#when something like That has been occasionally popping up in your mind the past few days

[meowstix]

on one hand "can you name a single object in this image" is probably the main thing that sparked my fascination with ai-generated stuff and i am grateful for that but also. i wish i could not only permanently wipe that image from my brain but guarantee that i never had to see it again

#genuinely out of everything i've seen both in real life and on the internet #NOTHING has made me feel sick to my stomach in the same way as that damn image #and every time i remember it i'm just. ''oh god what if i happen to see it again what if i decided to actively seek it out #and immediately regret it'' and like i mean. obviously i've been eating #but do you know how much harder it is to get yourself to do that sometimes #when something like That has been occasionally popping up in your mind the past few days #waugh. if my tags haven't been enough. if you don't know what i'm talking about look it up at your own risk #unless you're familiar with horrific ai-generated imagery i can almost guarantee it's like nothing else you've ever seen before #and i don't mean like the usual ai stuff i mean like. the REAL freaky shit #rat chat

[fangswbenefits]

Tracking

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Breeding kink. Period talk. Miguel going all scientific and keeping track of fertility windows for maximum efficacy. Dry humping. Inspired by this ask.

Miguel was in a bad mood that afternoon. You could see it coming a mile off, because having spent that much time around him over the past years had revealed many warning signs.

The circular platform was lowered all the way down to the floor by the time you walked past the door.

Miguel not turning to acknowledge your presence was warning sign number one.

You strode up to it warily, as if expecting him to explode at any given moment. Trying to lighten the mood, you tip toed to place a sweet kiss to his cheek.

He grumbled in response.

Warning sign number two.

His eyes were fixed on the multiple of screen sprawled in a half-moon in front of him, occasionally tapping and moving them around when needed.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you teased.

“I’m nearly done here.”

“Hello to you, too, grumpy,” you nudged his arm with a smile.

Miguel merely nodded.

Warning sign number three.

At this point, you figured something was definitely going on.

“What’s up?”

“Hmm?”

You sighed. “You look and sound off.”

He tapped on a screen to his left. “You’re on your period.”

“What?”

Usually, that sort of remark would earn any man a slap at worst or a ‘fuck you’ at best. There was no shortage of men who would use women’s hormones as an easy way to deflect their feelings.

But there was something in Miguel’s tone that resembled… disappointment?

He scowled deeply, turning to face you. “You’re not pregnant.”

You stared at him for a long time, before bursting into laughter. “Is that why you’re all grumpy?”

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, his scowl deepening.

You stopped at once. “Wait… how would you know that?”

He returned his attention to the hovering screens in front of him. “Know what?”

“That I’m on my period?” you asked, suspicion rising inside you. “And I still haven’t gotten it, by the way.”

And just like that, Miguel’s crimson eyes were on you expectantly. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

You folded your arms while tapping your foot lightly. “No. You answer me first.”

Miguel knew better than to antagonise you, especially now that you had information that interested him.

Dragging his index finger across the panel, you saw a file pop up with your name. That didn’t seem odd at all. Every spider in Nueva York was required to have one that displayed several strategic details as well as bio data that was fed by the dimensional travel watch. Your heart rate was at a steady 67 beats per minute.

“What about it?”

He tapped on a second tab that read ‘Fertility’.

Nothing could have prepared you for the influx of information you were about to be bombarded with.

And what it concerned.

July 4th

Cycle day 1 - low chance of pregnancy

Fertility window - 12 to 18

Ovulation day - 17 (high chances of pregnancy)

“You’re tracking my period?!” you snapped in utter disbelief.

“I’m tracking your fertility window.”

You glared at him. “How is that any different?”

“It’s not. Just nomenclature,” he shrugged casually as if talking about the change of weather outside.

You shot Miguel a death glare, before shoving him to the side, gaining full access to the flickering orange screen. The data collected went back as far as three months ago.

Miguel had been tracking your fertility window for months now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shifted to stand behind you, easily towering with his impressive height. “It’s my responsibility to get you pregnant.”

Your eyes widened partially in disbelief, but mostly at the realisation that this shouldn’t be a shocking revelation.

Miguel had to be in control at all times. It was embedded in his genetic code. A few months ago you had casually joked that you wouldn’t mind having a child soon.

It seemed that it was all the motivation he needed to begin his quest.

Now it made perfect sense why he had been so insistent on always cumming inside you. You just didn’t think he would be this dedicated.

Joke’s on you.

“But it seems the data is wrong,” he said lowly, arms circling around you to have his hands atop yours on the keyboard. “You can edit it,” he whispered, pressing himself fully against you.

The added pressure pushed your lower half gently against the control table, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“Are you trying to seduce me, so I ignore all of this?” you whispered, enjoying how the proximity was having a noticeable effect on his cock.

He rolled against you slowly. “Me? Of course not.”

His fingers intertwined with yours, and you watched your heart rate on the screen soar to 78 beats per minutes.

You fought back a whimper, as he was nipping at your neck, fangs lightly poking at sensitive skin. You could feel the hard print of his cock pressed against the curve of your ass, and as you bucked your hips instinctively, you felt his own meet you halfway, setting a slow rhythm.

90 beats per minute.

“Let me get a blood sample so I can test out,” he said, his erection pressed against your ass.

“Someone really wants to be a dad,” you said with a teasing smile.

99 beats per minute.

His other hand came to grip your jaw, tilting your head until you met his eyes. “I need you to get pregnant.”

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants as he kept humping you at a steady and torturous pace.

“You mean… you need to breed me, right?”

109 beats per minute.

His eyeds widened lightly and he thrusted harshly into you, causing a jolt of pleasure to travel all the way down to your clit. “That’s the same thing, cariño.”

You gave him a knowing smile. “Nomenclature and all that.”

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n

[mncxbe]

W.oi

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: dazai feels nostalgic/ fluff?

since it's been requested, I wrote a little something for this♡

It's been a few months since you joined the Ada and until today Dazai has managed to keep you arm's length. Strangely enough, it was harder than he expected.

Despite the agonizing guilt you stirred up in him, the brunette found himself oddly drawn to you. Maybe it was your kind smile or the way you carried yourself, or maybe you just reminded him of Oda. Yes, everything about you was a painful reminder of his past, of what he'd done and yet, he allowed himself to get a little bit closer to you.

Oh, and how bitterly he regretted it. A friendly chat here, a mission together there, sharing a drink after work one night- they all led to that moment, to the day you finally discovered his secrets.

It was around 6 p.m and he was about to leave the office when you suddenly popped up behind him.

"Hi Dazai, got any plans tonight?" you asked with that sweet smile of yours that got his head spinning.

"Nothing in particular" he replied nonchalantly.

You beamed, sliding an arm under his "Great then, we're going out for a drink"

Before he got a chance to protest you marched out of the building, dragging him alongside you. Soon enough you made it to your destination, a cozy little underground pub with burnt red brick walls and yellowing rockstar posters, remnants of a decades-old era in Yokohama.

Taking a seat on one of the empty seats at the bar you ordered two glasses of whiskey on ice. The tension between you grew almost palpable with each minute that passed. As you focused your gaze on the amber liquid in the glass your colleague did his best to push the racing thoughts in the back of his mind.

"So..." you eventually spoke up, sliding your thumb over the brim of your glass "I wanted to talk to you about something"

Dipping your hand in the pocket of your coat you procured a folded picture. Dazai's heart dropped as he watched you unfold it, his stomach churning; it was the photo he'd taken at Lupin with Odasaku and Ango all those years ago.

For a few moments you both remained silent as he fumbled for words. "Look, I can explain" he began but you immediately cut him off.

"No, Dazai, you don't need to explain anything. You never mentioned knowing him so I assume you didn't wanna talk about it. I just wanna know one thing."

The man nodded weakly, averting his gaze; he couldn't bear facing you.

"You see, my brother never opened up to me about what he was doing at work. I knew he was involved with some... questionable people, but I've always thought he was a good person." You took a deep breath in and leaned closer, trying to get him to look at you. "I just wanna know what kind of person he really was."

Finally meeting your gaze, Dazai spoke in a weak voice "He was my closest friend, the kindest person I've ever known..." Once those words left his lips he couldn't stop talking; memories resurfaced, spilling from him like news on the radio. You listened carefully to his speech, punctuated only by occasional sighs and sips from his glass, and nodded.

He told you everything, from the day they met and how their friendship progressed, to the conflict with Mimic that led to his untimely death.

"He had this ideal, you know, never to kill anyone. He wanted to write a book at some point and thought that murderers had no right to talk or write about life, to create something beautiful with hands that bear the blood of other people." Raising the glass to his lips, Dazai downed the rest of his drink, the alcohol burning the back of his throat as he swallowed.

"I see... He does sound like a wonderful person" A faint smile tugged at your lips "Thanks for telling me everything"

"No problem. It was good to finally talk to someone about it. I would appreciate if you didn't mention this to the others tho"

You gave him a reassuring nod, holding your little finger out in front of him. "I won't, Dazai. Pinky promise. "

The brunette chuckled, locking his finger with yours as he held your gaze. "I'll trust you on that and please, call me Osamu from now on"

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd dazai #dazai bsd #dazai osamu #dazai x reader

[tenderlady]

Hi there! A while ago, you said in your tags to this post that you believe David Lynch would be one of the best suited directors for making a movie about the Beatles. What can I say, I've been thinking about this ever since, vaguely-yet-passionately agreeing, without putting my thoughts into actual sentences...Would you mind elaborating?

You ever get an ask so good you have to break out your laptop to type up your thoughts with greater alacrity?

My friends and I have this concept that we call "trapdoors," which are basically concepts or things that, if brought up in conversation, will cause whoever is talking to you to tumble into an abyss of information that you are duty-bound to provide. Beatles biopics happen to be one of mine, so if you would like to join me in the abyss, the trapdoor is under the cut.

I actually have a few working directors that I think would do a great job with a Beatles movie, including Sofia Coppola, Peter Greenaway, Park Chan-wook, and even, potentially, Martin Scorsese. But the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that the best-suited director working today for making a Beatles movie is actually David Lynch.

