Tumgik
#WHAT IS HAPPENING. HOW DID I GET HERE
hella1975 · 2 months
Text
born to write fanfiction forced to go to pilates
48 notes · View notes
unpretty · 3 months
Text
earlier today andrew was like, "hey, check this out" and turned their phone around to show me an image of a pair of dreamworks eyebrow sunglasses before swiping to show me another image of the sunglasses and bask in my horror
but the pictures were on tumblr and they accidentally swiped the wrong direction in the image viewer
so from my perspective what happened was that andrew was like, "hey, check this out" and turned their phone around to show me an image of a pair of dreamworks eyebrow sunglasses before swiping dramatically to reveal an unrelated image of stuart little, watching me expectantly for a reaction that never came
4K notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
A new challenger approaches (slowly)
[First] Prev <–-> Next
1K notes · View notes
sualne · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
i used to think he was cool
654 notes · View notes
gulducock · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
look at this pic i found on twitter
9K notes · View notes
front-facing-pokemon · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡
#may 31th anon#hello friends!! (。’▽’。)♡ how are you!! I missed you so much!#I'm sorry that once again i have not been posting but I did that thing again where I got scared of posting#I do not know why but it is the same with physical paper diarys#I have 3 diarys and they all have 1 entry#I think one just says 'I am ten'#what have you been up to!! did you do something fun? is it summer too where you live? c:#my tumblr messages seem to be broken! I'm sorry if you wrote something :C it just says 'no new messages' despite also saying new messages#not a lot has happened here! I got a tomato plant and then I got very invested into the tomato plant and I have eaten three tomatos so far (#my roses are also doing well!! I just got a new yellow rose and since she got here she only made orange flowers#I do not know the meaning of that#but I am very thankful! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ I love it when things are orange!!#I've been trying to buy an orange shirt for the past 2 weeks but they always sell out before I get to them#I'm also thinking about buying a jean jacket#I have not worn a jean jacket for at least 15 years because one time in 7th grade  tthe girl behind me said#that I was wearing a cool jean jacket and I just assumed that this was bullying for no actual reason#but maybe she just thought that it was an acutal cool jean jacket#we'll soon have out 10 year school reunion#maybe I should ask her#is anyone else going to a secret Sherlock phase again#I just want to see that silly little hat again#would sherlock holmes wear a jean jacket#have a nice day everyone!!#see you soon hopefully!!#♡^▽^♡
1K notes · View notes
corvidcleric · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
[start i.d.: a drawing of lark and sparrow oak done in yellows and blues. in the foreground, in their soccer uniforms, they lean back to back with their arms crossed. they’re smiling, colored in yellow and framed by a gold explosion shape. behind them, faded in the color of the background, are their adult selves looking out vacantly. end i.d.]
you’re just a boy you are no man and nobody you know will understand
827 notes · View notes
afewproblems · 8 months
Text
Season 2 Halloween Party AU Part Two
You can read part one here!
***
Eddie can't help but steal glances at his passenger as he starts the engine while Steve buckles himself in. 
A streetlight flickers overhead bathing the front seat in strobing gold light; it's so distracting Eddie nearly misses the way Steve's hands tighten around the seatbelt, a slight tremor running through them.
The other man looks exhausted but incredibly on edge, his back straight and shoulders stiff. Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Steve scans the dark street ahead of them. 
If he's so embarrassed to be seen with the town freak, he can just get out and walk home.
Eddie almost says as much, but shakes the words off and flicks the small Snoopy bobblehead on the dash, before reaching for the edge of the passenger seat.
He feels Steve flinch at the sudden movement as Eddie braces himself on the seat to look out the rearview window. 
Eddie tamps down the flicker of irritation that burns in his chest, he hadnt taken Harrington for a Bible thumping asshole that would believe the rumours circling Eddie, but then again, Eddie didn't really know Steve. 
Eddie backs out of the space slowly, no need to wreck the paint even more by hitting some suburban moms stationwagon after all. He shifts into drive and pulls away from the street and the flashing lights of Tina's party behind them.
