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saltydumplings · 10 months

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Hi, I’m not really sure how this works but I was wondering if you could write a lil short story/snippet of villain x reporter were villain find reporter following then after a big battle?

thank you in advance!! 💙

Oh my god I did it. I wrote a request for the first time in months, oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--

Request #29

There was blood on their left shoulder. The villain huffed in annoyance, wiping at the stain with one hand and grimacing when it smudged.

That fight had been unnecessary.

The hero had instigated it - the villain giving them ample opportunity to stand down but their enemy was stubborn. Almost stupidly so. They took one look at the villain and decided that they couldn't possibly go one second longer without punching them in the face.

And, of course, the media would paint it as their fault. Because if the villain so much as breathed anywhere near the city centre then obviously their intentions were nothing short of nefarious. No, the villain didn't need to go grocery shopping at all: those bananas were clearly going to be the foundation for their next evil scheme - crucial some might say.

The villain groaned to themself as they walked down the alleyway, using their clean hand to pinch the bridge of their nose.

So much food had been wasted.

So much damage had been caused and for what?

If they were being honest, they weren't entirely sure if it was worth it anymore. If the cause that had led them to where they were still held out strong enough to reason days like this - destruction like this. Common destruction; everyday, needless, a mere swipe upon the hero's page but an ugly blot upon their own. The villain was supposed to be fighting for change but it seemed that everything they did only made the walls they were trying to tear down stronger. They were enabling the very thing they stood against and all the while they were hurting the people they were trying to save - trying to free from a society that never thought of them twice.

At this point, it was better to simply retire and let things return to the way they were. And, if in their misery they figured out a better way then perhaps they could try again...

The villain came to a sudden stop, wondering if they would truly give in right there and then, only to freeze at the sound of movement behind them. A short, scuffling noise - someone attempting to hide and not doing a very good job of it.

Surely the hero hadn't followed them?

The villain turned about, surveying the empty alley behind them, their gaze quickly honing in on a stack of crates. They waited patiently, silent, watching as their would-be stalker peered out from behind their cover and ducked down twice as fast - a small squeak of realisation echoing off the walls. Even if the villain hadn't seen them, they certainly would have heard that.

They let themself relax somewhat, rationalising that their pursuer was either a civilian or a moron. Perhaps even both...

"You realise that you're not exactly discreet, right?" they said.

There was a pause. A long one.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," the villain pushed. "Either you come out, or I drag you out. One--"

"No, no! N-No need for dragging!"

The villain felt their brows raising as their stalker revealed themself, quickly springing out from their hiding spot like a startled rabbit. They had been right: civilian and a moron. Though, when it came to members of the press, the villain couldn't really expect much else.

"I-I, um," the reporter stumbled on their words as the villain approached them, hands clutching onto their notepad shakily. "I just had a, er - a f-few questions. I-If that's alright with you, of course..."

Perhaps stubborn was a better word. Tenacious.

The villain had seen the way these people practically hovered around the hero. Had even seen one or two get punched by the crime-fighter out of pure annoyance and yet, still, more persisted to harass them.

None had ever attempted to approach the villain before though. None had ever dared...until now.

They stopped just centimetres away from the other, amused by the way the reporter held their ground even when they were clearly scared out of their mind.

"You get three questions," the villain allowed. "But I won't promise any answers."

The reporter's eyes widened. "W-Wait, only three?" they asked.

"Two now," the villain answered.

A beat.

The reporter floundered, opening and closing their mouth multiple times before hurriedly flicking through their notepad. Clearly they'd had their questions planned out - pages upon pages of them - but now they were having to choose only two.

The villain quirked a brow as they watched, foot starting to tap upon the ground while the seconds ticked by.

"Okay, I- no, no, h-hold on."

The reporter flicked back through their notes again, the villain tolerating it all of about five more seconds before snatching the pad from their hands and holding it out of their reach - the reporter giving a startled squeak before looking up at them with horror.

"G-Give that back," they said.

The villain smirked. "No."

"B-But--"

"But what?"

"I..." the reporter flushed, fingers twitching at their sides. "Could you please just give it back?"

The villain's grin grew sharper. "No. And you have one question left - better choose wisely."

"Wait, but that wasn't- I didn't- i-it--!"

"One question~" the villain chimed.

The reporter settled back into silence. Their gaze flicked between their notepad and the villain that held it, something surprisingly similar to a glare lining their expression. Were they about to...?

They did.

The reporter jumped up and snatched the notepad right from the villain's fingers, darting back immediately and flicking through it with frantic urgency.

Cheeky little--

Where the hell did these people get their courage from?

The villain went to snatch it back but the reporter raised their hand, reading out from the final page in an incomprehensible rush:

"DoyouthinkthatHeroshouldbeheldaccountableforthedamagetheycausewhenfightingyouanddoyoubelievethatthisdamageisnecessarywhenthwartingyourplans?"

The villain stopped. Blinked. "What did you just say to me?"

The reporter swallowed, taking in one steady breath before trying again more slowly. "Do you think that Hero should be held accountable for the damage they cause when fighting you, a-and do you believe that this damage is necessary when thwarting your plans?"

Of all the questions they could have asked, the villain had not expected it to be that. It stunned them: they were so used to people always taking the hero's side that they'd almost forgotten the rush of relief that came with being believed - that little thrill of confidence when you found out you weren't alone.

They paused, eyes wide as they studied the other in a new light. "No," they whispered.

"No?" the reporter questioned. They let themself relax a little - no longer cautious but rather curious.

"No," the villain clarified more strongly. "No: that damage is not necessary. And yes they should be held accountable for it - they shouldn't be allowed to use me as an escape goat for the destruction that they actively cause."

For a moment, the reporter's jaw went slack, fully engrossed in what they were saying. The second the villain stopped though they fumbled about their pockets, quickly fishing out a pen and clicking the lid off - taking a few scribbled notes before staring back up at the villain with shining eyes.

"Anything else?" they asked eagerly.

The villain flushed a little under the attention, and not in a bad way. The more they talked to the reporter the more likeable they became: the villain still thought they were stubborn - foolishly so - but they were beginning to recognise that it was more in a puppy-like way than anything truly annoying; the reporter was cute.

"They'll look for any excuse to attack me," they said, each word a small weight off their chest. "The papers will say that I was the one to initiate but I rarely am - that's just what the government wants you to believe. In fact, I'm sure Hero is instructed to be more reckless purposefully just to paint me in a worse light but that's never been my intention: never has been, never will be."

"I knew it!" the reporter said. Then they blushed when the villain raised a brow at them, ducking their head in a vague attempt to hide behind that tiny notebook of theirs. "I mean, I - I had some, er, speculations..."

The villain hummed. "Good speculations I'd hope."

The red of the reporter's cheeks darkened. "A-Any more comments you'd like to add?" they asked, changing the topic.

The villain had to resist the urge to sigh. Because yes; yes, they did. So many...but they didn't want to dump it all on the reporter at once and run the risk of losing the one person that they'd spoken openly to in years.

"What do you intend to do with this information?" they questioned back. "Do you plan to publish it?"

"W-Well, yes. If that's alright, o-of course." The reporter shuffled a little on their feet, suddenly shy. "Not in any of the major papers though - obviously. I mean, they would never let me... It's for a blog I write online. It's small but I-I like to think that it could grow to something bigger. Something that could, y-you know..."

"Change things?" the villain finished, watching as the reporter gave a small nod. "You want things to change?"

The reporter huffed. "Who doesn't?" they said.

The villain considered that a while. Considered it with a hesitation that they'd never had to deal with before. It was one thing to put themself at risk, it was a whole other thing entirely to then insert someone else into that same mess - to tangle them up in something that they could never get out of.

"How much?" the villain challenged. "How much do you want it?"

A pause.

The reporter swallowed, eyes glancing over the villain's frame in a studious way. "Why do I feel like you're giving me a massive, life-altering choice?"

"Because I am," the villain said simply.

"Oh."

The reporter fell silent again. Their gaze drifted away - focused back on the entrance of the alleyway that they'd followed the villain down before falling once more to stare at the notepad in their hands. They held it just a little tighter, lower lip caught between their teeth as they thought it through.

The villain waited patiently, a small excitement sparking within their chest when the reporter's attention drew back to them.

"More than anything," the other said, finally. "More than I can openly admit."

The other followed their direction without question. "O-Oh, right, yes I-- o-of course!"

The villain nodded. Smiled.

"Alright, then. So be it," they said. "You'll want to put that somewhere safe," they added as an afterthought, gesturing to the notepad in the reporter's hands.

They fumbled to put it away into a bag at their side, the villain watching them carefully as they did it.

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" they asked.

The reporter waved a hand dismissively whilst they struggled with the zip. "What, me? No, no, it - it's all work, work, work. I never really find the time for much else."

"So no one to expect you then?" the villain pursued. "No one you're meant to be seeing?"

"No, I--" The reporter paused, their eyebrows drawing down ever so slightly. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Because..."

The villain took a step forward then, hands reaching out to catch onto their shoulders. They pulled the reporter closer, the civilian's face flushing at the sudden contact - the sudden strong contact.

"I'm planning to enact my first official kidnapping," the villain said, "and I want everything to go as smoothly as possible."

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain #hero x villain #writeblr #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #villain #civilian

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lazyjellyfish300 · 6 months

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As You Slept...🌘 (Twilight x Miguel O'Hara)

AU Reader Swan x Miguel O'Hara as Edward Cullen

Synopsis: you're technically Bella Swan, or Y/N Swan (the language I use implies female but could be non-binary). He's the brooding and handsome Miguel Cullen in your Bio class at the community college. Snippets of three nights where he watches you while you sleep.

**gif credits to dinosaurs-tho and gebo4482**

T/W: Voyeurism, stalkerish behavior, sensuality, suggestive content, mention of 🤮 for any emetophobes.

Miguel is so Edward coded. He was literally made for Twilight, idc what anyone says! Probably why I'm so obsessed with him. The moodiness, the protectiveness, actually his whole personality. It's definitely the fangs, too. It's just perfect! Just kind of a drabble with some sensuality and suggestive content. This might be my new brand now. 🧛🏾🖤🍎🍷🐀

----

"In the state of Washington, under a near constant cover of clouds and rain, there is a small town named Forks. Population: 3120 people."-Stephanie Meyer

You planned to confront him. The impossibly beautiful yet mysterious guy in your Bio class, and demand to know what his problem was. A look of utter disgust shot across his face as he clutched a hand to his mouth, as though he was trying to hold back vomit. You stared back at him dumbfounded. You couldn't figure out what you possibly could have done to offend him when you hadn't said one word to him. His fingers clenched in a fist as he stiffly pushed the microbe samples and equipment towards you as if you had the plague. He looked like he wanted to kill you, his eyes obsidian.

