#look at what your fucking 'glorious country' is doing to people
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to any americans who feel "paralyzed" and "dont know what to do" to help with gaza:
reading a fucking book. i beg of you.
in a time of knowledge suppression is it your duty to arm yourself with knowledge.
read about americas occupations in the middle east.
read about 9/11 from outside of america and see how they inflicted senseless harm and violence to countless amounts of people and have been suppressing your rights for the past 2 fucking decades.
read about any of the countless wars from the past 30 years. especially from a civilian's. and the victims and survivors' perspective. listen to the horror stories and do not plug your fucking ears as to what your country is doing.
and read about fucking gaza and palestine and keep up with what is happening no matter how "sad" or "uncountable" you might get.
dont look away from this.
you dont have the right to be comfortable during countless active genocides.
if you're knowledgeable, you're powerful, and our current state doesnt fucking want that.
you have the power to change things if you open your eyes and scream to the world.
wake the fuck up.
Edit: please check the reblogs there are readings and ways to help
#og#truly if youre not about it your against it and i dont fuck with you because you're complacent#wake the fuck up#we're all responsible and dont you dare say you're not#americans need to stop living in the world with their eyes closed and their ears covered#look at what your fucking 'glorious country' is doing to people#everyone should be against america no fucking exceptions because america is violent and evil and needs to be stopped#then read about what america has done to the natives of their land#radicalize yourself#decolonize your mind#free palestine#land back#palestine will be free#theres too many fucking movements of just the past couple years all happening at once to act like the world is fucking fine#we are in a human rights CRISIS#WAKE THE FUCK UP PLEASE
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☆ Astro Observations Pt 2 ☆
**NOTE: This blog contains Mature Content.
💜 Scorpio Suns can "fake" smile A LOT - especially the women. They'll have big ass Cheshire Cat grins on their faces when trying to convince others that they care when they DO NOT. Shit looks mad weird! 🤣 Scorpionic Energy is meant to be dark, enticing & magnetic. So just embrace it!
💜 Scorpio Venus Women can be reserved Nuns or wild Wh0res! Lol. They can go hard in either direction. Either way though, they *hate* to be objectified and crave connection. Scorpio Venus Men are simply seductive AF. 🔥 Like dayummm! They're usually a highly sexual yet very choosy bunch. They can go years (by choice) without sex like a Monk. Many will "hold back" and repress their craving for an all-consuming love. Then suddenly FLOOD with emotions (and semen lol) for that special somebody - ready to devour your pu$$y & envelop your soul! 😎 These men are possessive & not for the faint of heart.
💜 Individuals with Mars in the 3rd House are MAJOR Sapiosexuals. Deep conversations turn them on!! Intellect gives these women many tingles and usually arouses *both* heads on the men. 🔥 3rd House rules short-distance travel... so these people may enjoy car sex, sex outdoors or sex while on a weekend getaway. Also, the women can correlate how a man drives/parks with how he fucks. 🤣 And you know what? It actually makes sense! A man who sucks at parking is probably a shitty lay. Lol. A man who handles large trucks with ease will probably dominate you.
*fans self*
💜 Libra Risings often look like walking works of ART from the Romantic Era. 💕 Paint these pretty bitches in ALL of their Venusian glory! Just sit them next to an elegant fireplace wearing *nothing* but a silk robe and a smile for Titanic vibesss. Often, the Men look like Sculpted Gods (like The Rock & Idris Elba) or Pretty Boys - like Leo DiCaprio & Harry Styles. And the Women are typically very lovely & voluptuous - like Beyonce, Doja Cat & Kate Winslet. Even when Libra Risings are average in appearance, they come across as pleasant & attractive to others.
💜 Men with strong Capricorn and/or Leo in their charts (especially Mars, Moon or ASC) give hella Big Dick Energy. 💪💪 Take me from the back, Zaddy! And they often make for being the best Providers for their families. *King Aura*
💜 Women with strong Taurus and/or Scorpio in their charts give Big Clit Energy. 🔥 Women with heavy Leo or Capricorn definitely possess Queen Energy. 🥂 Ladies with strong Aries give BOTH! The Queens w/ the Juicy Clit. ♈
💜 Aries Suns are indeed the PIONEERS of the Zodiac in every sense of the word. They blaze trails everywhere they go. 🔥🔥 Aretha Franklin was The Queen Of Soul; Marlon Brando & Bette Davis were the King & Queen of Old Hollywood; Celine Dion & Mariah Carey created the female Vocal Trinity that dominated the 90's music scene; Steven Tyler taught us how to boldly "Dream On" and Marvin Gaye asked us "What's Going On?" and inspired us to think! Selena was the FIRST woman to became a megastar in Tejano Music; Loretta Lynn broke major ground for women in Country Music; Martin Lawrence made us laugh until we peed our pants; Lady GaGa is in a glorious class all by HERSELF. 💯 Van Gogh created timeless Art; Phoebe & Simone have inspired the masses to bring back real romance as the lead actresses on the smash show 'Bridgerton'; Halle Bailey is amazingly talented & is going to be the best damn ARIEL this world has ever seen. 🧜🏾♀️
You need a ground-breaker? You need courage & inspiration? You need to see the IDGAF spirit in action? Go find an Aries and they'll get the damn job DONE. ♈
That's all for now Darlings! 💕 Catch you again soon.
#aries sun#arieswoman#libra rising#scorpio venus#scorpio#leo sign#capricorn sign#capricorn women#taurus sign#astro observations#astro notes#astro tumblr#astroblr#astrology observations#3rd house#mars
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SYNOPSIS: Knowing too much may become your downfall: that was the motto that Kaeya lived with until the day he dies.
TW/s: delusional thinking, yandere tendencies, unrequited love, toxic dynamic/s, implications for Diluc’s matchup + darling, conniving bastard won’t say a fucking word, master manipulator, we are going down the memory lane of “fucking people up”, nsfw tws include human trafficking, experimentation, operating on individuals and other things. Please dni if you are uncomfortable.
NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day. Unfortunately, it seems that Kaeya has a few things he’d like to express. I do wonder what they are, considering he did seem a bit somber…
Kaeya was never expecting to be able to get ‘in’ to such a tight-knit company like this, and especially when his lineage can cause people to raise some eyebrows. After all, no one in their right mind would have the chance of employing someone and getting them on the waitlist when they value the sense of ‘authenticity’ to their rentals.
And for him, he might be right. They do value that, but now, it seems they decided to forego their morals for how pretty he looked in the standards of the human population all across the globe.
Now, Celestia Inc. isn't all that bad. It's not that glorious as people make it out to be, all due to its shady past, but it was enough that people don't bother to raid it one day in hopes of having to take it down. After all, they are everywhere online: people may mention their sudden rise in certain niches, and some even mention their still standing operations. One of them was, surprisingly enough, MixMatch.
A dating site.
Back then, it was closed for a group of people to join. A payment for being a 'rental boyfriend', with its payment costs going as high as one can dream. They pay you at least 10 million when you manage to get matched with someone, and entertain them enough that they'd be satisfied. If they aren't, you get 5 to compensate for your troubles.
To Kaeya, this doesn't seem to be a 'dream come true'. To him, he knows that this feels more like a ploy to get others to join in. It was a marketing strategy, so when people join this 'free' and 'hot on the app store' dating app and website, they'd get traction oh so quickly.
He didn't like the idea. It sickened him. But he couldn't be bothered to correct them.
When he joined, he found that it was the same as those corporations he worked at prior. As a host in the past, he managed to get himself used to the workflow and gained traction in over a month. He's heard others comment on how he seemingly captured the public's eye from how different he is, and from his reputation from other countries, they were coming in like drones.
He liked the attention he's got because of that. And yet, for him, it all felt rather empty. Like it wasn't meant to be this long-lasting, and he needed— no, he craved for more.
He was greedy. A greedy man with a hollow heart.
Each smile he sent to his clients was not a genuine smile. Each wink and 'kind' gesture was all a ruse. A stage performance. He didn't feel anything for these people, and he didn't even feel the same as they do. Each confession they have for him was always met with the hollow words of 'I do feel the same way that you do', only to see them get the safer way to go.
He's aware of the dark side of MixMatch. After all, their Boss was nothing short of a past harbinger who stepped down. No one knows his name, no one knows who they are— but their workers all fear him.
He's seen him order the cleaners to get rid of the drugged clients. He's watched them all go down in their homes, ransack and ruin the place, and return with the client gagged and in a drugged rest. He watched with emptiness as they were then operated on with shady doctors, Dottore having a hand in some of these as he used their bodies for his sick desires.
He watched them become human sacks, their bodies empty of their organs but full of salt and junk, and for Dottore to tell them to take the organs down 'below'. He watched them become tied, their jello-like body being tossed to another set where they would be disposed of.
It's a fucked up operation.
Everyone knows this when they get signed up.
And yet, because of regulations, they can never breathe a word of what goes behind the scenes. Not to their friends, families, their coworkers, therapists, no.
Not a single word can be escaped from the confines of Celestia Inc.
If you asked him how his first date went, Kaeya would answer that it went… Interesting.
Sof was definitely the type many would like, especially for a casa nova like him. She isn’t too picky with who she wants, and her affectionate behavior made it easier for the duo to banter. However, what he didn’t like was the fact she’s blind to any sign of danger.
Such is the payment of being the ideal girl many would date, he mused. But I don’t like people who can’t see what danger is, much less even enable that without thinking that they will get hurt, too.
Kaeya is picky with what he likes from someone, and it’s why he’s so high maintenance. To his credit, though, he makes it obvious in his profile. He wanted someone that would be responsible, that would be able to handle the spontaneity of their dates, and that they won’t even judge him if things were going somewhere that isn’t in their plans.
And although many did swipe right on him, he looked through their profiles before checking to see if they were worth it. The answer? None of them were.
Well, except a few, like Sof.
Which is why he’s now regretting that decision, as he realized that she’s simply not the one he preferred to stay with. She was interesting, but he disliked those who can’t even see past the warning signs that go to their face. He found it more or less… Idiotic, in his standards.
Alas, he needed to keep pretending. That’s what he’s good at, after all.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked Sof as they left the restaurant, his easy-going smile present on his face. “I have a few places we can go to next. Although, since it’s getting a bit late, we can plan on heading back home after a short shopping trip.”
“Oh! Uh… Yeah, we can go out and get some groceries. I wanted to try baking when we get home,” Sof replied, a pep in her step as they walked to where he parked his motorcycle. “Hehe, I didn’t know you were a cat person, Kaeya. Have you owned a cat before?”
“You can say that,” he answered, tossing a coin and catching it deftly with one hand—a small trick he’s used to doing when they were simply chatting. “I own a maine coon back home. My brother, Diluc, isn’t a fan of cats. Never was, anyway, since one scratched him when he was young.”
Granted, they were both young and their father warned him, but he knew they were both too mischievous to listen. It was why Diluc hated cats, even when he became a magnet to them.
“Really? Hehe, that’s funny! I remember a friend of mine who hates cats…”
Try as Kaeya might, he could only tune out what Sof was saying. There was a sense of difficulty in paying attention to someone he doesn’t really enjoy being around. He thought of the matches he swiped as those who he really wanted to be with, but meeting with Sof, he felt disappointed.
He didn’t see her as someone that fits his needs. She was just another one of the fakes he had to deal with later. Such a shame. He was starting to like her, too.
Alas, she isn’t perfect. She needs to be perfect. And he’s starting to get annoyed at the sound of her voice.
Too loud. Too piercing. Too imperfect.
No, she can never fit his standards. She never will.
“Kaeya?”
“Mm?” he hummed, seeing her grab her helmet and his hands instinctively grabbing his own. Realizing what he was doing, he laughed.
“Sorry, I just did them while I was zoning out. Hop on, Sof, we need to go to the nearest store and get those supplies.”
“Oh! Of course, hold on!”
He could feel the motorcycle move as Sof got on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. It reminded him of those scenes in romance movies, where the girl will cling onto her potential lover as they rode off, the sun setting in the background.
He recalled seeing it and feeling that it could be him with his lover, riding off the sunset and simply enjoying the air. The golden hour setting just right, the rays hitting their complexion as he looked at them. He remembered just how lovesick he got at the idea, he craved for that same feeling when he grew older.
Such wild fantasies. He needed to work for it, but how could he, when the people he met were too imperfect?
Riding off, he could see the scene play out. However, his eyes were focused on the road, his ears straining for the beeps and sounds around them. He needed to focus on where he was going, lest he, too, will drive off somewhere else.
Despite the noise that he heard, his mind remained clear.
He knew what needed to be done.
Kaeya had so many things he's kept secret. Every client he has met, he's kept a secret that he can never tell.
Including the ones he sees ever so often.
It was a normal day when he came to the company as usual (and way before things went haywire, oddly enough), and he was assigned with yet another person to go on a date with. Although, the one he was assigned to date next had their form already in the red.
It all screamed imperfect to him. It just looked as though someone pushed her to do it all in one go, especially with the direct bias of seeing who she really likes in her profile.
It made him scowl.
How dumb were they to assign someone like that to him?
"█d████, are you sure you'll be assigning me with her?" Kaeya asked the matchmaker, watching them sigh as they gave him a look. "You know my tastes and all, but their form is rushed. I'm surprised that you haven't bothered trying to get them with someone else."
"Look, Kae, I tried. I tried, okay? But the others that fit them are taken by their previous matches. There is no way that they would simply accept getting switched like that," they explained, trying to assign his match. "Besides, we're running out of time. We need to get it sorted before the Boss gets mad!"
Kaeya scoffs. Seriously? They're always so concerned about someone else, it's ridiculous... And laughable, to boot.
"What will the boss do, hm? Would he come down and interfere?" he taunted them, scowling. "You and I know that he doesn't bother to try. All he does is simply hide himself in there because he's become too paranoid to even care."
"Paranoid? Paranoid? Please, Kaeya, do you honestly think he'd be too paranoid when he's raised a hand against me and the others?"
Kaeya's eyes narrowed. It was true that he raised a hand against them, but that simply proved his point. He didn't exactly understand why they would be so scared of a middle aged man that may drop dead over what happened weeks ago.
"Oh, that's right. You guys are paid enough to not care, don't you?" they taunted, laughing at his face. It sounded so... Forced. Mocking, even. It sounded like they were at their wits end with him, like the stress from the job got to their head.
"Yeah. Yeah, that seems to be it. You all have no remorse after being serial murderers, huh? And for what, your clients?"
"I'd stop talking if I were you, █████e," he warned, but they laughed at his face once more.