Steve is quiet as they drive, and as the sound of the dull throbbing bass and party goers begins to fade into the background, Steve slowly begins to curls inwards, tugging his arms around himself.
Eddie's eyes flick between Steve and the road, he's still not looking at Eddie, just out the window with a blank expression. It's the most quiet he's ever seen King-Steve, it's unsettling.
But, the more Eddie thinks about it, that really isn't true.
King-Steve hasn't been King of anything for awhile now, Tommy Hagan has seen to that. 
Steve has been keeping to himself more and more, preferring to hang out with Wheeler and,  surprisingly, Byers of all people. 
Eddie isn't sure he'd ever be able to comfortably sit at a cafeteria table with someone who cleaned his clock, but Steve makes it look easy.
Eddie sneaks another glance and startles to find that Steve is already looking at him. He's chewing his lip, his eyebrows pinched and Eddie can't help but feel as though he's being evaluated somehow.
Great.
"Actually, you know what," Steve says after they've turned down yet another subdivision, just one street shy before the main road, "you can just drop me off up here, my house is close".
"You sure?" Eddie asks, ignoring the frustration that rises in his chest once more, "I can drive you the rest of the way, it's not like we don't all know where the King's Domaine is".
Eddie watches as Steve's expression turns stony for the barest of moments before it shutters.
"Okay". 
Eddie nods with a grimace. He isn't even sure what he wanted to happen tonight, but it wasn’t this. 
Eddie makes a left and another right before pulling into the long drive of the Harrington house.
It used to make him scoff whenever he dealt here. The huge house, the lavish furnishings and fixtures. For fucks sake, the master bath had two sinks and the closet was almost as big as his own bedroom. 
But now as the engine dies and a strange silence falls on the pair, Eddie can't help but notice just how dark the house is. 
"Your parents here?" Eddie says, craning his neck to see the upstairs windows, he doesn't even notice Steve has unclicked himself from the passenger seat until the door is open and he's halfway out of the van. 
"Woah--"
"Thanks for the ride," Steve calls over his shoulder, "see you around Munson".
Eddie barely has time to open his mouth in protest before Steve is unlocking his door and slamming it behind him, leaving Eddie in the van alone. 
He sits for a second before sighing and turning the key once more, coaxing the engine back to life. Eddie turns again, bracing his hand on the passenger seat, debating if he should head back to the party, before he spots something on the floor shining in the glow of the streetlights.
A pair of large black sunglasses, and there's no doubt who they belong to.
"Well shit," Eddie hums thoughtfully as he bends forward to grab the glasses from the floor, "guess I'll be seeing you sooner than we thought".
***
The first bell rings as Eddie closes his locker, he looks out across the sea of teenagers making their way to homeroom before the second bell and smirks. 
Eddie should also be hurrying, considering how far his locker is from his first period class, but there's something about the way the teachers glare as he saunters in late that just fuels him.
Eddie smirks as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, the metal lunchbox inside clangs against something and Eddie winces at the sound. Shit.
He moves the pack off his shoulder and unzips the top, reaching inside to grab the sunglasses from where they've become trapped beneath his lunchbox. 
They aren't broken thankfully, Eddie's sure that Harrington wouldn't appreciate his gesture nearly as much if they came back cracked or bent. 
The thought makes Eddie stop for just a moment before he opens his locker again to place the sunglasses on the top shelf. Why is he even doing this? It's not as though King-Steve would appreciate this, he probably doesn't even know the glasses are missing. 
What does Eddie care about some asshole jock? 
An image of Steve with his head in his hands, his hazel eyes wet and wide as he looks up at Eddie has him slamming his locker shut, mortified by the unbidden thought. 
It's a complete betrayal of his own God damned doctrine, and worse, Steve is straight. All Eddie is doing is hurting himself in the long run with all his pointless pining.
Especially over someone that didn't want to be seen getting into his van last night. 
Eddie leans his head onto his locker and knocks it harshly against the metal, stupid.
The second bell rings and the last of the stragglers leave him alone in the hallway. Eddie taps his fingers on the locker and pushes himself away as he makes his way to the main door, throwing his backpack over his shoulder once more. 
