#mars writes sometimes
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Home, Sweet Home
Hey all,
once again has resbang season slipped by and I am here with another entry. I had a little trouble with this one—life, writers block and the like, but I hope you can enjoy!
Just wanted to give a ginormous thank you for everyone that carried me through these couple months: My team of two wonderful artists— @anonbaph and @not-so-scandalous. My beta @louvioun who dragged me out of the ninth circle of hell, just in time for me to post this. And, of course, claps to the mods(@resbangmod )—who’ve been throwing this wonderful event together for a DECADE. Cheers to, hopefully, many more to come.
Summary: After spending a lonely summer with her mother in Japan after her parent's divorce, Maka moves back to her hometown ready to start the harrowing journey of forging the world's next Death Scythe. In the meantime, she still has to grapple with the mistakes of her father, still fresh in her mind, while also keeping enough composure to find a partner she can resonate with. Will she learn how to blaze her own trail, or will the pressure of filling shoes too big come back to bite before she can even try?
Give the art some love!!
Baph: HERE
Not-So-Scandalous: HERE
read the story: HERE
as always, thanks for having me, excited to do it all over again next year!
-mars <3
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okay, since you said more requests are welcome: 13. and/or 30. for a Mick ship of your choosing would be sweet <3
one 13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions and 30. Only one bed, coming right up
I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums
700 words
Rated G probs
Tommy/Mick
also on ao3 for ur reading comfort
“Don’t fall asleep.”
The voice was the only bridge left between him and reality.
“You have to go home, c’mon.”
Oh the dulcet tones, oh the velvety flow.
“You can’t do this,” the voice slurred. “That was my bed, man.”
“Sure I can.”
“No you can’t.”
Mick put his best effort into shrugging. His shoulders rose directly into the couch cushions, and his spine woke up again, but that was the price to pay.
“Move over, I’m not sleeping on the ground.”
“Should’ve thought about it. Before.”
Tommy rummaged near the couch. He could hear the sound of his steps, hurried, unsure, but he couldn’t see anything. His eyelids weighed a million pounds. So much he could never open them again. Already sleep crept up on him again, heavy as lead. Tommy would find something else. He always did. Mick let the pathetic ripped cushions absorb the ache in his back (nevermind tomorrow) and the vague sensation of nausea that he was used to ignoring.
Finally comfortable.
That is, until a sharp and bony asshole wormed himself on the thin strip of fabric that was left between Mick and the abyss beyond the couch.
“Move the fuck over,” he muttered through the haze. Halfway muffled into a forearm, not his own.
“Should’ve thought about it before.”
So that didn’t fall in deaf ears. He could hear the self-sufficient smirk. How proud he was of tormenting his own guitarist.
“Go find somewhere else to crash.”
“No,” Tommy sighed, nuzzling in the eviscerated armrest above Mick’s head. “The one and only night I don’t go off with a girl, you steal my bed.”
“That’s not your bed,” he could only answer. A peaceful slumber was so near, just beyond his fingertips, and he couldn’t reach the sweet black hole of bliss because he was boxed in an angular hug with the worst chatterbox he had ever met. A solid headache rooted behind his eyes started making surface.
“Yes it is,” Tommy yawned. “Vince locked the room.”
“Sleep on the ground, then.”
He usually bit back these kinds of comments. Not that they didn’t deserve it, but he’d rather not get booted from the band before they could do anything of value. It just wasn’t worth the argument. Well. It still wasn’t, but fuck that. He wanted the couch to himself, not an elbow in his ribs.
“Dude, you’re so mean to me.” He could hear the pout in Tommy’s voice.
He debated answering. What, though? What could be answered? Yeah, he was mean. Loud, rude, and aggressive. His spine was starting to hurt from the contrived position Tommy had shoved him in, against the back cushions. It was way too late, and way too many drinks for that. He closed his eyes harder.
“You don’t wanna be nice and share with a friend, Mick?” he poked the shoulder that was nearest.
“No.”
“Aw, you don’t like me,” he was sounding way too pleased saying that. The kid had something in mind. Some devious plan. “I thought you were cool, man!” He sighed, but Mick would not mistake a setup for some kind of genuine sadness. Tommy wasn’t even capable of thinking people didn’t like him.
“I was on the couch first.” That felt safe to settle on. And efficient. Goal-oriented.
“And that was my couch first,” Tommy protested.
“Finders keepers.”
“Piss off,” he said, and as he said it, his hand began absentmindedly running up and down Mick’s back. A gentle touch, almost something he would’ve believed Tommy incapable of.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he raised his voice the best he could, drowned as he was between couch and man, “don’t fall asleep here.”