"Me? Stop? Never! You guys are all such a pain, I'm tired of playing nice!"
Even if Kaeya wanted to, he had to hold his tongue. Watching their face contort to mania, he was reminded of why the job was so twisted to the point of being inhumane.
It drives their workers into madness.
Watching Cupid lose it, he stepped back, mumbling an apology as he turned to leave. Even when he closed the door, he could still hear the echoes of their laughter, soon followed with sobbing. He knew that they were at their limit, but still...
...
He watched Eros come by, giving him a knowing look.
"Did you push them over the edge?" Eros asked, scowling. "They're going to leave the company after this week. Don't make this harder than it has to be, Alberich."
"I didn't expect them to break this much and you know it, Eros," he reasoned, but they only shook their head and walked off towards their office.
"That doesn't mean that you and everyone else weren't at fault."
Watching Eros enter their office, he could only sigh. Perhaps he's in a bit of denial, but he didn't think that she, of all people in the industry, would ever say that.
It truly goes to show where his dedication and loyalty lies.
If there was one thing he was right on, it would be his second date.
Unlike Sof, his date with Eli did not go as well as he had feasibly hoped for. Maybe he had his doubts set too high, because he was convinced that she simply wasn’t fit for the app as a whole. To him, he had thought that she would ever learn from her mistakes, but the way she acted like she was the one being inconvenienced irked him.
He hated that she’s too avoidant. He hated those types of people.
To him, he never understood why you’d go on the app to find love. Will you ever treat those you dislike the same way? Act like you were the one being inconvenienced, and not the one that has to deal with your childish acts?
Kaeya can be mischievous in his own way, yes, but even he has decorum. And frankly, he despised those who think they can act so two-faced with him. He isn’t a fool.
While his date was busy acting like they were in a good relationship (and not one where she wanted to ditch him in the middle of the day), he took the chance to check on his phone. Already, he could see notifications from TeyvaTweets, rambling about how her recent date is not the one for her.
[ I wanted Alhaitham or Wriothesley, but this guy swiped right instead. ]
[ He’s pretty, but I don’t really like him all that much lol. ]
[ Oh god im gonna get back on my date, going to lyk if it goes horribly. ]
He turned the phone off and frowned. He didn’t want to show it, but he does sometimes wonder if her being nice was simply just a ploy to keep him entertained. After all, she has expressed (on her private account, that is) that she’d drop Kaeya to “go after that hottie”, whilst attaching the photo of the boss of MixMatch.
What a joke.
They all know that the Boss would simply use her and leave her to rot. No one would look at him, go through his background, and tweet at how they can still try to get to him. ‘To get to know him better’, as one would say.
“Hey, uh, I gotta go. I have to go to the hospital to check on them.”
Lies. He knew she didn't. Besides, she couldn’t be bothered to look him straight in the eye as she told him. What is he, an idiot?
Still, he was glad it was over. Putting on a face of mock concern, his brows furrowed and he spoke.
“Oh? I see… Do you need me to drive you there?”
“No need! I can handle it,” Eli answered, packing up her things as they left the cafe awkwardly. “I’m so sorry if we have to cut it short. You must have so many plans for our date today, especially when things are getting hectic in the agency.”
Kaeya laughed, but not out of amusement. It was simply out of… politeness, in a way. Sure, he had work to do with the agency, but what they’re doing is far more different. And for him, he could hardly care if he had lost that job because he decided to slack off.
After all, he knew his date didn’t bother to give him the respect he deserved. So why should he do that in return? He’s bound to see her tweet again about this ‘awful experience’ or something.
“It's alright, I was thinking it’d come to this. I’ll catch you later then.”
Waving at Eli, he watched as she did the same and left, though the sight of her walking so stiffly as if she was scared of him brought him a bit of amusement in return. When he was sure she was gone, he lowered it with a sigh.
Another failed date, and this one was the worst he’s gotten. Unlike Sof, he didn’t feel all too bad about Eli—after all, both of them never liked each other, so why should he?
Pulling up his phone, he began to dial someone’s number. He, truthfully, never thought of needing help from the likes of him, but he had to call it when the truth was staring at him in the face.
That he and a few others needed their services to deal with a few too many bad matches, and especially ones that want to get near to those that will never look twice. Especially those who thought of him as a good guy for his actions.
Then, he clicks the call button. And it starts to ring.
He could vaguely feel it vibrate as he waited for someone to answer. The caller ID was someone that he knew too well, and especially with how their relationship is like after everything that has happened.
Each time he didn’t feel them pick up, he could only sigh and head to his ride. He knew they were avoiding it, but he wasn’t going to let up until he’s sure they’d take the call.
…
…
And when he felt his hopes dwindle, he felt the vibration of his phone stop, alongside a gruff and annoyed voice.
“Kaeya. I thought you and I agreed not to call each other when we’re both busy in work hours.”
“Hmm, we have, but I just needed to ask you a bit of favor, mr. Diluc,” he replied, humming in amusement. “Are you still looking for people that can help you with the wine tasting? Especially that new brew you made?”
He could hear Diluc take a deep breath, and the sigh that followed made him smile a tad wider. Even when they were all twisted in their way, he knew that Diluc remained the same way that Kaeya always knew him to be.
It’s a shame, though. They aren’t as close as he remembered, especially after what happened years ago.
“... Yes, I am. I found some that are willing, but they haven’t come back to inform me when they’ll be available.”
“I see… Well, I have someone I would love for you to meet. I’m sure you’ll like her—she fits you just right.”
No man could say a single soul what Kaeya is capable of.
Some rumored that he was a demented man, masquerading as but as a young police officer who’s mischievous and doesn’t enjoy spending long hours in his work. Others, though, say that he may be one of those people who are involved in the mess that was the Ghost Killings, at how his smile and demeanor can be so… off-putting.
As for his beloved, the one he deemed to be perfect, well… It would be neither. Kaeya was Kaeya, after all. Even if he were to be sick in the head, there was no way in Hell would anyone be able to get a single word from him.
Descending downstairs, Kaeya looked over at the room he’s decorated all for his beloved. The one he was truly, truly meant to be was all kept safely in there, double locked for his safety, and so that no one may find them. Grabbing the keys, he began to insert them in the padlocks and turn them, pushing the door open when he was done getting through the restraints.
Laid before him was his own personal darling, all laid so pretty and docile on the bed he set for him. Sure, he couldn’t speak, for his mouth had been gagged, but those dull eyes spoke more than Kaeya’s one eye could ever hope for.
“I’m home, darling,” he called out, the lovesick man stumbling to the rather complacent lover he had in his house. “Oh, I do hope I haven’t left you rotting here for so long, my dearest. Work has been exhausting for me to deal with.”
They hadn’t said a word to him, but he didn’t care. It was almost like he heard them whisper something to him, making him laugh like he was demented.
“You’re jealous? Over what, pray tell?”
Silence. Then another beat of laughter, this time more unhinged and loose than the first.
“Over them? Darling, you wound me! They’re far, far too imperfect. I have simply made sure that the ones I got were to be taken care of. You always said you wanted to have their eyes.”
Oh, he’s aware of what happened to Ba. Ba had an accident years, years ago. Their relationship had been rocky, sure, but that accident had led Kaeya to go through grief. It was almost ironic, for he experienced the first of it by his adoptive father dying.
He was unable to do anything for his adopted father. Diluc resented him for his inaction, thus, their separation. And with poor Ba… He resents the world for taking him away.
The first time he’s felt love was during college with Ba, but it was the first toxic one he had. He hadn’t been the best man for his first love, and it led to them having arguments and extreme disagreements. It wasn’t always like this, but it hurts Kaeya when they fight.
It hurts to see the person he adored too much to hate him. Spew his name out like it’s a sin.
So when Ba died during the height of their biggest fight, Kaeya was going through it again. However, he had the means to… Assist Ba in his partings.
All it truly took was the cost of his heart and his eyes to get back what’s his.
Tracing over the open chest, he grabbed the bloodied, unbeating heart that he got from Eli’s corpse. Ah, it was too imperfect, but slotting it inside Ba’s felt like it was meant to be. Those eyes he took from another girl had been replaced, slotting in the ones from Sol.
He always resented those that couldn’t see, nor those who couldn’t feel.
But now, looking at his lover who owned those faults, he couldn’t help but laugh and love them all the same.
Ba is now complete. Kaeya knows that.
And yet those tears still fell as the beat of his heart was the only one left in the world.
The world that took Ba away, and his humanity along with it.
@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024
#💌 ;; message delivery#💌 ;; from: kaeya alberich#💌 ;; to: green--enjoyer#💌 ;; to: vermil1ion-sky#💌 ;; to: 🍀 anon#💌 ;; promising letter: one last call#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin#yandere gi#genshin impact#genshin#gi#yandere kaeya alberich#yandere#yandere writing#yandere text#male yandere#kaeya alberich#genshin impact kaeya alberich#genshin kaeya alberich#yandere kaeya#kaeya#genshin impact kaeya#genshin kaeya
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red desert — daniel ricciardo
summary - I'm a slag for boys on dirt bikes and I'm not proud of it.
warnings - mostly fluff with a LOT of swearing (sorry), sexual references, crude language, smut adjacent content, aussie slang. 18+
word count - 2.8k
a/n - This is my first attempt at writing for F1 and it's also my triumphant return to tumblr in like, 10 years so go easy on me!
masterlist
“At first I thought he was in his element but now he’s hooning around like a fucking loose unit.
“He’s a professional driver, mate. Don’t stress.”
Daniel really was in his element. After 8 months of non-stop madness, countless flights and sleepless nights – he was home. Home at last. It had been a day marked in his calendar since December last year when you had boarded the plane with him in Perth and bided farewell to his family who he adored so much. Every goodbye hurting more than the last until every ounce of energy had been sucked from his soul, resulting in him conking out a few minutes into your flight back to your home away from home.
He had been gifted a few extra weeks back in Western Australia over Christmas and New Years now that his schedule and commitments had dwindled down. Although it had been a hard pill to swallow in the aftermath of his new contract, the silver lining was more time with the people who mattered the most. The ones he had been neglecting for the better part of 15 years and counting. He had missed so many family events, so many birthdays, weddings, and even a funeral. Each time he missed out on being apart of those special memories, you could see his big, loving heart breaking from the guilt.
But Daniel was going to be damned if he didn’t make the most of his time at home, savouring those extra hours to start making up for lost time. And he was bloody going for it. Loud yahoos from the neighbourhood kids could be heard all the way from where you were sitting on the porch, cider in hand and a packet of salt and vinegar chips abandoned beside you. It was scorching hot as it always was this time of the year in Australia. 37 degrees Celsius but dropping as the sun slipped behind the large gum trees that lined the Ricciardo’s property. It really was every young country boy or girls dream out there.
Nothing but red dirt and a mouthful of blowflies as far as the naked eye could see. It was glorious.
“Now he’s just taking the piss!” You screeched to Michael who had surrendered to the blazing sun and sought shelter under the veranda beside you. Michael was Daniel’s right hand man and his personal trainer rolled into one. He had also been a dear friend of the Ricciardo family for many, many years and had been invited along for the festivities.
Michael chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly, “Your boyfriend, your problem,” He replied with a knowing look as you quirked an eyebrow and watched Daniel challenging a 12 year old child on a beat up PeeWee 50 that looked like it could’ve been from the 80s.
“Sometimes it feels like you’re the boyfriend and I’m his handler,” You stated as Michael shook his head and took a swig of his beer, “You know that’s not true, mate. That dickhead loves you more than you could ever know.”
You nodded and looked back out at the small crowd gathering to watch the love of your life jump a couple of shoddily built ramps on his revved up dirt bike. He was gonna kill himself, you thought.
“I know he does.”
Daniel’s love for you had never been questioned, not for a second. No matter where he was in the world, it didn't matter the time or place; he was thinking about you. And visa versa. When you were sitting alone in your shared apartment in Monte Carlo, he was on your mind, wondering what he was doing or what insane thing he got to do that day. You were each other’s world but you were also hyper aware that racing came hand in hand with your relationship with Daniel – no matter how much he insisted it didn’t. The proof was in the pudding.
“You know that he finally told Christian that he wouldn’t be at every race next year. Straight up. I didn’t think he would,” You said, fascinated to see if Michael agreed with that decision or not. Daniel’s career was at a crossroads and so was Michael’s if he wasn’t racing every weekend.
“’Bout fuckin’ time. He’s been working like a pack horse for over a decade and deserves some time to breathe and I’m sure that time will be well spent,” Michael nodded and brushed off his shorts as he stood up, “This is all he’s ever wanted, you know? All of this with you,” He pointed out to the man-made red soil racetrack with a wink.
“Make the most of it.”
“Cheers to that,” You smiled as you clinked your bottle with Michael. He got it. And he was the first person to advocate for Daniel when the going got tough, whether that be in the paddock or in the media. It was no secret that Daniel had been through the wringer not knowing if he had a seat next season, or if he’d be involved in the sport at all. It had been a shit-show and you and Michael had front row seats for the better part of 6 months watching it all unfold. The turmoil had nearly broken his seemingly unbreakable spirit but he was stronger than anyone could’ve imagined.
Daniel’s loud, boisterous laugh broke you from your thoughts and you watched as he pulled off the way-too-small helmet he’d borrowed from his brother-in-law. He dropped the dirt bike down on the small patch of lawn that was barely holding on in the sweltering heat and bounded towards you with that infamous shit-eating grin, “Heard you were worried about me up here?” He asked more as a question rather than a statement.
“Course not,” You scoffed, “You’re a big boy who can handle those small, yet extremely unsafe ramps out there.” You were half-joking and he could see the genuine concern behind your eyes. He knew you better than anyone.
“Oh, I know that you know I’m a big boy,” He murmured under his breath as he tried to sit down on your lap, still completely covered in dust and sweat, “Shouldn’t be tellin’ the whole world though, ay?” He teased as you pushed him off, refusing to let him dirty your perfectly clean clothes before dinner.
“Eww, you fuckin’ stink. Get off me,” You laughed, standing up from the rocking chair that you were lounging in and placing your small hands on his chest. “So handsome but so sticky,” You quietly grimaced as you looked up into his playful chestnut eyes and brushed your soft fingertips over the cotton shirt he was jeering you in.
Daniel’s eyebrow rose with intrigue as his tanned, tattooed arm wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. He was wearing that damn sleeveless shirt that he knew riled you up at the best of times, but the combination of his relaxed demeanour, toothy grin and the way the thin material was sticking to every muscle on his body, it had you hot under the collar. That was the effect he had on you and boy, did he know it. Daniel took advantage of your close proximity and leaned down, pecking your pouting lips.
