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punchliiine · 1 month

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so, i keep getting asks in my inbox about whether shifting is real or not. hello? i mean it when i say it is real. shifting is real. idc how many posts people create in order to make you feel like it's not real or that it's just a teenage phase. it is real.

i have shifted plenty of times. i can fucking promise you that it's real. it will not be blurry or fuzzy or distorted or anything that might come close to a dream. it will not be astral projection, it will not be a psychotic episode or anything people (anti-shifters) say it is.

shifting is real, like so fucking real. and i completely understand how hard it is to trust strangers on internet. and not even strangers, TRUSTING AN IDEA THAT GOES BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION AND THIS REALITY. YOURE PUTTING YOUR FAITH INTO SOMETHING UNKNOWN.

BUT I PROMISE YOU I PROMISE YOU I PROMISE YOU SHIFTING IS REAL!!!!1

i have debunked and tried all those ways in order to find out if it's a lucid dreaming or whatever, i have tried them all. and they all proved to me that shifting is real.

i have healed myself of shit i couldn't have fucking imagined to ever leave me, shit that stained my soul. i have cried, laughed, snorted, breathed, screamed, talked, jumped, slept, touched.. i have lived. LIVED. and it was real, safe, and everything i've ever hoped for. I HAVE FINALLY LIVED FOR MYSELF.

i have met the man that i feel everything for, i touched his hands, i took pictures with him, i heard his voice and it was not something that could be disturbed by poor wifi. i even fucking know what shampoo brand he uses. i got to know him and he got to know ME as well. it is real. it is true. it is not impossible.

i felt it ALL. i promise you i did. ik my promises mean nothing since the whole idea of shifting is just crazy even if people tell you it's not. even if people say it's a religious practice and that it has existed for many years, it's still crazy and i get it. I HAVE BEEN THERE. but that doesn't make it not real.

it is real. those people are real. those experiences are real. everything is real. your scripts are real. shifting is real.

this is not a big inside joke nor is it a coping mechanism for covid or anyone that is mentally unwell. i know it demotivates you seeing tons of shifters trying for years with no progress. i know it demotivates you seeing people shit on shifting because we believe in something that is quite literally beyond everything we, as humans, have ever known. i know it demotivates you seeing tons of shifters saying that they were lying about their experiences and that shifting isn't real. but again, that doesn't mean shifting is not real.

i know these words are recycled and you've heard them plenty of times before, but there is nothing that i could do to make any of you believe me when i say shifting is real. i have had some experiences that me and my friends could vouch for, to prove that shifting is real BUT they could easily be rewritten as lies or me having 'telekinesis' or being set up or whatever. so i really don't wanna bother.

people will always ask for proof and will always try to debunk it, that's the way your brain works and i am not saying you're wrong for doing so or even asking for it. it's normal. but then again, even if i couldn't prove it to you or my attempts to prove it are 'debunked', it doesn't make shifting not real.

you can tell me shifting isn't real day and night, for eternity, but what i have experienced is not a lie. nor is it something that could ever come close to a lie. it is real life.

your belief or faith in shifting is unwavering because you haven't shifted, DUH??? THAT IS NORMAL!!!! but once you shift, come back to this very post and tell me how was it. was it something like a dream? or did you feel everything? consider it a dare.

i am not trying to make an anti-shifter believe, i couldn't care less. but if a shifter thinks about giving up and leaving their wildest dreams behind, please do not (i am going to kill you) do NOT. it is worth it. it is worth all of it and i bet my soul on it.

no matter how perfect your lucid dreams are, no matter how intense your maladaptive daydreams are, no matter WHAT. shifting is nothing of that sort. it is real. it is real. it is real.

i want you to just get out of wherever you are, stand in the wind, smell the air, pinch yourself, splash water on your shirt and feel how cold it gets, eat something sour, look at everything around you and notice the tiniest of details, look real close at a piece of wool and notice the tiny strings. see how you can experience all those in your cr? you can experience all those with shifting too, and infinitely more. shifting is THAT real.

it's okay to doubt, it's okay to need reassurance. it is 100% fine. but what's not okay is you constantly doubting your own power when you've been possessing it the moment you came into consciousness. you'll do wonders once you finally drop your doubts and just give it to yourself.

this is a recycled talk, i completely understand. but please just stop asking for confirmation, you ARE the confirmation.

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darlingofvalyria · 8 months

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❝Like we're going to hustle the shit out of his brain.❞

part 01 | it's called a hustle, sweetheart

chapter summary:

[ The math is easy in Helaena's head. One brother, heartbroken and moping and in a red flag relationship redder than Mars, and one hot best friend who is definitely his type. It's 1 + 1 = 3, really. ]

[ 2,345 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— this is going to be comedic and stupid in its comedy, bear with me - fake dating, fwb situation, toxic on and off alysmond, no use of y/n - mentions of sexy times but no sexy times yet (it'll be coming though, so minors gtfo) - multi parts - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— the main vibe is silly and sexy !! you're hel's hot friend !! you getting it down with cregan stark (as you should) !! dunno yet how many parts, but we vibing !! comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You and Hel watch her baby brother, Aemond of usually calm and pretty countenance, drag and wince as he took a mug of coffee- a slow, almost painful affair - mumble something, somewhat of a gratitude and an apology 2 in 1 special, and reverse drag and wince back into into the room.

It's a painful shuffle. A Michael Jackson awkward moonwalk attempt. A pitying regression from the usually very pretty boy you've made it a habit of teasing.

In the past few months, there hadn't be a lot of teasing from you.

When the door clicks, you turn to Helaena with an absurdly amused snort. "He's really such a pathetic little meow meow, huh?"

She slaps your arm. "Stop it. He's really down. Alys really did a number on him this time."

"She always seems to do a number on him every time they breakup." You fight the urge to roll your eyes, for the sake of the concerned frown on your best friend's pinched, starlight eyebrows.

After all, this isn't the first time of the very many on and off moments of the Alys and Aemond Train. You bore witness to it like you're sat in an empty cinema, popcorn stale and it hurts your jaw to chew, and the train has come unloose from the tracks about thirty minutes into the film, but the plot is predictable because it recycles.

Which makes it a garbage film you can hardly stomach, rolling your eyes and getting the fuck out of the cinema about to demand a refund.

Sure the first time, you felt bad, felt horrible for the both of them as it did seem like they loved each other. You had even commended the maturity of their decision, expressed sympathy and an even pious comments of 'but you were both so good together!'

But then the pity kind of loses its momentum when it's been the third time. The fourth. The fifth. So on and on and on...

At some point, you start thinking that maybe Aemond Targaryen— of pretty Jupiter glaze and cherry-pinched lips, a Greek god humbling at the image of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen's genes combined— third time's the charm! or fourth in Viserys' case, snort — is kind of a masochist.

Because despite saying that they're growing toxic for each other, he comes back.

Every.

Goddamned.

Time.

The maturity made way for screaming matches, bolts of peaking jealousy, and purposeful social media posts made to hook, line, and sinker the other person— like. Gods.

There was pettiness. There was red flags. And then there was the Wikipedia page that pops up when you search 'who is the worst toxic relationship?' and it doesn't even have a paragraph. Or a sentence. Just a picture of Aemond and Alys.

If Aegon Targaryen was made of easy vices and churlish, lazy smirks— his fingers, though cold and sometimes clammy, are still nice against your shoulder when he makes lazy circles at an attempt to flirt before you laugh it off and threaten rip his balls off, because if there's a few things that piss off Helaena, it's her older brother trying to go near any of her friends —

Aemond liked it in deep, ruby-red shards of a cracked heart being put together again and again. At first with superglue. Now he was more or less going with prayers and spit.

At some point, the pity turns to amusement turns to a roll of your eyes turns to concern shifting from the young man to his sister, your best friend, left somewhat the only one left to care for her crash and burn of a baby brother.

And you know for a fact that Daeron Targaryen is a menace on a dirt bike, and yet out here, in these streets, Helaena was worrying for Aemond.

Their mother's favourite child, their grandfather's most studious, and the pride and ego of Kings Landing U Business Department.

Helaena isn't used to worrying about Aemond like this.

You're not used to Helaena worrying for Aemond like this, and the usually pretty boy you liked to tease was starting to piss you off because of it.

"Hel," you start carefully, knowing you're threading on dangerous waters. As much as Hel adored you and no matter how many times she says her brothers are idiots cut from a blended cloth of her Hightower and Targaryen roots— she was also unmistakably protective of them.

She sighs, putting down the pancake batter she was mixing, and you, who was in charge of actually frying them, turn. She had hoped to talk to Aemond when he woke up, but clearly he was still very much smashed at any attempts of comfort or reprimand, even she wasn't sure anymore.

"I know, okay?" Hel mutters. "I know it's stupid."

"It's not stupid," you rush. At her doubtful look, you insist. "It's really not. I care about the little punk too. Even though lately I kind of just... want to hang him by his boxers on the balcony... make him see reason from there."

It works, Hel laughs. Then she smirks. "That little punk is only three years younger than you and a whole foot taller, babe." Then she blinks. Eyes going wide as saucers, which would be comical if not for the fact that she looked like she got the prophecy of Bathroom Urge Number #1. "Oh gods. Oh my god!"

"...Did you poop yourself?" Her face descends into a scowl, swatting you with the bowl. You yelp, giggling. "Hey, hey! Stop- Hel, you're going to spill everywhere! You know kitchen rules! No violence near the stove!"

"I was about to say I got it, you harlot! I didn't shit myself!" But she stops pestering you with the bowl as you snort.

"Okay, one, harlot? Who are you? A medieval peasant?"

"Please. If we were in the Middle Ages, I'd be a princess."

"That's actually too true, my princess, how dare I."

Hel raises an eyebrow. "But back to point- wait, actually, damn, where were you last night?"

Helaena already knew the answer. Apart from the fact that it is a best friend's duty to be apart of every slight and win in another's life, you had used your regaling tales about Cregan Stark as a means to distract Hel from worrying about her brother every time he broke up (or her; they're very gracious to each other as they take turns in piling to this toxicity), once again, with Alys.

"At Cregan's," you respond lightly, turning to flip another pancake into an awaiting plate. You were at Cregan's last night, so you only found out about Aemond's newly- and briefly - placed single status this morning when you got into the apartment you shared with Hel. She promptly placed her brother in her room while she, seeing as you weren't in yours, slept on your bed.