“I told you that,” Tommy yawned again. “You move if you want. ‘m staying.”
Mick groaned. His voice was sounding too low, too slow, for him to have any hope. Tommy would sleep here no matter what. He was well and truly stuck.
“Love you, dude. G’night,” Tommy settled his chin atop Mick’s head, the buzz of his voice in his throat right next to Mick’s ear. But despite that, his fingers dancing lightly along Mick’s back didn’t stop. His other arm slid up a little, nestled comfortably between the two of them. His breath slowed down, deep, steady, rhythmic. He radiated warmth.
Something was amiss, but for the life of him, Mick couldn’t focus. Sleep was catching up.
“Love you too, dude,” he murmured while he still could.
Tommy hummed gently in response.
#motley crue#motley crue fanfiction#tommy lee#mick mars#motleyposting on main#i write things sometimes#rpf#is this my best work? no. is it titled after the kesha song? yes. so that's all okay in the end.
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Snippet Thursday, Week Two: Blackmail Au
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Kleiver stormed out of the hold of the air train, dragging the boy by the collar. He was fighting every step of the way, but Kleiver far outclassed him for height and weight. Jak's feet kicked and scrambled for purchase in the dusty mesa top. Damas tensed. What was the idiot doing? Jak barely trusted him as it was!
"Kleiver!" Damas hurried out of the temple courtyard, one hand already outstretched as if to pry the man's hand free. "Let him go!"
Kleiver swung his arm, sending the skinny teen careening into Damas’s chest. Hastily, Damas caught Jak and pushed the boy behind him.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"I told you I ain't no babysitter!" Kleiver growled, "Do you know what this stupid ankle-biter did?! Risked blowing the entire operation!"
"It worked, didn't it?" Jak snapped. He straightened out his tunic and bared his teeth.
Kleiver pointed a thick finger at the boy, who puffed out his chest as if trying to make himself look bigger and more intimidating.
"Volcan help me, lordship, but if I have to chase after your whelp in Haven again, he's comin' back in irons."
"You're gonna lose some fingers if you even try," Jak retorted.
"Enough." Damas turned slightly, keeping himself between them. "Kleiver, did you complete your mission?"
The mechanic sneered. "Aye. The ol' gangster's provided a thoughtful banquet for the sharks."
"Good." Damas nodded sharply. "I'll have Elgar choose a Gila to take his place in the food chain. You may return to Spargus."
As Kleiver started to go, Damas cleared his throat.
"And Kleiver? I would hope that my Wastelanders know not to grab a viper by the tail and expect not to be bitten."
"Sire?"
Damas raised an eyebrow and muffled an amused smirk. "If you put your hands on the boy again, I'm not going to stop him from defending himself."
Kleiver nodded a grudging assent and leveled an irate look at Jak. He stalked back to the air train, passing a bewildered Sig with a small bundle in his arms.
Damas’s heart lodged in his throat. The name died on his lips in a voiceless whisper. Did he dare hope?
Sig met his gaze with tears glittering in his eye. He nodded once, then set the bundle down. Out of an oversized jacket -- Jak's, Damas realized after a moment -- a little brown face appeared, haloed by curls as green as cactus. He looked around him with wide eyes, and Damas's heart ached. Mar had never been to the monastery. He'd been far too young. How strange it all must seem to him! Then Mar noticed him, and his breath froze in his lungs.
The tiny boy squinted against the glare of the sun, and then let out an almighty shriek.
Bare feet smacked against rock as Mar pelted towards him. He slammed into Damas’s knees and flung his arms around his legs. With a choking sob, Damas collapsed. He pulled his son into his arms and rocked back and forth. It took all his strength not to weep uncontrollably. He kissed Mar's forehead and then pressed his fist to his mouth, vainly trying to stifle the tears.
Mar's little brow wrinkled and he began to look upset. "Daddy, you're cryin!"
He squirmed to make his signs visible.
"Why are you sad?"
Unable to think straight, Damas said the first thing that came to his mind.
"I missed your birthday, twice! And- and I missed all of your brother's birthdays!"
Mouth forming a perfect little "o", Mar looked to Jak for confirmation. When the older boy only shrugged, Mar gasped.
"That is sad! Jakky didn't get any presents?!"
Jak bit his tongue before he could say 'I got tied to a chair and pumped full of dark eco for my last two birthdays.' Mar would never know what the Dark Warrior Program was, not if Jak had anything to say about it.
"We hafta get Jak a present!" Mar decided, "Then you won't be sad anymore! How much money you got?"