I think a lot of this ultimately comes down to what you want from a Beatles biopic, and what you haven't liked about Beatles movies in the past. For me, I'm tired of Beatles-biopic-as-hagiography and I want more stories that approach them as fully-rounded people. And one thing that is very specific to me personally is that I'm interested in the moments when the Beatles story has occasionally tilted toward the magical and mysterious, for lack of better phrasing. So an ideal Beatles biopic, for me, would be one that is dedicated to showing the Beatles themselves as holistic human beings and doesn't shy away from showcasing their bad behavior, but also one that is concerned with portraying those magical realist elements that I find so fascinating.

Enter David Lynch. Lynch has a well-documented fascination with the pop culture of the mid-20th century and an interestingly sumptuous eye toward production design (I'm thinking about the ambiguously midcentury setting of Blue Velvet in particular here), so I think at the bare minimum, if he were to make a Beatles movie, it would look right. But I'm more interested in Lynch's directorial choices and pet themes than I am in how his films look.

Much of his work is concerned with fame, be it the attainment of it or what it means to have it (ex: Mulholland Drive, Inland Empire), and also with the production of art and what it does to our psyches to create (ditto the above examples). These themes would obviously come to bear in any serious film about the Beatles, but I think David Lynch has historically had interesting things to say about these topics.

Lynch's films (and work in general) often veer into horror in their sudden depictions of graphic violence and sexuality, but that would actually be a more realistic depiction of the Beatles' history than most of what we've gotten. I think a gritty, Wild at Heart-style Lynch movie about Hamburg could be very fun. The leather and the 50s and the weird sex stuff of all of it is very Lynch, but all very true to the reality of what the Beatles' lives were like. Their story is full of these seemingly random spurts of violence (Stu getting kicked in the head, the Bob Wooler incident, the cherry bomb at the concert, John's murder, George's stabbing, just to name a few), to the point where reading about them can feel occasionally Lynchian in itself.

For me, though, the biggest draw of having a Lynch-directed Beatles movie is what Lynch is best known for, which is that dream-(or nightmare) feeling that so much of his work has. Something that drew me to the Beatles as an overeducated adult with lots of music listening behind me now is this strange sense of the mystical that hangs over so much of the Beatles narrative. The story of Paul's premonition of the dream with the gold coins, the John and Paul being mirror images of each other, people in the Beatles circle being visited by dead loved ones in their dreams, John and Paul claiming to have SHARED dreams, the whole Emperor of Eternity thing; like I could go on and on and on. These stories are all so fascinating, but often get underexplored in the (legitimately) very rich text of the Beatles story, so I get it, but I also know that Lynch would see these moments and do something really fucking cool with them.

Primarily, I see a Lynch-directed Beatles biopic going one of three ways: a Blue Velvet-style gothic set during the Beatlemania years about a naive black-Irish twink biting off more than he can chew in the pursuit of fame. David Lynch loves doubles and doppelganger imagery (Mulholland Drive, Twin Peaks, Inland Empire....), so I think he would get a lot of mileage out of the matching Beatle suits and haircuts and all the merch with their likenesses on it. I also want to see some real horror mined out of the hiding in meat vans and getting mauled by girls with scissors trying to cut off your hair for relics. Shit is crazy.

Option two would be a Mulholland Drive-style psychological horror set during the height of the Beatles' Swinging London decadence, like around 1967, potentially including India. It would definitely 100% include the Emperor of Eternity acid trip and would be primarily focused on the strange relationship and identity sublimation between John and Paul. Again, Mulholland Drive-style. Gayest potential option imo.

The last option, and the one that makes the most sense with where Lynch is in his career rn, is a Twin Peaks: The Return-style meditation on nostalgia and memory and time. I think this one would probably be getting a little too close to the present day to be feasible, but I think a lot could be done with the idea of current-day Granddude Paul constantly seeing reproductions of his own younger self and dead friends and lovers everywhere he goes. As much as I love Now & Then, the whole thing does how a weird techno-gothic, Black Mirror sheen to it, one that I think Lynch would recognize and have something to say about. Would this make Paul Coop and John Laura Palmer? Hard to say and much to unpack there, but still.

Regardless: I think David Lynch is the only one out there doing it in a weird, fucked-up way that the Beatles would deserve. (Also he literally got into transcendental meditation because of the Maharishi, so there's definitely some six-degrees-of-Beatles happening there lmao)

If you read all of this, thank you, and I'm sorry, and here is a picture of Kyle MacLachlan as Paul from the David Lynch Beatles biopic that is currently screening in my heart for your trouble

#thanks for the question love!! #i hope this was even remotely close to what you were looking for!!! #i have Much To Say on this topic lmao #lynchian beatles

[emelinstriker]

First off, I'm really sorry about everything that's been happening around your blog. This AU has been such a huge source of comfort for me in my everyday life, and it pains me to see jerks with nothing better to do than to ruin the happiness of others affect this blog so much. However, on a different note, if you would be so kind as to let me tell you about a daydream I had about your AU, that would be just the most!

So, I was revisiting some old fandoms of mine, and I suppose those began mixing with the ESAU at some point. You know the song "Drift Away" from Steven Universe? I was thinking about how sad it was when the ESAU popped into my mind and OH BOY. I thought about this little scenario! (I apologize for the poor writing):

One of the many Master reincarnations that stuck with Macaque was the long gone Master *Gertrude. It wasn't because she led an interesting life or had special affections for him, but rather that she abandoned him. Fed up with him for being the most affectionate and always in her space, she brought him out into a field. Alone. She smiled and hugged him, something Macaque couldn't have recalled her ever doing towards him in the past, before telling him to stand still in the open field and not to move until she came back. Macaque had wanted to ask her questions about where she was going when she gave him her next and final command, to not ask her questions. With that, she left, and Macaque sensed a feeling of strong joy coming from her and, well, if his Master was happy, than he was overjoyed! And so he waited. Minutes passed by, then hours, then days and a week. And before Macaque knew it, months had gone by, follows by years. Years of standing and waiting for his Master to come back with him, with nothing but the occasional bird or rabbit passing by, which he would snatch up and eat to feed himself and keep himself busy. But Macaque couldn't understand the situation, couldn't understand why any of this was happening, until one day when he saw the other champions coming his way. By this point, the grass in the field was overgrown and the flowers had withered. A few vines reached around Macaque, keeping him planted down to the Earth, as if it was reclaiming him. His fur was filthy and unkempt and he had dark circles around his eyes because it was hard to sleep standing up, in the open, alone. Macaque had watched as his brother and the other champions approached him, Wukong coming forward in swift strides to help pull off the greenery growing on him and hugged him tightly. Macaque... felt like crying although he could hardly understand why.

"Master is dead." Wukong had spoken with his usual monotone voice, but it cracked. Hearing his brother's voice crack broke Macaque and he hugged him back, feeling warm tears running down his face and he asked the question that had been racking his mind for decades.

"Why did Master never come back for me?" Wukong couldn't answer, no one could bare to tell him except for Mink.

"Master got rid of you because they didn't like you. But don't yell at us for never looking for you, because she specifically requested that we didn't and so here we are."

Macaque remembers how he broke down right there, tired after years of standing there with sleepless nights and little to eat or do. He remembers vowing to never trust their Master so blindly again, reminding himself to keep all the qualities Master Gertrude found annoying to a minimum. Macaque won't make the same upsetting mistake twice.

*I'm really sorry if this is the name of any one who might be reading this, I mean no offense! I just looked for a name that isn't frequently used in the modern day and that's what came up

I don't know, maybe I'll write a fanfiction with the next reincarnated Reader comforting Macaque after all this trauma of abandonment, poor baby boy... An AU of an AU, how thrilling!

This could work with any of the champions, in my opinion, because, I think, that if their Master wills it, no matter how harmful it is, they would just instinctually oblige. I only used Macaque because, if this happened to him, I would just break down crying and hug him till I die! Anyways, I hope you liked this, Emelin, and please please please give me validation! Thank you, you're the best!

OOOOOO i love this omg- THE ANGST- THE AAANGSSST- I also love the moment of Wukong's voice crack- it's literally lil moments like this where he shows vulnerability and emotions- fhgnfhgnfhg

Very well written and fitting character choice for this!! :D

But how dare that Master not like Macaque's affection and just abandon him?? HE'S THE MOST WHOLESOME OF THEM ALL- If we ignore the more murderous side of him of course- BUT HE'S SO FLUFFY TOWARDS HIS MASTER AND DESERVES THE BEST FLUFF IN RETURN- HDSFNDSHFNHDSFHNHDSNHSD

Like- this is so in-character for them though- Especially between the monkey bros since Macaque is usually so eager and happy about completing a task to make his Master happy- hgfnhgnfghf the feels of potential heavy angst, man- Gotta love it-

I'd definitely read a part two with a Master who actually gives him the fluffy comfort he deserves and needs gfhgnfhjgf

#lmk esau #eternal servants au #esau qna #esau fanart #angst #hnfghnfgh #holdup lemme pull up nate's version of drift away #haven't vibed to it in a long while

[evilhasnever]

A little Mother's Day drabble, set in the same reincarnation AU as this ficlet by me and this (by @lansplaining)

tl;dr Lan Huan visits Meng Shi to tell her about his intentions with A-Yao

Somehow Lan Huan ended up gardening with Meng Shi today, because the community garden is the only place where he can reasonably intercept her without her son around - and well, if someone is gardening right in front of you, you ought to roll up your sleeves and help. 

He has occasionally visited her with A-Yao before, and he got to bask in their easy, comfortable banter even as a bystander. But today he has to ask her something that A-Yao is not privy to yet. 

When he approaches her, she smiles with a glint in her eye. “Lan Huan! What a surprise! I’m sorry you have to see me in this state.” 

“I happen to think Ms. Meng looks great in dungarees,” Lan Huan replies. “I hope A-Yao will follow her example sometime.” 

