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#it puts everything in a new context when u go back and play the original version
michaeljoncarter · 1 month
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switching back to full release bg3 after finding a way to revert the game back to early access and playing on that version for a while & this is literally all i can think
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juyeonszn · 7 months
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POISON IN MY MIND
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PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader
WORD COUNT 5.54k
GENRES smut ﹒ some angst (but very little)
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, ceo/ceo’s son!hyunjae, assistant!reader, power play tbh, hyunjae is an asshole (for what he thinks is good reason), another jacob bae appearance, juyeon is also mentioned, there’s a rain scene bc i love my rain scenes <3, hyunjae is a stupid idiot, making out (aggressively), nipple play, no foreplay lol, unprotected sex, sex on a desk x2 — but one is missionary & one is doggy? style?, overstimulation, degradation, brat taming?, creampie lol, the aftercare is there i promise
SUMMARY who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss?
MORE HELLAURRRRR FAWNTOBER DAY 4!!! im hoping i have no delays with the rest of the fics but idk bc the burnout is starting to kick in….. someone pls help…. it’s bc my brain is making me write more than i planned 😭 anyways! pls reblog if u enjoyed!
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri
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“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”
“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”
Okay, let’s rewind for a bit of context.
Truly, you hated Lee Hyunjae. He was such a pretentious prick, always dead set on being right about everything. He couldn’t stand those who he felt were inferior to him, those who he thought were incompetent. If he felt you couldn’t do your job to his standards, he’d fire you on the spot.
Despite not being the CEO of the company himself, he practically carried all of the perks that came with the position. That was only because he was the actual CEO’s son and the future heir to the conglomerate his father owned.
You had the unfortunate pleasure of being his assistant, tied to doing his bidding until your contract with the company timed out. You originally applied for the job for two reasons. The first was due to the fact that you genuinely loved the initial purpose pushed forward by the CEO. He shared a lot of similar ideals with you and had spectacular visions for bettering the business world. The second was because at the time of your application, you wanted to be the CEO’s assistant. And that was what you’d gotten hired for.
It paid more than well enough and it was your dream job. You loved what you did for at least the first year and a half. Until he announced that he’d be retiring within the next couple years and his son would be taking over as a form of practice for being in charge when he inherited the entire conglomerate.
You’d never met him in person before, only hearing the high praises Mr. Lee had for his precious son. So on his first day, you had extremely raised expectations for the male. You dressed your best (not that you didn’t put effort in before) and put on your sweetest personality, wanting to make a good impression on your new boss.
Imagine the disappointment you felt when you realized he was nothing but an entitled asshole.
He made you feel stupid, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. What started as sitting in on important meetings and going over different documents with Mr. Lee, turned into running errands for Hyunjae and cleaning up his messes. If you weren’t out buying his coffee or grabbing his dry cleaning, you were sorting his paperwork for him and making sure he was prepared for his upcoming conferences, as if he wasn’t capable of doing so himself. You felt like a fucking babysitter rather than an assistant; like an errand boy rather than an employee.
You were so incredibly tired and it had only been four months. A few, tortuous months of you being treated like you hadn’t already given an arm and a leg for this company. Half of you wanted to just throw in the towel, rip up the damn contract right in front of the fucker and walk out of those gold plated double doors for good.
“Just push through, Y/N,” Jacob sighs over the video call. “Your contract ends at the end of the year, and if you still feel like quitting, then that’s that. You don’t have to worry about renewing or trying to reinstate your job.”
You were on your lunch break, holed away in one of the many unused conference rooms on the top floor. Hyunjae was being extra irritating today and if you didn’t speak with a voice of reason, you thought you’d make a drastic decision that would alter the course of your life forever. Whether that was tossing your employee contract in the shredder, or committing premeditated murder, the world may never know. Shout out to Jacob Bae.
“What if I push him out of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office? I could make it look like an accident. Everyone would probably rejoice instead of mourning him, because we would all be so much happier.” You throw the back of your hand over your forehead. Well, that answers that.
“You’re not killing anyone. If you got caught, you wouldn’t look good in a prison jumpsuit. Orange isn’t your color.” Jacob shakes his head, rolling his eyes playfully.
You gasp scandalously, sitting upright to gape at him. “What the hell? Yes, I so would! I would make that prison jumpsuit my bitch—“
Someone clears their throat behind you, causing you to flinch, whipping around in your swivel chair to find the culprit. When it’s none other than Lee Hyunjae staring back at you, you feel like your life has just flashed before your eyes. You wonder just how much of that conversation he heard before making his presence known.
“Um, Cobie, I’m gonna have to call you back…” You don’t allow your friend time to respond, ending the call before he can incriminate you more than you already have.
Hyunjae leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his absurdly broad chest. Did this guy have to wear the tightest dress shirts possible? Maybe it was time for him to update his wardrobe. You tuck your hair behind your ear, slowly standing up from the chair. His expression is unreadable, not that you ever had it easy when it came to understanding the many faces of Lee Hyunjae.
“Mr. Lee, what— uh— what can I do for you?” You ask with a slight waver in your tone. So much for not incriminating yourself. He purses his lips, taking a step closer to you.
“Juyeon can no longer accompany me on the trip to Tokyo next week. Which means you’re second on the totem pole,” he says simply, loosening his tie. “Better pack your bags, ‘cause I’m not taking no for an answer.”
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This was horrible.
You were mentally cursing Lee Juyeon over and over. Why did he have to back out at the last minute? This was the one part of the job that you couldn’t allow yourself to do. You’d much rather drive in circles around Seoul and grab iced Americanos than be in a completely different country, with no other company aside from Lee Hyunjae himself.
When he gave you your demise, you immediately tried to get out of it. Your excuse was valid; you didn’t have a passport and that’s kind of essential when traveling to another country. But even then, it wasn’t enough to get you out of this predicament. Being the rich, influential man he was, Hyunjae had your passport expedited and sent to your mailbox within a couple days. You gave up after that.
There was nothing he couldn’t do.
Except maybe being tolerable. You think that was most likely his only fault. He could’ve been the complete package had he mastered the art of bedside manner. His father was one of the kindest, selfless men you’d ever met. You were often curious why those same traits didn’t translate to his son. Then again, he had probably been raised as a spoiled brat who got everything his heart desired.
To make matters worse, you had one of those suites with a Jack and Jill bathroom, meaning he could enter yours without difficulty if he wanted. You supposed that was because the rooms were reserved with him and Juyeon in mind. Perhaps the case would be different if you were the first pick for this trip.
You let out a deep exhale, waiting outside of the conference room that Hyunjae was currently in. This was meeting number seven, and the last of the day before you could finally go back to the hotel and relax. You’d be flying back to South Korea the following day on the Lees’ private jet. All of your time in Japan had been spent both sitting in and sitting out of board meetings, so much talk about business plans that you felt dizzy.
All you yearned for was a nice warm bath and some room service, wanting to call it an early night because of your flight in the morning. You were exhausted, eyes growing heavier and heavier the longer Hyunjae sat in that room full of old men that came from bloodlines of money. Even though it was your job to be here, you felt so out of place. There were moments you found yourself contemplating your career path. You were surrounded by people who could just sign a check to get rid of their life problems. That wasn’t you.
Before you can fall down a rabbit hole, the door to the conference room is swinging open and Hyunjae is storming out, some of the other board members calling after him. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows furrow, your body springing up to follow after him. Wearing some flats instead of heels was probably the smartest choice you’d made today, making it less of a struggle to chase after your boss.
“Mr. Lee!” You cup a hand around your mouth, trailing him like a lost puppy to the elevator. It closes before you can get on and you groan, running a hand through your hair frustratedly. As you wait for the next one down, you call the driver so the car is waiting out front. According to the recent weather notification on your phone, it was pouring outside.
The elevator dings when it arrives back at the floor you were on and you hurry to get on, pressing the lobby level aggressively in hopes it would move faster. Even the soothing music playing over the speakers isn’t enough to calm your nerves, picking at your nails as the numbers transition to the corresponding floors you pass. This was one of the numerous occasions you wished your boss wasn’t so impulsive. What did they even say to him in that meeting to cause such a reaction?
The doors open and you’re rushing out, frantically searching for Hyunjae in the lobby. You spot the driver parked under the carport, waiting. Your feet carry you to the car, knocking on the window to get his attention. He rolls it down with a confused look.
“Have you seen Mr. Lee?” You ask, a bit winded by all of the running you’d been doing.
“I thought I saw him walk that way,” he points ahead, though it hardly answers your question. “I didn’t realize you weren’t with him.”
Just fucking peachy. He was making you chase him into the rain now? You needed a pay raise.
Thankfully, it’s a breeze to spot him, since he’s the only person in the crowd without an umbrella. You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing yourself to walk out into the cold rain, weaving through pedestrians to get to him faster. He’s not much further from you, but you’d rather drag his ass back to the car sooner rather than later, the precipitation seeping through your dress shirt and pants, chilling you to the bone.
“Mr. Lee!”
You reach for his wrist and wrap your fingers around it, yanking slightly to yield his focus. He turns around with hardened features, but they soften just enough for you to notice when he realizes that it’s you. Your lips form a flat line, eyelashes coated with a mixture of mascara and rain water, obscuring your vision.
“I don’t know what happened in there, but I don’t have it in me to ask. Please, can we just go back to the hotel?” You ask almost desperately, teeth beginning to chatter. He frowns, but nods nonetheless, letting you pull him to the safety of the carport— where you’re free from the unrelenting pelts against your body— and into the car.
You don’t say anything the whole drive to the hotel you’re staying at, biting your tongue because you were afraid you might blow up on him over his stupidity and get yourself fired. Your bottom lip quivers and you hug yourself for warmth, the car’s heater failing to bring back the color in your cheeks. In spite of hating nearly everything about him, you thought the one good thing Hyunjae had going for him was his wits. He might’ve been stuck up, but he was smart as hell. Except right now. In your books, he was the biggest idiot in the history of idiots.
The silence continues even after you’ve arrived at your hotel, shadowing you into the elevator and to your respective rooms. You don’t acknowledge him, unlocking your suite and entering to avoid any conversation. The remainder of your energy for the day was used when you were attempting to save him from getting fucking hypothermia.
You stand in the shower until your fingers have pruned, resting your forehead against the frosted glass as the scorching water battered your back, easing the tension in your muscles. While changing into your pajamas, your phone buzzes with a text message.
[9:23pm] mr. lee (DNI): i don’t know if u’ve eaten already, but i ordered a lot of food if u’d like to have some of it.
[9:24pm] mr. lee (DNI): left my bathroom door unlocked so u can just let urself in
Your lips purse as you mull over his offer. It wasn’t exactly an olive branch, but even if it was, you wouldn’t take it as such. You had too much pride for that. Instead you viewed this as him just feeling guilty for having you pursue him in the rain. That was definitely not in your job description. Perhaps he wasn’t as heartless as he made himself out to be, and he just didn’t know how to extend an apology without being awkward about it.
Reluctantly, you give in.
[9:27pm] you: sure. be right there
You slide your feet into your slippers and shuffle through the four doors between the two of you that lead to his suite. It takes everything in you to not visibly react to the difference between your rooms. His is so much more spacious, with enough room for a table and couches, aside from the usual desk. Even he looks expensive, a silk pajama set adorning his body— the first few buttons undone to give you a glimpse of his chest, though it hardly leaves room for the imagination.
Hyunjae sits at the table, various sushi roll platters in front of him. He holds up his chopsticks as he scrolls through his phone mindlessly, glancing up when your slippers shuffle against the floor. He takes in your appearance as quickly as he can without making it obvious, the corner of his lips curling up when he sees the teddy bears on your feet.
“You know, I didn’t think you’d come,” he starts after a few minutes of eating in an awkward quietness. “Not just here, to my room, but on the trip in general. I thought you’d put up a bigger fight to get out of it.”
“It’s part of my job, Mr. Lee.” You say flatly, taking away as much emotion from the statement as you could to avoid getting in an unnecessary argument.
“We’re not at work and it’s outside of working hours, Y/N. You can call me Hyunjae.” He tries to meet your eyes but they’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, legs criss-crossed on your seat.
“Why do you go by Hyunjae?” You decide to ask, glancing up at him finally. “Your dad said your birth name was Jaehyun.”
“I don’t remember when exactly it was, but when I was in grade school, a classmate called me Hyunjae by accident and it just stuck. I’ve never really liked the name Jaehyun, if I’m being honest. It was a common name, and well, you of all people should know that I’m all about my individuality.” He leans back in his chair a bit, folding his arms over his chest. You ignore how it makes his pectorals squish together. God, you were no better than man…
“Is that why you’re nothing like your father?” You don’t mean to say that out loud. The thought popped into your head, as it always does, and for some reason this time it just shimmies its way through your mouth. You press your lips together, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden tension that arises in the room.
“I’m well aware of what you think of me, Y/N,” he chides, tapping his fingers against his biceps. “You may think you’re good at hiding it, but I’m very perceptive. And I also overheard that conversation with your friend— the one where you were plotting my assassination and whatnot.”
“Are you open to rebuttal?” Perhaps you should just stop talking, maybe pause the hole you were digging yourself into. Did you want to keep your job? Sure this was all off the record, but be fucking for real, it was Hyunjae you were speaking with.
He shrugs. “Shoot. Let’s hear it.”
“You’re kind of a narcissist,” you kick off strong, hitting him right where you think it may hurt. “You don’t take in the consideration of others, and you always have to be correct. If someone even slightly disagrees with you, you lose your shit. You’re condescending, you’re a perfectionist, you’re hot headed, and after the stunt you pulled today, you’ve exhibited that you’re also really fucking irrational. I’ve done so much in the time I’ve been with the company prior to you, I’ve given so much of myself for the improvement that your father was aiming for and you took all that hard work and crushed it between your fingers, just to have me running around like I’m your maid.”
Hyunjae wears an amused smirk on his lips, like he couldn’t be bothered with your grievances. Your eye practically twitches, irritation boiling up like water ready for a pasta dinner. You stab your chopsticks into a piece of sushi with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re cute when you get worked up,” he hums, carding a hand through his hair. “I almost want to keep my thoughts to myself.”
You choke on your saliva, smacking yourself on the chest to regain control of your breathing. Whatever you were expecting him to say wasn’t that. Should he even be calling you that? He was your boss. Not just that, but you sort of hated everything there was to hate about him. The tiny compliment shouldn’t make both of your heartbeats quicken.
“W-What are you talking about?”
Hyunjae stands from his chair, walking around the table to sit on the edge of the desk in the room, not much further away but enough distance to keep you calm. He rolls his neck, scratching at the nape to relieve some of the awkwardness seeping into the suite. “My father has done nothing but sing your praises since he hired you. I know how capable you are of this job, Y/N. I know that you’ve accomplished more than individuals who have been with the company even longer than you. Trust me, I know.”
“Then why do you discard me the way you do? Why do you treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” This time you don’t stop the emotions from creeping beneath your words, your voice cracking just slightly. If Hyunjae heard, he makes no effort to show it.
“Because, I had to keep myself as far from you as possible,” he admits, finally making eye contact. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I was fucked. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you and as your boss, I couldn’t do that. As my father’s son, I couldn’t do that. So I resorted to the next best thing, making you hate me and having you do shitty side tasks to separate myself from you. I thought, ‘If she thinks I’m the worst boss ever, she’ll want nothing to do with me’. And that’s exactly what my goal was. But now you’re here in Tokyo, alone with me in my hotel room and I’m starting to rethink that decision.”
You stare at him— mouth agape, heart in your throat. Once upon a time, you believed Lee Hyunjae was one of the brightest, smartest businessmen of your generation. It seemed that he just wanted to go and prove you wrong on that today, in multiple instances. How could someone be so fucking stupid? You were genuinely curious what went through his head.
“You’re unbelievable,” you scoff, a laugh devoid of humor sneaking in along with it as you stand from your own chair. “Actually unbelievable. What made you think that was a good idea? You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough to be in this position because you didn’t think you could keep it in your pants around me?”
And just as you’re about to leave, he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you. You were getting a weird sense of déjà vu. He pulls you into his chest, your body sandwiched between his legs as he holds you close to him. Your eyes are wide and your lips are parted. (Though you don’t know if it’s out of shock, sudden arousal, or both.)
In this proximity, you can see every small detail of his face. From the freckle on the bridge of his nose to the thick eyelashes framing dark eyes to the softness of his lips. You’ve never had the opportunity to properly look at Hyunjae, always too pissed off to even be within ten feet of him. But standing here— face-to-face, eye-to-eye— you’re starting to wish the object of your hatred and many complaints wasn't so handsome.
“If you push me away now, I’ll leave you alone forever,” he breathes, hands fisting the material of your pajama top, as if that would ground him. “If you tell me there’s absolutely no possibility of you wanting me back, I’ll let you go back to your room like none of this happened.”
You don’t respond. The words are right there. They’re perched on the tip of your tongue, just anticipating to climb out of your mouth and put him in his place. It’s been months of constantly feeling like you were meaningless to the company you’ve given so many sleepless nights to— months of second guessing just how much you’ve actually contributed. But with one glance down to your lips with eyes resembling the night sky, Hyunjae has managed to wipe all of that from your memory.