Jak burst out laughing behind them.
He sat cross-legged on the ground with a thump, waiting for Daxter to bring the dog down from the transport. He was beginning to suspect that he knew how the animal would respond to his so-called parent. Chopper had certainly been excited to see Sig. If Damas also got the dog's seal of approval, then maybe Jak could relax a little. Think of these men like Torn or Vin, perhaps.
Jak picked up a pebble and rolled it across the tops of his fingers.
"So...you remember this guy?" he asked his baby brother.
"Yah!" Mar nodded firmly. "That's Daddy! See? I 'membered. I'm not a baby!"
Jak scoffed. "Yeah you are."
"Not!"
"A tiiiiny baby."
"No I'm not!"
A mischievous smirk tugged the corner of Jak's mouth.
"100% baby."
"No!!" Mar yelped. He crossed his arms and huffed, turning his face away from Jak haughtily.
"In a manner of speaking, he's correct," Damas croaked, wiping his eyes. "You've gotten very tall, Mar. But you'll always be my baby."
"See? Told ya." Mischief sparkled in Jak’s eyes.
Mar scowled. "I don't wanna be a baby! I'm gonna get as big as Jakky! Ba said I could!"
Just as quickly as it had come, Mar's ire subsided as he thought of a new question.
"Is my blankie clean?"
Damas blinked. "What?"
"My blankie!" Mar insisted, "Remember? You said? You said you'd wash it and then the bad guy came in the house?"
Damas was thunderstruck. Mar remembered that? He shoved aside the dismal thought of the toddler missing his favorite blanket for two long years and cuddled his son closer.
"Yes, Daddy washed your star blanket," he said after clearing his throat. "It's- It's right on your bed, waiting for you to come home."
Jak winced beside them. He couldn't imagine someone waiting for him to come home. Had his "uncle" even lived long enough to realize he and Daxter hadn't come back? Had anyone held onto his bug collection, just in case he ever wandered back into the village? He doubted it.
Idly, painfully, he wondered if that Osmo guy held onto Daxter's stuff, hoping he'd come back to them.
Loud barking heralded the arrival of both Daxter and the crocadog. It bounded down the ramp in pursuit of a fly, with the ottsel hanging onto its back for dear life. Daxter just managed to steer it by the collar away from the edge of the mesa and toward Jak.
"Grab him before he flings me to my death!" Daxter screeched.
Jak whistled once and opened his arms. "C'mere, boy!"
The puppy yapped and leaped for the boy, skidding into his arms with scrabbling legs when it failed to stop. With a yelp, Daxter catapulted off his back and onto Jak's shoulder where he crouched with bristling fur. Immediately, Chopper planted his front paws on Jak’s chest and yipped before licking his face. Jak laughed and leaned back.
"Blech! Chopper! No baths!"
He scooped the puppy up and held him like a baby.
"Crazy dog."
Damas’s eyes moistened again, seeing his older son smile down at the crocadog. There was still a young boy in there, under all the pain and anger. There was still an inner child peering out, and Damas was resolved to gain that child's trust.
The pup sniffed the air and wriggled until Jak pushed him into a sitting position. Cocking his head, he sniffed at the man holding Short Master and began to paw at him. Who was this Big Spiky Man? He smelled like Short Master and Tall Master! Did he, perhaps, have Treats? Treats for a Very Good Boy?
He did!
Damas cracked a smile as Chopper began whining and pawing at the small satchel at his waist. He must have smelled the dried meat and fruit Damas usually carried whenever he left the city.
Well, the pup was no bird, certainly, but he was cute.
"Alright, alright," Damas sighed and dug in the satchel to find a bit of dried caprid. "Only if you've been good, little one."
"He's always good!" Jak said indignantly. "That's the whole point of dogs!"
Daxter narrowed his eyes at Jak. "That mutt has never been to obedience school a day in his life."
"So? Neither have I," Jak scoffed. "He doesn't need it! Right, Chop?"
Chopper proceeded to all but unhinge his jaw in an effort to eat the entire ration bag.
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#fic prompts#writing prompts#jak and daxter#dadmas#king damas#jak and daxter au#free day thursday#dad sig#jak and mar are separate people au#jak and daxter mar#damas and sig are platonic life partners in this one#blackmail au#let Jak be the annoying big brother sometimes he's earned it#jnd kleiver#kleiver insists that the reason he's bald is because someone made him babysit in the past and no one knows if he's lying
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Himemiya Touri/Suou Tsukasa
Characters: Himemiya Touri, Suou Tsukasa, fine r there for a tiny bit
Additional Tags: Literal Sleeping Together, Cuddling & Snuggling, Pre-Relationship, Napping, you get the gist
Summary:
Tsukasa would recognize that cowlick anywhere.