She giggles pleasantly and stands up from her crouch with a little effort, eyeing him up and down. She seems to have already guessed that he has something to say - A-Yao takes after her, without doubt. “Well, don’t stand on ceremony.” 

Rather than stopping what she is doing, she hands him a plastic container. “Help me pick these strawberries. Isn’t A-Yao with you today?”

A gentle platitude, because she likely knows where A-Yao is at all times. Lan Xichen has spotted the mother-son text chats on A-Yao’s phone several times, with a mix of envy and fondness. 

He squats obediently and sets to picking the strawberries very carefully. “I am going to pick him up at six today. That’s why I wanted to speak with you before then.”

Meng Shi gives him a curious side glance, just this side of inquisitive. “I am all ears, dear.”

The endearment somehow bolsters Lan Huan’s courage. He had never known Meng Shi… before, only heard stories of her kindness and wit from A-Yao, but he was both relieved and awed to find that she is very, very similar to her son in more than just facial features. The first few times they’d met, he had earned from her the same scrunched up nose, the same squint of polite suspicion that he got from A-Yao when he’d asked him out for the first time.

It had not been quite perfect on the first try. Remembering a past life did not give him perfect insight on the current one; if anything it encumbered him with the fear of messing up and giving himself away carelessly. 

During his first date with A-Yao, Lan Huan had learned from trial and error like anyone else. His car was apparently too new (he should have biked!) and his watch was too expensive (it was Shufu’s gift!) and A-Yao had been quietly wary of his intentions. Lan Huan couldn’t blame him, in hindsight. In damage control mode, Lan Huan had asked him if he wanted to split the restaurant bill or if he’d let him take care of it, and A-Yao had relaxed minutely. “You can take it this time,” he’d said. "I’ll pay next time.” Lan Huan had smiled brilliantly in agreement, and the evening had only improved afterwards.

“Are you zoning out thinking about my son? As you should, I suppose!” Meng Shi’s knowing laughter draws Lan Huan back from his reminiscing. 

“I apologize, Ms. Meng,”  he blushes. “I have a lot on my mind, and it concerns A-Yao as you may have guessed.” He holds out the container full of strawberries and brushes off his knees to clear some of the dirt.  “He and I have been dating for seven months now, and I want to ask him to take the next step.”

Meng Shi’s eyes widen briefly and she purses her lips before setting down her gardening gloves and ushering Lan Huan towards the nearby bench. “Have you asked your family already?” she asks, neutrally.

“Not yet,” Lan Huan admits. “Whether they agree or not, I intend to propose to A-Yao anyway. If he agrees, only then I will tell them.”

Meng Shi’s lips quirk up in a smile, a single dimple popping on her cheek. “Why ask me, then?”

Lan Huan folds his hands in his lap, frowning. “I… I want your opinion, Ms. Meng. Do you think he will say yes? You and A-Yao are close. I have not been lucky enough to have such a relationship with my mother, but I admire it. Your opinion holds weight because you have A-Yao’s best interest at heart, as do I.”

Meng Shi observes him quietly for a moment, the declining sunlight making her look older than her years in the half-shade. Lan Huan tries not to think about how close she had come to death only a few years ago. It had been a story like many others; expensive treatment, nebulous chances of success. History almost repeated itself, but medicine had come a long way and her son had not spared any expense to get her treated, putting all of his other plans on hold. 

Secretly, Lan Huan had talked to a few doctors and made an anonymous donation through a charitable company, unable to stand aside and do nothing despite his family’s rules about interference. But money could only do so much. He had not been able to hold A-Yao’s hand through sleepless nights at her bedside, or comfort him in any way. They had been strangers, still. 

“A-Huan,” Meng Shi says, and Lan Huan startles like a deer. “For the longest time I thought you were too good to be true, and I could not trust you. I’m sorry about that. I have made mistakes in my youth and they have left me… afraid.” 

Lan Huan nods quietly. It is not his place to divulge how much (or how little) A-Yao has told him of her life. 

“But I believe in the evidence of my eyes,” she continues, patting his forearm with a gentle hand. “You make my A-yao so unspeakably happy, it cannot be a mistake.”

“Likewise, he does,” Lan Huan replies, finding his voice rough with emotion. 

“What I want to know,” she continues, careful but not stern, “is how you think you know him well enough to marry, after only seven months. He is too pragmatic and too sensible to jump into something like this recklessly.” 

Lan Huan sighs, shaking his head. “If I told you I have dreams of a past life, would you believe it?” 

Meng Shi tuts gently and raises her brow. Lan Huan returns her smile, and continues: “Of course not. So it must be fate.”

“Usually people invoke fate when they are not willing to put in the work,” Meng Shi chides, “but you have done right by my A-Yao. Some people have tried to change him, some have tried to advise him, some have tried to take him away. You won’t take him away from me, will you?”

“I would never,” Lan Huan murmurs. “The only thing that would change is that I may visit you with him more often in the future, if it isn’t too much of an imposition. I would… like that.”

Meng Shi smiles knowingly, gently. Lan Xichen remembers the timeless gaze of a deity’s statue, and a shiver runs down his spine despite the warmth of the late afternoon. 

“You’re such a good son,” Meng Shi sighs, “of course I’d love to have you.”

With a sharp inhale of breath, Lan Huan reaches up to wipe his eyes. A frail hand beats him to it, Meng Shi’s cool fingers patting his cheek patiently while he tries to get his breathing in check. 

“So, how are you going to pop the question, A-Huan? Tell me everything.”

“I-I was thinking of taking him to the restaurant where we had our first date,” Lan Huan says, a little shaky.

“Oh, that’s going to make him so terribly nervous!” She laughs. “Maybe you should bring him these strawberries to mollify him, he loves them.”

Lan Huan smiles and pushes the basket of strawberries back towards her. “Keep them with you, with some luck he’ll visit you to share good news soon. Besides, he’s too clever. He’d know we talked without him, and I don’t want him to suspect anything yet.”

Meng Shi thumbs a perfect strawberry and nods conspiratorially. “Alright, I’ll keep your secret, my dear.”

#xiyao #xiyao drabbles #meng shi #lan xichen #meng yao #jin guangyao #in absentia #but still #mother's day #shiome fic

[inkrabbit]

I’d like to request a Sodo fanfic where the reader gives him a tarot reading (also ur writing is amazing !! Keep up the good work ily!)

The sun is slowly starting to set when Sodo notices you sitting by his beloved fire pit. You’re shuffling cards, black and gold shining brightly in the fire’s glow. He watches you silently, his tail swaying behind him as you finally stop shuffling and pull the card from the top of the deck, brows raising as you studied the picture.

“You having fun?” he calls out, smiling when you jump.

“Man, you scared me,” you sigh, but you shoot him a smile. “I guess? Just decided to pull a card for tonight. Been having this like… weird feeling all day.”

“Weird feeling, huh?” He takes a seat next to you on the old log, looking at the card. The Empress. “Does this answer your question?”

“In a way…” You shrug, slipping it back into the deck. “It gives me an idea but… you know how it is. Life isn’t exactly set in stone. This card could say one thing, but then something else could happen and it could turn everything on its head.”

“Hm…” He stares down at the deck, eyes admiring the art on the back of the cards. “You mind pulling one for me?”

“You want a reading?”

“Sure. Just… pull somethin’ and we’ll see what we get.” He gives you a smile. He has a rough idea about how these readings work. “Already know what I want it to answer.”

“If you say so.” You start shuffling the cards again and he notices how you occasionally pause, only to start back up again.

“Why do you stop?” he finally asks when you do it again. “It’s like… you’re thinking?”

“Yeah, kinda.” You smile at him. “I normally shuffle until I feel like it’s the right, you know? I dunno. It’s kinda hard to explain.”

“No, I think I get it. Like you’re waiting to see which card is the one?”

“In a way, yeah.” You finally stop shuffling and his heart feels like it stops when you pull the card from the top of the deck. Two of Cups.

“Oh!” You give him a smile. “Well this is a good card. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“I… might…” He shuffles in his seat, trying to get comfortable as he faces you. “What’s the card mean?”

“Well, it’s like… you’re deepening a connection with someone,” you start. “This card represents the flow of love within, and the flow of love between two people. It’s like you’re creating something deeper with someone, normally on shared values, empathy and sometimes unconditional love.

“Really, this card focuses on you creating a new relationship with someone, whether it’s a lover, business partner or even a new friend. Basically you’re finding someone that you see “eye to eye” with.”

“Well, ain’t that something.” He smiles at you as his tail flicks behind him. A deeper connection? A new relationship? Sign him up.

He’s not sure if you knew, but he had been admiring you for the past few months, though he tried to be discreet about it. He couldn’t have every ghoul and sibling know about his love for you. With how no one commented on it, he was sure he was doing a good job at hiding it.

“What did your card mean?” he asks. “The Empress.”

“It basically means to connect to my more feminine side,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Take time to grow, look at everything I have around me. Maybe even have an opportunity pop up.”

“That so?” He shuffles closer, just a little bit so his knee bumps yours. “Well, what opportunity are you hoping for?”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not if it’s something you want.”

“What connection are you hoping to deepen?”

He splutters a bit. “I asked you first!”

“Well… I’m not answering until you tell me!” you fire back. You’re both staring at each other, waiting anxiously for the other to answer, but neither of you do. He can smell it now. Underneath the scent of the fire and his own burning musk, he can smell your nervousness.

“How about we tell each other?” he suggests slowly. “On three.”

“You’re really gonna tell me?” you ask him, though there’s a smile on your face. “Or are you gonna just let me say whatever I’m gonna say and then laugh at me?”

“Well, you’ll have to find out on three!” he laughs. You look around, and he looks with you. No one else is around. You’re both alone.

“Yeah… yeah, alright. I’ll do it.” His heart races.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three.” He doesn’t give you a chance to answer. He doesn’t even answer himself. He knew he would’ve made a fool out of himself had he tried to verbally tell you. So instead, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours, tensing when he hears that soft squeak of yours. But you don’t pull away. Instead, he feels you lean into him, tentative hands slowly finding their way past his horns and through his hair. He lets out a soft sigh as he cups your face with one hand, using the other to pull you closer to him. His tail wraps around your legs and he pushes his luck, running his forked tongue along the bottom of your mouth. His heart flutters when you open up for him.