"And what did you do?" She knew exactly what you did— what you both did, every time since meeting again two months ago at the bar you worked.

"I helped him, uh." You stuck your tongue out, busying yourself with breakfast to clench at an excuse. "With his taxes."

Helaena snorts. "What does taxes have anything to do with the hickies? Gods, you look like you got mauled."

You snicker, fingers briefly dancing over the blue and violet marks over your neck and collarbone. It dipped lower to your chest and thighs, but you weren't going to tell your best friend that. By her wry grin, she already knew anyway.

"Okay, okay, enough of that. You said you 'got it'? Got what? A way to stop your brother's toxic relationship with the very hot older woman that we all known and adore as Alys Rivers?"

"Yes!" Then she hesitates. "But... are you and Cregan...?"

"What? No! I told you." You roll your eyes. "It's just a thing with us. We're both single, not really ready for the dating scene. He broke up with a serious relationship not long ago, he's not ready for it, and I'm sorry, but unlike your brother, is dealing healthily with it."

"With you."

"With me, yes." You shrug, turning off the stove once you've scraped the entire bowl. "So no, we're not in a relationship. But what's your plan got to do with my amazing- and frequent - sex life?"

"And you're sure you don't like him like that?"

You roll your eyes. Hard. "Yes, my royal pain the ass, I am."

Before you can react, Helaena has grasped you by your arms, watery lavender eyes wide and begging.

"Hel, I love you, but I don't like you like that."

"I love you too and same, no, no—"

"What do you mean 'no, no'? That is so offensive—"

"—I mean Aemond."

"I don't really love your brother either, though, I find him extremely pretty," you muse.

"Good! Might help with my plan!"

"What is your plan?"

"I will owe you, so, so much."

Your eyes narrow. "The fact that you're not telling it to me straight means it's a big ask, Targaryen."

As guilt flashes in her eyes, you know you're right. "So, so much. I swear. I will do your laundry— the chores! All of 'em! For a month!"

"Helaena Targaryen, I swear to the gods—"

"Canyoupleasefakedatemybrother?!"

You blink, triyng to unwound what she just spat in one exhale. "I am not fucking the sad out of your brother, that is also not healthy."

"What!? No!" Hel inhales, enunciating better now. "I said, Can you please fake date my brother? My poor, heartbroken, wonderful, you said so yourself 'very pretty', baby brother?"

She blinks, owlish and pityingly, the way you know she knows has gotten her out of a lot of messes. Has gotten her brother, Aegon, out of a lot of messes with their grandfather, who you know to be an asshole to anyone— the incident when he sideway called you a whore, still very bright in your mind; a grudge that keeps on going — but his granddaughter.

"Hel, I adore you, but that's the single most, stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"No, no, it's a lot more complicated than just you fake dating him, duh, I mean like, he knows it too! Like we're going to hustle the shit out of his brain!"

Your eyes flicker to Helaena's room where said sad sack she wants to hustle the shit out of, is in. "Elaborate."

"I meant like. Okay, so we know how this is going to go, right?" She rolls her eyes, her voice lowering to a hush, but her grip on you is just as strong. "They're broken up, he mopes around for a few days, goes to the seven stages of grief the on steroids version, making weird posts and baits against Alys until one of them takes a bite, then they meet trying to feel each other, suss each other out, next thing you know, they're in bed together and we're back to the Good Days of Aemond and Alys as seen on TV! But oh wait, it's worse every time it recycles! Like your favourite show but with butt-ugly new cast they never address!"

Hel takes a deep breath, defeated and desperate all at once. "I am so tired of it. Mom is so tired of it. You're tired of it. And I know, deep down, Aems knows this isn't a sustainable way to love someone. To be in love with someone. But he doesn't know anything but Alys. She's his first everything- yeah, I know about that too, it's disgusting. But now... there's you! My very hot, very beautiful, very amazing best friend."

You nod. "I am agreeing with most of your points so far, especially the compliments geared toward me."

She playfully slaps your arm, continuing. "If we pitch this as like, you helping Aemond make Alys jealous... make it seem as if we're helping him out by sussing her out... you're a total bombshell, babe, Aems will see that there's more to love and lust than just Alys Rivers. It doesn't have to tell all, start and end with her. Every time." She grins as if she's so smart, finally releasing you and placing her hands on her hips to complete the look of 'Yeah, my idea is brilliant, I know'. "We just need to get his eye away from the not really prize, and make him realise there's more than just the toxic in and out of a failing relationship with your first love."

It's hard to tell her that her idea might not be so bad after all, but Helaena is already grinning as she reads your face like an open book, jumping and clapping around silently.

"Hold on, girlfriend," you say lamely. "How are we even sure I'm his type? Imagine thinking all this, and I'm a plate of grass to a carnivore."

Helaena snorts. "Please, girlfriend. You're older than him, hot as hell, and has a coochie that keeps Cregan Stark well entertained that he's politely said no to the female population that wants him. You are not grass. You are a prime rib-eye they need to ship from the other side of the globe and further ruin our climate."

At your snort, a blush spreading across your face, you press your tongue against your cheek, not willing to concede just yet but feel your will slipping with all the positives.

First, no chores for a fucking month.

Two, you'll have fun (in his own way), adorable pretty boy Aemond again, sans the toxic.

"He can't fall in love with me, Helaena," you say carefully. "I'm serious. I don't like him that way."

She is already shaking her head.

"Of course not, he won't. We just need him to focus on anything else other than Alys. Gods bless her soul."

"She's still alive, Hel, Jesus."

"But you're perfect for this. No ones going to fall in love with anyone. I promise." Helaena grins, tearing a piece of pancake and popping it in her mouth. "My plan is foolproof."

A few thousand hours later, her plan, is in fact, not foolproof.

TAGLIST (message to be added! please ensure you are able to be tagged to get notifs): @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss

#aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #hotd fluff #hotd crack #aemond fluff #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #hotd x reader #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#helaena targaryen #alysmond #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

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nonasuch · 1 year

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The 2022 Miss Universe pageant was last night!

Which means: the National Costumes are here.

Yes, there is video. It’s worth watching if you want to see how some of these look in motion, but I’m warning you in advance that the emcees keep doing these shitty little rhyming couplets, and they will make you want to strangle them with one of the many available voluminous gown trains. So I’m suffering on your behalf, and liveblogging.

First up: Albania.

Sparkly flag-inspired bodysuit with train is the voting “present” of the Miss Universe National Costume Competition.

Angola. She did a fun dance on her way to center stage, which would probably not have been possible in her original costume, which was “tree-inspired” and too big to ship to New Orleans.

Argentina. This is where the video does come in handy, because without it I would not be able to award her First Contestant To Visibly Struggle Under The Weight Of Her Outfit. It’s a waterfall. The rainbow crotch area was certainly a design choice.

Armenia. I would like to see what’s going on with the bodice behind the... shield thing? but she never put it down.

Also, it turns out that when one contestant has a costume dedicated to solemn remembrance of the Armenian genocide, and the contestant immediately after her has a costume that’s about beach parties, there is kind of an uncomfortably abrupt tonal shift that happens onstage.

Aruba. Like I said: weird tonal shift! She did a little shimmy dance at Miss Armenia as they passed each other and it was clearly awkward for both of them. This is made of recycled materials leftover from Carnival, which is cool? I guess?

Australia. This is a prom dress. Boo.

Bahrain. A rare pants look! There’s a lot of detail in the headdress and bodice that’s kind of getting lost, but it looks cool in motion. Also the theme is apparently “Bahrain is rich as fuck,” so congrats I guess?

Belgium. Okay so the theme of this costume, my hand to g-d, is “the window on the International Space Station that Belgium built.” Why does this requires a shit-ton of leftover Christmas tinsel and some very awkward-to-wear angel wings? I do not know.

Belize. This is fun! It’s a good “lesser-known Batman villainess” kind of look. Like if Ivy and Catwoman co-mentored someone. The actual theme is “the world’s only jaguar reserve, which is in Belize,” but I think it’s also kind of implying that she might be a were-jaguar. Which, again, is fun!

Bhutan. This goes in the “just an actual regional/folk costume” category, which is also kind of like voting Present, but it looks like the fabrics are nice.

Bolivia. She has an entire Andean condor on her head so I’m already on board. This photo only shows the cloak, which is covered in silver spangles in honor of Bolivia’s silver mines, and is also why her condor is perched on a miner’s helmet. The dress underneath is entirely made of swags of sparkly gold beads, so the visual effect is actually pretty nice in motion.

Brazil. The construction details on this are actually quite lovely! Lots of intricate beading and rhinestone work. Unfortunately that doesn’t convey well at any distance, and also that white fin peplum thing flaps around really awkwardly when she walks. Oh, wait, she can flip it up to be a clamshell thing behind her head!

That looks much better.

British Virgin Islands. First giant flower of the year!

Bulgaria. Apparently this is made of neoprene? So with that and the rainbow stripes, the effect ends up being kind of “what if Midsommar, but at a rave.”

Cambodia. It feels weird to say “yep, standard Miss Universe warrior goddess costume” but basically that’s what this is. I do like the green-and-gold color palette, though.

Cameroon. “The baskets represent the nation’s agricultural movement.” Okay! I like how it’s giving “Valkyrie, but make it Global South,” though I’m not sure three entire country-shaped cutouts were necessary.

Canada. Another fine Miss Universe tradition: contestant who knows how to dance en pointe so she’s going to goddamn wear a costume that goes with pointe shoes, Or Else. Some nice beadwork! I would let her be the third, secret red swan in Swan Lake if that were a thing.

Cayman Islands. Sexy Blue Iguana is a fun concept! There’s a tail in back of the cape.

Chile. Sexy Atacama Desert is kind of abstract, as these things go, but I respect her choice to wear something she could walk in.

China. Hilariously, the announcer was like “This look... does not match the bio we were given, so I’m gonna wing it!” The fabrics are nice -- the satin drapes and moves well -- but the embellishments are kind of meh compared to some of the Miss China looks I’ve seen.

Colombia. This is a legit great Sexy Phoenix, but I need you all to know that her crown got turned a little sideways while she walked to the stage and she clearly knew it and just as clearly could do nothing about it, and I feel bad for laughing but it was funny.

Costa Rica. Sexy hummingbird! I think I’ve identified a recurring theme for this year. Corset and wings are made of recycled materials, which is nice, and they look well-made -- a lot of wing-based costumes tend to flop around or go crooked in motion, but not these.

