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spicy-apple-pie · 5 months

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STOP PITTING THE GIRLS AGAINST EACH OTHER!!!!!!

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cto10121 · 3 months

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Probably my most seamless lyrics for the show thus far, ngl. I did have to change and tweak some lines for singability, but otherwise it’s the same as my draft. This song is just…so suited for English, it’s crazy. Anyhoo, here is how they are supposed to be sung.

Ships in the Night (Boote in der Nacht)

Elisabeth Love can do wonders But even the greatest love can fail Faith can be strong But sometimes our faith cannot prevail We dreamed of glories, but They never came to be Now it’s time to face the facts For you and me

You and I are two ships in the night Each one bound for other land and passing out of sight We had met just once in the sea And came close and true as could be But what we could have had is lost in night

Franz Joseph You’ve longed for greatness But sometimes a little can atone

Elisabeth You’ve always dreamt so small

Franz Joseph We live too long in darkness To bear it all alone

Elisabeth I can’t live mine at your call

Both If only you could see My world through my eyes Then you would listen to me And realize:

You and I are two ships in the night Each one bound for other land and passing out of sight We had met just once in the sea And came close and true as could be But happiness for us was not our right

Elisabeth You and I, we are like two ships in the night Each one bound for other routes and passing out of sight

Franz Joseph (simultaneously) Believe me I need you I love you How can we say goodbye?

Don’t leave me I need you I love you How can we let love die?

Both Now we stand once more on the shore More alone than ever before And what we could have had is lost in night

Franz Joseph I love you

Elisabeth What can’t be Even in love Cannot be...

#elisabeth das musical #elisabeth musical #boote in der nacht #cristina sings #my lyrics #unfortunately #just pretend your favorite musical theater actors is singing #i do lol #elisabeth english

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lieximhuman · 5 months

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*can range from only sometimes to always

#I do lol #not always just when I’m confused if it’s symmetrical or not #poll

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prairieslut · 1 month

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Triumph on his hips<3

#I do lol #thoughts #the last dinner party

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sentanixiv · 1 year

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Always Something [AO3] [T] John and Arthur debate whether it was worth it, killing one bounty to secure three others. Cost, cause, and consequence; and then a hint of Morston, because this is me we’re talking about. Inspired by bounty hunting in RDO, wherein we tried real hard to lasso that fourth bounty. Turns out the bullet is mightier than the rope.

Dust settles, blood congeals, and the world carries on. There’s no care to the lives and losses of its denizens, nor tribute to the sacrifices made to make ends meet. Little more than the tip of a hat, nary a ‘thank you, sir’ before the next demand sweeps away the success of the last.

Toil and tedium that ain’t unfamiliar, the days long and the work unending when there’re nearer twenty mouths needing feeding. That ain’t cheap and might be the reality of it’s why Arthur huffs out a breath as he counts the bills from this nobody town’s sheriff. Payout for turning in four of the county’s more notorious criminals, but ain’t quite the windfall he’d aimed for when riding out.

John sits astride his mare, rubbing blood from his gloves to smear on his pants as he nods towards the meagre jail building. “Three outta four ain’t bad,” he remarks. Pulls his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow, the day’s heat heavy on them after three hours of hard riding, running, and shooting – to the lessening of their reward.

“Four outta four’s better,” Arthur drawls. He nods towards the rear of the building, where a pair of boots lie – owner still attached, lifeless from the bullet through his chest. Dead costs ‘em on bounties, always has.

Silence is golden, and lasts about four beats before John sighs. “It’s always something with you,” he mutters with a shake of his head.

Arthur tucks the bundle of bills into his satchel, resettles his weight in the saddle, and looks out past the town’s boundaries. “I ain’t the one what got trigger happy and killed the fourth,” he replies easily, irritation fraying the worn patchwork of his patience.

“He was runnin’, what else was I s’pposed to do?”

“You got this thing, John. It’s called a rope and y’use it to hogtie ‘em so’s we can bring them in alive.”

The way Arthur says it, slow and simple like John is, well, slow and simple? Grates his nerves and shortens his temper. “I weren’t leaving you to run ‘im down and mess with that,” he grumbles, brushing uselessly at the blood on his pant leg.

“I had it handled.”

“You had shit”!

The accusation comes with an angry gesture to the blood on Arthur’s sleeve, where two separate bullets carved a line into his jacket, shirt, and through his skin. He flexes that hand and it moves, proof that this wound won’t kill him any more than the dozens before it have. “They was hardly hittin’ me,” he replies, flat. His tone brokers no argument.

