#004.introspection

[dvllknives]

(  misc  ask  meme  )  :  🍳   how  well  can  they  cook? 

        eden  is  a  mess  in  the  kitchen.  she’s  a  mess  in  general,  but  add  fire  and  oil  to  that  and  it’s  just  a  disaster  zone.  at  the  very  least,  she  can  warm  things  up  without  incident.  at  most,  she  can  get  a  bit  creative  with  an  air  fryer.  though  the  results  may  vary  depending  on  difficulty.

[schleckermaul]

BREAK IS READY TO GIVE YURI THE DESIRED GREETING and flee the scene immediately afterwards, but the man mentions his companion for this ball, and that's enough to get break to pause. something he won't be happy about in hindsight, even with his reaction being as subdued as it is now. revealing anything more to yuri, anything other than what he already has, feels wrong, sits strangely in the dip of his collarbone, hot and angry.

   either way, he stops in his steps, blinks blankly, before furrowing his brow the softest bit, more in confusion than anything else. ' my ... you mean zhilan? ' ismael had used the term 'date' before, though it takes a moment for break to recollect that memory. not that it makes him any more pleased.

   ' ... so you were the one making him paranoid about alcohol in these pastries? he was fussing over me earlier ... ' sliding his cane forward, break waits until it gently taps against yuri's shin, calculating the distance between them. spacial awareness is always a bit harder in the middle of a lot of strangers, so he'll have to be careful if he doesn't want to be obvious.

   adjusting, his expression slips into a smile instead, bright and entirely fake, though he makes no effort to hide that. ' i hadn't realized it's been weeks— the stars don't let us catch a break, eh? '

bumping into people is par for the course at these types of gigs. bumping into break, however? yuri was starting to think the older man had a sixth sense for avoiding him, specifically. of course their last disaster of an interaction is at the forefront of his mind too, but this is just cringeworthy.

in other words, yuri's not letting him get away! all it takes is skillful sidestepping and a "whoa there, where's the fire, sleeves?" to lock him into a quick chat. from his laidback tone alone (only slightly aided by the free drinks), one might assume nothing happened between them at all, "it's been weeks, least you could do is say hi."

then a sigh, clearly exaggerated (the last thing he wants is for things to get serious at a party), "after i gave your date all those dessert tips, too... ouch."

[theunkn0wn-0]

The Gift of Immortality DRAGON BALL STORY: Insert Reader

GENDER-NEUTRAL READER ✕ DRAGON BALL CHARACTERS

╰➤ ⌈ 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… ⌋ ╰┈┈➤ This is a FIRST PERSON POV story for the reader, Y/N, M/C. ╰┈┈➤ Instead of (Y/N), I use [First Name] for your name. ╰┈┈➤ Enjoy the story, have fun.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: 003 | 𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑬'𝑺 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑩𝑳𝑬 FIRST CHAPTER: 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 — 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯 | 1

TRIGGER | CONTENT WARNINGS: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION WRITING OF VIOLENCE!!! Mentions of light SWEARING, and BLOOD!

004 | Epiphany

❝The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.❞

•◉◓☆◓◉•

I launched myself forward, fists poised to strike, closing the distance between us; my movements were fluid and deliberate. A barrage of punches and jabs rained down upon him, each blow fueled by a mixture of desperation and resolve. Goku remained on the defensive, his movements a blur of speed and agility as he deftly evaded my attacks.

Undeterred, I pressed on, relentless in my pursuit of victory. Jab, hook, rear hook—I threw everything I had at him, testing the limits of his defenses. And then, I seized the opportunity to change tactics. With a swift pivot, I transformed my rear hook into an uppercut, channeling a portion of my strength into the blow. Goku barely managed to dodge, his surprise evident in the flicker of his expression.

He was quick to recover, his resilience a testament to his skill and strength. Goku surged forward with an offensive attitude, delivering a two-handed strike aimed at my chest, striving to turn the tide of the battle in his favor. Yet, in a display of agility and flexibility borne of millennia of training. I gracefully evaded his strike; I dropped to the ground.

With a quick maneuver, I arched my back, planting my hands firmly on the arena floor as I brought my legs to my chest. I unleashed a brisk counterattack; my legs were blurred as they shot upward, sending Goku reeling backward. The crowd burst into cheers, their excitement echoing through the arena as I delivered the first blow of the match. With a deft kick-up, I regained my footing, and my muscles coiled like a spring as I took a defensive stance.

Despite the thrill of battle, a fleeting moment of introspection invaded my mind, a reminder to temper my strength. My survival instincts are screaming for me to go all out and end this swiftly, but that would destroy the purpose of determining my opponent's power, along with trying to hide my true potential from my enemy who is watching me.

I have to restrain myself as much as I despise it; going to my full power now would be unfair. He needs to make a move—

A sharp blow landed squarely in my gut, knocking the wind from my lungs and jolting me out of my reverie. Goku closed the distance between us and reminded me of the consequences of hesitation in battle. I stumbled backward, my hand instinctively clutching at the source of pain.

Never mind. Fuck...

My body would recover, my senses on high alert as Goku unleashed a relentless barrage of strikes. Each punch and kick came with lightning precision, leaving little room for evasion or defense. Despite the onslaught, I managed to avoid his attacks, albeit with effort. Yet, I couldn't help but let a few blows land, a deliberate decision to show vulnerability that would cause Junior to underestimate me.

With each hit, I gritted my teeth, suppressing the urge to retaliate with full force. Despite my efforts to conceal my true strength, Goku sensed something was wrong. His brow furrowed in confusion as he realized I was holding back, and he struggled to keep pace with my elusive maneuvers. As Goku pressed on, his attacks growing more ferocious with each passing moment, I dodged his punches, and my hand caught one of his fists with effortless ease, guiding it harmlessly past me.

At the same time, my left leg subtly positioned itself behind Goku's, ready to execute the next move. With a fluid and swift motion, I pivoted his body, using the leverage of my grounded stance to exert force through my right arm, throwing a blow of strength to guide his momentum, using his force against him to throw him off balance.

Goku stumbled, his body crashing to the ground with a resounding thud. Wasting no time, I launched into a follow-up attack, my clenched fist aimed squarely at his defenseless face. Despite his best efforts to block, the force of my blow landed with brutal accuracy, sending him slamming to the ground once more, the force of the blow driving the wind from his lungs.

Even with the restraint I exercised, the pain was palpable, etched across his features as he struggled to regain his footing; I took a step back, allowing Goku a moment to recover. The crowd erupted into cheers as they watched the intense exchange unfold.