Croatia. Oh, honey. This has big “my mom helped me make this the night before it was due” energy, unfortunately.

Curacao. “Meet the Fisherman’s Wife, a woman with a key role in Curacao’s fishing industry.” Okay? Honestly you could have left off the basket and said “this costume represents the beautiful marine life of Curacao” and I would have been like “yep, checks out” but now I have many follow-up questions.

Czech Republic. This is meant to be a Mucha-inspired look but uh. Mostly it’s just. beige. I’m starting to feel like all the other Slavic countries saw advance photos of Miss Ukraine and were like “let’s just phone it in this year, girls, there’s no point.”

Dominican Republic. “This costume recognizes the importance of birds in Dominican culture.” They did make it with silk feathers, which I appreciate, because it would have been very weird to use real ones with that mission statement. Also I like her headdress, and the giant feather fans are a good way to nod in the direction of wings without the hassle of actually wearing wings.

Ecuador. This looks good in motion! She did some dancing onstage that worked well, and there’s a great sculpted Inca head scowling on the back of her headdress. This is still only a few notches above voting Present, though.

El Salvador. “History of Currency,” which is definitely a concept! The Bitcoin wizard staff is sure something.

Equatorial Guinea. A perfectly nice entry in the “actual regional costume” category, but on the video I was like “oh, yikes, her headdress is really wobbly” and then it FELL OFF and I felt so bad for her.

Finland. “Spirit of the Forest”? Fuck off, that’s a prom dress. Boo.

I’m going to pause here so this readmore doesn’t get completely out of control. Shit, there are 50 more of these? Well, I have only myself to blame.

#miss universe #miss universe national costume

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ganondoodle · 4 months

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was watching another totk video and through that found out what the reward is for completing koltins quests, honestly im not really surprised but also baffled and it really just shows, once again, that totk kinda does exactly what you shouldnt do in a sequel imo.. double down on all the bad stuff of the previous title

at this point i have talked about various problems in detail but i just keep realizing over and over just how much of the wrong lesson they seemed to take from botw, they recycled almost everything from botw by changing some paint or some words, made a giant game even bigger and filled it with boring and tedious busy work that has mediocre to insulting rewards EVEN MORE than botw

game too big and empty? make it TWICE as big, change barely anything about the map of the previous title and the new added map(s) is ONE biom that almost everywhere looks the same and even emptier with little to do

too many krogs? MAKE IT MORE and double down on the literally shit reward bc its the SAME just with one more stack of shit

too many shrines with short puzzles? ADD EVEN MORE and make them even shorter and easier to complete, alot of them not even involving a puzzle and multiple being an utterly out of place tutorial that could have been explained to you in a single text box

rewards in the overworld being mostly either a krog or a shrine which gets repetetive with shrines being ALOT and krogs being wayyy too many? add even MORE shrines and EVEN MORE krogs, but now add over a hundred of caves to it that all get repetetive after just a few of them and you only do them for a shrine or a currency you have to collect to get one cool looking but pretty bad to use armor set and a piece of cloth for your parasail that you can only use one of at the tiem and to switch have to go back to a specific NPC, theres ghost lights to collect which only serve to yet again buy one armor set from a set of NPCs and ar meaningless afterwards, the light roots dont require you to do anything but walk to them and the reward for finding them all is a "you did it" sticker that doesnt even stick (its useless)

weapons break too quickly? well make the weapons you can find even worse to force you to fuse a material to it so its at all usable BUT IT STILL BREAKS and when it does it breaks not JUST the weapon but ALSO a material, materials that you will need for now EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE armor upgrades too, weapons cannot be rewards anymore either bc they will always have to be fused with something to make them stronger bc none is strong on its own- this also applies to THE MASTERSWORD, something ALSO complained about that it still 'breaks' even after empowering it through the DLC in botw, and now it cant even BE empowered (bc no DLC) unless you fuse soemthing to it (to. the. MASTERSWORD.) EVEN THO EMPOWERIGN THE MASTERSWORD IS THE ENTIRE POINT OF ZELDAS ULTIMATELY MEANING- AND CONSEQUENCELESS SACRIFICE !!

the dungeons were to samey and simple? make them look different but keep the core structure (activate terminals in completely seperate from each other "puzzles", fight boss) while also makign them be even more skippable (climable walls, the ceiling jump ability- something the titans DIDNT have) with incredibly easy bossfights that end with an embarassing copy and paste scene that hits you over the head with long known and obvious information over and over

people didnt like how the story was so detached from everything in the present? well, make the story and the present EVEN MORE detached from anything in the present, so far in fact that there is literally no connection to it aside from zelda who is the only connective thread and is also only treated as such (she is as personality lacking as sonia as soon as shes yoinked into the past) and the suddendly and out of nowhere intruduced architecture and history that wasnt a thing in botw but is treated like it was always there

people didnt like how far botw was detached from all other zelda games? ok totk is not only FURTHER detached from those it also completely detached itself from its on predecessor :)

people didnt like the memory system? ok make it WORSE then, its a linear story now that you can ruin by seeing even one out of order, they are super short and dont give you anymore context to anythign than the things you could figure out yourself or were already told really, instead of giving you views into a characters personality you get to view a basic plot summary of a story that is so flavorless and predictable i knew what would happen from the start yet acts like its being vague and cool that i felt like i was beign treated like a literal toddler

too few enemy types? well, we will reuse the old ones EVEN MORE thant before over twice the map and the new ones that are there are either utterlly irrelevant to change up the gameplay or largely feel like the old ones just with a paint job (constructs), the griocks looked cool at first but are just a more annyoing version of the lynels (who feel like an actual duel, akin to a proper boss)

even the things that were adressed, or attempted to, didnt fully work, like the bosses ARE more unique, but also still so incredibly easy and ALSO have multiple duplicats just sitting around in the underground despite them being supposedly the root of the problems of the regions (i like refighting bosses, but id rather have a character that lets me choose ok i wann fight this one again and teleporte me into a vision or sth- also the most fun fights arent even part of it (koga) )

the rain complaint got a new effect type to counteract it, which ... doesnt work well, you need specific materials to make potions with that effect which you also need to upgrade the only armor set wit hthat effect that ONLY works once you upgrade it (i think ... i dont know how high i got it but if even the full upgraded set doesnt negate the rain effect i will not be surprised either lol) also it adds just yet another effect type that spams your inventory and you dont really need .... or i might be the only one that saw no value at all in the "attack up when hot" new type of effects bc it felt so specific and situational while also having a way better option (just make it a standard attack up thing?) at least in my eyes-

... ill stop here .... this got longer again didnt it O-o

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rants #YET AGAIN #aaaaaaand i wasted all my evening #this was supposed to be a half joking short post #but i keep getting into ranting #hhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrraaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months

Text

SLUT!

chapter six: if a man talks shit then I owe him nothing

series masterlist

You spent the weekend holed up in your dorm room and avoided going outside at all costs. Stories and rumors from the party made their way around campus, making your reputation was worse than ever before. You skipped class on Monday and thought about skipping class on Tuesday as well but you didn’t want your grades to suffer because of some stupid jocks and their hateful words.

As you walked to your chemistry class that Tuesday, you tripped over someone’s foot in the hallway and went down. You landed on the floor and looked up to see Harry smirking at you.

“Ops. Sorry. Didn’t you see there.” He snickered. You got up and dusted yourself off before trying to open the door to your classroom. That’s when you noticed the sign on the door that said class was delayed a a few minutes due to a test being taken in that room. Harry’s next door class was also delayed for a test, explaining his presence in the hallway. Gwen and a couple other girls on your soccer team who were in Harry’s class were waiting as well, adding to the long list of people you did not want to be around.

And just when things couldn’t get any worse, Peter walked up to the classroom door. You watched him look the sign and accidentally made eye contact with him once had read it. You both quickly looked away and you turned around all together to avoid looking at him. A few more boys in Harry’s class walked up and smirked when they saw you.

“Hey Y/n, when you go in for STD testing, do they give you a little punch card since you go there so often?” One of the boys asked you, making everyone else in the hallway laugh at your expense.

“Shit, I hope so. She’s probably their number one customer.” Another boy added.

“I doubt she gets tested. When you sleep with as many guys as she has, you build up immunity to STDs. There’s probably diseases brewing in her that science hasn’t even discovered yet.” Harry laughed. You ignored them, but Gwen and your teammates looked at Harry with disproval.

“Hey guys, what’s the difference between Y/n’s mouth and the boys locker room?” One of the guys asked.

“What?” Harry asked, already laughing.

“They’re both covered in the DNA of the football team, but at least the locker room closes after 6 pm. Y/n stays wide open all night. Isn’t that right?” A guy asked you and slung his arm around you. You pushed him off of you and he stumbled back into the wall. You then looked at Peter, who had been silently listening to what had been going down.

“Are you seriously not going to say anything?” You asked him. Peter stared at you and felt speechless. He knew he should stand up for you, but he was still hurt over the events at the party.

“Of course not. You’re unbelievable.” You laughed dryly and shook your head at him.

“Aw. What happened, Peter? Did you catch her with one of the basketball boys?” One of the guys asked with fake sympathy.

“No.” Peter scoffed and you thought he might actually stick up for you.

“He was on the hockey team.” Peter added, not even knowing why he did it. Everyone laughed and Peter once again had the approval of the guys he despised. He hated the way he was behaving but couldn’t stop.

“You’re just like Brad, you know that?” You said to Peter as you started to walk away from the classroom.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked you, but you didn’t answer.

“To sleep her way into a new school, I bet.” Harry mumbled.

“Oh shut up, Harry.” Gwen groaned. Harry looked at her in surprise as his friends murmured in amusement.

“Excuse me?” Harry asked her.

“If you’re going to disrespect another women so easily right in front of me, what’s stopping you from doing the same to me?” Gwen asked and folded her arms.

“Uh, what? Are you guys BFFs all the sudden? You make fun of her too. We all do.” Harry pointed out.

“I called her a slut a few times behind her back but you guys are just pigs. You never let up. You all recycle the same stupid jokes that no one even finds funny anymore. And don’t think I haven’t heard about what happened at the party. You guys have taken this way too far.”

“Yeah. And how can you claim she’s full of diseases when you made it public knowledge that you slept with her? Doesn’t that make you full of diseases too?” One of the girls on your team asked.

