people talk about him, both the fucked up silence and the justified outrage, it reminds me way too much about a family problem i have right now. hits uncomfortably close to home. prior to this i kinda thought i’d made my peace with the whole family situation but no apparently not. had he won the semis, i wasn’t even sure if i would be able to stomach cheering for jannik if it meant having to watch that man play.

so. idk. between the way actual tennis has been making me feel and the way tennisblr in general has seemed for me lately, i figure i need some space.

long story short ive been spending way too much time on tumblr this ao. and its gotten really bad for my mental health i guess. so i think i need to take maybe a week or two, to clear my head. watch tennis without opening this app every other point. spend time with people i love. get back to therapy. try to be a functioning adult.

(this is so fucking dramatic for a goddamn week of no tumblr i know that and i want to smack myself upside the head because why am i like this why do i make things snowball why why why—)

anyway. yeah. that’s it. if you actually read through all of that then. thanks. if not it’s okay too.

to my mutuals, the ones whom i’ve had at least some form of friendly interaction with in replies or dms, you can ask for my insta account btw. not that i’m crazy active on there but like. if you guys wanna be friends beyond the anonymity of this yknow. no pressure though.

#sorry to get all sad again #been editing this on my drafts all day #ive not been in a good headspace lately #*

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kendrixtermina · 4 months

Text

Giving Doctor Who a New Chance, Part 3: The Giggle

It's nice that they're bringing back some classic villain, but I really wish they had the Toymaker butcher some other language. The gag is just not funny at all when you actually speak German

Ok, that's an illustrative montage of a mightyfine chaos

IDK what I think of this - set it up in a way that it can be reset again.

oooh, Mel is back! As a 6th Doctor fan, I appreciate this. Did not expect that. She still got that perky way of talking.

Having seen the eps he was in, slipping over a bottle of Vodka is exactly like Sabalon Glitz would die, but hey, at least he lived to a ripe old age.

Donna just landed herself a new job. I guess there's that duality in human's fluctuating confidence levels again cause she glibly asks for double but looks ecstatic that it worked

so, Donna doesn't remember in detail, but she got a rough glimpse

the guy playing the Toymaker IS pulling off the creepy clown act pretty well tho

I really liked that scene between Donna & the Doctor in the infinite cabinet with the Doctor re-evaluating his life choices.

That's another thing that's been missing, that fucking Chibnall didn't get - that the point of him, at the end of the day, is that he's just some guy. Somewhat wiser & tougher than a human, maybe, but still fundamentally just dude with wits & confidence. A trickster, a flawed person trying to do the right thing that through trickery ended up with this fearsome reputation. I used to think of RTD not getting it as much as Moffat did cause he did like overly savior-archetype-like plots sometimes whereas moffat emphasized the 'just a madman with a box' angle, but RTD gets it in this scene where we see the Doctor cringing at his past self for things he couldn't have foreseen & now he doesn't know what to do in a world that doesn't follow predictable rules

Because that's what they don't tell you about getting smarter, wiser or even just older - the price you pay for knowing better today is cringing at the awareness you used to lack. thats very real. you end up thinking you should somehow have known or done better even if you couldnt have.

there's certainly some thematic rhyming with the 'narrowmindedness-plague' afflicting the earth

Donna's dad is actually right. Good for him to be wary of the Hot Hand fallacy and its ilk. Missed a chance for an epic nerd reference

I dunno what to think about the concept of 'shift to fantasy', i wouldnt have done that & really turned more to harder & concept fanfiction, but i suppose it keeps thinks fresh without being repetitive (they cant keep destroying and un-destroying gallifrey all the time...) & the show has always been the very softest of sci-fi anyway - at leasts its set up in a way that it can be reset again or let future writers pick whatever they want. though i suppose it depends on how its done like, if possible without wholly throwing out humanist values. You can absolutely be a trickster in a fantasy story or fight crazy things with logic; Infinity train did it to great effect. I mean, the classics had far wonkier stuff like actual Vampires & whatnot.

i appreciate Donna rhyming while defeating the puppet

"jingsaw out of your history" thing imply that the timeless child thing was an in-universe retcon of sorts? Oh please. I mean I could kinda sorta accept 13 is she literally wasn't really the same character.

between this & the last episode it's pretty close anyway to the "every single backstory is true because of timey wimey ball" thing from the expanded universe fixed, on-screen canon. That I could live with. It's potentially deeply interesting that by virtue of getting tangled up in all the timelines the Doctor has in some ways been to many possible futures & possible versions of reality.