This went on for days. After the fourth day you couldn't take it anymore. You just wanted the physical science credit on your transcript and to be done with it. The least he could do was half pretend like you weren't so insufferable. You walked in the classroom, florescent lights clashed against the moody blue-green background of Forks hanging in the windows but the laboratory table you two shared was empty. He never showed.

You glanced at the table in the cafeteria where he and his siblings would sit and it remained empty. The next day, you decided to wait in the parking lot. Miguel's younger, burly brother Emmett was standing nonchalantly in his uncovered Jeep Wrangler as his statuesque, blonde wife Rosalie drove it, with Miguel nowhere to be seen. After a few more days of being a no show, you decided to try and put him out of your mind.

One night, you're sitting on your bed in your bedroom fiddling with a pencil in your mouth, trying to get some homework done while your erratic mother is on speakerphone, pleading with you to come live with her and her new husband in Jacksonville. As soon as you finally get her to let you go, you sigh and feel your eyelids getting heavy. This assignment can wait until tomorrow. You were getting a head start on it anyways.

--that night--

Miguel ran quickly along the forest floor, on his way home from a hunt. His hunger satisfied, temporarily at least. His irises restored to their red color. Suddenly, he remembers you.

Y/N needs me.

He makes a detour and leaps into the trees, using your scent as a compass. Being able to cover a vast area alone on foot was one of the few things that kept him sane. To soar above the evergreens and white fog to perilous heights and be able to access breathtaking views that a normal person could only dream of. It helped him feel alive, as though he was a human again despite his heart that stood still in his chest. This would be the third night he visited you.

---time jump backwards to the first night---

The first night he visited you was the same day that he first saw you in bio class. He decided to visit your house that night anyway despite his better judgement. He couldn't help it. He felt drawn to you, as though something magnetic had a hold on him. He followed your scent. That was the main thing that attracted him so much to you in the first place. A smell so intoxicating and a spell so strong he dug in his heels, and unfortunately it physically manifested itself as an apparent hatred of you. But he didn't hate you.

He arrives at your house and glides open the closed window with a cold, strong hand and enters your room without making a sound. He stands in one spot and looks around. There is no light in your room except for the golden string lights adorning the light mossy green walls. It creates a cozy warm glow around its inhabitant: you.

Your bed is in the middle of the room. You're buried underneath a dark purple comforter, your chest rising and falling as quiet breaths escape you. Miguel just stands there and watches you for a bit. Suddenly, you reposition so you're on your back with your head turned to the side, a vein in your neck exposes itself. Miguel's jaw tenses in an iron grit. It was a lot harder to be near you like this than he originally thought. You stir, and it becomes more apparent that you're having an unpleasant dream. You raise your hand and place it on the pillow next to your head, palm up with your delicate fingers relaxed. You start to squirm as though you're being pushed backwards into the bed. Miguel realizes you're dreaming about him drinking your blood. You're in the exact position he would have you in to do it, too.

Then, in nanoseconds, Miguel senses your awakening and he's already gone by the time your eyelids flutter open in a cold sweat. You could have sworn you saw him standing there in your room. Bold muscles protruding underneath a tight black t-shirt, pitch black eyes on you as you slept. You turn on your lamp only to see nothing there. You scoff and shake your head incredulously as you sit up. That was the first night you dreamt of Miguel Cullen.

----the second night----

The second night Miguel visited you while you slept was the very next night. His hunger still unresolved and eyes obsidian. He couldn't figure out why he tortured himself like this. You were so frustrating. He couldn't read your thoughts. But maybe that's why you were so enticing to him. You made him feel a certain way nobody else did in the now one hundred years he's existed for. You made him feel alive again because he was forced to get to know you, to study you. Just like any other human suitor would've had to do to in order to woo his lady and capture her heart. He loved the thrill of the chase. He felt a pang of guilt at his actions, though. You were unaware that he was doing this. You had no clue the mysterious angsty stranger from Bio class was watching you sleep every night. He didn't even know if you would want him as much as he wanted you.

He justified it irrationally. You needed him. You needed his protection. He heard the thoughts going through the minds of the guys at college. Forks was a small town and guys acted like they had never been around a member of the opposite sex before since Y/N moved in. He promised himself he'd shatter the jaw of that fucking Newton kid if he heard him fantasizing about pulling down the straps of your bra ever again.

As he watches you sleep now, he watches your chest rise and fall. Sometimes he counts the number of seconds in between each one. He does this for hours but it only feels like moments passed to him. He decides to get closer this time. As he leans over you, his eyes scan over you, longingly. The valley of your hips, your soft belly, the way your grey leggings gripped your thighs, your breasts squished together in your purple cami. All he wants to do is touch you now. He so desperately wished he could hear what you were thinking, see what you were dreaming about.

"You have no idea how precious and important you are to me, yet. Even though you don't know we're sharing this moment together, I know you are in your dreams," He thinks.

As if he could project his thoughts onto you, you were in fact dreaming of you and Miguel together again this time. The scene is outdoors, white with snow. Snowflakes are frosting your eyelashes and his dark messy hair. His strong tan arms are wrapped around your chest. You're holding onto his arms with your hands, your head turned to the side, leaning backwards into him. Your eyes are closed and his eyes are open. His gorgeous face looking at you with desire, the amount of devotion can't be contained in red irises that are peering into your soul.

A song gently plays:

"I was damned by the light coming out of her eyes

She spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky

She said "Walk on over yeah to the bit of shade

I will wrap you in my arms and you'll know you've been saved"

Let me sign, let me sign"🎵

---time jump to the present, the third night---

Miguel arrives in your room. He's much more confident in his ability to maintain his composure this time. His hunger absolved, temporarily at least. A random deer can't compare to the liquid gold that ran through your veins. He planned to see you again in class later the next morning since that first day and re- introduce himself properly..make it up to you when he treated you so poorly.

He decides to look around your room. He picks up the novel you're reading and scans through it. He picks up the pictures of you with your parents and wonders where they were taken. He smiles at your childhood photos, at the adorable kid you were and wonders what your personality was like back then. He runs his fingers along the trinkets that lined your shelves. Crafts from summer camps long since passed, souvenirs from family vacations. A snow globe from the Phoenix Zoo. He looks through your jewelry, examining the moonstone ring you liked to wear on your index finger on your right hand. He suddenly thinks of his mother's wedding ring and how it would look on your ring finger. One day, you'd be able to wear the evidence of your belonging to him for the whole world to see. He smells your clothes, basking in their scent, imagining you pressed up against him. He looks defeated at your sleeping figure and realizes that holding your clothes simply isn't enough.

He wants to try something new and he prays it'll work without waking you up. He approaches your bed and gets on it, the bed creaking slightly under his bodyweight. He scoots closer to you, your back still to him. Carefully, he places an arm around you, spooning your body, still using the comforter as a barrier between his arm and yours. He knows his skin is cold enough to wake you. He gently gently lowers his hand towards your cheek, the microscopic hairs on your cheek raising ever so slightly at the cold temperature being emitted off his skin. He lowers it, his knuckles gracing your cheek. You rise for a moment in your sleep and then relax. He smiles with relief. For once, he's not a vampire. Not a killer. He's not just existing passively in a world that changed constantly while he remained chained in place. Now he's finally just a man. A man in bed holding his love. He stays in this position for hours, watching over you.

The sunlight begins to creep into the open window and Miguel's brown skin begins to sparkle. He curses the morning, hating the thought of needing to be ripped away from you for any amount of time. He remembers you like to drink coffee when you wake up. He uses his inhuman speed to run downstairs and prepare a pot for you, placing your mug and favorite spoon on the counter. The smell of brewing coffee begins to flow upstairs, causing you to stir. Miguel comes back in your room. He takes the hydro flask from your nightstand table, smiling at the worn stickers adorning it and fills it up for you. He leans in, nuzzling his nose in your hair.

I love you I love you I love you. I'll see you very soon, my love.

Right on queue, your eyelids flutter open but he's already gone again, a cold chill left behind.

"And so, the lion fell in love with the lamb."

-----

I went through hell to type this all up from scratch a second time after I deleted it on accident 😭😭 it's def not as good at the first version but I hope you enjoy! Miguel Cullen foreva 🧛🏾🖤

#miguel atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #twilight #twilight saga #romance #sensuality #fanfic #miguel o'hara #edward cullen #bella swan #across the spiderverse #Spotify #SoundCloud

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yells-of-the-not-so-danged · 22 days

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Batman: Gotham War was pretty BAD, but at least we got:

A cool scarecrow

a heartbreaking hug

fashion ✨

Scarface robin 💖💖💖

and the worst Jason face I've ever seen!

all for the low low price of the most poorly written batman I've ever encountered (tho granted i am new-ish to modern comics batman)

(spoilers below, also my descent into insanity)

HOW THE HELL DID THE BANK GET A HOLD OF THE MANOR, DID HIS PARENTS NOT PAY THE MORTGAGE??? EVEN THO THEY'RE *RICH*???????? IS THIS SET UP (poorly because it makes zero sense) IN ONE OF THE EARLIER COMICS??

WHY DID BRUCE-MAN BAT-WAYNE, THE AMN WHO IS AS INFINITELY RICH AS THE WRITERS WANT, NOT THINK, "OH! I'll JUST SET UP A FOUNDATION THAT SPECIFICALLY CATERS TO THE PEOPLE WHO FIND THEMSELVES IN HENCHMEN POSITIONS! I CAN, SINCE I'M BRUCE FUCKING WAYNE, SET UP A PROGRAM WHERE IF THEY ATTENDED SOME CLASSES TO TEACH THEM VALUABLE TRADES THEY CAN RECEIVE SPECIAL WELLNESS CHECKS SO THEY CAN SURVIVE UNTIL THEY CAN GET AN HONEST JOB! THE GOVERNMENT MAY EVEN DECIDE TO HELP FUND IT IF I PHRASE IT LIKE THAT!"

... some writers really do just want to write batman punching people, huh...

(edit: I'm adding more now that i've had a few more minuets to just... let it all sink in...)

LOCK BRUCE UP IN ARKHAM FOR BS HE DID TO JASON HOLY SHIT

CALL CPS FOR DAMIEN BECAUSE YOU KNOW FOR A FACT BRUCE HADN'T BEEN TAKING CARE OF HIM IF DAMIEN FALLOWED HIM HOME

DID HE REALLY JUST MAKE DICK THE DAD NOW??? HELLO??? CPS??? ANY MILDLY SANE THERAPIST??? PLEASE HELP???

also, what is Selina gonna do now?? am i really going to keep reading modern batman comics to find out???

OH GOD I HAVE EVEN MORE TO SAY

BRUCE IS UPSET AT SELINA'S PLAN OF STEALING FROM THE RICH BECAUSE STEALING IS A CRIME AND (most importantly!)