“No. Cause I never actually slept with her.” Harry scoffed. “None of us have. It’s just a joke.”

“Wait, what do you mean never even slept with her?” Gwen asked. “You told me she tried to hook up with you an hour after we broke up.”

“Yeah, that’s the joke. We all say shit like that. That’s what makes it funny.” Harry tried to explain but he was having a hard time being convincing. The girls were looking at each other and they came to a stark realization: what the boys did to you could have and could still be done to any of them. And that they had realized that they’d been tricked into doing some of the dirty work for Harry and the other guys, they were angry.

Meanwhile, Harry was uncharacteristically smart enough to realize that the girls had turned on him. He looked around at their disgusted faces and gulped.

“Woah.” Harry laughed nervously. “The females are angry. Chill out. It’s just a joke.”

“Well I haven’t passed the ball to her in months because of your little “joke”. We could’ve been a team this whole time but you made us think we couldn’t trust her.” Gwen said angrily.

“So?” Harry scoffed. “It’s just a stupid soccer game? And she’s just a stupid-“

“Don’t.” Gwen cut him off. Harry scoffed and was about to defend himself, but she wasn’t done.

“I don’t want a boyfriend who hates women, Harry. I put up with this for way too long. I should’ve never believed you over her. None of us should have. I can’t take back what I did to her but I can make sure it never happens again. So we’re over.” Gwen stated. Harry looked around at all the people staring at him and felt small for the first time in his life. It was the way he always made you feel, but he didn’t know that until now.

“Well thanks a lot, Gwen. Now I don’t want to go to Intro to Modern Western Art.” Harry grumbled and left the hallway with his friends following after him. Peter smiled at Gwen standing up for you but it didn’t last long.

“What are you smiling at?” She asked him.

“Me?” Peter asked and pointed to herself.

“You were her boyfriend and you didn’t defend her. You took their side.” Gwen said angrily and pointed to where the guys had just been.

“She cheated on me. Why should I defend her?” Peter asked quietly.

“Cheated on you? Wasn’t that just a stupid rumor from the party?” Gwen asked skeptically.

“No. She texted me to come get her at a party and I caught them in bed together.”

“Caught her with who?” She questioned.

“I don’t know who the guy was. He was passed out next to her in bed. You didn’t see the picture?” Peter asked her. Gwen raised an eyebrow and took out her phone. It didn’t take long for her to find the picture and when she did, she laughed dryly.

“First of all, this is the most staged photo I’ve ever seen. They’re both fully clothed and they’re not even facing each other. She literally has shoes on in this picture. And if she’s passed out, how was she texting you?” Gwen asked him. Peter opened his mouth to respond but realized he had no answers. He’d wondered the same questioned Gwen had just asked and hearing them out loud made him wonder when more. He was about to go after you when the classroom door finally opened. The professor ushered everyone in and Peter was stuck for the next hour and a half. He knew you had a game later that day and decided to go talk to you then to finally hear your side of the story.

When you walked into the girls locker room later that day, the entire team was already in there. They were all looking at you, something you were used to, but it was different this time. They looked apologetic instead of judgmental.

“Hey.” You said skeptically and put your bag down. Gwen stood up and walked towards you, making you gulp in anticipation of what she was about to do. She threw her arms around you and hugged you tightly, taking you by surprise.

“I’m sorry.” She said in your ear as the other girls walked over to you as well. They all joined in on the hug while you stood there in confused silenced. Gwen pulled away after a minute and kept her hands on your shoulders.

“I know we haven’t been the nicest to you. And you have no reason to forgive us-“

You cut her off by pulling her back into the hug. You felt your eyes well up with tears and began to cry as Gwen hugged you tighter. The girls wrapped their arms around you again and let you cry as long as you needed to.

“We’re on your team. Whatever you need. We can walk you around campus so the jocks can’t harass you anymore.” One of the girls told you.

“And we’ve been reporting the pictures online so they get taken down. It’s been working so far. You can’t find it as easily now.” Another said.

“Why are you guys being so nice to me?” You asked them as you wiped your face.

“Because we believe you.” Gwen told you.

“You do?” You smiled hopefully.

“We do.” She nodded. “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner.”

“It’s okay.” You can told them. “I’m just glad you do now.”

“Of course. We got your back from now on. We already started to try and make it up to you. You should’ve seen the way we ganged up on the guys in the hallway today.” One of the girls laughed.

“Yeah.” Another girl said. “They were all bumbling and embarrassed. None of them were safe.”

“Not even Peter.” Gwen added, taking you by surprise.

“You guys went after Peter?” You asked as a smile tugged on your lips.

“Yeah. Just because he stayed silent doesn’t mean we were gonna be.” Gwen insisted. You smiled fondly at her, and then it turned sad.

“You know, I’ve been called a slut more times than my own name at this point. But I think it hurt the most coming from him. Why is that?” You asked them.

“Because he knew you. And he still called you something he knew you weren’t.” Gwen replied. You nodded your head when you heard how you were feeling put into words.

“Come on. We can plot ways to get back at him later. We have a game to play.” Gwen said as she took your hand. You all went out onto the field and played your best game of the season.

Peter sat alone in the bleachers to watch your game. He noticed that the girls were passing to you this time, pretty often too. You scored two goals and were met with hugs from the other girls when you did. Your team won the game and walked off the field with your arms around each other. All the pain from the weekend had temporarily subsided now that you were finally welcomed by your team. You had a huge smile on you face as you walked towards the locker room until you saw Peter walking towards you. You froze until he was right in front of you.

“Hey.” He said nervously.

“What are you doing here?”

“I signed my name on your clipboard and said I’d be at all your games, didn’t I?” He smiled weakly but you stayed coldly staring at him.

“What do you want? To call me a slut some more?” You asked and folded your arms.

“No. I’m never gonna call you that again. I never should’ve said it in the first place.”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” You agreed. “You told me you hated Brad and then went and acted just like him.”

“Do you think we could talk? Just the two of us?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Oh, now you want to talk? What about when I wanted to talk at the party? You didn’t seem to want to talk then. You just wanted to scream at me and call me a slut in front of everyone.”

“I’m sorry about that but-“

“Or what about in the hallway before? When those boys were making fun of me? You didn’t want to talk then. You said you loved me yet you were totally comfortable remaining silent while they ridiculed me. How does that work, Peter?”

“I’m sorry about that. About all of it. I was angry with you and I’m still trying to understand what happened. Can we please talk so we can figure this out?”

Before you could respond, one of the girls from your team came behind you and put her arm around your shoulders.

“Sorry. We have plans.” She said to Peter.

“Really? You guys are going out together?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yep. So if you wanted to publicly embarrass her again, you’ll have to do it some other time.” She said and led you away. Peter sighed and watched you walk away with your team. He could feel his chances of making things right with you slipping away with every step you took. It seemed like talking to you and getting the whole story was gonna be harder than he thought.

Tag List 💋

@breadglasses @hollandweather @cashtons-wife @scenesofobx

@trumanbluee @classygladiatortidalwave @miwagila @sarcasm-and-stiles

@hitoshislut @misspascalpunk @buckylovinglokivariant @betzabobababi

@eterjas @pleasingregulus @avatarjuno @dreamingofts18

@crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @erule @justsomebodyweird @un06 @tom-hollands-wifey

@bellajg21 @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer @ferrjulie

@kitykatnumber @angelayse @cleosertoriooc @iamdedsthingz @girls-and-guts

@tomshufflepuff @lovely-blackinnon @matchafrappeidm @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kneelforloki

@xorderedkaosx @dory-98 @okayiamkassandra @chaerfull @trulygnomed

@hey-girl-hey @spilled-coffee-cup @emotionsmgcbabe @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @bubblegumholland

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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somnambulic-thing · 11 months

Text

Agents of Chaos

for @bettyfrommars : be careful what you wish for <3

1k - Wayne & Eddie/afab!reader (could be platonic too, you decide) | just silly cute shit including raccoons.

not proofread, so probably messy but made with love

----

Wayne Munson liked to think of himself as a tolerant man.

Even before he adopted his nephew one of his ways to live by had been Live and let live but living with Eddie had been an adjustment. The boy constantly reminded him to keep an open mind to everything and anything as long as it wasn’t hurting others, no matter how wild and bizarre it seemed on first glance but today Wayne had his difficulties going out of his comfort zone.

“Eddie!” he called, the handle of the trailer door still clutched in hand, his posture frozen upon entry.

Eddie’s door was closed and there was music blasting behind it, so rationally, Wayne knew that calling out for the kid was useless to begin with but he rather got the urge to yell out of the way before he actually faced his nephew. “Goddamnitjesuschrist, EDDIE!”

There on Wayne’s living room floor were two raccoons eating cereal straight out of the box. There was a - gladly - short trail of destruction behind them from where - so Wayne deducted - they had entered through the open window.

But Wayne wasn’t simply finding himself in a situation where his kid left open the kitchen window and accidentally invited some critters in for some Fruit Loops - no no no, not his boy, not his Eddie - because the damn raccoons were wearing goddamned small custom-tailored-denim vests. With small patches.

For a second, Wayne - who always has had an open mind for the supernatural too - stopped before he went to shoo the raccoons out of his house because they did look an awful lot like Eddie and his fellow agent of chaos.

It took him some time to escort the unusual guests out of the trailer and their little puzzled faces when he finally closed the door on them stung him in the chest a little; they were still wearing those silly vests and it wasn’t beneath him to admit that it was a little sweet.

Wayne sidestepped the chaos, closed the window on his way to Eddie’s room and knocked hard enough to make his knuckles sting to be heard over the screeching of guitars. “EDDIE?” he knocked again and the music dipped down to a murmur.

‘You heard that?”

‘Heard what?’

“Heard ya uncle knocking at the door!”

‘Oh, shit… COME IN!’

Wayne braced himself, took a deep breath and— still wasn’t prepared for the scene he stepped into.

“Hey, old man,” Eddie grinned, sitting on his floor, a sleeping raccoon in his lap, cutting out pieces for another little vest from an already pretty shredded denim jacket.

“Hi, Wayne,” you said, lying on your stomach on Eddie’s bed, not even looking up at him because you were so engrossed in hand painting a small patch that - Wayne had no doubt - would go on that vest once it was finished.