He needs a smoke, and definitely doesn't need Mrs. McBrayden telling him off for not handing in yet another essay today. 
Whatever, it isn't as though Eddie hasn't read Macbeth, he knows that stupid play backwards and forwards --the witches speech is absolutely full of kickass creepy language and was perfect for this one campaign he ran a few years ago. 
Eddie could tell you all the major themes and conflicts no problem, it was writing it in such a way that his teacher would believe he actually wrote it that was the issue.
The last time Eddie actually tried on one of his assignments, he had been immediately accused of plagiarizing someone else's work. 
So, why bother. 
Eddie's already got a cigarette between his lips as he pushes the door open and makes his way to his favorite picnic table by the treeline when he hears a familiar voice behind the gym.
"Tell me--"
"Tell you what?" another voice scoffs, a woman's this time.
Eddie pokes his head tentatively around the corner, spotting the man he had driven home just the night before and his girlfriend alone, clearly fighting.
"Tell me," Steve says firmly, even as his voice waivers, "you love me".
Wheeler stands there, her arms wrapped tightly around her books, "really?"
The word comes out, wrapped in a smile, like it's a joke. 
Steve doesn't move, he doesn't laugh, he doesn't make a sound. 
Nancy's mouth opens and closes as her blue eyes search Steve's face for a long time. She tries for a laugh again, but her smile cracks as Steve continues to stand there expectantly.
Eddie can't see Steve's face from where he's standing but he does hear the low curse he lets out eventually before turning abruptly, swinging a towel over his shoulder as he jogs back to the field to join the rest of the class.
Well shit.
Eddie watches Nancy as she remains rooted to the spot, her face tipped down to the gravel. She breathes out a long sigh and raises one hand to brush through her hair before it drops heavily at her side. 
Eddie can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy as he slowly turns away, shaking his head as he continues to the picnic table. 
He lights the cigarette as he takes a seat facing the school, letting the edge of the table dig into his back. He pulls a long drag from the cigarette and breathes out, watching as the smoke billows away in the cool November air.
If it wasn't officially over last night, it definitely was now. The priss and the jock were no more, and knowing Hawkins?
It would be all over the school by lunch.
Part Three up!
Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123
and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @strangersteddierthings @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads
760 notes · View notes
originalaccountname · 6 months
Text
putting my hands on your shoulders looking directly into your eyes why are you so insistent that Dazai is faking every emotion every second of every day except when he's acting mean or evil why do you think his dark side is more true than his happier or sillier sides
do you not also have multiple facets you show different people? are we not all beautiful multifaceted individuals? are your actions and reactions not influenced by your emotions and state of mind?
can't he laugh at his own jokes? can't he fondly think of the Agency? can't he be dramatic because he wants to? can't he be surprised by something suddenly happening, even if he knew it would happen? do you not jump when the jack in the box gets out even if you were the one working the mechanism?
why would the mean persona be more real? why would any and all joy be faked? why are you only allowing him misery?
#sorry i saw one too many posts talking about dazai's ''masks'' and how he hides his true self from the ada#and what of it if he still has the potential to hurt others? what of it if he's good at hurting? every day he chooses not to lean into it#not too far at the very least.#isn't kyouk.a skilled at killing? did she not choose not to do it?#i'm not saying dazai's never acting (because it does happen) i'm saying too many people are too quick to brush off-#every non-serious non-mean emotion as ''playing an act''#why would the mean persona not be a fake?? you thought about that??? what biases are you holding here#he makes jokes. he acts silly. he's a drama queen. he loves it.#you know what IS tiring? having to look evil and untouchable and impassive in front of a whole organization every day as a teenager#as soon as he gets to lupin with od.a and ang.o he goes silly mode. heck- when he *met* ang.o it was because he went silly mode.#as soon as chuuy.a is in proximity he starts yelling children's insults and starts stupid competitions#his silly mode is just as integrated into his personality as the capacity to be the scariest most evil person you've seen#they are not mutually exclusive and having the capacity for either does not mean acting on them#as asagiri said in an interview: bsd isn't about change it's about adaptation. kyouk.a has the talent to kill. she just chooses not to.#dazai has the skills to be evil. he just chooses good.#that got long in the tags sorry#apparently i talk sometimes
314 notes · View notes
cryptid-condor · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the deer prince and the golden doe
from chapter 34 of Salt00's fic Chick Magnet
please click for HD tumblr is killing this one
151 notes · View notes
jtl-fics · 11 months
Text
Fluent Freshman - Part 19
PREVIOUS
There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.
