#if money was a thing i actually had anyway
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♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader
♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)
♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping
♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol
anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.
You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.
You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.
“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”
You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.
You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.
Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.
“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”
He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”
Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.
#slashers#slashers x reader#slashers x you#thomas hewitt#tcm#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas brown hewitt#tcm 2006#tcm 2003#texas chainsaw the beginning#texas chainsaw massacre#gender neutral reader#g/n reader
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Okay here's one. I really dont think I'm the asshole but my ex sure does.
AITA for refusing to buy my partner a jar of pickles?
So this story has like, a little background and some confounding factors i think but i really could go both ways on whether i was the asshole.
Ill start with both my ex (21nb) and i (23f) had severe mental health issues and were working on treatment when we were together. Theyd been in and out of inpatient stays throughout our three year relationship. Towards the Day of Pickles, i had my first inpatient stay where i got help i desperately needed to keep myself safe. This happened to be about a week after my 23rd birthday, but about two and a half weeks before their 21st birthday.
Anyway, at that time i had just gotten out of the hospital and started a new job at Joanns Fabrics (i outlived that retail fucker and im proud of it). I had been unemployed for the previous year and a half because of the pandemic and so the retail job was really my saving grace to have some sort of income to buy gas and groceries. My parents let me live rent free with them in their basement but i spent a LOT of time essentially squatting at my ex's dorm because my situation with my parents was not great.
Now my ex was also being financially abused by their mom so they had a monthly "allowance" of 200$ (of their own money they made at their on campus job) and no access to their bank statements. So i spent a lot of my own money on gas and groceries for both of us, and anything we wanted to do for fun, like visit the city. Without an income, this was SUPER stressful for me and i spiraled pretty hard with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Supporting two people, even minimal living expenses, on an income of exactly 0$ is the WORST.
Anyway, i got out of the hospital and pretty much immediately went back to picking up as many shifts as i could at work because id been on staff for all of two weeks before hospitalization. Knowing retail, i was probably on the precipice of losing hours or being fired altogether.
My ex wanted me to take time off to celebrate their 21st birthday (they didnt celebrate my birthday that year) and travel to see their family and drink etc. I got scheduled for an inconvenient time. I would have to miss their birthday if i didnt find someone to cover. I managed to switch shifts with another coworker who was nice enough to let me have her morning shift, so i was able to at least travel separately and be a little late to dinner.
The night of their birthday my ex wanted to get drunk and so we went to the liquor store. Now im generally pretty picky about alcohol but if i get anything special i always get enough to share. Mysteriously, no one ever offers to share the expense or pay me back. So with all of 150$ in my account, i purchased enough alcohol for myself and the rest of the party, and a bottle of (cheap af) liquor for myself. I was broke af until my next paycheck and was pretty much planning on giving up meals and staying at home because the commute to work was shorter and meant less gas.
My ex picked out a jar of boozy pickles and asked if i would get it for them for their birthday. I should note that with all the stress i was under i had found a birthday present for them but hadnt actually placed the order (was waiting to get paid). I also didnt lie to them about this and had told them that i hadnt gotten their birthday present yet. They were upset by this and told me they felt like i didnt care about them, to which i snapped and raised my voice a little.
I gave them a bit of a reality check. I told them in no uncertain terms that i was under a lot of stress, from nearly killing myself to being flat broke with little to no help from my family other than a conditional roof over my head, ordering their birthday present wasnt super high on my list of things to do and that i knew what i was going to get them and that i intended to order it as soon as i had the money to do so. After years of the sole attention being focused on keeping them alive, i needed some support and acting like i didnt care completely ignored EVERYTHING i did to keep us both afloat.They cried and played the victim as they tended to do and i was too stressed to do anything but be angry.
So when they asked for the pickles i told them no. I have NOTHING left in my bank account, and anything that was in my account was already allocated for something else.
They told me i was being selfish for buying myself alcohol on THEIR birthday, not even getting them a present, yelling at them, and then refusing to buy the one thing they asked for, especially after i refused to take off work the day before to hang out with them and their family. In front of our friends.
I told them that i was purchasing the alcohol for the whole party, that the present had slipped my mind, and that they were accusing me of not caring about them when i snapped. Then i walked out.
My bff went outside to help me cool down and i told him what was going on and how stressed i was and he said that he agreed with me, it was childish to expect me to pay for everything with no help from anyone and then act like im unreasonable for having to put limits on what i can purchase.
My ex ended up getting so pissed by all of this they broke up with me two days later, saying that their birthday was the final straw for them after I'd been so codependent and relying on them too much to survive.
I think its all ridiculous given all of the stress factors i was dealing with at the time. I feel like we're all entitled to the occasional emotional outburst/bouts of forgetfulness when we're stressed. But my ex seems to think im a selfish asshole. We've been no contact for the last two years so this isnt like a pressing concern or anything but it does make me roll my eyes occasionally.
So tumblr, aita?
(Btw im also much more financially stable now that I'm fully and properly medicated and away from them.)
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symptoms of the culture
Summary: Last call at the bar and you’re still here? Jesus Christ girl, get yourself together!
Pairing: e.m. x f!reader
W.C.: 1.9k
A/N: a continuation of our meet cute with eddie ☺️
Meeting Eddie at the bar was like something from a romantic comedy, and unlike everything you’d experienced before.
He did end up letting you buy that drink after all, which turned in to him buying you a drink because “it’s the polite thing to do.”
Your friend checked in maybe once or twice before deciding you could handle yourself, if it came to that (she didn’t seem to think that would be the case though). The crowd had dwindled down to mostly the regulars and friends of the bartenders, and you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until someone bellowed, “Last call!”
Eddie’s deft fingers traced the rings of condensation on the wooden table, dragging droplets of water into various shapes. Enthralled, you quickly realized that you could watch him do something like that all day, if you weren't careful.
“Shit,” You say, downing the last of your beer, “I didn’t mean to hold you up for so long.”
His lips kick up to one side, dimples prominent despite the low light. There’s a glint in his eye as he looks you up and down, a slow assessment that has you shifting in your seat.
“Riddle me this, sugar,” He says drumming his fingers on the table, “You really think there’s any place I’d rather be?”
And with that, he leaves to pay the tab, leaving his question hanging in the air.
Not that you could have formulated a semblance of a response anyway. Grabbing your jacket from the back of the chair, you shove your free hand into your purse to scrounge up your card to cover the tab as you sidle up beside him at the bar top.
Eddie’s got two bills in front of him, one large hand over each so you can’t figure out which is yours. Going to pluck either one from his grasp is useless, and after the second attempt, he simply holds it above your head and out of your reach.
“Try me, short stuff,” He taunts with a huff of a laugh. “Besides, your money’s no good here.”
Thinking twice before you could potentially demean yourself by actually jumping up to steal the bill from him, you turn to the bartender with a smile instead to ask:
“Can you print another bill please?”
And once you’ve supplied your last name, it should be a done deal. You expect him to reply with a nod and a ‘you got it’, accompanied by the familiar sound of a receipt being printed.
Instead, it goes a little something like this:
The bartender turns to glance at Eddie, and he gives the bartender some sort of look— which, what would the bartender need approval from a patron? Then, he shoves both receipts into the jar by the register and leans against the bar top and props an elbow on it as he faces you, like he’s waiting for something.
“Can’t do it.” The bartender sighs, “The bossman says you’re money’s no good here, them’s the rules.”
You try, and fail, to keep your jaw from dropping.
“Y-you own this bar? You’re that Eddie?”
“In the flesh and at your service.”
A beat of silence passes between you as the bartender clears his throat and begins closing preparations.
“Well, technically,” Eddie allows, with a twist of his lips, “I co-own it with a buddy of mine. This and couple of other places around town.”
And, well. For someone who dresses like they should be in a biker gang or fronting a prog-metal band, Eddie sure didn’t strike you as a real estate mogul.
“That’s cool,” You say with a nod, hand shoved into your purse once more. Rifling around a bit, you come back with a glorious fist of cash and shove it into the kitty near the register that simply reads, Alms for the pour.
“Soooo,” He drawls, the awkward end of the night coming upon you rapidly. “You good to drive or…?”
“Oh, no worries,” You say flippantly, quickly debating whether your should call an Uber at the hour of just suck it up and walk home. You could cut through campus and maybe shave five minutes off of the journey, anyway.
“I can get you an Uber—”
“No, it’s fine, really.” You adjust the shoulder strap of your bag and grab your keys, “I live just off the campus, it’s walkable from here.”
Eddie’s fingers loop around your wrist before you can say your goodbyes and high-tail it out of there. The silver of his rings glints in the light and the cool metal contrasts with the warmth of his hand as it engulfs yours.
“Nuh uh, not happening.” His tone leaves no room for discussion. “I’m not gonna let you walk—”
“It’s not even a mile!” You interject, “I cut through campus and skirt the park and I’m golden.”