"Come on, show me what you got," I urged, my voice carrying a hint of nonchalance, a silent invitation to continue the battle. With a grunt of effort, Goku rose to his feet, his gaze locked on mine with a steely determination. I knew he was holding back, just as I was, each of us biding our time, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

His movements were measured as he studied me with a keen eye; I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, his mind dissecting my every move with precision. I seized the moment, launching myself forward with a fierce resolve, my fist prepared to strike.

But before my fist could connect, an unseen force collided with my face, sending shockwaves of pain reverberating through my skull. Confusion mingled with pain as I realized Goku had struck me from a distance, his arm outstretched in a display of unseen power as he stood at the same spot.

What the hell was that? How had he managed to strike me from this distance? That move…

The shock of his counterattack reverberated through my senses; before I could unravel the mystery, Goku charged at me with renewed vigor. Instinct kicked in, my body moving on autopilot as we clashed in a flurry of blows. Our arms locked in a fierce struggle, the air thick with the sound of grunts and the clash of fists.

In a split second, my feet lashed out, connecting with his chin, his chin snapping upward as he stumbled backward. Then, a memory struck me, a fragment of my training with King Piccolo resurfacing from the depths of my subconscious.

Drawing upon that reservoir of knowledge, I unleashed a wave of energy, propelling it towards Goku with all the force I could muster. His chest buckled under the onslaught, a testament to the raw power of my attack. But amidst the chaos of battle, a nagging question lingered.

How did he know that shockwave technique? That technique was from King Piccolo… Is there a connection between him and King Piccolo? Is that why Junior mentioned him getting in his way?

As we continued to trade blows, the answers eluded me, shrouded in the haze of uncertainty. Hours felt like mere moments as we danced on the precipice of combat with our fists and kicks, neither of us willing to yield an inch.

With a final clash, we both leaped back, a temporary ceasefire in our relentless battle. Goku's smile, tinged with respect and amazement, his eyes sparkled with a glint of admiration. His words, though unexpected, carried a weight of sincerity that caught me off guard.

"Have you been holding back this much? I'm impressed," he remarked, his tone genuine. "Can we put this on timeout for a sec?"

His sudden request for a timeout raised an eyebrow of confusion, but I remained vigilant, unsure of what he had in store. And then, with a seemingly innocuous remark, he proceeded to strip off his top garments and the shirt underneath his Gi top.

The sight of Goku struggling to remove his shirt as his garments fell to the ground with a heavy thud, revealing his sculpted muscles and toned physique, a wave of confusion washed over me. But it was the weight of his discarded attire that caught my attention. Each piece, from his shirt to his wristbands, bore a substantial heft, hinting it wasn't normal clothes.

Confusion gnawed at me as I observed a group of fighters approach him, their familiarity with Goku evident in their companionship, offering assistance in setting aside his cumbersome attire. Their conversation drifted to the peculiar weight of his clothing; the garment weighed an extraordinary amount of 250 pounds.

I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer strength and endurance required to carry such a load into battle. A newfound respect bloomed within me for the man standing before me. To carry such a load in combat spoke volumes of Goku's dedication and determination. However, I pushed aside any semblance of sentiment, bracing myself for the battle and the revelation of even more surprises lurking beneath his seemingly carefree exterior.

As Goku's comrades retreated, leaving him to don his Gi top once more, I seized the opportunity to press the attack. With lightning-fast reflexes, I launched myself forward, intent on landing a decisive blow. But in a sudden twist of strategy, I dropped to the floor, sweeping his legs out from under him with calculated precision.

Goku's surprise was palpable as he crashed to the ground, his balance shattered. But before he could recover, I was already on my feet, unleashing a barrage of attacks aimed at his chest. Despite his agility, he managed to evade my strikes, rolling away with practiced ease.

In the heat of battle, I found myself consumed by the thrill of combat, momentarily forgetting my purpose. But as the fight raged on, a realization dawned upon me: I was here to gauge Goku's strength, to test his limits. His speed was unparalleled, his movements fluid and unpredictable.

Landing a hit seemed like an impossible feat as he effortlessly dodged and weaved through my attacks. With each evasive maneuver, I was expending more of my ki energy, straining to keep pace with his relentless assault.

But just as I began to falter, Goku seized the opportunity to strike. Catching my punch, his movements mirrored the tactic I had used against him. With precision and finesse, he manipulated my body, leveraging his grounded stance to redirect my momentum against me.

I crashed to the ground with a jolt, the impact reverberating through my bones. But even as pain flared through my limbs, instinct propelled me into action, executing an Imanari Roll, a technique ingrained in muscle memory from centuries of training. My body rolled as I latched onto Goku's leg, my legs entwined around his as I brought him crashing down to the ground beside me.

A collective roar erupted from the crowd, their cheers reverberating through the arena like thunder. But even as I regained the offensive, Goku seized hold of my leg, and with his strength, he hurled me skyward, the ground receding beneath me in a dizzying blur, my body soaring high above the battlefield.

As I hung suspended in the air, a sense of awe washed over me at the sight of Goku harnessing his ki energy, a bright orb forming between his cupped hands and bringing it to his side; the brilliance of his ki radiated with an intensity that left me breathless.

He can use ki manipulation?

Time seemed to slow as I grappled with the realization that I was facing not just a skilled fighter, but a person who could utilize ki energy. The implications sent a shiver down my spine, a surge of anxiety mixing with the awe that gripped my mind. If Goku had such capabilities, it meant that others could as well in this continent.

The government with its resources and relentless pursuit to capture me could easily enlist others with similar abilities to track me down. They would be stronger, verve, and faster to keep up with me, and with the Somnus drug, they could inject me if I let down my guard or slip up. Just the thought of facing adversaries with similar powers by those who sought to exploit my immortality caused that thrill of this battle to vanish, replaced by sheer dread.

I hovered in the air; the wind whipped around me, carrying the scent of ozone and tension. Before I could react, Goku appeared behind me with a mighty yell, accompanied by a blinding beam of light hurtling toward me.

"...me–HA!"

His voice sent a jolt of fear coursing through my veins as I braced myself for the onslaught. Instinct took over as I reached out, my hand connecting with the searing energy of the attack. Memories of King Piccolo's training flooded my mind, guiding my movements with a sense of urgency born from fear, a survival mechanism honed through years of misfortune.