HIS PARENTS WERE RICH!!!!!

i am not being hyperbolic when i say i am screeming. I quite literally am, or was, because this. is. insane. and the more i think about all this the more confused and upset i get because WHAT??? WHAAAAT???? HUHH? WHAT????! I AM GOING FERAL

(please tell me the writers will pull bat-mite out their ass to retcon all this shit please [lease plzzzz )

(who the hell green lit this shit??? is it supposed to be absolutely insane??? is that the arc going on right now????)

WHY was the Vandal Savage plot line needed??? The rogues would have teamed up eventually, they did not need Savage to coordinate that and there could have still been a mole in Selina's crew. Then when the rogues finaly strike the Bats and the Cats could have worked together and then finaly talked things out ( if this was writen by a sane person)

also they kill Ra's Al Ghul of screen?? is he dead for good?? explain??

the more and more i think of this the more unwell i get.

YET ANOTHER EDIT:

it's been a month or two and only now has it hit me...

IS THERE JUST A GIANT LAZARUS PIT ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF GOTHAM NOW??????????

THIS BETTER BE PLOT POINT LATER OR I'M GOING TO RIOT

i also want to acknowledge Salina more; even though this was equally her story i barely talked about her and i am sorry. You deserve so much better Salina, both from me and from Bruce. You had an idea that would be considered good in the context of Gotham and what the writers were willing to humor

( even though had the writers been sane she could have offered my earlier proposal to Bruce, but sadly we don't live in that timeline U_U )

...Hey, how did she survive falling in the newly born Lazarus pit?? was she wounded enough that the pit healed instead of killed?? is that what we're going with here??

#also i got to entertain my mom by explaining the plot #she was baffeled by wayne manor being bought because the bank owned the property #also where the fuck is alfred?? is he dead?? vacationing???#gotham war #batman comics #dc batman #scarecrow #jason todd #tim drake #damien wayne #selina kyle #scarface dc #the ventriloquist

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sleepingcup · 5 months

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Secret Trade for a Novel

Game: Reverse 1999 Character: Horropedia x Reader Genre: Fluff Requested by/Gifted to: @one0p1nk

Artwork by me @sleepy-meep

Summary: You have been looking for your books for quite a while, I wonder if someone got it for confiscation or...

"This novel is amazing! The horror aesthetics and the description of pure horror was so real, no one can tell which one is real or not!"

"After reading it...imagining it.... The more I think about the details feel so real..."

"I do find the books pleasingly interesting, and all... Tho... why the author or these novels remain...anonymous?"

"I would say the author did that to make things more interesting!"

"Tho...aren't those types novels prohibited in the foundation?"

"No, not necessarily. It is only prohibited during work hours but they did not say you can read them after work. Hey, have you find any ideas who that author could be?"

"...Hmm I do have a tiny guess...but...”

Words cannot describe how panicking you feel mentally.

People does see you as a hard working unit in the St. Pavlov Foundation, but almost no one knows that you are secretly a horror novelist in secret every time a mission gets you bored. Sure you don't write constantly but you do think of ideas for you upcoming novel drafts.

But recently when you tried to arrive back to your office, you swore that you kept your novels safe.

"?!"

You looked around and still no sign of your drafts, which worries you even further and yet…

“Did someone… break into my office?”

"Eh not really. Tho I do have to admit that your horror novel collections are VERY rare to find! This is a rare sight to see! Hey! Hey! Do you happen to know the author of this book?"

Tho I think you should feel relieved when your crush Horropedia happens to appear on your office room, it is about time you might want to get used to him doing that as a habit of his. But the book he was holding is one thing that made you panic a bit.

"W-well not really."

"Oh? But this book was so good! This horror themed novel was a masterpiece! Oh! Let us not forget the perfect details of this insane word building! I do love the details of this book! It would have been better if it's movie scripted in better quality-Oh! I forgo I was asking you about the author of this book!"

Horropedia then looks at you, "So I had one theory, since you know what we are both best friends and all~ I need to know something."

All of a sudden Horropedia leans closer to you, his face was near you.

"Are you the author of this book I had a good time reading?"

"!!!"

You were surprised when he ask you this question, you know that he is smart but he does have his dumb moments. And yet you are a bit shy that you HID this talent of your away from him.

"U-um..."

"Am I right? Am I right?"

"..."

Your eyes feel like spiraling out of control, he was close to you and yet you feel like sweating bullets.

Feeling defeated.... "Yes...I wrote that book."

"YES! So I was ri-wait...."

Then all of a sudden Horropedia goes closer to you suddenly feeling the rush of excitement.

"Does that mean...The other books that I read that has that unknown author...was you right?"

"Y-yeah...?"

"And your word building was yours right?"

"..."

"And your signature is..."

"Yeap... I wrote it."

Then you show Horropedia the real proof that you are typing horror novels, the word building you poured in on typing, and and quickly reads the computer file you have been typing. He soon stares at you in silence before you know it.

And for a quick second he lifts you in his arms and spin around with you, he was holding you closer to him and he was extremely excited, you can feel his head nuzzling to yours.

"MY BEST FRIEND IS THE BEST! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT I HAD MEET A BEAUTIFUL CRUSH AS YOU! Please... let me kiss you!"

"?!"

"!!!"

All of a sudden Horropedia gently place you down and looked away, stunned at his sudden actions. When you got a bit closer to him, he was a blushing mess. His eyes gaze at the floor embarrassed, "Did I... I did just say that.... I-I mean..."

"Joshua..."

"!!!"

He turns to look at you , a blushing mess before you paused for a second before you walk closer to him. He was a stammering mess and soon averts his eyes away.

"I..I..."

"...Please... look at me."

He looks at you and soon, stares at you with pleading eyes.

"You did saw and entered my office without me knowing."

"Y-Yeah I did... sorry..."

"But..."

"?"

"Since you read my novels, what will you give me?"

Horropedia felt a bit guilty when you ask him that question, "You said "Let me kiss you..."... right?" You said as he froze knowing that he is ready for the worse... and yet...

"Please.... kiss me?"

Horropedia looked in shocked before, gently holding your hand before leaning closer to your face. "Are you sure... I can kiss you?" He said as you nodded at his question, pulling him closer to you.

Feeling his lips feels like heaven.

It felt like time has stopped, and when you pull away to look at his reaction...

Horropedia was a blushing mess.

"(y-y/n)..."

"A fair trade I say huh Horropedia~?"

"..."

He was speechless before he gives you another kiss, "I....love you so much..." That is all the words he says.

The rest felt so romantic.

#reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #horropedia #horropedia x reader

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soldier-poet-king · 2 months

Text

Someome tell me I'm being ridiculous worrying abt this POTENTIAL event which is more than a full calendar year away

Stressed myself out abt all the work stuff I was blogging abt earlier today

None of it is insurmountable but I DO worry about it because it's very much freedom of information core of the profession vs optics and playing nice with where we get money

I knew this was part of the job I think I'm more nervous actually faced with it, having not met with my boss yet to discuss it (and I KNOW he'll support me and will be willing to offer advice)

Partially just adjusting ig to the higher expectations and responsibility of this position. I asked for it. I'm not complaining. It's just new and I have 0 self confidence and am afraid of bothering my colleagues, even tho I know I have the foundational skills and adaptability to thrive here

Long term this is worrying beyond just this one project, because I /need/ everything about this position to work out well

I'm technically on a long term contract rn til fall 2025. Full time salaried with benefits, but technically a contract. That's how most ppl start off at my workplace.

There's no guarantee that it'll turn into another contract or smthn permanent. But it's not unheard of, even if it's via a transfer to another sub-department in the institution.

So I want everything to go well and all the fancy higher ups to like me so if a position DOES open up I can be the top contender for it

I want that not just for career wise. But also being paid and having money for rent reasons. My current place has a great union and decent contracts. I'm not loaded but I have enough to live decently and save long-term. I'd like to stay here if possible.

If a new position doesn't materialize at the end of this. I'm worried about housing? Given the lease cycles of 12 months, it'll be right in the middle of my next lease (assuming I rented the place I'm at now).

I'm petrified of having to move back in with my family. AGAIN.

It almost killed me once after grad school. I can't do it again. I'll be nearly 30 at that point. I can't do it.

Ive only been moved out for 5 days and I'm already just breathing easier, shoulders relaxing, I feel so much lighter.

But. All of this is like. A potential dependent on another potential dependent on another potential that is all more than a year away

And YET I can't calm down my brain is like you must sit here in AGONY and rethink these thoughts in circles until you solve it and come to a different conclusion than the only one available (I have to try my best and wait to see how things go. I can't do anything about it ATM)

But my brain refuses I am forced to sit here and rethink and rethink and rethink until I discover some secret solution that will magically ease my anxiety, if only I think it over just one more time..just one more time. Just one more time

Damn John green was right ocd thought patterns really are turtles all the way down

#the duality of fran #dont even get me started on my more regular ocd compilations #compulsions #this is like #.vacation. comparatively #wahhhhh

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jellazticious · 9 months

Note

not a lot of sheriff love in the world (for various reasons to be fair); i would love to hear more thoughts on stefanos family if you have them 👀 ?

I don't know how to tell you this...

As sweet as Sugary Spire is, the dynamic with Stefano and his dads are the polar opposite with Pascal and his dads

Also under the cut, it's me throwing shade at Sugary Spire

For one, 90% of the SS characters are so dry in canon that it's hard to tell what their characteristics would be. It's so ironic that Rosette has five times the appearances compared to Noisette and yet I do NOT know her fucking personality. Most the Sugary Spire stuff posted are generic TROPES cuz no one knows how to write them, the only person who makes SS art and make it interesting is Heinzlike

Pizzano is kinda the only character who has a decent foundation with his traits. But the rest?? You're on your own LMAO

Like I don't even know what Sheriff does of imma be honest and my bucko Beefy has trouble writing Joan (Jude) also because of that. Me and him are doing EXTENSIVE RESEARCH about what the devs themselves provided of Sheriff and Gumbob and like???? THERE IS NOTHING

And so far all we got was having Sheriff be a shitty parent cuz of how cold and distant he is. It's so ironic that he's supposed to be Pepperman in Vigi's role but has none of Pepperman's charm nor that hospitality Vigi has. Like Vigi may have a resting bitch face but we are still shown that he's got a kinder side. Sheriff however? He's just perpetually pissed on every sprite he has.

Candied apples will give birth and straight up walk away just like Doof's parents jsksndkdkd

Secondly, with that being said, yeah Stefano has a shitty kinda divorced family. His ass is a one night stand love child cuz Pizzano rizzed the fuck out of the Sheriff cuz he did not want a speeding ticket. (also btw, regular Pascal is also an accident, the more you know sksksksksk)

Pizzano pays for the child support 😭

I'm so sorry I can't take this seriously jsnsndnd Sugary Spire has zero writing despite the visuals being so fucking developed it's hilarious. Like I'm so sorry, I never got into SS because I thought it was so boring and I was right now that I've looked into it. How did they make Pizzelle so stale??? How do you manage that???