Wayne rubbed his face with both of his palms hard enough to make his teeth dig into his cheeks and groaned.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

“Uhhm,” Eddie started in his isn’t that obvious-voice, “we’re supplying the neighbourhood fauna with bad-ass merchandise?”

“You’re—“

“Made by hand, with black hearts and from recycled locally sourced materials,” you added, looking up at Wayne at last after sharing a conspiratorial grin with Eddie.

Wayne blinked a few times and put his hands on his hips. “And why are you doing— that?”

Eddie and you shrugged in unison before you suggested: “Supply and demand?”

“And it’s pretty adorable,” Eddie added.

“How much demand can there possibly be for raccoon-vests in the first place?”

“So far,” Eddie said and looked at a notepad next to him, “we had three customers!”

“And have a waiting list of five.”

“No!” Wayne said, shaking his head and waving a finger. “You don’t bring any more raccoons into my house! Do you hear me?”

“But—,” you tried to argue.

“No!”

“We still have—“ Eddie started.

“I said: no!”

It was like Wayne was talking to two eleven-year-olds all over again instead of two Seniors who were about to graduate in a few months. He asked himself if this wasn’t another case of derailed economics homework.

“And may we know why you’re shutting down a flourishing business?”

“Eddie, stop the act now. There were two raccoons looting our kitchen when I came in just now and we won’t be able to leave a damn window cracked when you keep pampering those critters!”

“Shit…”

“We didn’t mean to…”

“Sorry, Uncle Wayne…”

“T’ was just a little fun…”

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to…”

Wayne lifted his hands and the murmuring stopped. “I know, I know… you two get carried away like that, just… no more wild animals in the house! Do you two copy?”

“Loud and clear…”

“Affirmative, Wayne, soooo affirmative…”

“Sorry again— did anything break?”

“We’ll replace it—“

Again, Wayne lifted his hands. “You owe me a box of fruit-loops and a mug.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and you buried your face in a pillow.

“They… broke a mug?”

“Nah,” Wayne grinned. “But I have to get something nice out of this mess, don’t I?”

And with that, Wayne started pulling the door close behind him, enjoying the quiet that followed. Then he remembered something and lurked back in, pointing at Eddie’s lap.

“You sure that’s not dead?”

“What?”

“You guys were blasting the whole trailer park when I got home.”

Eddie looked down at the motionless creature in his lap. “Yep, still breathing.”

“A connoisseur of the hard'n'heavy arts,” you giggled and it immediately spread to Eddie.

“Get that fellow out of here. Clean-up and replacing food afterwards.”

“Can’t we finish this last vest?” you pouted.

“No puppy eye’s this time, kid, I’m puttin’ my foot down,” and he slowly closed the door again.

‘Can we move the business to your place?’

‘Sure…. my mom works until nine…’

‘Can’t believe I have to wake Misses Snuggles now…’

Wayne shook his head and went to make some coffee when he met another well-dressed raccoon on the kitchen counter, chewing on some bread.

“Right,” he rolled his eyes, “three customers so far.”

It was an unusual morning to have, Wayne knew that; but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Wayne Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson & Raccoons #Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson #shortfic #my fic

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mushroomates · 9 months

Text

the fellowship at a hardware store, from someone who works at a hardware store:

sam: is in the nursery!! goes straight to the discount/dying plants and piles his cart full of wilted and sad plants. likes to rescue the houseplants first, has a soft spot for perennials and citrus trees. is a nightmare to check out but is very sweet about it. dirt and leaves everywhere. like, everywhere. they have to sweep after he’s gone. surprisingly strong and hauls big bags of dirt.

frodo: enjoys home improvement!! likes to wander carpeting and organization, hunts for good deals and keeps tabs on the sales weekends. he likes to peruse the shower curtains and closet accessories. likes to refurbish old furniture he finds off the side of the road- currently fixing up an antique dresser to put in the master bedroom.

merry: doorknobs, handles, dresser nobs. he likes to pick out the interesting and antique ones and customize his home with them. he really likes the oddly shaped ones, he has one starfish and one pickle on his nightstand table. likes to joke about touching all the knobs and fiddling with the knockers.

pippin: is lost in the lighting department. he’s staring up at all the pretty lights and hypnotizing fans. likes the remote controlled lights, enjoys messing with the demos. also likes collecting paint chips. (pippins also the kind of person to get really high and shit in the display toilets.) does not buy anything, maybe some beef jerky and skittles at the check outs.

boromir: this man has like 80 projects going on and is remarkably proficient in every conceivable area featured in the store. he’s here so much people think he works here. he kinda does. he’s happy to advise you, lead you to products, and lifts heavy things for little old ladies and swooning maidens. he’s happy to grab the things on the highest shelf as well as carry those bigs bags of dirt out to your care. he is just a naturally pure and helpful soul. <3

aragorn: has lost himself in scrap wood. straight to the lumber yard, straight to the pile of damaged and recycled wood. once a month, he comes and loads up as much as it will fit in a pickup truck. no one knows what he does with it but he keeps coming back. there are several theories around the store. either he’s building a bunker, has a side hustle by reselling it, makes massive fires or he does wood work. alternatively, he’s a homeless man building his own cabin in the woods so he can live away from society. that’s one’s probably the closest.

gandalf: mixes his own paint. he doesn’t work there but somehow he keeps getting back there and making his own custom colors. was known to pull a miracle and turn gray paint back into white. no one knows how he did this. likes to camp out in the seasonal section. enjoys lounging on couches and swings for long periods of time.

gimli: is so excited to walk into the tools section. wants all the toys. likes power tools in a way that’s both funny and scary. really likes chainsaws and leaf blowers, possibly because they pose the biggest threat to legolas. often gets flagged out the door because no one person needs that many tools and he must be up to something. he always beeps out the door because inevitably someone forgot to take off one of the sensors of his many, many tools. he used to be nicer about this but lately has lost patience with always being stopped out the door, and often will make a show of waving his receipt before leaving.

legolas: spends a good amount of time in the garden. i imagine he gets enamored with the fountains and ponds rather quickly, also likes the statues and fun pots. also, wanders through the garden and samples the plants. by samples i mean eat small bites of it, and if he finds the quality satisfactory he will purchase it. this is rarely the case and he often just goes around eating small bites of houseplants.

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drowsystarlight · 8 months

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I like the idea of Death the Kid having a walk-in closet full of pristine branded clothes (honestly a Special kind bc he values style and comfort). He’s rich and lives in a Mansion with multiple rooms. Suits are his casual attire and he’s just that type of person. He never needed a material thing that he couldn’t just get. He can buy that shit. If a dress shirt ceases being symmetrical? Ditch it. Buy a new one. His customized blazer got damaged? Replace it. Easy. No son of Death would wear anything less than perfect.

Meanwhile, Blackstar is the type to keep the same five pairs of clothes until they’re literally breaking down at each seam.

Tsubaki even has to beg him to buy new stuff, or gift it to him on birthdays (even those ones get worn down for years, too). He grew up under Sid’s care and i bet he never had the luxurious life Kid had. Maybe Sid bought him clothes out of his own salary as a teacher and Blackstar knew that, so he treasures the clothes he gets. Assassin clothes, hand wraps, tank tops, sleep attire, old hand-me-downs get cut up and recycled into bandages or wraps for training, etc. Maybe he knows how to sew because he wanted to keep wearing a specific star-filled tank top Sid got him for his 13th birthday, so he asked Nygus to teach him. He wasn’t good at it at first but hey, practice eventually makes perfect. When he goes to missions and fights, he repairs the damage in his clothes. He’ll keep wearing the same shit until it gives up on him and even then, he really doesn’t want to let it go. Shoes are his worst nightmare because all his running wears it down fast.

It’s easy to write him off as a slob. Blackstar wore nothing formal; he looked like shit when he tried, too, slobbering for food when he attended the Academy’s founding anniversary. The boy didn’t know class, or finesse, or elegance. Everything he did screamed fucking reckless and immature. Obnoxious. It showed in his clothes, tattered as they are—because why else would it be so worn down if he was a careful man?

Being friends doesn’t exactly erase the impression, but it opens a bridge to ask. When Kid finally asks Blackstar why he circles through the same two tank tops whenever the group hung out outside the school, he’d say he liked the star designs. It suits me, he’d brag, and Kid is just jealous of his great clothing sense. Typical. But Maka eventually, secretly, tells Kid it’s just a special top because he’s had it since the both of them were twelve (everyone knows Blackstar would rather eat dirt than admit to being attached to things). Sentimental and Blackstar didn’t feel like they belong in the same sentence, but that thought felt odd now that he knew. Especially after he sees him discreetly check the stitches after an intense basketball match.

Death the Kid would notice every new stitch on Blackstar’s uniform after a mission since then. From afar, you don’t see it because it’s hidden well, but up close (maybe when they’re sparring, or sitting next to each other, or that day when Blackstar carried him through Excalibur’s wretched cave—though he foolishly shrugged that off). He can see it if he paid attention long enough, if Blackstar doesn’t move around too much for a moment. Stitches on top of old fixes, or the odd bits of his tank top turning out to be patches he couldn’t really hide. When he points it out again, they’re alone together and Blackstar happily shows it off (“I’m the best at everything, including sewing! Marvel at my craft!”). Kid admits ti thinking he’s a slob, and then the man would proceed to poke and prod at him for his branded stuff. There’s a reason why everyone saw him as a spoiled brat, after all; on the walk home that day, he ponders if he really is. (Liz and Patty say yes.)

Maybe it only really hits Kid, how much he’s really changed, when he lends Blackstar some pajamas after a gnarly night fighting against kishin eggs. Blackstar refused until he shoved the soft, flawless cotton in the man’s hands—told him to shut up and What, so the great Blackstar can’t handle wearing neat pajamas? He’s only ever seen him in tank tops but the sleeves didn’t seem to be the source of Blackstar’s discomfort. Having a spontaneous sleepover with the others, having Patty cause chaos in the name of fun—their antics eventually result into a rip of threads that only Blackstar seemed to be startled by. He apologizes as he returns it the next day, early in the morning, as neatly folded and packed in a paperbag as he could. Maybe Tsubaki did the folding. Blackstar is shit at folding clothes or wearing stuff that weren’t creased to hell and back.

But by then, even if there’s a stitch on only one sleeve, Kid keeps it. Seeing it makes him smile. The damage was repaired with a star-shaped stitch—(how did he even do that?), but he doesn’t wear it yet. He tells himself it would drive him insane, knowing something is off, but he hangs it with his other clothes. He didn’t need to replace it this time; Blackstar fixed it, and it wasn’t ruined. It’s better.