(or: Tsukasa finds a familiar someone napping on the common room)
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i need to rewatch veronica mars again. i miss her. i wish there were more shows like that. the show’s depiction of women was far from perfect but the writing for veronica mars and lilly kane was genuinely great and they remain some of the best written female characters ive seen. honestly the depiction of lilly kane is genuinely one of the most impressive things about this show the way they portrayed her as a fairly realistic self-centred teenager who did dumb things but still had empathy for her and the narrative never once judged her or blamed her for her murder.
#veronica mars#veronica too was such a great character#like she was tough and smart and was allowed to be angry and grieve for lilly and the way her life used to be#and was just nosy teenage girl poking her nose where she wasnt supposed to and pissing off authority figures#plus after seeing the way woman who have stood up against abuse this past year have been treated#lilly's character and the way she was treated with such sympathy and care feels like such a relief#like the writing for the show wasnt perfect and the mysteries weren't always do or die#and sometimes could have been written better#and season 3 was just 😬 at times#she definitely reminds me of nancy drew despite the totally different genres and tone of the story#but like nancy drew the mysterys were pretty fun and they both had dads who were private investigators#and there was variation in each mystery#i fully blame nancy drew for my love of mysteries and girl detectives and general nosiness
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Dc really terrible on fantasy racism. The white martian is the colonizer who murder and commit genocide but they retcon it by making ohhh the green martian treated white martian as second class citizen. If they don't know how to explore the topic either they choose to not go with that topic in the first place or hired somebody who's come from racialized marginalized group
Anyway sorry for the unnecesarry rant is miss martian gonna be present on your comic or other character
Yeah! While I understand writers wanting to try different dynamics between white and green martians by switching up who's oppressing who, I'm ultimately really unconvinced with either version of martian fantasy racism because it's always superficial. Prejudice between martians is skin deep ("you have x skin color therefore are inferior to me!") and never truly systemic.
Totally fine! I like talking about martian lore, haha.
I can't confirm or deny if miss martian will appear in Sons of Mars (and I acknowledge that saying this is in itself a pretty definitive answer lmao).
#askjesncin#sons of mars#MM 2019 making J'onn a racist alien cop only to impersonate a Black man on earth is...a choice#I need writers of color to write martian manhunter stories#because wtf with martian lore sometimes honestly
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WIP share day
Hey! I got tagged by @wishing4nuclearwinter ! Thanks! I have no idea anymore if I got tagged by others, and if you have, then thank you! I won't tag anyone for right now since it's Friday by me.
My Far Cry fic is.. I'm trying. To help me get motivated, I ended up writing a scene that I thought was pretty cute, I just don't know if I'll include it or not (I likely will)
The shade provided some nice "shelter", even if it wasn't warm enough to warrant needing in the first place. And even though the tree's bark kept threatening to dig into Marley's back, she was close to letting herself doze off in the grass.
At least, she was until she heard music come up the road. Marley tensed, ready to hide once she would hear Peggies singing, but when it got closer, the tempo was... Slow? She cracked an eye open when tires crunched on a few lonely rocks abandoned on the asphalt.
"I've been waiting, for a girl like you,
To come into my life."
Marley had seconds to brace for it, but didn't object when Sharky pulled her into a tight hug. She felt warm, and safe. She wondered how he made her feel safe while the county seemed to get worse.
"I thought you didn't like eighties music," she mumbled.
"Yeah, well, I think I can try some new things. If my most favorite person in the world likes eighties, it's gotta be at least not horrible."
"And?"
"I like making you smile with the power ballads."
:)
#wip sometime#a minnow amongst sharks#far cry 5#far cry#sharky boshaw#charlemagne victor boshaw iv#mars hendricks#my writing#thank you for the tag!
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Another movie au silly XD probably takes place after the incident, imma be real I feel like they've done some kind of drugs or girls night just hits different one of the two! Anywhos @oogaboogaspookyman ur boi is getting to enjoy girls night good for him, this one's more dialogue heavy
Girls Night and Serious Questions
May's tail swayed and swished softly as she rested comfortably on some cushions on the floor of her actors' room leaning back against a beanbag for back support. The pink strawberry scented face mask was cool on her skin as were the cucumber slices on her eyes as she exhaled peacefully with some quiet background music for ambience. She raised a hand carefully, taking a cucumber slice from a bowl and putting it in her mouth, crunching it with satisfaction.