“The park? At three in the morning?” He shakes his head, fingers forming a bracelet around your wrist, “Not even sorry to say, that is unequivocally not happening.”
Eddie tugs you with him as he passes behind the bar and down a small corridor to the back office.
“You good closing on your own Matty?”
The bartender, Matty, you assume, nods with an easy smile.
“Sure, Ed.”
Eddie releases your hand to grab a backpack and a helmet. He tosses the bag to you saying, “Throw your purse in there, you don’t mind wearing that on the bike, right?”
“I really am fine walking home, I haven’t fallen or stumbled in years,” You say as he turns back around, “That’s how good I am.”
“It’s not your walking capabilities I’m worried about here, sugar.” He holds the black helmet in his hands, fingers drumming on the closed visor. “It’s the creeps.”
“This from you, the man that very nearly creeped me out earlier tonight?”
Matty fails to stifle his laugh from the desk.
Eddie rolls his eyes in exasperation, “Yeah, laugh it up newbie.” Taking you by the shoulder, he steers you toward the service entrance and you find yourself not even trying to come up with excuses anymore.
Well, except for:
“Oh, you meant bike as in motorcycle.”
He snorts from behind you, finishing the job of zipping the backpack, now containing your purse, and looping the straps around your shoulders.
“Well it’s certainly not a pennyfarthing, if that’s what you were thinking.”
“I’ve never been on one before.”
“No time like the present.”
Clapping you on the shoulder, he turns you around to face him and pries a hair tie from his wrist. You take it from his outstretched hand, your fingertips brushing for a fleeting moment. Without much fuss, you throw your hair into a loose bun at the nape of your neck.
“May I?” Eddie asks, presenting you with the helmet.
After you nod, he deftly flips the helmet around and takes a step closer to place it on your head. It’s not a perfect fit, but it’ll have to do. He has you shake your head left and right, then up and down before he’s satisfied you won’t crack your skull on the pavement.
In a few strides he’s near the bike, and mounting it in one fluid motion. His legs are long and pretty fucking perfect for, oh you don’t know, maybe straddling later yourself.
But now you’re just getting ahead of things.
You follow his lead and step toward the bike; taking his offered hand as you find your seat behind him.
“So,” Eddie says leaning to start up the bike, once he’s satisfied that your feet are on the foot rest. “All you really gotta do is hold on.”
Your hands go to his shoulders and you can feel them rise with his soft chuckle.
“That’s cute,” He says, taking both your hands in his and moving them to his waist, which causes you to bridge the few inches of space between your bodies to accomodate the movement.
I mean, there are worse things than having your tits smooshed up against some guy’s back on a motorcycle, right?
“You good?”
And you can barely hear him over the rev of the engine, so you nod and raise your voice to rattle out your address. He half-turns toward you, eyes finding yours through the visor of the helmet and giving you a wink.
He grips the handles, pulls the clutch, and kicks off.
“Alright, sugar, let’s get you home.”
Holding on for dear life, you quickly learn that as he leans, you lean. There’s a lot of movement on a bike that you hadn’t anticipated, so much so that Eddie’s shirt, at some point, rides up his abdomen. Too busy gawking at the sights and sounds of your first motorcycle ride, you don’t notice the subtle warming of your fingertips against his bare skin until it’s too late.
You were confident that the sound of the engine would drown out the unfortunate squeak that escaped your mouth, but at the feeling of Eddie’s stomach muscles contracting in what could only be laughter, and the shaking of his shoulders, now has you second guessing yourself.
Oh, well.
Rolling to a smooth stop in front of your apartment, he kills the engine and helps you off the bike.
Back on solid ground, you slough off the backpack and unzip it to grab your purse and keys. You pass it back to him and remove the helmet, mourning briefly the soft scent of tobacco and clary sage— his cologne, maybe?
Hooking a finger through the hair tie at the back of your neck, you pull it out, and shake your hair from its confines before offering it back to him.
Eddie just smiles with a shake of his head, “Nah, keep it— I gotta million of ‘em.”
He stays seated on the bike, eyes whiskey-warm and crinkling at the edges. With a shrug, you push the elastic up and around your hand to settle on your wrist.
It’s relatively quiet for a winter’s night around the campus, all the undergrads gone home for the holidays and not expected back until mid-January. A brisk wind blows and a shiver runs through you, one hand rubbing furiously along your arm, while the other grips the helmet resting against your hip.
All the while, Eddie simply sits there to drink you in. Eyes roving across the full of your cheeks, the elegant slope of your neck and the necklaces strung there. Your hair wild and waving in the breeze. And even if it’s cold outside, he can’t bring himself to notice— not with you looking like that standing there before him.
“Hey, Eddie,” You say, stepping toward him. Taking the helmet in both hands, you put it on for him and have half a mind to make him go through the head shaking nonsense he was adamant over back at the bar. But it fits him perfectly, just your luck.
Before stepping back and retreating into your apartment, he takes your hand in his and gives it a slight squeeze. You can feel the heat skittering under your skin, terribly welcome in the cold morning air.
Squeezing his fingers back in return, you part with a soft, “Happy New Year.��
He watches as you open the front door of your ground floor apartment, giving him a shy wave as a dog barks from somewhere behind you. He can see your lips moving as you turn back to say something to the dog, smiling as you bend to greet them.
Kicking off as the door closes and the lights flick on in your home, Eddie cruises down the deserted street with a smile on his face.
And maybe, this could turn out to be his year after all.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#fic: ml#Spotify
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Happy 28th! Here is my April 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!
When All Is Said And Done by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 (76k)
“You must be thinking of another of your ex-husbands,” Louis snapped back, and Harry stilled, slowly turning to face him. There was something almost dangerous in Harry's look then but Louis stayed firm, not cowering away.
“Thankfully, I only have the misfortune of one ex-husband,” Harry said darkly, snatching up the plates and slamming them onto the table.
*****
Louis and Harry were married, but things fell apart, ending in divorce, broken hearts and separate lives. Years later, their paths cross once more, and time together forces old feelings to resurface. But is it too little, too late?
Greenhouses AU Series by TiredTiredTz / @tiredtiredtz (63k)
Glass Closets and Greenhouses (60k)
Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters.
Sources close to the pair tell us the couple have been dating for a while, with rumours of house hunting, marriage and even kids on the cards!
Styles, 29, is as well known for his whirlwind love life as his chart topping music. Most recently linked to British fashion designer Alex Millet-Sloan, Harry has stayed tight-lipped on rumours of any romantic rendezvous between himself and footballer Tomlinson, 31, yet fans online are convinced that all evidence points to #Tomlinstyles being the real deal.
Not Conditional (3k)
Harry is bald and this is how I’m coping.
Set a few years after the events of Glass Closets and Greenhouses.
It Feels Different When You’re With Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (45k)
Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.
Every Lonely Place by HamPalpert (38k)
Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough. Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world. Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions. And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.
The Act of Making Noise by suspendrs / @suspendrs (32k)
“Oh,” Harry frowns, waving him off. “No, I could never. I respect myself too much to sing for a living.”
It feels like a slap across the face, but Louis does his best not to stiffen, blinking once and then frowning. “What?”
“Those people are always so miserable, you know?” Harry says, hopping down off his stool and straightening his sweater. “There’s so much pressure on them, and they have to work so hard to keep up appearances, I can’t even imagine how difficult that is. I can’t even stand to listen to pop music today, let alone watch TV or read the magazines. It makes me so sad, thinking that those people, you know, the ones who actually went into it with heart, they only ever just wanted to make music and instead they got turned into things on leashes being paraded around to make money for other people,” he says. “Anyway, you can have the stool.”
Or, Louis's famous, Harry has no idea who he is, and they get snowed in together at a ski lodge in Vermont.
It’s About Time by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (3k)
Best friends and roommates, Louis and Harry have been through a lot together, including law school for Louis, marriage and divorce for Harry. Their imminent eviction forces them to admit their feelings.
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Considering this is a site where so many people have aspirations to become professional authors or artists, I think it’s really astounding that many (often the same) people encourage book piracy. And by that I mean: They don’t just do it behind closed doors (whatever, do what you have to do and keep it to yourself)—they actually package it as some act of immeasurable kindness in the name of “social justice”. And I’d say: If you’re not a professional author and have no experience in or with publishing, hence don’t really understand what it means to make your living as a writer, maybe just… don’t? And if you ever want to sell your books, maybe also just… don’t?
It’s not some cool subversive thing in the name of social justice you’re doing. You’re really hurting authors with it, and it’s in no way comparable to “fighting the big bad streamers.”