With a steady hand, I redirected the beam, guiding it with precision back toward Goku. A look of bewilderment crossed Goku's face, his eyes wide with disbelief as his own attack barreled towards him. In a loud blast, he was sent hurtling back toward the ground, the force of his impact sending shockwaves rippling through the arena.

As the dust settled, I glanced down at my hand, which was trembling, the faint remnants of burn marks fading away as if they had never been; I struggled to steady my racing heart. With a shaky breath, I lowered myself to the ground, but before I could hit the earth, I instinctively levitated, hovering just above the ground before landing with a soft thud.

My eyes darted to Goku's prone form, his body battered and bruised, evidence of the blast of his attack and fall; fear gnawed at my insides, the possibility of having taken a life when I had reminded myself not to kill during this tournament.

"ONE!" The announcer's voice pierced through the haze of my thoughts, signaling the countdown to victory; however, my attention was fixated on Goku, his body broken yet miraculously still breathing.

"TWO!" Beads of sweat gathered on my brow, mingling with the remnants of dust and smoke that lingered in the air, my hands still trembling with the weight of what could have been.

At least he was alive and breathing.

"THREE!" The countdown continued, the sound of the crowd's cheers blending into a cacophony of noise that reverberated through the arena and in my ears.

"FOUR!" The realization that someone like Goku, skilled in ki manipulation, posed a threat that transcended mere physical prowess. With each passing moment, the fear threatened to overwhelm me, a suffocating weight upon my chest.

"FIVE!" I wouldn't be safe anymore if the government discovered these types of people, who could be on the same level as me, capturing me more easily than before I had learned ki energy.

"SIX!" Goku lay motionless on the ground, his body twitching with the effort to rouse himself from the brink of unconsciousness. For a fleeting moment, my thoughts drifted to the mission at hand. To assess his strength and skill, to determine if he could defeat Junior.

"SEVEN!" But as the count continued, my focus narrowed, my attention zeroing in on the fallen fighter before me. He needed to get up. I couldn't afford to face Junior, not yet.

“EIGHT!”

Get up…

“NINE!”

Get up!

“TEN!”

And with that final count, the round drew to a close, declaring me the victor of Match 2. A surge of conflicting emotions washed over me, a mixture of defeat and dissatisfaction. While any regular person would revel in the glory of victory, I couldn't shake the sense of defeat that lingered in the air, a bitter taste of resignation.

A battle won, yet another step closer to the inevitable conflict with Junior. Goku wasn't the one I had been seeking who could end the reign of terror that would take over us all. But there were others; other fighters who might possess the power to tip the scales in my favor.

With a disdainful scoff, I turned away, the sound of rushing footsteps and Goku's comrades converging around him in a flurry of concern. He was no longer my concern. If he still drew breath, it mattered little whether bones were broken or wounds inflicted.

As I walked away, my gaze drifted upwards, drawn to the towering figure of Junior, perched upon the roof of the tournament building. His smug smirk taunted me from afar, igniting fury within my chest. Oh, how I longed to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. Turning my attention elsewhere, I passed by a figure that gave me pause.

It was a tall and very muscular bald man; having a large scar on the right side of his chest that crossed his collarbone and ran down to his abdomen. His outfit consists of a green baggy toga-like top. A pair of baggy green pants, red-and-green wristbands, black boots with yellow covers, and a red sash.

But the third eye on his forehead caught my attention, its piercing gaze boring into my soul. But before either of us could speak, a voice shattered the stillness, pulling me back to the present, and turned around. It was Goku; who stood behind me, his smile genuine despite the strain evident in his voice.

"You put up quite a fight back there. That move you pulled, caught me by surprise. Looking forward to a rematch, and this time, let's go all out!"

His eagerness was palpable, infectious even, but I couldn't help but smirk behind my facemask, amused by his obliviousness to my true identity and the depths of my power; I highly doubted he ever would find out about me.

"Sure, if you can find me," I replied, my tone laced with a hint of cockiness that went unnoticed by Goku. His grin widened, his eyes alight with excitement like a child promised a reward for good behavior.

But as the announcer's voice boomed through the arena, heralding the start of the next match, my focus shifted to the upcoming fight between Krillin and Junior. I chose to remain rooted in place, a silent observer to study Junior's skills and abilities. Despite my outward calm, a sense of worry gnawed at the edges of my consciousness.

What if Junior was worse than King Piccolo?

I felt compelled to warn Krillin of the threat that he would face. But before I could intercede, Goku stepped forward, his demeanor shifting from jovial to solemn in an instant. He approached the short, noseless man clad in an orange gi, his black eyes brimming with curiosity.

"Krillin, your opponent for the next match is no ordinary warrior," Goku cautioned, his voice tinged with a gravity that belied his usual cheerfulness.

Krillin arched an eyebrow, intrigued by his friend's cryptic warning. "How so?" he inquired, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"Trust me, keep your guard up," Goku replied. As their conversation unfolded, my suspicions grew. Goku's words hinted at a deeper connection between him, Junior, and perhaps even King Piccolo. It was a puzzle I couldn't solve, each piece adding to the mystery of his character.

With a silent nod of acknowledgment, Krillin walked away from us, his resolve determined despite the ominous energy emanating from Junior. Standing alongside Goku, I maintained my stoic facade, arms crossed as the two fighters entered the ring.

Their exchange of words was lost in the roar of the crowd, but the tension hung heavy in the air. As Krillin assumed a defensive stance and Junior stood motionless, his energy, thick with malice, enveloped the arena like a suffocating shroud.

A sudden tug at my core drew my attention to Krillin, his ki energy surging with unexpected power. Disbelief flickered across my features as I realized he, too, possessed the ability to harness his inner power. The realization was both intriguing and unsettling.

How many people know about ki? First Goku, then this guy?! This brethren of the seven dwarfs', noseless, bald guy!? Damn, I haven't been keeping up with society, and I guess this is normal to people nowadays, or maybe at least in this continent.

Even Junior, his smug grin fading, seemed to recognize the gravity of Krillin's energy. With a burst of light, Krillin unleashed a torrent of ki energy, two beams of light hurtling toward his opponent with a fierce shout. Yet, Junior remained unfazed, effortlessly evading the assault by soaring into the air.

But Krillin was not deterred. With a quick shift in strategy, Krillin redirected his beams, following Junior's movements. Junior retaliated with his own eye beams, shattering Krillin's attack, the resulting explosions sending shockwaves rippling through the air.

To my astonishment, Krillin closed the distance with lightning speed, his fist connecting squarely with Junior's face, sending Junior hurtling backward in a whirlwind of motion. Goku's exclamation of awe echoed through the air, a sentiment I couldn't help but share.