Oh, but of course John Marston does broker one, fool as he is determined to be. “There were five guys, three of ‘em bounties!” he snaps, agitated. “You was about to become holier than the damn church if I ain’t been there to cover you.”

“I had it handled, Marston!”

Arthur reins his horse about, reaches over to haul John with a fistful of his shirt, leaves the man balanced precarious between his mount, Arthur’s hand, and the ground. “You ain’t so good with doin’ what yer told,” he snarls, them threads of patience snapped. “I told you to run that feller down and now we got shorted ten damn dollars because you wanted to play hero!”

“Ten dollars don’t mean nothing if yer dead!”

Something in them words kills Arthur’s anger, silences him, and loosens his hold long enough that John pushes back from him, pulls himself back centre in the saddle. Tugs down his shirt to smooth it, muttering under his breath. “Yer damn stupid some days, Morgan.”

Arthur catches his senses where they was scattered to the winds, fingers flexing in the emptied space here he’d dragged John. Realizes it and drops his hand with a scowl, pulls his hat down low. The way his head tucks, the way it pulls shadows over his face, says there ain’t more worth talking ‘bout here if John values his life.

John considers it, thinks real long, then lets out a sigh and starts down the main road. “C’mon, sunshine,” he calls back when Arthur doesn’t move to follow. “I’ll buy you a drink, maybe it’ll rinse off that sour look.”

#kichi writes #rdr2 #john marston #arthur morgan #morston #if you want to read it that way #i do lol #bounty hunting

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essektheylyss · 1 year

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✨👻 for the ask meme! :)

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

Secret about me: adjectives are my part of speech weakness, especially on their own. HOWEVER I will pick: serpentine, meticulous, and luminous. :3

👻 What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up?

Oh man, I have a lot of concepts that I probably won't actually commit to, and plenty of wips that I won't go back to that haven't really seen the light of day but I've talked about.

I did have quite a while ago a Mighty Nein Inception AU concept, which I actually had pretty actively planned, but man the level of plot and subterfuge involved in trying to write it. It makes me feel tired just thinking about it. Which is very funny, given that it actually probably wouldn't be that long of a concept (film to prose tends to land around novella length unless you're making a concerted effort to write a novelization, which will of course be novel length), but the level of intricacy that would require is a lot and I just haven't had the time.

Though looking back at my notes is making me :fasteyes: about it so who knows, really!

(Ask me a fic writer question?)

#thank you for the questions!!! <3 #also I'll be honest; I'm still not sure if that question was intended to be 'compliment' or as written #but I think this answer works for both!#dunno if other people would consider 'serpentine' or 'meticulous' as complimentary but #I do lol #writing ask game

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sometimes-men-need-help-too · 2 years

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You ever just think about the myspace era and feel old lol

#i do lol

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phantomgl1tchh · 1 year

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Wagner Collins; Continued

A loud bang rang throughout the familiar sterile-gray facility. Loud noises were normal here if he was being honest; recruits training in secluded rooms, learning how to use weapons quickly and effectively. But this was different, it wasn’t muffled. Wasn’t controlled. Wasn’t a test. No. Someone had broken in. Someone who knew their way around, what he assumed to be some sort of rifle, got inside.

He knelt beside a wall, peeking over the corner as he readied his own weapon; a syringe full of the same compound that was used on him and countless other subjects in their youth. This mysterious compound, the name of which eluded him at the moment, gave others superhuman abilities. Powers only heard of in fantasy books and sci-fi comics.

Perhaps if the intruder made their way to him he’d be able to… test… the compound. Observe the effects of the element on an adult body. Previously the mixture was given to young children; smuggled in with their vaccines, or given when no doctors were present. They’re more susceptible to change, less of a risk.

Syringe in hand he stalked forward, alert to all pin-drop noises. From the smallest breath to the loudest scream of fear that echoed throughout the building. To the silent footsteps of the intruder made their way down the hall, escaping with some sort of research.

He quickly dove behind a sterilizing table, a loud thump echoing through the hall. He listened as two sets of footsteps made their way down the corridor; their menacing aura filling every crevice, every gap and crack, filling the room with vengeance and fear. He felt his heart rate spike as the footsteps grew closer, closer. The menacing thump, thump, thump of combat boots and the click, click, click of some other type of shoe meeting the metal floor. This person, or people, knew their business, how to survive, how to operate in fields of battle. They were experienced mercenaries, soldiers, fighters, or something dangerous. Something seething, ready to strike.