But yeah ultimately, Sheriff is hella cold at Stefano, maybe even disappointed when he reminds him of Pizzano but like, he still kinda cares? It's just so hard to deal with a kid who's just so impulsive and stupid but like, he'd still show up when Stefano is deep shit. The feeling is mutual on Stefano's side. He plays hero in a musketeer outfit because it's a reminder that he still looks up to Sheriff

Pizzano on the other hand, he acts Stefano more like a super fan than a son. Like yes he cares but not in the way you'd think. They're the same level dense and stupid but not that Stef minds it, he does enjoy spending time with his fun dad more. But again, not to discredit Pizzano's genuine love tho, he is just so shit at showing it and hella busy with uhhh whatever he's doing. Is he a showman like Noise??? I don't knowwwwwwww

But yeah in Stefano's adulthood, Sheriff kicked him out his house, Pizzano let's him bunk in his place and maybe hired him as a stage hand/prop maker so he can have a reason to have Stef stay.

He made his costume and his weapons but he's still a little shit that he just does not want to share his props. Most of them are fake but that sword is jery much real and metal

Lmao the only reason why I was able to write Stefano was because he's a lone wolf who does not need the influence of the other characters

Oh one last thing, Stefano's full name is not as long as Pascal's. The sole reason why it was that long to begin with was because of Pepperman. But since Sheriff did not have that same pop nor wanna deal with Stef, it was Pizzano who did the naming. He is also called Stefano because there is no "Pascallis" in the full name.

Paciano Stefano Royales Creampuff

#Jella answers #Pascal Jaleppino

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miniscrew-anon · 4 months

Note

Psst hey hi, how about a perspective flip for your beloved miniscrew fic?

Mwah mwah (rodent anon on computer so no rodent emoji)

WOW I haven't touched this thing since May of 2022. But of course, my dear Rodent - anything for you (i do miss your little rat face tho)

-----

Shadow lets himself into the basement as he always does; loudly and without hesitation. Honestly, it's a small miracle he hasn’t been caught by anyone yet.

"So," He starts, "I have this fantasy."

Shadow has always enjoyed pushing his luck. There’s nothing quite like getting a good reaction out of his unsuspecting (or very suspecting, in this case) victim. It gives him a little thrill, knowing that he’s gotten under someone’s skin. He’s well practiced at keeping people off balance with a healthy dose of sharp wit and snark. He knows how to subvert the normal ebb and flow of conversation, how to slip into what people think are well-defended angles.

Sometimes it’s easy - the stuck-up or straight-laced are always easy targets. But the best are the ones he has to work at.

Rain is one of those. He’s nearly perfected that poker face of his; that deadpan, unassuming look of perpetual neutrality. So good that to the naked eye, he seems contradictory. Withdrawn, but involved. Uncaring, but opinionated. Mild, but sharp-tongued.

Maybe that’s why they meshed so well - Four was water, and Shadow the ever-shifting container.

To prove it, Shadow invites himself into Four’s personal space. Only for Four to flow around him, like a river altering its course to make space for a boulder. He doesn't clash or grate, he gives.

It’s nice.

Most people don’t give in, don’t make space for all of Shadow's eccentricities. Or if they do they gripe and bellyache over what a sacrifice it is to deal with him. What a pain he is. They prefer to pick and choose what parts of him they allow, and which parts to ignore or even cut away. Plenty of people have tried to change Shadow. Plenty more have just given up on him.

Four just meets him in the middle, for better or for worse. Like now, for instance. When he turns around and surprises Shadow, taking him to his knees with words alone.

Four takes all of Shadow’s nonsense (all of himself) in stride. Gauges him in a second, reads everything under the surface. Sees the joke, the punchline, the underling want and all the things Shadow himself doesn’t recognize and gives back exactly what's needed and not what’s asked. He doesn't push nor pull, just exists and settles around Shadows cracks and crevasses. A tease, some attention, and a quiet moment. Some silence and a small break from Shadow's own mind, from a stressful, loud day.

Four doesn't know what happened today. Shadow didn't tell him and Four won't ask. He doesn't need to.

Shadow moans and groans when Four backs out of his space, a hair's breadth from his lips, but he’s satisfied. Sex between them is unnecessary. Four occasionally offers, and Shadow will always accept, but it’s not a foundation of their relationship. Hell, it’s not even a pillar. They could never take off their clothes, never kiss or touch each other's skin again, and Shadow would be just as happy.

(Although he won’t say no the sex swing idea - that shit sounds fun!)

-----

Brain tired and so this came out a lot more introspective than I thought it would. Somehow I think I have the opposite problem that Stormy does - I have a hard time writing from Shadow's POV but an easy time with Four.

Four & Shadow relationship ramble time:

Those two are so complicated to put to words sometimes. Not knowing the backstory or what drove them together makes for a very unique challenge sometimes. I have to make a lot of assumptions and keep things vague but I feel like at their core their relationship is built around mutual understanding but also mutual acceptance.

Shadow, I think, isn't a super good person at his core. And not like Dark where he was forced to do evil shit. I think a part of Shadow chooses to be that way. That he lacks the empathy that most of the cast has. He's selfish and enjoys pissing people off in a very unkind way. He might even go out of his way to do something cruel just to get a rise out of someone if he's in a mood. He's chaotic neutral - he does what he does in the moment that'll give him the most gratification.

In my mind he's never had unconditional love and I think that's something he struggles with in his relationship with Four. It doesn't come easily to him to he has to actually try. And he does because he wants to for Four. Because Four is the only one in the world who Shadow really cares for with his whole heart.

Four, at his core, is a good person. He'll make a sacrifice to help someone out. He'll go out of his way. But Shadow doesn't have that instinct. He'll always choose himself over anyone else when in the heat of the moment. And that causes quite a bit of tension when they get put into Situations.

Shadow has to fight his base instincts for Four. He wouldn't do it for anyone else in the world (maybe Dark - WIP in progress a lil about that) but for Four he'd do anything. Including maybe working behind Four's back to do shady shit for what he thinks is to Fours benefit.

Four, on his part, knows that Shadow is kinda shady and a real asshole. Kind of even a bad person. But he's okay with it despite everything. Which is one of the major reasons they work.

(for now, anyway. Maybe its something that's going to have to be resolved one day.)

#townhouse au #hsh au #st0rmyverse #ask game #hsh four #hsh shadow #rodent you sly dog you got me monologuing

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justanotherfanwriter · 1 year

Text

And they were ROOMmates

Cht list: (1) (2) (3) (4)

a/n: here’s what Black*Star’s going to be doing in this story lol. Every soul eater arc had something just plain nonsensical in it, and I wanted to emulate that <3 because the dumb stuff was the best stuff.

As always, thank you for your kind words and support. I’ve had this chapter written for a while, but I was too nervous to post it. Can’t move on until I post it tho so here it is! Please forgive me for any occ-ness. Trying to write all seven of them and having them talk over each other like they do in the canon is easier said than done for me, but I think I have my basic plot foundation laid out for the rest of the story 😊

fyi I put this story on ao3 (as requested), so don’t forget to leave a comment or kudos (if you want lol). I’ll continue to update on tumblr as well!

------------------------------------------------

The DWMA clinic they were currently in was not on school property but nearer to Star and Tsu's apartment. Thanks to Medusa, the clinic on the school's main campus was now solely used for school emergencies that occurred on campus for accountability purposes. It was an effort to counter-act any other "black blood" level stunt. The rule had been met with only minor opposition, mainly from Professor Stein, but his complaints were largely ignored.

The building was a remodeled urgent care that took patients from Death City and some of the surrounding counties, and then, of course, the DWMA students or agents injured during missions. It was a nice little set-up, and "special" agents, like Maka, occupied the top floor, which required a key pass to access. Soul pressed the key pass the nurses had provided him to the pad before hitting the button to level five.

"Can we not mention this to Maka? I don't want her to worry," He requested as the elevator doors shut, blocking their view of the Program Agents that had swarmed the cafeteria, trying desperately to rub elbows with Kid. Marc, everyone's favorite cafeteria attendant, had caused quite the stir, but nothing big enough, in Soul's opinion, that required a team of thirty brown nosers and suck-ups.

He didn't look away from the panel of buttons to know his request had the rest of the group shifting their collective gaze toward Black*Star, who paused scraping around the inside of his ear to glare back at them.

"Oye!" He scowled like they had insulted his very being, "Why are you all looking at me? What! Do you really think I'm just gonna walk in there, blurt out Soul got his ass kicked, and that Kid—"

"—stole my fucking shot!" Black*Star yelled, bouncing up and down on Maka's bed, "Just stole it! I mean, what the hell kinda bullshit is that, huh!?"

"Stop jumping!" Soul growled, reaching to steady Maka as Tsubaki latched onto Black*Star's legs, echoing his sentiments, "Black*Star, be gentle!"

His legs being rendered immobile didn't stop Black*Star from monologuing. He waved his arms dramatically in the air, "It was going to be perfect! I shimmed up onto the ceiling and was strategically swinging my way across the room using the light fixtures when—"

"Wait, are you okay?" Maka asked him, furrowing her brows as she spoke over Black*Star. Her arms wrapped around his as she searched his face for clues.

Soul scowled, stepping out of her grasp. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. "Don't be dumb." He tsked, "Do I look hurt?"

His answer didn't alleviate the worry on her face as she turned to examine the others, "Is this person still here?"

"Of course not!" Kid sputtered, taking a step toward them, "I've had them—"

"Ah! Ah! No! You're not allowed out of your corner yet!" Maka ripped around, jabbing a finger in their Death Lord's direction, "I'm still mad at you."

Kid shrank in on himself, turning to face the wall again.

With a satisfied nod, Maka relaxed against her pillows, no longer glaring but obviously, to him, still worried about the predicament. It wasn't like Liz had been wrong. No good had ever come out of a trip to the hospital, and he and Maka knew that better than anyone.

"Well, I guess that's why you took so long then, huh? Here, I thought you had ended up ditching me," She sighed, her gaze falling back to him. Her smile was small but genuine. She had never had a big smile, like Black*Star or Patty, but she had a way of making someone feel like they were the only person in a crowded room when she smiled like that.

"Wow, ye of little faith," He shook his head, unable to stop himself from smiling back, "Sorry about the food."

"It's fine, it's fine," She waved him off, "what's one more night of applesauce and watery chicken broth?"

"If I had known you were hungry, I would have brought something. I've been stress-baking," Tsubaki confessed with a sheepish look as she sat down in the chair by Maka's bedside, the one that had formally been his, but if anyone was going to steal his spot, he was perfectly fine with it being her. Tsubaki gingerly held one of Maka's hands in her own, "We were only just now allowed to come visit. They said family-only for the first 24 hours."

Maka shot him a look, and he shrugged, "If anyone asks, you're my half-sister."