Yes, Neil Gaiman will be okay, but if you’re saying it’s okay to do it to him, you’re also saying by extension it’s okay to do it to lesser known authors. And those authors make up the vast (and I mean vast!) majority of authors. But maybe you’re one of those people who think that all artists are minted and picture them in La La Land, entirely possible. If that’s the case, maybe educate yourself what the median income of authors is, be very surprised and wake up. Sometimes, it really helps to think before hitting post. And if rants are not your thing, this is the exit sign because I’m not going to mince my words…
Here are a couple of really good comments from *that* post that people should maybe inwardly digest before they prioritise being oh-so-understanding and supportive of every Tom, Dick & Harry who “can’t afford the book” via piracy (how about buying them one instead if you care so much. No? Thought so) over supporting authors, artists and, yes, libraries:
(Re the last comment: Or use online libraries—they’re also free. That was also part of above post btw. Libby, Hoopla etc exist for a reason.)
If that’s all too hard, then let’s at least stop pretending on here that we care about supporting authors and artists while vocally supporting book piracy. Because really, it’s the same in all arts, even if the symptoms are slightly different—take it from one who is both a published author and used to be a stage performer.
And to say it quite frankly: These “ideas” are probably held by the same people who were tearfully blabbering about the arts being what kept them going during the pandemic and then forgot about it all when lockdown was over. Or maybe they are the same people who think that art is a “jolly pastime”, and that everyone should just be content to “do it for the love of it and give their art away for free because awwwww, so amazing, here, buy food with my exposure bucks.” Go on then, write and consume fanfics and create fanart, problem solved. Just don’t ever ask for the pro art that inspires it again. Ah no, I forgot, it’s all made for money and soulless anyway, innit? Why oh why then do you want to consume and pirate it though?
You’re not progressive and/or supportive of artists. You just have no clue how making a living in the arts works and think your comfort (= “I have to have all the things even if I can’t afford them”) matters more than someone’s livelihood (namely that of the people who devoted their lives to creating that art for you), and it really shows.
I don’t care about anyone’s Google history and even said so several time on here when people asked (this is the latest one, and yes, I see the people who had a “reaction” to this one or the reblog above, but I bet that’s “coincidence”). Do whatever you want to do, it’s your choice, keep it to yourself. But stop pretending that piracy means “caring about the noble cause”, because repackaging entitlement as social activism is performative crap…
#book piracy#authors#publishing#support libraries#support writers#books & libraries#bookblr#books#writers#personal rant
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Barbie Princess and the Pauper.
SVSSS.
If you make SY Annalise, and SJ Erika, that fits with their backstories. The princess is the rich kid and the pauper is the former slave. (The image of SJ glaring at SY instead of singing ‘I’m just like you~’ is so funny to me.)
Then that would make LBH Julian, Annalise’s tutor. As I started writing this post, I was going to argue flipping SY and SJ around, because it would make sense for LBH to be King Dominic, but then I actually thought things through.
You have Prince Shen Yuan, who is going to be married to a foreign king to save his kingdom. He doesn’t want to do it. All he wants to do is read his trashy books, and is actually a little in love with his servant LBH, but he will for his people. Duty and all that.
Shen Jiu works in a dress shop in town. They don’t own him, technically. Not in the same way his past masters did. But in every way that matters, really. He owes them a great deal of money, so he can’t leave. And it’s… fine. It’s not the worst job, even if he will be working there forever after his childhood friend tragically abandoned him. But he gets food most days and the ladies (other than the owner) like him. This doesn’t stop him from being a angry, bitter man, of course. He’s still SJ after all lol
They may or may not sing a duet about doing what’s right, in the name of duty.
SY wants to see the city, just one time before he’s trapped in the castle! So LBH takes him downtown, where SY runs into SJ. They may or may not have a musical number about how much they look alike.
Then, like the movie, SY gets kidnapped. I don’t know who Preminger is here. I thought about it, and I can’t decide who to put there. It can’t be LBH’s family, tho, because then why is he there as a servant??? Anyway, SY gets kidnapped, so LBH drags SJ kicking and screaming to the castle to play the Prince while he investigates on the side. They may or may not have a musical number about LBH trying to teach SJ to be a Prince.
But then SJ has to go on a date with SY’s fiancé! And it turns out!!! The foreign king is YQY!!!!
YQY had thought SJ dead. He’s been practically a zombie for years, believing that he had failed SJ, and ruling the kingdom on autopilot. Why is he a king now? Uh, long lost son or something. Anyway, when he sees SJ, pretending to be SY, he freezes up. But then he convinces himself that it can’t be SJ! Because this is SY, obviously, who has very dedicated records keeping tract of the fact that yes, the Prince was indeed the prince his entire life and not a former slave. So he spends this entire date upset that he’s falling in love and betraying/replacing SJ.
On SJ’s part, he’s also upset about how much he likes YQY. He doesn’t recognize YQY as Qi-Ge, of course, but it still feels like he’s replacing him. Also, this isn’t his life. This isn’t his fiancé. Either SY will come back, and marry him and SJ will go back to the dress shop alone. Or SJ will stay the Prince forever, with the knowledge that none of this was every his, and he only got it by stealing another man’s life.
They may or may not sing a romantic duet that hides all the angst they are feeling.
Of course, SJ gets found out rather quickly after that. LBH has been caught and thrown in with SY, leaving no one to stop SJ from going to jail for the disappearance of the Prince. YQY is devastated to hear that SJ would do something like that, but more than that, YQY is elated to hear that this isn’t SY. It’s an unknown SY look alike, and how many of those can there be out there??? This has to be SJ, and now YQY has to help him out of prison.
Then SY and LBH escape, and come save the day, and find precious geodes to save the kingdom, etc etc etc. SY and LBH confess to each other, and live happily ever after, while YQY (after breaking SJ out of prison in a very illegal way) tearfully tells SJ that he is sorry and that he thought he was dead and he couldn’t find him and-
SJ, who just got broken out of prison by the foreign king that he had went on a date with earlier by pretending to be someone else, can only stare as he realizes that this is Qi-Ge.
SJ strings him along for a year until he feels he can accept any apology. And then they get married, because he is not passing up the chance to be a ruler of a country. Who do you think he is??
#this got so QiJiu heavy?#I didn’t mean to do that lol#svsss#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#shen jiu#yue qingyuan#luo binghe#qijiu#bingqiu#barbie princess and the pauper
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Cowboy Casanova
Summary: When you decided to move to the middle of nowhere to get some perspective in your life, you expect to be bored out of your mind. You definitely don’t expect Bacara.
Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader
Word Count: 4123
Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, biting, hints of a breeding kink
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things
A/N: This started out at one thing, turned into another, which turned into a third thing, and anyway it's now what it was supposed to be so I had to change the name, which makes me sad. The Original name was Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy. Anyway! I hope you like my sin. Also, this is a western au because...I don't have a reason other than Bacara with a cowboy hat. I'm sorry. Anyway, no requests got done today because of this. Note, this isn't edited - so if you see any errors, no you didn't.
“You’re staring,”
“Am not.” You reply absently as you drag your gaze across Bacara’s bare chest, your eyes lingering first on his dog tags and then on the nipple piercings that he got when he lost a bet.
He chuckles, low and deep, “You’re still staring.”
“If you don’t want to be stared at, then you should put on a shirt.” You counter, unrepentant.
Bacara arches a brow and flings a rag at your face, making you sputter and scrunch up your nose, “You wouldn’t say that if I was staring at you.”
“Of course not. Double standards are a thing after all.”
He rolls his eyes and walks over to you, leaning into your personal space as he picks up his rag again, a smug smirk crossing his face when your gaze drops to his chest and then his waist, before snapping back to his face, “See something you like, city mouse?”
Your face heats, but you keep your gaze locked with his, “Just worried that your pants are going to fall down since they’re hanging so low.”
“Fashion choice,” Bacara replies with a shrug, as he walks away from you and back over to the machine he’s trying to make work, “Besides, it’s hot as balls out here, and I hate the feel of my shirt sticking to my skin.”
Well, he’s not wrong about that.
Bacara leans back into the engine block and reaches in, “Why don’t you just pay someone to come and fix it?” You ask.
“You have the money for some repair man from the city to drive out here and fix this? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
“You own, like, a dozen cows.”
“There are three dozen of them, actually.”
“That’s not the point that you think it is.”
He laughs and pulls back, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Come here, I need a small hand.”
“I don’t fix things, Bacara.” You warn, though you do hop off the bale of hay that you’ve been sitting on and walk over to him.
“You need to learn, city mouse. What happens if something breaks in your home?”
“Uh, I’ll call you.”
“What if I’m not available?”
“Why wouldn’t you be available?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t exist to come running at your beck and call.” Bacara replies dryly.
“What? Wow! Really?” You marvel sarcastically, and then you yelp when he pinches your side. “Rude!”
“Alright, Little Miss Sass, I need you to reach into there and feel around for any loose wires.” Bacara explains as he presses his chest against your back and points where he needs your help.