And the taste of you… Lucifer, if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. He maps out your mouth, pushing against your tongue so you eventually fight back against him. Your scent is intoxicating, joy and relief making him dizzy because it’s the exact same thing he’s feeling right now.

Your arms eventually snake around his neck, pulling him closer. But it makes his mind run a mile a minute, his tail tapping wildly at the end. You finally pull back with a gasp, jumping away from him.

“You’re really hot!” you tell him, trying to uncurl his tail from his legs. “Are you okay? Did I upset you?”

“What? No!” Now he feels like an idiot. “I’m sorry. Fire ghouls heat up sometimes when there’s a lot going on.”

“I thought it was just when you were angry?”

“That’s commonly what it is, but sometimes it’s like… extreme excitement, too.”

You give him a smile. “You saying I made you extremely excited?”

“I guess I am.” He matches your smile. “About the whole… deepening connection thing… I may or may not want that to be with you.”

“Funny you should say that because I was kinda hoping I’d get the opportunity to spend more time with you.”

“That can be arranged if you really want it.” He brings his hand up, gently stroking your cheek. “Maybe we could do something together? Try going on a date?”

“And what kind of date do you have in mind?”

“Nothing too much. Maybe just go out so it’s just the two of us?” He pecks your lips. “And maybe some more kissing?”

“Hmm… I think I like the sound of that.”

#request #sodo #sodo ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #gn!reader #sodo x reader #ghost #ghost band

[magicaloneandmystery]

I hope you remember me. (p.p. x reader)

warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, reader has been dead for quite some time, grieving, angst angst angst

summary: a look at Peter's life after you're gone.

pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x gn!reader

a/n: I was supposed to post this a week or so ago but then I didn't like it but then I do like it now it's a whole mess. anyways, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

word count: around 800, I suppose

your laughter reverberated in Peter's mind as his eyes opened slowly to the sun shining through his window. he didn't remember the dream, but whatever it was, it included your happiness. he was glad for that. for a few moments of consciousness, he lived in a world where you were beside him.

the dream came crashing when he remembered his reality.

your side of the bed was empty, bedsheet neat and tucked. it was untouched, only a single framed photo of the two of you resting on your pillow. 

Peter had hoped had he not touched your side, left it as it is, your scent would remain in his room longer. time was never merciful, though. it had faded a long time ago. he was scared of your memories fading in his mind just like that. would he be able to fight time, then? 

he reached out, his fingers resting on your face. in the photo, that is.

good morning, he heard some past version of himself coo to you.

too early, you would grumble.

it was weird, he could never sleep well before you. with you, he slept perfectly fine, well rested and quite energetic. after you, though… he slept a lot, but he never felt remotely energised. never fresh, never like he got enough sleep, even on days he would sleep 10 hours in a stretch.

May was starting to get worried, he could tell from her weekly visits. once she would have scolded him for not sleeping enough. now he was being pitied for always sleeping. Peter didn't understand what the world wanted from him. 

the visits were another thing that had changed. where he would go to visit his aunt at least once a week, even taking you, he had stopped altogether once you were gone. you were so fucking engraved in his life that it was hard to do anything remotely personal without being flooded by your memories. a week after your funeral, May had dropped in to take care of him. it had become "tradition" once she realised that was the only time he would talk to someone about anything. 

she would come by, see his apartment barely used, as if nobody resided there, and get Peter to socialise with someone, even if it was merely his legal guardian from when he was a teenager. they would recount their week, the silence being filled mostly by May. occasionally, Peter would talk about his work or something he would encounter that you would've loved. loved to hear about, loved to do, loved for him to do, and so on. 

weekdayss were easier on Peter to get through. he would wake up, get ready, work, come back, sleep. wake up, get ready, work, come back, sleep. an easy routine. on weekends, he was forced to sit alone with his thoughts. 

thoughts that drifted back to you all the damn time. he was tired, frankly, but his guilt every time this thought popped up in his head was insurmountable. he could never tire of you. he'll never let you fade away. it was his last promise to you.

well, to your grave. he hasn't visited it once after the funeral. he wonders if he'll ever garner the courage to do so.

what would he even say?

I am sorry spider-man failed you. the one time you needed me there, I wasn't, and I'll spend the rest of my life repenting. please forgive me. please come back. I need you. you promised to always be there. come back, please. 

yeah, no thanks. he'd much rather not think about the night he was working late in his lab and got a call from his neighbor about a fire in the apartment and how you were not able to escape before the fire had blocked the exits. 

 he remembers coming home to a bunch of emergency vehicles scattered all around, an overwhelming amount of red. the fire, the trucks, the uniforms. everybody looked red.

your body was covered in red, too, when they brought you out.

he doesn't remember much except cradling your face in his lap, asking you to wake up.

wake up, dammit, I'm right here. c'mon, love. please.

next thing he remembers is standing in the hospital as May wrapped him in her embrace, holding him tightly. he remembers thinking if this is some kind of nightmare, but the wetness pooling on his shirt where May's head rested didn't seem like a manifestation of his mind.

he remembers seeing your body in the morgue. they had cleaned you up and your burns were hidden more or less. your face was pretty clear apart from a few cuts. you looked like you were sleeping. he willed you, one last time, to wake up and laugh this off as some sick prank. I won't be mad, (Y/N), but please. I can't take this anymore.

when they left the morgue was when he cried for the first time since everything.

Harry sat with him as he cried in his car outside in the parking lot, the seriousness of it all settling in. now, he cried every night.

he kissed the photo under his hands good morning, getting out of his bed and walking to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

it was much easier thinking about the tasks his boss had told him about last week than about the drowning feeling he got every time his thoughts turned to you.

thank you so much for reading, reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

I feel like most of the fics I write come out of this horrible headspace but lately that headspace has been ALL I'm experiencing so you might get some more fics that talk about r's death or anything along those lines? idk, if someone out there needs them or something :/

(tho I really hope you don't)

#tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #andrew garfield x you #peter parker x you #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter fic #peter parker fanfiction

[aerodaltonimperial]

Prompt: They won their match but lost each other in the months that followed. So Hook's not expecting the text he gets one afternoon on a quiet day in the middle of his bogus suspension: "What could Danhausen have done differently?"

(You know me too well and keep hitting all my damn fave tropes lmao lmao)

He's already hit the gym, had breakfast, and marathoned an entire season of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (which will never, ever go anywhere beyond himself and his Netflix account), so admittedly, he's already in a fairly odd state of mind when the text comes through, which might explain why all he can do is stare at it for several minutes stretched long and languid.

What could Danhausen have done differently?

Hook's heart thunders against his ribs.

Done differently? Is he...is he talking about them, like them as in the heavy with meaning, full of finality them Hook still finds himself choking on in the darkest parts of the night? But neither of them have bothered to reach out for months: their whirlwind tag team had slowed into only occasional lunches, then to a few erratic texts, and then...silence.

Of all the things that Hook regrets, this is easily the biggest one; the one that sometimes stumbles him when it gums up his legs, the one that still sends butterflies out into his stomach when he catches sight of the familiar face paint backstage. He's out of it, and bored, and antsy and that's the only reason that his fingers manage to type back a reply before the roar of self-preservation panic can stop them.

It wasn't your fault. Hits send.

Then his heart flares huge, swelling through his throat as he struggles to keep his food down. He shouldn't have answered. He shouldn't have--

His phone screen lights up. But Danhausen must have done something wrong.

"No," Hook whispers, to his quiet apartment, the space he barely knows anymore. Writes back: You did nothing wrong.

The seconds feel like hours.

Then why did Hook disappear? Danhausen thought we were friends.

We were friends, Hook types, and hates how awful it sounds. Past tense? Well, he certainly can't lie, not about this.

The response: What happened? Please tell me.

Hook bites down on his lip. Thinks. Hates the way his stomach has begun to churn.

Before he has time to formulate a reply, another message comes through: Danhausen misses Hook very much.

Hook misses Danhausen so much he's fairly certain he'll be devoured by the agony, but he can't...he doesn't know how to write it, explain it.

He's stuck, unable to offer an explanation that doesn't give his whole heart away. And he's too fucking scared; that's the rub. He's always been too fucking scared, and so he bolted.

He must delay far too long, because Danhausen sends another text, clearly assuming Hook is refusing the rest of the conversation: It's okay. Hook is not beholden to Danhausen. He does not need to explain anything. But

The text stops. There's nothing more. Why isn't there anything more? Hook stopped breathing two minutes ago.

Finally, the rest pops up: Danhausen thinks Hook is more valuable than anything else in the world, even if Hook never wants to speak to him again.

"What?" Hook inhales, the air cutting like glass shards along his throat. His nerves flare spiky, barbed.

He types, blindly, head spinning, you were the only thing I could think about. All the time.

He breathes. Thinks he might die right here, on his couch.

Really? His phone displays. But Hook was the only thing Danhausen wanted. All the time.

He can't...he can't mean that...

Hook writes: wanted how?

In every way possible, comes the reply.

Hook slams his thumb down on the green CALL button so hard he nearly breaks his phone. It rings once, twice, and then Danhausen picks up with a cautious, "Hook?"

"I've loved you since June," Hook says, and he doesn't know how, isn't sure how he gets the damn words out past his teeth, isn't sure how he hasn't puked by now. "D, I couldn't... I didn't know how..."

"Oh," Danhausen says, an exhale. A sigh. "Oh, Hook. We have been very foolish."

"Have we?" Hook whispers. He's too afraid to hope.

"Yes," Danhausen says, soft. "Hook. Danhausen loves you, too."

Hook swallows, his whole body shaking. "Yeah?"

"Mm." There's a pause, and some sort of scuffle in the background, noise Hook can't identify. "Hold please, Hook. Danhausen has just seen Stokely."