Former companions werent affected by the giggle thing cause it was a retroactive change made by the toymaker upon getting free

It's kinda sad that we'll never get to see the battle between the Master and the Toymaker because that must really have been something. Like two Jokers or Phantoms of the Opera fighting.

this is like when Q showed up on the bridge of the enterprise. Only much deadlier. I appreciate that the scene never stops feeling actually menacing.

I like how Mel also comes in to hold his hand, too, she's for realsies. (I guess this is how she makes up for making him drink all that carrot juice)

The "Alons-y" is a niftly little contrast/ bookend with 10s exit

My headcanon is that bi-generation absolutely WAS a myth, but that this is an extension of the whole breach in the logic/edge of reality storyarc being set up here, or really just the Toymaker thinking it would be fun to double them infinitely

I like how the Doctor mocks the Toymaker's fake accent with 'the ball' thing

The advantage with the ball game is, of course, that Fifteen has already seen it. He's fabulous alright.

I appreciate how they climb on each other at some point

I don't envy Kate, watching this absurd thing... humanity already got somewhat good at taking Sci-Fi threats on their own, but this they don't have context for. Maybe UNIT is gonna need a vault of magical artifacts now. I suppose you can play with that for a few seasons. Like how a contrast of fantasy & sci-fi elements worked in Madoka.

I like how Donna is casually putting her arm around 15

I guess 15 has reached that point where rather than cringe at your younger self you're able to have compassion. That's a good arc, actually.

aaand of course there's the obligatory sequel hook for the Master's return, to the surprise of no one

I like how the years with the lost memory weren't completely lost but Donna still learned something from them that allows her to send this message now

Soo Fifteen is basically taking advantage of the cartoon logic still being in effect until the end of the episode to duplicate the TARDIS. I bet it only worked because he picked the silliest possible hammer.

I appreciate how 15 makes sure to get one last Donna hug.

I do like that it kinda came down to self-love, self-compassion & knowing when to take a restorative break & all that. That's an important message these days.

So, the Nobles just deadass adopted the Doctor & Mel. Makes all the sense.

I always thought of Mel & the Doctor's dynamic as sibling-like (as opposed to Peri & the Doctor having a 'tsundere couple' energy & Ace who of course had a teacher/student thing), so I feel vindicated.

Also I appreciate how an older woman who didn't have kids but spent her life traveling & adventuring & doing what she wanted, & then ended up feeling a bit lonely because of it here simply ends up not lonely by finding friends / found family. Cause that's the fucking annoying gotcha they always hurl at you "Oh if you don't have kids & live the life you want you'll be lonely!" As if you can't have friends. Also, plenty of ppl who do have kids wind up lonely because the kids end up hating them.

I'm all for the Doctor catching a break. Very touching, honestly. & he's like actually a point where he wouldn't just run off & get side-tracked or brood on the inevitability of its end. (like he would have when spent those years with River)

Also sets an interesting background for 15 of course, as he'll be coming out of it 'fully rested', in a sense.

So, yeah, I do think I'm looking forward to what 15 will get up to. It was sort of a great way to introduce him in such a way that ppl will instantly like him for how he comforts his past self here.

It's also probably the ideal ending for Donna, cause, much like Rose & Clara she wanted to stay forever, & maybe now that she has a daughter & other responsibilities she won't want the big danger all the time, but the Unit Job & living with the Doctor in a house? That's prolly what she would have wanted.

(I wonder if they'll end up running into Martha & Mickey at her job, since Donna & Martha were buds that time they met. )

#doctor who #fourteenth doctor #fifteenth doctor #donna noble #melanie bush

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feiandart · 19 days

Note

Hi Fei, not sure if this message becomes public or not but I couldn't find any other way to contact you. Just wanted to apologise for my comment on chapter 35. I realise in retrospect it might have seemed rude, I was trying to be funny. So, I'm very sorry, and I don't want you to think I didn't enjoy the chapter. I have deleted the comment. If I may take this chance as well, you have been an inspiration to me, I love your writing. I am too an aspiring writer that took a sabbatical for many years, though my self doubt is my biggest saboteur right now. I would love to know how you honed your craft, your words are so beautifully written. I look forward to the next chapter ♥

First of all, hello and thank you for reaching out to me! ♥

I'm afraid my memory doesn't work properly (it never does, sadly), but I'm pretty sure no comment made me think "oh, that was rude", so don't worry at all ♥ Gonna admit now I'm curious 'bout what that was owo But I will not ask for you to share that again if it makes you feel uncomfortable!