So instead of turning around— instead of walking through the four doors that divide your hotel rooms— you stay planted between his thighs, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling his lips onto your own.
He groans into the kiss, tightening his grip on your shirt and bringing you closer to him. You feel him against your stomach, hard and ready for you, ready for any contact you’re willing to give him. It’s so much and too little at the same time, fingers slipping beneath your top and searing your skin.
He nips at your bottom lip, as if asking for permission to permeate your mouth with his tongue. You welcome the wet muscle with gratitude, moaning when it tangles with yours. The blunt edges of his nails dig into your lower back when the sound hits his ears. You tug at the hairs on the base of his neck, one hand sliding down the front of his body to feel him up.
Through the thin silk of his pajamas you can make out the outline of his sculpted torso. If Hyunjae was more coherent and less intoxicated by your lips on his, he’d tease you for your desperation. But because he's neither of those, he, too, finds himself clawing at every bit of fabric of your clothing he can, longing to touch anything he can get his hands on. You feel drunk, and you wonder if he makes you feel like this with his lips alone, what else can he do?
The straps of your top fall off your shoulders the longer you stand there, making out like it was second nature to both of you. When you take a step back to catch your breath, lips swollen and glistening with a mixture of both yours and his saliva. Your chests are heaving up and down, foreheads resting on the other’s.
“Can I take that as a yes?” Hyunjae rasps, pushing your straps further down your arms. You whine, connecting your mouths again. This was embarrassing enough, you didn’t want to have to say the words out loud. Saying it out loud made this real, and you didn’t want to accept the fact that you were about to fuck your boss.
He chuckles against your lips, undoing the buttons of his shirt without parting from your kiss. You help him toss it somewhere in the room, your hands groping his arms and squeezing his biceps. He spins the two of you around so you’re the one with the edge of the desk on your back. His arms hook under your thighs, placing you on the surface so it’s less strain on his neck as he leans down.
You instinctively spread your legs to make room for him, throwing your head back with a drawn out sigh when he presses two fingers to your core. Even with your panties and your flimsy pajama shorts in the way, the pressure relieves some of the ache you feel in your gut. Your top slips off enough that your bare breasts are now on full display for Hyunjae. He keeps circling your clit through your clothes, mouth enveloping one of your peaked nipples and tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.
“C-Can’t hold on anymore,” you whimper. “Need to cum on your cock.”
Something shifts in Hyunjae when he hears you beg. You’d always been so set in stone when it came to standing your ground, so for you to surrender yourself to him, in spite of reiterating how much you despise him, it did a number on his sanity. You have no idea what you’ve just done to him.
“No foreplay? Think you can handle it, sweetheart?” He goads, but his fingers dip into the waistband of both your underwear and your shorts to pull them down your legs anyway.
“You’re talking a whole lot for someone who’s still wearing their pants.” You bite back, but almost immediately retract your words when he rids them, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. No fucking wonder you could feel him so much.
He’s huge, like so huge you kind of regret skipping the foreplay. But it was too late to go back now, your pride as big as his dick. One of your hands reaches to wrap around his length, your teeth finding purchase on your lip as you stroke him gently. Every pulse and every vein beneath your touch has you curling your toes in excitement. He hisses when your thumb swipes over his tip, collecting the precum that’s formed there.
Hyunjae drags you closer to the edge, prying your legs wider so he fits perfectly between them. You guide him to your entrance, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses into you. He’s not even fully sheathed inside of you, but the stretch is so fucking delicious, stinging just enough that it provides pleasure rather than pain. He pulls out to drive back in and repeats, a little deeper each time he does.
When he bottoms out, his hips snap into yours, large hands keeping your thighs apart as he begins to thrust into you. His cock is snug within your warm walls, kissing so deep inside that you start to see stars well before the coil in your abdomen has begun to wind up. The noises leaving your mouth are insane, loud and echoing throughout the hotel room. It made shame bubble up in your chest, because why couldn’t your detestation overpower the urge to crumble at his fingertips?
“Fuck you’re so tight,” Hyunjae groans, eyes concentrated on where his cock slips in and out of you. “You needed this, huh? Needed me to fuck you real good? Like a filthy slut?”
You’ve never thought you’d be into degradation. In fact, a man calling you demeaning names actually pissed you off. So you felt like you’d end up picking a fight if ever in the situation where someone tried to degrade you. However, the words falling from Hyunjae’s lips have the opposite effect on you. They have you clenching around him and mewling like a goddamn pornstar.
His pace is relentless, inching you closer and closer to your breaking point. He lays you flat on the desk, one hand gripping your hip and the other sneaking to your clit. His thumb rubs ovular motions into the engorged skin, his body folding over yours to capture your lips with his. He swallows your cries when your climax washes over you suddenly, your walls fluttering around his cock.
Hyunjae pulls out before he can follow suit, flipping you onto your stomach like you were a fucking pancake. He bends you over the edge of the desk as his thumb continues to circle your clit slowly, languidly just to ride out your high. He propels forward, his dick still so hard as it breaches your hole once again. He curses, extra sensitive after depriving himself of his own orgasm.
You push back on him, wanting to feel him even deeper. Your whole body burns beneath him, his chest slick with sweat as it presses you flat to the desk. You need him everywhere, God you want him everywhere. It’s not enough to have him buried inside of you. You need to be one with him; one body, one mind, one soul. You need him filling your senses— blinding your sight, obstructing your scent, stealing your touch, invading your taste, muting your hearing.
Okay, now let’s resume.
“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”
“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”
“Yeah? I’m sure you do. You hate me so much, yet you want me to fuck you full of my cum, don’t you? Gonna let me finish inside you?” His voice is exerted, and you can tell he’s close. But you are too, so you’re not above pleading for your sweet release. Not when it rewards you so well.
“Mhm,” you whimper, cheek smushed to the surface under you. “Please, Jae… Need it so— oh my god— need it s-o bad.”
Hyunjae hikes one of your knees onto the desk, allowing him to plunge extensively. Your clit bumps the edge, that coil in your stomach fracturing little by little until it’s busted completely and you’re a babbling, incomprehensible mess. The sight of you fucked absolutely stupid tips Hyunjae into his own spiral, painting your velvety walls with thick ropes of his cum. He lets his forehead fall on your shoulder, rocking into you with delayed groans as he spills all he has to offer you. It’s so much that even his cock plugging you up isn’t sufficient to keep it from dribbling along your thighs.
You’re both too winded to move, much less fathom what just happened. You feel him panting on your back, eyes shut as you also attempt to regain your bearings. Where the hell do you go from here?
“H-Hyunjae…” You wince when he stirs inside of you. “Can— uh— can you pull out?”
He grunts as he carefully does what you’ve asked, running a hand down his face when more of his release trickles out of you. He knew you couldn’t afford another round. Just by looking at you he can see how spent you are. What you needed was another bath and some good rest. Without skipping a beat, he reaches out to tuck some strands of your hair that were stuck to your face behind your ear, wiping away the sweat that glued itself there.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, grasping your hands and caressing the backs with his thumbs. “But that can wait until tomorrow. For now, just let me take care of you, okay?”
“Okay.” You agree, tone no more voluminous than a whisper.
You did have a lot to discuss pertaining to tonight, but that wasn’t a priority at the moment. Who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss? All you could focus on was how gentle his fingers were as he washed your body for you, massaging your muscles so delicately you might as well have melted in the palms of his hands. And all you could pay attention to was the hushed sound of his voice as he kissed your temple and lulled you to sleep, within the comfort of his arms.
Yeah. You could revisit the whole Lee Hyunjae hatred train another day.
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lilflowerpot · 9 months
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hello again~
I'm here to ask a question about LoZ. so, I have a friend who plays and recommended it to me because she knows I love open world games and breath of the wild is (apparently) one of the best open world games ever and I've been hesitating ever since. she might be a little biased tho lol
and like. there's a sale going on right now for botw, so the recommendation just kind made itself known in my memory again
anyway so, basically I'm here to ask if it'll be worth it? I mean, the general consensus wherever I go seems to be 'amazing, go get it u won't regret it'
(and, this is totally optional, but if you could answer asap that would be great because idk when the sale ends, thank you)
p.s I love little blade. you're amazing
I think it's obvious by now that I am a //massive// Zelda fan so tbh I'm likely no less bias than your friend lmfao, but that being said I'm going to try and give as balanced a response as possible!
Pros
BotW is beautiful, and I mean b e a u t i f u l . The graphics have this lovely watercolour quality to them as an ode to the artstyle used in Skyward Sword, but more crisp & refined. Unlike a lot of the big open world games (looking at you skyrim) BotW doesn't sacrifice colour or try to be "gritty", but rather leans into that soft-apocalypse, studio ghibli vibe.
The narrative is equally lovely and fulfilling, and depending upon what order you collect Link's memories in you will likely have a different gameplay experience. You'll also meet a lovable cast of characters to whom you'll end up unreasonably attached, which will ultimately break your heart in the end,,, I apologise in advance, but I promise you it's worth the pain.
On that note, do it for my bitch-ass bird son. You'll know him when you meet him.
Link can jump. This will mean very little to you if you've not played a LoZ game before, but my boy can fucking JUMP.
You can also climb pretty much everything (bar like one specific material) which means if you want to get to that Cool Thing Over There, then with a mix of mix of ungodly arrogance, sheer willpower, and a lot of stamina potions, you can. If you suffer from the magpie brain (ie. you see a new shiny thing and become immediately sidetracked from your original objective) this will mean that you take about 10x as long as you should to do literally anything, but my god is it fun.
The soundtrack gives me feelings that I cannot put into words, and the voice acting is //phenomenal//. Importantly, Link himself does not have a voice actor which is the only correct choice considering he's been heavily implied throughout the entire LoZ franchise to be an elective mute, and I would have //hated// hearing him speak.
Link is also just a very sweet & funny golden retriever boy who occasionally sasses back like nobody's business. 10/10 protagonist.
If you like women, you will like them even more by the end. If you don't like women, there's a 90% chance you'll seriously reconsider it upon meeting [REDACTED].
The game has something for everyone: you like exploring? Well you're going to do a lot of that. You like collectables? There are so many outfits (that you can dye to your liking!) and a wholeass compendium to fill out. You like puzzles? You'll certainly find your fair share. You like combat? The basic mechanics are what you'd expect with there are enough different enemy types to keep it interesting, but dO NOT FIGHT A LYNEL WITHOUT MAKING SURE YOU HAVE ENOUGH WEAPONS BC THEY WILL BREAK AND LEAVE YOU WITH A VERY ANGRY VERY MEAN MAN TRYING TO KILL YOU.
It is genuinely very good value for money, and even more so if you can get it on sale! Not only do you have the mainline game & all its side-quests, but there's also the expansion pass, and, of course, an entire sequel just ready and waiting!
Cons
Sometimes the open world can feel a little too open. Considering the game's context, it makes sense, but comparatively games like Skyrim feel more densely packed with Things To Do, whereas BotW has several areas of overgrown nothingness that are lovely to look at, but not especially interesting (though this is better rectified in TotK).
You can't swim underwater. This was not rectified in TotK, though I dearly wish it had been.
A lot of fans used to complain about the temple format of p much every Zelda game up until this point, so the developers essentially removed temples altogether and instead replaced them with only four (technically optional) Divine Beasts, plus Hyrule Castle itself. I... did not like this. I'm a big puzzle girlie, and though BotW has shrines scattered across the landscape—most of which are puzzle-based—I personally felt that this substitute was lacking in comparison to the original. TotK does improve on this by reintroducing temples, but I still could have gone for a few more (Skyward Sword was the opposite of this, with very linear gameplay which a lot of people hated, but I personally will stand by SS's Ancient Cistern until my dying breath, and Twilight Princess had some really innovative temples that I have replayed several times over).
On a semi-adjacent note, the final boss just... wasn't my favourite. That's not to say it was bad, only as boss fights go I've had better (I did, however, like the final segment of that fight).
You will develop an immediate fear response to the Guardian music.
Ultimately though, I absolutely do think you should buy it, and am jealous that you'll get to have that bright-eyed bushy-tailed first-time experience, because believe me, if I could erase my memories and play BotW all over again, I would.
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starboltprojects · 3 years
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This is a new non-profit game guide for the Wii U game - Xenoblade Chronicles X. It concluded work a week or so ago, and most of the information inside is new to the internet. And I’m the author.
So, to anybody who knows me from university or elsewhere, my last five months after my Masters finished (more like mid-August to September, then late September to Mid-December, then mid-January to Present), have been spent in the darkest depths of a JRPG datamine, checking through hundreds of columns in tables like these.
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Definitely not the natural environment of a perceived 3D artist, yet I’ve been attacking it with the same kind of fervor that created my first transformer.
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Lots of underscores and numerical references in need of interpretation, which I was constantly hopping back and forth between tables for. Needless to say, I’ve learned a thing or too about dev commons cataloguing convention. I can imagine my programming lecturers back at Staffs can appreciate what it’s like going through these kinds of tables, and would probably chuckle when I say my head was down in these for about three full months.
Xenoblade Chronicles X (Wii U) - Monolith Soft, is the same game which my INFERNO Skell 3D piece came from. It’s a game I’m intimate with, and for a Wii U JRPG, it's renowned for being a technical marvel, fitting a seamless open world, larger than the one in Breath of the Wild and as dramatic as Avatar’s Pandora, onto the Wii U hardware.
It’s also dense, brimming with micro-management philosophy, augmentation for every possible battle tactic, and featuring over 100 different kinds of fantastic enemies to fight. But at the time of delving into this datamine, big pieces of information about the creatures’ capabilities were simply not covered. You couldn’t pick up a guide or the in-game enemy index and find anything useful about them to help you plan a fight. And without that intimate knowledge, battles just devolve into damage sinks. 
And this became the topic of my digging. I’ve played the game twice and run up against walls I couldn’t beat on both playthroughs. I refused to go to the effort of customising a build to beat tougher enemies without having all of the information I needed, and while plenty of guides exist on builds and gear, none exist for enemies, and the game’s in-built enemy index is functionally useless. I wanted to make my own enemy dex for Xenoblade, like the pokedex in Pokemon, so I could arm myself with that sense of knowledge and control. 
But it goes deeper than just personal peace of mind. There’s a let’s player I follow - Chuggaaconroy, who’s known for in-depth let’s plays of games covering everything a game offers, particular JRPGs, who loves Xenoblade Chronicles. I was anticipating, and had seen evidence of, a let’s play of Xenoblade Chronicles X being planned by him. I wanted to see him NAIL this game, expose it for all of its richness and, knowing his calibre and the herculean task it would be to apply it to XCX, I became an editor on the game’s wiki in 2018 and reached out to Emile (Chuggaaconroy), asking to help with any info I could get my hands on. He told me a let’s play, were it to happen, would be some way away, likely after a Switch port. In hindsight I’m thankful it hasn’t happened yet, since a Masters has occured in my life between starting and finishing this endeavor.
Back then I’d originally planned to just grab the base stats for every species when the game’s index only displays a range specific to level-bracket. I thought it was something I could achieve with my available resources. But then, when the datamine was shared with me, my list lengthened to include:
 - Arts – Attribute, Category, Hit No., Direction, Scaling, Cooldown, Effects - At least 3 of these per enemy, and increasing
- Appendages – Hardness, Skell Targetability and Exposure
- Battle Skills – Aura Effects, Tiers and Duration, Spike Scaling, Attribute, and Rate of Damage, and other invisible Skills and Enhancements
- Immunities & Resistances to Debuffs
- Size-Category
- Stats
& Drops – Armor, Weapons, Skell Armor, Skell Weapons, and Materials & their crafting use
For context on the quantity of information that amounts to, just add up the number of capitalised points on that list, multiply it by 110 or so, and then assume the time necessary to locate and translate the relevant information from the tables.
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By May of 2018, I was organising the findings onto spreadsheets for the information, and translating it to a document guide. Then I started the Masters and it was put on hold, about a dozen species done, but some still with gaps and ?s that I hadn’t worked out from my digging. But in August of 2020, Emile teased a let’s play which had the potential to be Xenoblade Chronicles X, which spurred me to pick up the work while concluding my dissertation piece. It turned out to be a different Xenoblade, but then I was in the clear of the Masters and working in earnest, identifying everything I’d previously been unsure about and concluding first drafts of all 100+ entries going into December. The time since has been spent on a handful of further additions, then editing, until we come to February 2021, where everything is ready.
I did have some help from a collaborator by the online handle of Abarax for playtesting, and in the process of the digging I’ve also ended up building several more documents for look-up purposes. And I’ve produced a full set of clean portraits for the enemies which the wiki was previously lacking.
I know hundreds of players will be able to benefit from these guides. Truthfully, despite whatever preconceptions my portfolio pieces would have people believe, this project is just as in line with getting me closer to my dreams as building technically impressive transforming robots. My passion lies in JRPGS – Pokémon, Xenoblade, Final Fantasy, Persona, Kingdom Hearts. Getting to work with one during this project has been immensely fulfilling. 
In total, my findings have produced a little less than 200 pages of new and clear information. I’ve already shared them both with the game’s wiki and made proposals to have the information in them implemented in their pages. I’ll let the guides speak for the rest.