"What--"

"I'll call you back," Danhausen says. "Danhausen must go commit murder for you."

"Wait, wait, wait--"

"Hello, Stokely!" He hears, just before the line clicks dead, leaving Hook to stare at his phone trying to figure out what just happened and how to function normally with the euphoria mixed with trepidation flooding through his veins.

What, and he cannot emphasize this enough, the fuck?

#please ignore me having 17 mental breakdowns in the corner thanks!!!!

[smartycvnt]

the vipress

pairing: hook x reader

summary: you join aew and your old friend danhausen introduces you to hook, who quickly takes a liking to you.

"What a debut from Y/n Orton!" The commentary team seemed to be impressed with you, as were several of your colleagues backstage. The choice of going to AEW over WWE had been a difficult one, but you were sure that you had made the right choice. Each business was only big enough for one Orton. Randy has his stake in WWE and you'd make your mark at AEW. Besides, it was harder for him to play overprotective big brother if you were at a different company.

"Y/n!" Danhausen shouted, catching your attention as soon as you were backstage. On the indies, the two of you had been allies. Hopefully, he was looking to continue that at this new company. "Danhausen wants you to meet Hook. Hook is Danhausen's new partner. Together, Hookhausen wins matches."

"I saw that, congrats guys. It was a very nice win," you said with a small smile on your face. You glanced past Danhausen at Hook, who gave you a small nod. "I'm Y/n."

"Hook," He introduced himself. You shook his hand briefly before hugging Danhausen. Someone else called your name behind you, and Danhausen let you go. You walked off to see what they wanted you for, leaving Hook and Danhausen alone. "I like her."

"Y/n is very evil, but very, very nice." It was a warning to watch himself, one that Hook knew he should take more seriously than he was planning to.

-- -- --

The offer from Hookhausen to walk you to the ring was greatly appreciated. Penelope Ford was going to be quite the challenge, so you'd take all the help you could get. With a curse from Danhausen, you managed to get the pin over her. And afterwards, you were formally invited to join Team Taz. You hadn't been sure whether or not to accept the offer, but after noting the shy smile on Hook's face when his father asked, you knew that you couldn't say no.

"Hook!" you called out as you chased after him backstage. He slowed down for you to catch up.

"What's up?"

"I was kind of hungry, and it looks like pretty much everyone else is gone. Do you want to get dinner with me?" you asked. Hook ducked his head down as he thought about it.

"Yeah," he answered. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. You ran off to get changed, promising to not take more than 20 minutes. Hook leaned back against the wall and smiled to himself, something that he found himself doing quite a bit when you were around.

"You like Y/n," Danhausen said, popping up out of nowhere. Hook jumped in surprise. He rolled his eyes, but didn't deny the fact. "Danhausen thinks you should tell her."

"No way, Y/n probably has a boyfriend," Hook said.

"Danhausen knows that she does not, but if Hook were to ask her, then she probably would."

"Whatever."

-- -- --

Hanging out with Hook became a bit more of a norm for you as time went on. Danhausen would join you occasionally, which you didn't mind, but you preferred your alone time with Hook. Both of you seemed very popular with the crowds, so you'd be booked for a lot of the same shows and events. The fans had even started shipping you after Hook took you to the ring by himself. Admittedly, having the push of tens of thousands of fans cheering kiss had almost been what it took for you to make the first move.

"They got a little crazy out there tonight," Hook said as he walked with you to the car.

"A little?" you questioned. Hook nodded and opened up the door for you. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, a bit of confidence still surging inside of you. "Thanks."

"N-no problem." Hook was flustered, something that you hadn't expected. You hugged him all the of the time. You had literally ridden around on his back the at a hotel pool a few days ago. The little kiss must have meant more than you realized because Hook didn't talk to you until the two of you were over an hour out of the city.

"Did I do something wrong?" you asked nervously. Hook glanced over at you, briefly taking his eyes off the road.

"No, why?"

"You aren't talking to me. It feels awkward. Is it because I kissed your cheek?" Hook blushed a little at the mention of you kissing him, which answered your question for you. "I won't do that again, I guess. I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong Y/n. I just, I really like you," Hook said. You smiled at that and leaned over to kiss his cheek again. "I'd actually like it a lot if we kissed more often."

"That can be arranged, but you'll have to take me on a date first. Oh, and a nice one or I'll tell Danhausen and Hobbs you aren't treating me like a lady," you warned. Hook nodded as he began to think over where to take you. "You got quiet again."

"This time it's good, I promise. Don't worry about me. I might get the impression you like me too," Hook teased. You pouted a little and he placed his hand over yours. "And we can't have anyone thinking I charmed the Vipress."

"Yeah, they might start calling you 'snake charmer' or something stupid," you laughed. Hook rolled his eyes, but you could see the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

#hook x reader #hook #hook imagine #hook imagines #aew #aew x reader #aew imagines #aew imagine

[everybeginningasequel]

A little over a month ago, I wrote something about how songs can sound like things, like feelings in general. I didn’t include this, but I also meant to say that they can also sound like people and places: for instance, the soaring swelling of an electric guitar can sound like someone you used to know — messy-haired, wearing dark-framed glasses and a striped shirt in a dark backyard. Or, the first few notes on a piano can sound like red and yellow leaves, bubbling brook, footsteps on ancient polished wood, monks in yellow robes walking past into hidden anterooms. In every instance, images appear, slowly forming as each second passes, until there’s a clear enough picture of what the music looks like to you in your head. At least, that’s how I experience the act of listening.

This release sounds every bit like everything I loved about the best of Sufjan’s music — soft, gentle, playful, lovely, even if sad underneath it all. I’m grateful for it, because in the midst of the emotional upheaval and uncertainty that’s been on the forefront of my days lately, this sweet little thing popped up, sounding like warm, dappled sunlight, white curtains, surprised laughter, a morning breeze. It is what I wish I could be, when I am lifted up gently and kindly by something far greater than my self-pity, helping me turn away from despair and anger. It is in my mind, what the people I love say they know I can be, despite my occasional self-absorption — soft and kind and sweet, a bright thing. A hopeful thing.

In a way, it has brought me peace, allowing me to accept certain things that may have broken my heart a little, and to be thankful for them anyway, to be happy for them even if I am not the source and cause of that happiness. I would like to think that whatever happens now, there will always be hope, and there will always be a lot of brightness and love to go around in different ways.

#Spotify #music #personal #writing #sufjan stevens #a running start

[lovesomehate]

Hey! It’s booty shorts Jacob again aka Annie. I’ve come to drop a new au. I hope it’s not too long and it wasn’t cut off or anything. Also, it’s been a little while I popped in. How are you as well? Have you been good? I just got caught up on some assignments. Here’s the au:

(Ryan, Jacob, Chris, and Bobby are around the same age. They’re within three years of each other. Laura is 7 years older then them and a year younger than Travis. Caleb and Kaylee are Travis’ kids. 🤫. Anyway, Hackearney, Chryan, and Jacobby supremacy!!! iPhone items are around because I’m lazy.)

Travis sat in his car hidden by the tall trees in the dark. He angled his car just enough in the tree line, he was bored and damn near ready to 10-7 out of there. He was tired, until a green suv sped past him. He clocked the speed and sighed, “Of course we got some kids speeding.” He flickered on his lights as he passed the route 919 sign. He followed behind them for a few minutes before the car stopped, he pressed on his radio. “Dispatch, 10-28… New York license plate.” He rattled off the numbers, the voice called back. “It’s coming back to a Caleb Kearney… it’s clean.” Kearney brought back painful memories he didn’t want to relive. ‘Family is supposed to be the most important thing in the world to you travis. How do you want to protect us when you won’t leave them? I thought I was your family!’ ‘You are Laura. But those are my parents… I can’t… look just stay and we can talk.’ ‘No, you made your choice. I guess blood is thicker than water. Enjoy your REAL family.’ That argument was stupid. It started for no reason, it was like Laura loved to start with him. They needed an occasional argument but this one was too sensitive. And things happened. Travis opened the door at that and made his way to the car. He could hear hushed whispers in the car, it was two people from what he could see. He stopped by the window.

In the car the young kids jumped briefly, he knocked on the window. The boy rolled it down, “Great night we’re having huh officer?” Travis sighed as he looked at them, “Are you aware of why I stopped you?” The boy looked at the girl who fumbled a bit. “Uh… because you can tell we’re lost?” He gave them an unamused look, “You were speeding. Would you mind telling me why you were going triple digits on a 65?” The boy shrugged at him, “Hey sir, it’s dark and spooky here. We’re camp counselors. We’re just trying to get away from the trees and shit.” Travis clicked his tongue, “License. Both of you.” The girl reached up and pressed the over head light on, she gathered it out of her purse and his wallet. She handed it over. He nodded, “I’ll be right back.”

Travis went to his car and got in, his body was unforgiving to his car. No matter how many times he adjusted the seat. The years has not been good for him. He remembered how he used to roll out of bed unbothered, now he needed a few pep talks, at 43, he should be retired. He clicked his overhead light and paused, “Caleb and Kaylee Kearney. Huh? Kearney… there’s plenty in the world. They’re twins. 22 years old.”

Kaylee shifted in her seat and looked behind them, “That dude is giving me odd vibes. Why was he staring at us like that?” Caleb shrugged at her, “How am I supposed to know. Jeez though, he’s creepy.” She groaned as she looked down, “You think mom is going to notice us here? I mean our lie about cross country was kinda thin.” Caleb scoffed, “She’ll be animals. She’ll be fine.” He shifted in his seat, “Plus, we help the kids. We dig into our background for our father and maybe our moms parents and we’ll go back home before college.” Kaylee nodded, “Sure. Sounds easy.” The cop eventually came back to the window, Caleb jumped again. “Come on dude. You need a bell or something. Your feet doesn’t make a noise.” The cop didn’t say anything, he cut his eyes towards Kaylee. She fidgeted in her chair, her dark eyes locked onto his. “What are you two doing out this late?” Kaylee looked away, “Uh, you know… we’re camp counselors at the Quarry. Hacketts Quarry.” Caleb frowned, “Don’t say Quarry. Quarry is a place where you get minerals out of or extract them is the proper term. It’s a summer camp.” Travis shook his head, “Uh, counselors aren’t expected tonight. Tomorrow morning. Yes. Not tonight. I can point you to a motel to rest in.”