His eyes snapped up and he cocked his head to the side, ready to pounce. His hands wrapped around the syringe so tightly he thought the glass would shatter, piercing his incredibly pale skin. The footsteps ceased and the familiar sound of a weapon being drawn met his ears. His pale crimson eyes met with the end of a steel pipe. Ice-cold panic surged painfully through his chest as he glanced up, meeting the familiar blue gaze he despised.

“Wagner,” a young, hushed voice muttered bitterly. Her blue eyes glaring and her weapon following his every move, ready to strike if he so much as moved the wrong way. His heart fell to his throat, “never thought I’d see you again, you illiterate inbred.”

A resentful chuckle left his lips. His thick, white hair swayed with the movement of him standing, the syringe falling and clattering to the ground, his hands raised in surrender, “and I never thought I’d see your traitorous face again either Wren- or… no, Erin now, right? Finally see your life is your own again or whatever nonsense the Jays have been filling your head with.” he retorted, scoffing.

A resentful smile decorated his chapped lips, his voice dripped with bitter sarcasm and disbelief, “oh, and I see that you have RAVEN 001 with you, couldn’t leave it behind, could you? Oh, how sweet, you have someone who actually cared about you. A, uh… brother, that didn’t leave you behind, a brother that wanted-”

Cold anger filled her icy glare as he talked, her good hand dropped swiftly from her weapon, the weight of it balancing on her prosthetic hand for a moment as she passed it to her companion. His faux hands took it from her, the metal of the pipe and the metal compound of his hand clicking together, two worlds of metal meeting for the first time.

The movement was lightning quick, leaving him no chance of reacting.

Next thing he knew he was falling to the floor, his face exploding with searing, red-hot pain. His skull made a signature crack, colliding with the metal floor harshly. He felt the heel of a boot press into his knee, he swore he felt it dislocate. His eyes snapped open, a startled yet pained cry erupting from his throat.

The blond girl kneeled next to him, her prosthetic hand digging into the fabric of his dark gray trench coat, hauling him forward. Her enraged face half a foot away from his, he could see the depth of the scar under her right eye, he hoped it hurt.

Petrified, he scanned the room looking for any sort of barrier he could put between the two, to keep distance between them, something to get him out when Erin spoke up again.

“My brother went missing in the field during the attack two years ago, he's missing. He didn’t.. didn’t leave me behind.” she sneered, voice faltering at the end of her sentence.

Her unsettling blue eyes pierced his soul to the ground, leaving it with no chance of escape. Her hand released its grip on his coat, causing his body to hit the steel floor again, red filled his vision and his body gave out, giving up the urge to fight back.

She stood back up, taking the pipe from her companion, keeping an eye on Wagner, ensuring he wouldn’t try anything foolish or dangerous. She watched and cracked her neck, the faux skin around her throat stretching as she craned it from side to side, releasing any tension and stress trapped within before she began walking away.

Though she stopped after a few feet, the familiar echoing of shoes coming to a halt, and looked back at the semi-conscious scientist. At one point he maintained her MICROSYSTEM and prosthetic arm, giving it any repairs or upgrades it might need. An odd look of betrayal and resentment dotted her pale face “and for the record, his name is Nickolai.”

And she was gone, leaving Wagner behind in the deteriorating, vile building. He felt his consciousness fogging over, felt it giving into the sweet release of indefinite rest. No more stress, no more tests. Just ignorant and eternal peace. A lasting peace that he would feel for the first time in 27 long years, the peace that his soul desperately needed. But no, his heart would not allow it. He wouldn’t let that happen. He resented the idea of her winning like this, winning the battle against testing the element.

No, he had to test the revised compound, observe its effects, compare them to the old compound, win. He found himself reaching weakly towards where he dropped the syringe, gently patting the metal floor for any trace of it, a small drop, a puddle, broken glass, anything.

He found himself growing desperate for it, his mind reeling with fear of death, of hatred and distain for Erin and her idiotic sense of self-worth, of ruthless anger for all those who told for him to hide his ideals and ways of learning. He needed to get the syringe.

The familiar feeling of a smooth rounded surface met the tips of his broken fingers. Waves of hope flooded through his chest; if he could just wrap the rest of his hand around it, he’d have a second chance. He’d get out of the facility for good, and he could finally observe the effects of the revised element. Watch Erin finally lose, watch everything she cared for burn and sink to hell.

His fingers hooked around the metal casing. The clattering of thin glass met his ears and he held his breath. If the glass broke, he was done for. Countless hours and days of careful research would be for nothing, he would die with nothing to show for his legacy, his past.

A moment later, the syringe was safely encased in his fingers; luck had shone her gratuitous smile onto him, giving him a second chance at life, a second chance to get it right, a chance at revenge. He pulled himself up, using the table filled with sterilizing equipment as support for his weak frame.