As the fight continued, Krillin landed on the ground, his movements fluid and controlled. Junior—undeterred by the blow, landed on the ground and faced his opponent. My focus remained as Krillin surged forward; Junior dodged and parried his flurry of punches, bringing them perilously close to the edge of the ring.

With a leap, they soared into the air, the arena below shrinking to a mere speck beneath them. Junior's powerful kick sent Krillin hurtling toward the ground, eliciting cries of concern from Goku.

My heart raced as I watched, my mind torn between fear for Krillin's safety and admiration for his resilience. But just as it seemed he would meet his end in a bone-crushing fall, Krillin halted mid-air, defying the laws of physics that left me in awe.

Regardless, it was more alarming that these fighters possessed abilities far beyond the realm of human comprehension. If the government were to harness such power, capturing me would be child's play.

Krillin hovered and landed in the center of the arena, wiping blood from his lips; a hush fell over the crowd.

"I think I speak for the entire audience how unbelievable that was. Just amazing!" The announcer's voice cut through the silence like a knife, his words a reverent homage to the spectacle that had unfolded before us. Through the members of the crowd, I strained to catch the exchange between Krillin and Junior.

"I must admit you surprised me. Your moves and techniques are adequate for such a limited mind. I congratulate you. Forgive my bias, I see now that I can afford to show you a little of my real power."

Junior's smug grin spoke volumes, his words dripping with arrogance and disdain. I could taste the bitterness of his ego as Krillin met his gaze with a steely resolve.

"Real power? Okay, let's see it," Krillin challenged him with a chuckle. Yet, deep down, I knew the danger from Junior's facade. His cunning, like that of a sly fox, that Junior's display of power would be nothing short of catastrophic.

My gaze narrowed, a feeling of apprehension coursing through me as Junior's ki energy surged, his form expanding. His aura, once a mere echo of his father's malice, now swelled with a power that sent ripples of unease and irritation cascading through my being.

His energy is different from King Piccolo's centuries ago. This is not good.

The crowd erupted into cheers once more, the tension thick enough to slice through with a blade. With a menacing grin, Junior extended his arm, his limb elongated, catching everyone off guard, including Krillin. He ensnared Krillin in his grasp before delivering a devastating blow that sent the fighter hurtling toward the unforgiving walls of the arena.

Yet, in a display of resilience, Krillin rebounded with astonishing speed, launching himself back into the fray. Caught off guard, Junior found himself on the defensive, gracefully evading Krillin's onslaught before striking back with a vicious kick. His foot connected with Krillin's torso with bone-crushing force, sending the hapless warrior soaring into the heavens once more.

As the battle raged on, I strained to keep up with the flurry of movements, my senses tingling with anticipation. But Krillin unleashed a surprise attack, a burst of ki energy illuminating the sky. As Krillin unleashed a blinding burst of ki energy, I dared to hope for a turning point in the fight. But my sanguinity was short-lived, shattered by Goku's frantic warning.

"Behind you, Krillin! It's a trap!"

Junior's trap was set, his hands clasped together as he unleashed a devastating blow from above. Krillin plummeted to the earth below, the impact shattering the arena floor with a sickening thud. I could almost feel the repercussions of his bones shattering.

The arena fell into a hushed silence, the once raucous crowd now eerily muted as all eyes turned to the fallen figure of Krillin. Despite the stillness that enveloped the arena, I could sense the faint pulse of his energy, a fragile thread that tethered him to consciousness.

As Junior descended to the ground, his malevolent chuckle resonated through the air. Behind the mask that obscured my face, I clenched my teeth in frustration, my gaze locked on the scene unfolding before me.

A flicker of movement caught my eye.

A twitch, barely perceptible, signaled Krillin's gradual return to consciousness. And then, with a low groan of anguish, he stirred, defying the odds stacked against him, his resilience catching Junior and myself by surprise. Slowly, laboriously, Krillin rose to his feet. Junior's facade of superiority momentarily shattered by the unexpected turn of events.

"Krillin is back on his feet, brace yourselves for this fight is not over yet," the announcer's voice boomed, punctuated by the roar of the crowd. Despite his valiant effort, Krillin's strength waned, his body betraying the toll of the battle.

I watched as Krillin decided to stand down, his body battered and bruised, but his spirit unbroken. In a display of sportsmanship and respect, the decision to concede the match was made, with the announcer declaring Junior the victor.

I felt a rush of wind as Goku raced to Krillin's side, a silent gesture of solidarity and support. As I stood amidst the jubilant throng, my gaze shifted to Junior; his frustration oozed in the air. I watched in silent contemplation as he retreated from the arena, his aura crackling with untamed energy. It was clear that he wouldn't rest until his thirst for power was quenched, and the world trembled beneath his feet.

With the announcement of the upcoming match ringing in my ears, I decided to depart; I made my way toward the tournament building. It was time to strategize. With Junior's formidable power fresh in my mind, I knew I had to remember the containment wave technique. Lost in thought, I was suddenly jolted back to reality by a voice behind me.

"You poor soul, you must leave."

•◉◒☆◒◉•

Finished: May 12, 2024

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: 003 | 𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑬'𝑺 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑩𝑳𝑬 NEXT CHAPTER: 005 | 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑨𝑳𝒀𝑺𝑻

LINK TO THE BOOK [WATTPAD]: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 — 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 If you're interested in stories like these, here is my 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[d3caynluv]

ཐ🪦 ᜴ ִ ׂ 𓂂   AMERICAN TEENAGER . . . NAM NAKYUNG SOLO RELEASE !

NAM NAKYUNG has made her long-awaited SOLO DEBUT! Debuting with an EP titled "White Picket Fences" she is the first Pushing Daises member to have her official solo debut. The self-written EP contains a unique and compelling blend of dreamy atmospheres, raw emotion, and introspective lyrics that captivate and transport listeners into her world.

With all the songs being in English, Nakyung only performed four special stages on The Show and Inkigayo. She did perform mini-concerts throughout Korea and in the United States.

001. AMERICAN TEENAGER, "American Teenager" is a haunting melody that paints a poignant picture of youth in America. Nakyung wrote the song herself, reflecting on her and her brothers' youth in America. "I thought about my older brother while writing the song. He spent the most time in America and he was kinda a troublemaker when he was a teenager. He's so American." Nakyung would go on to tell fans. The music video was filmed by Nakyung and her bandmate Elliot Son on an old video camera they bought off eBay. "I didn't want anything high budget. I just wanted to make music and have fun with my friends." The friends featured are mainly from her group, Pushing Daisies, and Chloe Zhao of her former group, Venus.