“Wires? I’m not going to get electrocuted, am I?” You ask as you try, really, really hard to not get distracted at the feel of him pressed against you.
He shoots you a look, “Of course not. It’s totally safe.”
“Fiiine.” You sigh out as you reach into the opening and feel around blindly, “Um...okay, I found a wire.”
“Excellent work,” His voice is low against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver. Embarrassingly, he notices and a quiet chuckle falls from him, “I need you to follow the wire and tell me if it’s connected on both ends.”
You ignore him, as best as you can, and feel around for a moment, “I...think so? It doesn’t feel loose at least.”
“Damn, I was hoping you’d say the opposite. Alright, pretty girl. You’re done. This is now, officially, someone elses problem.”
You pull your hand out and make a face at the oil on your fingers, “I thought you didn’t want to pay-”
“I don’t, which is why I’ll have Neyo come and fix it.”
“Ripping off your own brothers, shame-”
“What are brothers for if not a little unpaid labor every now and then?” Bacara asks rhetorically, “Come on, you can come inside and get that stuff off your hand.” He picks his hat up off his work table, and pauses before setting it on his head.
He shoots you a small smirk, and drops his hat on your head, it immediately tilts over your eyes, and you use the back of your hand to tilt the rim back so you can look at him, “Well, how do I look?” You ask with a small grin.
Bacara lazily drags his gaze across your body, his smirk growing, “Hot as hell,” He drawls.
Your face heats again. Still, you’re not able to stop the delight from sliding across your face, “Well, thank you~”
He stares at you for a moment longer, and then motions for you to follow him. It’s kind of unnecessary, you could navigate Bacara’s ranch blindfolded and drunk, but you do appreciate being able to walk with him.
After you get yourself cleaned up, which takes a lot longer than you anticipated since the oil just did not want to come off your hands, you meander from the guest bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen.
He’s still not wearing a shirt, and you’re beginning to think that he’s walking around like that intentionally. “Did you manage to get the oil off?” Bacara asks as he turns to face you.
“Yeah, eventually. The bottle of special soap was empty, so I had to make some more real quick.” You shrug easily as you sink into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. You don’t mind, you normally make it for him anyway.
Your parents would be so proud. Thousands of credits spent on a fancy Chem degree...and you use it mixing oil removing soap.
“Sorry about that, I should have checked earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You fold your legs under you, and your attention lands on something interesting on the table.
Now. Bacara is a rancher, there’s always new and interesting things laying around his house that he needs to explain to you. Over the year that you’ve been friends with him, you’ve learned a lot about ranching and about the things that he needs to do his job well.
This, however, is new.
“Bacara?” You sound slightly bemused as you reach across the table and hook a finger under, surprisingly silky, maroon rope, “What’s this for?” You ask as you turn your gaze to him.
Unless your eyes are deceiving you, there’s a hint of a blush on his face.
“It’s a joke gift. From Cody.” Bacara replies as he walks over to the table and picks up the rope, only to hesitate for a moment, “Although-” he murmurs quietly, as if to himself, as he pulls some of the rope out and lays it across your wrist, “It would look amazing wrapped around your wrists.”
You tilt your head and your mouth is slightly dry, you’re pretty sure that his comment was meant to be an inside thought, not an outside one, but it’s not like you can unring that bell.
“I think it’d look better wrapped around yours.” You blurt, and his gaze snaps to meet yours, “The color would look amazing against your skin tone.” You add, sheepishly.
He stares at you, and you stare right back at him.
And just as you’re about to apologize, Bacara smirks.
“Alright.”
You blink at him, “Alright?”
“Alright. Lets see what you’re capable of.”
You blink at him again. And then a third time as his words process, “Wait! Really?”
“Really. Unless you think you can’t handle it.”
“I can handle it,” You shoot back, “The question is can you?”
He folds his arms across his broad chest, “Let’s make this a little more fun-”
“-more fun then you getting tied up?”
His grin is predatory and sharp, “I don’t beg. Ever. For anyone.” He advances on you, “However, if you can make me beg in say...an hour, you win this little challenge and I’ll do whatever you want for a week.”
“You already do whatever I want, Bacara.” You point out.
“Unimportant.” He replies, “But when you lose-”
“-if. If I lose-”
His gaze locks with yours and his grin becomes even more predatory, “When you lose,” Bacara repeats, “I get two hours to make you beg for me, and when I win you’ll do whatever I want for a week.”
“Hold on now! How come you get two hours and I only get one?” You demand.
“Because I’m going to spend the first hour with my face buried in your pussy, that’s why.”
Your entire thought process screeches to a halt as your train of thought derails. “...oh.”
“So what do you say, city mouse? Do we have a deal?”
And, really, there’s only one thing you can say to that, “Deal.”
Bacara advances on you again, essentially crowding you, as he walks you through his home and into his bedroom. His eyes a glittering with arousal, but he doesn’t touch you, as much as you can tell that he wants to.
He kicks the bedroom door shut and turns on the lamp so there’s some light in the room, and then he folds his arms and waits.
You gaze at him thoughtfully, a small smile on your lips, “You’re wearing too much. Strip.”
His gaze is hot as it lingers on your face, “Yes ma’am,”
You consider watching him strip for a moment, but instead turn to the bed and start setting up the rope, while pulling out your phone to look up safe ways to tie him up.
“Alright,” You murmur to yourself as you make sure the ropes are secure around the bed frame, and you climb off the bed to focus your attention on him, “Pick a position that’s comfortable for you, Bacara.” You say as you carefully don’t take your eyes off his face.
“Not even gonna steal a peek, kitten?” Bacara asks, as he moves passed you and settles on the bed, with his back pressed against the headboard.
“I lady doesn’t peek, Bacara,” You sniff.
“Oh? Do they tie up their friends.”
“I can leave you know.”
He laughs and grabs your wrist to tug you onto the bed, you tumble against him, your hands settling on his shoulders, as he reaches around you to settle his hand on the back of your neck, “I want you to look, kitten. After all, I need to know if I meet your approval.” You have to shift to get more comfortable, eventually straddling his thigh so you’re not twisted uncomfortably.
You roll your eyes, but slowly drag your gaze down his chest, a nearly silent sigh of delight falling from you when you see that he’s still wearing his dog tags. Bacara chuckles lowly, and you hurriedly continue your visual perusal of the man beneath you.
He’s solid, your Bacara. Oh sure, he has a belly, but you’re pretty sure that he’s solid muscle, like the professional weight lifters you used to know in college. Big, beefy, and could lift you with one arm if he was so inclined.
Absently you trail your fingers down his chest, teasingly skirting around the nipple piercings, and down his stomach, and then your gaze lands on his cock.
Already erect and with precum leaking from the head.
He’s gorgeous.
But that’s not what catches your attention. No. What catches your attention is the golden piercings.
You blink at the piercings dumbly for a moment. “Holy shit Bacara.” You blurt, “Why didn’t you say that you had cock piercings?”
“Not really something that comes up in polite conversations,” He counters with a grin.
“But...If I had know then my-” You cut yourself off before you finish the thought, and you snap your gaze to his face, “Never mind.”
“Oh no, you definitely need to finish that thought, kitten.” Bacara practically purrs, “Come on, your what?”
“Nope. Not going there.” You shift your weight slightly, and reach down to grab his wrist, but Bacara doesn’t let you move it. “Really?”
He smirks, “Tell me, and I’ll let you tie me up.”
“Don’t you automatically lose if you don’t let me even try?” You try to bargain.
His smirk widens, “No, because I saw that look on your face. You want my face in your pussy.”
Damn him for being right.
“Fine,” You drag the word out, “I might have fantasized about you before. Maybe.”
He smirks smugly, “Knew it. Alright, you may continue.”
“I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to be the one in control right now.” You counter, even as you bring his hand to the headboard and carefully loop the rope around his wrist.
Bacara hums and his still free hand comes up to caress your hip, “Oh, kitten. I need you to understand that I’m letting you do this. But I need you to know that I’m the one in control here, not you.”
Your fingers slip on the rope, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that for the sake of the challenge.” You finally say once you finish with your knot, “How’s that? Too tight?”
Bacara tugs at the rope experimentally, “Good enough.” He finally says, as he lifts his other hand to the headboard.
You’re a lot faster this time, now that you know what you’re doing, and you sit back on your heels as you look at him. “I was right,” You finally say as you climb off of him so you’re able to peel your own clothes off.
“Bout what?” Bacara asks as he watches you strip with hungry eyes.
“That color does look amazing against your skin.”
He hums his understanding, tilting his head so he’s able to watch you push your shorts and panties down your legs. “I can just about guarantee that it’s going to look much better against yours.”
You set your clothes on a chair and climb on the end of the bed, settling yourself between his feet.