"Wouldn't everyone here know better?"

He stuck his hands in his hoodie pocket, "I made a compelling argument, I guess."

He had threatened the nurses and doctors, of course, with his blade, but same difference. It wasn't like Maka needed all the tiny details anyway, she was healing.

Liz wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned toward Maka with a conniving little smirk Soul didn't like, "I told him he should have said you two had gotten hitched. Way more believable, and they can't refuse a spouse."

"No," He sniffed, refusing to meet Maka's eyes, "Half-sister."

"Speaking of visitors, has anyone else been by to see you, Maka?" Kid asked the wall.

Soul stiffened on his own accord, slipping out of Liz's hold as he answered quickly for her, "No."

He watched Kid from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction, who stood up straighter with surprise. "Really?"

"Why?" Soul asked, really watching him now, wondering who the hell they should have been expecting. Other agents, maybe, with a slip changing Soul’s assignment to Antarctica? Had Harvar followed through on his threat?

The tone of his voice must have caught Kid off guard because he pushed away from the wall with large eyes and exclaimed, "But Spirit's been going crazy! He's left early every single day!"

Soul blinked and then forced himself to unclench his jaw and relax his shoulders.

"Oh, uh, yeah, Spirit's been by, obviously, but no one else. At least, not while I've been here." He shrugged, banishing Harvar from his thoughts. Kid was here, for Maka's sake, not to hit him with a pink slip. Why he had ever thought differently was insulting to his friend, but he kept his apologies to himself.

"Actually, I would like to see him here less," Maka rolled her eyes, "please."

Kid smiled smugly at Liz, "So he isn't cutting work."

"No," He and Maka said flatly, "he's cutting work."

Liz rolled her eyes, plopping down on the bed, "I'd rather him here than at work. Kid's right. He's been an absolute mess."

Maka opened her mouth to retort when Patty jumped up from the ground, holding up a piece of paper she had been scribbling on since they had all seemingly collapsed into the room, trying their hardest to stop Black*Star from being, well, Black*Star about things, an impossible task in retrospect.

"I made you a card, Maka!" Patty giggled, thrusting it into Maka's face and making her go cross-eyed.

"Oh!" Maka blinked, prying the card from the other girl's grip, "Thank you, Patty, this is, uh, just…yellow on paper. Uh, crayon, maybe?"

"And color pencil, and—" Patty dug into her pocket before holding out a squished and dribbling mustard packet, "—I found this in the cafeteria!"

"Patty's really been into abstract expressionism lately," Liz explained as he and Maka sniffed the paper, sharing a look of unease.

"It's very creative, Patty!" Tsu smiled, ever positive, as she leaned over to examine the sticky piece of paper herself.

"Yellow tastes good and happy," Patty nodded, licking the open end of the mustard packet, "but it makes Kid so mad!"

Kid stepped closer, eyebrow twitching, "That's only because there's no sense to it. If you would like an actual art lesson—"

"—corner—" Maka snapped at him, pointing him back to his designated spot.

"—I'm sorry!" Black*star crossed his arms over his chest with a sneer, commanding their attention, "Can we please get back to what matters here?"

"Maka's health?" He asked with a sigh, plucking the condiment-covered piece of paper away from Tsu between two pinched fingers and gingerly propping it up on Maka's bedside table.

"No!" Black*Star jabbed a finger at his chest, "Me! I've got business to discuss with you, Maka."

There was general grumbling among the group as a response. "Ah, sit down," Liz barely looked up from her nails as she waved Black*Star off while Soul grumbled, "Save it," wiping mustard from his fingers onto his pants.

"Black*Star," Tsubaki spoke up, pulling on his pant leg as she awkwardly tried to save the situation, "maybe later?"

"M-maybe later!" He stuttered, "No way! What's the big deal?"

"Maka's healing," Tsubaki explained, "we'll ask in a little bit. It can wait."

"Ah, whatever," It was Black*Star's turn to wave them off, "Maka's fine! I mean, what's a couple of bones, right, Maka?"

“I really am okay,” Maka agreed.

"No," Soul disagreed.

"I mean, Maka, have you ever just tried making your bones unbreakable?" Black*Star tilted his head in thought. His expression was open and earnest, practically downright innocent, as he proclaimed, "Just don't have them be broken anymore! That's what I do!"

Soul pointedly stared at the cam boot adorning Black*Star's left leg, "Didn't you get stuck in that from falling down some stairs?"

Again, Black*Star waved them off, tilting his head back to let out a loud cackle, "Ah, that's different!"

"How?"

"Sneak attack, duh." Black*Star sniffed, rubbing his nose, "And now I'm immune!"

"That's not how it works," He shook his head.

"It is!"

"It isn't."

"And this isn't just a social visit!"

"It is." Soul amended.

"It isn't!" Black*Star stomped forward on the bed until he was hovering over Maka, "I gotta know, do you still have all your nerdy Coffin Scout shit?"

"Coffin Scout?" Soul echoed, and another smile spread across his face, "You never told me you were a Coffin Scout."

Maka's forehead twitched as she glared at Black*Star, pushing his head away from hers, "First of all, it wasn't nerdy. Second of all, yes, I was a Coffin Scout," She sat a little straighter, "I was an excellent Coffin Scout, thank you. Third of all," Her expression faltered, "why do you want to know?"

Black*Star stood proudly, once more jabbing his thumb into his chest, "You're looking at Troup 564s next Undertaker!"

All of them, minus Tsubaki, stared at him until Maka finally blinked back to life, "I'm sorry. You?"

"Well, Angela, you see," Tsubaki started to interject, "she's—"

"Don't you have to be, like, a mom to be a den mother?" Liz asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Undertaker." Black*Star instantly corrected, "And, eh," he shrugged, "who cares? Maka's dad did it."

"Let's not go that far," Maka looked off as a twitch again pulsed through her forehead.

"It's a unisex position." Kid huffed and stood slightly straighter, "I was also a proud Coffin Scout in my youth. Maybe I can assist you in your endeavor, Black*Star? I know all the—"

"—pass." Black*Star scowled, crossing his arms over his chest with a 'hmph' and ignoring the daggers Kid shot his way.

"You were a Coffin Scout?" Maka smiled, apparently forgetting her Corner Rule, "I had no idea, Kid. Shouldn't we have been in the same Troup?"

His glower fell, and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "Ah, well, I never actually…made it to a Coffin Scout meeting."

"Because it was for little girls?" Soul deadpanned.

"They ended up changing that rule! But yes." Kid flushed, then brightened, "Still, I read the whole handbook over a dozen times. The Coffin Scout's dedication to tradition and policy never ceased to impress me. I knew the chants; I even tried my hand at getting a few badges, my first being the pattern badge, which, of course, obviously has to do—"

"—Patty was a coven scout too," Liz cooed, speaking over Kid as she reached for Patty to pinch and squish her cheeks, "you should have seen her in the little uniform. It was so cute!" Liz continued to beam like the proud older sister she was, "She was kicked out after her first meeting because—" Quickly, Liz snatched her hands away from Patty as she tried to chomp down on the fingers closest to her mouth, "—she had a biting problem. Patty. No."

"We had our own version of Coffin Scouts in Japan, but uh," Tsubaki quietly explained, "I did martial arts instead with my brother."

Again, the room began to fill with a symphony of voices as one story bled into another that drowned out another, and the cycle continued ad nauseam. The endless conversation used to be something that made Soul dizzy. In the beginning, he wondered if this was what all friendships were like, constantly trying to demand the stage and outshine each other, until he finally realized there was a rhythm to their chatter, a call and response as stories layered atop each other until they reached the crescendo, screaming "my stories are yours."

Of course, he still immensely preferred the peace of silence, but the noise his friends created was as much a part of "coming home" as anything else after a long mission. If they were silent, then he'd know something was truly wrong.

Black*Star, who always demanded the stage, didn't share Soul's cheesy, sentimental, and secret approach to their friend group's hive-mind-like conversations. He began to pout, then glower as the spotlight was again taken off of him. Soul watched as his eyes darted between faces and counted down the seconds they had left until he reached another tantrum.

Slipping one of Maka's ponytails off his wrist, Soul aimed it at Black*Star striking him square in that large forehead of his, stopping the tantrum before it even had a chance to begin, "Ah, stop pouting, and tell us how you'll be inconveniencing us this time."

Maka quirked an eyebrow at Black*Star, joining Soul, "Yeah, why are you suddenly an Undertaker? I thought Coffin Scout's was the—” she poorly mocked Black*Star’s voice, crossing her eyes, “lamest thing in the world?"

Now that Black*Star finally held the room's attention, he seemed to falter under it, which Soul found odd. That wasn't like him, not at all. His confidence wavered for a moment before he shot a look at Tsubaki and nodded, squaring his shoulders, "Gotta set a few racist assholes straight, ya know, for Angie."

That was enough to cause to a general uproar.

"Angela? Is she okay?" Liz asked as Patty sat up, for once without a smile on her face.

"Did something happen?" Maka asked with wide eyes, looking for answers from Tsubaki.

"Who did it?" Kid glowered.

"Hey!" Black*Star crossed his arms, "I'm handling it, alright? I just need your nerd shit, okay? The troop she was in doesn't want her because she's a witch, so—" Again, Black*Star tripped over himself, seemingly stumbling over the right words to say, "—so, you know, we're making our own." He glared at them each in turn like he was challenging them to say something, "Any problems with that?"

"Star!" Maka snapped, rising to the challenge, "Dammit! Why didn't you start with that?"

"Yeah—" Liz scowled, and Patty finished, "—what gives, man!"

“None of you were listening!”

"Again, because you were taking too long," Kid muttered, rolling his eyes.

Black*Star tried leveling him with an icy stare, "I will kick your ass."

"I'd like to see you try." Kid spat back without flinching.

"Holy sh—it. You two and the arguing today," Liz huffed, "knock it off."

"Are you in on this too, Tsubaki?" Maka asked, ignoring the other boys. After so many years, it was easy to tune out their constant bickering.

"Mhm," Tsubaki nodded, "I'll be the assistant troop leader! It's, uh, well, I just hope I do well. I don't know much about the Coffin Scouts."

The tension between Kid and Black*Star dissipated instantly as Kid turned eagerly to Tsubaki.

"We could review some of the handbook!" Kid suggested, eye glittering with excitement "I still remember—"

"—no thanks." Black*Star waved him away again, ignoring the daggers Kid shot him.

"I'd actually very much appreciate that," Tsu smiled.

"And, of course, you two can have all my old stuff. Lucky for you, I think, uh—" Maka stopped and tapped her chin, "—I think I still have a few of my old binders stored at my dad's place. He never let me throw any of it away." She grimaced through a smile, "He's coming by later today. I'll text him to bring it over if you want to stick around for that long, that is?"