002. CRUSH, "Crush" is a dreamy and melancholic masterpiece, painting a poetic picture of unrequited love and longing. With haunting synths and delicate guitar melodies, the song immerses the listener in a dreamlike world of yearning and heartbreak. Produced by ELL.i AKA Elliot Son, Nakyung's close friend and groupmate, who also helped with writing the song. The music video was also shot on an old video camera but only starred Nakyung and Elliot, sparking dating rumors between the two. "We're very close so we always get dating rumors. We just don't pay attention to them anymore," Nakyung explains about the pair's relationship.

003. NINE TO FIVE, "The"Nine to Five"'s lyrics speak to the struggles of trying to let go of a past love, with Nakyung singing of the heart-wrenching memories that come flooding back during her work shift. The poetic imagery of the song captures the weight of regret and the fear of never truly moving on. Nine to Five doesn't have a music video but many were impressed by Nakyung's vocals via videos of her performing the song on her mini tours. "I used to allow myself to stay stuck in horrible memories," Nakyung explains, "I was so scared of staying stuck in the past, stuck on a person, and I poured that into this song."

004. PLEASE LEAVE ME, In "Please Leave Me," the lyrics offer a poetic contemplation of the unforgiving nature of the world and the people in it, as she sings about the tough decisions and sacrifices that are necessary for survival. The song's haunting melody and atmospheric production convey a feeling of introspection and vulnerability. Nakyung doesn't like to talk about "Please Leave Me" as she deems it too personal for her to talk about. We only know that the song was written and produced by Nakyung and Chloe Zhao.

CRITICAL RECEPTION of "White Picket Fences" was extremely positive by music critics. The EP received at solid score of 84 on Metacritic with one critic writing: "This EP is an absolute gem and showcases some serious artistry and musicianship that is hard to come by in a new artist. Each of the four tracks on this EP is a masterpiece in its own right."

Many were stunned by the inclusion of Chloe Zhao, a friend turned rival turned friend again. Though the addition of Zhao on the album definitely benefited the EP, many Nakyung fans were opposed to Chloe's mere presence on the EP seemingly holding a longer grudge than Nakyung.

[thelouvrefm]

— 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 . . .

♕ ( muse l / 42 / cis woman / she/her/hers ) — did you see JOSEPHINE REYES wandering around the island today? they kind of look like NATALIE PORTMAN from certain angles? i heard around town that the OWNER OF CLEAN SLATE is INNOVATIVE, and SPIRITED, but also RETICENT, and SELF-DESTRUCTIVE. people say that they remind them of A TIMER CLOSE TO HITTING ZERO, DRINKING COGNAC IN A BUBBLE BATH, and THE POUNDING OF RUNNING SHOES AGAINST COLD CONCRETE, and ALL THESE THINGS THAT I’VE DONE by THE KILLERS is definitely their theme song. they seem like a nice enough person, but we all know how hard it is to keep a pristine reputation in a small town. ( lauryn / 22 / cst / she/her/hers )

b a c k g r o u n d —

[ ! ] TRIGGER WARNING : MENTION OF RELIGION, DIVORCE, STEALING, LEGAL TROUBLE, PARENTAL DEATH

 001. a doted on only child born in kings haven in 1980. josephine’s childhood was normal and about as far from traumatizing as it gets. her parents were loving and had sufficiently prepared for the arrival of their baby girl. they were well off and had plenty of help from josephine’s grandparents. josephine was given every resource imaginable growing up and all the support her parents could muster up.

 002. josephine’s parents were jewish, and she was raised accordingly. while her parents were raised in orthodox judaism, they grew to practice reform judaism. though they seemed committed to raising josephine in judaism at first, their efforts dwindled as time went on until they were the family who just observed the “important” holidays.

 003. josephine was a fairly average child, but the influx of resources gave her more opportunities and strengthened her strong attributes. she was probably a little bit smarter than the average kid, nothing near gifted, but her at home studies paired with her school teachings helped build her intellect. from a young age, josephine also exhibited an interest in art. so, of course, her parents would sit down with her and an art teacher every other day to hone her craft. her interest was mostly in watercolor paintings, though she dabbled in varying art and pottery mediums as a way to figure out what amused her.

 004. a happy and well adjusted child, josephine had many friends and was involved in a couple after school programs like girl scouts and soccer. she was vibrant and described as a ray of sunshine. and who would expect anything different with a life like hers? only, as she grew older, while nothing around her changed, what was inside of her did.

 005. there was an introspection and discipline that came naturally to josephine from her years of gentle parenting. josephine was well aware of her privilege and security as she aged, and there was an ever-growing need inside of her to self destruct. looking at it from an outside perspective was funny, a girl with a perfect life looking for reasons to be sad. but the thought behind it was really quite simple: there was a monotony in her routine that left her with the absence of excitement.

 006. josephine made a real effort in fending off that need to self destruct, but life sought to equal the balance. her parents announced their separation when josephine was 12 years old. it came as a shock to the young girl. perhaps there were warning signs, hushed arguments heard from down the hall, the slow disintegration of their religious practices, more silence at the dinner table than usual… but divorce? josephine hardly even understood the concept.

 007. those resources that were once available to josephine slowly began to dwindle as the logistics of the separation took up much of her parents’ time. josephine began to recede within her own mind, lacking the usual outside presence that she was accustomed to. as it turns out, her thoughts were very loud. social isolation became somewhat of a new norm for josephine. she would sit at the lunch table with her friends still, but sleepovers and trips for ice cream were no longer existent.

 008. anger and fear plagued josephine’s mind. she experienced anger toward her parents, the changes being made in her life, the world in general. she was with her mother most of the time, during the week but no weekends, but it wasn’t the same. her once lively, dedicated mother was now relatively hollow, at least compared to her old disposition. josephine could tell she was trying to pick herself back up, but the struggle was apparent.

 009. flash forward to age 15, josephine had mostly adjusted to the changes in her life. was there some subtle lasting damage? probably. but she had much more going for her now than she did at age 12. high school was kind to josephine; she was well liked, popular even. she was starting varsity for soccer in her sophomore year. though her dedication to her schoolwork wasn’t strong, she managed to keep her grades up. it wasn’t that josephine was lacking in intellect, she was simply unmotivated. that peppy demeanor that she kept up around her friends wasn’t always present at home.