Kaylee looked from him to her phone, it said mom across the screen. She answered it and was speaking to a face but Travis couldn’t see or hear. It wasn’t until he watched her brush some of her hair behind her ear, he seen a headphone. Caleb nodded, “Yeah, we’ll take the motel. She gets cranky like our mom if she’s no where on time but I could use some rest.” Travis nodded, he watched Kaylee end the call because her attention was back on them. Both the children looked vaguely familiar, yet he couldn’t place them. They’re too young to be related to any Kearney he knows and the oldest ones are dead. They died young. The one that grew up with him, Laura, he doesn’t think they could be directly related. But Caleb’s blue eyes are something that can’t be ignored. Same way Kaylee’s dark eyes seem familiar.

He cleared his throat when he realized he was just staring. “Uh, I’m letting you go… just… be careful. If you two follow the road, it will be the next right to the Harbinger Motel. Okay?” Caleb and Kaylee both nodded and watched him slowly walk away from the car. “What did mom want?” Kaylee shrugged, “Wanted to know if we got here yet and how she’s disappointed that she learned we were coming out here from uncle Ryan.” Caleb groaned, “Man uncle Ryan can’t hold water!!! He’s always telling on us!” Kaylee looked at her phone, “Should we turn our location on just in case?” Caleb nodded, “Mom already knows we’re here. It’s only right. And let’s get a room too. I’m tired.”

Kaylee looked over at her phone, she groaned, “Ugh. This guy. Caleb your step dad is calling.” Caleb looked down, “Max is your stepdad. I’d rather find out who our real dad is. Mom went to school here. We just find uncle Jacob and uncle Ryan and we crack the code.” Kaylee finally answered the FaceTime and pulled her airpod from her ear. “Hi, Max.” He grinned, “Hey kiddos. Did you make it safe? Do you need money? Did you get stopped? You weren’t speeding were you? What cop stopped you?” Caleb started to squeeze and crunch an old chip bag in one of his hands, “Uh oh. The connection… I can’t hear you- oh no.” Kaylee clicked the end button before she laughed, “You’re a bully.” Caleb laughed too, “Yeah, we need to get mom and our real dad back together. This guy? He sucks Kaylee… he’s so nonchalant. He doesn’t push mom. He gets pushed over. I know whoever dad is… he has to be like perfect or something.” Kaylee nodded, “I mean, yeah, mom talks about the guy a lot. How many people do you think remember them being together?” Caleb looked up at the motel they were nearing, “The Harbinger… sounds like a murderer stays here.” Kaylee laughed, “You’re stupid. Come on. Let’s get our room.”

Laura paced her bedroom, she ran her hands down her face. “Laura, you’re being over dramatic-“ She whipped around, “Max! Shut up! I let them go cross country to California! Why are they in North Kill huh? Why’d they stop at the Harbinger motel?” Max shrugged at her, she sighed, “They’re going to meet him. Or he’s going to meet them.” Max reached for her hand, “You shouldn’t care. We’re together now…” Laura looked down at him, “Max… do you realize I still love him. We had plans. We planned our lives out with each other. I chose that college because it was near his police academy! I never even told him I was pregnant. He must think I’m a bitch for withholding information.” Max shook his head, “You did what you thought was best for you.” Laura pulled her hand free from him, “No! I wanted him to choose between his family and me because he loved me! Not because I was giving him kids. But no, Constance and Jedediah get sick and he has to stay to take care of him. Ugh…” She sat down on the bed, Max looked at her, his eyes were sad. She groaned, “Look, I know I keep putting off what we are… Max… I’m sorry for all of this coming out now. But I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts. I couldn’t be alone with my guilt.” He stood up and looked at her, he cross his arms as his eyes flamed. “I stayed with you for over 10 years. I thought things might bloom. But it was like we were best friends raising some kids. I loved them like they were my own… this… Laura maybe you are selfish. Maybe if you do show your face, he wouldn’t want you back. I want you know that you’ll deserve it.” When he left the room, she heard the front door slam shut. She was alone with her thoughts. Her thoughts on how she inadvertently messed up both relationships.

Chris smiled as he looked at the counselors, Nick, Emma, Abigail, Caleb, Kaylee, Kaitlyn, Dylan, and Silas stood in front of him. “Hacketteers welcome!” Caleb rolled his eyes and looked at Kaylee, she looked up at Chris. They’ve technically grew up knowing him, he was their uncle through their uncle Ryan. They just didn’t know how close their family was in actuality. “Alright, Caleb, Sports Coordinator.” Caleb nodded, “Kaylee, nurses station.” He went on to assign the rest of the counselors. Nick was the cook. Emma was doing theater. Abigail was art. Kaitlyn was the activities coordinator. Dylan was announcements. And Silas was activities assistant and sailing coordinator. Everyone was chatting and talking, Caleb looked at Kaylee, “I’m going down to the town… go get some snacks. And adult stuff.” Silas cut his eyes at him, “Mind if I come?” Caleb shrugged, “Shit, more hands to carry stuff.”

Constance held onto Jedediah’s forearm as they walked out the market. She went stiff when she seen Travis coming towards them, only it wasn’t their son. The blue eyes told her everything she needed to know. “Oh my Heavens… Jed… do you…” He nodded, “I do. Is he… is that our boys son?” She swallowed, “No, because Travis would’ve told us. He and the girl, they broke up. What was her name?” Jed shifted his weight to hold them, “Uh, Lucy? I can’t remember… it was years ago… the Kearneys… they’re dead. They’ve been gone for awhile. Their house is still boarded up down the road.” Caleb got closer as a plastic bag fell, he kneeled to gather the groceries, “Hey, here. I don’t think you guys need your produce bruised up.” Constance looked at him like she seen a ghost, especially the goofy way he smiled. It looked like their son, but their son was void of any humor. Any light. His dark eyes looked haunted ever since the girl left. Their relationship strained but he wouldn’t admit to it. Constance knows, she knows he blames them. But they had Chris and Bobby, he made it his choice to stay with them. He had someone worth fighting for but he- “Ma’am… are you alright?” She coughed and Jed looked down at her with a warning in his eyes, “I’m fine. Thank you young man. For help.” Caleb nodded, he had the goofy grin again, “Hey, you know, it’s always good to help. Mom raised me and my sister to help people. Just like family. All you have is family. They’re the most important thing in the world.” Silas was in the background, Jedediah narrowed his eyes at the boy just slinking about. “Erm, that’s great! Sounds like your mom is a nice woman… uh, bye.” He pulled on his wife, she finally took her eyes off Caleb and looked at Silas. The boy looked familiar. But she couldn’t linger. Silas whistled a funny tune, “That old woman recognized you.” Caleb scoffed, “I’ve never seen her a day in my life. Anyway, you a beer or a liquor guy?” Silas frowned, “Uh, neither. Mother doesn’t let me drink…” Caleb frowned, “Lame. I’ll get both… you can never go wrong with with too much alcohol.”

Chris held his face in his hands, Ryan scratched his head, “Uh, you mean to tell me you guys don’t know that Caleb and Kaylee is Travis’ kids?” Chris looked up, “No! Travis didn’t tell us! And how was I supposed to know! There’s like Kearneys all over the world!” Ryan sighed, “No, your big brother made his choice. And I guess Laura made hers.” Chris moved his hand to his mouth he bit down on his knuckle, he immediately paused. “Travis doesn’t know does he?” Ryan cringed and Chris groaned, “Oh god! I know now! I can’t lie to him! He’s going to kick my ass because he’s going to think I’ve known! What the fuck Ryan!” Ryan shrugged at him, “Jacob knows! Why are you yelling at me?” Chris sighed and stood up, he pressed a kiss to Ryan’s lips, “I will be buried alive when Travis finds out. Make sure my funeral is lively… don’t let him just leave me in a hole. Invite people.” Ryan rolled his eyes, “Now you’re overreacting.”

Caleb found Kaylee on the side of the road, she was on someone’s porch peering in through slats of wood. Silas looked over, “Isn’t that your sister?” Caleb was already unbuckling his seatbelt, “Regretfully. Here, I’ll be back.” He got out the car and ran up to the porch, “Kay, what are you doing?” She looked over her shoulder, “This is the old Kearney house. I thought we’d at least meet some grandparents. I guess not. The phone book had this address in it.” Caleb grabbed her bookbag and slung it over his shoulder, “Jeez. You lugged this all the way here? This weighs as much as you.” Kaylee shoved him, “I found out from uncle Ryan before he stopped talking, our fathers name is Travis. I think it starts with an ‘H’. He made a ‘ha’ noise before running and locking himself in the room with uncle Chris. If you take me to the library before the kids get here tomorrow I think we can google.” Caleb nodded, Kaylee followed him to the suv and climbed in. She looked at the bags, “You do realize we’re going to have to hide the beers and liquor. We’re around kids.” Caleb nodded, “We’ll party when they’re asleep.” Silas shyly smiled at Kaylee, she smiled back, “You’re quiet and observing Silas. You should liven up a little. It’s camp.” He shrugged to himself, “Mother didn’t want me to make noise unless it was howls and growls for some extra money.” Caleb looked in the rear view mirror, she caught his look. It read, he’s been saying shit like this the whole ride. Please stop it. She nodded, “Well your moms not here.”