"I don't think you're meant to eat the slices off your face May."
The monochromatic two commented, he was also wearing a face mask. It was blue and blueberry scented with cucumber slices over his eyes, he was also lounging comfortably, tail swaying in contentment.
"I know that's why I sliced extras," her voice was sing song like as she carefully rattled the bowl for him to hear, "you know you wanna crunchy crunch on a cucumbee~" He snorted a soft laugh but reach out clumsily finding the bowl and taking a slice happily popping it in his mouth with a grin as she lightly gasped to herself, "He got the cucumberrr."
"Yes he dooo~"
The other two singsonged back and sighed.
"Gosh this is nice, and you say you and Matt try to do this once a week?"
"Yup, sometimes we make little fruit salads with slices and chunks of all kinds of fruits. God it's so good, unfortunately I didn't have any fruit in so we got cucumber masks and unhealthy snacks. Peak girls night material." the other two snorted in soft laughter.
"Girls night Girls night."
He playfully chanted before settling back into a comfortable quiet.
"So, I heard your manager had a baby?"
He queried too curious not too.
"Yup, indeed she did."
"I heard she had it naturally?"
"Al dente indeed yea, no cloning, didn't know that could happen."
He hummed softly in agreement.
"What does that mean for you then?"
"Uh, my manager is more busy than usual and I'm probably gonna have to babysit I guess."
He made a soft ah sound as he chewed the inside of his mouth.
"Does it bother you?"
"What you mean?"
"Well, you and your manager have a complicated uh relation to one another."
"Yea she's cloned from me."
"And she had a baby, does that mean you could too?"
May went quiet and thoughtful before clumsily stretching a leg to try to kick or at least nudge the other two.
"Why? Wanting to get me pregnant or something ya dork, you're an absolute pervert." Her voice was entirely playful and jokey.
"Hey!"
He reached to nudge her back.
"That is slander my good woman I hope you have a good lawyer that is not why I was asking!"
His tone was mostly mock offended easy in nature as they continued to lightly kick and nudge the other with May giggling softly.
"I just meant like, is that something you could see happening for you down the line?"
"Girl time really unlocking the deep personal questions, what is girls night if not for crimes and personal stuff I guess." May laughed softly before humming in thought, "I dunno, I don't, think about my future a lot, but I can't really see myself with a kid personally I'm not responsible enough for that."
"You take care of Matt don't you."
He joked playfully as she mock gasped in joke offense at him being right.
"Yes but that's differentt, he's my optional pest whereas a baby is full time pest." the two snorted out loud giggling and kicking his feet a bit at May referring to her hypothetical child as a pest.
"You're so mean to your babyyy."
He joked as she laughed.
"Fuck them kids."
He snorted a laugh as she started to giggle.
"Fuck them kids."
He repeated, laughing to himself at the absurdity.
"What about you huh, babies on your bucket list? I can see you settling down eventually with a lovely woman," she nudged him playfully with her foot, "you two could make a cute little baby."
"You two?? Me and who??"
He asked, completely baffled.
"Your wife!" she boldly started giggling as he made more confused noises.
"What wife?? Where is this wife?? Show me this woman?"
He playfully demanded as she laughed and giggled harder.
"I dunno! She's somewhere! You'll find her and you'll luuuuuuv herrrr. And I can make jokes about stealing your pretty wife."
"You can't have her, she's mine."
"I could seduce her from you."
"Is that why you picture me with a wife so you can steal her from me?"
"Yes."
He playfully kicked at her laughing at her weirdness.
"You are so bizarre!"
She laughed as well saying, "I knowww, Its just me getting you back for stealing my drinks, you're a horrid little coffee thief I'm a horrid little wife stealer." He snorted loudly, absolutely howling and hollering as he kicked his leg into the floor.
"THAT IS IN NO WAY EQUAL EXCHANGE YOU CRETIN?!?!"
"YES IT IS BITCH!" She yelled laughter in her voice as he cackled.
"You are positively insane."
"Thank youuu," She snickered.
"Not a compliment!"
"I'm taking it as one you fuck!" She laughed as he let out a laugh like exhale as he ate a cucumber slice before asking.
"So, if I got a husband you'd steal my husband because I drank your drinks."
"Hmmmmmm….I dunnoooo….cause like…" She moved her hand limping her wrist, "but also like it depends. How hots your husband." He made a confused sound.
"What the hell are you on about? I heard you move but I can't remember."
"Oh yea." She laughed at her mistake, "so like, girls."
He made a hum of agreement bringing his hands to his stomach.
"Yea, girls."