PRESENTING NEW GAME GUIDES
-       Xenoblade Chronicles X - Enemy Notes + Augment Crafting Guide
-       Xenoblade Chronicles X - Enemy Info Sheets
And I’ll add this response I got from one of the moderators after they’d looked through it.
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And a poster -
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nejiraez · 4 years
Text
feb 3 | bakugou katsuki
i’m a day behind; oh well // angst anon this one’s 4 u
genre: angst (GOOD ANGST with soft bakugou~)
summary: dares were never a good idea, especially when it came to playing with people’s feelings. bakugou learns this the hard way.
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Bakugou's friends enjoyed teasing the hell out of him. They liked to see their hotheaded friend riled up on some occasions. Whether it be through tasteless jokes, pranks, or simply provoking him to do questionable shit he wouldn't normally do. 
One in particular being, ‘I dare you to date one of our classmates for at least two weeks and not catch feelings’. Because they had thought he was incapable of doing so or that his personality was so offputting that most people wouldn’t even want to be in a relationship with him, to begin with.
So, like the prideful person he was, he went with it. He accepted the dare to toy with the heart of one of the students and drop them after the dare was done with. Originally, that was the plan.
The whole thing was stupid. Incredibly stupid. But gradually, Bakugou did happen to catch feelings for that one special classmate of his, surprising himself and his friends. He was incredibly and wholeheartedly whipped for his classmate (L/N) (Y/N).
Two weeks eventually turned into four and then shifted into months, almost nearing an entire year. A whole year of Bakugou being in a happy, loving relationship with you.
Because of the turn of events, Bakugou decided for the dare to be dropped and forgotten about. Hoping that he could start off fresh with you.
All was well and the two of you were happy. Until one early evening, a notification on his phone lit up his lock screen.
     »»————- ————-««
[dunce face]: and to think that you two got together because of a dare, lol
[dunce face]: u should be thanking me for the happy adorable relationship :D
     »»————- ————-««
You weren’t the type to voluntarily snoop around one’s belongings or business. Katsuki had left his phone on the coffee table -- face up -- while he stepped out of the room to bring you water.
The previous context of what had brought up the text conversation was one you had no knowledge about. Nor did you care.
‘And to think you two got together because of a dare’.
‘Dare’.
At that moment, you didn't know what to feel. To discover that the sole reason as to why your boyfriend was dating you was because of a dare he and his friends had whipped up. 
Shock. Hurt? Betrayal? Anger?
"Baby, I couldn't find that stupid Fiji shit you drink," Katsuki's voice snapped you out of your daze. "So I brought you this instead." And he places the water in your line of vision on the table.
You murmured something he couldn't quite hear properly. Something was wrong. Concerned and confused, he scooches closer to hear you better. He lifts a gentle hand to your face and he thumbs away the stray tear that had dropped from your eye. "What's wrong - "
You jerk your head away from his careful touches on your cheek. "I said don't call me that!" You yell, removing yourself off from the couch and taking a cautious step back away from him, creating as much distance between you two as you possible.
Katsuki's face drops at the sound of your cracked and heartbroken voice. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to hurt you. He wasn’t sure of what he did wrong or what made you react this way. “What’s gotten into you?” He asks. 
"I was nothing but a dare to you!" You cry out, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. "A stupid, fucking dare!" Plump watery tears were now streaming down your face and hiccups began to slip past your lips due to how hard you were crying.
Realization sets on Katsuki's features and a sickening feeling inside his stomach left him riddled with anxiety. You had found out. You fucking found out
"Who - " Katsuki inhales a shaky breath. His greatest fear was unravelling itself right before his eyes. "Who told you?" 
When you pointed at his phone, the weight of guilt increased tenfold. The fact that you discovered such news from his idiotic friends rather than from him made him feel like the biggest piece of shit.
“You weren’t going to tell me that I was your plaything, huh?” You hiss, grabbing all of your belongings so that you could leave his house.
"Never the fuck have I ever," Katsuki breathes, his stony vermillion eyes bore into yours hoping that you would believe him, "thought of you as a ‘plaything’, (Y/N)." 
But his words were like air to you. Going through one ear and out the other. 
“I understand that you’re mad,” Bakugou says, following you towards the door. “But listen to me, please. What I feel for you is anything but fake.”
With each attempt he takes at reaching you to touch you, you push him further away. Further away from resolving things. 
When you began to put on your shoes, Katsuki began to panic at the fact that he was really losing you. “(Y/N), please.” He says. 
He grabs your spring jacket away from you, in a childish, fruitless attempt in hoping that you wouldn’t leave without it. “I fucking love you, don’t do this.” His voice was beginning to break now. “Listen to me!”
You turn one last time to look Katsuki dead in the eye. "I don’t want to see your face again, Bakugou. We’re done." And with that, you slammed the front door shut leaving the blond isolated.
A few minutes had passed since you left, but he hasn’t dared to leave his spot. It wasn’t until his vision turned blurry and hot tears were streaming down his face that he understood what had just happened. Not even until his chest wracked violently through his chest due to the hyperventilating and the grave awareness of everything.
That he realized truly lost one of the greatest people in his life.
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rotzaprachim · 4 years
Note
For the 3-sentence: I'd love to see Nile and another member of the Old Guard discussing some form of pop culture. (Unrelated but I feel like Joe would go really hard for Star Wars while simultaneously calling all other sci-fi nerdy and bad.)
thank you so much for this prompt! doesn’t have too much.. discussion as i always seem to lean more toward exposition i guess! (AND yes i agree strongly about Joe and star wars. he has Strong Opinions about every star wars film!) hope you enjoy
essential listening (768 words, G, AO3 here)
(And a link to every single song/artist mentioned on spotify here- it’s 1hr 46 minutes instead of 9 but u can just look through) 
Joe wanted to do a cassette, but Nile talked him into a Spotify playlist, and by the time they’ve compiled the bare essentials in the last three hundred years of music, shuffled into a vaguely chronological order, the playlist stretches into the six hour mark. Wild how what was once pop culture can become, if canonised, a classic worthy of academic attention, Nile thinks as she slots in Frank Ocean after Fairuz and Fabrizio De André, wonders how the music of her own time will go down the years- although there’s long been a power attached, even in the long term, to whiteness, maleness. Put a white face on the record cover and that’s the version that hits the top one-hundred. It’s the original version of Universal Soldier by Buffy Sainte-Marie Nile adds to the list, rather than the one most people seem to know, the cover by Donovan. Odetta’s God’s Gonna Cut You Down over Cash’s.
Joe has his own opinions, additions, Souad Massi and Donna Summer and Bruce Springsteen and the Star Wars opening theme which, Nile argues back, is pointless without the context of Star Wars itself, which when they’ve tried to explain it to Quỳnh has caused more confusion than the actual moon landings or satellite TV. But how much music exists without the context of its time? Nile flicks through the list. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord. It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I aint no senator’s son. Una mattina, mi son svegliato, e ho trovato l’invasor. We shall overcome. Go tell the rambler, the gambler, the backbiter, tell ‘em the almighty’s gonna cut ‘em down.
Nile looks to where Quỳnh’s wiping down her set of 11th century Damascene watered steel knives with nail polish remover while she dedicatedly watches the tv, eyes swallowing news, history, turns of phrase and culture. It feels presumptuous and strange, in a way, to be doing this, three hundred years to a woman who’s seen five thousand, has known and forgotten more ballads and lullabies and folk songs than Spotify has on its server. Music is language is context, and how could she, even Joe and Nicky, ever even vaguely understand the worlds that wrote those songs? Quỳnh, like Andy, came millenia before "quel Nazzareno," before "the man from Galilee," although Nile’s never asked either of them about it, not sure if she really wants the answers.
“Calice, Chico Buarque and Milton Nascimento.” Nicky says when he returns, and she adds it, a song with context if there ever was one. “Cancion por el Fusil y la Flor. Mercedes Sosa.” He hands her breakfast, a salteña and a cup of hot, sweet coffee, and organises away his other findings with a military efficiency: medical gauze, unmarked magazines, a fresh pair of cheap-ass plastic sunglasses for Joe. Nicky calls out other suggestions. Má vlast. Sinnerman. Arturo Márquez - Danzón No. 2. Goran Bregović. They never take any songs off the playlist, only add others on. Seven hours, eight. “Essential” means something different to everyone on earth. “Exactly how much Sanremo did Joe suggest be put on there? Oh, and add the Star Trek theme.”
Andy returns from scouting while Joe’s replacing the lisence plate on the car. Nile downloads the whole thing onto a freshly air-gapped phone. She needs to stop ribbing on Joe’s old-man cassette-and-tape-deck ways, or Nicky’s even-older-man preference for vinyls- at least those don’t come with the threat of a digital footprint, the chance of being caught over some road trip jams. Joe packs everything into the trunk of the car while Nile checks the route and writes down the key highways and intersections onto a napkin. Maybe it’s a universal in all families, even immortal ones, that the youngest person gets to be the navigator when digital maps are involved. She gets to ride shotgun, at least, climb in in front next to Nicky. He’s absentmindedly tapping out a melody on the steering wheel. She doesn’t recognise it.
“My education begins,” Quỳnh says from the back. She always has a glint of humour in her eyes, a joke- Nile can never quite tell when she’s being sardonic or serious. Nicky pulls away from the curb. Nile queues up the playlist. Hadyn’s Cello Concerto in C. And then the Star Wars Cantina Band song. Maybe she didn’t do quite as good a job at organising things as she thought she did. Nine hours, final cut- long enough to make it over the border to Peru, at least, allowing for some pauses for periodic arguing over directions, getting lost, and roadside snacking.
“Yeah.” Nile presses play. “Let’s get started.”
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bettsfic · 3 years
Text
march pinned: ending the sex project
in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!
for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.
if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.
full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.
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fuck february, amiright?
i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.
the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”
new resource
last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.
i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!
writing-related posts
how to physically maneuver the revision process
the difference between M and E ratings of fic
resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)
a couple syntax/prose book recs
how to break a long work into chapters
march availability
unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!
you can learn more about my services on my carrd.
what i’m into rn
for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).
reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.
while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.
i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.
i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.
been thinkin a lot about
the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.
what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.
how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?
in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.
i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.
i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.
then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.
it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you’re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?
maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”
it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.
i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.
my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.
now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.
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Lover - Bonus Scene
“Lover” is back! I was really sad that I left this idea out of the original story so I decided to add it in as a bonus scene. This would technically come right before chapter 7 for context... and it’s from Cathy’s perspective! I had a really fun time bringing this idea to life. Hope you guys enjoy! 💚💙
Word Count: 3144
Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7
———————————————————————
2:47
2:46
2:45
Cathy anxiously watched her timer, counting down the seconds along with it in an attempt to keep herself calm. She glanced up at the mirror in front of her and stared at her reflection, trying to resist looking down at her phone. Only a few moments later, Cathy caved in and looked back down at her phone.
2:37
Cathy sighed to herself before letting her eyes drift to the cause of her timer. Lying on the counter of the bathroom was a pregnancy test, face down so Cathy wouldn’t be taunted by that loading screen. She had the sudden urge to turn the test over but quickly shook her head and looked back at her phone.
2:14
Cathy huffed in frustration. She knew from experience that waiting was one of the worst parts of this whole ordeal. It was second only to finding out that she wasn’t pregnant. Cathy’s heart gripped as she thought back to the times before when she had felt the sharp pain of disappointment at the result of the pregnancy test. She hoped this time would be different.
Cathy longed to finally have a child with Anne. Her sweet, supportive Anne who always stood by her side and held her when she cried about the heartbreaking news. Anne never gave up and constantly encouraged Cathy to have the same outlook. Anne kept her going through all the heartache.
Cathy’s mind wandered to their conversation about having children, the day they had decided to start trying for a baby. Anne had brought up the subject of kids lightly, not wanting to force Cathy into the change if she wasn’t ready. Much to Anne’s surprise however, Cathy had burst into a bright smile and confessed that she had been wanting to have a baby since they had gotten married. From there, they shed a few happy tears and talked some more before deciding together that Cathy would carry the baby. They had both been so excited about their decision at the time, not realizing how difficult the process would actually be.
Cathy was broken out of her thoughts by the gentle chime of her timer going off. She reached forward and turned it off before eyeing the pregnancy test once again. She reached out and grabbed it, hesitating for a moment to take a deep breath. Cathy closed her eyes and slowly turned over the test. 
When Cathy opened her eyes, she gawked at the single word on the screen of the pregnancy test in her hand - Pregnant. Cathy was stunned by the result for a few moments before she finally let the realization sink in that she was indeed pregnant. A wide smile spread across her face as she felt happy tears well up in her eyes.
The tears slowly rolled down her face as she brought a hand to her abdomen, an acknowledgement of the baby that was beginning to form inside her. Cathy let out breathy laughs as she continued to admire the confirmation of her pregnancy. She felt liquid excitement course through her veins as she imagined the look on Anne’s face when she told her.
“Oh my God! I need to tell Anne!” Cathy exclaimed to herself as she began to brainstorm different ways she could tell her wife that they were finally expecting a baby.
Anne was at work which gave Cathy enough time to execute the perfect plan, if only she could think of one. Cathy didn’t want to just tell her or just give her the pregnancy test. She wanted to do something cute, possibly including something that they could keep forever to remind them of the special moment.
A thought struck Cathy and she smiled at her idea. It was a week away from their anniversary which meant Cathy had a plausible excuse to give Anne a present. However, the gift wouldn’t just be an anniversary gift; it would be her way of telling Anne that she was pregnant. As for the present itself, Cathy was still unsure. 
She glanced down at the pregnancy test in hopes of finding inspiration for Anne’s gift. After a few moments of pondering her options, Cathy finally resolved to pick out something at the baby store that wasn’t too far away from their house. 
She set the pregnancy test back on the bathroom counter and checked her phone for the time. Cathy realized she only had about an hour until Anne returned so she would have to be quick. In a hurry, Cathy raced downstairs and grabbed her keys before heading out to her car.
There was minimal traffic to the baby store which Cathy thanked her lucky stars for. As she entered the shop, she heard the door chime and a kind employee greeted her. Cathy nodded politely before looking around at the various items for sale. 
Cathy came to the baby clothes section first, wondering if she should get a baby onesie for her surprise. As she strolled by, she admired how tiny the baby clothes actually were. Cathy could barely imagine a human being so small. Cathy sauntered into the crib section next. She looked around and saw a wide selection of cribs, car seats, and strollers. She knew that these items would be too big for the gift but it was still amusing to imagine Anne’s reaction to a fully assembled crib in the living room when she got home. 
Cathy finally approached the toy section of the baby store. She looked around at all of the brightly colored toys adorning the wall. Cathy picked up a few, rattling some of them and feeling the soft textures of others. Cathy even played with a couple of toys that made sounds. An embarrassed blush crept into her cheeks when she realized how much fun she was having with these toys. Maybe she would buy one of these for herself.
Cathy perused the different stuffed animals on the shelves, ranging from elephants to dogs to sloths and everything in between. Most of them were pastel colors, exuding a sense of calmness from the color as well as the cute facial expressions of the animals. Hence when Cathy’s eyes landed on a bright purple lion with a red mane, she let out a small laugh. The strange creature looked so out of place among the other stuffed animals.
Cathy instantly fell in love with the little lion and knew that Anne would too. With that thought in mind, Cathy picked up the lion from the shelf and purchased it. The door chimed once more as she left the store with the purple lion in hand.
When Cathy arrived back home, she let out a relieved sigh when she noticed that Anne’s car was not in the driveway. She still had time to throw her surprise together before Anne got home. Cathy rushed back inside and chose one of the unused gift bags from their closet at random before heading upstairs to the bathroom. She quickly grabbed the pregnancy test from the counter and wrapped it in some of the tissue paper that came with the gift bag. She gently placed it at the bottom of the bag before proceeding to put the lion in. She added a few of the remaining sheets of tissue paper to the top for decoration and headed to her bedroom to wait until Anne got home.
Cathy sat on the end of the bed and looked at the wall in front of her, which was adorned with the Polaroids that told her and Anne’s love story thus far. She glanced at each one for a brief moment and smiled at the memories they brought back. These pictures were some of the most special possessions that she and Anne shared, along with the journal she gave Anne a couple Christmases ago and the novel that she had used to propose to Anne with. Each Polaroid was a puzzle piece that fit together to portray Anne and Cathy’s lives together. Luckily for them, they still had lots of pieces to assemble before the puzzle was completed.
Cathy’s thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening. Cathy smiled widely at the sound of her wife returning home. She got up from the bed and left the bedroom to meet Anne by the entrance of their house.
“Cathy! I’m home!” Anne shouted before noticing the sound of feet hurrying down the stairs. She hung her jacket up and turned back around to see her wife approaching her. Cathy pressed a quick kiss to her lips, like she always did when Anne got home from work. Anne smiled giddily and leaned in for a second kiss which quickly led to a third.
“How was work?” Cathy asked as the couple made their way to the living room.