“I’ll let you join me in the shower if you admit you were a tiiiiny bit scared,” He taunted in a hushed voice, dragging out his words and making your eyes roll.
“Please!” You mocked, “This is a lose-lose for you, Danny. You’ve never been good at blackmailing, darling and it shows,” You gently poked his tummy and spun around on your heel, making your way back inside to enjoy the air-conditioner that was blasting through the house.
“Fuck,” Daniel scolded himself, realising that there was no way you would admit to being scared, “I’m really off my game today. I thought doing those sickass wheelies would’ve reeled you in.”
He was playing with you, although watching him totally dominate a bunch of heckling teenagers did make you squeeze your thighs that little bit closer together. But you couldn’t tell him that.
You chuckled, secretly loving how defeated he must’ve looked sulking behind you like a sad puppy. Daniel’s beast mode was something you admired, craved even, especially during a race weekend or in your bedroom after teasing him with your wandering fingertips. He had a ferociousness that so many people got to witness on TV throughout his career and a level of intensity that was almost hard to believe he had when you got to know the man underneath the helmet. Most of the time Daniel was gentle, caring and an aspiring comedian if you asked him. He was always the life of the party but he was also the light in the life of everyone he knew.
You were one of the lucky ones who got to experience all the different facets of his personality, some you loved more than others. Sulking on Christmas Eve wasn’t one you were particularly fond of but you had a plan to rectify that – one that you knew would perk him up.
Daniel was taken aback when you turned and continued strutting down the hallway before entering the room you were sharing together while you were here. “Lock the door and please don’t make me regret this,” You said before kicking off your slides and turning around to see that cheesy fucking grin again. He was beautiful but insufferable.
“That’s it – I’m out!” You fake shouted and threw your hands up before Daniel surged forward and snaked his arm around you again, his smile dropping into a smirk.
“I’m just fuckin’ with you, baby. Come ‘ere,” He whispered, capturing your curled up bottom lip with his in a sweet kiss, “Let me love you.”
Your hands crawled up and brushed against his warm neck, small grains of dirt snuck under your fingernails as they dragged gently across his glistening skin. Daniel kicked off his Vans and a small whimper slipped from your lips as he slowly nudged you towards the en suite, one eye slightly open so he didn’t ram you against the tiled bathroom wall. Well, at least not yet anyway.
“We’re just showering. No funny business,” You mumbled against his perfect lips as if you could read Daniel's filthy mind, not wanting to break the spine-tingling kiss but needing to put down some ground rules.
“I should be saying that to you, ma’am,” Daniel nuzzled into your neck while skilfully unbuttoning the black denim shorts that were clinging to your hips, “You’re the one who loves getting railed in the shower, remember?”
Of course you did. You had countless memories of being fucked into a state of absolute ecstasy by Daniel either in your shower back in Monaco or that unbelievably lavish hotel shower in Abu Dhabi that was the size of a studio apartment. All of those visions came rushing back as you stood in your future parents-in-law’s spare bedroom, half-naked and wishing for nothing more than for their son to do exactly that. Fuck you.
“Don’t say railed,” You quietly moaned as Daniel focused in on the sweet spot just below your ear and tossed the white shirt you’d stolen from him aside, “So vulgar.” You were smirking and Daniel could tell from the tone in your voice. He also knew how much you loved his dirty talk.
“You fuuucking love it,” He deeply groaned and grasped your face in his large hands, quickly bringing you back to the present so you were looking into those gorgeous brown eyes again. You were a goner.
“I really, really do,” You whispered and reached for the waistband on his shorts, “Feels like you do too.”
Daniel was always just a couple of minutes from being exactly where you needed him in times like this. Hard. It never really took much besides a few sweet nothings whispered into his ear and maybe a touch or two to get the show underway. He had an unimaginable level of self-control but when you needed him, he was right there, standing to attention and desperate for what was to come. Pun-intended.
“Always ready for you, baby',” He whispered as his lips trailed over your chest that was on display and perfectly positioned for him to have his way, “Thank you god,” He playfully teased, praying up at the ceiling with a grin before you shushed him and reached for the shower taps.
“You’re a dork,” You jested sweetly as his fingertips slid your very colourful, polka dot undies down, making him chuckle. “Not as dorky as these knickers though.” He teased but deep down, he thought you looked cute.
“Don’t even try and pretend that this isn’t what you imagine when we’ve been apart for a month and you’re thinking about me in some ridiculously expensive hotel room, god knows where,” You sarcastically replied and posed up against the shower door with an exaggerated pout, “So hot, right?”
Daniel’s bravado dropped for a split second as his eyes glanced over you, taking in the image before him. He was mesmerised by your beauty every single time you stepped into a room, and when you left a room if he was being completely honest with his shameless self. This was what he imagined when he found himself desperately missing you, hand wrapped around his aching cock late at night, wishing it was you squeezing out everything he had to give. He wanted you. He needed you.
“You will forever be my fantasy, baby. And probably the death of me too,” Daniel declared before guiding you under the lukewarm water. He didn't need to say much more because he understood that you knew how much he missed your touch on those lonely nights. And you were always a FaceTime call away if he needed that little extra push across the finish line.
Daniel took the lead. Deep down all he really wanted in this moment was to be close to you. All the teasing and flirting was just a bit of fun to pass the time. He was obsessed with you and god, did he want to do unspeakable things to you but right now, he just needed to feel you there. Physically having you by his side had been a luxury during the season and you both hated being apart but that was how it was. Like it or lump it. But being able to stand under a cascading waterfall and wash off the day you’d spent laughing and living life together was an indulgence that you never took for granted. Especially not now.
“Feel good, honey?” You asked, gently massaging his sun-kissed back. Every muscle contracted as the knots loosed under his taut skin, begging for a release and you delivered. “Feels incredible.”
Daniel closed his eyes and savoured the sensation of your hands moving down his tight back. Everything hurt all of the time with the intense training and relentless race weekends so having you take away all that tension and all that stress for him made him smile. He could feel his mouth tugging upwards as you pressed a firm kiss to his shoulder blade and a softer one to his spine before wrapping your arms around his slim waist, “I’ll wash your hair out before we run out of hot water.”
“Ta,” Daniel quietly mumbled, suddenly lost for words.
But he knew he could be quiet with you. The silence was comfortable as you turned him around to face you so you could run your fingers through his soapy curls, making sure every scarp of dirt, grass and more than likely a bug or two was rinsed down the drain. The water swirling around your feet was tinted orange as it washed away and Daniel couldn’t help but giggle when you gently scratched his scalp with your fingernails. His eyes were closed and an involuntary smile crept across your face as he groaned in pleasure. Scalp massages are the greatest, you thought to yourself.
“You’re such a little grub – look at the water,” You teased, moving your hands from his hair to his jaw, forcing him to look at the mess he’d made.
“That’s pure Aussie blood, sweat and tears right there,” Daniel retorted with his best Bogan accent as he shook his curls and wiped the running water from his eyes, sending droplets flying everywhere.
“Alright, Paul Hogan – let’s get out of here,” You tutted with a smile and gave his chest a light tap, motioning for him to grab you a towel to dry off.
“We could just air dry, you know? Save on laundry and all that,” Daniel winked and you fleetingly saw that naughty glint in his eyes before he stepped forward with a towel open, ready to wrap you up like a burrito.
“I’d be so into that if I didn’t think your niece or nephew could burst in any second,” You reasoned and Daniel wholeheartedly agreed, although still slightly disappointed. “Yeah, probably don’t wanna scar them for life with this rig, ey?” He chuckled and methodically dried off every inch of skin on your body with crude remarks aplenty. Obviously.
"We can have our own little christmas eve celebration later if you can hold off until then," You bargained as Daniel stood up and pushed his wet curls back off his forehead, causing small droplets to slip down his sun-kissed cheeks. His bright smile was back in full force and the fist pump of excitement was a nice touch.
"You know I can't make any promises, babe. Might have to wrap it up early," He winked and you couldn't stop the blush creeping up your neck. That was the effect he had on you from day one and that was how it would always be.
a/n - I have so many ideas for Daniel and a couple of other drivers so let me know if you liked this one or any story ideas you'd like to see written!
#monzamashmasterlist
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo x reader#formula 1#formula 1 one shot#monzamash#formula one#daniel ricciardo fluff#monzamashmasterlist
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STWG daily drabble 18/09/23
prompt: rain
****
The weathers been shitty all weekend, that light miserable drizzly rain that just saps your fucking will to live. And it’s June for fuck sake. What is it with this country?
He feels like a prick for wearing his once white high tops while he’s walking around backstage. Caked in mud, while everyone else is wearing rain boots because they’ve done this before and they’re the new boys on the scene. They’re still small fry, relatively speaking, second band on and it’s not the main stage.
Eddie doesn’t give a fuck.
They have thirty minutes. Thirty minutes to obliterate the audience, thirty minutes to make the opener a distant memory. He wants the band coming on after them to be pissing their pants while they wait backstage.
They’ve never played in Europe before, so they’re nervous. Every band has that one story about having bottles thrown at them. He’s been told they fill the bottles with piss over here so he’d like to avoid it as much as possible.
They get the call and then they’re on the stage. And… wow.
There are dudes right at the front with Corroded Coffin banners, he can see fans wearing t-shirts (and it’s official fucking merch) and there’s a genuine cheer from a few hundred fans who are clearly there for them. He and Jeff share a look, ‘we’re fucking here!’ and before they can even think Gareth is already counting them in.
They do five songs from the album, one new song, and a blistering cover of Battery.
As they hit their final song the granite clouds finally give up and release proper, fat rain, and Eddie watches the fans below as they get soaked to the skin, hair plastered to their faces. But they’re loving it, they’ve stood there waiting for them all morning, and they’re not running away now, if anything they’re getting more amped up.
It’s their last song, their best song. The first time he heard a crowd sing his own words back to him he thought he would cry, right there on the stage, like the fucking sap he was. He kept his shit together then.
But not today.
It might never get better than this, second stage at a metal festival in a cold miserable country in Europe, so far down the bill that most of the festival goers are still in their tents sleeping off the night before. But this, this moment right here and now, is perfection.
He walks to the edge of the stage, puddles of water gathering, his own clothes absolutely pendulous with the weight of water. The smell of petrichor and beer, heavy metal alchemy. There has to be a couple of thousand people out there, and they’re singing back to him. The rain lashes down and he leans his head back, turns his face up to the black skies and opens his arms wide. Tears and rainwater run together.
It feels like absolution, like glory, like rebirth. His escape from his past complete. His future in the palms of thousands of hands.
They’ll play bigger shows in the years to come. They’ll come back here and work their way up to headline the main stage. They’ll have albums that sell millions.
But it will be this moment that Eddie carries with him for the rest of his life. One glorious Sunday in England, standing on a stage, bathing in the rain.
(Afterwards Jeff tells him he looked like metal Jesus, and the name sticks for far longer than he would like.)
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The Talented Mr. Ripley Sentence Starters
feel free to change the pronouns
"If I could just go back. If I could rub everything out… starting with myself."
"To my ear, jazz is just noise. Just an insolent noise."
"I can tell you, the _______ name opens a lot of doors."
"I have so much luggage, and you’re so, um, streamlined. It’s, you know, humiliating."
"We’re partners in disguise."
"Hello. Uh, well, I knew you…so I suppose you must have known me."
"I’ve been looking all over for you. Where’ve you been hiding?"
"Did you suddenly forget where I lived?"
"I’m despicable, but I love you."
"Everybody should have one talent. What’s yours?"
"Nobody should have more than one talent."
"It’s too much! You’re making all the hairs on my neck stand up."
"I’m never going back."
"To actually hire somebody to come all the way here to drag me back home– Got to be a little insane, hasn’t he?"
"Call him, if you can find a telephone that works, and tell him wild horses wouldn’t drag me back to him."
"Boats are female. Everyone knows you can’t call a boat after a man."
"I can’t write and I can’t spell. It’s the privilege of a first-class education."
"Now that you’re a double agent and we’re gonna string my dad along, what if we were to buy a car with your expense money?"
"You’re breaking my ribs!"
"I love the fact that you brought Shakespeare with you but no clothes."
"Anyway, just wear some of my stuff. Wear anything you want. Most of it’s ancient."
"Without the glasses, you’re not even ugly. I don’t need them because I never read."
"It means we’ve never shared a bath, and I’m cold. Can I get in?"
"Stop telling me what an incredible time you’re having."
"He wants me to reassure him that you’re going to be home by Thanksgiving."
"You’ve got to get a new jacket. Really. You must be sick of wearing the same clothes."
"I love how responsible you are. My dad should make you chief accountant or something. Or when I take over, which is never, I will."
"Oh, God, don’t you want to fuck every woman you see just once?"
"Would you get undressed in your own room?"
"I was just fooling around. Don’t say anything. I was just fooling around."
"You, uh, stay at _______’s house, you eat _______’s food, you wear his clothes, and his father picks up the tab."
"The thing with _______ ... It’s like the sun shines on you, and it’s glorious. And then he forgets you and it’s very, very cold."
"When you have his attention, you feel like you’re the only person in the world. That’s why everybody loves him."
"How can it take an hour to find an ambulance?!"
"I don’t know why people say this country is civilized. It isn’t. It’s fucking primitive!"
"You don’t have to clean up! Really!"
"You’ve been so good to me. You’re the brother I never had. I’m the brother you never had. I would do anything for you."
"She came to me for help. She needed money. I didn’t help her."
"I’m not going to say anything, to the police or anybody. It’s a secret between us, and I’ll keep it."
"You could hardly expect this to go on forever."
"You said it yourself. It’s my dad’s money you’re spending."
"I’m suddenly quite happy to be going back."
"Do you even like jazz, or was that for my benefit?"
"I’ve gotten to like everything about the way you live. It’s one big love affair."
"I figured-Now, just for argument’s sake, say I got a place. Or say we split the rent on a house."
"Yesterday, you’re ogling girls on the terrace. Today you’re getting married?! That’s absurd!"
"You love me. You’re not marrying me."
"I don’t love you."
"To be honest, I’m a little relieved you’re going. I think we’ve seen enough of each other for a while."
"You can be a leech! You know that! And it’s boring. You can be quite boring!"
"The funny thing is, I’m not pretending to be somebody else, and you are. I’ve been absolutely honest with you about my feelings, But you-"
"First of all, I know there’s something. That evening, when we played chess, for instance, it was obvious."