"I like girls."
"..oh.."
She didn't catch his disappointed tone, "but also sometimes like, boys."
"Oh? So like, both?"
His tone slightly intrigued.
"Sometimes? I don't know like attraction and orientation hard, I flip flop a bit because I'm not sure, I go yea I like both, then I go ages without like feeling attracted to guys so hm maybe just girls but then ohoho a cute guy so like 80% of the time I'm like woman and 20% I'm like but that dude though, ya know?"
"Hm, I understand what you're saying, yes. Have you, seen any attractive guys in a while?"
She made a noise humming for a while her tone going strange saying, "I mean yea but it's whatever." She made a pft sound waving off her hand, her tail thumping the floor softly, "You thirsty? I'm thirsty, imma make milkshakes, you want milkshake?"
He chuckled to himself as he lifted a cucumber from his eye to watch her hurry past him, smiling a bit to himself. He could push and tease about it as he could tell she was embarrassed, but, then he might not get a milkshake.
"Yea I'll have the one you're having."
"You can have your fucking own!" He snorted softly.
#My writing#Mewtwosona May#@oogaboogaspookyman ???#@oogaboogaspookyman oc#Girl night girls night girls night#Omg ??? You can't just ask a girl if she thinks she's gonna have kids XD#May just lmao why gonna get me pregnant? Bitch? Pervert?#I am not confirming if she meant him or not#May out here planning to steal his hypothetical wife#Lmao does May mewtwo is gay? Study say yes in recent article the people of majority-I can't remember the rest of the does Bruno Mars is gay#Sorry ??? May is a little gay bean#But also like me sometimes she see a guy and go 👀#Doesn't really know her own sexuality#Meanwhile matt is just in the background like gay gay homosexual. Ngl he probably had a crush on ?? At one point#Also this is not me shooting down the joke ship because I actually really like it!! XD#This isn't me pulling the um well actually card this is me going hi I didn't know how to bring up her sexuality before so here's jokey fic#She's gay but only sometimes XD sometimes she's straight XD she is a confused little bisexual#Ngl canon dealing with ??? May looks at movie May and goes BITCH WHAT THE FUCK?!#Like HIM?? FR?? HM?? AND UR /FRIENDS/?!?!?! THIS SOME BULLLSHIT#Also again I think they might be on drugs or its honestly just the girls night vibes making them feral and giggly#Fungal Spooks Studio
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Insecurity is a hell of a drug
#i am just being self conscious about my writing don't mind me lmao#i thought this passed but oh well#i knew this would come up at some point running this blog but it's very not fun#would not recommend#also i am so much better at not taking stuff personally but my god sometimes i am not#and it is one of those times i guess#i think that's lowkey why i haven't touched my wips in days#this has been eating away at my brain#i know this is a hobby and not that serious but ego connected to what i create go brr#i just need to let these feelings pass#i think just touching my wips would help that and there are ways I've thought about improving my writing so let's see how that goes lol#or maybe how i approach my writing would be a better way to put it#i also need to realise that everything isn't going to be for everyone which includes what i put out there and critiques of certain things in#fic are not personal attacks against me specifically lol#it's the leo moon and virgo mars /lh#anyways enough spiralling#rj talks
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1, 55, or 57 with Mick and a ship of your choosing for the put that guy in a situation thing <3
ty for requesting bestie i tried going for the whole triad (though more 1. and 57.) AND with the nice usual serving of polycrue bc i'm an indecisive bitch here u go hope it's cool bc none of it was written at socially acceptable waking hours
This is a Song for the Broken Hearted
1k words
Rated T for The usual motley crue bullshit
Polycrue
Prompts: 1. Touch-Starved/Cuddle Curse, 55. Mutual Pining/Oblivious, 57. Accidental Hand-Holding
ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3, MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM FOLKS
The very first time Mötley Crüe played what they could proudly call a show, not merely a gig, Vince had strutted towards the audience down in the pit, grabbing Nikki’s hand on the way, and o grace, Mick’s too. Tommy had bounced away from his drumkit and come to join them in the front, standing to Mick’s side hand in hand.
His heart had thumped in his chest, desperately. Vince’s crowd-charming nonsense spilled out and Mick heard none of it, none of the rumble of the public just below, droning noises washing up on the cliffside of his brains.
Everything felt gross.
Their palms were thoroughly damp, melding together like mud after the rain.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, smeared down his back and matted his hair.
His clothes hung heavy, rough and irritating and too real against his skin.