Black*Star finally plopped down onto the foot of her bed, sitting with his legs crisscrossed, "What else do I gotta do today, huh?"

"Looks like you're stuck with us until your old man shows up," Soul smirked, leaning against Maka's bedside table.

"Stuck with them," Maka corrected, "not you—" His heart fluttered for a moment, half-hoping-half-dreading she was about to fix his wordage. "—you're going home."

With his lame hopes effectively trampled and his ego put back in its proper place, he furrowed his brows together and quite eloquently stuttered, "W-wait, what? Why?"

"You need to go home and sleep, Soul," She sighed, "I haven't seen you sleep for more than five hours this whole weekend."

"I'm fine," He shook his head.

"Don't make it an argument. Just go home and get some sleep. I'll be okay!"

"Uh," He pushed off the bedside table, uncrossing his arms to argue with her, "I beg to differ. There was a lunatic downstairs looking for you. Did we forget that?"

"No," She glared back at him, mocking his tone, "we did not. But I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. I'm not useless."

"No one said you were."

"It's not like I'm alone right now," She countered.

"And," Kid interrupted, "I'll have two people at her door every night as long as she's here."

Maka groaned, "That isn't necessary either."

"Protocol," Kid shot back.

"If anyone needs a babysitter, it's you, pigtails," Black*Star snorted in a rare act of agreement with Kid.

"Fuck off," She glared at Black*Star, kicking at him.

"I'm staying." Soul announced over their bickering, "Not risking it."

Maka stopped shoving Black*Star to scowl at him, "You need to sleep."

"You do look tired, Soul," Tsu spoke up, trying to placate the situation, which would have been annoying if she weren't so good at it, "and we'll be right here with her until Spirit arrives. She'll hardly be alone."

"And I need my mask, remember. These lights—" Maka pointed to the overhead lights, where one was still flickering at odd intervals, "—they're still killing my head."

"Fine," He conceded, "I'll run home, nap, get your stuff, come back."

"No, you'll go home, get my stuff ready for my papa to pick up, and then go to bed," She looked off for a second before tacking on, "and make sure Blair's okay, and check the mail, and then maybe clean out the fridge, and make sure the cat didn't drag anything in while we were gone, and shoot—” She snapped her fingers, “—I think I have a package at the post office, and—"

"—jeez, Mak, just write your errand boy a list," Liz snorted as Patty did her best impression of a whip. He made sure to flick her off when Maka wasn’t looking.

"Yeah, good idea," Maka said, taking Liz literally, "I'll just text you a list."

"But—" He started, but she stopped him, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

She squeezed it lightly, "Soul, go home. Your dark circles have dark circles."

He stared at her, neck warming as he felt everyone else watching them—Kid watching them—but couldn't find it in himself to do the safe thing and pull away. Instead, he studied her face for longer than necessary, his heart hammering against his rib cage as he thought of every single reason why leaving would end up being the worst mistake he had ever made.

Pretty green doe eyes batted up at him, "Please."

Against his better judgment, he squeezed her hand back, muttering a simple "fine" before turning away. He didn't let go of her hand until he was forced to, her fingertips slowly slipping from his.

"Text me when you get home!" Maka's voice echoed down the hallway as he slowly made his way toward the elevators.

As the elevator doors shut, he could hear Maka’s room again explode with the sounds of his best friends, all competing for each other’s attention until finally he was enveloped in silence, a stark difference than from before. A panic flared within him, and it was then that he decided he had been mistaken. He didn’t prefer silence. He needed their sounds. Without them, everything felt wrong.

Bad wrong. Unsafe wrong. Like something had gone wrong, wrong.

He gnawed on one of his hang nails, trying hard to push his ill ease away. He hated being alone with his thoughts, and it was made worse with that shitty little red horned demon always knocking on the door of his subconscious, acting like an internal metronome with no end in sight.

He dropped his hand from his mouth, staring miserably at the elevator doors. Maka was right. He needed some sleep.

#soul eater #soul x maka #long fic #my writing #im also a little nervous about this chapter #because it’s all dialogue #and idk how to write some of their voices yet #but we go back to just soul’s lil world next chapter #and he’s big time Sad Boy™ in it

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yostresswritinggirl · 1 year

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Only thought right now is that Niwa saw reader smiling for the first time and he fell in love. Figuratively and literally. Landed on his face. Made friends with the floor.

Oh, but I think reader made the first move. Niwa was taking a little too long and they wanted to make their claim known.

Bloom anon

Niwa Hisahide is a simple man despite his high status in Tatarasuna.

And his happiness are just as straightforward, reminded by the heat of the forge in front of him, he smiles.

Bladesmithing brings him unfathomable joy even before he rose up the ranks. From the act of forging down to displaying the final product, his love for his craft is a well-known fact among the people of the Isshin Art.

Hisahide still remembered his first successful blade in his youth, displayed on a wall together with the other clans for inspection of the Shogunate from Narukami Island to inspect the quality and progress of the Raiden Gokaden. While he was not yet the representative of his clan that time, his work had already shown great hopes of taking up the mantle of the clan.

Enamored, elated, he simply stared at the display with a grin.

Next to a stranger that came from the mainland who's also staring at the displayed swords. Specifically his blade. "This one seems to have a unique design than the others."

"Oh, that's mostly due to my lack of knowledge in aesthetics." The moment those eyes landed on him, he couldn't help but scratch the back of his neck demurely. "That's mine - I mean, I made that sword. My first sword."

Your eyes flickered back to the display, where a wood block next to it has the name Niwa Hisahide engraved on it. And Niwa couldn't help but watch with bated breath as he eagerly stared at the way your eyes traced the blade of his proud work.

"It looks really nice for a first sword."

"Thank you very much! You see, the Niwa Clan follows the Isshin Art, focused on forging blades efficient for their sharpness and strike -" And inspectors and fellow bladesmiths would recount the sight of the enthusiastic young Niwa chatting up a storm about the intricacies of forging to a poor tourist who only wanted to admire the blades.

"Soon, I'll forge the best sword of my clan, maybe even the best of the Isshin Art."

"Niwa-san, you really love forging blades."

Of course, it was so obvious that it was almost ridiculous to sound out, that was what he thought when Niwa Hisahide turned to them with a silly grin. Nothing brought him this much joy than forging, a clan tradition that will live with him and thru him.

Niwa Hisahide truly loved forging blades.

Yet at the sight of the Narukami tourist's minimal but undeniably divine smile, the shining blades reflecting on their eyes full of mirth, the bladesmith felt incredible guilt at being the cause of its end. After all, who would smile when someone just suddenly tripped like he did?

"Huh?! Are you okay? Did you just - how did you even fall?!"

But who was he to say when even with his face squished against the dirt floor, hidden by the earth beneath is a goofy smile that he can't seem to stop.

Niwa Hisahide's a simple man with only two things that bring him absolute joy.

Forging blades and the sight of your smile.

And as he inspects the quality of his best blade yet, he hopes that his present can coax out the best smile out of you, his beloved. And hopefully, his beloved forever.

---

This is my poor attempt on it, silly lil drabble haha

After that first encounter it was up to sigma reader to lay out the foundation and make all the moves to open a relationship between them because Niwa was indeed taking long and is probably so slow on picking up their hints haha

Like I imagine him asking when they'll go back to Narukami, and they go "ah I decided I would like to stay here in Tatarasuna..." cuz they wanted to be with him and Niwa's like "oh that's nice, welcome to Tatarasuna!" cue deadpan from his future lover

What can they do tho, they picked that man to fall for

#exile.goblet #bloom anon #niwa's daishō #exile.reader #niwa x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral #sumeru arc

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satashiiwrites · 9 months

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wip whenever/Wednesday

so… i know I’ve been tagged a few times in the last two weeks or so but work has been a dumpster fire like usual. Working on my day off at getting a few things spiffed up for posting but I keep returning to this idea so it’s getting expounded upon (and it’s not because my starfield character looks like Glawen’s twin….)

Ahem. Bel and Glawen are couples goals.

Still needs a title tho.

Tagging @monsterrae1 @tkwritesdumbassassins @quietborderline @missanniewhimsy @westernlarch @rosieposiepuddingnpie @whimsyswastry @outtoshatter @alyxmastershipper @valandhirwriter and anyone else who wants to play along. No pressure as always.

Wip whenever banner by radiochatter.

Title: Untitled Bel/Glawen Foundation fic (taking suggestions at this point)

Fandom: Foundation TV

Pairing: Bel Riose/Glawen Curr, likely mentions of Cleon XVII/Demerzel

Fic summary:

Bel Riose has believed his husband dead for the last six years. It’s a punishment worse than death, knowing that it was his defiance that signed his lover’s death warrant. Now, Empire has summoned him back to Trantor because there is a job only the Hero of the Twentieth Fleet can do… and his Glawen is alive.

Tags/warnings: angst. Mention of previous torture/imprisonment (canon for tv series). Glawen is dripping words of revolution in his husband’s ear eventually. First draft. Pining—all the angsty pining. Reunions. Space opera/science fiction setting. Suicidal thoughts because Bel wants to be with Glawen.

He doesn’t believe her. Not really.

Bel does a good impression of being unbroken, but it’s a simulacrum of his former self. Years of torture and constant reminders that his husband had been executed because of his decisions have broken something essential in him.

He used to think he was fearless.

Now, he is nothing but fear.

He fears that Demerzel isn’t lying, and he fears that she is.

Bel makes no effort to rid himself of the filth he’s become accustomed to. If Empire wants to speak with him, he will see him as he is. He’s proud of the dirt underneath his fingernails and the grit that has tattooed itself into his sunburnt skin. His gait, once so proud, is now unsteady, and his muscles atrophied from almost starvation.

Imprisonment has carved away all his excesses and all of his niceties.

He’s remade the legions he used to command out of his fellow prisoners. He is one of them, and he bargains only for them. A man of his people and one who would die for them just as he would have for any of his soldiers that had been his downfall.

If Demerzel is merciful, she’ll finally allow him to die and be reconnected with his husband—his Glawen.

The journey to Trantor is mercifully quick from the salt fields of Lepsis. Each kilometer they travel is another step closer to his death, and the resolve that has sustained him for the last six years sharpens his tongue into a blade that he will use to deal the final blow to his own ego.

He already died six years ago with his Glawen. The husk Lady Demerzel escorts is his shade, vengeful and vicious.

Hollowed out yet burning with an intellect bound only by oaths he was foolish enough to still believe because he has nothing else. Perhaps he really will still be of some use… or perhaps not.

Glawen…I’m so sorry…

Damn him to the darkest and deepest hole. There’s a part of him that hopes his husband is alive. That Demerzel isn’t lying to him, and he has been torturing himself for six years for no reason.

It can’t be real. This new gambit is a lie.