#soul eater #blackstar #death the kid #deathstar #kidstar #idk #also has the others but i am lazy #neeks writes #….????#this was a random idea that got out of hand #LOL #leave it to me to be carried away #beep dee doo

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taylortruther · 1 month

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Did it feel like her songs about Joe were starting to get redundant? By the time Midnights came out I was surprised we were hearing another two songs about the breakup/make up period in the beginning, another song about the beginning when they were falling in love, another three songs about how the relationship is great if the world stays out of it, another song about the Afterglow I-thought-he-cheated moment, and another song about how it wasn't supposed to work but it did. It really struck me that the Joe parts of Midnights were dedicated to not giving us any kind of update or really new information. It was all either about their beginnings again or 'everything's perfect except for the media nothing to see here.' She found a couple new angles on it, like Mastermind, but she was mining the same ground she'd been sifting through for four albums already. At the time it struck me as odd that she was deliberately avoiding any real update, but I thought she was just committed to privacy and refused to go into any other part of their relationship that wasn't already known (which is entirely her right). But obviously it turned out to be much more complicated than that and the mysterious gap makes perfect sense now.

i noticed the beginning was really fertile ground for her, but it didn't really strike me as unusual or concerning. the 2016-2019 period of her life was HARD. it was obvious, to me, she was probably processing that stuff all the time because for her, it never went away.

additionally, folkmore's fictional narratives and midnights' reflections on the past still reflect her mental landscape at the time of writing (tolerate it, coney island, bejeweled, champagne problems, hoax say hello.) so i'd argue she was treading new ground and writing about some of their issues even if it wasn't strictly autobiographical.

plus, as super fans, i think we get caught in the minutiae and don't see the big picture. let's pull back and look at the story her albums told about their relationship, in stages:

2016: joe and taylor meet and fall in love 2017: reputation is released and, among other things, it's about joe being sexy and wonderful and not caring that she was "crazy" or cancelled 2019: masters situation happens also 2019: lover is released and it's about taylor recovering from the cancellation, fighting her demons, admitting she self-sabotages, but we also get songs implying they want to get married! makes sense, it's 2-3 years of dating now. we also, notably, get a song about her wanting to step back out into the world! 2020: pandemic! sorry, daylight! also 2020: folklore and evermore are released and are about, among other things!, how she fears her life is too big for joe to handle but she is still planning a future with him (peace, the lakes, which both feel more present to me.) makes sense, they have obviously talked marriage and KIDS, things are getting very real. but, to your point, evermore in particular reasserts that they were lucky to find each other in the beginning (clm, lss, evermore.) 2021: renegade discusses joe's shit - we now understand that he has his own struggles and clearly describes a very recent/present conflict ("timing") 2022: in midnights, we get songs about the early honeymoon phase (lavender haze), and about how he is still a respite from it all (sweet nothing, mentions a recent trip to wicklow.) 2023: ylm drops (written in dec 2021), we also get the alcott - both implying conflict and a couple trying or failing to reconnect. makes sense, it's been like 6-7 years! couples go through shit!

...no, this isn't the WHOLE story. but it feels like a satisfying one, and not one where she was simply recycling topics. to me anyway.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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Am I the asshole for giving a random guy my friend's phone number?

(🍫📲 to find later)

I (22 NB/F) was working one day at my place of work by going around and putting various items for sale where they belong in the store, as well as taking out the recycling. As I was making my way up to the front of the store so I could go to break, this older gentleman needed help reaching something. I helped him pull it down, but before I continued I was stopped by this other kid. He had a healthy-looking emo haircut and wardrobe, so I didn't think too much about it at the time. I kid you not, his eyes were big and wide like some kind of bishounen anime (idk if I spelled that right). Literally looked straight out of one almost, he reminded me of an excited puppy too.

"Hello! Do you need help with something?"

"Uh- actually, I was wondering if I could have your Snapchat?"

I was completely gobsmacked.

"Uh- I don't have a snap chat." A lie, but only because my snap is exclusively for my BFFEAE (Best Friend For Ever And Ever). I don't pass it out to my coworkers, family, or any other friends. Just her.

"Can I have your number then?"

Usually guys don't like. Spend this long on me. I'm Demiromantic and Asexual, and for those who don't know, that means I have no interest in having sex with anyone and have no interest in dating anyone but close friends. I never thought I'd be in this situation. Ever. The idea of anyone asking me out of the fucking blue for this is so far out of left field for my expectations that I was just staring awkwardly at him for a moment.

"... unless... age is an issue?"

"Ah- no, I am 22, but I'm just not interested in a relationship right now."

And it's the truth, honestly. My mental health has been a rollercoaster of emotions and schedules that I've been struggling to maintain for months. I did have one at the beginning of the year, but dropped it because I realized I couldn't trust my lover (he was extremely conservative, and I had to hide a lot of my life from him, but it was nice while it lasted honestly. Broke up on good terms).

"That's okay. Maybe we can just hang out sometime or something."

I'll be honest, I haven't been in good health to try a brand new friendship with a complete stranger either (I have horrid social anxiety to the point where I am basically a shit in hermit, and with everything going on in my life I don't think I can handle pushing my anxiety well).

Now, years ago, when me and my BFFEAE first moved to different states, we agreed that we could use each other's phone numbers to give out if we couldn't handle it or just wanted the guy to leave us alone. We have each other permission to pretend to be each other for it, that way they're more likely to listen thinking it's you saying "no thanks" instead of her friend saying "get off her back".

So in the span of ten seconds, because this kid was really sweet and I was still pretty shocked this was even happening, I was giving my friend's number to this sparkly-eyed kid (idk how old he was but I assumed he was younger than me, that's just my natural assumption honestly) and continued on with my work day. I told him a semi-common nickname of mine instead of my actual name bc my name is hard to spell and I didn't feel like putting much time into it.

Of course, immediately after I called my friend up and left her a message saying I passed her to this really sweet kid and to be kind with him (she's a protective mama bear kind of person) but that I simply wasn't interested and didn't have the right mindspace for a new anything.

Fast forward to when I get off work and check in with my friend, she and the kid had been chatting back and forth. Apparently he was into drugs (I have sensory issues and can't handle that kind of thing, so I feel like I've actually dodged a bullet) but was getting along really well with her otherwise. We got chatting about it when I confirmed that I'm not open to hanging out with him and that as long as she's kind and doesn't try to set me up with him or anything, I'm fine with her discussing whatever with him.

"I get it girl, we all get like that for a time. I'll keep it away from ya.

By the way, he thought you gave him a random number. He was SOO excited when I responded as you lol"

I felt absolutely sick and was horrified. I figured he would have been like "sick", but apparently he had been like "FUCK YEAH". I feel horrible for deceiving him like this, but I genuinely am in no spot where I can mentally handle picking up a new friendship, much less a romantic relationship. It doesn't help that he genuinely caught me off guard, and passing him her number was my first response to handling it.

Am I the asshole for doing this?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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yaut-jaknowit · 3 months

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A reader with a male Yautja, and a male reader whos a dumbass, who always does dumb shit, like throw themselves off a cliff (into water of course) and often wonders off or runs off to find shiny rocks in shit. Just to offer them as a gift to the Yautja. I can imagine the Yautja being angry at first too.. please ignore this if you don't wanna write it! I just really like your work. And I think it's really cool!

Curiosity Led A Path

Pairing: Vic'tao (Male Yautja) x Reader

Word Count: 1548

Summary: "If you're gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough," - Vic'tao.

Author Note: This is me though. I'm the dumbass who likes to run off without an care of my safety and find shiny rocks. I love gifting rocks to people.

Masterlist

Ao3

Out of a range of planets, this one was considered the safest in this system. Little to no predators waiting in the dark, dense forest that covered the majority of the land. Similar to Yautja Prime. Vic’tao has kept an eye out on this planet for some time.

It was you who begged and pleaded with the younger Yautja to have an adventure, explore! You are the first human, that you knew of, to be this far out in the universe. Of course, you would want to step off the confines of Uihoy’s ship and see what the universe offered. Just from the ships windows, you were enthralled at the sight. It never got old.

The atmosphere, to your luck, was close to the chemical make up of Earth. It did have a slightly higher content of Nitrogen, luckily for Vic’tao. Being on the ship, in their own made-up atmosphere, you’ve grown accustomed to the thinner air. This wasn’t any different to that.

With your arms spread wide, you twirled around and took in a deep breath of fresh air. It was better than the recycled air of the ship. On the way down the ship’s ramp, your sandal clipped your other shoe.

A yelp surpassed your lips. Luck was on your side. You were able to catch yourself just in time then spun around to face the approaching, unhurried pace of Vic. “See!” You threw your arms up. “I didn’t fall.”

The young blood snorted. “Don’t you oomans have a saying?” At first you furrowed both of your brows before shrugging. Now wasn’t the time to question the normal antics of one of your mates. You happily kept your path going down the ramp and stepped onto the planet.

Nothing jumped out at you. Not that you truly paid attention to. Not like Vic’tao would for your sake. No self-perseverance, at all. At times, Vic wants to put a damn leash on you. Anything to stop you from jumping off cliffs or somehow disappearing from his side. Then, he refocused on the spot you were… empty. He groaned while throwing his head back before trudging forward. The male wasn’t too terribly worried about anything harming you. He chose this place for a reason.

Through the unknown scents that littered the new area, he picked up yours easily and followed the windy path you took. From one new item to the next, you leaped around like a Xy.

By the time Vic’tao spotted your form through the thick foliage that filled the lands, you were yanking off your clothing. Concerned about this different action, he picked up his pace. Had you gotten something on your skin that was hurting you? That was the only logical reason he could come up with at the sight.

Then, you took a few steps back once you stripped down to your undergarments. A sight he was happy to soak in. With a burst of speed, you sprinted forward and jumped. “Geronimo!” you shouted with glee.

At first, he thought nothing of it until your form disappeared over a ledge. Instinct drove him to scramble forward, shoving past the plants, nearly going on all fours. Vic raced to where he last saw you. Without even any hesitation, he launched himself after you.

Finally, he took in the sight of water at the bottom of the cliff. A waterfall pouring gallons down into the lake. Your form hit the water first with a large splash. Vic landed close by and was quick to surface.