But nothing mattered at that moment. The electricity that ran through his veins when from either side his boys squeezed his hands as they bowed down to the public, however painful it might be for him, that was all the comfort he ever needed. And if it were to never happen again, if Mötley Crüe was destined to go out in a blaze of glory only months before they’d started doing real concerts, then Mick could still ride on that high for the rest of his life.
It was exhilarating. Euphoric. Completely foreign. He could thread his fingers through theirs, and know they’d drag him with them, to wherever was the next stop in their headless chicken adventure through this new emerging scene.
Mick thought he knew his way around being in a band. It wasn’t his first stage, it wasn’t his first rodeo. But none of his bandmates before had been quite like this. Quite as stupid, if there was a nice way to put it. But neither were they quite as warm and oh so desperately alive as Nikki, Vince, and Tommy never stopped being for a single second. This band was going places.
It was a great tearing, when the hands went away, dropped his own to their cold solitude and left him until the next encore.
From then on, it became his lifeline. Fragmented and explosive as their ensemble could be, slave to Nikki’s moods, and Vince’s whims, and Tommy’s recklessness, and despite his teeth often grinding in anger, despair, and so much more, it was the cement of it all. None of this could have existed if it were not for the monstrous, evergoing current that flowed through the four of them, merciless. He sought it, this familiar chaos that had come to feel like coming home. He couldn’t have done anything else, could he?
He could always count on the warmth, the comfortable warmth of the hands that took his. The only constant. A definitive sign that none of them would let go.
That’s the vision that visited his dreams, often when he passed out slowly in the little hours of the morning, alone again.
He remembered the fluid touch of Tommy’s thumb, rubbing circles on the back of his hand. Like he somehow knew, or had guessed, or maybe had Mick told him in a moment of weakness he didn’t remember, how precious this minuscule fragment of time was to him. And with such delicacy too; disgusting, terrifying delicacy, like Mick’s hands were going to break, like he didn’t want to hurt his guitarist. His calluses, inevitable from the constant friction of the drumsticks, anchored the feeling deep in Mick’s mind.
He searched for Vince’s hand in the dark sometimes, hoping for the squeeze he earned after hours of playing, sweating, and tearing the music from the strings. The intimate millisecond where someone, anyone, told him and him alone that he’d done good. He’d always squeeze back. Vince seemed to notice, and smiled bright and solar at Mick before turning to the crowd and announcing the greatest motherfucker on guitar, the one and only Mick Mars. But the hand meant so much more.
Nikki never did touch as much, moreso he reluctantly let Vince drag his hand as well during salute, but every once in a while he brushed Mick’s hand walking past, before the show, at the afterparty, when he left rehearsal. He never looked, never looked away either. For the longest time, it seemed like happy little accidents, until one day he blinked at Mick, and all the pieces of the puzzle fell together, practically screaming at him that he was seen. It was Nikki’s way to prove him he was right there with them. Mick felt nauseous, yet he kept leaning towards his bandmates.
And for a while, it seemed like all he was ever going to get.
Because that was the sad truth. Mick wanted. Wanted so much, so desperately it almost made him sick, so deeply he’d feel his heart break over and over again every day the bustling afterparty died down behind his back as he staggered back home.
He never wanted to face it, never wanted to look down at their interlocked hands, in fear that it would start within him something he could not quench. His wife’s hand had felt like a bridge above the inevitable gap. These hands felt like the rightful place for his. Like everything was finally on the right track, and he never ever wanted them to leave. He crossed his arms at night, held onto himself like a lifeline to fight off the emptiness of a lone bed in a lone apartment.
That is, until the day he must’ve dozed off drunk on someone’s couch, and when he woke up in the dark, helped by a sliver of sunlight coming in through the patchy broken blinds, he saw before he felt the hands in his hands, on his chest, around his waist.
He didn’t ask any questions. Didn’t speak a word. There could have been many to raise, of the sort of why the hell exactly were his bandmates using him as a pillow. Why didn’t they just go home, to their ratty nasty flat, though that one might’ve been self-evident. What would they do when they woke up. But he didn’t say any of that. Instead he let himself melt into the pleasant warmth of the softest binds he’d ever known.
The mindless humming around him was proof enough that everything was going to turn out alright.