"Oh, sure. No, no! It’s too dangerous for you to take on. Oh, no, no. We’re brothers! "
"You follow your cock around like a-And now you’re getting married! No, I’m bewildered. Forgive me."
"Who are you? Some third-class mooch? Who are you? Who are you to say anything to me! Who are you to tell me anything!"
"Actually, I really, really do not want to be on this boat with you. I can’t move without you moving."
"I’m gonna kill you! Kill you! You’re dead!"
"There’s a side to him when our heads are on the pillow, I know no one else sees, that’s so tender."
"The truth is that if you’ve had money your entire life, either you despise it, or you’re only truly comfortable around other people who have it and despise it."
"I look at you and I see her face. And I can’t- No matter what I’m feeling towards you–"
"But will you meet me tomorrow? Just to say goodbye properly, you know, in the daylight, so it’s not just this. You should always save pain for daylight."
"Last time you didn’t know your ass from your elbow. Now you’re giving me directions. That’s not fair. You probably do know your ass from your elbow."
"I won’t count on you anymore. Whatever it is you’ve done or haven’t done, you’ve broken my heart. That’s one thing I know you’re guilty of."
"You’re much more like the son my father wanted."
"I realize you can change the people, change the scenery, but you can’t change your own rotten self."
"I’m haunted by everything I’ve done and can’t undo."
"I’m delighted, contrary to rumor, that you’re still in one piece."
"By the way, officially there are no Italian homosexuals. Makes Michelangelo and Leonardo very inconvenient."
"Well, whatever you do, however terrible, however hurtful, it all makes sense, doesn’t it, in your head. You never meet anybody who thinks they’re a bad person."
"Don’t you just take the past and put it in a room in the basement, and lock the door and never go in there? And then you meet someone special, and all you want to do is toss them the key. Say “Open up. Step inside.” But you can’t. Because it’s dark, and there are demons."
"I keep wanting to do that. Fling the door open. Just let the light in, clean everything out."
What a waste of lives and opportunities. I’d pay that fellow $ 100 right now to shut up!"
"You know, people always say that you can’t choose your parents, but you can’t choose your children."
"I loved you. You may as well know. I loved you. Maybe it’s grotesque of me to say this now, so just write it on a piece of paper or something, and put it in your wallet for a rainy day."
"When you see where you live from a distance, it’s like a dream, isn’t it?"
"You know, seeing you again, I–I’ve thought about you, so much."
"I’m gonna be stuck in the basement, aren’t I? That’s my... Terrible…and alone…and dark. And I’ve lied…about who I am…and where I am. Now no one will ever find me."
"I always thought it would be better to be a fake somebody, than a real nobody."
"You’re not a nobody. That’s the last thing you are."
#[ if any of you enjoyed watching Saltburn i highly recommend this film. saltburn was basically a rip off of this one ]#[ also reblog this so i can send you these lol ]#The Talented Mr. Ripley#Sentence Starters#; mine
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I saw your answer about art experiences. How do you feel things from literature? I am consistently disconnected from things I try to feel from, like I read The Glass Menagerie and it was good, even, but nothing came of it, and usually it is so much less than that.
I thought it might be something like Having A Coke With You, where the art is superceded by real human relationships — and I actually did understand Having A Coke With You for a while, and it was kind of incredible, but now I look at descriptions that resonated me not two months ago and they're just empty. I don't think having friends did that.
I just want this to be me, I want to feel things so much, especially without looking on it from a consumer's perspective (cf. rayne fisher-quam's standing on the shoulders of complex female characters), which I feel is hindering all of this. I feel like I'm missing out on one of the great experiences of life, the connection and meaning that comes from art.
I watched Greg Guevara's video on art experiences, where he said that everyone is overstimulated and spreading out their art experiences into meaningless social media bits, and I don't know how to change that. I saw a play today and I didn't understand it and I was bored, even, and it didn't change me. I needed it to change me into someone who loved it.
I read Anna Karenina in eighth grade and pushed through it and it was a comfort book and I related to Levin but I don't think I understood it, even (I don't have the book anymore). My friend – I have a bad habit of comparing myself to others, I know, but it's relevant – reads Crime and Punishment and feels things. I couldn't even get through the first part of War and Peace.
I'm sorry for the scatteredness, I write on my phone and I find it difficult to organize my thoughts here. I'm sorry for sending this to you, and I hope you feel free to delete it. Lastly, I'm sorry if you cannot answer this, if this is outside your experience.
i have a weird framing and personal philosophy about this subject that i hope does not come off as unsatisfactory to you but bear with me. i'm pretty sure i know this feeling; this is the feeling i get when i'm exposed to the wondrous, marvelous beauty of unspoiled nature. i could not give two shits about the glorious national parks of this genuinely gorgeous country despite my family dragging me all over the continental US for summer break as far as the family van would take us. i have seen some of the most spectacular sights this country can offer, from the grand canyon to the redwoods of california to the devils tower to yellowstone and so many more. and i tell you i stare at it dead-eyed like a fish. i know i should be feeling something, everyone else is. but when i see old faithful erupt all i could think about was how i could see water at home. absolutely 0 spiritual or emotional connection. even landscape paintings leave me cold. i can appreciate and understand the aesthetic value in what i'm seeing, but its like it stops at my eyes and never penetrates my brain.
but i have just accepted that there are things i simply will not be able to experience in my lifetime. this has always been the case for me being less than 5 ft tall with most things in life, but dont read that as self-pitying lore dropping. because the secret is that it's not really that big of a deal to not be able to do things. i might have 0 memories of yellowstone that aren't "insane thing that happened to us" but as an adult i can pursue things i actually do like instead of trying to force myself to FEEL something my brain isn't wired for.
maybe your relationship with reading is the same. you understand literature's grand purpose in the wide tapestry of history or whatever and have seen people have rapturous moments of artistic connection with specific books, but that experience is completely foreign to you. you can even read a book and enjoy it, like how i think the prismatic spring IS pretty fucking sick, but whatever ethereal feeling youre supposed to feel never materialize. thankfully, i promise you that its not a big deal. and now i never have to visit a national park again until i force my children to go see them because it's good for them or whatever. i can sit at home and experience art i DO get that feeling from.
anyway, in short: read things with no expectations of how you're "supposed" to feel about them and just enjoy a pretty good story. keep throwing yourself into artistic pursuits you do enjoy and feel connected to. and try new ones! you never know what will activate your brain
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Tankies be tripping like a mf
Sometimes I see tankies posting their usual bullshit and I’m just endlessly smh hard enough to cause myself brain damage
I could, if I wanted, make a dozen social media accounts across various platforms and proceed to talk as much shit about Joe Biden or Donald Trump as I want. I could do that 24/7/365, all day, every day and every night, and do nothing else but that. I mean, I could talk straight up bullshit about either of them or both of them, and their spouses and their families, and as long as I don’t make any threats against their lives, guess what would happen to me?? NOTHING. Not a goddamn thing
I know this for a fact because I’ve done it (talk shit about them, not make troll accounts), and I see people do it every fucking day
Meanwhile, in “glorious” communist countries™ like Russia or China or North Korea, if anyone dares to publicly say anything even slightly unflattering about those country’s leaders, they will be punished, arrested, jailed, disappeared or murdered. And God forbid if you’re an actual journalist or dissident or a political activist trying to speak out against Putin, or Kim Jong Un, or Xi Jinping — your corpse will never be found (except maybe for Russia, where you would either “accidentally” fall out of a window, or “accidentally” ingest a rare but deadly radioactive material) ☢️ 🙃
Look, this isn’t me going, “America is soooo great and everywhere else sucks,” because as a Black man living in America, I’m well aware of how thoroughly anti Blackness is weaved into our society, and as someone who has LGBTQ loved ones, I am also aware of how homophobia and transphobia are also woven into American culture. So no, America was never great. But anti Blackness, homophobia, and transphobia exist everyfuckingwhere. And yes, that most definitely includes the tankie fantasyland utopias of Russia, China and North Korea
Anyway, I’m just blowing off some online steam because every time I see a tankie profess how communism™ will make everything equal and just sO much better, and how Russia, China and North fucking Korea! are heavens for love peace + equality, every fucking time I see that BULLSHIT on tumblrdotcom I wanna pull my teeth out with a rusty pair of pliers 🤬
I just do not get it
Only tankies could look at murderous dictatorial authoritarian regimes and go, yeah that seems much better
LOL, I could almost overlook Russia and China, but when I see tankies defending N. Korea?? I’m like, that mf is farther gone than the Voyager space probes
SN: I know that despite their political party names, Russia and China aren’t really “communist” countries, but I often wonder if tankies understand that fact
And please don’t get me started on the allegedly “pro-Black” tankies who stayed on mute about Brittney Griner, because I guess saying anything would have made Putin look bad 😒
I mean don’t get me wrong, I dO understand that capitalism has utterly failed people so thoroughly and so fucking completely that literally anything else might seem preferable by comparison, but ☭ ain’t it, fam
To be crystal clear: I hate capitalism as much as the next compassionate human being and I know capitalism ain’t it, but neither is communism, sorry
I genuinely do believe that a better world is possible, but seeing people (surprise - disproportionately white dudes) constantly blathering on and on about how good Russia is, makes me feel like 🤮
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💧for Eunyeong please. :D
💧- Is your OC anti-war in some sort of way
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"And ends this night's segment of The House of the Hill. Come back next week for another episode of this show," the radio said as it cut to static.
"I thought you said this drama was stupid?" Eunyeong chuckled as she saw her brother constantly looking over at the radio. He rolled his eyes as he finally finished cooking dinner. Eunyeong laughed at his reaction.
"For once, something you like caught my interest. What the fuck is even happening?" He asked. Eunyeong grimaced. She wasn't too fond of cuss words, and her parents didn't want her to learn those words in their native language.
"Umm. Oh, Nanoko is dating Otoko right? Supposedly, Nanoko is from a poor family, but she's actually really wealthy. Otoko then started seeing Yujin behind Nanoko's back! And Yujin knows that he is in a relationship with Nanoko, but she wants to steal him!" Eunyeong explained. Eunkyu smiled as he began to laugh.
"Ah, so another "got cheated on, so I got revenge" type of love story. You're so obsessed with those types of stories," Eunkyu laughed. Eunyeong pouted. She was not obsessed! She just enjoyed that particular plot. It doesn't matter that it was the only plot she's been listening to! Before she could say anything else, they were interrupted by loud beepings. It came from the radio.
"Huh? Is it the World News with that Kisha woman? It's so late at night, what else is there to say?" Eunyeong asked as she turned the volume higher. Eunkyu shrugged.
"Good evening to our glorious Empire, recently there has been good developments of this war as the frontlines report advancement into Nisara. There was heavy casualty on both sides and of civilians. However, the advancement of the army is good news to us all," the woman on the radio spoke.
"Turn it off," Eunkyu said. Eunyeong nodded as she did what her brother told her
"Why would she say that? Who cares if the army won? People who weren't fighting were killed for no reason!" Eunyeong shouted. She hated everything about this announcement. She could feel her heart beating heavily.
"It doesn't matter to these people. All Athians are the same. They're happy to kill if it means they get what they want," Eunkyu hissed. Eunyeong clutched onto her skirt. She sighed as she wondered how often they needed to talk about this!
"Not all are like that and you know it. Does it even matter? The war should have never happened in the first place!" Eunyeong shouted. She was tired of this! She had friends who were Athians and agreed that the war was only causing harm.
"It would have never happened if the people here did not look down on us! They are using that as an excuse to attack Nisara. Then again, you never noticed it at all," Eunkyu said as he turned to finish putting the food onto the plates. Their parents would be home soon, and he was expected to prepare the table.
"What do you mean I never noticed?! Of course, I know that! Don't think I never had to face anything like that before! If you stopped fighting with everyone, no one would hurt you!" Eunyeong was getting tired of this. She was tired of being treated like a child who knew nothing. She wasn't five! She was twelve now!
"You barely faced anything because you bow down to them. You happily speak their language, eat their food, and dress like them. Mom even told me you skipped out on the New Year's ceremony," Eunkyu said. Eunyeong did not like how calm his voice was. She knew it was good to hear calmness in his voice, but her heart knew something was eerily wrong with the tone of his voice.
"I-I skipped because I wanted to hang out with my friend. It was her birthday," she whispered. She began to wonder about everything else he said. What did he mean by that? "Anyways, was this war? Why did you guys leave Nisara?"
"Yes and no. The war caused the economy to fall drastically and mom and dad didn't want to raise their family in a country in such a state. They would have stayed otherwise," Eunkyu said. He put the plates on the table, avoiding eye contact with Eunyeong.
Eunyeong wanted to ask about his earlier comment, but she knew it was better to drop it. At least there was one thing they agreed on: the war needed to end. It was unnecessary and stupid. People are being killed for no reason. Eunyeong wondered if the war would ever truly end and what would need to happen for it to end. All she can hope is that the war will end peacefully.
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As you can tell, this is not the usual response I tend to give. I was already working on this short story before I got this ask. I thought the short story responded to this ask, so I just used it. Admittedly, it was supposed to be way longer, but I get side tracked easily so I didn't go more into details on certain things. Sorry, if this was bad. I don't have too much experience with creative writing since I am still stuck with using academic writing.
Oh, when i comes to the names of the other people. It really is the name that describes their role. They are not even names haha. Either way, I would need to go into deeper context in the future to answer the question Eunyeong asked herself.
Thank you for the ask! As usual, I enjoyed working on this response and the art I created for it! I wasn't expecting Eunyeong to get an ask, but it was so much fun to work on her as well as work on dynamic between her and her brother!
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I know it's not the WIP Wednesday yet, but it is my birthday, so I'm gonna share the complete first chapter of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins for your reading pleasure lmao:
"Now, Steve, you know we support you. Your father and I didn't bat an eye when you came out, and we look forward to meeting whichever nice young boy or girl you bring home. But, dear, violence is never the answer."
The words go in one ear and right out the other as Steve watches buildings rush by outside the window. He’d slip on the headphones around his neck, but Steve knows he at least owes his parents the courtesy of naked ears after they bailed him out. Really, he just wants to take a shower and change into clean clothes after spending a night in jail surrounded by equally sweaty and beat up parade-goers. Don’t get him wrong; the people were great, but the smell was atrocious. He lets his head fall against the window, eyes shutting as he breathes through a bruised rib, split lip, and swollen eye.