Your words means a lot to me! ♥ I had inspiration issues for half of my life. I was around fifteen when I wrote my last paragraph, and after that I didn't for other fifteen years. Honest to God, Good Omens and its community saved me in more than a way when I was at my lowest - helped me both with coming back at writing, and starting drawing for myself. I startend enjoying things again. And I needed that. So, since finding inspiration again was so meaningful to me, being able to inspire others is like I achieved something so big I can't really find words to express it properly. It makes me feel kinda... Oh, dunno. I guess we can go with: blessed. Finding inspiration was (and is) an healing process to me. And I hope it'll be the same to others. So if it came to me, I can only be SO glad to know!! So thank you so much for sharing this!! ♥

Let me tell you this: I am my biggest saboteur myself. So I do understand what you say, and I can guess what you feel right now. My suggestion is something practical. Go in front of the mirror, tell yourself what you want to do and look straight into your eyes. Then, say: "I will do it. And you will NOT stop me." Then say the same to all the people who might go against you. Nobody, not even yourself, should have the power to stop you from doing the things you love. It may be hard at the very start, troublesome meanwhile, but I can assure you nothing's better than being able to live your dreams. All I can do for you now is assuring you I am on your side! And I am sure you can do whatever makes you feel happy.

Last, but not least (dear Lord I wrote so much and I'm not done yet.......), your last question. Funny thing to answer that one, actually. 'cause I never practiced. I never studied a way to arrange phrases and words, actually right now I'm always a bit overwhelmed anytime I sit myself in front of the screen and open my file to start writing. I'll tell you, I'm the messiest people in the entire universe. I had all the plot already written back in november, but yet my characters slip off my hands and do whatever they want. Does it makes any sense to you? I have to costantly re-arrange my plot to make sure everything have some kind of logic. The rest come from my own mind. Sugar, specifically, means a lot to me under a lot of different aspects. Both characters holds part of myself, my own traumas, my own experiences, my own mazes and struggles. I think maybe sometimes things went when I didn't want them to go 'cause my mind played dirty on me and I was unable to stop it. But I don't complain. So I'm afraid I don't have a real answer but this one: I just put myself into every single word I write. I play all the scenes in my mind just like watching movies. I feel what my characters does and, I will not deny this, oftern I cry while doing that too. I'm a bit too much emphatic, perhaps?

Gonna admit, writing Sugar is exactly like going to therapy to me. Goes just along with that, it helps me process myself, my own emotions, helps me validate anything bad I've ever felt.

Well uh, I got pretty carried away with this answer but I hope you can find something helpful around all of these messy words of mine ♥ (And sorry for my poor english if I made some mistake here and there, I fully believe in honest-to-God messages when it comes to answer people, both in comments, chat or anywhere else, so I never actually go back trying to correct my messages. Dunno, it feels like leaving you all full access to my stream of consciousness everytime I give answers like these. Not sure this makes sense. To me it does.)

Don't ever ever be afraid to tell me what you think or reach out! I'll always be here, happy to give you an answer. Thank you so much! ♥

#fei loves to reply #so feel free to ask anytime you want #sugar #writing #fic writing

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real-jaune-isms · 1 year

Conversation

By Any Other Name

Usopp: Hmmm... well I don't know...

Zoro: The hell are you doing staring at our wanted posters?

Usopp: Just trying to get some creativity flowing. We get these nicknames and epithets from the Marines or other folks we cross, but some of them just don't feel right, you know what I mean?

Zoro: I guess I do, yeah. I've been a pirate longer than I was a bounty hunter, and they still call me 'Pirate Hunter' Zoro.

Usopp: Right. And I like the authority to it, but it puts way too much attention on my poor head to call me God Usopp.

Zoro: Hmph~ So you're trying to think of better names in the hopes we can start getting the word out ourselves and pray it catches on?

Usopp: Exactly! Want to help?

Zoro: Eh, why the hell not? So we start with Luffy?