#idk im tired i banged out 900 words of this tonight for seemingly no reason???#i love writing i hate writing i have a complicated relationship with writing#ty so much for requesting robin mwah#i write things sometimes#motley crue#mick mars#rpf#motleyposting on main
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I cannot show you my softness, so instead I will show you my rough edges. I will show you the calluses on my hands, short nails and hangnails, the muscles under my skin, the scars on my knuckles. I will show you my all day projects where I couldn't let myself stop, the steps on my pedometer, the exhaustion under my eyes. I will show you my anger and my defiance in the face of a challenge, I will show you my relentlessness, I will show you my hunger, I will show you my power. I am not a violent creature but I came into this world to do battle and my theater of war is my own flesh. She cannot fight, she cannot dominate and do harm, but oh, she can endure. Strength is in stillness, in bearing the weight of it, and victory measured in inches crawled, one by one. So she is beaten and weathered, so her roughness attests what can be borne. And this she offers, the suffering she has made. "For you, my love, I will hurt."
#earth signs#earth sign problems#amy writes#ode to a tank#also possibly mars in cancer problems tbqh#this post brought to you by the realization that i peacock by busting ass and showing off how tough i am#also thc#this is also why i get passive aggressive i think like when you only know how to show care through withstanding pain#you get quietly resentful and snappish with people you love because even though you love them#and you are making the choice to hurt FOR them#a part if you also blames them for your pain#and slowly you begin to understand that sometimes improving your relationships means choosing your own needs#which is highly counterintuitive
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writing comics is quite the exercise in that you have to condense what you want to say because no way im drawing all of that, but still stay in character. other times i end up using the word "really" in three sentences in a row
#IT HAUNTS ME.#i should edit it maybe#my english vocabulary feels really lacking orz you guys need proper augmentatives#but yeah it's like this grey area between fanfic and fanart?#i do stress over characterization but it's less than a full fic#though ive also seen japanese twt fan comics that have So Much text honestly i should do that sometimes#comics give u the ability to go straight to The Scene you thought about without having to build the entire fic around it#so its at least convenient in that aspect#i do want to write fic again thoughhh maybe ill make that a 2024 goal#mar's midnight rambles
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honestly. the eeveelutions vn is directly inspired by the many 'eevee love story' videos six year old me watched on youtube that were made in what mightve been a slideshow program set to music and by pmd. and also hatoful boyfriend. and also bc i want to make something that will hopefully have aspects of both the analytical and storytelling aspects of pokemon fan creations and entertainment.
i want it to be both a silly story, and one that also incorporates themes of figuring out who youre going to be in life- and figuring out who you are in relation to other people. sometimes life throws a curveball and your plans drastically change. sometimes you dont know if the path youre going down is right for you- sometimes you even regret it. thats life! nobody knows whats going to happen until it does.
i also definitely want to incorporate a balance here of self and others; when figuring out who you are, you have to figure out who others around you are, too.
so yeah! some thoughts from during the creative process and a few goals for the game, and why i chose primarily eevee characters. ^^
will likely not be streaming script-working later, but might be streaming something else, and ppl are always free to pop in and ask questions!
#ramblings#mar does writing#in particular too- i think the mechanic of evolution in pmd settings is REALLY interesting to explore#as its consistently portrayed as a personal choice and a large portion is cosmetic#which really makes it a good equivalent to deciding on a major life path#another interesting aspect to evolution in pmd settings too is that sometimes pokemon just Cant-#whether it be by situation or for personal reasons or other concerns#which is also a really interesting thing to explore!#pokemon
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sapnap livewatching nrg matches and you talking about vct in general is making me interested in it fr, I've just watched yesterday's nrg and 100t match
THIS IS AWESOME I HOPE U ENJOY
#right now vct is doing its first ever season where they have 30 partnered teams around the world#so americas/emea(europe middle east africa)/pacific are the regions each with 10 teams#and then there’s a ‘challengers’ season happening simultaneously with teams that didn’t get partnered who are facing off for a partner slot#next year!! I’m from the US so I primarily follow Americas and NA challengers#but there’s a lot of really fun leagues around wherever u might be ^_^#also if u want team recs:#FNATIC (emea)/LOUD (americas)/Sentinels(Americas)/DRX (Pacific)#and then ofc NRG for sapnap because they just jumped back up into playoff contention w their win yesterday!!#also if u want dtblr-vct blogs I would rec nupe churchprime and arie dnfingtons they’re both epic#I think mar patchesjam also talks about pro valo sometimes so another rec for ya <3#sorry for like writing an essay in the tags I just love talking about this LOL#lyss answers#anon tag#lyss.valorant
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I love John Keats with my whole heart. If I could pick one historical figure to have a conversation with, it would be him. Nothing stirs my soul the way his poetry does.
#knowing that this dear man died so young and lived a life marred by tragedy#and still managed to write so beautifully and lovingly#it's so hard not to cry sometimes when reading this book#and don't even get me started on 'to hope'#this man would have loved c.s. lewis#john keats
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