"Steve, are you listening to your mother?"
"Yeah, violence bad," he mumbles, just loud enough to be heard in the otherwise silent car. At this point, he’d even prefer the stadium country that usually plays when his dad drives.
He wishes he were back in the jail cell, swapping stories with the others who got arrested for fighting homophobic protestors, who started it, by the way. He knows his parents are disappointed in him for fighting (and, even worse, getting caught and potentially causing An Incident for them), but he felt genuinely happy sitting on the concerningly sticky floor in that cell. Even if he could go back to yesterday, he wouldn't change a damn thing after seeing three poor kids surrounded by people shouting the most vile things.
They had looked terrified, tears crowding in their eyes as they clutched at each other, and Steve had seen red. It was a fucking pride parade, a place where kids should feel comfortable being themselves and seeing themselves in the smiling, laughing faces of strangers whose mere existence proves they’re not alone and they’ll survive. But they were being harassed by people with nothing better to do than let hate shrivel their hearts.
Steve, thankfully, hadn’t been the only one who’d seen red. He’d locked eyes with someone who had top surgery scars and a sash across their chest that read “Queer” in sparkling, rainbow letters. Next to them was a shorter woman with close-cropped hair and a flannel shirt (how she wasn’t dying in the heat, Steve will never know) with a white t-shirt underneath that had “Resting Butch Face" emblazoned across the front. The three of them had shared a nod and marched over to the kids.
He later learned that the person wearing the sash was named Daze (“They/them pronouns, unless it’s comedically appropriate to use something else,” they’d said in the jail cell, winking playfully at Steve). The butch went by Mar; she’d excitedly told Steve in the jail cell how her girlfriend would bust her out only to laugh her ass off when said girlfriend was shoved in by two cops not a second later.
What had followed the nod was Mar and Steve standing in front of the kids, creating an unmoving shield while Daze quickly gathered them close. They smiled at the three, quietly complimenting one’s rainbow hair ribbon while Steve tried to be the voice of reason (he shouldn’t have bothered, but he’s still got a little optimism inside).
The first punch was thrown by the ringleader of the protestors after Mar not-so-subtly implied that maybe he’d rather be partying with them and getting his tongue down some cute twink’s throat instead of holding signs and shouting. She’d taken the punch like a champ, and Steve’s grin mirrored hers when the wonderful, incredible term “self-defense” suddenly became applicable.
Daze had gotten the kids out of there, keeping them calm even as more people joined in the fight, turning the little skirmish into an all out brawl. It had lasted five glorious minutes before cops finally broke it up, forcing protestors and pride-goers into cars together in zip ties. They had realized that was a bad idea when a drag queen headbutted a protestor for what he called her.
After a night in jail, bonding with his cellmates and writing down numbers with some femme’s spare lipstick on the back of a flier from an AT&T booth, his parents had arrived to bail him out. Steve had taken one look at them, at their business clothes and designer watches and worried, beyond confused expressions, and almost said he’d rather just stay behind bars for now.
Instead, he convinced his parents to post bail for a few of his new friends, waved off their gratitude (they’d been through battle together, after all), and followed his parents out to the car after a few hugs and promises to make a group chat so they could hang out later.
“You’re just lucky no charges were filed,” his father says, pulling Steve from his thoughts.
He sighs, slumping down in his seat. A few seconds pass before Steve admits, “I’d do it again.” It’s the truth; he wouldn’t fucking hesitate to throw himself into the fray again. He doesn’t even know those kids’ names, but he knows they deserve more than being afraid of who they are and the monsters that masquerade in human skin around them.
His parents glance at each other, a thousand words spoken in the brief moment of eye contact. “Steve, are you…okay?” his mother asks, her words hesitant. “I mean, you can tell us anything, dear, and we’ll do anything to make you feel better.”
Steve bites his tongue, refusing to ask how they’d manage that when they’re barely fucking home in the first place. They have a whole multi-million dollar company to run, so he gets it. They have to travel a lot, and they used to bring him along until just dropping him in Indianapolis sophomore year of high school (right after coming out to them, which he understood but was still hurt by) to have a “more grounded high school experience." Somehow worst of all, they try to make up for it with extravagant gifts and awkward conversations about whether he’s still gay or if he’s decided to be straight for the day.
They’ve yet to fully understand the concept of bisexuality, but this is far better than being kicked out of his home.
“I’m fine, Mom,” Steve says. Because he is. He’s just…tired.
He’s tired of feeling alone in Indianapolis despite being surrounded by people. He had tried making friends, but everyone is so fucking awkward in 10th grade anyway, and the best Steve could do was embrace the “new rich kid” persona people created for him. He’d soon gained the nickname King Steve, which had only worked to make him feel like he’d somehow done something wrong in living up to their expectations. The closest he’s gotten to feeling like himself, to feeling accepted and embraced, was in that fucking jail cell.
Even worse, Steve is tired of this ache that tugs at the base of his spine and the pit of his heart like he’d find something that’s missing if only he’d just follow the pull.
He doesn’t know how to explain any of that, though, so Steve just sighs again and says, “Maybe…maybe I could do with some down time. Like, a gap year before college or something. I think I just need some time to figure myself out a little more and decide what I want to do with my life before jumping right back into school. Does…does that make sense?”
“Yeah, Steve, it makes a lot of sense,” his father says, flashing him a tiny smile through the rearview mirror. “So, where do you want to go? Hawaii? Miami? Venice is nice this time of year.”
Steve can’t help a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, nothing like that. I think small town vibes are more what I’m going for here.”
His father just hums quietly, sharing another one of those looks with Steve’s mom. He misses this one, but he’d probably be suspicious of them if he hadn’t. He would have known immediately that they were about to do something absolutely ridiculous but well-meaning but so clearly telling of their ignorance when it comes to how people who aren’t wealthy approach problems.
But he doesn’t see, so he doesn’t know.
And when he looks back on this moment a few months later, after the absolute ride of his fucking life, Steve will think it’s a good thing he didn’t notice. If he had, he’d have said something, and then he’d have missed out on all the fun.
#Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins#Stranger Things#Steve Harrington#Steddie fic#my writing#the doc for this is over 40 pages now and like 21k but we're barely halfway through#it's like baby's first slowburn cuz Steddie met at 13k or so LOL
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does marxists dni include anarcho communists who use dialectical materialism/marxism or just marxist leninists
Idk man my country's had a communist government and two Marxist uprisings and they were all a bunch of twats that fucked over everyone as much as the neoliberal government did.
This is going to sound like a rant but it's just me going through a spiel I've had to explain over and over (and I'm still half asleep). If you're for some glorious armed rebellion or believe the only reason communism didn't work in all the other countries was because of the US, or think that all the totalitarianism, ethnofascism and genocides were overinflated, or all the drastic failures was because it wasn't "real communism" then that's what the DNI is for. This shit isn't theoretical to me. I'm tired of the ideology of some white dude two hundred years ago that keeps getting people killed being the be-all end-all of western leftists. There's a reason indigenous activism and most actual decolonial academics don't fuck with communism. And in my experience, communists and anarchists and neoliberals in the West are identical in the experience of BIPOC and the Global South because y'all are racist and ableist as hell. None of you bother to unlearn your imperialist conditioning and US exceptionalism, you're more attached to your minority trauma than liberation and solidarity, and you just want to stuff the world into the shape you have in your head rather embracing decolonization as an evolving and contextual process. Theory and ideology can't teach you humility, compassion, decentering and just listening to the conversation of actual colonized people without inserting yourself.
*shrug* You don't have to agree with me, but if you can listen to Global South people who've lived under communism without going "um, actually" you're welcome to follow. I actually do have communist friends in my own country I can talk with because we've experienced the same shit. But my politics are based on human nature subjected to the power dynamics played out again and again in the patterns of history and looking at what this stuff looks like in practice. And I ain't nobody's comrade.
#really i'm not going off on you i'm just exhausted#asks#anon#western leftists#decolonization#knee of huss
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Where I'm from, Rehna means to stay.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all y'all glorious bastards and bitches!!! Is this a Christmas fic? No, it ain't even a winter themed fic. Butttt, it's a fic I promise to write for @sri-rachaa that I finallyyy decided to finish! So, Rae Rae!!! Here's your surprise (even for me) Christmas fic, featuring your favourite headcanon (that's basically canon), your Lovely OC and my Darlin' OC.
[Thank you soooo much to @daveyistheloml for being my beta reader, and tagging @gingerbreadmonsters and @haradasaya to prove that yes, this is fluff. ;-; I am capable of fluff. ;-;]
CW: Fem! Darlin' and Lovely, both characters have names and use she/her pronous, canon divergent (this takes place in Rae's 'Southern Sibling' AU), Sam is still a freelancer, mentions of Quinn and what he did to Darlin' + Momma Collins talking about asshole Papa Collins, my Darlin' OC is a Toronto girl and for once, I am not ashamed of that
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The lack of… anything in the countryside always left her unnerved.
Where are the buildings? The people? The random squirrel trying to cross the street? All there was for the eye to see was farmland, farmland and the occasional horse.
Maybe part of the reason she was uncomfortable was that there wasn’t anything to distract her from her thoughts. Back home in Toronto (despite living in Dahlia for a decade, she still thinks of Toronto as home), there were a million things to pay attention to.
The crowded streets and equally crowded sidewalks. The cars honking at each other. The trains running beneath her feet. The occasional crackhead that was spewing some wisdom to the people walking by. The guy hiding in the alleyway with something… whether it was a knife or gun, she wasn’t gonna stick around and watch.
Ah, the good old days.
The country didn’t have any of that. Unlike the dangerous city, there was nothing of note to focus on. And the fact she couldn’t focus on anything made her brain go haywire.
In her mind, there was nothing in this world that could make her give up her city ways and live in the middle of nowhere.
“You doing alright, darlin’?”
Or maybe there was someone who could.
Zohniyya looked over to the freelancer driving. She shook her head and said, “nah, I’m good, handsome.” Her gaze returned to the vast nothingness outside. She strained her ears to find signs of life, but all she could hear was the heartbeat of the man next to her.
That ain’t a bad thing to listen to.
Just for tonight, she’ll keep quiet about how much silence bothered her. Sam finds the cornfields and the flat lands comforting, the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves was the sound of home.
But that wasn’t the only reason she was unnerved. She was meeting Sam’s mother for the first time. She is going to have to introduce herself, make a good impression and not fuck up everything like she usually does. It wasn’t like parents didn’t like her, aunties of her childhood adored the girl she was. Always perfectly in control of everything, whether it be of the children or of herself.
But that had been when she was the obedient, depleted girl. Now she was a little wiser, a little colder and knew that the opinions of others didn’t define who she was.
…But holy fucking shit, Zohniyya will drown in her own tears if Sam’s mother showed any kind of disapproval towards her.
She reached into her bag and fiddled with her concealer. Occasionally, she’d look up into her mirror and eye the scars on her face and neck with disgust. The ones he left behind.
‘Maybe I should hide the scars… maybe just the bites…?’
“Put the damn makeup away, Zohniyya.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying Sam, the bite marks? I don’t want your momma to think I’m some sorta chew toy.” That comment caused her a sharp pinch on her thigh.
“You’re not a chew toy, let alone that leech’s,” he snarled. It was his default tone of voice whenever her last relationship was brought up. His knuckles were turning white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.
She grabbed one of his hands, and placed a gentle kiss on it. It wasn’t much, but the simple kiss was enough to relax him, slightly. “I know, meri Chandh Raath. It’s just,” her voice trailed off and she turned back to look out the window. “I want your mom to like me, and the scars… ya know.”
Sam took the concealer from Zohniyya’s hand and chucked it to the back seat, ignoring the complaint from the wolf to be careful with the bottle. “Darlin’, my momma’s gonna love ya. You’re her perfect woman, and she’d kill me if I broke your heart.”
“Ok, but like, wouldn’t you be concerned if our kid brought home a partner with a shit tonna scars?”
“I’d be concerned about our child’s partner rather than judge them.”
Neither of them noticed that they’d said ‘our’ and not ‘your’.
She let out a soft laugh. “You’re such a stubborn piece of shit. Let me loathe in peace you southern bastard.”
“No can do, my darlin’ princess. I made a promise to make you happy, safe and loved. And that’s exactly what I plan on doing, so get that pretty head back onto earth.”
She groaned, “I am not a princess, Sam. We’ve talked about this.”
“Well sure as hell gorgeous like one, Zo.” He barked out a laugh when his darlin’ tried to hit him from her seated position. “There’s that smile of yours.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Despite the harsh words, she was smiling and blushing and feeling light and airy and giddy and she just wants to kiss him and oh God Sam is the best and-
“REHNA!!! She’d be terrified of the scars!!”
Sam scoffed. “Please, Missy likes the weirdest shit, and you are far from weird.” He pulls up to the quaint but beautiful house in the middle of farmland. He stopped them from opening her door, and quickly came to her side of the car, opening it for her.
“Thank you, gentleman.”
He held her hand and helped her out of the car, but before she could walk to the front door, he pulled her close to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “I know you’re nervous, and I get that.” He rubs her back in a soothing manner. “But I promise you nothing bad is gonna happen in there, I won’t let it.” He kissed her hairline to seal the promise.
She smiled at the reassuring words and let out a deep breath. “Ok, handsome.” She pecked his lips and dragged him to the front door. Was her heart pounding so loudly that a human like Sam can hear? Were they three seconds away from shifting and running back to Dahlia?
‘Get your head in the fucking game! You’ve fought people way worse and you were a hockey player and figure skater. You so got this.’
Sam rang the doorbell and she heard someone rushing to the door.
‘Oh I so don’t got this, ami help!!!’
Sam placed both his hands on her shoulder to ground her. He didn’t have to be Avior or Gavin to feel the anxiety roll off her. “You are the Zohniyya Qadir. Toughest wolf from the north. And the only person crazy enough to call me your boyfriend.”
“Hey! If anything, you’re the crazy one for accepting me as your girlfriend!”
She tries to ignore the wolf within her, the one screaming at her to call Sam her mate.
Before Sam could rebuttal, the door opened and a golden blur bolted out the house towards Sam’s legs. “SAMMY’S HOME!” A young girl latched onto him with a death grip and nearly knocked over the healer.
Sam chuckled and patted the little lightning bolt on her back. “Hey there ducklin', happy to see me again?” He didn’t get a verbal response, only a sniffle and a nod. He gave a small smile and lifted her up to carry the little girl. “I know I am, ducklin'. Missed you so much and it’s good to hold you again.”