Jacob and Bobby covered for Caleb and Kaylee without knowing it. They were just up there talking with Chris when Ryan noticed they were missing. Kaylee signed in to use a computer, Caleb looked over her shoulder as she typed. “Okay, Travis Haack.” Kaylee hummed, “Died as a baby. Next.” Caleb tilted his head, “Travis Haag?” Kaylee clicked around, “In prison longer than we’ve been alive… longer than mom has been alive.” Caleb ran his finger down the line, “Travis Habecker.” Kaylee looked at the screen, “He died by drowning… in 1970.” Caleb stopped at a name, he hummed, “This is familiar… Travis Hackett. Uncle Chris’ and Bobby’s last name.” Kaylee shrugged and typed the name in. “Oh… he’s the sheriff-“ Caleb pushed her aside, “That was totally the creep that pulled us over… see if you see a yearbook. He probably went to school with mom.” Kaylee found one and clicked on it, “Class of 1983… but mom was a junior. I found Kearney…” LAURA KEARNEY, JUNIOR. They zoomed into their mothers smiling face, she had huge hair. They couldn’t stop laughing. The librarian sent them several looks. “Okay… Caleb you have moms eyes… and her smile. But you don’t look like her. I do.” Caleb nodded, “You probably have dads coloring. I mean, aside from the blonde hair. I have to have his hair.” Kaylee searched and found TRAVIS HACKETT, SENIOR. Kaylee’s jaw dropped, “Caleb. That’s you. That’s you if you wore glasses. That whole awkward face you make… Eww our dad is a creepy cop.” Caleb rolled his eyes, he looked down as he studied the image. “Wait. Do you think that’s why he let us go? Wow. He missed 22 birthdays and said, hey I’ll let them off with a warning.” Kaylee looked at Caleb, her brother was a hot head and quick to get in any emotional distress. She knew he was going to be beat up over this. Especially because their mother raised them with family in mind. “Come on, let’s cool down before we go back.”

Laura’s hands gripped her steering wheel as she sped down the street. She passed the Route 919 sign on her right. She needed to explain it to her children, she can’t let them find out. But judging by Caleb’s text ominous text, ‘Thanks for everything mom.’ They definitely know who their father is. “Shit! Fuck! God dammit!” She was nearing familiar territory when blue and red lights flickered on behind her car. “UGHHHHHH!!!!” She couldn’t see who was in the car, but god, if it was Travis she could keep going. She wouldn’t stop. She didn’t care. But if it wasn’t… she finally slowed down and pulled over. Laura brushed her blonde flyaways from her face and finger combed her hair. The officer was not Travis at all. It was some young kid that had a pimple sprouting on the top of his nose. She beat her hands against the wheel, this was going to take forever. “Good evening ma’am-“ Laura cut him off, “Look. Give me your sheriff. Your supervisor. Whoever. Get me Travis Hackett.” The young officer called out on the radio, she couldn’t hear Travis’ voice. But she knew he had to be irritated. The call was short. But she didn’t know how police radios worked.

Travis pulled up behind one of the older police cars and walked to the officer on scene. “Meyers. Why am I here?” He rested his hands on his hips, “The lady called you by name sir. But, she was clocked at going 125 down here heading towards the Quarry summer camp.” Travis ran a hand through his hair as he tried to incline his head to see who was in the car, “The lady… is she blonde? Does she have blue eyes-“ Meyers nodded, “Yep. She’s uh, beautiful. I mean… I don’t have her license…” Travis leveled him with a look, “That woman is a mother. And I don’t think a child is her type. You can go Meyers. I can take care of this.” Travis cupped his hand over his mouth and breathed out, he sniffed before he straightened his uniform and fixed his hair. He rested his large hand on his gun while he walked towards the car, he felt shell shocked when he locked eyes with Laura. She froze too. It’s been 22 years. It was one argument. It was one little fight and that resulted in them separating. But god, the connection was still strong because they both stared at each other and just stayed like that. No one uttered a word. “Ma’am… you do know you were clocked at 125?” Laura rolled her eyes and smiled, “You do know I don’t care right. I have to fix something.” Travis leaned against the car window, all propriety was out in the open. “Fix what? And don’t get bratty with me, I’ll take you down to the station.” It was easy between them, it could never be like this with her and Max. She felt the words roll off her tongue, “I bet you wish you could have me handcuffed at the station… you’re a naughty sheriff or something?” He couldn’t help the slight smirk, “Maybe only for you…” It’s like their argument hadn’t happened. It’s like them being separated never happened. It’s like they just got out of high school. Like no time passed, but Travis straightened up and felt his back crack all the way up to his neck and realized he was still old. “You didn’t say what you were going to fix…” Laura reached out and grabbed his hand, he laced their fingers together. “Why don’t you hate me… you know. I know you know. You know because I know you’re not stupid. You know?” He looked down at her as he clicked his tongue off his teeth, “Because I made the choice. I had to keep my family out the well but I left you stranded at the bottom… I wasn’t thinking.” Laura looked at him with sad eyes, “I wasn’t thinking. My parents died and… and I just didn’t want to lose you too and I did by making you choose.” He shook his head, “You never lost me. I uh… there’s been nobody else Laura. I pushed everyone away. Hell, my relationship with the family took a nosedive when you left. I worked and worked and look, Sheriff of North Kill.” She smiled, “I have my own animal hospital downtown, Kearneys Klinic.” He reached down to fix a strand of hair, it was a force of habit. When they were younger, he didn’t want her eyes covered by anything. “You know your son drives like you?” Laura laughed, “Oh, he does? Did he get out a ticket like me?” Travis shook his head, “He sounded like a smart ass. Your daughter was just as quippy as you were though.” Laura sighed and looked over, “Why don’t I park my car at your house and you take me to the Quarry?” He looked at the watch on his right wrist, “It’s 2 in the morning… why don’t you get some rest?” Laura nodded and unloosened their fingers, “Well, guess I’m sleeping at your place too.” He snorted as he stood up, “Yeah… uh, I’m not trying to be a homewrecker Laura. If you’re happy-“ She reached out for his tie and pulled him down to her head level, he tried to swallow to keep from choking. She glared at him with flamed eyes, “It was never a home to begin with without you Travis. And there was somebody but he wasn’t you… I missed you.” She pressed her lips to his but pulled away just as fast, “Lead me to your house. I’m tired and I haven’t had a decent nights sleep since I left all those years ago.”

Caleb frowned at Laura, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Kaylee cringed as she looked at the man in a flannel and dirty jeans. Jacob and Bobby were making busy like they were cleaning the bar but they were trying to eavesdrop, “Oh no, Jacob. This glass fell.” He pushed it off the bar. Jacob cleared his throat, “I’ll get that for you Bobby. Don’t you worry.” Travis wanted to yell at them but this was as private as they could get. “So…? Uh…” Laura closed her eyes to breathe deeply, “Children. Your father and I loved each other like a lot. But he had duties and I had duties and I was hoping to like tell you guys sooner. First of all, I didn’t know you were offered a summer camp job. I would’ve said no. But, look, travis is your dad. And I’m sorry you didn’t know it sooner.” Caleb glared hard until a grin popped on his face, “When you said I was handsome like my father… you lied?” Kaylee giggled and looked away. Laura scowled, “Your father was hot. He was peak hotness when I was at school. Yeah, he wore glasses but he didn’t have acne or braces.” Kaylee nodded, “No, because you had the braces mom. We took pictures of your yearbook pictures. 1983 what a time to be alive.” Jacob snorted and Travis looked back, both he and Bobby ducked behind the bar. Travis sighed, “Look, I can’t erase 22 years of me missing from your lives but I can try to be there for the next 22.” Caleb raised his eyebrows, “How do you know you’ll live that long?” Travis rubbed the back of his neck, “My parents are still alive.” Laura looked at him, “Still?” The kids noticed she said it like she was surprised. “I thought they were sick?” Travis shrugged, “Yeah, they were. They started to hate this woman from some odd sideshow and I guess hate keeps them alive. She had a ‘dog boy’ it’s some kid that makes like wolf noises for money. He’s albino and kinda freaky looking. I had to shut down the attraction a few times in the past.” Kaylee looked at him, “Holy shit! Silas? He’s a counselor. His mom doesn’t let him live. Like Caleb destroys his liver on a nightly basis and that kid won’t even sniff a beer bottle.” Laura arched her brow at Caleb, Bobby spoke, “He gets it from Travis. We seen the old aged whiskey in his car. Real top shelf product-“ Travis cleared his throat, “Leave.”

Everyone was surprised at the way the family showed up to the Hackett house. Constance fell in love with Kaylee, it was probably because there was never girls around. She was excited to meet her. Jedediah was talking about how he knew Caleb had to be his. Laura thought things would be awkward, she didn’t tell them or him about their extended family. Instead everyone welcomed them with open arms, even Constance’s judgy face never showed up once. When Laura got pulled in a hug she knew the older Hacketts had to be replaced. Constance used to say she was never enough for Travis, but here she is getting a hug from the surely woman. Laura looked over at Travis, “If I ask you now… would you leave?” He shook his head, “North Kill has always been our home… it’s my turn to ask you… would you leave?” Laura looked at how excited and talkative everyone was. Jacob and Bobby were sitting by Constance hearing about Kaylee’s future dreams. Ryan and Chris were with Jedediah and Caleb, the sports talk and science talk had them interested. “Honestly… the city has been a little too loud for me lately. I think a change of scenery could do me good. And, you guys have a lot of animals that need help.”

The end. Travis and Laura get together and stay in North Kill. Laura finds out he bought her a ring all those years ago, she demands he marry her now definitely or she’ll leave again. He does. Half of the town show up. Chris stays running the Quarry. Kaylee actually became a reoccurring counselor because she loves kids. Silas was able to live a little by being friends with Kaylee, she begged her father to look into the obviously illegal practices that Eliza ran. Travis arrested the woman for abuse, private property damage, among other things. Ryan’s animated pilot for Hacketteers’ Nightmares gets the green light. The first season is about werewolves. Jacob and Bobby stays in all the town gossip because of sportsbar and people are drunk when they talk to them. Caleb dropped science and just took up football, after all he had an arm on him. Max moved on but old memories hurt when he seen Caleb being drafted on tv and seen Kaylee, Travis, and Laura behind him. Travis and Laura were wearing matching rings and looked genuinely happy. And he was oddly, happy for her.