Bacara looks completely relaxed, and you’re beginning to accept that he was right, he is the one in control here, as much as it might seem like you are. “Just gonna sit there and stare at me, kitten?” He drawls.
“I’m thinking.”
“Do you need some direction?” He offers, “Because I can do that.”
“I’m not giving up yet, Bacara.” You counter as you slide up so that you’re better able to reach him, your fingers feather light as you glide them across his thigh.
His muscle twitches under your touch, “Yet, huh.” Bacara says with a small smirk, “Good to know.”
Finally fed up with his comments, you surge up and crash your lips against his. Your hands wander across his chest, lightly flicking his piercings, as you trail your tongue across his lower lip.
You’re almost surprised when he takes control of the kiss.
Almost.
He catches your lower lip between his teeth, and nips you roughly enough that a squeak falls from you. Bacara then soothes the sore spot with a lazy swipe of his tongue, and the moment you part your lips for him, his tongue slides against your own.
He maps out your mouth with a single minded intensity that leaves you moaning, and encourages you to straddle him again. When you break the kiss, you’re slightly breathless, and his gaze is dark as is slides across your face.
“You should give up, kitten.” Bacara purrs.
You shake your head, “I can still win.”
He laughs, “You’re already straddling me, and we haven’t done much more than kissing.”
“That-”
“I’ll make you feel so good, kitten.” He purrs as he tugs his wrist once, causing the knot to unravel. He presses his hand against the small of your back, and pulls you closer, and you shiver when you feel his hard erection pressed against you.
Unthinkingly, you grind against him, the head of his cock pressing deliciously against your clit and a moan fall from your lips as you do so.
His arm hooks tightly around your waist, and he pulls you closer so that he’s able to trail his lips against your throat, “Say you give up, kitten. And I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
Your lips turn down into a small pout.
“We can try this again later,” He promises, very temptingly, “After you’ve had some time to prepare properly.”
You peer at him, and then release a heavy sigh, and reach up to untie his other hand, “This isn’t me giving up.”
“Of course not.” Bacara agrees, suspiciously easily, “But, it is you forfeiting, which means it’s my turn.”
You squeak as he flips you so that you’re under him, smoothly using one hand to pin your hand over your head and tying them together and to the headboard.
Bemused, you tug on the ropes, but there’s no give whatsoever, “How-”
“Practice. I’ll teach you properly for next time.”
“...this game was designed for me to lose from the get go, wasn’t it.”
He grins and leans over you, his lips hovering just over yours, “Good girl, I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Not gonna deny that.” He replies before he kisses you deeply, but quickly.
And then he’s moving down your body, biting marks into the soft skin of your neck and throat, across your collar, and down your chest. You squirm and writhe under his attention, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.
He takes a quick moment to lavish your nipples with attention, before he’s moving again. At this, you’re unable to keep yourself from gasping out his name, and you feel his lips curl up into a smile against your breast.
Bacara litters your stomach and sides with possessive marks and then he leaves a trail of bite marks from your hip to your thighs. By this point, you’re a moaning mess, you don’t care if this means that he wins, you just don’t want him to stop.
And only then, when he’s sure that you’re covered in his marks, and when you’re whining for him, does he spread your legs to make room for himself between your thighs.
“Look at you,” Bacara praises lightly as he drags a single finger between your folds, a pleased smirk crossing his face as your hips twitch towards him, “You’re already wet. Do you have a biting kink, kitten?”
Your face burns at his words, and you stubbornly press your lips together to not say anything.
Bacara clicks his tongue, and his hand lands, heavily, on your outer thigh. It surprises you more than it hurts you, and you blink at him wide eyed, “I asked you a question.”
You know what he wants to hear. Even though you’re so horny that you almost can’t stand it. Even though his large, calloused finger is circling your clit in a way that is kind of driving you insane. You still know what he wants to hear.
What he’s expecting to hear.
Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips, and you plaster on your most innocent expression, “Did you?” You ask, slightly breathlessly as you clench around nothing from his teasing, “I wasn’t listening.”
Bacara stops. His fingers stop moving, and his hand, which was caressing your thigh and the red mark blooming there, stops moving as well. He searches your face for something, and then a slow smirk crosses his lips.
“Safe word or color?”
Your heart racing with excitement, you breath out, “Color.”
He hums, “What color are you?”
“Green.” You blurt, “Very green.”
For a moment, there’s a glimmer of something warm and soft on his handsome face, before it’s gone. “So, it sounds like you are able to listen.”
“When I want to.”
“Then it sounds like I just need to teach you that you need to listen to me, doesn’t it?”
You feel a thrill of delight, “If you ever said anything worth listening to-” You words get cut off with a ragged moan as he suddenly thrusts a finger into your pussy and curls it, almost instinctively finding the spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.
“I’m going to tell you how this is going to go,” Bacara says, a hint of promise in his voice, “I’m going to give you as many orgasms as I want, you are only allowed to cum when I allow it.” He eases his finger out of your pussy, and licks it clean with an appreciative hum, “And, if you don’t obey me, I’ll have to punish you.”
“Punish?” You ask.
He just smirks, “Do you understand? Answer verbally.”
“I understand,”
“Good girl,” He gives himself a couple of lazy strokes as he examines your splayed out body appreciatively. “I did say that I was going to bury my face in your pussy, didn’t I.” He muses, loud enough that you’re able to hear him, “But I don’t think you’ve earned that.”
That pulls an unhappy noise from your lips, and he chuckles, “Only good girls get to have their pussy eaten, and you haven’t been a good girl.” He releases your legs, letting them fall back to the bed, before he reaches up to check the ropes one more time, and then flips you, making sure that the ropes didn’t twist in such a way to hurt you. “There we go,” Bacara murmurs as he smooths his hand over your ass and then squeezes roughly
You squirm under him, but settle when you feel his hand press against your lower back. He quickly eases a pillow under your hips and adjusts your legs so that you’re spread wide for him.
He doesn’t touch you for a moment, though you can feel his heavy gaze dragging against you body. Just as you start to squirm, a little self conscious about being so exposed, his hands are on you again.
His hands are calloused and heavy on your body, and you’re sure you’re going to have bruises from his hands covering your body, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care as his hands press into you.
And then you don’t care about anything as the blunt head of his cock presses against you. Slowly he eases inch after inch inside you, and you’re squirming and whining before he’s even halfway sheathed.
The piercing feels amazing inside you, and you find yourself clenching around him.
Bacara groans and bites down on the back of your neck, “No cumming, kitten.” He warns as he slowly pushes the rest of the way in. As soon as he’s bottomed out, he presses a light kiss to the mark on the back of your neck.
He doesn’t move for a moment, and then he slowly eases out, until only the head of his cock is inside you. Bacara waits a beat, until you squirm to try and get him to move again, and then he thrusts in hard and fast.
He keeps the rapid pace, his breath hot against your ear, his hand fisted in your hair to keep your head down.
The sensations of his hand in your hair, and low groans in your ear, adding to the amazing feeling of his piercings dragging against your walls and the delicious stretch of his cock, are too much to handle.
And try as you might, you’re not able to keep yourself from cumming with a cry of his name.
You feel him laugh, “That’s punishment 1, kitten.”
“Not my fault-” You gasp, “Feels too good.”
“Oh? What’s that? Harder you said?” Bacara asks, as he adjusts himself slightly, before he leans in and catches your earlobe between his teeth. Before he does exactly as he warned, thrusting hard enough that you release a noise that is something between a moan and a sob of sheer pleasure.
“Good girl,” Bacara purrs, “You’re taking me so well.” He smooths his hand up your spine, “Such a willing little thing,” He coos in your ear, “I’m going to ruin you, kitten.” He catches your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue sliding against yours.
“Please,” You whisper, “Please ruin me.”
For half a moment, Bacara’s hips stutter, and he releases a deep groan. “Oh, princess. Gladly.” He pulls out completely, pulling a disapproving whine from your lips and then he flips you back onto your back, before he thrusts back into you hard and fast. “I’m going to stuff you full of my cum, princess.” He promises, “Over and over and over, until I’m good and done.”
“Cara-” You whine his name as you arch against him as best as you can.
“So, be my good girl and take all of me,” He orders as he leans in and catches your lips in a passionate kiss, “Be my good girl, and I’ll ruin you.” He promises, his gaze dark.
And, really, how can you do anything other than obey him after that promise.
#star wars#tcw#star wars au#commander bacara x reader#bacara x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#18+ fic#nsft
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Falling ; Hyunjin
M/N moves to a new apartment, but soon notices that weird things start to happen, and even more weird people began to appear in the apartment building
Warnings: Bad language, mentions blood
Genre: Fluff
Probably a part 1, but idk if I will ever write a part 2 😔🫶
===============
November 13, 9:20 AM
M/N sighed as he set his luggage down on the ground and pulled out his phone. He had to check if this was the right address before opening snapchat to check the pin code to the door. M/N typed the code in the tiny silver box and it made a ping sound before the door opened for itself. M/N took his suitcase and stepped into the building. The door closed behind him and based on the sound, it locked.