Usopp: We would, but if we changed his from Straw Hat Luffy then we'd need to worry about changing our whole crew identity and symbol. What would it even be changed to?

Zoro: I dunno... 'Rubberman' Luffy? He's got that new form that's white hot like the sun or something, but the Sun pirates are already taken. 'Sun God' Luffy would be way too grand for him anyway.

Usopp: Yeah I think that one is best left alone. What about you? If 'Pirate Hunter' is out, what do you want the headlines to call you? 'Three Sword' Zoro?

Zoro: Yeah that seems pretty dead on. Might be getting a little ahead of myself, but pretty soon it'll be 'World's Strongest Swordsman' Zoro.

Usopp: *rolls his eyes* Riiiight. I'm sure Sanji would say you deserve 'Mosshead' Zoro or something like that.

Zoro: I bet he would, and I'd be all too happy to tell people he goes by 'Pervert Cook' Sanji. He might actually prefer it to his crappy family name though...

Usopp: Yeah. 'Black Leg' Sanji isn't too bad, but he's been doing his whole flaming legs thing for so long, I feel like that should get the attention now.

Zoro: Then he's 'Flame Leg' now, easy.

Usopp: Alright smarty swords, if it's so effortless then you come up with the rest of them. How about Nami?

Zoro: 'Thunder Witch'.

Usopp: Me?

Zoro: 'Sniper King', embrace the old persona now that you've proven you have the skills.

Usopp: Wow! That's actually really gratifying, thank you. Alright, Chopper.

Zoro: 'Monster Doctor'.

Usopp: Ah, points out both of his strong suits, I like it. Robin?

Zoro: Hmph. 'Bookworm'~

Usopp: Are you kidding me? With everything she can do, you'd give her a nickname for how much she reads??

Zoro: Ugh... 'Flower of Knowledge' then?

Usopp: That sounds like something Sanji might call her, not exactly intimidating to the rest of the world.

Zoro: Fine. 'Demon of the Void Century'.

Usopp: Ooh, now that's a good one. Franky?

Zoro: 'Walking Battleship'.

Usopp: Nice, sounds powerful. Brook?

Zoro: 'Bonesman' would be too on the nose, huh?

Usopp: Not that he has a nose, yohohoho~ ...Sorry, I couldn't resist doing a little impression. But nah, funny as it is, it's probably not a good name for the wanted posters.

Zoro: I dunno then, 'Soul King' is a good name on its own, maybe 'Rattling Swordsman'?

Usopp: Yeah, that could work if we needed an alternative. What about Jinbei? 'Knight of the Sea' and 'First Son of the Sea' are pretty damn good epithets.

Zoro: They are. Maybe 'Tide of Liberation' or something.

Usopp: That's pretty poetic, I like it. Alright, guess I'm satisfied, thanks for the help, Zoro!

*he gets up and leaves*

Zoro: *picking up Robin's poster with a half smile* Heh... maybe I should call her bookworm, it's kinda cute for her. Better than 'Demon Child'... that one sure as hell doesn't fit her beauty. Really, she's more of an angel... 'Brilliant Angel' Nico Robin.

Robin: Consider me swooning, 'Stunning Samurai' Roronoa Zoro~

Zoro: The hell?? How long have you been standing there?

Robin: Since 'Thunder Witch'. *closes the door to the room* Now let's have a little talk about what you like calling me~...

#one piece #one piece anime spoilers #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #nami #one piece nami #usopp #vinsmoke sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky #cyborg franky #brook #soul king brook #jinbe #the crew could use new nicknames #zorobin #zoro x robin #you know I can't resist

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pesterloglog · 4 months

Text

Dave Strider, Dirk Strider

Act 6, page 7748-7756

DAVE: ok actually maybe i will get into it

DAVE: i dunno why my friends got to have adults around who cared about them

DAVE: they complained bitterly about stuff so i guess i convinced myself they were all in the same boat as me

DAVE: but thats not how it was

DAVE: their complaints were trumped up nonsense and i bought it cause... i dunno

DAVE: i didnt have any frame of reference

DAVE: but his dad and her mom no matter what they said it was so obvious they cared about them deeply

DAVE: even jades weird fuckin grandpa who died when she was young obviously would have done anything for her

DAVE: why did i get such a raw cut of the asshole deck

DAVE: and why did it take me so long to figure that out

DAVE: and like hes dead now so thats that

DAVE: so all thats left to do is look back and try to put the pieces together of my first 13 years

DAVE: and all i can think is what the fuck WAS that?!