Little Rehna rested her head on his shoulder and clung onto his neck. “I don’t want you to leave again Sammy… Please don’t leave again…” She started tearing up and Zohniyya had to steel herself to stop herself from crying. She knew the pain of losing a sibling, and she would never wish that pain on anyone.
“Rennie, I’m never gonna leave ya. Sure, I’ll be leaving you once in a while, but I’ll always come back to you and momma, I promise.” He held out his pinky, waiting for Rehna to wrap her own smaller pinky around his. She does, sealing the promise and love between the two siblings.
‘Awww, this is kind of cute… Oh fuck, bitch, do not get baby fever now-’
“Now, I want you to meet someone. Darlin’, this here is my baby sister Rehna, but you’re free to call her Rennie.”
‘Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, do not fuck this up Zo! Or you can start running, whichever works.’
Rehna turned her head to see the brunette and brown eyed shifter standing to the side. She watched as Rehna went wide eyed and her mouth fell open. The worst thoughts filled her brain. That his little sister didn’t approve of her. That she was right, the scars scared her and that the concealer was necessary.
That despite everything she tries to do, she’ll never be enough for Sam and his love.
“Are you a princess? You’re so pretty!”
Oh, so that wasn’t what she expected.
Zohniyya’s shocked expression dissipated when she saw the cocky smirk on her cowboy’s face. She opened her mouth to tell him to ‘fuck off’, but his eyes gestured to the child in the room. It wouldn’t be the worst thing if she swore, it wasn’t like the people around her when she was a child kept it PG.
Right, she had to make a good impression.
“Aww, I’m no princess, kid. I’m just Zohniyya.” She smiled at Rehna, hoping to appear less scary. Her scared and expressionless face tends to terrify people, and little Rehna was the last person she was trying to push away.
The young girl let out a loud and exaggerated gasp. “You’re Sam’s lady! He talks about you all the time! Is it true that you can turn into a wolf? Can you do it now? Please, please, I wanna see!” Sam barely held onto her with all the thrashing and moving she was doing in his arms.
“Alright missy, no need to blindside her like that. She can show you her wolf form if she chooses to, ok?” Despite the pout and puppy dog eyes on Rehna’s face, she nodded in understanding. He put her down onto the ground and continued. “Run along ducklin’. Why don’t you head inside and tell ma we’re here.” Rehna yelled out an “okay” and ran into the house, leaving the wolf and her freelancer outside.
Sam pulled Zohniyya in by her shoulders and rested her head on his chest. “See? Now was that so bad? I told you everything will be ok.” He kissed her forehead and smiled reassuringly.
She let out a shaky breath and whispered, “yea, it wasn’t bad.” She did what she always did when she was overwhelmed and buried herself in his chest. The warmth in her chest brought forth by his heartbeat and scent was enough to bring her down from her spiral. “I’m still worried about your mom.”
He chuckled, “don’t you be worried about ma. She’s been waitin’ to meet you since I told her about us.” Sam gently moved Zohniyya’s head from his chest, needing to look into her eyes. It was his way of telling her that everything will be ok. He kissed her on her lips, wanting to see and adoring the smile that came soon after. “Let’s get inside before the heat knocks ya out, you winter wolf.”
She gasped in offence and punched his shoulder, resting her hand there. “I ain’t ever gonna tell you my southern adventures ever again if you keep teasin’ me about that shit.” Her hand slowly trails down the length of his arms, holding his elbow. “Shall we head inside?”
The southern freelancer pulled her close and straightened his back. “We shall head inside,” he said, and the two walked inside Sam’s childhood home.
The first thing they noticed was the plethora of photos on the wall. Some were as recent as a few months ago. Others were as old as the ranch house. She assumed that every picture was of the Collins family. Sam had mentioned that the Oklahoma ranch and land had belonged to his family for generations, it only makes sense for so many memories to be captured in this space.
It also felt like the old generations of the Collins family were judging her.
“City Scum.”
“Whore.”
“Vampire fuckthing.”
‘No no, do not let those thoughts mess with you now. You’re about to fucking rock this shit and Sam’s mom is gonna love you… Just… don’t fuck it up.’
“See, I knew I was right callin’ you princess.” His smug smile brought her back to reality, if only to want to smack the cocky grin off his face.
“Meri pyaari, meri dunya aur meri akhirah. I love you deeply. But I swear if you don’t knock this shit off, I will smack the shit out of you.” The threat didn’t have its usual heat because of her beaming smile. He didn’t need to know that he’d be the only one who can call her princess.
The couple stepped foot into the living room, where an old woman was fussing over the throw pillows on the couch. She turned to the sound of footsteps and cried out, “dear Lord, you made it!” She launched herself at Sam and pulled him into a tight hug. “Are you ok? How was the drive in? Are ya hungry? Thirsty?” Her lips couldn’t hold back the flood of questions that poured out of her.
The only thing that stopped her borderline interrogation was Zohniyya shyly standing behind Sam. The Collins’ mother shoved her son out of her way to approach the wolf. “Oh where are my manners, my name’s Delilah, Sam’s mother. And yours darlin’?”
“My name’s Zohniyya, ma’am and it’s an honour to meet you. Sam has told me incredible things about you.” She tried to keep her city accent from dripping on her words, something she knew Sam noticed, judging by his quirked eyebrow aimed at her.
Delilah laughed and wrapped her arm around Zohniyya’s shoulders. “No need to be so formal with sugar! Call me DeDe, that’s what all my friends call me.”
Her bright smile made the white wolf relax. “Well in that case, you can call me Zozo, it’s been my nickname for a long a- long time.”
‘Ok, ok this is good! We’re exchanging nicknames, so that means she must somewhat like me.’
Delilah pinched the wolf’s cheeks. “Aww, aren’t you a beautiful precious thing. Sam’s told me a ton about you as well but I wanna hear it from you! Where ya from?” Delilah turned her back to the couple and went back to organizing her living room.
Before Zohniyya could open her mouth and give an answer that bends the truth of her city status, Sam shot her a look that screamed one thing.
“Don’t you dare hide anything about yourself darlin’. All of you is wonderful and I want my mom to understand that.”
She sighed. “I was born in Toronto, but I moved to Dahlia when I was 16. It’s where I live now and I’m in law school to be a lawyer.”
“Ohohoho, my son managed to snag a city slicker like you? And a pretty one at that!” Delilah chuckled at the embarrassed expression on Sam and Zohniyya’s faces. “I hope our humble home is to your liking. I know it ain’t compared to city houses.”
“No, no, your home is wonderful! It’s cozy and I like it!” She was honest when she said that. The Collins’ family home was warm and bright, unlike the harsh grays she’s used to. Every room and crevice had proof that there was love in this house. It was a foreign concept, but not an unwelcome one. “Besides, it reminds me of my uncle's ranch. He had one and we went there all the time as kids.”
Delilah’s eyes widened as her curiosity piqued. She asked, “you have family in the south?”
Zohniyya’s eyes sparkled at that question. “Yea! My mom’s sister and my grandparents lives in Texas and my dad’s brother lives in Louisiana! We used to go down every summer to see’em! The only shit thing was the damn heat. I swear the amount of times I passed out was fucking insane!”
Sam smiled at the sight of his mom and girlfriend conversing as if they were old friends. The more and more Zo spoke, the stronger her accent, one that he loves very much, became. It made him feel giddy to see his wolf laughing with no care in the world, a stark contrast to when he first met her. And sure, part of her laughter was from the stories his mother was spilling, but he’d become a court jester if it means his princess will smile.
Especially if it means she saves that smile for him.
Delilah smacked her thighs and got up. “Gotta get the food ready for us to eat. Sam, come with me and we can let Zo relax for a bit,” she said while walking to the kitchen.
Zohniyya let out a quick “wait” that made the two southerners stop and look back. She shifted her weight between her legs and stuttered, “it’s just- Sam’s been driving the whole way here, the least I could do is help out with dinner?” She said the last phrase hesitantly. She was acutely aware of how seriously ‘southern hospitality’ is taken (it’s no different than ‘Canadian niceness), but truly, she wanted to give the stubborn healer this one break.
“Darlin’, it’s ok. I can set up a table-”
“Sam, why don’t you take Rennie and unpack your truck?” He tried to argue, but his momma gave him the look, the one where you don’t dare defy her orders.
He sighed in defeat. “I swear, y’all are two of the most stubborn women ever.” Sam kissed Zohniyya’s forehead, mumbling, “I’ll see you later.” He called out to his baby sister and left the living room.
Delilah stared at the stubborn yet determined shifter and chuckled. “You remind me of when I was younger.” ‘Is that a good thing? That better be a good thing!’ The old woman started to walk to the kitchen, beckoning the winter wolf to follow her.
The two women started to set up the table before Delilah spoke up.
“There is… Something I wanted to ask… Only if you want to answer.”
Zohniyya quirked her eyebrow and tilted her head. “Of course, ask away.”
“The scars… what happened?”
Her heart dropped to her chest and for a moment, she wanted to shift and run as far as she could. Away from her past that kept her from moving on. Instead, she used her words to try and make things right.
“I’m so sorry, I know the scars are intimidating, but I promise that I’d never let anything like that happen to him. God, I love him so much to ever hurt him like that. I’d burned myself from the inside out than let Sam go through any kind of pain. But if you want me to never speak with him again I totally understand and I’m sorry and-”
Her panicked blabbers were cut off by warm and loving arms wrapped around her. “Darlin’- No, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re perfect for my son, and if I’m being honest, even if I tried to keep him away from you, he’d rip heaven and earth apart to see you again.” She cupped Zohniyya’s face and wiped her tears, like a mother would do for her child. “I wanted to ask because I was worried. Wanted to make sure you were ok.”
Zohniyya choked back a sob that was rising from her throat at the tender words that Delilah was saying. How long has it been since the shifter felt the kindness of a mother? She’d argue that she’s never received that warmth.
Holding the shifter steady, Delilah said, “and if Sam ever lays a hand on you, you come to me and I’ll set that boy straight.”
A pained but quiet laugh came from Zohniyya. “He would never do that, but I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good, it means I raised that boy right.” Delilah went somber. “Sam and Rennie’s father, he… he was a bad man. And I couldn’t bear thinking about if my boy was like him too.” She scoffed, “I know it’s stupid, but there’s a part of me wondering if I left earlier… then maybe it be better for them.”
“Hey.” She held Delilah by her shoulders. “If there is anyone who gets not leaving earlier it’s me.” Zohniyya took a deep breath, preparing her to talk about that asshole. “It took my last boyfriend nearly killing my best friend for me to come to my senses, and the shit I let him do to me…”
Delilah grounded Zohniyya. “We didn’t let anything happen to us, it was their fault, not ours. We didn’t want to get hurt, just to be loved.” Delilah played with Zohniyya’s dark, curly hair. “And I’m glad you got out and that you’re happy.”
“I am, Sam’s to thank for that. I just… You must be such an incredible woman to raise a man like him and I am forever thankful for that.” Her eyes may have been watery, but her smile shone as bright as ever.
Delilah rolled her eyes at the praise. “That’s all him, I didn’t do anything.”
“Sam would call bullshit on that. He always goes on about how you’re responsible for the man he is today, I can see why.”
It was more than the eyes and facial shape the mother and son shared. She could see where Sam got his compassion, his kindness, his stubborn nature and his capability to love from.
Despite his fears that he shared with her, Sam was nothing like his father and now she has the proof to back it up.
Delilah wiped her own tears from her eyes and sniffled, “we should set up the table before Samuel and Rehna get back.”
Zohniyya nodded and picked up where she left off, and for the first time since she got to the house, the weight on her chest was lifted and she could finally breathe again.
“Also another question, I heard that wolves had a thing… mates was it? So am I getting grandkids anytime soon?”
Zohniyya’s stuttered and embarrassed answer was all Delilah needed to let out a good laugh.
--
It was pitch dark and silent that night.
Way too silent than the shifter was used to.
Once she untangled herself from Sam’s arms (she had to put a pillow in her place to make sure he didn't wake up), Zohniyya walked down to the kitchen for some water.
As she drank, she heard another set of footsteps coming up behind her, kicking her senses into overdrive. She damn near shifted at that moment, anything to make sure her man and his family is ok.
But she calmed down when her dark eyes met the watery eyes of Rennie.
She dropped to her knees and opened her arms for the little girl. Rehna ran into her arms and held onto her like Zohniyya was her lifeline. “Hey, hey, you’re alright meri jaan. Wanna tell me what happened?”
Rehna’s voice was muffled from her burying her face in Zohniyya’s chest, but she was able to make out that she said, “scary nightmare.” And that was all she needed to act.
Carefully, she tightened her arms around Rehna and stood up. She ran her hand through the young girl’s blonde hair. “Want me to take you back to bed?” She felt Rennie shake her buried head, a no. Zohniyya stopped for a bit and said, “what if I stay with you tonight?”
That made Rennie pause before nodding her head, prompting the wolf to carry her back to Rennie’s room. Once she got there, Zohniyya tried to put her down, but the blonde had a death grip on her.
When Rennie said she wants Zohniyya to stay, she meant she wants her to hold her while she falls back asleep. She racked her brain for ideas on how to get Rennie to sleep again, until the perfect idea struck her.
“You know what my pack Alpha used to do whenever I couldn’t sleep?” She asked the question quietly, but it was enough to grab Rennie’s full attention.
Her eyes sparkled. “What did he do?” Her voice dripped with childish curiosity, a sort of innocence that Zohniyya will die defending.
“He’d shift for us and let us cuddle his wolf form.” Her eyes went misty from remembering her old Alpha. “Gabe’s wolf form was huge, so even as teens, he’d cuddle us. Something about having wolf fur surrounding you made the nightmares… go away. Or maybe it’s a wolf thing.”
Rehna fiddled with her blanket and shyly asked, “can you give me wolf cuddles too?”
She smiled. “Pyaari, it be my honour. First I need you to close your eyes and no peeking, or else you’re gonna get it.” As with all of her threats from today, it was empty as hell.
Rehna giggled and covered eyes.
Zohniyya got off the bed and removed her clothes. The tension left her body when she shifted, always a welcome feeling. Thankfully, Rehna’s bed was big enough to fit herself and the wolf.
Gently, she climbed onto her bed and nudged the little girl with her snout. It was her cue to finally open her eyes and see the beautiful white wolf in front of her.
“You’re so pretty! You look like snow on a mountain top!” Rennie curled up beside the wolf and buried her face in her fur, her littles gripping the wolf for dear life. She rested her head against Zohniyya's fluffy stomach. “Thank you… for this… I’m gonna go to sleep now…” Rehna’s breathing went quiet and soft snores filled the room.