M/N walked to the reception and looked around to see if there was anyone to give him the key. He had found this apartment through some random person on snapchat. M/N was in need of a new place after his ex kicked M/N out of their "shared apartment". M/N wasn't even upset anymore about it.
Anyway, M/N was now pretty happy with his life. No disgusting and toxic partner, no annoying or bossy parents, no nothing. Just himself and no one to tell him what to do anymore.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by a man clearing his throat. The man has glasses with chains hanging from them. He is dressed rather fancily and he has black gloves on and some piercing eyes. M/N was pretty intimidated by his sharp eyes, but tried to not let it bother him. M/N saw a name tag on the mans clothing. 'Christopher Bang'.
"May I help you?" He asked and waved a hand in front of M/N's face to get his attention.
"Huh? Oh, yes. I need my apartments key. I was told that I could get it from you" M/N said politely and smiled softly. The man stared at him for a long time before turning to his computer "Name?" He asked "M/N L/N"
The man seemed to type something on his computer before nodding "Alright. Welcome to my building. Remember to behave well and have the best time living here" He announced as he gave the key to M/N. He thanked and took his suitcase and then left to find his apartment. He didn't have any furniture, but he was also told that it would be furnished already. M/N can just decorate on his own when he gets enough money to actually do so.
M/N found his apartment. "218" M/N said to himself and inserted the key in the keyhole. Suddenly someone grabbed M/N's arm, making him jump and drop the key accidentally "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I was on my way to go downstairs when I saw you. Are you a new neighbor? Or are you trying to rob this place? Where did you get a key? Is this an ambush? Are the aliens finally taking over the planet?? I knew it!" The man kept asking and rambling and M/N had no idea what was happening "I'm sorry, what?" M/N said and picked up the key.
"I'm Yang Jeongin" The man said and reached out his hand to shake M/N's hand. Before M/N even had the chance to shake Jeongin's hand, he had already pulled it away and began to talk at the speed of light again. M/N had no idea what he was saying so M/N just nodded along.
Jeongin began to walk away, probably downstairs as he said while talking to himself and M/N sighed in relief and opened his apartments door. He stepped in and closed the door behind him to prevent weird people like Jeongin getting in his apartment. M/N looked around and saw a tiny room that appeared to be a living room and a kitchen in the same room. M/N looked into another room and saw a small bedroom with a bed, bedside table and a closet. M/N found the bathroom and thought it looked pretty nice. M/N set his bag and suitcase down and sat on the couch. "Not bad." He thought.
M/N felt kinda hungry, but since he didn't have any food yet, he decided to set all his things down and try to find a store nearby where he could possibly get food from. He was hungry for some ramen and beef. M/N stood up and opened his suitcase. He left it open on his bed and quickly emptied his backpack that he was carrying around on his back all this time. He was planning on taking it with him so he doesn't have to carry the food he brings in his hands.
M/N took his key and left his apartment, making sure the door is locked firmly before leaving. As he walked to the elevator that he was now allowed to use due to actually living there, someone else walked in too. A man who was pretty short compared to M/N, but he looked buff. Probably goes to the gym. His height is somewhat ridiculous compared to M/N's. No doubt he could beat the shit out of M/N. "Why am I so interested in this strangers life? I have my own now. Focus, M/N" He thought to himself. The man looked at M/N.
"You're not from here, are you?" He asked and M/N got a bit straddled at the man speaking. Um, No. I'm from (choose a random place)" M/N answered quietly, hoping that this man wouldn't be as weird as the other one he met in the hallway. Jeongin, was it? Doesn't matter. "I'm Changbin" He said and shook M/N's hand in a friendly way. M/N was shocked that there was actually a normal human being in this place.
Of course this conversation didn't last long due to the elevator stopping at the second floor. "Why did it stop here? Is someone else coming here?" M/N thought. The elevator door opened and a silence fell over the whole elevator as a man stepped in. He was dressed like he would attend a traditional wedding soon. One problem, this man smelled like a corpse, and M/N had to hold his breath so he wouldn't gag, or even worse, puke from the smell. "Fucking hell" M/N thought but soon the elevator stopped at the first floor and M/N ran out the elevator as fast as possible.
November 13, 4:55 PM
M/N had finished eating his ramen and he had bought dessert from the store. He was now eating ice cream and watching TV from the small TV in the living room. M/N was caught up in a TV show so much that he didn't notice the time passing so quickly. It would soon be 5 PM and M/N hasn't even started unpacking his suitcase at all. M/N decided to turn off the TV and get to work. He stood up and went to his bedroom where he found his suitcase still open and all his clothes and some other stuff were still in place.
It took Johan an hour to unpack everything and it would take another hour for him to put the bed sheets on, organize his clothes in the closet and more stuff he has to do. M/N sighed and began to work.
~TIME SKIP~
M/N had fallen asleep at some point. He wasn't sure how or when but he found himself laying on the bed with a video playing on his phone next to him. It was some long stream where someone plays Minecraft. M/N wasn't sure who the streamer was, but he couldn't care any less than he already did. M/N yawned and looked at the time. 3:33 AM. M/N groaned in frustration, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get any sleep anymore.
He stood up and went to the kitchen and turned on the lights on the way there, not wanting to be in the darkness at this hour. M/N went to the window and was about to shut the blinds, when suddenly something caught his attention. A red haired man was seen from his window, and he was standing behind M/N. He got scared and quickly turned around, but saw nobody. M/N took a deep breath and quickly turned back around, not seeing the man in the window anymore either. M/N sighed, thinking it was his imagination.
He shut the blinds and went to the kitchen to get some water for himself, when he suddenly heard a loud noise coming from the hallway. He flinched and turned his head towards the door. He was now breathing heavier and he was more scared than ever.
M/N slowly approached the door and began to unlock it. M/N opened the door slowly, only to be met by something completely different than the place he remembered. The walls were twisted and painted with different colors, the floor was unstable and curvy and the doors were on the roof and on the walls upside down and even on the floor. M/N got scared, but decided to step out of his apartment.
November 15 8:35 AM
I haven't been sleeping nor eating. I don't what has happened. All I've been doing is stare at my hands that were covered in a red substance. I was crying, my hands shaking, my clothes dirty and stained with the red blood. My legs had given up on me, I couldn't stand even if I wanted to. I was breathing heavily and I could swear that I hear my breathing getting louder every second I take a deep breath. I looked away from my hands and at the floor. I wasn't in my apartment for sure. II looked around and saw a clock on the wall. There were no numbers on it, just a blank white clock that ticked louder and louder. I hear footsteps from behind me.
It was that same man from before. Changbin? Maybe. He stopped and stared at me. "Welcome. You are one of us now." He whispered before continuing to walk into the dark abyss. I wasn't sure what was at the other end of the long and dark hallway in font of me, but I didn't want to know. Some things are just better to remain unknown. I got up. With some power left in my body I began to walk to the other direction until I fell. I caught myself with my hands right before I hit the ground and then stood up, feeling a bit embarrassed, because the receptionist saw it. "Are you okay?" He asked, and I nodded.
The blood on my hands and clothes had vanished, but I wasn't wearing my clothes anymore. I was wearing fully white. It was a suit. I looked around and saw the same old lobby of my apartment building that I saw before when I came here in the first place.
I was thinking that I am going crazy. Until I saw the same red haired man. He was sitting still, eating an apple and just staring at me with empty eyes. I stared back, not knowing what else to do. He smiled and set his arms down and stood up, the apple falling from his hands and rolling down the stairs and stopping right in front of me.
The man began to walk down the stairs too and when I tried to back away, My back hit a wall that definitely wasn't this close to me before. I took a deep breath and got ready for anything that the man might do. But he didn't do anything bad, he just took the apple, blew on it and then ate more. He looked at me and smiled. "Are you the new one?" He asked with a hot and deep, sexy voice. I couldn't help but to nod only, my ability to speak long gone.
The man smiled and introduced himself. "My name is Hwang Hyunjin. Pleasure to meet you, M/N" He said and I was shocked. "How do you know my name?" I asked, a bit scared about the situation. "I know every little thing about you." He whispered and smiled mischievously. I felt something slip into my pocket and I reached my hand to get it. I took out a note and opened it. It said "Come to the roof tonight" And at the end of it was a winky face. I sighed and looked up, only to see the man being gone.