Anne groaned as she flopped down on the couch. “Exhausting! I was working on a new design for one of my clients and then they completely changed their vision, and now I have to rework the entire design. My team was pretty upset but I managed to get them excited again with one of my amazing pep talks.” Anne turned back to Cathy and rubbed her wife’s arm affectionately. “How was your day, love? Did you finish that chapter you were working on?”
“Almost,” Cathy answered. “I actually took a break and went out for a bit. Speaking of which, I have a gift for you.” Cathy bit her lip to conceal some of her excitement about Anne’s present.
Anne smiled widely at the mention of a present. “Ooh! What’s the occasion?”
“It’s an anniversary gift. But, I can’t wait that long to give it to you,” Cathy admitted. “I’ll be right back!”
Cathy quickly ran back up to their bedroom and grabbed the gift bag that was still sitting on the edge of the bed. She smiled to herself for a moment, growing increasingly excited about how the next few minutes were about to unfold. Unable to wait any longer, Cathy went back downstairs to where Anne was waiting for her on the couch.
As Cathy entered the living room, she noticed that Anne was fiddling with their Polaroid camera. Anne looked up to meet Cathy’s curious stare before saying, “We’re out of film, love. We’ll have to get some more the next time we go out.” 
“I told you not to take so many pictures of me, Annie!” Cathy laughed as she sat down next to her wife, gently nudged her shoulder against Anne’s. 
“But you’re so pretty!” Anne whined back before setting the camera back on the side table. “I can’t help it.”
Cathy looked down at the gift bag in her hands and blushed lightly. The other queens always thought it was so strange that, even after years of being together, Cathy and Anne still blushed when they gave each other compliments. But to Cathy, every compliment from Anne was like falling in love with her all over again. Hearing Anne say those words made her feel all giddy and warm inside, and Cathy was sure Anne felt the same way when she complimented her.
Anne leaned in and kissed Cathy softly on the cheek, successfully bringing the latter girl back to reality. “So… are you going to give me the present now?” Anne whispered cheekily in Cathy’s ear. 
Cathy rolled her eyes playfully and handed Anne the gift bag. Anne took it and looked back to Cathy with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Is it lingerie?” Anne asked with a smirk on her face.
Cathy let out a small chuckle and shook her head. “You wish. Open it, love.”
Without another word, Anne pulled out the tissue paper and reached inside the bag for her anniversary gift. She let out a small laugh as she set the purple lion on her lap. 
“He’s so cute!” Anne commented as she ruffled the stuffed animal’s red mane. “Where did you get him?”
“The baby store,” Cathy replied softly, watching Anne’s reaction closely in hopes that she would get the hint about her being pregnant.
“Oh! I love that place!” Anne exclaimed absentmindedly, making the stuffed lion clap his paws together. “Hopefully we’ll be spending a lot more time in there soon.”
Cathy had to restrain herself from facepalming at Anne’s last comment. Her wife was so close yet so far to what Cathy was trying to tell her. Anne really was an oblivious idiot 99% of the time.
Cathy decided next to try a different approach to indirectly tell Anne. “You know, I didn’t actually get the toy for you, Anne.” Cathy watched Anne stop playing with the lion and thought she had finally understood what Cathy was hinting at. Instead, Cathy watched as the smile fell from Anne’s face and a heartbroken expression took its place. 
“You mean, you got Mr. Roary for yourself? I thought this was my anniversary present!” Anne pouted softly. She gave Cathy her best puppy dog eyes which made Cathy’s heart melt instantly at the sight. Anne may be an oblivious idiot but she was her oblivious idiot.
“No- What I mean is- Wait,” Cathy stuttered before realizing that Anne had just called the stuffed lion Mr. Roary. “Did you give him a name already?” Cathy asked with a laugh.
Anne’s smile returned as she answered Cathy’s question. “Mr. Roareth King. But he goes by Mr. Roary,” Anne said and lifted the stuffed lion up in a similar fashion to The Lion King. Cathy giggled as Anne brought the toy back down. Anne turned to her curiously before asking, “But, I still don’t understand. Who did you get Mr. Roary for?”
 Cathy’s expression softened at Anne’s question before using the opportunity to get her announcement underway. “There’s something else in the bag.”
Anne gave her a confused look before setting Mr. Roary aside and shuffling in the gift bag once more. She pulled out the test, still wrapped in tissue paper, and dropped the gift bag to the floor in front of them. She gave Cathy a quick glance before unraveling the paper.
Cathy watched as Anne stared at the pregnancy test in her hands, a look of realization finally dawning on her. Anne let out a shaky breath, with hands trembling, as she read the single word on the test over and over. Her eyes misted over and Cathy felt hers do the same as she watched Anne process the news.
Slowly, Anne turned to Cathy with a gentle smile and took another shaky breath. A single tear trailed down Anne’s cheek before she finally spoke up. “You’re pregnant?” Anne asked with a hopeful expression in her eyes.
Cathy was too overcome with emotions to speak aloud so she simply nodded with a small smile on her face. A bright smile spread across Anne’s face, so bright that Cathy was convinced the sun would be jealous. Happy tears streamed down Anne’s cheeks, mirroring the ones that were starting to pour from Cathy’s eyes too.
Without hesitating a moment longer, Anne wrapped her arms around Cathy and gently buried her head in Cathy’s neck as she cried. Cathy returned Anne’s embrace softly as they both let their tears fall, so overcome with emotion that they were finally expecting a baby.
A few minutes later, Anne leaned back to meet Cathy’s eyes before pressing their lips together. Cathy melted into the kiss, feeling all the emotions that Anne was feeling through the simple touch. 
As they parted, Anne looked down and brought her arms back around Cathy’s waist, one hand still clutching onto the pregnancy test as the other came to rest on Cathy’s abdomen. Anne smiled softly at the sight before looking back up to meet Cathy’s own watery smile. “I’d be happy to share Mr. Roary with the little bean.”
Cathy let out a breathy laugh. “I like that. ‘Little bean.’” Cathy brought one of her hands to rest on top of Anne’s. “Our little bean.”
Anne’s smile turned into a dopey grin before a shocked expression took over as a new thought struck her. “Oh my God, Cathy! We have to tell the queens!” Anne parted from Cathy in a hurry, placing the pregnancy test on the side table next to the Polaroid camera. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and was about to speed dial Kat when Cathy placed a hand on top of hers to stop her frantic actions.
“Hey! Anne, slow down!” Cathy said gently before continuing. “Can we keep this to ourselves for a little bit? At least, until we see a doctor? Then maybe we can plan a super cute way to tell them instead of over the phone.” Cathy looked expectantly at Anne, hoping that she would agree to Cathy’s request.
Anne nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Yeah, you’re right,” Anne agreed as she returned her phone to her pocket. “I’m just… I’m so excited! Cathy, we’re having a baby!” Anne squealed as she gave Cathy another one of her amazing smiles.
“We’re having a baby,” Cathy repeated dreamily as she reflected Anne’s smile.
“You know, I would say we should pop some champagne but you can’t have alcohol for nine months,” Anne teased as she nudged Cathy’s shoulder gently. She picked up Mr. Roary and addressed him. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Roary.” Anne made the purple lion nod his head, making Cathy giggle at the sight.
“It’s going to be a long nine months, then,” Cathy joked. “But I think celebratory ice cream will suffice. Don’t you think, Mr. Roary.” Anne made the stuffed animal nod his head once more before the couple headed off to the kitchen to prepare two bowls of their favorite flavors of ice cream.
As Cathy ate another spoonful of her cookies and cream ice cream, she looked over to her wife sitting next to her, who was pretending to feed Mr. Roary some of her ice cream. Cathy felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at the sight, imagining that in the near future Anne would be in a similar position with their child. 
Anne was going to be a mother. And so was Cathy. They were about to enter a whole new chapter of their lives together - one filled with sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and the fullest hearts they could ever imagine. There were still a lot of uncertainties about their future and especially about motherhood. They both had so much to learn about how to be parents and take care of a baby. But Cathy was sure of one thing. She wouldn’t want to do this with anybody but Anne. It would always be Anne. Her Anne. Her wife. Her source of laughter. The wind in her sails. Her constant. Her safe haven. The light of her life. Her comfort. Her oblivious idiot. Her lover. 
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luci-cunt · 3 years
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Tell me about Magneto🤭
MAY YOU CAN’T SEE IT BUT IM KISSING YOU SO PASSIONATELY RIGHT NOW
Ok so listeeennnn tooooo meeeee, okokokok, so a while ago I went on this James McAvoy bender--don’t ask--and I saw he was in the X-Men movies, whic hi haven’t watched since the Wolverine movies/ Last Stand when I was like, actually a baby. So anyways I flipped them on thinking “yeah what could go wrong?” except I watched them in the wrong order
Anyways here’s an essay on why neither Erik or Prof X was right and the actual answer would be to compromise and these movies how how because they’re both too stubborn and couldn’t it destroyed their friendship and fucked everything up. 
Also the fact that X-Men: First Class is the best Villain origin story to ever cross the screen.
Ok so spoilers ahead for X-Men: Days of Future Past and X-Men: First Class
Now, it should be noted that I’m no an X-Men expert I just love these two movies. 
So for some context: First Class and Days of Future Past are both kind of prequels, except DoFP is a prequel-sequel?? becuase of time travel?? I’ll explain don’t worry. The point is, they take place in the past where all the characters are younger. James McAvoy plays Professor X (who I’ll just be calling X for this whole thing), Michael Fassbender plays Magneto (aka Erik), oh and Jennifer Lawrence plays Mystic--who will be appearing in this essay XDD. 
Alright so first of all have a plot summary: DoFP is about Wolverine getting sent back in time so he can convince a younger Prof X to stop Raven (aka Mystic) from getting caught by this guy Trask who then uses her DNA to create super weapons that irradiate all mutants. The current future Wolverine is in, he, prof X, Magneto, and a few other mutants are trying their best to survive but it’s a losing battle and their only hope is to literally change the past. 
This one takes place after the events of First Class, which I will now explain. 
So in First Class a younger Prof X and Magneto team up to find and recruit bb mutants to X’s school because the government wants to use Mutants to help fight the Russians (oh head this takes placee in the 1960′s right before the Cuban Missile Crisis). This is essentially a Magneto origin story and also--in my opinion--the best villain origin story to ever cross the screen. 
OK so now some details on our main characters: 
Magneto/ Erik Lehnsherr: a literal holocaust survivor who’s only goal in the begining of the story is hunting/ killing nazi’s, specifically one nazi who tortured him specifically and I will get into him later don’t worry. 
Professor X: super smart rich white boy with a heart of gold but also enough naivete to make a lamb look like a Stephen King character. 
Already you can see very stark differences between the two of them. Erik is set up as being a staunch pessimist while X is a vivid optimist, and that makes sense. X’s grown up sheltered and never wanting for anythign while Erik suffered a trainwreck of the greatest traumas in human existence hitting him over and over and over again from like age fucking 9. 
Ok also tehre’s J-Law’s character Raven, who is a mutant that can change her skin to look like anythign she wants it to but her actual form is blue/ scaly/ “not pretty” (bullshit but ok). She met X when she broke into his house one night to steal some food and then they became friends, their relationship will become important later but for now that’s all u need to know. 
ok so anyways, in the begining of First Class Erik is hunting + killing Nazi’s, specifically looking for this one called Schmidt because when Erik was little he and his family were carted away to a concentration camp where Schmidt witness Erik use his metal bending powers and decided to “train” him. aka physically/ mentally abuse him for years. The whole thing starts with Schmidt trying to get Erik to lift a metal coin with his mind, when he can’t (because he’s a child who didn’t even know he had his powers until literally hours ago) Schmidt puts his mother’s life on the line and when he still can’t Schmidt kills her. This sends Erik it’s a rage and he crushes some nazi heads but then Schmidt is still standing and mentions how “oh gotcha, so it’s rage and pain that’s the key to your powers huh?” anyways this tidbit and the coin will become important later trust me--
Meanwhile Prof X is graduating from Oxford/ generally being an idiot pretty boy. He’s a telepath who knows about his powers and has used them from an early age. He also wrote some big paper on mutants, which gets the attention of an FBI agent who witnesses the villains being mutants and wants his advice
However, the villains just so happen to be Schmidt, who’s going by “Shaw” now, so when X and the agents catch up to him Erik is already there and on a mission to murder his ass. Some bs happens, Erik tries to pull a submarine out of the water but can’t (T-T this will be important) and X jumps into the water to stop him because the mental stress is literally killing him. 
That’s how they meet. 
It’s important to note: up until this point, Erik didn’t know there were other mutants, so meeting X, who’s friends with Raven, is kind of a big deal for him. He and X become very fast friends and also have a very homoerotic montage where they become dads for a bunch of mutant teenagers, because they realize they can use X to track all these baby mutants, collect them, and train them so they don’t grow up fearing their powers. 
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Anyways, the other thing about this is that now that Erik has this newfound group of people that are just like him, he’s opening up, and X is helping him realize he’s actually so much more powerful when he taps into happy memories rather than fueling himself on pain and rage. This scene always makes me sob oh my god--
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Also, fellas--is it gay to “access the brightest cortex” of your homies memories and remind him that hate and pain are not good motivators before reminding him that he has good memories he can draw on and showing him that his life has not been entirely painful?
YEs, the answer is yes are u shitting me??
ok so anyways--something to note about this is that X and Erik are both very protective of all their new kids, but Erik is especially so. I’m going to be getting into this more but just tab thsi thought for later :)
Now, the plot’s kicking up a bit, because it’s at this point that Erik and X capture one of Shaw’s (aka the nazi’s) main lackies and they question her until she gives them the info that Shaw’s planning on using the Cuban Missile Crisis tensions to start a nuclear war to wipe out all humans so that only mutants survive in the new world. 
Obviously they want to stop him, but also, you can kind of tell that Erik is not totally against this plan, which only gets to be more later but that’s for later. 
Right now I wanna take a quick break to talk about Raven--aka Mystic, aka J-Law. She and X were childhood friends and she kind of clung to him because she doesn’t have family/ anyone she can really be herself around besides him. 
X insistently says throughout the movie he sees her as a sister, but it’s kinda obvious she’d be down to fuck. She has this big plotline where she keeps trying to get X to understand why it’s so frustrating for her to have to be using energy to look “human.” Because her natural form is the one with the blue skin. X doesn’t understand this because his power is easy to hide, it’s simple for him to just fake-human and have no one be any wiser, Raven, however, doesn’t have that luxury and when she tries to explain this to X it just flies over his head, insisting she hide her natural self to better fit in if that’s what she really wants. 
Queue Erik, who comes in as a king of self love. He’s pretty blunt about it, but his point is basically “you’re wasting energy by constantly pretending you’re something you’re not--stop” and she responds essentially with “yeah but then no one will like me” to which he responds “then make them.”  
Raven’s relationship with both the boys is used through both First Class and DoFP to really highlight their faults. X believes humans and mutants can coexist but he thinks we go about doign that by completely ignoring the pages of history of abuse mutants have suffered--and it’s mostly because he hasn’t experienced it. 
Erik on the other hand will do everything and anything he possibly can to protect his new family/ people, and in his head that means exterminating any and all threats. By the end of the movie--humans become one of those threats. 
The point of this whole ramble is that: they both represent utter opposites, BUT, X’s blind optimism and Erik’s blind pessimism are equally bad.
Ok so back to plot for a second to prove this. 
Shaw is revealed to be a mutant himself and he also has a helmet that can block telepathy. (yes it’s the magneto helmetjasjd;fkjaskl;dfjasldkj jsut wait).
His plan’s complicated but basically: he’s going to poke America and Russia until they pop and incite a nuclear war. And it works. The whole pre-climax of the film sees X, Erik, Raven, and the other mutants all working double time to stop Shaw’s plan (AND IT INVOLVES ERIK SUCCESSFULLY PULING A SUBMARINE OUT OF THE WATER!!! BECAUSE NOW HE’S USING HAPPINESS INSTEAD OF ANGER/ PAIN!!!). 
Anywho, they’re doing all this, but then some bullshit happens, the plane they’re on crashes oh and -- yeah there’s this part where Erik uses himself as a seatbelt for X it’s fantastic but anyways--
This is finally the climax of the film. 
Also possibly the greatest scene in film history in my humble opinion. 
Because listen--in order to stop Shaw they need the helmet off of him so that X can telepathically freeze his ass and they can arrest him or whatever. So they split up--Erik rushes into the wreckage to find Shaw and X stays behind ready to freeze the guy as soon as the helmet comes off but--
Well, vengence is just too tempting. 
So when Erik gets Shaws helmet off, X freezes the guy, and he’s ecstatic, at least until he realizes Erik plans on killing Shaw. 
He’s pleading with Erik because this is vengence and he can’t chose that but Erik just puts on the helmet and--taunts Shaw, pulling out the coin Shaw taunted him with all those years ago and in a mimickry of the game Shaw forced him to play as a child and killed his mother over--he slowly floats the coin at Shaws head, telling him “I’m going to count to ten, and all you have to do is move.” 
But he can’t--because X is holding him--and that’s the point, Erik wants him as helpless as he was, and X can’t let his hold on Shaw go because that would mean putting Erik in danger but he’s also in Shaws head so he feels the coin go through his head as though Erik was doing it to him and the fucking cinematography in this scene is so fuaksdjf;laksjd;fjasd;lkfjadsl;asdjf;ljL:DKJFL:SDKJFL:D KFUCKKKKK
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This scene is cinematic perfection don’t fucking lOOK at me unless you agree.