Now, in the cool water, you giggled and pumped your arms high above your head. Without your arms, you immediately sunk before your head and had to swim back up to breath. A bright smile glowed on your face.

A few feet from you treaded Vic’tao. “Oh, hey!” you greeted and swam over to him. “Didn’t know you had followed me.”

But, he kept silent. There were a swirling of emotions in his bright, yellow eyes. He reached with both of his hands and grasped the side of your head. Mindfully, he’s able to keep himself up and leaned in. “Don’t ever do that again,” he growled, each word emphasized carefully.

You immediately started to pout. “Come on, lighten up, Vicy! It was safe. It was getting hot too,” you complained and attempted to swim backwards. Vic’tao kept a steel grip on you so you couldn’t dare try to get away from his scolding. “Don’t you enjoy swimming with me?”

By Paya’s will, if you didn’t look so damn adorable pouting, he would drag you back up the cliff. He huffed instead and shifted to float on his back, letting you rest on his broad chest.

Happily, you snuggled against him. “See, told you so.” He flicked your side with a grunt. “Hey, ow. Be nice!” You splashed water at Vic in return. The male simply just rotated and dragged you under the water.

He kept you under the surface for a few short seconds before rolling back over. You sputtered and shook your head, water droplets flinging everywhere.

Now, sitting up on his abdomen, you glared down at him and crossed your arms. “You just solidified what I stated earlier.” Vic’tao chuckled and allowed you stayed there as he floated across the water for the time being. He wouldn’t let you know but this was comfortable and relaxing. His days as a hunter were usually filled with danger and death. To finally kick back with one of his mates. A dream come true.

As the day dwindled down, you climbed out of the lake by yourself. “Oh, that relaxing,” you muttered to yourself and began walking the shoreline.

Still in the water, Vic’tao kept both of his eyes on you. This may be a safe planet but you, oh you, would find something to hurt yourself on. To this day, the male doesn’t know how oomans have survived so long on their planet without just dying off from their stupidity! He grunted and observed your form.

You walked along the water, head down and scanning for anything interesting. A soft tune hummed from the back of your throat, mindlessly toeing the shoreline.

Along the way, you stopped and spotted a rock that shined brightly through the water. You sat down on your haunches and picked it up. The colors shifted between an emerald green, royal purple, and a navy blue in the sun’s light. You made a high-pitched noise quietly to yourself. This was perfect!

The path continued until you made it to the rock wall behind the gushing waterfall. An idea came to mind. The new rock was carefully pinched between your teeth. From there, you started to climb the wall, just moving to the right to under water.

A perfect ledge stuck out enough for you to sit down on. Carefully, you did so. The beauty and serenity of this place made you want to live here. Or at least visit every once in a while. Get away from the hustle and bustle that both hunters endured while staying in a mediocrely sized ship. It’s not too terribly small… but you would prefer times like this to make the whole situation better.

“Vic?” you called out, voice slightly drown out from the crashing water.

“Yes?” he answered back, floating over to the side to peak around the waterfall at your relaxing form. His voice was able to come through clearly now.

The rock fell from your mouth and into your hands. “Do you think Uihoy will let us come here more often? It’s really pretty here,” you commented and hide the rock hopefully in time. Maybe the keen predator didn’t notice it.

Vic’tao shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, probably. That Yautja has gone soft for you.” You smiled at the thought then glancing over at his relaxed form.

“And you,” you cooed. All you got in response was a huff. “It’s true. It took the two of us together wear that hardened warrior down.” Vic’tao grunted then swam over to you, partially beaching himself on the rocks below you. Enough to keep his waist and below un the water but able to reach you.

“If you say so, little hunter.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Now, what is it you hold?” Damn it! He had saw.

A pout overtook your features. “You weren’t supposed to see!” Then you relented and offered the rock to him. With the shroud of shadows from the cliffside, the sun wasn’t able to shine on it. Even without any direct light, it was beautiful, sparkling. “I found this for you.”

“Oh my,” he muttered and plucked from your palm with his claws. “Now, this is a unique sight. I’ve never seen something shine like this before.” The yellow and blue male brought it close to his yellow eyes to inspect it.

Pride filled your veins. This may be one of many gifts you’ve given, but you still enjoyed sharing things you’ve found.

This was part of the reason you enjoyed going planeside with them. To go on an adventure was one thing but to find things along the way and gift said items to either of your mates was another. You couldn’t wait for days this to happen.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #vic'tao

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 2 months

Text

hi. alot is happening. bumming off wifi rn. i'm copy/pasting someone from a doc i started in libra office with no internet.

A LOT IS HAPPENING BEHIND THE SCENES AND I’M KEEPING TRACK.

The landlady has made excuses to not give us back the security deposit. She keeps having Dave’s boss call him in a foul mood will all kind of threats and accusations of things we supposedly broke/ruined.

1.) On our first night out of there she has already threatened to call the cops on us by claiming that we filled the house with perfume before we left so it’ll hurt her. What happened was we cleaned it because she demanded that it was clean like it supposedly was when we moved in(it wasn’t clean when we moved in). We used that Meyers shit, which has a pretty muted scent and is supposed to be safe for the environment. And it was just basic sweeping, dusting, and then doing up the ktichen and bathroom just to be safe.

2.) Today she has claimed that we filled the washing machine with motor oil to ruin it as punishment before we left. She swears the whole house smells of oil, after screaming about it smelling like too much perfume that was supposedly used to hurt her breathing. Mind you, mom is an asthmatic so we can’t use things with strong scents because it will fuck her up. If we bought oil, it would be for the van cuz that shit is expensive and we wouldn’t be wasting it on HER of all people.

By now, Dave’s boss is aware that she cannot legally withold the deposit and that she’s trying to use the fact that Dave is a dumbass, against him. Mom however, knows the laws, and the lease said nothing about not using scented cleaners OR perfumes, and she does not have a legit reason to not give us the $1600 back. If she took it to court it would not hold. She has to make an itemized list of her claims, Dave has to acknowledge whether or not they are true, and then it goes to court.

fyi I took videos of everything in the house. Bethy’s Room, Mom’s Room, Bathroom, Living Room, Dining Room, Kitchen. All items that were hers, such as the Oven, Fridge, Washer, Dryer, Toilet, Sinks,Tub/Shower, random Recycle Bin, and Wall Hangings. Inside and Out. All details were recorded before we left. I even recorded us leaving at exactly 11:23 PM Feb 15th 2024, and recorded turning the light off.

Let’s see if she comes up with something else tomorrow. ~5:22 PM Feb, 17th 2024

3.)

Feb, 21st 2024:

I’ve just been informed by Bethy that Dave has gone on to further embarrass us. He insists that he’s got all these racing friends(and tbf they promised to help fund a big event to raise money for us 2 years ago, and then ghosted him AND Bethy when they asked what they had to do to help) who will help and has been harassing them for money.

One of them, an active dirt racer, posted a screenshot with Dave’s full name in a text convo begging for cash. And then half a dozen other dirt racers, active and retired, shared that he’s been hitting them up for money too. How he was in people’s posts about random shit beggn for money and then how he got swindled under his own comment by someone mocking him and posting the same thing he did with a small wording change about leaving an abusive house and Dave not only fell for it but then said he’d try to help them.

And now the greater dirt racing community is aware of this and are mocking him and us and some are making inquiries about Bethy’s well-being in connection to Dave. And their wives are having things to say about how he’s a bad parent and she should be taken away from him.

And I need to remind everyone that this is to pay off a blackmailer who is demanding $300 a week now. Bethy got a bit more info out of him on that and it apparently involves a photo. And there are only 2 types of photos that can get him in legal trouble(since he believes he CAN go to jail over this). So either he sent an unsolicited dick pic, which won’t receive much punishment cuz he’s a man who LOOKS white enough. OR it’s child p0rn, and he’s never given that vibe out of everything fucked up with him so I’m not exactly sure.

But he walks around demanding to know ‘did anyone give us money yet’ and people have donated to the GFM and Mealtrain, and I’ve earned about $100 on Ko-Fi recently, and we haven’t told him cuz he won’t use it for anything good.

He’s been bumming extra money off his boss despite knowing that the van need fixing, we need hot water and heat, and several other problems that need fixing ASAP. And his boss is asking questions and is getting nastier and nastier cuz he doesn’t trust Dave’s intentions and shitty lying.

There is no lease. The owner of this house knows Dave's boss and they supposedly came to an agreement that so long as Dave fixes up this house, we can stay here in the mean time for free. They supposedly made an agreement that Dave's boss will buy everything we need to fix the house up and then send all the receipts to the friend who will then pay him back.

And now Dave's boss is getting so fed up with Dave and his wishy-washy behavior and begging for all this money all the time that he does not earn, that he is now saying he never made any such promises. And he refuses to contact the owner of this house at all. There is no recording. No contract. No signatures. No proof that such a discussion went down at all. It is Dave’s word(unreliable) against the boss’(the one with money and power here) word.

Dave has no way to contact the owner either. Cuz he didn’t think that was necessary apparently. He was perfectly fine making his boss the go-between until his boss got angry.

So our ability to even stay here is hanging in the balance.

Can’t wait to see what other bad news I’m gonna find out.

#poverty

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krirebr · 4 months

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For the IKISKB verse: what if Curtis was the celebrity (maybe an actor) and Reader was his PA or publicist? How would that change the dynamic?

Oh, I love this question! The short little thing I came up with has real ch 1 of IKISKB vibes. I went with Actor (action star) and PA. I hope you like it and it answers your question!

Just Part of the Process

Pairing: Actor!Curtis Everett x PA!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, references to excessive drinking, adult themes, angst

You sat at the kitchen island on your laptop, going through emails and updating Curtis’s schedule. Schedule Tetris was your superpower, moving things around to make sure everything fit just so. It was one of the reasons he’d kept you around the last two years. One of many, you hoped.

It was about 1 PM when Curtis stumbled down from his bedroom and entered the kitchen. He went straight to the fridge, pulling out one of the fancy, high-electrolyte hangover cures you kept stocked. He pounded it quickly, recycling the container, and then finally looked at you. “Oh hey. How long have you been here?” he asked, his voice gritty with the remnants of sleep and whiskey.

“A few hours,” you said quietly. “I put your drycleaning in the downstairs closet. I didn’t want to wake you up. Now, I’m just working on your schedule.”