 010. see, josephine did well when other people were around. her thoughts and anxieties did not scream in her head like they did when she was alone. that same little need to destruct that was growing as a kid had grown quite large now; it was becoming hard to ignore. this led josephine to start stealing things whenever she would go to the store. it was little at first, some chapstick or a twix, until she moved onto big ticket items.

 011. she would put things in her cart and “forget” to scan them. it was a destructive habit at first, causing her to feel shame, until it turned into something else. josephine grew to look forward to these trips of hers. she would often try to outdo herself, until she was eventually caught. she had stolen a trashcan; had there not been items stashed inside, perhaps she could’ve claimed that she forgot to scan it. she ended up doing diversion to get the charge wiped from her record.

 012. kings haven being such a small town, word certainly got around. josephine was embarrassed as her friends exiled her, though the vast majority of kids couldn’t care less. it might’ve even earned her a little street cred. regardless, josephine had momentarily ruined her life enough to quiet that need of hers. when she felt it building back up, however, she found an appropriate outlet for her feelings: painting. her love of art had been rediscovered. after the divorce, josephine had grown out of painting regularly. it had produced some bad associations for her, but she felt ready to try again.

 013. soccer was switched for art clubs and local art competitions. josephine found new friends within the art community, feeling as though they were a much better fit for her. now, when she was alone, all she had to do to quiet her brain was throw herself into a project. it was easy for josephine to get lost in things, a good book or a new project. she wouldn’t be part of this world anymore, she was apart of something much greater, something beautiful.

 014. after high school, josephine went off to college to acquire a bachelor’s degree in business administration. art seemed far more tempting, but her father’s pressure to yield financial success was etched into her brain. and soon enough, josephine was married! it was a whirlwind romance for her, the fairy tale of her dreams. diego had truly charmed her, and josephine was ready to take on the world with him. they settled down, got a house, and focused on building a life together.

 015. following graduation, josephine took a job in market research. it was unfulfilling in many ways, but she convinced herself that it would get better eventually. with diego’s support and her escape via art, it was manageable. her twenties were fairly standard; she matured and had time for self exploration. the prime of her life was lived well; she had friends, family, love, beauty, and enough money to scrape by. it wasn’t until her thirties that things began to fall apart.

 016. things with diego had changed; there was an unspoken disconnect. they were meant to be open with each other, but it seemed neither one of them wanted to admit that something was different. josephine had always felt as though maybe she loved diego more than he had loved her, but it seemed like things had began deteriorating more and more. she could see his dissatisfaction growing with his life, but she had no words to help or talk it through. eventually, they were more like roommates than spouses.

 017. with this, josephine felt as though she was going crazy. there was a desperation in her to fix things, but she felt as though she would be overreacting or pushing him away further if she were to bring it up. so, she stayed quiet and suffered internally. she tried to be a positive presence around him and hoped that was enough, until eventually their time together became less frequent. josephine was spending more time alone; without much distraction outside of work, she was led her to pursue other things in her career. this led to her buying an empty gallery space.

 018. clean slate, a rather fitting name for her new business. the building was advertised as a space to be rented out for exhibits or events, funded in part by her parents. it was something to do, something to fill in the spaces of silence when she and diego ran out of things to talk about. somewhere to sit in the emptiness when it was lacking an exhibit. there was a small building connected to the space that housed a permanent rotation of local art and photography, offering prints at a price. it was a way for josephine to shine some light on local artists; it brightened her days enough to make them bearable. clean slate didn’t pull in the big bucks, but it was sufficient enough, and it was hers.

 019. unfortunately, that wasn’t built to last. not long after she turned 40, her father died of a heart attack. it was an unexpected and devastating blow that turned her world upside down for quite some time. it seemed like no one around her knew how to console her, what to say. it killed much of her spirit and motivation in ways that she hasn’t yet recovered.

 020. flash forward to now… josephine is going through somewhat of a midlife crisis, if you couldn’t tell from the convertible parked outside of her house that she just traded her old car in for. often times, diego doesn’t even sleep in their home. she has silently wondered where he goes all the time, but she wouldn’t dare to ask. there is perhaps a small part of her that doesn’t want to seem like the nagging wife, even if there is some growing resent that’s getting harder to ignore. josephine doesn’t want to admit that perhaps their marriage is over. that would mean admitting that she had wasted nearly half of her life, that she was going down the same path as her parents. no, she couldn’t do that… but that little need to self destruct is growing again, and she’s not quite sure how to stop it.

[ ! ] TLDR : was super loved and well cared for as a kid until her parents got divorced. has this need to self destruct that is ever-present, though art helps. got in trouble for stealing in her adolescence, ended up getting a bachelor’s degree in business administration. eventually opened up clean slate (an exhibition space) and is now in a failing marriage

p e r s o n a l i t y —

 001. josephine presents herself in a certain way to the outside world. while she is generally polite and sometimes soft spoken in public, she is incredibly spirited and has a raging fire inside of her. josephine sometimes needs some help breaking out of her shell, but when she does, she is a sight to behold. she is fun, wild, compassionate. this was mostly how she presented herself in her 20s, but as time went on, she began to feel buried and that nature of hers is now harder to access.

 002. her creativity and vivid imagination benefit her art in a variety of ways. josephine isn’t exactly known for being entirely rooted in reality; she is a bit out of touch and a bit out of it in general. she seeks more than this life could offer her, which is why she tries to escape through her art. there is a feeling that she possess that grows with time and encourages her to self destruct. when she listens to that feeling and takes action, it seems to quiet for a while. josephine is typically a patient person; the only time this isn’t the case is when she’s already very frustrated.

 003. it could be the multiple cups of coffee she consumes on the daily, but josephine is a pretty jittery person. she can appear on edge to people who don’t know her very well. josephine is generally very career oriented, especially when there’s a lack in her relationships, or in her life in general. her communication could certainly use some work, but josephine’s sympathetic and compassionate nature has made it so that building relationships with people aren’t too difficult for her. josephine has a hard time verbalizing her thoughts and emotions, so she is more likely to hide them.

about. statistics. headcanons. connections.