The protective plastic coating the needle was removed with bruised and shaky fingers. Those same fingers tapped the glass a few times, ensuring any air pockets inside the liquid bubbled to the surface and out of the compound, keeping the liquid clear and safe to inject.

Without a second thought, he brought the needle up to his wrist, briefly scanning for the blue lines that indicated where his blood flowed. Then he stabbed, injecting every last drop of the compound into his bloodstream, ensuring none went to waste. He could worry about making more later.

#writing blog #creative writing #writing #original fiction #original content #original work #original character #original story #villain protagonist #antagonist #antagonist backstory #prequel #original characters #original worlds #Wagner is albino #is he a bad guy???#who tf know.#i do lol

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sleepy-bebby · 9 months

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#hamster #memes #meme #cute #funny #cute animals #animals #wholesome #funny memes #hamster meme #hamster memes #ninja #dank #dank meme #dank memes #lol #westerners whining in the tags about his enclosure as if I can do anything about it is hilarious. yaaaaawn dgaf shut up

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dovesick · 4 months

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endless night

#animal art #animal comic #penguin art #comic art #artists on tumblr #just a comic about emperor penguins #(they are emperor penguins but yellow didn’t go with the colour scheme loool)#(i tried to make it work just trust me lol)#i keep forgetting to upload here woops #sometimes i don’t wanna draw anthros #i’ve been wanting to experiment again #i have a couple pieces planned #but i also wanna do more horror #rlyyyyy hard to decide lmaoooo

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liquidstar · 6 months

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If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)

At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.

Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.

#i think about this story sometimes like yeah I'm proud of them for that too actually. good job baby brothers #they're not babies anymore of course they're turning 20 next year which is crazy #but they're still the type of people who'd do something if they saw something of this sort happen for sure #respectful of women and everyone else too. they're good guys #I'm glad I ended up with them living in my house against my will for like 14 years #anyway i have no idea where i was for all this but my best guess is probably a friends house given the time period #i was always at my besties house lol #i hope she's doing well too actually. haven't spoken in forever...#bestie from greek elementary school... if you're out there... let's get muffins and fanta at the bakery across the street again someday 💜☮️

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inkskinned · 4 months

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i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

#spilled ink #warm up #“why did u tag it warm up” bc i wrote it off the cuff while drinkin coffee lol #btw the 30 dollar buy in for the dog walking is bc they pay the organizer a small pittance so she can #run fb ads and stuff and like she does put in a lot of work i don't mind paying her #but that's exactly what im fucking talking about like.#ppl can't afford to volunteer their time anymore and we all understand it!!! everything costs money for everyone!#like we didn't have to use to say ''do you mind paying me back for the stuff we ate''#we used to be able to afford to feed our friends once in a while!!!

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aceofstars16 · 28 days

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Reblog if you are okay with people giving you lots of boops!

#I just boop a lot in return for even one boop 😂#april fool's day #boop war #what do we call it?#I don’t know lol #booping

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moregraceful · 3 months

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Bought my uncle a burger and milkshake in exchange for letting me disrupt the holiest day of the week, NFL Sunday Football, so I could install a Pi-hole and free the household of ads...the thing abt the specific boomers I live with is they told me not to trust people on the Internet but they do not understand the algorithm or online advertising and think that Facebook has their best interests at heart. And every time I have tried to explain to them that no, blorbo from my dashboard is not selling my kidneys on the dark web but Google from your capitalism is definitely selling your web searches to every advertising company on the planet, they think I am paranoid. How could their personal friend Mark Zuckerberg want anything bad to happen to them etc. I am fighting battles I did not know existed!!!

#i simply. do not wish to see ads #anyway that took me and beryl 2 hours to set up DO NOT ask me anything #i was definitely better at linux systems when i was in high school lol #fresno oilers.txt

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sandersstudies · 1 year

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Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!

Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.

#see great gatsby #or wuthering heights #I LOVE wuthering heights #but do I give a shit about any of those bitches?#lol no

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epicsauce · 9 months

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learning that self deprecation isnt cool and just makes the people around you uncomfortable unironically improved my mental health a lot. like if you just stop saying negative shit about yourself you will genuinely like yourself more and other people wont be repulsed by your attitude and you will have more friends. it's true.

#people will fr go ''god im such an ugly loser LOL i suck at everything i do and i should just kms“#and then go “why does no one want to be around me”#maybe because your attitude sucks. maybe because i said 'those mean things you say about yourself arent true'#and you spent five minutes arguing with me about how im wrong.#00

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