An attempt is made to allow him to clean himself up. One glance in a mirror is all it takes for him to refuse. His hair is long and straggly, touching his shoulders in clumps dyed the red of the dirt he slept in the last six years. Sores cover his joints, and the latest laceration left by a whip upon his face is untended. His teeth are yellow from the nutrient paste that’s been his only sustenance.

If Empire calls him like a master does its dog, he will remain an unclean cur to the last breath. Let the genetic monstrosity be offended by his smell and see what an abused animal looks like.

Demerzel’s barest hint of a smirk makes him bare his rotting teeth at her, swallowing the urge to growl. He’s pleased her and hopes it will be enough for her to grant him his final release.

Barefoot, he walks the halls of the palace. More than one courtier covers their nose as he passes, and whispers follow him. Despite his changed appearance, he is recognized. General Bel Riose, Hero of the Twentieth Fleet and husband to Glawen Curr, his Fleet Supremus, now fallen, widowed, and renamed prisoner 731.

A living example of the hubris of defying Empire’s will—even if it had been the right thing to do.

He’s brought to the throne room, and the cracked part of his mind cackles manically, calling him a stupid dog as he’s brought to heel and paraded about, the brand on the back of his neck itching to remind him he is property.

Emperor Dawn cannot hide his response to Bel’s hygiene, but the other two, Day and Dusk, are unmoved but he spies an irritated light in Day’s eyes. The collars about Dawn’s and Dusk’s necks suggest they are as much pets of Day as Bel is, and this observation amuses him enough that he stands proudly before them, unbowed.

They’re all wearing those fucking blue dresses, the shade darkening with age from the powder blue of Dawn’s to the midnight of Dusk’s. Dawn is a pasty faced teenager and Dusk a prematurely aged and impotent troll.

#bel riose #glawen curr #bel x glawen #foundation apple tv #first draft #wip whenever #wip wednesday #angst #space opera

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euphoriasdesk · 8 months

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Hi, im a grade 12 student and im considering studying law soon, and i was wondering if theres anything you wish you knew about studying law when you were at the stage that I am? thank you

hi! take this w a grain of salt bc ive only been going to school for a month. but here u go!

1. it involves a lot of reading. A LOT. and you have to absorb the concepts as you read them the first time bc, more often than not, you're not gonna have the time to go over them a second time for a more in-depth review. it would just be to jog your recall. don't worry too much tho! this is a skill you naturally develop especially throughout your college years since you would be reading a lot of difficult texts (i assume you'll be taking up an ab program since you have plans to pursue law?) of course, law school is 100x harder than college and you can never fully prepare for the workload, but building a stable foundation as early as now would definitely help you in the future.

2. you need to be great at thinking on your feet. this is something im struggling with at the moment bc of my social anxiety and fear of public speaking (ikr, what am i doing in law school lmao). i have always been the type to internally rehearse what i need to say a thousand times before i actually say it out loud. if you put me on the spot, no matter how impressive the idea is inside my head, it's all disorganized and incohesive the moment it comes out of my mouth. that being said, try to participate as much as you can in activities that expose you to public speaking and impromptu speeches like hosting school events, reporting, debate orgs, etc.

3. you don't have to be smart, but you definitely need to be studious. admittedly, people who are inherently intelligent will have an advantage over the others because they'll be able to understand concepts quicker (it is an edge bc believe me —there's never enough time when you're in law school). sure, it might be a little harder (i know it is for me); nevertheless, you'll survive even if you are not one of those people who are intellectually gifted. what you need is to be consistent in studying, because you absolutely won't last 4 years in law school if you don't put in the work. always come to class prepared. study all the topics assigned, or at least try to cover as many as you can bc you definitely can't bs your way out of a recit.

4. the idea of becoming a lawyer was planted in my mind by suits and htgawm 🤣 don't fall into that trap like i did! the study of law is nothing like its portrayal in popular media (which is understandable bc no one would wanna watch the monotonous lives and routines of law students if not from rose-tinted glasses). media makes a spectacle out of the sleepless nights and the volume of material to be read and mastered, but it doesnt reveal the exhaustion that comes from such to the point that you avoid laying down during your breaks in between periods of studying for fear that you cant close your eyes for a minute wo drifting off to sleep. it glamorizes the idea of allotting most of your waking hours to studying but it doesn't show on TV the faces of your family when you say you cannot come yet again to the plans they made on the weekend. your heart must be REALLY in it, or you should at least want it enough for you to be able to make the sacrifices it's gonna require you to make because—believe me—there would be many.

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rachymarie · 3 months

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So my friend is back in town atm and thusly today I've got an actual social event for the first time in forever (apart from family things) I am tentatively planning to attend and the layout of the day should be pretty straightforward (tho I can already suspect how I may fuck it up like I have in countless days past due to hyperfocus and rambling and not being privy to the concept of realistic passage of time), here is the order:

Coffee, 6am ✓

Meds breakfast, 9.30am ✓

Eat egg, now ASAP

Second coffee ASAP

Possibly do some more work on my drawing WIP (let's clothe this curvy baddie)

Shower - wash hair, exfoliate, shave legs

Message friend (host of drinks) confirming the details that have been thus far somewhat vague - but manage not to get swept into a full-blown conversation that takes up all the get-ready time my (actually) autistic ass requires.

Drink small energy drink

Makeup and a few wines - go all out with a planned eye lewk (do rest of face if time - but then again it's a gamble because I am a noob when it comes to complexion makeup like foundation and don't have a tried-and-true safe product - and I wanna look impressive and not like a massive (scaly orange) dick in front of some of these people forecast to be in attendance, whom I haven't seen since high school)

Make way over to friend's house

I was meant to wash hair yesterday but I only managed to have a quick shower, ain't nobody got time for this mop when running late. So now I've got the weight of All the big Shower tasks (washing hair and shaving takes it out of me, and sometimes takes so long it makes the water run cold)

I tried to get my other bff the Swede to come with me but I don't think he's up to it atm.

I was fretting about being asked the questions dreaded when you are as yet unemployed/disabled such as "what do you do for money" - sometimes they will begin with "what do you do" and when you describe your passions and hobbies they tack on "ah yes, but what do you do for money/how do you earn a living" -but apparently being so blunt is actually a bit rude. Though I am used to neurotypical/allistic etc folks being rude af despite them thinking I am Bad and they can do no wrong. There's a certain double-standard/hypocrisy against us that doesn't get talked about enough, but anyway I'm starting to segue hard now.

But I think if their wording is vague I can get away with responding with some of the mountains of other things I do besides normal employment ventures. I am possibly the most passionate person in the world so thar shouldn't be a negative thing, it should be celebrated. I may be too darn tired to do my own most of the time, but my passion for the arts (yes all of them: fine art, photography, sculpture, fashion/costume design, writing, film-making etc - even dream interpretation, I thrive making arts/creating) is kinda unrivalled

The health improvement practitioner I met with for the first time on Tuesday encouraged me to do some homework for it of practicing responses to likely questions so I feel confident and don't back out on the day.

Socializing is hard, and I don't know how to mask anymore. I need a Jennifer Cook (Love on the Spectrum US), but at least I am armed with her advice that you don't have to always fill silence (with inane chatter, using nearly literally anything as a talking point - it's frustrating/upsetting having that out-of-body experience, watching as you persist in fucking up regular interactions babbling. Sometimes I even run out of breath talking so much)

Sincerely an anxious, autistic schizospec a bit too used to her own company (god i love being alone majority of the time, at least I've got that because some people can't actually stand their own company for more than like 5 seconds) and prone to saying the wrong thing. I will never be "normal" everyone just face it.

Well, this actually turned out to take nearly an hour to type out lol I do love myself a helathy dose of self-sabotage. But I guess at least I always have a headstart as a chronic early bird, my friends can sleep in till midday if they're not careful. Longest I can sleep in is like 7am or if I'm really lucky 8am - but those days are far and few between, I am a severely underslept insomnia queen

This has been a post, thanks for tuning in to today's episode of Rachel Rambles

#personal #to do listing #schizospec #autistic #actually autistic #isolation #anxiety #disabled #actually schizospec #autistic schizospec #autistic and schizo #schizospec problems #autistic problems #hyperverbal #rambling #Rachel rambles

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cassyapper · 1 year

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JOSEPH AVDOL FRIENDSHIP!!! please talk their friendship it's SO underappreciated and unexplored. possibly the biggest missed opportunity in canon when it comes to p3 relationships (thinking on it most of Joseph's relationships are)

you get me like no one else anon

i agree it's a very underutilized relationship. the only time we get to see them interact for a long period of time is when avdol and joseph were affected by bastet and welllll i think for obvious reasons that i wish that wasn't the only time is all

but i do think about them... i think about how joseph met avdol two years before he even got hermit purple. i imagine how they meet is like, joseph is in egypt for some speedwagon foundation event or another and something happens in the street, probably a robbery or smth. the thing is i think the robber was using a stand (i wouldnt be surprised if it was one of the standusers that later serves dio considering a) how many stand users there seems to be in egypt and b) how avdol knew them beforehand) so avdol, seeing this from his fortune telling booth, goes after the guy...but so does joseph. even though joseph doesn't know what's going on cause he can't see stands yet, he still goes after the robber. i think it kinda struck avdol. i dont think he quite liked it at first tho LOL i think he was like "you need to sit down youre gonna get hurt" and joseph is like "nuh uh" anyway the thief demands their attention and whuh! they actually work quite well together. i think after the fight joseph asks avdol if he wants to get a drink and avdol is like oh i don't drink alcohol so they go to a cafe instead and jsut talk. i think avdol kinda tells joseph's fortune there (less to josephs' face and more ruminates over his cards himself) and what the tarot cards tell him is that joseph is a very interesting guy. so even though joseph isn't a standuser (yet) avdol wanted to remain in touch. so i think that was the beginning of their friendship basically. i know it involves a lot of extrapolation on my side but that's what i think. lol

anyway i think they both liked traveling a lot and so they did during those three years before sdc! i think avdol met suzi during this time and they became friends as well. joseph "big bucks" joestar basically was able to take avdol anywhere he wanted to go and it was nuts. i think when joseph got his stand avdol was abso-fucking-lutely elated despite the circumstances of it manifesting cause i dont think avdol really had standuser friends until then (sure he knew other standusers which is why he doesn't have a kakyoin case but still). i bet you anything he was the one going through all these sorta tests to see what exactly hermit purple can do. god bless him avdol is absolutely the kinda guy to get so excited he's like we need to punch a camera now. i wonder if hermit purple manifests in the first place cause joseph was reaching to help avdol but couldnt quite reach him and then boom...vine time.

anyway i also think about joseph seeing avdol bloody in the street in india and scared he's going to have to bury another dear friend and while avdol was older than caesar he wasn't even fucking 30 yet he was so young and when it turns out avdol is breathing ohh i think joseph collapsed honestly. absolutely got at that bitch with some hamon and then ensured his private healing on that island. wagh.