‘Sonay jao, chunni se munni. Khal, ap tumhari daraona khawab yaad nah rehna.’
--
“Samuel, go get the damn camera now!”
“I’m grabbing it ma, I can only move so fast! I ain’t a damn vamp.”
“Are you giving me attitude Samuel?”
“No ma’am.”
“Good.”
...
“You did well loving her and making her feel loved.”
“Momma, I think it’s my life's greatest achievement having the honour to call her mine.”
“Good, I want her in our lives for as long as possible. Besides, I need grandbabies Samuel!”
“Momma!!!”
#redacted asmr#redacted sam#redacted darlin#redacted lovely#yall this is self indulgent as helllllll#but!!!! i love it!!!!#PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS!!!!#THESE ARE NOT THE CANON REDACTED LISTENERS#anywho southern siblings my beloved <3333#fem! darlin#fem! lovely#also also#this isnt a part of any secret santa even#just something i wroteee#zo writes tingz#this is zo speaking
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✨ Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨
Got tagged by my beloveds, @deedala and @metalheadmickey to complete these two tag games, thank you and hair ruffles to both of you 🥰💙
Name: Lyds
Where in the world are you? Somewhere in Europe
Do you have a favorite towel? I have two sets of the same ones in different colors, I prefer the teal ones
Can you skip rocks? Not that I know
Tell me about a weird slang term from your area: We have very creative curse words in my native language and use "dick" instead of fuck for most things, like "what the dick is going on", "that's dicked up" and so on. We also send people into genitals as curse phrases, my favorite being "go into your mother's cunt" or even better, "go into three mothers' cunts", and all of this is a socially acceptable way of speaking from puberty onward
Favorite toast topping: I'm a savory type of gal and usually butter it and make it into a ham and cheese sandwich, or put pâté on it and some fancy cheese
Thoughts on bread pudding: I don't believe I've ever tried it, but I'm down for pretty much anything when it comes to food
City or country living? Somewhere in the middle, I live in a town with a 15 min walk to the center and am happy with that
How do you cheer yourself up after a bad day? Put on a comfort show or funny clips on youtube
Are you a pessimist or an optimist? I'm one of those annoying bitches that considers herself a realist. It's hard to tell due to my tendency to catastrophize things because of anxiety, though I generally know in my bones that things will work out
Can I tag you in random stuff? Anyone can tag me in anything that makes them think of me, I know my activity fluctuates but I love getting tagged by all of you 💖
----
🔤 Name: Lyds
🎶 Last song you listened to: My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski
🎵 Artist on Spotify giving you the feels right now: Still in my Hozier feels
👯♂️ Fave Blorbo Moment: "I definitely love one", euphoria galore 💙
🍟 Your guilty pleasure snack: Potato chips, I'm a whore for a pack of Lays
🌮 What food are you craving today: More of my mom's chocolate raspberry pie
📖 Last fanfic tab you opened: The Menagerie by @crossmydna, haven't dug into the last chapter yet but will never shut up about how much I adore and recommend this masterpiece of a fic. I haven't read any Kinktober things yet, but plan to correct that soon
🖌️ Favorite fic project you've created: My one and only competed fic so far, Everything
👩🏼🎤 Next tattoo you want (or would consider if you're not a tattoo person): I've never been brave enough to get a permanent tattoo, but I've been feeling zodiac constellations with your zodiac flower instead of stars lately, which would be a formation of (blue) lilies in my case. Definitely in the flowers, pixie/fairy and celestial art camp
🧐🆓 What's living in your head rent free this week: Same as the last four weeks, Our Flag Means Death, with a dash of Con O'Neill side obsession. My love of season 2 continues to consume every part of my brain and I fight the urge to rewatch it all (yet again) on a daily basis, it was glorious and gave me everything 💖
Tagging @look-i-love-u, @vintagelacerosette, @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @gallawitchxx, @rereadanon, @sleepyfacetoughguy, @deathclassic, @thisdivorce, @crossmydna, @heymrspatel, @stocious, @lupeloto, @scurvgirl, @tanktopgallavich, @howlinchickhowl, @squidyyy23 in case you haven't done and would like to do either or both of these, as well as anyone who sees this and would like to play! ✨
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sorry for the spam i just LOVED your gatekeeper jake meta!!
i do have a question as you seem like a pretty good source, if i were to read any of the comics which runs would you recommend?
Hello friend! No such thing as spam in Tumblr land. Like and reblog it all. Go nuts.
(Shameless plug: Check out my other meta that can be found in my intro)
It is true I have read all of moon knight comics. It is also true I have a serious memory problem.
BUT. General consensus, and I agree 100%, is that you need to read the Lemire x Smallwood run.
I'm going to be controversial. Start with Ellis (see long rant below to see why). 100% read Lemire. If you read nothing else, read Lemire. Then read Mackay.
I also recommend you pick up and read some of the original stuff, just to see where it all started. There's a lot of it. It suffers from old comic book syndrome, but some of it is really quite good and beautiful.
If you REALLY want to know more... Here's a Brief Timeline!
So the first Moon Knight was in Werewolf by Night, in which he was hired to hunt down Jack Russel.
They liked his character and design and he got his own comic!
This is the Moench run collection that spanned from the 70s through the 80s.
Then there was a long dry spell. LONG dry spell. He popped up now and then in the background and various other one shots.
But then Huston got his mits on him in 2006 with "The Bottom"
This is actually where I started because it is the more modern run.
However, this period is also very rough. He's called Schizophrenic, they use outdated terminology (Multiple Personality instead of DID). It highlights the crazy aspect and is very violent oriented.
But it's also a little fun and there are a lot of good classic moments found in these runs. You are also going to start finding some pretty amazing artwork in these runs (Deodato!)
The Huston and later Benson runs (The Bottom, Midnight Sun, God and Country, Death of Marc Spector, and Down South) are a good look at how messed up Marc lets himself get. Full of angst and him pushing people away. You don't see a lot of Steven and very little Jake in these. Marc is crawling through his mental health issues and you also get a look at his relationship with Marlene.
NEXT: 2009. The Hurwitz runs! (Shock and Awe, Killed Not Dead, and Shadowland.)
This run was actually pretty good. If memory serves me well (and it doesn't), I enjoyed the stories that were told here. You get a more messed up Marc, but Marc was TRYING. You see him struggle with his mental health and struggle to do good.
PLUS. Shock and Awe has THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ART. I loved the design of his suit and it showed peak Marc Spector fighting style of "I'm just going to throw my body at things until they don't get back up". You also get to see him interacting with other Marvel characters (Avengers, Captain America, Punisher, ect.). This is always interesting because they don't know what to do with him. You start to see the ableism set in and how much he's not just fighting himself but he's also fighting how others see him.
NEXT UP: 2011. Bendis. "The Heroic Age". This man nearly ended Moon Knight. It was bad. IT WAS SO BAD. No one talks about this run. It didn't happen. Skip it. Don't even pretend to buy it. If you want it, steal it. Get it from the library. Don't waste your money.
Bendis labled Moon Knight a Psychophrenic lunatic, sent him to L.A. to work on a 'team' then messed up his whole characterization and everything he stood for. It was bad.
NOTICE THE GAP HERE. NEXT RUN WASN'T UNTIL 2014!!!! That's how bad Bendis fucked up.
Warren Ellis and Declan Shalvey took Moon Knight over in "From the Dead".
The story here is seriously lacking, but the art is amazing. This is ALSO where you are going to meet Mr. Knight for the first time and he is glorious.
Ellis is known in comic land for writing some of the darkest Punisher content that Marvel put out. He's known for blood and guts and violence. So… just keep that in mind.
But here we see someone that refuses to acknowledge who he is. There is no Steven Grant, no Jake Lockley, and he refuses Marc Spector. This is a man that had a serious mental break and is clawing up from the mudd and trying so hard to fix himself by not being himself. One might even say he's in a dissociative state this whole run.
Next we have "Dead Will Rise" by Brian Wood and Smallwood. It follows where Ellis left off and you start to get some of that Delicious Smallwood art. The story does pick up a bit here, but it's still very ambiguous and barely holds the Moon Knight title.
You see, Bendis really fucked up things and they didn't want him to be seen as "That crazy guy" anymore. So they play it safe and you get more of the original supernatural stuff that happened back in the day with Werewolf by night.
"In the Night" is next in this series by Cullen Bunn and Ron Ackins. Again, art is pretty good here and you start to get some of the old Marc Spector back in this. He crashes more vehicles and you see his reckless style start to creep back in. Story is still barely there, but it's descent. Again, we see Marc start to decline in mental health. He's alone, he's destructive, he's violent.
NEXT UP: 2016. ENTER LEMIRE.
Bless this man.
Lemire saw the Smallwood art in "Dead will Rise". Smallwood loved working on Moon Knight.
But Smallwood is a busy man in the comic universe. Lemire knew Smallwood was going to struggle to keep up with the schedule. And Lemire had a hell of a story to tell.
THIS MAN. He broke his story up into three other parts and hired three other artists that had VERY unique and distinctive styles.
This let him break his story up so that you knew each part by the art!!
WTF. When the story was important and back on the main plot, Smallwood would come back in and tell it with his smooth and amazing art.
Then as the series progresses and gets more and more into it, you see all the art styles crash into the pages until he brings it back home in one final breath taking scene where Smallwood collects them again and sends them off.
Gonna fucking cry here. Gimme a minute.
So anyways: The Lemire run.
(Lunatic, Reincarnations, Birth and Death.) Three volumes in which we see Marc Spector's mental break down, the fall out, and how he builds himself back up. We see his friends from the past, we see Steven and Jake find their place, and we see Marc start to accept that he is a broken man. It's a beautiful story. It's hard to follow sometimes and a little confusing at first, but once you get to the end it all makes sense and it's so beautiful. Lemire is what inspired the MCU show, in case you were unaware.
Ugh. Next. BEMIS. 2017. Fucking Bemis.
"Legacy" (Crazy runs in the family and Phases)
Bemis took what Lemire did and shit all over it.
I swear this man did no research into the character. He just went, "Crazy huh? What if he's SUPER CRAZY AND EATS RABID DOLPHINS" (this happened. I'm not kidding). He tries to reboot Moon Knight. He fucking UGH. He tries to explain what caused his DID. He just… UGH. Antisemetic bullshit and he should have known better. UGH.
Only good thing to come out of it is that you find out Marc and Marlene had a daughter and she's pretty badass.
Then in 2018 we got "Avengers Age of Khonshu" by Jason Aaron. This was a marvel tie in event. I have THOUGHTS about tie in events and none of them are good.
Basically Khonshu tries to take over the world. He uses Marc. Now the Avengers think Moon Knight is a threat and needs to be watched in case his god tries to do anything again. Khonshu gets locked up in Asgard and Marc is now on his own.
Jason Aaron, much like Ellis, is also known for his incredibly dark and gritty comics. He also did Punisher Max and is a huge name in the comic world, but you have to have the stomach for him. I guarantee there will be vomit, spitting, and blood in everything he does. It's like a trademark.
This brings us to 2021" MACKAY!
(Midnight Mission, Too Tough to Die, and Halfway to Sanity)
Mackay looks back at Lemire and goes, "Hey… what happened?" This man does the unthinkable. He doesn't reboot. He starts with the Mr. Knight that was given to us by Ellis and Wood, takes the story that Lemire gave us, and then acknowledges the bad in Bemis and Aaron.
HE TIES IT ALL TOGETHER. We see Marc that has started his heaing journey from Lemire but stumbled into his old bad habbits from Bemis. We see Marc trying to repair his reputation from Aaron and desperate to hate himself and forget himself.
We see him build back to his old habbits until Jake and Steven re-enter the picture and I couldn't be happier with how he does it.
He understands and runs with real DID awareness. He talks about Marc's PTSD. He lets the work as a system. He tells a story. He's bringing in Fucking Dracula. This man knows his memes.
The run is still going and I am excited to see what he does next. Can he just keep Moon Knight in his pocket for a while? I would love that. Just… Let him hold him a while longer.
.........TLDR: Depends on what you like. If you are new to comics and just want to get your food in the door, read Lemire then skip to Mackay.
If you like what you see and want to get more in depth. You want to know who Frenchie and Gena are (I love them so much) dip your toe into the early stuff with the OG Moench. If you want to see where Marc started to break down and a more modern Moon Knight came about, go to Huston and work your way through it. If you just want to see enough to get you to Mackay, start with Ellis.
#Got asked#I rambled#Does...does this make sense?#I haven't slept and I'm pretty out of it#I need to go back and just reread it all#new years resolution: reread all of moon knight and take notes#Weren't expecting this when you asked me that were you?#haha oops
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Summer Reading/Writing/Arting Tag
Yo, I was tagged by @chennnington over here to do this thing and it does look like fun, so why not!
But I'm also going to be boring since idk who to tag, so anyone is free to fill this thing out if it hits your dashboard. ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ Go knock yourselves out.
1) Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the summer.
Thanks to Enderal kicking my creative nuts into gear and being recently liberated from certain "game-master" obligations (long, long ass story that'd probably go over most Tumblr folks' heads, anyway), I finally started diving back into a sapphic-flavored dark fantasy book series that I'd been planning since like around 2016 or so. It was mostly born out of some frustrations with the lack of WLW in general, and while I have some WLW elements in my existing works, I wanted to write something that was more overtly WLW with a leading lady who was outgoing about her sexuality than my previous protagonists (who are either repressed as fuck or too dead to hold a relationship that would function) and wouldn't take her four dang novels to finally kiss a girl.
Anyway, Morane Soraya was created from a whole mess of complicated feelings about women in media. I describe her as a combination of Julie D'aubigny and Anne Lister, with a bit of Christina of Sweden (all of who were badass women in history. Look 'em up!). I wrote a lot about the basics of who she is/what she's all about here.
Morane is a good bean:
Book 1, Bloodtithes, will go into her venturing into a scarcely-visited icy continent to investigate a possible cure or effective treatment to the painful condition she had been forced to live with, which gives her the proficiency she has in Blood Magick (which isn't inherently evil in her world, but very often misunderstood because of its side effects). She's from a mercenary group who all share the same condition and propensity for Blood Magick, so they're interested in this so-called "cure" as well, but not many make it to this country and survive, so Morane is sent alone instead. Along the way, she meets a horned jackal-man named Darius ka Dir, and gets entangled in a plot with a strigoika named Viorica Avanas who has a whole buttload of inner demons of her own (side note: I once played Vio in Skyrim to mess around with Kaidan and they got into some... Situations).