DAVE: i dont come away with the impression i used to try convincing myself of, that he was like "mysterious" or "stern" or "aloof"

DAVE: the only feeling left is this insane impression that i was raised by somebody who fuckin HATED me

DAVE: and the whole act of even "raising a child" was some totally fucked up game to him

DAVE: like parenthood was one of the highest tiers of irony in his solemn bullshit bro-ninja code

DAVE: so he went through those motions and did whatever he thought was "funny" or "badass"

DAVE: but under that weird stylistic and totally sociopathic approach to parenting i cant even IMAGINE there was any emotion toward me other than some sort of loathing

DIRK: What...

DIRK: Did he do?

DAVE: i dont want to get out the laundry list

DAVE: but for reference laundry wasnt one of those things

DAVE: that was just one of the many little domestic things i just had to sort of FIGURE OUT

DAVE: sorta like i eventually had to learn what the REAL purpose of a refridgerator was from movies

DIRK: Wait.

DIRK: What??

DAVE: i dunno theres too much to even get into

DAVE: just

DAVE: i dont remember the atmosphere ever not being nerve wracking

DAVE: all havin to sneak around and...

DAVE: ugh my shitty childhood spider senses are tinglin just thinking about it

DAVE: it was "training" you know

DAVE: but you know what it really was it was some vicious shit that was bad and sucked and i hated it

DAVE: it didnt make me stronger

DAVE: it did the opposite

DAVE: it made me never want to fight

DAVE: it made me never want to see blood or be near danger or hear metal sounds

DAVE: it made me hate the idea of being a hero cause he was a hero and he ruined the idea of heroism

DAVE: i dont even want to be fighting this shitty version of jack but hey nobody else has secret welsh powers so i guess i have to

DIRK: ...

DAVE: what gets me is how long it took me to put all this together

DAVE: to stop seeing it as some kinda roughhousey and eccentric life i had but was otherwise normal

DAVE: it took years to deconstruct it all and put it back together to understand how fuckin mad i should be

DAVE: and in particular how stone cold deeply uncared for i was my whole life

DAVE: like... being merely "monitored" by a violent robot

DAVE: i only started getting it after spending a lot of time in person with a bunch of people who actually did care about me

DAVE: and i could start feeling like

DAVE: actually somewhat human for the first time

DAVE: instead of...

DAVE: some sort of runty afterthought to a household cabal of smutty puppets

DIRK: ... Puppets?

DAVE: the fuckin puppets!!!

DAVE: i know how it sounds but i am NOT joking and there is NO shred of doubt in my mind that he loved all those puppets more than me

DAVE: honestly it is very possible that he was just insane and thats that

DAVE: i guess it didnt help either that we lived with what we have come to understand may theoretically be the most evil doll to exist in any universe ever

DAVE: in fact its my tenuous understanding that he came down to earth with that thing and like actually grew up with it

DAVE: maybe...

DAVE: maybe spending 30 some years being unseparable from that hell puppet had some effect on him??

DAVE: maybe if it hadnt been casting a pall over our apartment 24/7 since he took me in...

DAVE: grinning...

DAVE: glaring...

DAVE: laughing in my sleep...

DAVE: maybe our lives wouldnt have been quite so...

DAVE: maybe we would have...

DAVE: ugh

DIRK: What?

DIRK: You ok there?

DAVE: .....

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: That doll.

DIRK: That was Cal, right?

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: Right.

DIRK: My version is "empty", apparently.

DIRK: Whatever that means.

DAVE: huh

DAVE: how do you know that

DIRK: A source.

DIRK: One supposedly knowledgeable in jujus.

DIRK: I never quite knew what that meant, though.

DAVE: well

DAVE: whatever his was

DAVE: "empty" is never how i would have described it

DIRK: Hmm.

DAVE: man

DAVE: i dunno if i figured something out here

DAVE: like um "explained" something or

DAVE: if im just driving myself crazy with this talk and nothing even needs explaining

DAVE: it doesnt change my past or how i feel about him

DAVE: he was still pretty much awful no matter what the reason

DAVE: and im sure thats the only feeling ill ever have about him

DAVE: so who cares why it was like that

DIRK: Yeah...

DIRK: That...

DIRK: All sounds really bad.