1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.
He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).
So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.
So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.
He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.
He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.
Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.
He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.
Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.
(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)
This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.
2.  Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.
After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)
But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.
For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.
This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.
Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).
FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.
Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.
He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.
Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.
Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.
Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.
He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.
Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.
FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.
FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.
After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)
He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.
FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?
The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-
The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.
He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.
He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.
He is ULTRA stealth.
Romero’s gaze glides over him.
Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).
His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)
His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.
Well fuck.
He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).
He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.
He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.
He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.
He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.
He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.
He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.
He pretends to be on a phone call.
“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.
He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).
He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.
He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“
“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.
“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.
“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.
“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.
“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.
“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.
FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’
Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.
“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.
HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.
“I’d like that.” He says.
He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.
‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’
The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.
“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.
The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.
There really are some kind people in the world.
“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.
The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.
“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.
He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.
He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.
His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…
He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.
(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)
He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.
He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.
Jackson Plank.
FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.
Okay now what genius?
Tumblr media
MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.
Per your requests:
@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion​ @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​
The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.
As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?
Lillyndra it worked this time!!!
#Fluent Freshman AU#Is it a songfic chapter if it's only 3 lines? Experts aren't sure#Did I listen to lose yourself a lot while writing this chapter? Perhaps#If Nora mentioned something about Jackson or Romero in her extras I did not read it#Also gonna be honest here and state that I forgot the likely year that AFTG happened in and this is happening in 2010#So I guess this AU also involves a slight time shift#Andrew and Neil may have gotten lost in one another's eyes a bit down in the speakeasy#Really they're just being polite to get all of their PDA out of the way while FF is taking what might be the piss of a lifetime.#(They have no idea how accurate that might be)#Andrew is all set to kiss one of his favorite of Neil's freckles (yes he has ordered them from favorite to lesser favorite)#Then his phone goes off#He looks and it's Roland#Andrew: WTF is Roland trying to call me?#Nicky is busy being the Dancing Queen. If someone plays ABBA he will absolutely scream rn#I had considered a whole sequence of FF trying to get Nicky and Aaron to the safety of the backroom in Eden's#And Nicky just keeps reappearing on the dancefloor while FF is looking for Aaron#I was gonna use that simpsons meme where Moe throws out Barney and then Barney is just right back in the bar#But it got a little too crazy#But just know in this AU Nicky is canonically an excellent escape artist#Maybe Erik went through a bit of a magician phase and Nicky was DELIGHTED to be asked to be his assistant#Maybe that's how they got together#The inherent ROMANCE of magician and assistant#I don't remember if they ever really said in the books or nora's content#If I'm rambling because I forgot to shut off my alarm (Memorial Day 4-day weekend baby)#The fate of FF's phone may have been caused by some slight anger towards my own#RIP FF's Wymack phone (July 2010 - November 2010)#AFTG#AFTG AU#Andreil#FF - Pt.19
417 notes · View notes
qangelbluebird · 2 months
Text
Creation = The Thing (from the tubhole?)