A friend drew Darius and he has a single giant and glorious curl that he is very serious about.
I've also talked a lot about Jade for my Enderal stuff, who was already based on an existing character, and I've figured out how to work her into Morane's world. She won't factor in until Book 2, Cloverleaf, because she's essentially gonna tear down a wall and break freaking everything.
You know. Like she do.
It's still in the planning stages but I'm feeling pretty good about it.
2) Rec a book!
I just started reading Dreams of the Dying by Nicolas Lietzau, which I'm enjoying a lot, but haven't read enough yet to form a coherent recommendation on it. I just got the audiobook though so I'm looking forward to that!
Otherwise, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski is one of my favorite novels of all time and was a major writing inspiration for me. It's creative in how it gets you to feel uneasy while you're reading the book itself, a huge mindfuck, and one of the few novels that actually made me feel a sense of dread while I was reading it.
If you'd like some seriously bonkers reading material, I'd suggest giving it a looksee.
3) Rec a fic! (outside your character tag)
Iiii don't actually read fanfiction that much, so I'm not sure if I can rec one!
On the flipside, feel free to rec me some Enderal fics (or your own, if you have any). I'll read the shit out of it.
4) Rec music!
I can't recommend Murder by Death to people enough. They're my all-time favorite band, one of the few I've ever made an effort to go see live when they were playing in my city (just before lockdown hit, no less), and deserve more love. I've been listening to them since I discovered them high school and their albums just keep getting better and better.
Also it's not hard for me to find some character-centric songs from them because the topics they write about is very versatile. I tend to think of Lost River for Jade's story, and Ditch Lilly and Rumbrave for Rey's.
5) Share one piece of advice!
Writing women! Because I guess this one needs telling as there are people who still find writing female characters daunting or somehow more difficult than it is to write men. Which, fair, I was the same way. Despite having mostly female protagonists in the novels I'd written, the dudes in my earlier stuff somehow ended up taking the spotlight and stealing most of the development. I really struggled to work through some of my own internalized misogyny and "there are no good female characters in media" mindset, and it took a lot of opening my mind up before it got easier. Now I predominately focus on writing women to be that change I want to see - this includes not killing certain ones off to enhance manpain like I used to, which I learned was called "fridging", lol.
My advice for writing them is to just write them as characters. It sounds simple and stupid, but I'm surprised how much people get wrapped up in the "she must be a strong girlboss" brainrot that they end up with a very flat, boring character that literally no one can relate to, so she still gets outshined by the dudes because the writer tried to overcompensate her badass womanliness without giving her actually compelling character traits.
I feel like one of the main reasons why I absolutely adored Ellen Ripley when I was a kid was because she was written to be a man in the first Alien movie, but they changed the character into a woman without changing the script and it just worked. I didn't know that when I was young, but finding that out just made me appreciate Ripley so much more, because the writers didn't treat her like a "strong female character" but as just a character. I think if writers approached this mindset more, we wouldn't have the "no good female characters in media issue" that doesn't need to be an issue in the first place.
These days I approach character-building by not restricting certain traits by gender, and finding a balance between strengths and weaknesses. Just shut off your critical analysis brain to create a "strong female character" and just write "strong character" instead.
I could word vomit more about my own ladies and how much I love them now than I used to but I feel like this has gone on long enough. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#tag game#writing#bloodtithes#morane soraya#darius ka dir#look at him#look at his beautiful curl#guess i can babble more about this series in the future if anyone's interested#friend's art
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Pirate Week: Jack of All Trades Floundering Father and Shark Bait Reviews: Bizzaro Blackbeard (Comissoned by Weirdkev27)
Ahoy me hearties and welcome back to Pirate.. two consecutive days. Today we look at one of the most infamous scourges to ever sail the seven seas, Blackbeard!
No not that one.
Sadly not him either. I gotta get back to that series sometime. Maybe next month. No instead of talking about the good blackbeards we're talking about the version from Jack of All Trades.
Before we can get into this disapointment, let's talk about the show itself.
Jack of All Trades was syndicated show in 2000, lasting for two seasons (one 16 episodes the other 8) and part of the back2back action hour with Cleopatra 2525, about an exotic dancer who gets put in cryo sleep and winds up leading a revolution against robots.
Like Cleopatra 2525, Jack of All Trades likely would've been lost ot the sands of time were it not for one man, it's star, your surrogate uncle and mine, the man the myth the chin BRUCE MOTHERFUCKING CAMPBELL. Kev seems determined to one day have me review everything bruce has been in.. which will probably include mchale's navy by the end
For now though this is the good stuff, as jack was also executive produced by Bruce's ride or die best buddies Robert Tapert and Sam Rami.
Jack follows Jack Styles, america revolutionary war hero and either ash williams great great great great great grandpa.. or possibly a time lost Ash Williams who became his own grandpa Phillip J Fry style. The world will never know.. until Dynamite FINALLY does a crossover for it. Come on guys. It's fish in a barrel. Kev even pitched the crossover to me: Ash goes back in time and has to team up with Jack to stop Napoleon from getting his hands on the necronomicon.
Anyways back to the premise: Jack is tapped by president jefferson to go to the french ruled island of Pualu-Pualu in the east indies and stop the various plots of the french. His contact, partner and object of romantic tension is british scientest Emilia Rothschild, played by Angela Dotchin. Jack masquerades as Emilia's houseboy, then goes into actoin as the Darring Dragoon. Yes folks this is also basically a superhero show. The two frequently foil the local Govenor Croque, ocasionally napoleon himself.. and hilariously enough often also scheme to keep Croque in power as his incompetence makes their jobs easier than if Napoleon sent people with actual talent.
It's both a great setup and a purposfully thin one: within this the duo can do just about any nonsense the writers want. This includes, just from wikipedia episode blurbs: Jack having to beat Napoleon in poker to keep the louisana purchase, help croque fuck his wife better, get cathrine the great her horse back so she dosen't blow up the island, and get amnesia via a pig. The show is really just an excuse for slapstick nonsense, wordplay, our two leads to banter, and for every man on the island to hit on amelia to remind you this show was made in 2000 and everybody was super extra triple horned up those days.
So how did my first round of getting to know jack pan out? Why does this blackbeard suck so much? How does leonardo divinci factor into all of this? Join me under the cut to find out.
The Floundering Father:
This episode SHOULD have been an easy slam dunk. I mean look at the image I chose. Really look at it. It has Bruce Campbell in an old timey sleeping outfit. Bruce Campbell, already in his pajamas. That visual gag alone should've won this 29 emmys.
But.. the rest of the episode simply dosen't live up to that glorious image you see. It's main problem is it's running gag for the episode: Jack and Emilia bicker about which is better, America or England. Which is laughable today as while I love my country, we've got a dumptruck load of problems.. and so does the uk.
It dosen't work character wise because while I get this show is over the top and what not, I do... it dosen't paint the best picture of emilia that she's overdefnding a country that till very recently opressed Jack's country. I get it's her homeland and the man later says he wishes he could put her boobs on a teddy bear
But it's still pretty tone deaf to tell your partner "Golly the people who opressed yours you had to fight to get away from sure are great".
I'd be able to overlook it.. if it was funny. Instead it's just every two minutes or so "AMERICA GREAT" "NO BRITAN" "AMERICA" "BRITANNNN" "AMERICAAAAAAA FUCK YEAH " "BRITAN FUCK YEAH " "mericamericaMERICACAAAAA" "BRITANBRITANJOLLYGOODPIPIPBRITAN"
It drags down the episode every. fucking time. And this being the first jack of all trades I saw had me worried their like this EVERY TIME. Thankfully the next ep, which we'll get to shortly, settled more into the two just bantering and nicely complimenting each other as a team: emilia is the brains and creates vehicles and inventions and such to help them, while jack is the more wordly brawn, able to use his fists and spycraft while loudly complaning and making puns and what not. They have way more chemistry there then here where it just gives me a migraine.
That said it's not ALL their fault the episodes a bit of a slog. Mostly but still Blackbeard dosen't help. Blackbeard is played by Hori Aphene here and credit to the show for casting a POC actor. I didn't even know historical blackbeard wasn't white till our flag means death. The character himself is just .. mostly shouting and being gross.
God bless HOri he's trying really hard, it's the writing that lets him down. I will give this version points for breathing fire
but all the shouting in the world can't make this character funny, threatning or remotely intresting and it only gets worse next episode.
The combo of the lackluster guest star and bickering just makes this one a chore to get through but there are SOME bright spots of light. Croque and his minon, Brogard, pull a clever plan, having Brogard take Benjamin's franklin's place as hostage.
The main saving grace of this episode though is Benjy himself: for starters he's kindapped for the most gloriously stupid reason imaginable: Napoleon wants to force him to build a super weapon to destroy the white house. That itself would be good.. but what takes it over the top and really told me what this show true form is.... the weapon is a GIANT KITE. Yes they took the one thing any person knows about ben franklin and made it into a doomsday device. I fucking love everything about this. This alone got my interest back.
Ben Himself is just a lot of fun. While some of the jokes are just him eating a lot aka
Outside of that he's great, and his little mentorship with elizabeth, both being in awe of her designs and helping her figure out why her sub's engine's not working is genius. Elizabeth's submarine itself looks great.
The climax.. is also a lot of fun. The Dragoon battles blackbeard while as Jack he eventually has to hold two wires together and gets after effects lightninged all over. It's wonderfully dumb.
All in all this episode is just..
Has some highlights towards the end but most of the first two acts are a slog. Thankfully the next one's MOSTLY better.
Shark Bait
This one is better... though just to get it out of the way blackbeard is far worse. While he wasn't great in the first, the pirate ship was at least fun for a climax and he had the delightfully insane quirk of breathing fire. Here it just takes all his traits that made him hard to watch the constant shouting, the poor hygine jokes him creeping on elizabeth.. and..
I have to adress this in a bit more detail. The show is REALLY creepy with elizabeth at times, both with the fanservicy outfits (which are less to show off her sexuality and indepnednce and more LOOK EVERYONE BOOBS), the whole teddy bear joke but especially blackbeard who JUST WON'T STOP hitting on her and the show treats it like a wacky joke. I get this is the 2000s, it's why it dosen't destroy the episode for me but it's still just gross and I suspect something i'll have to deal with all series long. We even get a morning wood joke with jack which comes off as HAHA GET IT HE ASSAULTED HER. Her sexual indginities are treated as one big joke and it's VERY hard to stomach. Thankfully the show has a rapid fire pace to iron it out but I just.. woudln't feel right never adressing this.
But combinging with that with just "ISN'T THIS GUY GROSS JOKES" makes blackbeard fucking intolerable. Someone having pooor hygine.. just isn't funny. It wasn't funny when I was 10 and it's not funny now. Now you can MAKE someone's horrible hygine funny. Observe
Here the jokes are.. jokes. He's dirty, but they find ways to play with the joke. Someone being gross isn't funny unless you find a way to give it character. Blackbeard just shouts and smells bad. That's it. That's what they did with the character.
While BLackbeard dosen't help the episode the episode itself.. is a LOT of fun thankfully. Jack and elizabeth's banter is thankfully way more varied here, with jack being annoyed at her modes of transportation. A standout is jack preparing to fist fight the crew of the sub they've ended up on.. before Amelia points their outnumbered and they both hide. This seems more like what the series is actually like: two very diffrent people bickering and bantering and complementing each other. Jack even points out the obvious issue of using blackbeard to help them get around the ship: that he could recognize them from last time and it adds some nice tension. And ironically , if naturally it's jack who accidently blows it by mentoining her sub.
The plot itself is delightfully nuts: it starts out simple enougH: a mysterious sea monster is sinking ships going into palu-palu, and Elizzabeth ropes jack into helping it. We also get some classic bruce campbell wordplay as jack isn't pro pro bono. I swear no one else could pull that line off.
So our heroes use the sub, a nice call back, and it ends up swallowed by the monster.. which turns out to be a giant hammerhead shark shaped sub itself. That would be bonkers enough... but then we get to whose behind it: Nardo DaVinci, descendant of Leonardo Divinci. Nardo is a hell of a lot of fun, mostly berating his minons for being absolute morons, assuming a ping on the radar is just a fish, not bothering to search the sub for people and in my faviorite moment of the episode when the heroes later baricade themselves, trying to break down the door WITH A TORPEDO.
Said torpedo is the crux of Nardo's naturally over the top and hilariously stupid plan: he's invented the first, a nice little use of real world stuff before it's time. That'd be neat and all but the bonkers spice is his target: the annual founding father's father son boat cruise, where the founding families all take a trip out to sea. Just the.. concept alone is funny. Nardo helps his case by also being compitent: he repeadtely plans to have his men just shoot our heroes and ONLY gets sidetracked when Jack baits his ego.. and even then he plans to have them all shot to death right after and only looses them because Blackbeard can breathe fire. And let's face it "this pirate we're facing can breathe fire" isn't exactly something you can plan for. If your curious Nardo's crew shanghied blackbeard (and the previous ships) for his loot and have been making him swab the deck. It's also why the heroes use him at all as he ALLGEDLY knows his way around.
Our heroes escape is even more bonkers: our heroes have to SHOOT THEMSELVES OUT OF A TORPEDO TUBE. And jack has to make the lever swing since no one can pull it for him. And all of this is complete with hilariously cheap greenscreen.
Our finale is a fuckton of fun. Our heroes can't persue them in the sub since, unlike last time, it gives them no element of suprise and a boat is worse than useless. So how do they stop this dastardly da vinci?
So eliza has a hot air balloon they plan to use to huck stuff at the sub. They do end up dislodging the torpedo but have to hang loose from blackbeards farts. I.. I wish that wasn't a plot point. He figures out who they are.. but in TRYING TO MANUALLY PICK UP A TORPEDO HE FALLS DOWN AND APPARENTLY DIES DESTROYING THE SUB.. which somehow survivies fine as blackbeard is back aboard. Either way it's an awesome climax.
Overall Shark Bait is a solid episode with a fun guest star. It's brougth down because their version of blackbeard just plain sucks, but since future episodes i'll be covering don't have him, i'm happy to cover the series again. It's got a lot of fun qualiteis and let's face it i'll watch anything with bruce campbell in it, paid or not. Thanks for reading
#bruce campbell#jack of all trades#blackbeard#benjamin franklin#pirate month#pirates#sam rami#robert tapert
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