DIRK: I don't know what to say though.

DIRK: Maybe I shouldn't say anything.

DIRK: Since I just remind you so much of him, for, uh. Obvious reasons.

DIRK: I don't want to make you feel worse, or make it sound like I'm offering a defense.

DIRK: For him, or me.

DIRK: Because I don't have one.

DIRK: For either of us.

DAVE: come on man

DAVE: YOU didnt do anything

DAVE: this was just some douche bag with your exact dna, who happened to grow up to be my bro

DAVE: you had a completely different life full of like

DAVE: different choices and actions and stuff

DAVE: and even if you were gonna turn out like him youve barely cleared the half way mark on actually chronologically gettin there

DAVE: in some way ranting about all this is probably just uncool of me because...

DAVE: you arent him

DAVE: youre not resposible for any of this shit but im sorta implicitly tacking it on you anyway

DAVE: so

DAVE: sorry about that

DIRK: I'm not sure it's true though.

DIRK: At least, I don't feel that way.

DAVE: what way

DIRK: That I'm not him.

DIRK: The fact is, I am.

DIRK: It's something I've come to understand about myself.

DIRK: All splinters of me are basically me, no matter how much I want to resist that truth.

DIRK: Or pretend they aren't reflecting my own qualities back at me.

DIRK: I bear a certain responsibility for all of them.

DAVE: splinters...?

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: I guess the concept isn't that unique to me.

DIRK: We've all got other versions of ourselves running around here and there, throughout the various compartments of this messed up cosmos.

DAVE: right

DIRK: I just happen to be particularly connected to mine.

DIRK: I've felt...

DIRK: Haunted by them.

DIRK: And what that really means is, I'm perpetually haunted by my own bad qualities.

DIRK: So, when I hear about stuff I did in another reality,

DIRK: I'm not sure what my adult self might have ever tried to do to atone for that stuff, if anything...

DAVE: pretty much dick squat

DIRK: Yeah. But in any case,

DIRK: I'm sure I was completely in the wrong, and I'm sorry I messed up your life.

DAVE: ...

DAVE: thanks

DAVE: but

DAVE: it still feels a little odd accepting an apology from somebody who i just met and technically had nothing to do with my life

DAVE: even if you do feel guilty splinterways or whatever

DAVE: it is just a messed up situation

DAVE: and i guess i had to vent

DAVE: and there was never anyone i wanted to say all that to

DAVE: and the only thing that was gonna drag it out of me i guess was like a teen stand-in phantom of my dead bro

DAVE: just some perfectly innocent dude havin to take the brunt of this shit

DIRK: I'm not particularly innocent though.

DIRK: I've messed a lot of things up.

DIRK: With my friends.

DIRK: Honestly, that's why I wasn't that bent on sticking around, when I showed up.

DIRK: And pretty much jumped at the offer of flying here to get ready for some yet to be explained battle.

DIRK: Battles are easy. Just you, a sword, some bad guys... it's a lot simpler than having to answer for things you did.

DIRK: For the most part, I feel pretty bad about the role I played in my friends' lives.

DIRK: Especially Jake.

DAVE: what happened there

DIRK: I don't even know.

DIRK: An unmitigated disaster for which I'm entirely to blame.

DIRK: It's not any one thing. I think I was just a completely toxic element in his life from day one.

DIRK: I don't know what he's doing now.

DIRK: I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to avoid me as much as possible.

DIRK: I'm sure that's for the best.

DIRK: I think I need to stay out of his business for a good while, so I don't risk poisoning another innocent kid's life.

DIRK: Like I did with you, apparently.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: maybe its a little different cause relations between peers is a whole other thing

DAVE: its tricky shit and youre both figuring stuff out on a relatively equal footing and youre both at the same point in your lives

DAVE: its not like when one person is older and supposed to be a lot more...

DAVE: never mind this is a fucked up thing to think about

DAVE: but the bottom line is yeah laying low while you sort out your stuff cant hurt

DIRK: Right.

DIRK: The thing with that, with my adult self's...

DIRK: Ways.

DIRK: The sad thing is,

DIRK: I can really see it.

DIRK: How someone like me can go unchecked in life, and turn out to become a much worse person than I already am.

DIRK: I guess I'm just relieved I still have some time to make sure that doesn't happen.

DAVE: you dont actually seem like a bad person to me though

DIRK: No?