He grimaced. “Please tell me I’m clear today.”

You shook your head. “Your trainer will be here in half an hour.”

“Fucking shit,” he muttered and grabbed another drink out of the fridge.

You almost reminded him that his trainer was going to be pissed at him for being hungover, as Curtis was supposed to be bulking up for his next movie, but you didn’t need to bother. He knew.

“Did you have a good night?” you asked, instead.

“No,” he said in almost a growl. Shit, it was one of those nights. “Anything online?”

“I haven’t checked yet,” you said, carefully. Wondering what was on the gossip blogs was a bad sign. “Anything in particular I should be looking for?”

He shrugged. “I don’t–” he started, then looked away from you. “I don’t really remember clearly, but I feel like there might be something.” Oh, double shit. It was a really bad night, then.

This wasn’t fully out of the ordinary. Known as America’s Bad Boy by the tabloids and gossip blogs, it wasn’t uncommon to see stories about him insulting someone outside of a club, smashing a paparazzo's camera on the ground, loving and leaving some starlet. So you’d been surprised when you first met him to find that he was actually very quiet, soft-spoken when he did speak, respectful of your time, and appreciative of your effort. He was the third actor you’d PA’d for and by far the easiest to get along with.

But lately, he’d seemed increasingly tired and maybe a little – sad? He’d been going out even more than usual, blowing off prep for his next movie – which wasn’t like him at all, talking to you, or anyone, even less than normal. You’d prided yourself on being a help to him, knowing how to take care of him, but this? You didn’t know what to do about this.

The other complicating factor was the pesky feelings you’d developed over the past two years. You’d always known he was hot. He was an action star, that was part of the job. But up close and personal, you appreciated how beautiful he was. How kind. How thoughtful. How gentle. You were in love with him and you had been for a long time.

“Well,” you said, trying not to show your concern too plainly, “I’ll take a look and let you know what I find.”

He nodded absently, still looking away from you. You gave yourself a moment to take him in. He was a little hunched over, his skin paler than usual, his eyes a little sunken. You sighed, knowing you shouldn’t do it. He was an adult, he could face the consequences of his actions. But. You sighed, again. “I’ll call your trainer, and let him know you’ve come down with something. But that just means he’ll kick your ass even harder next time.”

You half-expected him to respond with a shit-eating grin or a sheepish smile. Instead, he looked at you very seriously. “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t deserve you.” You just sort of blinked at that, having no idea what to say. He turned back towards the stairs. “I’m going back to bed, wake me up if you need anything.”

He was almost to the staircase when you were finally able to turn your swirling thoughts into words. “Curtis,” you called out to him. He stopped and turned to look at you. “Are you ok?”

It was then that he shot you a cocky grin. You were a little stunned by the degree to which it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be ok?” he asked, then spun back around on his heel and trudged up the stairs, leaving you to worry alone in his kitchen.

Join my Krismas Party!

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @before-we-get-started @veltana @andydrysdalerogers @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whosana-maria @dancer3205 @ijustneedpopcorn @mrsevans90 @pekusofixus @i-can-do-this-all-dayy

#krismas party #ask kris #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett #snowpiercer #actor au #drabble #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #i know i should know better #what if #kris wrote something

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

Text

You can say a lot of bad things about the humble postal system. It’s slow, it’s expensive, and the folks who work hard to make sure you get your bills and junk mail could be a little more chipper about it. Watch your tongue, though, because the postal system does something truly glorious: it provides insanely clapped-out, mega-mileage postal vans at auction.

That’s right. Targeted for criticism by a variety of bad actors, miscreants, contrarians, and folks grumpy that they didn’t get what they wanted in life, the government is forced to sell off perfectly good vehicles just because they’re a little unsafe, in the hopes of recouping some money that they can then spend on new, soulless postal vans. Every farmer for miles around probably has one or two of these things in their back forty. This is because even after the ancient parcel vans of my youth stopped being useful for luxuries like “providing heat,” you can still throw a pregnant sheep in the back, full-throttle that shit all the way to the property line, and be pretty sure that it will make the return trip even if you haven’t changed the oil since Mulroney.

Part of this is because these vehicles are supremely engineered for their purpose. Like sharks, they have exactly the ideal parts required for the job they are meant to do, and no luxuries like air conditioning, seven-speaker surround sound stereos, ABS, or chairs with padding. Sure, they devour fuel, but that’s what you get when you use technology from the Bronze Age to develop an engine that wears like the mountains. Where did such a glorious piece of lost technology come from, in our current era where smartphones last twelve minutes and brand-new microwaves come with a sticker telling you what number to phone in order to safely recycle them?

Once upon a time, the government used to have demands of the manufacturers from which they were ordering several million vans. They could insist that these vans run forever, never need to be maintained, and double as cover in the event of a semi-automatic gun fight. It would cost a little bit extra, this overbuilding, but this was justifiable: we are the government, after all, and if we didn’t ask them to do their job, they’d just rip us off. Now, not so much. In the pursuit of business efficiency, the government just treats themselves as another boring consumer. Buy the same Ford Transit or German-made electric conversion van as everyone else. Did it break down because it’s not meant to be driven one point eight million kilometers in a single year by a suicidal Newfoundlander who doesn’t understand enough English to comprehend the concept of “keep the engine below 9,000 rpm?” Buy another.

There’s still time left to get a van like this of your very own. Together, we will hold onto these glorious artifacts of a bygone era, and ideally take them down to the track together. Won’t the track marshals be pissed when we clock a thirty-six second pass, and stop halfway through to refill the tank.

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very-feral-lesbian · 1 year

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this is a part two to this post, can be read solo but i recommend reading this first.

the party is in full swing. their friends surrounding them, most of them set up in the living from and a smaller more introverted group gathered in the dining room.

steve never knew what a good community could truly do for him as living in hawkins was clearly not a place where someone like steve could thrive.

he hid for so long, but here in boston its so different. they have this amazing group of friends, 90% of which are like him and eddie. and the other 10% support them endlessly.

he looks around and sees robin and nancy curled up on a chair in the corner, talking to their friend jasmine who is sitting on the floor, the two of them with wide smiles. because him and her have telepathy, robin looks over at him them. he throws her a quick wink.

he can hear david's laugh from the other room and can smell the bouquet of flowers sitting on the coffee table that andrew brought.

he can feel the slight hint of eddie's bare skin between his jeans and his shirt where steve's hand it resting.

steve has friends. steve has a loving partner. steve is content.

steve also has his ex-best friend sitting on the other side of couch with whom he has not spoken yet.

they exchanged pleasantries, and him and eddie have chatted with michael plenty. michael was a handsome guy. probably late 20s/early 30s, dirty blonde hair with a middle part, and generic clothes aside from the round glasses on his face; steve could appreciate that. he wasn't steve's taste but he could tell he was an objectively attractive person.

he and tommy made an attractive couple, the two of them seemingly comfortable with each other. steve was happy for tommy, even though their friendship didn't end on good terms, he was glad tommy found himself.

steve must have been in his own head for a while as he just felt eddie poking him where he sat to his left, "babe? you okay?"

steve smiled, "yeah yeah im good," he leaned into kiss the juncture of eddies jaw.

"alright, good," eddie smiled back at him and batted his lashes, "would you be a doll and toss some of the beer bottles in the recycle?"

"yeap."

eddie smiled again, "love youuuuu."

steve started gathering the bottles on the coffee table, quickly finding that there were too many bottles for him to take at once. steve just shrugged it off and planned to make another trip back up to the apartment from the recycle bin until he heard a voice perk up, "here, i'll help."

it was tommy, he was picking up the remaining bottles.

"ok, uh- thanks."

steve and tommy walked out of the apartment making their way down the few flights of stairs into the alley with the recycle bin. it was quiet, neither of them even attempting to make small talk.

but being around eddie for the last decade has made him uncomfortable with silence, "so uh, how'd you meet michael?"

they walked side by side by side, opening and shutting the lid of the bin, disposing of the bottles, "we met in college, he was in my american archaeology class my junior year. we were friends for a while and started dating like three years ago."

steve nodded, "oh that's nice, he seems like a good guy."

there was a lull again. they walked up the stairs, and as they were making their way up the last flight tommy speaks up, "hey listen steve, i know its too little too late and it was over a decade ago, but i just wanted to say that i'm really sorry about all the shit i did while we were friends. i know it doesn't mean much but i was just not happy with myself so i uh- took it out on you and that was shitty so i'm, yeah i'm sorry."

they had stalled on the landing of the staircase right outside of his and eddie's apartment.

steve fully did not expect an apology from tommy. honestly he had mostly forgotten about him, he hadn't been back to hawkins in four years since wayne officially moved to rural new york.

he had heard from the grapevine that tommy was living down in texas but really he had no connection to him or that part of his life anymore. he never expected to speak to him again, let alone apologize for what happened.

steve clapped him on the shoulder, "it's all good man. not exactly like i was innocent either, i was a dick back then too. hell high school steve would flip if.." he gestured his head in the direction of their apartment.

they both understood what steve meant.

"yeah me neither, pretty sure high school me would beat up current me."

they both laughed, the air lighter than before.

there was a respite in the conversation before tommy piped back up, "you know its actually funny uhh, looking back I'm pretty sure i had a crush on you back then."

huh.

that might have been even more unexpected than the apology, "really? that's uhhhh, wow."

tommy laughed lightly, "yeah i think all that shit with billy our senior year really threw me for a loop and it was the first time i really started thinking about you know," steve does know, "and i uh- fucking hated myself for it so that's why i lashed out like that."

steve gets it and he says as much, "yeah i understand that. when i was first figuring my shit out, it was right when me and eddie became friends so i pushed him away at first. then you know, we kissed for the first time and i had this moment where i was like 'oh i don't hate him, im in love with him' and here we are eleven years later."

"yeah it's hard but i'm happy for you steve, you seem really happy."

steve glanced over at the door of their apartment, he can hear the faint noise of an electric guitar being played to the tune of iron man by black sabbath. pre-eddie, steve never would have believed he could recognize a single black sabbath song, let alone from outside of an apartment with the door muffling most of the intricacies of the song.

how could steve not be happy? he has more than he could have imagined at 31.

he lived within walking distance to his best friend in the entire world. he has a group of friends who are perfect and lovely. he lives in a beautiful city. he has a great job. and he's in a more-than-a-decades-long relationship with the love of his life.

"yeah, i really am."

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