I was so confused. Where is the blood from earlier? Where are my keys? Where's my apartment? What is this place? Is this a dream or a reality? I didn't have answers to any of these questions and I felt frustrated by it. I looked at Christopher. The man from the reception. I walked to him "What is happening?" I yelled at him and took him by the collar. I felt an aggressive need to yell at something and he just looked like one to yell at. However, he just smiled and stood up, pushing my hands softly away "You're one of us now. You can't really explain it. You can't even begin to understand it yet." He said and smiled "Why can't I get out?" I asked and began to calm down
"You're not allowed to. He'll get mad if you try." Christopher explained and I was dumbfounded "He? Who's he?" I asked but Christopher shut down the reception and I got annoyed "What the hell".
November 15, 1.00 AM
I looked at the note that the red haired man had left me before. I looked at yhe staircase after. The staircase that would take me to the rooftop. I sigh and begin to walk up the stairs. I got to the door and sighed. I opened the door and saw the same red haired man standing at the edge. He seemed to be in his own thoughts. I decided to just look at him and not make a sound. Maybe I could get away from this. I thought that maybe I should just go until I heard him talk.
"Rude for you to not talk to me when you see me" He said and turned around. He walked to me and I looked up at him "What do you want me to do? This whole place is full of lunatics." I said annoyed and Hyunjin smiled "You've become one" He said and took my hand. "Let me show you something" Hyunjin added and began to walk at the edge of the building. I followed him and when we made it to the edge, I felt him pull me up on the railing. I got frightened and immediately tried to get down "This is dangerous!" I said and grasped his arm tightly, scared that if I let go i'll fall down. Hyunjin just chuckled and took a step forward. He didn't fall. He stayed floating. I look at Hyunjin and my eyes widen "H-How are you- w-what..." I look at Hyunjin and let out a scream as he pulled me with him. But I didn't fall either. I was floating. It felt so weird to stand without standing on anything literally.
"P-Put me down. This is so freaky" I said and tried to pull myself away from Hyunjin but he kept holding me close "You're special... You know that, right?" Hyunjin said and I looked up at him "What do you mean?" I asjed and looked up at him. That's when I saw him smiling. His smile is pretty but also kind of scary since he himself is pretty scary. I took a deep breath and looked ahead at the beautiful scenery of the city full of lights. People walking down at the ground in groups and some alone. It looked beautiful. I took in the scenery and then looked back at Hyunjin who still hasn't responded. Why am I special?
===============
#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#skz#stray kids#stray kids hyunjin#skz hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin stray kids#hyunjin skz#hyunjin x male reader#x male reader#fanfic#hyunjin ff#hyunjin fanfic#skz x male reader#stray kids x male reader#kpop#kpop x reader#kpop x male reader#male reader
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧/𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝
(This is just my opinion feel free to disagree but please be respectful!)
Rhaenyra Targaryen
Now in the modern day I feel like royalty wouldn’t be such a big thing for the Targaryen’s so like yeah they might have the biggest business that runs Westeros and it’s seven cities but no throne would be involved so basically her and her younger siblings would not really be rivals at all, she actually is quite fond of all four of them and has her own fashion line/ or I do see her building up her own business but I see Rhaenyra Targaryen the best dressed woman in Westeros since she was a child being a huge fashion icon and designer, now in modern day she of course would neither need Viserys to choose her husband so evidently I see her meeting Harwin when she has a drunken run in with the police when she is 19 and he takes her home instead of going down to the station so we have that, they get married a few years later and have exactly 6 kids, yup six with Jace, Luke, Joff, Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya. Now I see Rhaenyra being a cool mom like allowing the kids to have friends over she would provide the best snacks and order food, clothing wise I see her dressed in wine and crimson reds, black, and I see her in maroon/dark purples, she feels comfortable in pantsuits mostly she also enjoys braiding her silver long hair extravagantly and she is totally a sip on wine and charcuterie board girlie, she also owns this cute cat named Syrax who is spoiled and lazy but serves like her owner.
Aegon Targaryen
Now Aegon is nothing like in the show (because I say so!) but he is a little immature and he cannot be trusted with his adult money at all, like he will spend it all. Definitely has a man cave and his house/apartment gives off Ken’s mojo dojo casa energy, I don’t see much of a paternal bone in his body but he is great with the kids! (In his own way) and no incest here it is not normalized in the modern world(or at all but anyways) everything he wears is definitely brand named and he is a shoe head I purely believe that, drank a lot in college but went to rehab and got better, hasn’t touched a drink in forever, got himself a golden retriever rescue which he named Sunfyre. He has never had a serious relationship, he hasn’t tried to either so I believe in him somewhat.
Helaena Targaryen
She is like a modern Stevie Nicks/fairy aesthetic like girlie, she is also a single mom to three (no man deserves this perfect girl :( she definitely is a cool momma, she owns a doggy named Dreamfyre, Jaehaerys got his own pup which he named Shykros and Jaehaera is a little different and got a small lizard (Helaena is all for a bigger reptile but Haerys opposed and Alicent said she would no longer visit if a huge reptile was in their home) and Maelor got a kitten of his own (I cannot think of a name he would give it) I see hel wearing lots of blues and yellows, whites even and she definitely wears crystal rings/ jewelry in general, she also loves to use different colored eyeshadows and liner and it just gives her an ethereal look, definitely is her thing and all of Westeros tries it because of her<3 she loves insects and has cute little insect decor in her home like cute little embroided pieces and paintings, loves going to cute cafe’s and bakeries with her babies and taking nice pictures🩵 and def uses the blue heart emoji the most. Definitely closest to Rhaenyra and Aemond (also Daeron maybe) definitely owns her own little book/crystal shop where she sells all the best books, candles, trinkets, anything to do with crystals, knitted scarfs that are so cute, needle work and knitting supplies and it definitely gives off cottage/fairy/insect core
Aemond Targaryen
Definitely has a hair care routine, I said it, also all his clothing is dark colored, dark reds and greens, loads of black clothing and grey clothing too, definitely wears a good ol sneaker (Converse/Vans) mostly the classic black and white ones, owns doc martins for sure, was the top of his classes all throughout high-school, college, and university, wears rings and chains but not excessively, knows how to style himself correctly, will either be covered in tattoos or have discreet ones no in between! Definitely runs one of the fam businesses and that’s when Viserys sees all the potential he has. He has this dark kinda aura to him and also is very serious but a complete gentleman, he did lose his eye and yes to Luke but I headcannon that they played with the family heirloom dagger and when Luke was swinging it he sliced Aemond, the family kinda separated but Rhaenyra paid for all medical costs and even wanted to pay for a prosthetic eye (she did) it took a while for the family to go back to normal but it did happen. Definitely goes to the sept (equivalent to a church) with Alicent so she doesn’t go alone or feel alone but he isn’t too close with the faith anymore. I see him owning a Doberman or Great Dane named Vhagar. Adores his nieces, Visenya and Jaehaera are his biggest prides.
Daeron Targaryen
He is def the youngest like in his teen years, is a genius academically and socially can be a little clueless but he still gets it mostly, owns a beautiful dog named Tessarion. On the school soccer team for sure and he definitely has a job in retail with friends, definitely loves video games and would walk into the kitchen with his headset and controller in hand to get chips while Alicent tells him to wait until after dinner, has a entire closet dedicated to hoodies of all colors/brands. Closest with Hel, mommas boy 100%.
Alicent Hightower
Isn’t a sibling but she is mother! Now modern wise she isn’t as intense as in the show, obviously she doesn’t hate Rhaenyra either and no they were not friends she actually was a few (very few) years older than her when she married Viserys, she hates her husband though, her frontal lobe wasn’t even developed when she married him but she formed an unlikely alliance with Rhae, she is religious but not as much as in the show, she you know wears the seven pointed star and visits the septs, definitely is a queen at hosting events and holidays. Great at sowing and alternating clothes, does fundraisers and huge donations to charities also does charity for the sept, MILF! Oh I’m sorry what who said that 😏, is a fashion icon and dresses in greens/blacks/ even reds. Has the best hair in Westeros! And she wasn’t fond of animals but made a friend in Balerion the dog Viserys has but doesn’t take care of, he rests at her feet while she sews/reads, Also speaking of reading she loves classic literature, sips wine while she cooks and does yoga and meditation you cannot convince me that she doesn’t.
So these are pretty much headcannons I have for the modern Targ/towers and I will do a part two for Hels kids and Rhae’s kids including Baela and Rhaena, hope you all enjoyed this little blurb I put together 💗
@madame-fear a little first work 💗
#modern house of the dragon#modern au#rhaenyra targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#helaena targaryen#aemond targaryen#daeron targaryen#alicent hightower#hotd#house of the dragon
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Why did Solar have to die permanently while Eclipse gets to keep coming back over and over like freaking Megatron!?
anon you stirred an ancient ghost inside me with mention of megatron lmao /silly
but anyways - i think it became a running theme that Eclipse was gonna keep coming back like peepaw. But this time however there has been a big shift in his character, so the coming back from death thing has ultimately had a greater effect this time around than the last.