T-T and then, it only gets worse, because now Erik’s finally finished his original purpose--killing the man who killed his mother and ruined his life--and now he’s got a new one, aka protecting his new family aka the mutants. 
AND HE’S ONLY PROVEN RIGHT THAT HUMANS ARE A THREAT BECAUSE THEY TURN AND TRY TO KILL ALL THE MUTANTS IN THE PLANE CRASH AND JSUT--
And so he stops all the missiles flying their way, and turns them around on the humans and X has to stop him but he’s not listening and the rawest fucking line in the whole movie comes when X says
“There’s hundreds of men on those ships--innocent men. They’re just following orders!” 
And Erik simply replies, “I’ve been at the mercy of men ‘just following orders’--never again.” 
And then he goes to blow up the shipsthen one of the other characters goes to shoot Erik and he deflects the bullet wtihout thinking right. into. X’s. back. 
Paralysing him. 
And just akjd;fjasdflkjasd;lfkj this scene speaks for itself
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Listen just--akjdsf;ljasdlk jguys this movie has no right being this good.
And then the movie closes off with X and Erik literally begging one another to just see it their way--because they both want so badly to be on the same side but they’re too stubborn and they refuse to see compromise and just ajkdf;lja;sdkfja;sdljkfsadlkf
Ok I realize now that I barely talked about DoFP but this is already so long. The major things I was going to bring up was teh absolutely fantastic bitter exes energy that McAvoy and Fassbender bring to that movie it’s excellent but also the fact that X is literally the only person Erik goes out of his way not to kill despite standing directly in the way of Erik’s goal. 
Like, you remember my whole deal with Raven??? yeah that’s x10 in DoFP (which takes place quickly after this movie) yeah so her and Erik are close, and shown to be close, but the second he thinks she endangers his fam he literally 180′s so quick and tries to straight up murder her. 
BUT HE FUCKING BENDS THE BULLET AROUND X’s HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! X!!!!!!!!!! WHO’S LITERALLY 100% AGAINST HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST
Ok, that’s all. By the way I don’t want to like, up your expecations too much because I actually kind of hate X-Men: First Class almost as much as I love it?? it’s very..... of it’s era, and cheesy, and dumb--but fucking magneto you guys holy SHIT
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mooswords · 3 years
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OKAY MOO, I’M CURRENTLY READING UR FIC “Home” AND I’M— THE END OF THE FIRST PART WAS SO BEAUTIFUL. “he always comes home” -> IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CONTRAST TO THE BEGINNING!!! he gets lost in his OWN fields, and that’s saying something. however, despite that, the reader still being reassured (or as much as she can reassure herself) that he always comes home = he has the red string to BRING HIMSELF BACK TO THE READER = ALWAYS COMING HOME. I’M!!!! and i love the silly banter that opened the story. aLso HIS HESISTATION OVER TELLING THE READER THE JOB HE WAS ASSIGNED... BECAUSE HE WAS WORRIED ABT THE READER.... AKDKSKKSKS. the fact he didn’t accept the offer immediately DESPITE being so in love with the sea and waited for reader’s permission is such a SMALL thing, but when you describe his love for the sea as superior, that action shows he loves the reader even more and i just- SLKDKAKDKSK. i might be over-reading and i apologise if i do bUT DO COMMENT ON IT THANK U!! 🤩💜 - ava
u sent me these eons ago and i promise i wasnt ignoring you ive just been working like 10 hour days and i am Exhausted 😭😭 but all of these messages legitamately give me life, i am so incredibly grateful! <3 im so so glad you enjoyed this fic!! and you are NOT OVERREADING I LOVE TO SEE YOUR INSIGHTS!!!! it makes me fall back in love with the fic all over again! <3 
i am SO glad that him always coming home comes through! because it gets kinda dire in the middle of the fic so i wanted there to be that hope at the back of your mind that knew he always came home. but i wanted you to be stressed about it still so :) and silly banter is my favourite part of writing this guy, i had so much fun with it alskdf.
and ok i love u, you got everything i was trying to do there <33 like i was struggling to find the balance between her reluctance and supportiveness. thats a fun (and tricky) thing about established relationship fics i find... theres that depth of understanding that can make the interactions more interesting, but so much of it is unspoken. it was a good challenge! so its so GOOD to hear that it vibes right hehe
THE WAY KUROO PLAYS WITH THE STRING!!! THAT WAS SUCH A FOND MOMENT OMG AKDKSKDK. and it’s so interesting that it appeared before kuroo even left 👀👀👀
she already missed him 🥺🥺 i originally had him tug on her hair and then i went!!! wait!!!! we can do better than that!!!!!!!!
READER IS LOST WITHOUT KUROOO!!!! AKDKSKSK and i also love the little addition where despite it being a POUT, she holds it close to her heart. with the context of their banters + that little scene, it just shows me how much each appreciate every ounce of the other party which makes me SO SO SO SOFT AKDJSKDKSK. and then hitting me with the scene where reader is eating a meal alone??? a punch in the gut. when she realised she’s alone I TOO remembered that kuroo is gone and that softness established in the previous scene is sUCKED OUT—ASKDKSKSKSK. 
im just a little obsessed with the little things and gestures that make u fall in love with someone? like the specific way my friend twirls her pen while were in lectures, or how my dad has that one little smile when hes amused himself with his own joke... and for that to be a last lifeline for her to hold on to before he leaves :’))) I JUST LOVE EST RELATIONSHIP FICS OK?!
hehehe yes im sorry about that puch to the gut oops 😇 that was a scene i had super clear in my head before i started - the bright, bright string against the relative drab of the table and room.
i’m at the part where reader gets lost and let me tell u, the fact they have a WAY to communicate via string pulling alone is SO ENDEARING and just subtly hints they have been at this whole red string thing for AGES (or at least enough to form such an understanding). that’s ADORABLE and really strengthens the bonds they have together 
yessssssssssss as soon as i thought of this idea i knew it had to be an established relationship. i have it in my brain they have been married maybe 2-3 years?? i am such a sucker for unspoken understanding relationships :’)
“You push hurriedly through the crowd, ducking between market stalls and wagons. There’s no string to follow, but you don’t need it to find him today.” THIS SENTENCE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL in the context of the entire story. and what a perfect way to describe/show the reader that it’s THE DAY. MOO, you’re really serving such great kuroo x reader stories please continue AHHAHA
this entire fic was so self indulgent please dshlfkljadsb but im glad u like this line!! i tend to try visualise the scene like a movie first? and then write it, and this was also one of the first scenes that was super clear in my brain :D
402 DAYS!!!! I SEE WHAT U DID THERE 👀👀 also, is this is a little hint to how u had to wait until the end to see timeskip kuroo? HAHAHA that wld be adorable
WAIT YO THATS CLEVER? I DIDT EVEN- ava when i say that is a COMPLETE coincidence... i literally just picked a number that was longer than 365 days... breaking news i am a secret genius JKBDSCN
i also really liked the “in-between”: of reader’s life without kuroo. u can really see how integrated they are to each other’s lifestyle, and not only that, the scene where reader handles a twin’s birth (to me) strengthens how they’re reallllly soulmates. there is a low chance that kuroo knew reader was in a desperate situation, yet he pulled on the string at the time reader needed it. it’s just—telapathy but not really + soulmate system = SOULMATES. do i make sense? and i really love the details, like how we can trace back kuroo’s scar to a moment of reader’s life in the fic. putting it at the end sort of makes me reflect on their situations that happened simultaneously yet not really. it sort of fills me in with this,,, space. that the earth is so wide. i understand deeper what reader means by “oh he’s going to be gone for so long”. it’s just. wow. the earth is so big yk.
YES YOU MAKE TOTAL SENSE!!! it's such a lovey way of looking at it :') can they communicate and understand eachother like this cuz theyre soulmates? or just because they love each other and have learnt the other inside out?? hhnn this is why i love soulmate aus, theres so much to pull apart!!!
and ok yes on the topic of how big the earth is... im so glad u mentioned this, its my favourite part because (not to get like... super sappy or anything) i was writing this through the toughest stages of our second lockdown. our restrictions got to the point we werent allowed further than 5km from out homes, so writing about freedom and big spaces and exploration of far off places was such a nice escape for me :’) this fic has ended up very close to my heart. (plus i was reading @/w-yuren’s hq0819 series at the time so i had travel and adventure on the brain hehe) 
THE ENDING.... THE ENDING.... THE WAY KUROO ASKED READER TO KI** HIM—IT’S LIKE THE KUROO IN MY HEAD YESSSSS. Gosh, this line too “when he kisses you he tastes like the sea; like salt-spray and dry rations and freedom.” may i have a director’s cut abt it :3 AND AKDJSKSK. i really love how the string appeared even tho they were together (the scene before kuroo docked on the ship) and once again, they are together, but none of them are lost because they r together-together. do i make sense? am i overreading things??? again, i have to comment on the banter. it’s simply amazing. kuroo’s replies are so,, KUROO, and they are filled with such FONDNESS I’M SO AKDKSKSK.
IM SO GLAD HE VIBES THANK U I THINK THE FONDNESS IS MY BIAS SHOWING BUT SHHHHH ;P you have picked one of my favourite lines out heheh it was one that just flowed out and wasnt one i particularly had to think about which is always nice. but i think it is a combo of me trying to be fancy lol and me being a huge fan of fantasy-books-set-on-ships. think like explorers or pirates, some rag tag bunch who have to set off on some quest and come back with some of that wildness imbued in their very being... yeah this line was definitely born from me Yearning i think :P
ooo do you mean the wedding scene? that was me trying to hit the ‘feeling lost in a crowd’ idea. you know when youre surrounded by people and joy and laughter and you just feel very small and disconnected? that.
ALSO READER’S DYANAMICS WITH KARASUNO CHARACTERS IS ADORABLE AKDKSKSKK. the festival scene was such a breather and it was adorable to see her interact with those characters. it feels like a snapshot in her life i simply adore that :3
ahh yea! i wanted her to have a life, you know? shes not the type to mope around, like life goes on. that doesnt mean she doesnt miss him oof but theres a whole community around to support her too!! and im very fond of takeda in this scene :’) he takes care of his crows <3
I RAMBLED SO BAD BUT THANK U AGAIN LOVELY I CANT EXPLAIN HOW AMAZING THESE ARE TO RECIEVE <3  
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kyu-bri · 4 years
Text
Magia Rapport pt 2
@magiarapport​
August 24th prompt: What was your favorite event, and why? Is it because of gameplay or the story?
It’s hard to choose so I’m gonna just, gush a bit.
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As you can probably tell I’m very biased toward the OG girls, I started Magia Record primarily because PMMM had become my new obsession and I wanted some sort of constant flow of content out of decade old anime lmao.
But another thing I think I hooked onto was Inu Curry’s writing. They really know Madoka Magica and aren’t afraid to really play with them- something the writers for a spin-off gacha game (as with most spin-off stories honestly) can be scared to do. Inu Curry made references, revealed secrets and built upon the story we already know- which lets be honest is what we always truly want from a spin-off series. Magia Record proper does this well by putting more magical girls into the world and letting us see things work out better for them than for the original cast, but what I really appreciated with this story was getting to see that old original cast get to get in on that, and these events managed to do that without watering them down any.
Under the cut is me going on for 3000 words about why I love these three events I’m so sorry. TL;DR at the very end-
I’ll go in release order,
A La Carte Valentine was one of the first if not THE first event I got in on. I was eager to bc 1 Gay Magical Girl Shit Guaranteed. And ofc 2 OG Cast participation.
I want to preface by saying I actually loved all the girls’ stories in this. I was very much still in a state of getting used to Iroha’s gang let alone trying to care about the secondary girls. I knew Tsukasa had this angsty Twins Separated At Birth Deal and liked seeing her home life (also I immediantly stanned Take. Regular well-meaning dude who has no idea whats going on just trying his best and hating his boss). I knew nothing about Ami except Cowgirl Meguca and getting the bulk of her personality in one short even I think really kept me from being absolutely sick of her, she’s just a cute silly teenage girl who could be in literally anything and I was able to just endearingly giggle at that. Hinano managed to do the heterosexual unrequited crush cliché without me groaning or missing any of her regular personality. Also was there a Ren part? I don’t remember because everything Ren does feels like a Soft Yuri Valentines Special. Also I love Momoko. Ok moving on to what I Really wanna talk about.
Madoka is genuinely my Least Cared About of the Holy Sextet. I don’t think she’s bad or even boring- Madoka has a depth to her character, like, really deep- but that’s not something ever really touched upon by the fandom. Even when people like her and make her the Heroine she’s Supposed to be, it’s usually in the context of “Girl who feels nothing but kindness and happy thoughts would cut off her right hand to feed to a hungry dog. Isn’t she so Good????”. And honestly, while I understand the point it was going to make, I wasn’t crazy about her sacrifice in the end of the series. (Team Homura “Rebellion Is Good Actually” ftw) All because I think that I’m an Adult Woman watching this like “You are 14yrs old and need to be home playing Sims and not sacrificing yourself for the greater good you stupid silly little baby girl”
So my point is here near all fan content I encounter tends to emphasize whats sort of my least favorite facet of Madoka. I don’t think she made the ‘wrong’ decision in the context she and the story were given, but it’s still a sad thing to show a depressed(!!!) insecure girl resolving to give away her very existence so that every other girl on earth has a chance to just Dream. Oh and they still usually die young. But that’s ok because then she takes them and lets them sleep peacefully forever in her Heaven Basement (Yes I am bitter stan Homura I would yank this savior complex infant girl out the sky too)
MY POINT BEING (The servers closing let me BLEED OUT ALL MY FEELINGS) This event did not do that!!! It made Madoka…….. EVERYTHING SHE SHOULD BE??? ALWAYS??? Showed her HOW WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO VIEW HER??? (Read: Happy and Alive and Confident at no foreboding or sacrifice of anyone else!!!!)
She is Sassy and Surrounded By Friends and Really Funny??? And we get this Ridiculous Oh My God On Crack metaphor about her being this all-powerful apocalypse bringing being which is representing her love for the universe through her Witch form of Wanting Everyone To Be Happy And Safe With Her??? And she still risks herself to save everyone as is her Thing to do but we get to have her do it without erasing her existence as a human being at the end and if that is not some GOOD SHIT????
Ok next:
NGL Sayaka’s (fav character, inarguable best girl, can u not tell) parts in MagiReco til like the last arc have always left me a bit disappointed. She was the only late comer of the OG girls from what I understand and it kind of gives her the air of what a lot of the second(/thirdary?) girls suffer from. You can tell the writers can’t even figure out a trope to apply her to to make her easy and two dimensional to write about so they just don’t know what to do. They definitely try to make up for it (especially in the anime which Praise Be but that’s probably Inu Currys doing) but she’s still lacking like, any of the depth of her personality. Which, I guess I could anticipate. Because most of the fandom tends to as well. (again)
Gonna stop complaining and get on with- That didn’t feel as much the case in her Valentine event. Sure it was still the same formula of “The Issue Is Kyosuke” but that didn’t play out as grueling as her personal story did with “Nine Episodes Of “The Issue Is Kyosuke””
There was one big glaring heart-aching detail of “Mami isn’t really there because SHES IN A FUCKING CULT RIGHT NOW” which kind of jarred the event out of the ho-hum silly valentines sidestory these events usually keep up.
Sayaka has this crisis about Doing Anything Meaningful With Kyosuke which we all know what That’s calling back to, but in this environment we get to have Kyoko come right up and be in a position with her to earnestly and affectionately Push Her To Do It. The lonely little tsundere bitch girl pushes her Not Friend to Give The Bastard The Gotdamn Chocolate Already and for a moment you can only think about What If’s and If Only’s. Sayaka’s is still the weakest of the threes stories in this event but it worked harder to show us different sides of the characters then 6 chapters of Another Story managed to do.
And then there’s fucking Homura.
I will be, eternally grateful for Kuro. As a character that becomes metaphorical for the 2D ways we initially viewed the feathers and just NPCs in games in general, and also like, giving Homura a friend she actually cares about that isn’t the tangled dark web of Bullshit she’s gotten tied up with Madoka in. Please ask me about all my AU’s where Kuro is Homuras first girlfriend.
Seeing Moemura in Magia Record has always been a bit surreal, we never really understand just what stage of Trauma this Homura is in because Multiverses Are Hell, but this event gives us a good chunk of a Homura who still has hope and faith both in the world and Madoka. Theres this wonder to her that while still bogged down by terrible experiences still has the energy to be Trying. And she sees a girl who used to be like her- which when you think about it is probably what Madoka saw in her- and she wants to help. Because Madoka helped her. And Madoka is the best thing in the universe and maybe Homura can be just a little bit closer to that.
Kuro is too far gone though, as is the reality frequently in this series, things don’t work out just because of circumstance. Kuro was a bullied, insecure little girl who realistically shouldn’t have had to become a rampaging monster because of it. We’re reminded of this being the reality of the Madoka universe. Homura, is reminded of this reality. Homura loses this one chance to bring hope into the world like Madoka brought hope into hers.