DAVE: nah

DIRK: Why not?

DIRK: We did just meet, after all.

DAVE: because

DAVE: i dunno if truly bad people wrestle so much with whether theyre good or bad

DAVE: i think if i ever sensed my bro like

DAVE: struggled at all with what he was doing or who he was

DAVE: or showed any sort of doubt

DAVE: that might have changed everything

DAVE: but there was never a crack in it

DAVE: or the slightest hint of introspection behind the aggressive cooldude facade

DAVE: if there was i sure never noticed

DAVE: i mean personally

DAVE: i think about it all the time now

DAVE: what it actually means to be good or bad

DAVE: or if not something that starkly moral

DAVE: at least just trying to examine the difference between being decent and being a douche

DAVE: maybe its because of him i worry about that now

DAVE: but for me i think that internal struggle is kind of mild

DAVE: for him...

DAVE: or you i mean

DAVE: it sounds like some pretty dark shit

DAVE: like grappling with...

DAVE: becoming evil vs simply trying not to

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: That's not too far off.

DAVE: but the point is

DAVE: even just talkin to you a little bit

DAVE: its obvious youve been fighting with that

DAVE: which means that you care enough to put in some effort

DAVE: i think that counts for something

DIRK: Maybe.

DIRK: Not sure if I'm ready to accept a pat on the back for recognizing I have some problems, and worrying about whether they'll destroy me and fuck up the people I care about.

DIRK: That might be setting the bar kind of low.

DAVE: well when it comes to the subject of him

DAVE: the bars already pretty low dude

DIRK: The weird thing, honestly,

DIRK: Is that it's actually kind of refeshing to hear a sincerely leveled critique of all my negative qualities, coming from another person invested in a relationship with me, rather than from a fucked up iteration of myself as some bizarre "trollish" form of self abuse.

DIRK: The only thing I've ever been exposed to are either various forms of self loathing either from me or my auto-responder, or attitudes completely oblivious to my real issues, as expressed through my friends.

DIRK: My friends always seemed to cut me so much slack, or were just never aware of the kind of person I really was.

DIRK: Well, Jake probably is, by now at least.

DIRK: But he's also the sort of guy who's just as likely to blame himself for stuff I did, as he is to blame me.

DIRK: Jane and Roxy, though.

DIRK: Never seemed to see anything wrong with me.

DIRK: If anything, just the contrary.

DIRK: Roxy in particular had a certain... fixation.

DIRK: She meant well, but was so enamored of me, and seemingly everything I did.

DIRK: Which I think was the last thing I needed.

DIRK: To be idolized in some form by other people I respected.

DIRK: I had enough of that feeling coming from within, particularly when I was younger.

DIRK: And since then, I've been plagued by the insane ego of my youth in the form of an artificial intelligence I designed which essentially trapped that state of mind in a sort of horrid suspended animation.

DIRK: Until... recent developments, of course.

DAVE: so

DAVE: was that stuff true

DAVE: when you said you idolized the other version of me

DIRK: Yeah.

DAVE: and not just some bullshit like how i used to say the same thing about my bro when i didnt know any better

DIRK: It's definitely not like that.

DIRK: I never lived with him, or met him, so couldn't have anything like the contentious relationship you had with my older self.

DIRK: He was a historical figure from centuries ago.

DIRK: There was a lot to admire, and think about fondly.

DIRK: Especially since I was alone, and never had any direct contact with another person, or any concept of civilization.

DIRK: So even though I'm sure I romanticized what his life was like, and the early 21st century in general,

DIRK: It was nice to think about you.

DIRK: I passed a lot of time that way.

DAVE: you say there was a lot to admire

DAVE: like what

DIRK: Well...

DIRK: He was pretty famous.

DIRK: Made some successful movies.

DIRK: At least under a somewhat expansive definition of "success".

DIRK: And an even more expansive definition of "movie".

DIRK: His work accumulated a lot of subversive political influence, which got him in trouble later.

DIRK: He made like a million bullshit Statues of Liberty, scummed them up with jpeg artifacts, and littered them all over the planet.

DAVE: holy shit

DIRK: He was also a pretty badass swordsman, and an active member of the resistance movement.

DIRK: He slaughtered the clown presidents on the roof of the White House, and flew away on a shitty skateboard.

DIRK: Then it seems he gave the Batterwitch a pretty good run for her money.