[lovenge]

❖ 𝑰𝑵 𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑲𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑬 [ ... ] a revenant is a spirit or animated corpse that is believed to have been revived from death to haunt the living.

private + selective retelling of HEATHCLIFF inspired by the pages of EMILY BRONTE'S wuthering heights. other pieces of media are highly influenced to this portrayal, as it will delve into the nature and world experienced by him. scripted by renée. seasian. she/her, 25+. [ ... ] this world deals with the struggles within social class, poverty, discrimination of 19th century socialism. proceed with caution, as this is considered to be a mature blog. rules under the cut. divergence will be talked about soon!

heavy introspection on mental illness, struggles of existence, etc. a study on tragedy and revenge, scorned love and turn to pure madness ... generational curses, alcoholism, broken love, birds of a feather, the misunderstood, the mad poet: the man who could not go on. the one who is never enough.

mains: other:

 the rewriting of Heathcliff fits into gothic horror settings . after starvation that led into his death , he did not die with a light heart . Heathcliff's jealousy and rage manifested into a violent entity that haunts human lives . takes the appearance of an angry ghoul , sometimes will possess corpses and/or attempt human vessels to exact his revenge . due to his death by starvation , many will feel an uncomfortable almost painful hunger within his presence . it also serves as an indicator that he's near .

[  001  ]  i'm going to keep things lowkey here , but basically BASIC RP ETTIQUITE IS EXPECTED. any form of hate, bigotry or nonsense will not be tolerated, at this point I feel it's pretty stark on what that entails. any form of racism, anti-semitic, ableism, aggressive posting / duplicate bashing, vaguing , petty callout posts ( there's a difference between informing the rpc on a problematic person and fueling drama. ) any gross behavior , please do not bring any of it to my blog. I will also often remove myself from things that make me uncomfortable and soft/block for my comfort. if i do unfollow i always softblock , please do not approach me asking why.

[  002  ]  based on the vibe and whether or not i feel like using icons , i may or may not. I use small font with double space , sometimes regular font depending on what i'm feeling. i primarily write in third person , am not against anyone writing in first person , literally do what you want it's super chill here. i exclusively use beta editor, please use it. I prefer not to respond to super tiny / high aesthetically formatted things because it's just not friendly to users who have problems with eye - strain , etc. [  003  ]  THE EASIEST WAY TO WRITE W ME: is to continue prompts i've answered , turning them into threads. or alternatively, I will reblog anything you answer as a thread if muse strikes. spam me with memes / prompts! i always say this but , there's no expiration date to anything i reblog. if you want to interact , sending memes is the easiest way. i like to keep a small following , focusing on a dash with those who i can see myself writing with, which means I won't always follow back. this is not meant to be taken as serious as it sounds, i just genuinely cannot write with everyone , i hope you understand. i can sometimes be slow with replies. if i owe, i truly don't mind being reminded.

[ 004 ] THIS IS VERY MUCH A MATURE BLOG. it delves into the social class of the 19th century onward, discrimination and racism will be themes that fall against HEATHCLIFF as a character. i will always tag heavy topics, but i won't remove these experiences from my interpretation as they heavily change and determine the way his entire structure and world falls apart. on the note of ambiguity that has been considered an argument: HEATHCLIFF is not a White Briton, nor will that ever come into discussion on this blog. He was adopted into a well off family, has always been described with dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. in reference to being regarded to a derogatory term i won't use but is (Lashkar, originated from the Arabic word al-'Askir) in referencing south asian seafarers.

[  005  ]  shipping isn't necessary to write with me, however i'm always open to the idea of different ships, as well as platonic connections. ADDITIONALLY, i can't ship instantly even if we're writing muses that have a connection. i'm heavily plot based and that includes shipping. i prefer to talk about our muses in depth before considering whether or not the chemistry is there. HEATHCLIFF is not mentally well and i can hardly consider anything would be considered healthy, however i am down to plot things out!

  006  ]  :  MAINS.  i will state that i obviously will have a preference for writers that i plot with/write with frequently, but uncertain on having exclusives because i like to write with a variety depending on how things play out. this blog will contain affiliates, which simply means my blog is affiliated around certain muse(s) does not mean exclusive , it just means they hold priority to plots, replies, etc.

[agincourtier]

reviews for ransom #004

TITLE: Grosse Pointe Blank

DIRECTOR(S): George Armitage

GENRE(S): Action, Romance, Comedy

RATING: 9/10

REVIEW: Wow, what a riot of a film! I've barely scraped the surface of R-rated action comedies, but this was fantastic. The writing's dry wit was hilarious, and every actor gave a great performance, Dan Aykroyd being a particularly pleasant surprise. I expected good humor and an enjoyable romance, but I wasn't anticipating a well-handled investigation on morality. Instead of getting a hitman who just kills to kill, you receive a complete wreck of burnout in Martin Blank. I want to avoid spoilers when I write reviews, but one scene that sets up the climactic ending shocked me totally and was followed by a surprisingly deep conversation. I don't feel like deep introspection is often the way of things in this genre of movie, which is a shame since it was great here. This is underrated, and as a wacky, tonal symphony of a good time, that's a damn shame.

[captainignatiuspigheart]

Mental Health Track 004 Another day, another bout of introspection. It’s been a nice weekend: quiet, couple of cinema expeditions, some nice beers and a whole lot of sitting about watching TV, reading and building LEGO sets. I’m noting these ordinary things purely in the interests of paying attention to what I’m doing. It’s so easy to do stuff and let it all just drift past. That’s somewhat exacerbated by my enjoyment of transient activities like improvised comedy – I enjoy doing it, but I’m damned if I can remember anything I did on stage from more than a week ago – and I guess a lot of the other things I do are similar. Hell, maybe everything is transient: I can remember reading a book and I love the experience of being immersed in the storytelling, but I suppose I don’t remember that much of it afterwards, and certainly can’t call back to favourite memories of being deeply into reading the book. Maybe I shouldn’t be able to remember ... >> Read On with Mental https://wp.me/pbprdx-8Y6

[cinematicnomad]

004, 006 and 014!