And then her story ties into the ending of Madoka’s. Madoka saves her life yet again, even as Homura continues to feel miserable and empty. But at least Madoka is with her. The girls then share a quiet, intimate Valentines together. And you sort of understand how Homura fell so far into the darkness that the only thing she was able to still care about and fight for was Madoka’s safety.
That shit slaps. It slaps you right in the heart and causes fucking bruising but then u want it to do it again because you’re masochistic and Meguca Is Suffering.
Anyway I hope Kuroe slaps our hearts more in season2
MOVING ON!!!!
~Nagisa’s Wish~
Ok, I don’t remember what got me so simp over Nagisa, I think it was the heart-aching irony that Mami adopts the witch that fucking ate her. But that is my baby now and I’d die for her. Fandom Charlotte whose pink and silly and loves her mom and is Mami’s cancer-riddled girlfriend is cool and all but she isn’t a tiny Halloweeny baby whose fucking bitter angry and manically obsessed with cheese due to PTSD.
I had saw a summary of Nagisa’s Wish reposted just to quickly explain Nagisa’s backstory, and as such immediately had to search out if that crazy ride was true- so I actually watched this whole event probably before I downloaded the game. It was surreal on its own but replaying it when it came to NA didn’t lessen it any- I got to process more of what I was witnessing and as result stanned Yu pretty hard.
I guess to explain my Emotions here, saving Yu for later- calls for me to just, describe who Nagisa is as a human being and my headcanons surrounding it all with what this event gave us. Whether you consider it canon or not it’s one version of events that we were given and that I am all for accepting.
Nagisa’s Mom was a celebrity, she could have been an actress though I also like the idea of her being an Idol. She met Nagisa’s Dad oh-so romantically and got knocked up- they very well could have been married but it doesn’t seem clear enough. He seems to have left too suddenly for legal matters like that. Nagisa is approximately 11, and while she seems to remember her Father, she doesn’t in the sense of having had a relationship with him or any feelings. Her Mother has to “explain” why he left, so Nagisa was probably still young even if not a baby. What I’m getting at here is the timeline for when Nagisa’s Mom Got Like That. Nagisa can remember her from before she was, and then says that she got sick after her Dad left. So what I’m wondering is did Daddy Momoe ruin this young rich girls life, give her syphilis and then leave her with a baby she was unfit to care for in poverty? I know half of this is running on anime logic but Holy Shit all the possible ways reasons and ideas for why things could’ve gotten This Bad.
Is it ridiculously dark and edgy that the original story we were given was “Girl wishes her dying mother could have her favorite cake but then realizes OOPSIE-DAISY I could have wished for her to Not Die instead!!!!” got turned into “11yr old hates her abusive mother so much she wants to make her suffer in the most symbolic way she can and then goes mental when she isn’t able to do it”??? Yes. But if I had the mental capacity to I have to admit I was in a position to be just as bitter at that age too. I can’t call it unrealistic. I may infact be projecting hard with how much I support and enjoy this backstory.
Anyway Nagisa was in such a state of trauma and distress at a horrifically young age when she died that it broke her mental faculties so severely that even when she came back as a literal Angel of God she had blocked it out so deeply and thoroughly she seemingly regressed to an even younger capacity and hyperfixated on the trait that she has before used to try to bond with her Mother who she had died hating.
And that also slaps u right in the heart.
A N D T H E N !
~Beachside Bonds~
Just the simple structure of this story was so enjoyable and nicely done. We finally get to see the OG girls in a context we wouldn’t be able to in literally any other scenario. They’re going on a summer vacation together and Homura is sentimentally journaling every single second of it. Is this mayhaps because she’s never gotten to be this happy and blissful with these girls she loves so much??? Of course this is are you not paying attention what the fuck. Homura is so optimistic and healed and hopeful she’s acting like what she might actually be doing as a normal teenage girl. (A heartrending contrast to the end of her Valentines Special)
We get nothing short of pure fluffy Slice Of Life shenanigans on the beach which even includes a bunch of the Kamihama girls that the OG crew knows! And they talk about it! And introduce eachother! And their friends commentate on it! Ren gets to see Kyoko Not Being A Bitch and then Sayaka teases her about having made friends and oh my god my heart is turning into cottoncandy as we speak Mom holy FUCK
Sayaka’s existence fucking matters in this story! It’s her families Hotel they’re staying at and she has relationships and memories with the creepy twins that live there and she talks like a fucking person??? And gives opinions??? That aren’t just copypasted “Justice is Good and Bad things are BAD!!!!”
Mami is fresh out of her fucking Cult Drama and she’s still trying to be cool Senpai but then she DECKS Homura in the face and gets scared by the ghost stories and then turns into pudding and waxes nostalgia at Kyoko out of nowhere IT’S ALMOST LIKE SHE’S A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL????????
G H O S T S ? ? ? ?
Y U ! ? ! ? ! ? !
(IS G A Y ! ! ! !)
This whole fucking backstory and truly horrifying Romeo and Juliet on Acid love and death story between Yu and her girlfriend and like if I wasn’t fascinated enough by Yu just being the creepy organ harvester before but apparently thats what she became after she literally made some sort of wish that erased all of her memories besides the nickname her sweetheart used for her and coincidentally also added to her the task of killing all Bad People?????
Yu made a wish to be able to get rid of All Bad People preserving the innocent version of herself who grew up with this girl and it was right after a failed double suicide attempt on fucking Doomed Lovers Cliff fucking Lifetime Will You Ever.
It then pairs with Homura whose PTSD gets to shine through a bit in being unable to believe any bad sort of Madoka which how could you try to force her to at this point while Also pairing Homura with Ren in the “Gay Love Saved Our Lives: Traumatized vers & Vanilla vers”
I don’t remember if there was a symbolic finale and tbh I have forgotten a lot of the details with Yu and her girlfriend Whatsherface because that shit was just so shocking and bizarre to read and much too painful to reread in a timely fashion just.
That shit hurted but it was full of so much love and hope both doomed and stolen but still was wrapped up in the comforting concept that This Is The Universe Where Homura Gets To Be Okay This Time.
She’s still scarred beyond comprehension and this ghost drama accentuated it all but at the end of the day this is still the Safe Universe where all of them are alive and the Holy Quintet are friends and they’re all going to be okay (Godoka & Aniplex willing) and so many of us love Madoka Magica because it shows girls fighting through the same pain we’ve been through and keeping their hope alive and here we get to see them actually find peace in a clunkily written fanservicey spin-off mobile gacha game and hey, that made me happy while I got to experience it. Thanks for the ideas and memories and tragic backstories and funny thirdary characters MagiReco I’m gonna take em all and Run.
Akjsladbfalkjfsbslk If you read this all without getting a migraine or blocking me ily thanks for listening!!!!!!
TL;DR
Me likey A La Carte Valentine bc it’s silly and gay and I simp Kuro
Me likey Nagisa’s Wish bc sawft baby is good and so are Tragic Edgy Backstories
Me likey Beachside Bonds bc Gay Ghosts and Our Girls Finally Get To Be Happy Peaceful(ish) Teenage Girls and that’s all I want for them ;w;
Reeses In Pieces ya’ll
1Ten 2More 3Words 4To 5Hit 6(3000 7Words 8Woo 9Boy 10Howdy
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darkblueboxs · 4 years
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howdy i love your aftg writing!! here’s a concept: i feel like once neil’s past is out, he has no reason to hesitate absolutely sucker punching someone. like we know he made neil a pushover because it raises less questions, but now that everyone knows who he is im SURE he’s just bitch slapped someone mid-game. no holding back, like if u say something fucked up he’s just gonna try to kill you!! do you know who this man is?? there’s no doubt in my mind that he knows some quick and lethal punches!
Oh yes, anon. Bruiser!Neil I can DEFO get behind. 
Here’s 3k of Neil punching stuff, and Andrew being wildly turned on by it. Read here or on AO3 (Check AO3 notes for content warnings, etc.)
*Edit* : In the original version of this fic, Nicky faces racist abuse in addition to homophobic abuse, and quotes the offensive language and slurs used against him. After concerns were raised regarding how I handled this abuse (specifically, the language used, the context in which the abuse takes place, and my position as a non-latine) I censored and subsequently removed the relevant dialogue. I sincerely apologise and promise to do better in the future. Please don't hesitate to contact me with any questions and concerns regarding this subject.
[01/06/2020]
All the Guys Love a Bruiser
Neil’s mother taught him how to throw a punch, of course she did. Their lessons took place anywhere spacious enough to swing a fist, in empty parking lots behind greasy gas stations or in dingy motel rooms if she thought the walls were thick enough to cover up the noises they made.
Mary had always been more flight than fight, an instinct she had forced into Neil over years of running. Even she had to admit, however, that sooner or later they would hit a dead end, and while that would spell certain death for both of them, it would be better to go down fighting than it would on their knees.
If their lessons ended with Neil aching black and blue, it was his own fault. He needed to be quicker, smarter, crueller. More like his mother.
Matt’s teaching style is different from Mary’s, as is his fighting style. It bears the hallmarks of professional athleticism, all stances and positioning and strategy. While his mother’s idea of a lesson in self-defence was to hit Neil until he figured out how to dodge her blows or hit back, Matt talks him through how to angle his body, how to make a fist in a way that won’t break his fingers. At the end of their first boxing lesson, the only bruises on Neil’s body are the light purple spreading across his knuckles.
That evening, he and Andrew take over the beanbags, TV muted in the background while they dig into ice-cream. The tub is pleasantly cool in Neil’s hands, and he rubs his knuckles against the sides like an improvised icepack. When the residual cold has melted away, Neil flexes his fingers, enjoying the faint tingle dancing across them. These marks are different from those his mother gave him; they weren’t inflicted on him unwillingly but earned with sweat and exertion. When Matt had let go of the punching bag and told him they were done for the day, Neil had been surprised by his own disappointment. He had never been sorry see the end of his mother’s lessons.
Andrew takes his hand suddenly, startling Neil from his thoughts. It’s a purely analytical touch; he turns Neil’s hand over and runs a finger across the blossoming bruises of his knuckles.
Neil bites back the I’m fine, knowing the look it would earn him. Instead he says, “I had fun. We’re meeting again next week.”
Andrew nods. It’s a few moments more before he relinquishes Neil’s hand, however. The heat of Andrew’s skin mingles with the singing twinge of Neil’s bruises like an after-print.
Next week, Andrew slouches into the gym after Neil. He ignores Matt’s invitation to join them, flopping onto a rowing machine and leaning back against the machinery so he can kick his feet up on the seat rail. They’re lucky that they chose unsociable hours for their workout, or a line of athletes would be forming to glare at him.
Andrew watches them train from across the room with apparent disinterest. He can feign boredom all he likes; Neil knows he wouldn’t have bothered following him to the gym without reason.
Matt, if anything, seems amused by Andrew’s presence. “Dan comes to watch me practice sometimes, too.” He pauses to correct the angles of Neil’s feet before nudging his arms into blocking positions. “She did it even before we started dating. She used to sit on an exercise bike and pretend she was cycling so I wouldn’t know she was there to watch me. It was never very convincing.”
“Why did she want to watch you?” Neil shifts his weight, trying to copy Matt’s position.
Matt’s face crinkles up with laughter. “That’s the most Neil thing you’ve ever said.”
“Everything I say is a Neil thing.”
“She liked it when I took my shirt off. C’mon, man, join the dots.”
“You don’t take your shirt off to box.”
“Yeah,” says Matt. “Don’t tell her that.”
Neil rolls his eyes. “Can I hit you now?”
Matt barks out a laugh, and training resumes.
“Enjoying the show?” Neil asks Andrew an hour later, dropping down on the gym mat next to him. Andrew hands Neil his water bottle with an unimpressed look.
“You’re awful.” Andrew flicks a look over to Matt, who is using their break to chat with the only other gym regular insane enough to be working out at the crack of dawn on a Sunday. “He could knock you on your ass with one right hook.”
“I know I’m awful. That’s what training is for.” Neil pauses to gulp down most of the bottle. A droplet escapes his lips and tracks down his jugular before falling into the dip of his clavicle. Andrew’s eyes track its path. “Matt isn’t going to hurt me. Is that what you’re worried about?”
“I’m not here to babysit you.”
“Huh.” Neil drains the last of the water before shaking the residual droplets over his head. The beads glint in the corners of his vision as they catch in his bangs and fleck his cheeks, mercifully cooling against his skin. Andrew is still watching him intently. His eyes flick to Matt once more, checking that he is still absorbed in his conversation.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes,” Neil replies, and he watches as Andrew takes Neil’s hand in his. The skin is flushed from strike after strike, not yet coloured in bruising patches but soon to be. Neil’s hands feel softer for it, sensitive to Andrew’s touch.
“I know my limits.” Neil isn’t sure why the gym suddenly feels three degrees warmer. “Really, it doesn’t hurt.”
“I know. I trust you.” Andrew sends one more look over Neil’s shoulder like he’s checking the coast is clear before pressing Neil’s knuckles to his lips.
The breath Neil was in the process of catching slips from his grasp entirely. “Oh.”
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“You like watching me fight.”
“It’s more interesting than watching you run.”
Neil leans in until he can see each individual freckle on Andrew’s cheeks. “Interesting?”
Andrew’s cool look is betrayed by the twitch of his jaw. “Something like that.”
If Matt notices Neil’s new vigour when they return to practice, he doesn’t comment on it. When he catches Neil’s eye, however, he grins knowingly. Perhaps Matt’s conversation had not been as absorbing as he made it out to be. Soon, however, the rhythm of the exercise draws Neil’s attention back to the task at hand.
Neil first learned to throw a punch because his mother believed that one day his life could depend on it. That isn’t the reason that he has resumed his training with Matt; it turns out that a good instructor and fewer death threats make the activity far more pleasant than Neil remembers. It may be a useful skill, but he values the challenge more than he does the practicality. The physicality, too – in fact, he likes boxing for the same reasons that he loves Exy. Quick, brutal, thrilling. He finally understands, too, why Andrew likes to spar with Renee whenever his emotions get on top of him. There’s a certain a sense of control that comes from putting his fist through a break-board. Not that he needs the empowerment as much as he once might have – most of Neil’s tormentors were killed long ago, his fears with them. Given his new life of safety and security, it’s likely that he’ll never really need to know how to throw a good punch.
It takes all of one week for Neil to be proven wildly, wildly wrong.
Opposition strikers – with one glaring, now very dead exception – are not typically Neil’s problem. Generally, if they end up playing on the same side of the court as him, something has gone wrong in the team’s strategies.
He can tell even from a distance, however, that one of the Terrapin strikers is causing difficulties. Not in terms of ability – of which Terrapin’s #13 has little – but in attitude. Thirteen is a vocal player, and Neil can hear snatches of his voice echoing across the court. No fists have been swung, which is an impressive feat for the Fox defenders, but perhaps only because the luck of substitutions has put Thirteen against Nicky more than anyone else, and Nicky is more likely to react to insults with mirth than anger.
Shortly before the end of the first half, Nicky is subbed off at the same time as Thirteen. Nicky passes Neil on the way to the court doors, clacking their racquets together with half a smile. “Give them hell, Neil.”
Thirteen passes them at the same moment, slamming Nicky’s shoulder as he passes. Nicky mutters a word under his breath that would have earned him a month of washing-up duty at Abby’s house before heading for the Foxes’ bench. Neil watches him go, eyebrows creasing together. Nicky isn’t easily upset by the cruelty of strangers; it’s the cruelty that comes from within his own family that is most likely to shake him from his good humour. The barbed insults of nameless players on the court, on the other hand, are usually brushed off with a rude gesture and no more.
Swept up in the rush of the match, Neil forgets about Nicky’s discomfort until half-time. The team pours from the court in high spirits; they have a decent lead over the Terrapins which should carry them through the second half when exhaustion starts to kick in. Nicky, despite having blocked more shots on goal than anyone, reacts to the arrival of the rest of the team with only a pallid grin. His grip on his water bottle is tight, and the cheap plastic crackles and caves in his hands.
Nicky is an easy read, and it doesn’t take long for the other Foxes to notice. After he brushes Renee’s concerned enquiry off, however, the team leaves him be.
When Neil returns to the court for the start of the third quarter, he breathes a sigh of relief to see that Thirteen is nowhere near Nicky. He’s standing closer to goal than Neil is happy with, but Andrew is more or less impervious to verbal abuse and Thirteen has yet to show signs of physical violence. As much as he wants to keep a closer eye on the situation, Kevin’s barked commands draw his attention to the match at hand. The best thing Neil can do for the Foxes’ defence is to spend as much time lobbing the ball at the Terrapin’s goal as possible.
Neil and Nicky are substituted at the same time; they collapse onto the bench and drown their exhaustion in Gatorade. Thirteen crushed Nicky against the wall moments before the substitution, and Nicky is uncharacteristically quiet as Abby examines the cut over his eye.
“You’re not whining about cramping your style,” she says as she presses a plaster in place. “Should I be worried?”
“Nah, this is great for my style. All the guys love a bruiser.” Nicky winks despite the blood crusting in his eyelashes. “Neil knows what I’m talking about, don’tcha, Neil?”