DIRK: It wasn't enough, but at least he went down fighting.

DAVE: that

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: ima need to hear more details on this some time

DIRK: Sure.

DIRK: But as you can tell, clearly there was a lot to look up to.

DIRK: I thought about the examples you set constantly. The creative ideals, the advanced theories on irony and humor, the tales of courage and martial prowess.

DIRK: Really, I modeled everything about myself after you. Or at least everything good that I was trying to become.

DIRK: And I probably spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining what it would be like to live during his time, and to be able to have something resembling a sibling relationship, or be in some sort of master-apprentice situation.

DIRK: When I finally learned you existed, and started to understand who he really was in relation to me, that put a lot into context.

DIRK: I realized he was a version of you who got a chance to live up to his full potential.

DIRK: And when I understood there was a young version of you, in a situation sorta like mine, whose time on Earth got cut short when you were thrown into all this,

DIRK: I was at least happy to think there was some reality where you got the chance to do everything you wanted to do, be successful, and fight for all the right things.

DIRK: Even if ultimately it didn't lead to a great outcome for humanity, you had an opportunity to live a full life and show what you were made of.

DIRK: While I guess I had... the same opportunity on your world, somewhat less fortunately.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: but then for all my bitching i guess i still never grasped your full reality

DAVE: just like you probably didnt grasp mine, but just reading into the mindset of a historical figure as best you could

DAVE: what if i wasnt as heroic as it seemed?

DAVE: what if adult me was kinda douchey too in a way you couldnt observe

DIRK: Perhaps.

DIRK: But beyond a certain point, I think accomplishments speak for themselves.

DIRK: I dunno if you can just completely shred every person who ever did great things because they had some flaws.

DIRK: All I can say is, it was important to me to see him the way I did.

DIRK: As a good person who inspired me, and set the standard for what I wanted to be.

DIRK: It kept me going.

DIRK: That said, I'm also glad there's this version of you who got to go through all the things you've been through.

DIRK: Like, yeah, you didn't get to be the cool celebrity who cuts down juggalos on badly defaced government property.

DIRK: And the idea of a "normal life" was rudely taken from you, and it's something you'll never get to experience.

DIRK: But this is so much more challenging, and uncertain.

DIRK: You get to apply all that potential you showed in one reality to something much bigger and more existentially critical.

DIRK: Whatever strength you showed in trying to save a dying planet, the fact is, I think we need that more here.

DIRK: And the trials inherent in being a part of something like this, I think they bring more out of you than a relatively pedestrian life on Earth would. Make you face more things about yourself. At least, that's been true for me.

DIRK: But it sounds like it's been true for you too.

DIRK: It sounds to me like the experiences you've had changed you a lot, for the better.

DIRK: You mentioned the experiences with him that were designed to make you stronger have actually made you weaker, but really, I doubt that's true.

DIRK: I bet you've become stronger than you realize, not because of anything he did, but because of what you've done, and the ways you've changed yourself through your own effort.

DIRK: I hope it doesn't come off as overly sentimental garbage, but it seems to me like you turned out to be a really good dude.

DIRK: Like, really, a better sort of dude I ever imagined talking to when I pictured meeting the legendary guy I idolized.

DIRK: I pictured him as probably being "too cool" to be the type of guy you are.

DIRK: But you know what, fuck being too cool for that.

DAVE: ...

DAVE: you

DAVE: ...

DAVE: you dont think im cool?

DIRK: Nah.

DIRK: I mean, in the right way, yes. I think you are.

DIRK: But, in the way that doesn't mean anything and doesn't matter,

DIRK: Not particularly.

DAVE: ...

DIRK: Anyway, that's...

DIRK: All my "stuff", with respect to your other self.

DIRK: Again, there's a lot more I could say about him.

DIRK: Maybe stuff you should know, or maybe it's all irrelevant to the path you're on now.

DIRK: Regardless, I'd be more than willing to answer any questions you have about him.

DIRK: Or, anything really.

DIRK: Feel free to ask me whatever, ok?

DAVE: ...

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i

DAVE: ill have to think

#homestuck #dave strider #dirk strider #homestuck act 6 #page 7748 #page 7749 #page 7750 #page 7751 #page 7752 #page 7753 #page 7754 #page 7755 #page 7756 #homestuck act 6 act 6 #homestuck act 6 act 6 intermission 5

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