#4 untitled document (teen wolf) is ??? all of 3 sentences. i have no idea where it was going, but it's clearly college era stiles, and he is thinking of the objectively Good Things™ in his life—of which his dad and college are the only 2 things i have on this list lol. if i had to guess, i assume this would have been a fic of stiles dealing with some trauma and feelings of insecurity while at college maturing into his own self. and i only guess that bc that's the kind of fic i would want to read 😅

#6 halefamilyhatesstiles is, i THINK, inspired by some tv movie i saw once?? anyway, the half page i have written sets up that derek has invited stiles along on some sort of hale family trip (i think it was meant to be camping? or some sort of of summer outdoors cabin adventure) and stiles is accidentally overhearing cora asking derek why he bothered to invite his annoying boyfriend along. if memory serves, stiles was going to spend the whole trip trying to get along with everyone but they were gonna treat him like an outsider (i THINK it was gonna be that they were werewolves and didn't approve of derek dating a human not in the know) and tensions were going to keep climbing higher until stiles inevitably got injured in an accident and everyone was going to have to get over themselves once they realized how much derek loved him and how genuinely wonderful stiles was.

and last, #14 jess is a 2 page short fic from supernatural's stanford!era of jess asking sam about a scar on his stomach and then her going over the story in her mind and thinking about how she hates when sam lies. worrying about all the scars she knows he has and all the different lies he's told her about them. and trying to piece together what little she knows to be true to paint a picture of his childhood without realizing that she's missing the great big supernatural puzzle piece. it would have probably just been a small introspective piece where nothing was really resolved bc i'm a sucker for those.

ask me about my wips

[alder-reid]

TASK 004. Intelligence.

Intrapersonal Intelligence or “self smarts” is the ability to understand oneself and utilize such knowledge in one’s decision-making and planning. People high in this trait are typically well aware of their thoughts, feelings, weaknesses, strengths, and motivations. Moreover, they usually have rich and rewarding introspections and like to process their experiences in depth. They express their feelings creatively and put others at ease by being maturely self-aware. This type of intelligence is often demonstrated by psychologists, writers, theorists, philosophers, scientists, and spiritual leaders.

2. Naturalistic Intelligence or “nature smarts” is the ability to be in tune with the natural world and discern the patterns that govern its ecology. People high in this trait are interested in learning more about nature, exploring and saving the environment, and nurturing life. They are typically skilled at looking for relationships, differences, and patterns in nature. Nature-smart people enjoy hiking, camping, gardening, and other outdoor activities. This intelligence is demonstrated by farmers, biologists, foresters, geologists, breeders, horticulturists, and animal trainers.

3. Interpersonal Intelligence or “people smarts” is the ability to effectively interact with and understand other people. People high in this trait are usually known for their advanced communication skills, empathy, and ability to assess others’ feelings and intentions correctly. They are also usually great at solving conflicts and creating positive relationships around them. Psychologists, educators, politicians, social workers, and people who work in sales are usually high in this trait.

[rpnzel]

BOLD  what  applies  to  your  muse  ,   ITALICIZE  what  they  like    /    repost  ,    don’t  reblog  !

FIRE.  ICE.  WATER.  AIR.  CLAWS.  FANGS.  WINGS.  GOLD.  DIAMONDS.  GRASS.  LEAVES.  TREES.  ROSES.  METAL.  IRON.  RUST.  RAIN.  SNOW.  RIBBON.  LACE.  SILK.  COTTON.  SUN.  MOON.  STARS.  BLOOD.  DIRT.  MUD.  SILVER.  STEEL.  SUGAR.  SALT.  LAVENDER.  GLASS.  WOOD.  PAPER.  WOOL.  FUR.  SMOKE.  ASH.  OCEAN.  BRUISE.  SCAR.  LACERATION.  BRAND.  BURN.  WIND.  SPICES.  LIGHT.  DARK.  PAINT.  CHARCOAL.  WINE.  HARD LIQUOR.  SWEAT.  DUST.  BARE FEET.  CANINE.  FELINE.  COFFEE.  TEA.  BOOKS.  SCRATCHES.  PETALS.  THORNS.  HAY.  GLITTER.  HEAT.  COLD.  STEAM.  FROST.  CANDLE.  SWORD.  DAGGER.  AXE.  LANCE.  ARROW.  HAMMER.  SHIELD.  SPIKES.  SAND.  ROCKS.  ROOTS.  FEATHERS.  PEARLS.  RUBIES.  SAPPHIRES.  EMERALDS.  HERBS.  WAVES.  LIGHTNING.  SUNLIGHT.  MOONLIGHT.  CLAY.  STONE.  BRICK.  MARBLE.  FRUIT.  MEAT.  POISON.  MEDICINE.  SNAKE.  BIRD.  CLOCK.  SHELL.  LEATHER.  CHAIN.  TIE.  HAT.  HEART.  SPADE.  CLUB.  DIAMOND.  GLOVES.  EYES.  SUNSET.  SUNRISE.  DAWN.  DUSK.  MAPS.  BOOTS.  LOVE.  LOSS.  KILLER.  LIAR.  HEALER.  CASTLE.  FORT.  STRONGHOLD.  HOTEL.  TOWER.  BRIDGE.  CATHEDRAL.  MUSEUM.  MAUSOLEUM.  GALLERY.  LIBRARY.  DANCE HALL.  NIGHT CLUB.  SCHOOL.  ACADEMY.  NEON.  PASTEL.  GOTH.  GRUNGE.  PREPPY.  SCROLLS.  INK WELLS.  HAIRSPRAY.  LIPSTICK.  EYELINER.  SHRINE.  TAPESTRY.  MURAL.  GRAFFITI.  CARNIVAL.  CASINO.  SKYSCRAPERS.  HILLS.  FARMS.  ANKLETS.  BRACELETS.  CHOKERS.  SCARVES.  SWEETS.  SKY.  EARTH.  CALLIGRAPHY.  PAINTING.  WRITING.  EMBROIDERY.

tagged by  :    stole it from an old blog of mine tagging  :    @vadeheir​  ,    @painakin​  ,    @fareyst​  ,    @slipperglass​  ,    @glorywaited​  ,    @sunlightswallowed​  ,    @saintehylia​  ,    @hyruleir​    &    you  !

[fictionrevealed]

tag dump! basic info tags & verses shit.

in character. –– & on your back; you carry the moon. 

out of character. –– ah shit; here we go again.

Verses.

001: killing game. ––  i reject you! i reject danganronpa!

002: talent development plan. –– take these wings & learn to fly.

003: virtual reality. ––  sounds of laughter & shades of life ring through our open ears.

004: my hero academia. –– gaze into the abyss to discern the truth.

005: pregame. –– i won’t hesitate to smile while you suffocate & die.

006: persona. –– break down your fortress heart.

007: welcome to night vale. –– what shifts beneath these sands?

Ic shit.

introspection. –– the darkness dwells in these academy walls.

isms. –– every nuance is but a frame in everyone’s story.

aesthetic. –– the truth shall emerge from your rusted jaw.

wardrobe. –– a good detective always suits up for success.

[fidelissimi-moved]

[trashm0uth]

tag drop /

[heiszou]

tags at last

[gogcther-a]

// tag dump