Abby makes a noise that isn’t convinced, but doesn’t press the issue. Neil waits until she’s out of earshot before saying casually, “I still have a few contacts in the mafia.”
“Your sense of humour is dire,” says Nicky, but he’s grinning, so Neil counts it as a win. “Don’t worry about it. I think Andrew’s drawing his fire now. Andrew handles that kind of thing a lot better than me.”
“What kind of thing?”
Nicky winced. “Don’t ask.”
“Tell me.”
“Let's just say he isn't exactly lining up to lead a Pride march.” Nicky snorts humorlessly.
The joke doesn’t land, and not because of Neil’s non-existent sense of humour. He may not be as obvious as Nicky in his preferences nor as dark-skinned, but he has still been on the receiving end of enough of that brand of bullshit to know how it scratches at one’s insides.
“I wasn’t joking about those contacts.”
Nicky sighs. “I was worried you would say that.”
Neil’s attention keeps slipping from the game and over to Andrew, who is standing in goal and ignoring the tirade of insults being thrown his way like a statue facing down a breeze. His non-reaction only seems to stoke Thirteen’s fury, spittle catching in the mesh of his helmet as he watches Andrew knock yet another attempt away from the Foxes’ end.
Andrew spares Thirteen no more than a second of blank indifference in the face of his tirade. Then he drops his stance, shoulders setting into a silent challenge that sends a hot bolt of excitement straight Neil’s to gut. Andrew is locking down the goal.
The Terrapins don’t score again for the rest of the match.
Neil is through the doors before the final buzzer has died, charging into the crush of Foxes at centre-court to join in their celebrations. Andrew, as usual, hovers at the edge of the throng, but he accepts the clack of Neil’s racquet against his. A light sheen of sweat dances across Andrew’s forehead and his lips are parted as he regains his breath after the exertion of locking the Terrapins out.
“Did Thirteen give you trouble?”
Andrew snorts derisively despite his breathlessness. “He tried.”
Neil gets to see Thirteen up close during the handshakes. He barely grazes the tips of each Foxes’ fingers as he passes one by one, but he stops when he gets to Neil. “I remember you. You were all over the news, weren’t you? The runaway Wesninski.” His expression speaks to his delight at the revelation. To no-one’s surprise, Thirteen is a sore loser.
Andrew barely moves, just a slight adjustment to his footing so that he presses a little closer into Neil’s shoulder.
Neil smiles. It is the kind of smile he has not had use for in some time. “Looking for an autograph?”
Thirteen snorts. “Bet you think you’re real bad. Bet you think those scars make you look tough. Too bad you’re still a puny little bitch.”
Neil flexes his hand before clenching it into a fist. “I do think I’m real bad, actually. Want to find out why?”
The striker waits for the hit to come. Neil doesn’t give him the satisfaction; the guy is a piece of shit, but he isn’t worth the trouble he’s clearly looking for. Neil drops his hands, meets his gaze, and waits for him to give up on getting his reaction and leave.
Most of the other players are moving off to their own respective sides, and their stand-off is beginning to attract attention. Kevin squints over at them, and at his side, Aaron pulls off his helmet.
“Oh shit. Twins.” Thirteen’s gaze swings from Aaron to Andrew, flashing with sudden recognition. “I remember you too.” His expression turns sharkish. “Now that was a story. So, which one is the murderer, and which is the brother-fucker?”
Andrew barely twitches. Neil’s reaction is less restrained.
It’s almost a play-by-play of decking Riko at the Winter Banquet.  The key difference between that punch and this one is hours of training with a borderline-professional boxer.
Neil squares his stance, draws back his fist, and puts his whole body behind the punch. He’s rewarded with the sickening crack of a nose breaking and a hot spurt of blood splattering his knuckles.
Thirteen staggers back, shock registering for a second before he spits blood at the floor. He’s swaying on his feet, but there’s still fight in his eyes.
Andrew’s hands go to his sheaths, but Neil waves him back. He wipes the hand bloodied by Thirteen’s face across his jaw unthinkingly, feels the wet, red heat clinging to his skin. “Hey. This one’s mine.” The smile he tacks onto the words is toothier than he means it to be. With blood still smeared across his chin, he can only imagine how he looks.
Andrew’s hand judders to a halt at the hems of his armbands. His jaw is clenched tight but roaring over the current of concern is something far darker. It creeps into his eyes, a weight to his gaze normally only visible in the privacy of their bedroom. Andrew’s gaze runs the length of Neil’s body before coming to rest on Neil’s mouth. His bottom lip catches momentarily in his teeth as he nods.
Thirteen’s first swing hits, and a burst of blood dances across Neil’s tongue as his lip is split open. Thirteen’s luck ends there; Neil blocks his second punch with a move Matt taught him the day before. He drives his free hand into Thirteen’s solar plexus, knocking the air from him.
Neil doesn’t get much time to appreciate how the striker falls on his ass as they’re rushed by teammates and officials who break them apart.
Neil stands placidly before Wymack and bears his row with the bare minimum of decorum. The lecture is undercut by Nicky, who’s expression alternates between elation, amusement and mock disapproval from moment to moment. Matt, at least, waits until Wymack is finished before applauding.
“I’ll give you some notes later, but all things considered it was a solid right hook.”
Neil brushes the team’s reactions off as best he can; he certainly didn’t do it for their recognition.
He takes his time showering, watching with a strange, sick pleasure as he rinses the striker’s blood away. It turns pink in the shower basin before swirling at last down the drain. Beneath the blood, Neil’s knuckles have begun to bruise, satisfaction burning them blue.
It’s at these times that Neil worries that he may have inherited too much from his father; the temper, the violence, the bloodlust. Then again, they all served as tools to his survival at one point or another. The key difference between Neil and his father is who they choose to turn their anger on. Neil’s father always set his sights on the underdog. Neil prefers to punch up.
No; if there’s one thing Nathan gave him, it was a distaste for bullies.
There’s a familiar tap at the door to Neil’s stall. The rest of the Foxes cleared out some time ago, still rowdy from the post-match high. Tonight was a home game; most of the team will be halfway back to Fox tower already, thinking only of booze and the weekend stretching ahead of them. There’s only one player who would have any reason to linger.
Andrew steps under the spray, his hair is plastered to his head by the steamy drizzle. He holds his hand out, and Neil offers his without question for Andrew’s inspection.
Andrew’s voice is dispassionate as he inspects the damage. “I don’t need a knight in shining armour. Nor for you to fight my battles for me.”
“The fight was for my own satisfaction. But I’ll stop if you want me to.”
Once again, Andrew presses his lips to Neil’s raw knuckles. The contact stings, sweet and savoury, pleasure and pain. “Would it kill you to make life easy for once?” The words tingle against the tender skin.
“I thought you liked to watch me fight.”
“Just because I find your stupidity entertaining doesn’t mean I encourage it.”
“It’s my stupidity you like, is it?”
“What else do you have?” Andrew’s eyes track the rivulets of water snaking down Neil’s neck.
“I’m sure I can think of a few things.” Neil says. Then, for clarity, “Yes or no?”
“Yes.” Andrew doesn’t let go of Neil’s hand, thumb running across the reddening knuckles once more before leading it to his chest. Neil leaves it resting there, marvelling at the colours bleeding between them under the shower’s onslaught, pink and brown and red and blue. Andrew soon tires of Neil’s staring, and is the first to bridge the gap between them.
Neil once compared Andrew’s kisses to a fight with their lives on the line. Countless kisses later, this fact has not changed in the slightest. Andrew leaves a bruising trail of kisses across Neil’s neck until he can’t remember which marks are from Exy and which are from Andrew. They all sting the same, sweet way.
Each kiss pressed to his mouth carries a metallic tang from Neil’s burst lip. He can tell from the fierce pressure of Andrew’s mouth against his that Andrew can taste it too, is feeding off the adrenaline rush just as Neil is. He catches Neil’s bottom lip between his teeth and with it sucks a groan from deep in Neil’s chest.
Andrew draws back to level him with an unimpressed look. “You’re far too into this.”
“You’re one to talk.” Neil raises his hand to Andrew’s eyeline, wiggling his fingers. Andrew’s eyes catch on the blooming violet patches. “You like this. Admit it.”
Andrew steps forward until his cheek brushes Neil’s fingers. Neil turns his hand automatically, cupping Andrew’s face.
“Yes,” says Andrew. His eyes stay on Neil’s, even as Neil’s hand drops lower.
It’s a small miracle, Neil thinks, that Andrew can trust Neil’s hands on him, after all he knows they are capable of. Maybe that’s part of the appeal, the evidence painted into Neil’s knuckles that Neil’s gentler touches are reserved for Andrew and Andrew alone. It’s strange that Andrew should love Neil’s fighting spirit as much as he does. After all, it was Andrew who taught Neil how to stand and fight in the first place.
It’s a fact that neither will ever let the other forget.
Neil leaves the shower sporting several more bruises than he entered with. Some are from Exy, some are from fighting, and some are from Andrew’s mouth.
He loves them all just the same.
 * Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! Still open to prompts etc.
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You mentioned some shared experience with JJ? What happened (if u dont mind me asking)
Ah yeah, that... Well, it’s a bit personal but I don’t mind sharing! It does involve eating disorders though, so I’ll just keep talking under the cut.
Alrighty. So, this isn't something I talk about often, but I do think it needs to be addressed, for multiple reasons. One reason being the stereotype that only white girls have eating disorders. Neither Jamie nor I are white girls (obviously), and we've dealt with crippling issues along these lines.
Anyway. For context, I'll talk about my original battle first. I've never had a straightforward relationship with food. For me, it's always been too much. When I first started falling into bad habits, I was just starting highschool. I'd been working out for a couple years before, but it just got more and more intense once highschool hit. I could probably make a whole other post on the reasons why I fell into a disorder in the first place, honestly. I started doing less stamina workouts and more fat loss/muscle gain. I started eating just a little bit less every week, just enough so i wouldn't tip off my family. I was losing so much weight, and I felt really good. But it never felt like enough. No matter how much I lost, I was always able to find that one spot that had too much fat, or the one spot that wasn't enough muscle. I was never satisfied with how I looked. Surprisingly, my parents never fully caught on until I'd moved out. They had their suspicions, but never acknowledged them. In any case, I'd moved out, and into an apartment with Marv and Henrik. The two of them had noticed from the beginning, and were constantly trying to make sure I was taking care of myself. Obviously I'd lie, say that I was fine, that I've definitely eaten today. It wasn't until I passed out on a dual patrol with Marv that I realized how little I actually knew about what I was doing to myself. After so many years of doing this to my body, I honest to God thought Henrik was gonna say that I've ruined it. But I hadn't. Not yet. Recovery was a bitch, and it involed many restless hours of not working out, lots of guilt after eating something anywhere close to a normal portion, and so on. Eventually, I was up to a healthy weight. My old superhero suit didn't fit me anymore, so I had to get a new one. I kept the old one though, thinking it would remind me of how far I've come. After around a year of recovering, I'd gone out parkouring near the skate park because I needed to do something. I wasn't allowed to go alone, so Marv had tagged along to make sure I didn't fall back into old behaviors after all of my hard work. This is actually when I met Chase! I'll spare you the lame, cheesy details, but we got to talking, and somehow I ended up accidentally giving him the opportunity to compliment me, which he did. Hearing a genuine compliment from someone I barely knew was almost enough to just make me cry, right there. And I almost did, too, but I'm under just enough control of my emotions to not start bawling in public, haha.
I got a little sidetracked there, whoops. But that's my fight. Now onto Jamie, and the shared experience we had.
When Jamie came to us, he was fucked up. We knew he'd be in a bad state, considering we literally just tore him out of Anti's grip without warning, but nobody was expecting him to be in quite as bad of a state. He really struggled with eating, but most of us just played it off as anxiety or something. But something that Anti did to him must have lead him to believe he wasn't worthy of eating, or something similar, because some of his behaviors seemed all too familiar. I noticed the look on his face when he ate, and I remember having made that exact one countless times. When he walked past a mirror, I saw how he quickly glanced, making sure he still looks "skinny enough." He started wearing baggier clothes, hiding as much of his body as he could. What really broke me, what made me feel just so awful for not stepping in earlier, and so so awful for Jamie, was when I caught him actually body-checking. His fingers were wrapped around his wrist and he was so caught up in whatever fat he saw in the mirror that he didn't even hear me approach him. I don't have many specific memories of things any of us said during this period, but I'll always remember that I said "Whatever you see, it isn't there. You're perfect exactly the way you are." I think that moment was the one that really started that bond between us.
Another event that strengthened our bond was our first relapses. The one downside of living with another person going through the same shit as you is that when one gets hit, you feed off of each other and you both end up in a bad space. I relapsed first. I don't even remember what triggered it, but the entire time I just felt like I wasn't really in control of it. It just took over, and I was along for the ride. I tried my best to keep it a secret, keeping my schedule the same, any extra workouts were done in the privacy of my room. This me was determined to be able to fit back into my old suit. Everything was going as planned, I was losing weight fast, and all I got was the occasional "You okay?" from the guys. Until stupidly, I left the scale out. Henrik had taken out the batteries and put it out of sight when both of us had recovered, just as a caution. I'd been using it for some time now, but I was usually pretty good about putting it back. I must have gotten an emergency call or something though, because I never put it back. When I get back, I start to my room and hear Jamie crying. So I knock on his door to announce that I'm opening it, and I see him sitting on his bed, his fingers around his wrist. I know immediately that it's my fault, and all I can do is pull him into a tight hug and apologize. We talk for a while about what the hell we're dealing with, and promise each other that we'll tell the guys ourselves this time. That didn't happen until a few weeks later (happy birthday Chase, your friends are relapsing), but we told them and they're doing more for us than we could ever have asked for.
As of right now, Jamie and I are both still working on recovering, but we're both in a really good space.
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dragimal · 4 years
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Longform Audio Creepypasta Recs
hey TMA fandom! as a new TMA listener but looooongtime creepypasta fan, I find it rly cool that ppl who aren’t into horror are getting into TMA! I’m hoping this will help bring fresh blood (hah) to the horror fandom, so if you’ve realized that you rather like audio horror but don’t know what else to look into, I’m here to recommend my favorite longform creepypasta narrations! 
this is far from an exhaustive list of long creepypastas, but I just want to introduce some of the stories I consider to be the best of the genre. and while I’m just reccing longform in this post, there are plenty of short one-shots I could rec if anyone wants to ask me abt a specific theme/Entity or even a specific ep of TMA (there are several MAG eps that brought me straight back to a specific creepypasta or two, lmao)
also, I’ll just be linking to MrCreepyPasta’s narrations b/c I’m heavily biased so I mostly listen to him, but there are plenty of other great narrators out there like CreepsMcPasta, CreepypastaJr, etc. (most of their names are variations on a theme asdfgh). and if u just want the text version of any of these, every video I link has a link in its own description back to the original text posting of the story
THAT outta the way, here are my recs! I’ll try to remember all the trigger warnings I can, but keep in mind I tend to be p hardy to most horror content, so there may be some things that slip past simply b/c they don’t register to me. also it’s been a minute since I’ve listened to some of these, so some have updated or I may have just forgotten some aspects. I’ll also update this if ppl find it useful and I find more good long pastas~
Penpal (2.5 hrs, complete)
op recounts some of their odd experiences as a child, all of which stem from an elementary school project involving a pen pal. as he recalls these experiences, a horrifying picture of his past begins to emerge...
easily my favorite pasta of all time-- and that’s saying something, considering there are some damn good recs here. it’s one of the first I read so long ago, and few have come close to what this one made me feel. op does an incredible job of capturing the nostalgia and childhood wanderlust of youth, and the last few lines of each chunk of the story hit like a goddamned truck-- esp "Friends”, I cry like a baby every time, it just.... hits something tender in me...
TW: stalking of children, subsequent kidnapping and child abuse at the end (and while it’s not necessarily *confirmed*, heavy implications of child sexual abuse, for that last bit). implied cat death. some graphic description of the victim of a hit-and-run
Search and Rescue Woods (~5 hrs, ongoing?)
op recalls several of the strange and disturbing experiences (their own and quoted from coworkers) of working search-and-rescue for an unnamed national forest in the US
y’know that feeling u get when u see photos lawn chairs just sitting at the bottom of the ocean? even if there’s a perfectly good explanation for why they’re there, it’s still haunting b/c it feels wrong to see them there, in that context? that’s basically this entire assortment of stories-- the obvious example being the stairs, of course, but even a lot of the human elements feel so out of place and wrong. if you’re a fan of Spiral-type horror w/ a hard edge of Stranger, this is the story for u
TW: generally clinical but graphic descriptions of mutilated bodies. use of the r-slur against an nd individual (it’s during a story that the main character is quoting from a different one-off character, so it thankfully only happens the one time..). child death, in certain stories. some wild animal death
Borrasca (2.5 hrs, complete)
Sam moves to a small mountain town with his family after his father’s job relocates them. he hears some spooky legends about the town, but doesn’t think much of them... that is, until his sister disappears. as Sam and his friends dig deeper into the town’s history to find any clues to his sister’s disappearance, they begin to realize there’s something deeply deeply wrong with their quaint little home
I’ve always loved horror that’s ‘mundane’ enough to be done by regular humans, but vague enough that it could actually be supernatural, under the right circumstances-- and this is one of those mysteries that keeps u guessing until the VERY end. my mind felt like that Pepe Silvia corkboard meme the first time I listened to this, I was losin’ it. this is also prolly one of my favorite examples of MCP’s talent as a narrator, b/c he adds in his own subtle foreshadowing with his voicework, and it blows my mind every time I listen to it again
also worth mentioning there’s a (3.5 hr) sequel! since the horror/mystery is basically done after the first one, the sequel is mostly suspense/thriller and character closure. if ur just here for the horror/mystery and the gut-punch of that first ending, then the sequel isn’t necessary. but if you want more closure for our dear sweet cast who deserve so much better, then by all means!