anyway idk i jsut think theyre very silly together. i think joseph brings out the goofy side of avdol he tries so hard to conceal and i think it's quite relieving for avdol. avdol of course is a kind and reliable guide for joseph and he doesnt mind whenever embarrassing things happen and he still stands by him despite everything, both good and bad, stupidly absurd and morbid and serious. i think that in kind relieves joseph a lot. i dont think they really had a father-son relationship per seeeeee but i think it was a family bond. yeah.

anyway this got long sorry anon just. i have thoughts baout them. they were sooo close wah

#cass cries #jjba

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sigmastolen · 2 years

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on the phone with comrade d today, she wondered if they were going to make any more jurassic park movies (she wants to get a dvd box set with all the films, but not yet if they're going to make more). and i replied that my idealistic side would say 'no' because they've done the big reunite-the-cast film and come to a story conclusion, but my much louder, cynical side says 'of course they will because they can make more money from it, especially from merchandising' and that endless milking of cash cows for diminishing artistic returns is part of my current detachment and disillusionment with today's media landscape (in which the only things i am "keeping up with" are jeopardy!, the pbs airings of all creatures great and small, my favorite canadian sheep farmer youtuber, and a handful of npr podcasts).

and my thoughts keep coming back to that, and i can't tell if i've disengaged from all these things i used to really enjoy (or at least be very invested in) because i'm busier than i used to be (or in a different way than i used to be), or because of depression/depression-adjacent patterns, or my attention has always been this fleeting, or if things are actually worse. realistically, it's probably a combination of things, but am i using media crit sound bytes to excuse/cover for personal problems? or is it just that i've read too much criticism and become a snob? (lbr i was always a snob tho; there's even a tag) idk i sometimes feel like i no longer know how to act when someone is really enthusiastic about something i used to and no longer like. this happens very frequently with hp because i work at the library, but also because it was such a foundational text for my generation -- so many of my age-and-social-class peers are deeply devoted potter fans, still, even with how much joanne has shown her ass (and even before that, i was the one saying, no, i'm not interested in pottermore or anything else she has to add, my way of doing fandom is ~*~different~*~) -- but it also happens when i have to say i stopped watching got well before it ended, or that i have no interest in rings of power, or that no, i haven't watched the most recent [x] installments of [y] franchise (this also happens with things i still legitimately like). and feeling nothing in the face of someone else's enthusiasm, enthusiasm i would once have shared, is so uncomfortable. it makes me wonder what's wrong with me, why i can't just enjoy things any more, why i have to bring myself down like this, am i broken?

well? am i?

#leaving tv shows or movie franchises unfinished is my new hobby --#incl. teen wolf leverage star trek star wars jurassic park mcu dctv svu project runway #actually literally every television show i used to follow; i haven't Watched Television since like 2018 #i haven't even managed to finish rewatching some shows for literal years--#i drifted off in the middle of buffy angel torchwood ctm ent leverage and now tcw #://///////////#vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas #fandom is serious business #thinky thoughts

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anyhsalinas · 1 year

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Hi! Im just getting into makeup, and I was wondering if you could answer some of my makeup questions? (you don't have to though)

1. I have shaky hands, would liquid liner or pencil liner be better?

2. are there any specific brands that are really good for beginners?

3. how do I find my right lip shade/foundation shade without spending a bunch of extra money?

4. is foundation *necessary* for a really out-there makeup look?

5. how do you get such straight lines when doing eyeliner/eyeshadow? (and how do I do that? lol)

6. how do I get more confident wearing makeup out and about?

ok, that's all, thank you so much, your blog is so cool. and also you don't need to answer this if you don't want. :)

Hi! Of course! I'm not a professional MUA, I only do makeup on myself, so I'm not the most experienced person, but I'll share what I know in case it's useful.

Sorry I took some time to answer your message, you got some very good questions and I thought about recording videos showing how to do some of the tips I’m talking about to then show you, but I ended up not finding time for that until now, so maybe in the future... But for now, I tried to cover everything in here, so I’m sorry for the gigantic answer. 😅

1. Shaky hands

Here are some things that I do that help me when making precise lines/shapes:

A) Support: I do my makeup on a table, not standing. And when I’m doing eyeliner, to help my hands shake less, I wether support my elbow on the table or I support the side of my hand, or my pinkie finger, on my cheeks.

B) Mirror: I use a table mirror because you don’t need to hold them, like hand mirrors, and you can easily move them, so I can place the mirror in whatever angle or distance I need. The mirror I use have a fix height tho, so to adjust its height I improvise by putting some boxes underneath. There are some more fancy mirrors that are a lot better, mirrors that move to any angle or height and ones that have light on them, but they are more expensive, so I stick with the most basic ones.

C) Visibility: I use a ring light in front of my table while doing my makeup, and the mirror I got is normal in one side and has a 2x zoom on the other side, I also got a smaller one that has a zoom of 5x. I don’t know the proper name of those kinds of mirrors, so I call them “zoom mirrors" and they are great to help you see what you’re doing more closely.

D) Breathing: I also hold my breath while drawing lines on my face and stop drawing everytime I need to breathe.

E) Product: the best types of products for eyeliner:

Powder/pressed eyeshadow: the easiest product for doing eyeliner, in my opinion, is eyeshadow because you can do looks like this one that don’t need to be super sharp and you can always use the tape technique to get the wing straight;

Gel eyeliner: most people say this is the easiest to apply, however some gel eyeliners don’t dry completely and can easily ruin your makeup, so you’ll need to research for a good one before buying;

Liquid eyeliner: it’s the hardest but the most waterproof and “transfer proof” (some gel eyeliners are also waterproof, though) because they dry faster. But the biggest secret lies on the brushes...

F) Brush: the easiest brushes to do eyeliner with are small angled ones or small flat ones, because they are easier to make straight lines with. They are great for doing eyeliner using eyeshadow or gel liner, but I never tried with liquid liner so I don’t know how well this would work to be able to inform you, sorry. 😬

G) Calm: precision requires calm and patience, so eyeliner is definitely not something you should do when you’re running late, specially if you don’t have a lot of practice yet. You have to be slow and careful until you get more confident with it, so take your time. And try not to get nervous afraid of making mistakes because you can always fix anything, just remove the part that’s messed up, reapply the foundation or concealer (if you’re using any) and try again.

H) Practice: and, of course, practice consistently. The more you try the easier it gets. I don’t have super firm hands, but I paint since I was a kid so I already know how to deal with the amount of “shakiness” of my hands (Idk if this word exists in english, but I hope it does 😅). But doing straight lines on a face is different than doing it on paper because papers are plane, faces aren’t. So the best way of learning makeup is by practicing and adapting to yourself, you need to experiment to find the products, brushes and techquines that work best for you. But yes, in this process we can spend a lot of money, so I’m gonna share a few things I do for saving money with makeup...

Things I do because I’m poor 😬: I bought myself a while ago an eyeshadow palette that has a decent variety of colors, and I use the shadows for my eyes, of course, but I also use a dark brown eyeshadow to fill my brows, a medium tone brown to contour my face, warmer browns as bronzer, pink eyeshadows as blush, and if that palette had a light shimmery shade I would use it as a highligher too. So with only one eyeshadow palette that contains some pinks and browns you can already do a lot. And I don’t use concealer, I only use an affordable medium coverage foundation that already covers my dark circles quite well (you could also do the opposite and use only concealer).

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2. Brands:

I haven’t tried enough brands and also most of the brands I use are only available in my country, so if you don’t live in Brazil you probably won’t have easy access to them. But I don't think that brands actually matters, because the same brand can have both good and bad products… So I usually look for some reviews on Youtube before buying any product, specially expensive ones. But, for begginers, I think is more important to pay attention to the texture of the products: powder, creamy, liquid, gel… Powder products are usually the easiest to blend. So between creamy highlighter and powder highlighter or creamy contour and powder contour, I prefer the powder ones (like I said, I use my eyeshadows for almost everything 😅). Brushes are important too: brushes with soft hairs are good for blending and brushes with firm hairs are good for precise lines. Here is a guide from Pinterest on what each brush shape is good for.

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3. Lipstick and Foundation shades:

This is a very hard one, you really have to swatch some shades to use them as reference. And you'll probably never find the perfect shade, only shades that are good enough… Kkk

A) Foundation: Some makeup stores offer swatches of the products for you to try on yourself before buying, and some brands sell swatches online (a mini version of their products), so you can buy a few to try on before buying the bigger size product. But when I'm indecided between two foundation shades, I prefer to get the lightest one because then I can apply countour or bronzer around my face to look less pale. With a darker foundation, you can apply a lighter loose powder on top to make it less dark, but I personally prefer the bronzer option.

B) Lipstick: for lipstick I would recommend you to start with browns, reds and warm pinks (preferably not so bright) because these are shades that usually look good on everyone. Here are some examples from Pinterest: Image 1, Image 2, Image 3.

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4. Is foundation necessary?

Makeup is not math so there's no right or wrong (just don't wear things that give you allergy, of course 😅), you can do it however you prefer and nobody can tell you otherwise. It's your face, your style… And I've already seen a few girls on Instagram do stunning both basic and glam makeup looks with no foundation on. I personally like to wear heavy foundation bc I like my makeup to look less natural and more like a porcelain doll, but it's just my personal style preference. In my opinion, there are no rules in fashion and makeup, we make our own styles for ourselves.

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5. Straight lines

I believe I already answered that in the first question, but if you have any questions left, let me know.

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6. Confidence to wear makeup

Now that's a question I can't help you a lot with bc I'm quite insecure with that too, kkk But I used to be more insecure, I couldn't even wear just a lipstick outside of my house and now I can wear basic makeup looks… but not creative ones. I wish I was brave enough to wear my most creative looks to go out, but I'm still not. 😅 I'm a very introverted person so I try not to call much attention bc if someone likes my makeup and comes talk to me about it I'll get extremelly nervous, so I like to be invisible, kkk. But what usually makes me feel more comfortable wearing makeup is to know that there are other people in the place where I am that are wearing makeup too. But specially going out with friends that are also wearing makeup. This way at least I don't feel alone, kkk. That’s how I do it.

But always remember that you're not harming anyone with your makeup, you're not commiting a crime and your personality is not defined by whatever stereotypes people have about people who wear makeup. So if somebody gets bothered with your makeup (unless you've litteraly written insults to other people on your face or something, kkk) they are overexaggerating, and this is their problem to fix, not yours. Other people don’t have to like your style, what matters is that you are feeling cool in what you’re wearing and nobody is being forced to look at you, so there’s nothing to feel bad about. And I know this is easier said than done, but let’s repeat it to ourselves until it we learn it. 😅

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And that’s it, I hope I helped with something. Like I said, if you have any questions left, just ask.

And I'm so glad to know you like my blog, thank you very much!

Have a nice day/night! 🤗💕

#ask #makeup tutorial #makeup tips

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