For starters, it's already been confirmed he is not really Eclipse. At least not the prior incarnations. He's a mimicry a different entity who carries only the fractured memories and directives of the ones who came before. The only thing that even really connects him to the Eclipse character beyond that is the fact his code was made from Solar's (who is also an Eclipse)
He is very much like Eclipse in personality for sure, unhinged and a complete asshole. But his unique circumstance, being brought so low that he truly is an inferior Eclipse, a false copy, and the fact he knows this has greatly altered his view on himself and his goals. He can say how he's superior to everyone all he wants but 1. no one cares anymore and 2. he knows it's a lie anyways.
But with Earth showing him genuine kindness and patience lately combined with the aforementiond, this has finally allowed him to actually open up a bit and maybe just maybe allow that sliver of a chance for redemption/to find a new purpose in life, even if that is away from the plex. I don't expect him to suddenly turn into a nice eclipse like Solar, in fact i would very much prefer for him to continue being a little asshole rat bastard /aff - but i do want him to be free of his past and find a new purpose, a new reason to live that isn't just antagonising others and hungering for power.
But i'm getting off track here-
We don't actually know if Solar will be dead permanently. It's been said already there is a way to bring him back but it would require sacrificing someone else, and not only that but their entire existence. My moneys on it being the creator ngl because as it stands he is pretty much unkillable. Using him as that sacrifice would be effective in removing him entirely but the only problem would be actually being able to go through with the plan because the brain's a tricky guy to pin down (plus i don't doubt Earth would be conflicted about it)
#questions and answers#Anon#sun and moon show#sams eclipse#sams solar#i have yet to watch the recent episode with earth and eclipse becoming friends (as the title says)#but! i do believe Earth will be key to Eclipse finally getting that redemption we've wanted for so long lmao#and as for Solar i do think he will be coming back but there will be a great cost to it#but again i'm of the belief the creator will be that sacrifice used#because it does make narrative sense#(then again the shows writing makes me have a bit of doubt there ngl gjfklgh)#but the only issue is again actually making him that sacrifice#because it ain't gonna be easy#also im writing this while recovering from fatigue so apologies if it doesnt make complete sense in some areas fjdg
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A lot of the time when I reblog jewellery on here, it’s art nouveau jewellery, because I really like art nouveau. In general, and in jewellery in particular. And most of that is the aesthetic. I like the natural forms, I like the twisty curly bits, I like the use of materials, I like how a lot of art nouveau jewellery is using metals and stones and other materials to create a specific form, an insect or a plant or a goddess or even sometimes nature scenes. I like …
I feel like a lot of the time with jewellery, it feels like ‘I’m going to use this object to show off the size and value of my pretty rock’. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Some of those rocks are indeed gorgeous. But art nouveau feels more ‘I’m going to use these pretty rocks, and several other things, to create the impact of this object’? I just love the use of materials, glass and enamel and colour, as well as precious stones and metals, to create a form or a scene.
Like, you get a diamond ring, it’s a diamond ring. But you get something like a dragonfly brooch (Louis Acoc):
Or a lilypad hair comb (Rene Lalique):
Or a wisteria branch (Georges Fouquet):
And it’s a whole creation. A little wearable piece of art.
And I don’t want to sound too dismissive. I know the craftmanship and skill and artistry that goes into any kind of jewellery making. That diamond ring took skill I will never have. I just.
I like the emphasis on form more than material that you get with art nouveau. Like normally you hear ‘glass jewellery’, ‘enamel jewellery’, and it’s cheap, it’s frowned upon, but in art nouveau it’s what that glass or enamel was used to make that’s the important part:
(Rene Lalique)
(Eugene Feuillatre)
Anyway. In summary, I really, really, really like art nouveau jewellery?
#art#jewellery#art nouveau#part of this is also that i just love glass as a material#and a lot of the 'cheaper' gems#but i would pay more for that dragonfly than for the largest gem in the world#if money was a thing i actually had anyway#opinions i have them
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the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.
capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.
now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.
and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.
and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.
and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".
it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"
#this was much longer i had to cut it down for legibility#but i do want to say i am aware this post doesnt touch on human rights violations as a result of fast fashion#that is because it deserves its own post with a completely different tone#i am an environmental educator#so that's what i know the most about. it wouldn't be appropriate of me to mention off-hand the real and legitimate suffering#that people are going through#without doing my research and providing real ways to help#this is a vent post about a thing i'm watching happen; not a call to action. it would be INCREDIBLY demeaning#to all those affected by the fast fashion industry to pretend that a post like this could speak to their suffering#unfortunately one of the horrible things about latestage capitalism as an activist is that SO many things are linked to this#and i WANT to talk about all of them but it would be a book in its own right. in fact there ARE books about each level of this#and i encourage you to seek them out and read them!!! i am not an expert on that i am just a person on tumblr doing my favorite activity#(complaining)#and it's like - this is the individual versus the industry problem again right because im blaming myself#for being an expert on environmental disaster (which is fucking important) but not knowing EVERYTHING about fast fashion#i'm blaming myself for not covering the many layers of this incredibly complicated problem im pointing out#rather than being like. yeah so actually the fault here lies with the billion dollar industries actually.#my failure to be able to condense an incredibly immense problem that is BOOK-LENGTH into a single text post that i post for free#is not in ANY fucking way the same amount of harm as. you know. the ACTUAL COMPANIES doing this ACTUAL THING for ACTUAL MONEY.#anyway im gonna go donate money while i'm thinking about it. maybe you can too. we can both just agree - well i fuckin tried didn't i#which is more than their CEOs can say
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hands you all this cal to announce i’ve FINALLY finished fallen order (by which i mean i finally picked it up again after those couple hours i played a few months ago and then finished the whole game in 2 days lol)
#cal kestis#bd 1#jedi fallen order#jfo#star wars#my doods#anyway HOLY CRAP YOU MEAN STAR WARS WAS ALLOWED TO BE GOOD BEFORE ANDOR (2022-)??????????????? AND I DIDNT KNOW??#i love cal i loved the story i love how cinematic and amazing it looked good lord#i don't think i've ever played a game which gets such an amazing sense of scale across#like all the great temples or fallen starships were just Wow#like bracca ALONE gobsmacked me. seeing all these things i grew up watching in tcw as wreckage was like Ough Wow and THEY FELT SO HUGE#im just. wow!!#and THAT FINAL MISSION HUH. MOST FEAR INSPIRING VIDEOGAME ENCOUNTER EVER#my only criticisms are the awkward navigation/ level design in some areas and maybe the ending felt a bit lackluster somehow#i say somehow bc i dont get how lol#the reason im making this post past midnight is bc i got off work at 10pm and then immediately had to finish it LOL#anyway big heart emojis im very happy i sat down and actually played it finally#i want jedi survivor now LOL unfortunately it costs money and i have a rule i never buy games in release year lol#tbh i never rlly buy games til they're £20 or less
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I JUST GOT MY NEW DEBIT CARD!!!!
FINANCIAL FREEDOM LET'S FUCKING GO!!!!!
#my dad almost saw it and i nearly had a stroke#bUT WE'RE GOOD ITS GOOD#HE DOESNT KNOW AND NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW AHAHAHAHA#i need a new wallet actually maybe that's what i'll spend my money on#and.. some other things ahem#ANYWAYS YEAH
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What would happen if once all strong forms of magic returned to equestria... something went... wrong.
What if... it brought with itself evils even beyond the threat Opaline could've ever imposed.
A disease that hundreds of years ago was already mysterious and forgotten.
Reawakened by all forms of magic bursting with power at the same time.
My Little Pony: Cutiemark Chaos
#mlp infection au#mlp g5#uhh... maybe don't expect me making a lot of this because well um... i am busy irl </3 and still sorta figuring out things for this small#fun project that i decided to start out of... seeing so many aus like this... honestly if i had a nickel for every au i made on a whim...#i'd have enough money for my actual life passion project lmao#anyways these aus are fun and i'm not... unknown to make pony body horror so um#hiii!#|| Cutiemark Chaos ||
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I think a lot of the Helluva Boss ship discourse would be more constructive if people could be normal about sex work for like 5 seconds
#Helluva Boss#Stolitz#helluva boss drama#I've seen so many posts saying that early Stolitz was coercive when it was really just sex work when you think about it#it's just that instead of getting money Blitz got to borrow the Grimoire#He really could have stopped at any time because I.M.P. had functioned before he had the Grimoire it wasn't his sole source of income#it was a transactional relationship at the start like a lot of relationships that demons would have#they're deal makers after all#anyway I don't think Helluva or Vivzie are the best things ever#in fact I'm working on a big critical post about Vivzie's handling of aspec characters#but I just wish that people could actually use their heads more when it came to common discourse
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