Primary Protector (Creator (not used but could be)) = Tubbo
Rank 1 Shell = Sunny
Guardian = Philza
Shell (in general) = Eggs
Pancake Shell = Empanada
The Mother of Pancake Shell = Bagi
Duck Shell = Chayanne
Trauma Shell = Tallulah
119 notes · View notes
heartslobbf · 8 months
Text
heterophobic nanami real
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: two screenshots from 'revolutionary girl utena' of nanami and touga standing in the rose garden. nanami imploringly clings to touga, who stands stiffly with his face obscured from the audience. in the first screenshot, nanami says: 'i know i have to accept that you go out with girls.'
in the second screenshot, nanami continues: 'but don't go out with a girl like her!' /end ID]
151 notes · View notes
jacksprostate · 4 months
Text
Bob in female fight club au. Thoughts
Probably named Marge
Rather than doing a direct inversion (ie making the character the exact opposite, much tits -> no tits, etc) I think sort of an analogue would work better riffing off the motherly role Bob has, in combination with the group being for uterine cancer/ovarian cancer
The women come together, and they cry, cry, cry, over lost husbands, who left them because they got cancer, because overwhelmingly, men leave if their wife gets cancer, over lost relationships with children, who stayed but resent them, over lost Motherhood, that thing you were told was your worth but now you are told you're shit. Remaining Women Together. Despite. Despite despite despite.
What is it, about purposes. Want to see misery, see women fed their own physical oppression as lost salvation.
Marge, whatever her name is, her husband divorced her, left her with the kids and medical bills stacked as high as she is tall. She is thankful she still has her kids, it makes her feel like she's still worth something. She's had to try and get back into the workforce. No one wants to hire dear former stay at home mother Marge. She shows you her kids in her wallet in her purse and there are no pictures of her. There's a picture of her old husband, which she keeps to show her kids if they ask. They're old enough to go to school now, which is good, because it gives her more time to work. Life is hard, but she's doing her best.
Marge, who is on hormone therapy so she doesn't get those "side effects" she's heard about from other total hysterectomy patients, the future of early dementia and degeneration and horror. Who does pelvic floor exercises in hopes it will minimise the fallout of the surgery. Who carefully rips every hair out of her upper lip and chin because even if it would be normal for a woman, a woman whose gone through menopause, a woman at all — she knows, it's probably the estrogen tipping back over into testosterone, and she can't handle any more losses. She compensates. They all do.
The support group is her Me Time. It is the single hour plus half hour commute she can afford once a week for herself. So she gets here, and she cries, cries, cries, and the others cry with her, all over how their lives have fallen apart since they got ovarian cancer, got breast cancer, and their lives derailed because they can't be proper women anymore.
They cry in their waterproof makeup. Another product to promise womanhood. Identify yourself via consumption. Identify yourself by covering yourself up.
And when she finds fight club. When she finds something that says, jesus fuck. You are more than your children. You are more than your ability to have kids. You aren't a failed woman, that's a sack of shit you've been sold wholesale. When she finds something that promises her she will grow, achieve personhood, not because she was the ultimate martyr mother, not because she played the game of human or woman, but because it promises a freedom from all that, identification and repulsion of such sickening chains. When she stops worrying about her slightly deepened voice, and works to keep her dose even keel for her health, to avoid the toxic highs of accidentally juicing, rather than the lesser effects of a black lip hair or two. When she has a photo, not of herself in her wallet, but of the things she makes with other women from fight club, of the one view of the sunset from that one parking lot that she always thought was wonderful, when she has things in her wallet for her and her enjoyment. When she has corded muscle and a built up spine, when she sits her kids down and explains why they only see dad one weekend every other month, all the fun holidays, because dad decided staying with her through cancer was too hard even when she stayed with him through four lost jobs pissed away in alcohol and lottery tickets.
And Marge, who gets shot by the police on a regulation chill-and-drill assignment for Project Mayhem. Whose obituary in the newspaper talks about the children she left behind, how she battled cancer and kept caring for them, how she was such a strong mother, whose kids would now be shipped off to their grieving father who is so, so brave and stunning for standing up and taking care of the kids he made and dropped as soon as his live-in servant had a few issues. Her name is Marge Paulson, and she was forty-eight years old. She was a person. She will be remembered in the annals of Project Mayhem, lest what little there was of her be stolen from the world. She was killed by Project Mayhem, but they're the only ones who will remember Marge Paulson.
76 notes · View notes
grandcovenant · 4 months
Text
carlo's inherent tragedy as a character means that if he hadn't died young he would've gone through something worse. the horrifying realization that he inherited his father's personality <3
85 notes · View notes