TW: the ending involves heavy sexual abuse (involving underage girls, no less), part of which is graphic. like I know I joke abt having to take breaks after reading emotionally exhausting stories, but I genuinely had to take a couple days of recovery after this one-- and that’s from someone who’s p hardy to all kinds of graphic content. do NOT take this warning lightly if this is a sensitive topic for you
Tales From the Gas Station (10 hrs for free, otherwise ongoing)
Jack works at a gas station at the edge of a middle-of-nowhere town. Strange things happen at the gas station-- bipedal deer stopping by for a drink, dark gods leaving vague messages, fingers growing from the ground out back, sudden lawn gnome appearances-- All just a part of the daily grind, right?
so if I wanna be totally fair, this is more a rec for Night Vale fans than anything (tho the TMA/WTNV overlap seems to be p significant). the comedic, nonchalant tone taken towards everything supernatural and horrific is p much 1:1 WTNV. I’ve genuinely cried laughing at some of the fuckshit that happens, esp anything involving Jerry. not to say that GST doesn’t have its heavy-horror moments, but the frequency is more comparable to Night Vale’s approach-- dark comedy definitely takes center stage, here. tho this also varies by the POV-- the “Finding Vanessa” arcs are told from the perspective of a more serious character, so the heavy parts are far more frequent and hit a lot harder
as for the time estimate, here’s where it gets a littleee bit complicated. the first version was put out for free, and read for free by MCP (among a few other narrators). this came out in several different parts, and the one video I linked above has compiled *most* of volume 1, but not the Halloween story, featured here. HOWEVER, the author has taken a second go at v1 and beyond, which is currently ongoing and available to buy as books or audiobooks ALSO narrated by MCP!
as for deciding which version to listen to, I’ll just try to describe the differences here. the first version was written entirely via Jack’s online forum posts, which were subject to more direct reader interaction and Jack’s scatterbrain. thus, the first version leaves a LOT more details up to reader interpretation/theorizing, straight up doesn’t have or explain certain plot arcs yet, and is very disorganized in terms of timeline all due to Jack’s canon memory issues. this all, personally, made it v fun and silly to follow, but I’m aware that’s not for everyone. the second version is written from a more standard first person narrative from Jack’s perspective. while Jack’s memory issues still make him an unreliable narrator (often *upsettingly* so in this version), the actual narrative is far more organized, complete, and easy to follow. the fun thing is that the first version can still be considered canon material to the second version, as Jack references making those very forum posts within the second version narrative. so, personally, I consider the second version to be the core cohesive story, while the first version is supplemental, fun material that provides more context for a few of the strange bits that happen in the story (like Jack’s ‘secret admirer’ makes more sense if u’ve listened to the first version). either way, the second version is the only way the story is going to continue (as far as I’m aware), so if you’re ONLY going to listen to one version of the story, listen to the second version
TW: for the first version, there are some uncomfortable jokes/implications at certain points-- associating villains/assholes with fatness and/or personality disorders is unfortunately a running theme, and a few off-color jokes are made abt some of Jack’s conditions (general mental health and his brief use of crutches). there’s also a point at which it’s implied that a specific one-off arc is a ploy to rape Jack, tho nothing actually comes of it beyond awkward scheming (but just in case, that story is specifically “Death at the Gas Station” at the very end of that long compilation, if u wanna skip it). for the second version, I believe the author was made aware of these issues and either straight-up removed or fixed most of them in some way. there’s just one point where an intentionally-questionable character uses the g*psy slur, and a few points where a regular commenter on Jack’s forum posts has w*ndigo in their username
in terms of gore for either one, uhhh maybe some descriptions of injuries? body horror? this one’s a lot harder to call for me, b/c the comedy softens the blow on a lot of the horror
Accounts From a Lonely Broadcast Station (5 hrs, ongoing)
Evelyn is the new voice of a small mountain town’s local radio station. her job is to take calls, play music (ALWAYS play the music), and broadcast emergency warnings whenever the fog rolls in from the surrounding forest. pretty standard stuff. she tries to make the most of it-- if only that damn crow with human eyes would stop watching her...
this one’s similar to Gas Station Tales with its heavy reliance on dark humor, but it takes itself a bit more seriously, with a more even split b/t genuine horror and comedy. also MCP brings in wonderful extra voice talent w/ this one, I RLY love Evelyn's va ;w;
TW: graphic descriptions of mutilation and body horror
My Friend Has Been Living in an Alternate Reality (4 hrs, complete)
op’s eccentric friend, Clint, turns up on op’s doorstep unannounced after several years missing. Clint vanishes again just as abruptly, leaving op with a journal detailing a horrifying, dangerous journey that’s almost too bizarre to believe, yet...
so this one’s more like an action/thriller with horror garnish, tbh-- very exciting and suspenseful! I love the weird, apocalyptic world Clint describes in his journals, and the societies that have cropped up around these hostile circumstances
TW: graphic descriptions of mutilation/injury
My Name is Lily Madwhip (~8 hrs, ongoing)
Lily Madwhip sees things before they happen. they’re usually horrible things like deaths and injuries that she wishes she could prevent but often can’t. at least her best friend-- an angel possessing one of Lily’s dolls-- is around to provide advice
this one’s from the perspective of a little girl, and it leans into dark humor enough to soften at least some of the more traumatic moments. Lily’s young enough that she’s somewhat removed from the full gravity of the deaths around her, but the fact that it’s happening so frequently at all seems to be warping her perspective towards death to be more... casual? is that the right word? it’s just a rly interesting perspective to see for horror. also we’ve got another rly great guest va here for Lily~
TW: brief descriptions of injury, but they’re not graphic. frequent animal death.
The Showers (2.75 hrs, complete)
op recounts a scary story he heard from a teacher back in high school about a vague location and a terrifying encounter. he later ventures to find this location to see the truth for himself, but is it worth it?
this one’s a classic-- I think it was of the first creepypasta I listened to? not this version, but I wouldn’t be able to tell u which narrator it was at the time. I won’t say that this one’s the most unique story out there, but something abt it has always stuck with me?.... idk, I think the premise rly hooks me
TW: oh god it’s been a while, but I don’t remember anything particularly triggering? maybe body horror?
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singtotheskiies · 5 years
Conversation
The Relationship Between Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell as Told in the Music of “Be More Chill,” a Discussion:
in which: i just rant about these two nerds i really love. my opinion is just that; i’m just summarizing what i hear into proof for my belief. you don’t have to agree and that’s okay:)) let’s get started!!
two-player game (the greatest friendship anthem to ever exist, honestly):
+ they literally plan on going to the same college (“soon we’ll be together where they do/‘cause guys like us are cool in college”)
+ michael’s little giggle after “is it really true i’m your favorite person??” is THE single most infatuated sound i’ve heard in my entire life
+ and jeremy’s little awkward, quick “yeah” sounds kinda like a gangly teen trying to diffuse the tension of an awkward moment with their cru—oh wait ahahahahhaha
be more chill - part 1:
+ i’ve just always found it funny that the squip has to tell jeremy to say “i was dating A GIRL” during their little round. i mean, that’s pretty obvious. we’ve already established that jeremy is holding a girl’s shirt; you don’t need to tell brooke and chloe that it reminded you of a girl. of course it would. realistically, the girls would know of him just enough to know the basic sound of his name (jerry/jeremy, whatever) and the fact that he was ALWAYS. WITH. MICHAEL. suspicious? sure; throw in a little “girl” so no questions are asked.
more than survive (reprise)- part 2:
+ michael in the bathroom theme while the squip says “i tally every time you think about SEX, and that is how many push-ups you do.” the michael in the bathroom theme plays while he’s masturbating man like that’s pretty gay
+ a reggae theme plays while jeremy sings “still not gonna be the cool guy/but maybe not so left out.” it could be just a symbolic motif for his past life, but maybe he’s feeling a tinge of regret. and if u thought THIS is touching get ready for some m e g a regret in,,,,,
upgrade:
+ in the moment jeremy makes arguably the most important decision he will in the whole musical, his sung words “i already know what it’s like to be the loser/i should find out what it’s like to not be the loser” are the same tune as the opening bit of two player game. this is showing that he’s thinking back to his (very affectionate) times with michael. he’s facing a moral dilemma here; it’s evident in his voice. he wants to be cool, but is it worth the guilt of leaving his best friend behind?? he does feel extremely guilty, if momentarily, and this shows his genuine care for michael.
michael in the bathroom hOOOO BOY:
+ i mean, for starters, if you had no context whatsoever, this sounds exactly like some kind of breakup song.
+ literally refers to himself as “half of a pair” i mean
+ “ignoring all our history?” again, language typically used in a romantic relationship
+ he’s literally so sad he wishes he had never been born like idek but that’s some dEEP-SEATED feeling right there
the play (of course):
+ that little “MICHAEL!” is the most emOtioNally charged word ever,, jeremy sounds so proud and relieved and honestly in love
+ despite everything jeremy did to michael (ignored him completely, cut him out of his life, forced him into a panic attack at the halloween party), michael still. came. to. see. his. play. thAT’S LOVE K
+ while they’re both just being amazed at each other, all the background chaos stills and that’s just beautiful honestly
+ and, of course, michael is the only person jeremy can have at his side to save the day and if that doesn’t tell you something, nothing will
extra stuff:
+ in a good-quality bootleg of the original cast (it’s since been taken down, i believe, michael tries to hold jeremy’s hand when they’re in the payless shoe store)
+ in this video with will roland as the new broadway jeremy (link here bc i’m too lazy to put it in a word https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cWYNP8Ncrz4) at 2:03 and 2:52, jeremy leans in as if to kiss michael but quickly jerks away
and let’s not forget: the litERAL CREATORS OF THE MUSICAL affirmed that 1) michael is indeed pining after jeremy the entire musical (“pLaToNiC oR rOmAnTiC yOu dEciDe”) and 2) michael is very very very likely bisexual
and so, in conclusion: these boys are v much in love and my whole heart belongs to them forever and ever amen
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bitchsexuality · 5 years
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@animaliae
ok first off i’m sorry i took so long to reply!! i’ve been busy in the most tedious way possible so my brain’s not exactly my best friend right now. second off: THANK U SO MUCH these were so fun to answer!!
i’m putting all of these in the same post because i started talking and i could not Shut The Up, and i think one atrociously long post is better than four long posts when it comes to like, scrollability. scrollpastability? scroll-Something. and putting it under a readmore too for the same reasons
SO, from top to bottom:
weirdest character idea for D-N-D:
it’s an idea i’ve already had because i can’t come up with anything right now dksjfgbd, but
once i made a druid for a D//N/D-based CRPG who only cast spells when they gave him something edible (in theory ofc, the game didn’t let me eat my summoned bears... thankfully...), so i ended up with nothing but goodberries and several animal summoning spells. then i proceeded to cheat my way through the game, which defeated the point sdfgsd, but it was still fun concept-wise
also made me spend too much time wondering if the entangle spell’s vines could be eaten. i mean you can’t eat the WHOLE thing but maybe you could like, munch on it a little, or try to slurp it up like a noodle. it wouldn’t be tasty, it wouldn’t be easy, and it most definitely would not be healthy, but it’s like. the principle of the thing 
if ur asking yourself WHY i did that… well there aren’t THAT many D/ND-based CRPGS out there and i’d already played that one —several times, in fact— so i wanted to try something different :0
i mean it’s not THAT weird tbh, but he’s the only OC i can think of right now that soooooort of fits? and my brain is like, a tundra of creativity at the moment. a deep tar pool that absorbs all inspiration and drags it, kicking and screaming, to its viscous doom. well you get the idea. or i hope you do because i sure fucking don’t
ideal ending for one of my characters:
hmmmm for like, original fiction characters i more or less have all their endings planned out? most of them ARE ideal because i am fully in control of their destinies and i am also a softhearted lidle bich who prefers stories with relatively uplifting/happy endings. or tbh even the ones that aren’t technically happy are still ideal in terms of character arcs, development, etc
(i might be giving myself way too much credit there though skdjgbdksjfg)
and —though this is super unlikely and mostly just me deceiving myself at this point— i do want to publish what i’m working on rn, so talking about endings would be a spoiler for something that does not exist and probably never will outside of my idiot fool head. so i’m gonna talk about an old OC that i’m not doing anything with anymore!
her name was elina and her entire deal was that she came from a family of very powerful witches who owned a, uh, i guess you could call it an archive? or a library?? idk, it was just an ABSURDLY large collection of magic-related books, and it pretty much contained all known arcane knowledge (though come think of it, “all known arcane knowledge” can’t have been THAT much because the archive was just one room. a huge fucking monster of a room yeah but like. still just One)
so anyway, her family members were very dutiful + responsible when it came to the archivelibraryroom thing, but they were also too traditional for her tastes? like they didn’t bother practicing/using magic, or experimenting, or looking for anything outside of books; they only cared about written things, and even then they did nothing but get the Very Important Books, put them in the archivelibraryroom and forget about them completely
then elina ran into a group of other magic-users who were investigating a weird phenomenon in her hometown, and she asked her family about it, but they essentially were like “oh if it doesn’t affect the books we don’t care lol anyway it’s your turn to clean the archivelibrary now”
but yeah i’m sure y’all can tell where this is going kjdfgbd elina was the typical YA protag in that she was super rebellious, so she turned her back on her family and left her house to help the group of inconveniently yet stereotypically teenage magic-users, made friends, learned about magic, blah blah blah
the issue is that i never gave that story an ending? like the closest thing to it was a vague “uhhhh elina goes back home to find the archivelibrary is burning down and pulls some kind of mysterious water magic out of her ass to save it; then her family apologizes, they begin to respect her and she stays with them to keep caring for the archivelibrary, But With A Progressive Twist”
the issue was that after writing around two chapters i realized i didn’t actually Have a plot, so i didn’t know what story that ending would be... ending... and since i couldn’t think of anything + i wasn’t THAT attached to the characters anyway i just gave up on it
but now that i’m thinking of it again, just for the sake of ending the Story That Never Was, i feel like making her earn the respect of her family just because she saved the books + proved she actually cares about that too is, idk, shallow? out of character? 
because she believed that her family’s fixation on history + Neatly Documented stuff was holding them back and making things worse for everyone. she left her home behind because her ideals re.: magic —that it should grow and change to fit the context + people’s needs, and not the other way around— were so strong
OOF THIS IS GETTING SO FUCKING LONG KSDJGB i’m just gonna stop here and say: elina’s new ideal ending is pretty much that while she ends up in friendly terms with her family —because, in spite of their fundamental disagreements, they never hurt her— she doesn’t go back home and chooses to travel around the world instead, helping people in whichever way possible and freely sharing her knowledge with anyone who’s willing to listen and, at the same time, learning from them
i mean, the concept’s not too original ksjdbg just something i thought of super quick, and that’s just a half-assed attempt at closure for an OC i made when i was like… 9
headcanons about my favs:
ok this one’s hard because i’m not into any like… fandom things right now? i haven’t found anything that rly interests me or that i could see myself being passionate about, which sucks because i do kinda miss being into stuff with Established Content :( 
so i’ve been focusing on my OCs + original stories and such. and i’m not sure if OC headcanons count as headcanons because i control canon so technically everything i come up with IS canon. then again it’s headcanon too because it’s a canon from my head because that’s where ideas come from. okay wait i’m not making any cents here x 
but uhh knowing me i might think of something right after publishing this, so if that happens i’ll come back and edit this post :0
also just saying but if any of y’all know of something i could get into then lmk, i’m open to suggestions! preferably free stuff though... i’m beset by capitalisms
a favorite scene that i loved:
i can’t remember any in particular right now, either from my #content or somebody else’s SDFKJGBDF god my mind 😔 well i mean i’m gonna be a little bit full of meself and say that i’ve written things that i really like, especially imagery-wise, but i Also want to publish those someday… like i’ve also written original/OC-related stuff that i don’t plan on publishing, but i’m not THAT proud of them tbh :/
i was —emphasis on was— trying to write a short story about jasna (one of my D-N/D OCs, a cleric of oghma) that never really went anywhere, but i did post a snippet on my OC blog, and that’s what i hate the least out of all my recent attempts at writing? so i’m just gonna put it here again ig sdfgs (not actually linking to the OC blog post because it’s kind of a mess rn, i need to fix the theme + clean it up a bit)
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if you got this far and read all of this nonsensical verbal monster: i love u with all my heart and i would legitimately die for u.
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