That was a whole ass trip gjsnfnsnfnsbfn Booty Shorts Jacob you never disappoints. This was soooo good 😂 I love the idea of everyone that knew young Travis taking a look at Caleb and being like “yep that one belongs to Travis for sure” 😂😂😂

Laura and Travis being that one couple from school that everyone knew would end up married. Well they weren’t wrong, just took them 22 years to do it😂😂😂😂

I’m going to be thinking about this au for a while now 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

#ask #anon #travisxlaura #oh yeah I forgot to say #I’m good #suffering with this heatwave that we are going through in the uk #but good

[kitaychan]

Ok SO

Classic dystopia literature, in this case I will mainly be talking about the big 3, 1984, a brave new world and farenhight 451, with occasional mentions of other books.

These books are very different from what we normally perceive as "classic", most of them arent very old and instead of dealing with the distant dreary past, instead we deal with the much more in your face past.

Orwell wrote his books as satire and political commentary against both communism and Nazism, both of which were very prevalent in the times because the 40s woke up and chose violence, as well as in a few of his books poking the metaphorical stick at capitalism.

(This is how animal farm managed to get banned in the ussr for being anti communist and in the USA for being pro communist)

1984 deals with a lot of things, the ever present surveillance that started to pop up in Orwells time and is becoming ever more relevant as the days go on past, the idea that the herd mentality works on large numbers of people if they're scared enough, hence the "two minutes of hate" routinely screened to the populace to stir up patriotism and a willingness to fight a threat that they believe exists, but never has. Winston being a part of the 20 to 30 percent of the population who is in on this whole...disaster are even more scared of big brother than the more simple majority, because they know what happens when they fall even slightly out of line.

I know this sounds like a lot of shit actually read the book, it also talks about bodily autonomy and is just overall a very good read.

A brave new world paints an opposite picture to 1984, but it's just as dystopic, Aldrous Huxley (the author) wrote this before Orwell wrote his whole set of novels. A book written in 1932, still resonates with our society today, because huxley wrote it as an observation of his time and role in society, the cult like consumerism, the chasing of pleasure. in physical and material ways, soma, a drug engineered to not cause any side effects and optimum pleasure, and the whole children being made in a factory and later encouraged to have "erotic play(the kids are having orgies why)" they worship Ford, father of the production line and Freud which is not something I want to get into rn.

Both show our modern world with alarming similarity, yet theeres always a slight dissonance between our world and theirs.

(I will continue this later as I am reaching the ask limit, but read the books if you haven't already)

Ahh the big 3! From those books the only one I've read until now is 1984, the way it criticizes totalitarianism is really interesting and it left me with such a bitter taste!!

That's actually one of the reasons why I've been delaying reading 'A brave new world' though the way you describe it makes me want to read it!

Ahh that similarity to reality you mention is what makes dystopias so alluring (in terms of wanting to read stories set in one) because they can be scarily close while also sounding like a distant exaggeration :o

Also I hope you don't mind me linking this to hetalia but this fic takes 1984 plus a bit of alternative history to make the country boys form their own fucked up dystopia :o

#ahhh I really want to read a brave new world now #the criticism of consumerism was my jam back in third semester of uni #ahhh

[resistanttodarkness]

A Brief Summary of Immortals, by Nathan Barrow

Hello, dear readers! Can you believe it’s been a whole year since President Della Frienze’s crazy inauguration speech? Life has certainly taken some turns since then!

I feel I would be failing in my duty as a journalist if I did not recap this historic event. And besides, this post can serve as a nice little summary of the world of Immortals as a whole! I’ll have Josh pin it to the main page! (Editor’s Note: Nate made this thing too damn long to pin it to the main page. It’s a mess as it is. I’ll make it a separate page on the site, or something.)

When President Frienze took the stage, everyone thought it was going to be your run-of-the-mill celebration speech, going over campaign promises and the like. Boy were we wrong! Out of nowhere, she drops this bombshell- “While I know this is meant to be a celebration for myself, my party, and those who voted for me, I must deliver an important message. Magic is real.”

Insane, right? I don’t think there was a sound on Capitol Hill for five minutes straight! Why’d she wait that long, anyway? To show she was serious? To check the audience for some Immortal agents? Boggles the mind, right? Anyway, she continued-

“Since nearly the dawn of human civilization, there have been people with the ability to perform inexplicable feats. Creating fire, water, lightning from nothing. Flight. Speaking with animals. The list goes on. These people are Immortals, named as such due to their unaging forms.”

To think she didn’t elaborate on that bit! Unaging! Bit hard to hide that for so long, right? I had to dig this up on my own last year, if you’ll recall. Turns out it’s more complicated than simply being “unaging”. An Immortal ages normally, and can even choose to pass away from old age if they so wish. But, they can also “reset” to the age of 25 from any age past it. Wild! 

The memory of seeing it in action still gives me goosebumps. Back when I interviewed Blake Ravitz over at the dam- The work was getting to him, even at only 35 years old. I guess Immortal powers take a lot to use. But I’ve seen 40-year-old Immortals do similar jobs just fine. Maybe some Immortals have more power than others? I’ve gotta make sure I ask the next one I interview about that!

This next bit’s real juicy- “However, at the end of a grueling war between Immortals in the Dark Ages, Mortalkind forced them into hiding. No longer. I welcome the Immortals of the United States of America to reveal themselves, and I urge my fellow world leaders to do the same.”

And then she just left! Didn’t let a single person interview her! 

It took a few days after that, but shows of Immortal powers started popping up everywhere. Every single news channel in existence just had hours of B-roll playing of people doing crazy things! I think the media bigwigs were in just as much shock and awe as the rest of us!

Since then, things have been weirdly calm. Sure, you have the occasional anti-Immortal protest, but I think the type who like to punish people for being themselves tend not to be as powerful as they like to pretend they are when faced with firebending, lightning-shooting, flying wizard people!

Otherwise, you mostly have Immortals just… Living life, but with the option to use their powers. I mentioned Blake Ravitz working at the dam, but I’ve also heard about psychic warehouse workers, and zookeepers that make the animals the happiest anyone’s ever seen them!

And the best part? This isn’t ruining the workforce! I mean, there aren’t really any Immortal abilities I know about that can help you flip burgers or run the register, so we aren’t fully out of crap jobs, unfortunately. But the thing is, Immortals have always been among us. If anything, the workforce kinda just got shuffled around a bit.

There is one sticking point, though- While law enforcement now has Immortal powers to work with, so do criminals. As such, things on that end have been a rapid cat-and-mouse endeavor trying to match the right Immortal cops with the right areas of jurisdiction to best deal with whatever powers the criminals there have.

And, unfortunately, my lovely home of San Francisco has been one of the places that hasn’t quite caught up on that front. We’ve been dealing with a rash of bank robberies that the SFPD can’t pin down. 

But, that’s not for this post. I’ll be doing a deep dive on that particular story in my next article. Who knows, maybe the problem will be resolved before then!

#writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #urban fantasy #resistant to darkness

[existentialmagazine]

Review: ARO’s storming new single ‘Crazy’ pivots into alternative-rock while seeking independence from the world’s gendered critiques

The LA-based artist ARO has slowly but surely been finding her sound since her musical beginnings last year, most recently pivoting into pop-rock and alternative music as she seeks to create what feels most natural to her. As she previously held the reigns of electro-pop, this talented up-comer might only carry a few songs at her disposal, but each one dares to delve between sound and style with an impressive understanding for every sound.

Thriving in independence and empowerment, ARO’s newest single ‘Crazy’ is one sure to relate to women worldwide, pulling apart the gendered expectations with a wit of the modern day. The sound is loud, bold and unashamed to match, pushing forward alternative-rock that’s in-your-face with steady drums, a looping electric guitar riff and of course ARO’s leading vocal performance. Kept at bay through a more mid-range delivery that occasionally floats into a higher nod, ‘Crazy’ at first brings out the angsty and unfiltered spoken-sung approach to really drive the message home. With lines like ‘seen the way she’s dressing? really think she’s something else’ to match, ARO expresses the critiques so openly spewed towards women without hesitation, dressing for their own standards or even trying to meet theirs and yet continually met with some kind of gripe. If she’s too attractive she’s trying too hard, if she’s too un-covered she’s “asking for it”, if she looks a mess she’s not trying enough - there’s never a win, and ARO knows it. Continuing ‘I think she looks for drama, always talking bout fighting peace’, ARO really looks to hone in on the comments that come from every angle, always having something to say about you even when you’re doing good - or literally just existing.

Building in pacing as well as slowly heightening tensions, this opening verse can’t help but feel as though it’s holding back, keeping up the calm before one hell of a chorus storm. Led into this eruption by the final pre-chorus line ‘lost all her self respect, heard she was going crazy doing everything that we expect’ , it’s pretty clear where the breaking point lies, trying to meet expectations and finally having enough. Letting free with vigorous, rich guitar strums, clashing drums and some of the most stand-out hooks, this momentary peak looks to do nothing else other than dominate and be heard, taking centre stage after so long squashed-down backstage playing a part that would never please them quite enough. ARO’s vocals are equally unleashed, soaring through powerful heights with layered backing vocal harmonies to add that extra level of emphasis to her words. A shredded guitar solo even takes over the bridge with a sheer amount of built-up anger behind each pluck, relentlessly hammering her message home even through sound until you can’t get it out of your mind anymore.

Defined to be a song for anyone that’s ever outgrown their surroundings, it’s certain that ‘Crazy’ doesn’t just look to speak out, but it yearns to carry the torch of a revolution. Setting the stage for others to find their self-worth and be valued by those they surround themselves with, and in-turn turning their backs on the outdated sexism of the past. If you’ve ever found yourself grossly undermined by the world, or even those nearest and dearest, ‘Crazy’ is that pick-me-up anthem that’s here to remind it’s really not you, it’s them - they’ll never be pleased no matter how hard you try. Give it a spin on your own time to dance away the frustrations and perhaps start to carve your own way too.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

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