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drunkdumbfucker · 5 months

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Legolas suffering from sea-longing | Ao3 fic recs

Hello, under the read more you'll find a masterlist of fics where Legolas goes through the ordeal of sea-longing! 99% of them will include the pairing Gimli/Legolas, this list exists to be edited and nourished as long as I keep ruining my happiness with their existence :))))

"Legolas Greenleaf long under tree In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea! If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more." Galadriel

root and stone, song and sea, by @coveredinsun | words 13k+, post-canon, fluff and angst & Gimleaf

Summary: "[...] Or: A few looks into Legolas' sea-longing, and the joyous things that make it more bearable." [this one broke me I cried and smiled and every sentence deserves to be cherished, and everything this author writes is gold]

rebuil your seawall (brick by brick), by @deheerkonijn | words 30k+, modernAU & Gimleaf

Summary: "For weeks and months, Legolas has felt a pull - and dares not name it, does not heed its stormy-sky warnings, does not track the ebb and flow on the shoreline of his life. Here’s the thing about the tide, though: it rises whether one wills it or not." [this one made me lose my shit it was so well thought and the universe in which it's set is immense and dear, such a great series]

Across the sea (a pale moon rises), by loving_rat_314 | words 10k (unfinished), post-canon & old age & Gimleaf

Summary: "After Aragorn`s death, Legolas and Gimli brave an uncertain journey into the West." [don't talk to me don't look at me]

On the Cold Hill Side, by @mcvices | words 24k, missing scene & Gimleaf

Summary: "In the end, Gimli thinks, Legolas will steal his heart and sail away with it, and even the wonders of the Glittering Caves are not enough consolation for that loss. But when Aragorn calls for Gimli’s help in dismantling the hidden traps of Orthanc, everything changes." [I don't even know what to say, fell in love with the writing, adored it all, really great dialogues]

The Undying, by Angela | words 20k, old age & pining & slow-burn Gimleaf

Summary: “I was wondering,” Gimli had said at the beginning of it. “Isn't it about time you get started on that boat of yours?” It has been over one hundred years since the War of the Ring. Gimli and a dwarf girl named Mâglah help Legolas build his ship to sail into the west. While they are working, Legolas realizes that there are a lot of things that have been long unexpressed between him and his dearest friend, things that must be said and done before it is too late." [so complete, precious OC, heart-wrenching details and moments]

Seasick, by Longyan | words 3k, growing old & Gimleaf

Summary: "The pull has existed for a long time. It has always been there, just at the back of his mind ― a mere childish curiosity, to see waves break against the shore, to feel fresh breeze in his hair. Still, it was never more than a passing thought, something that would always be drowned out by other, more interesting things. Nothing more, nothing less. The world is bright. Sauron is gone. And Legolas is sure, as long he has Gimli by his side, the water has no power over him. And he is intent on staying forever." [short but strong, like Gimli. Will fuck you up, I kid you not, very powerful shit right here]

what a thing to choose, by coverdinsun (again) | words 4k, post-canon & Arwen stan account & Gimleaf

Summary: "[...] Or: As time appears to be slipping out of his grasp, Legolas must grapple with his fear." [idk I love your little short summaries in the end. another masterpiece, trule wonderful dialogue, some of my fave characterizations in here]

To the sea, by @roselightfairy | words 13k, so much angst & Gimleaf

Summary: "A few decades into their shared lives, Legolas seems to be losing his battle against the sea-longing. The only solution that he can think of is to go to the sea. Of course, Gimli will not let him go alone." [this one hits really really hard, a slap to the face. so much angst yet so beautiful, pay attention to all the tags, prepare your tissues beforehand <3]

Go west, by undomiel (dolcewrites) | words 8k, angst++++ & Gimleaf

Summary: "The Sea has never left Legolas' mind since he first heard the cry of the gulls at Pelargir. As time catches up to the elf, he has to make a choice: to sail to the West, or to stay with his companion, Gimli the dwarf." [Maybe even more angsty than the last one because it touches all the despair and loss and pain]

To be continued!

#legolas greenleaf #lord of the rings #lotr #gimli son of gloin #gimleaf #fic rec #fic masterlist #sea-longing #my shitset #jrr tolkien

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 year

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𓃮 Even the Sun Influences the Tide: Chapter Two

Even the Sun Influences the Tide: After the death of your foster brother, King T’Challa, you had spent much of your year of mourning in isolation. When your mother gathers you and your sister to end your mourning period, you encounter the newest threat to Wakanda: Namor. You don’t know what to think of Namor, but you do know one thing: he probably shouldn’t be making trips to see you at your beach hut.

Warnings: Feelings.

To Note: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x Fem!Reader, I Tried To Make The Yucatec Maya & Xhosa Translations/Traditions As Accurate As I Can Get.

Word Count: ~3.0k

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One Year Since T’Challa’s Death

Sitting on your beach, you had your arms wrapped around your legs while you watched the water ebb and flow. One year. It had been one entire year since you had lost your brother and you, you didn’t know how you felt about that. Were you supposed to be upset? Were you supposed to scream, or cry, or shout to the ancestors? Surely it was time to stop mourning and move on. You had shed enough tears to fill Lake Victoria.

From behind you came the sound of the Royal Talon Fighter, and you knew that this was one visit and request, you would not be getting out of. Not when it had been exactly a year, not when you had-had your space for this long, not when your mother needed you. So you kept your gaze steady on the peaceful water, even as the sounds of people approaching reached your ears, your eyes did not stray.

“Princess,” Okoye’s voice echoed across your beach, ending your year long isolation from home. “The queen mother has called for you.” You took one last view of your home before sighing and slowly getting to your feet. You dusted yourself off and turned to see Okoye flanked by Ayo and Aneka.

“Did you expect me to resist?” You commented dryly, walking over and eyeing all three of them. “I may wish for solitude but I am not so obstinate to refuse the summons from the queen mother.” You muttered to them as you passed, heading for the ship.

“No, just stubborn enough to ignore the pleas from your mother.” Okoye called back, the trio of warriors following behind you. That drew a snort from you as you walked onto the falcon and took a seat. Okoye went to the controls and started piloting. Ayo went to speak with Okoye and Aneka took a seat next to you.

“How are you, princess?”

“I am living, Aneka,” You answered her. “But I do enjoy the peaceful silence. Staying busy keeps me happy.”

“It will be good to see you around once more, it has grown much to quiet.” Aneka hummed happily. You raised your eyebrow at her with a small chuckle.

“I’m not that loud,” You replied. “And surely Okoye keeps the place lively with training.”

“I heard that,”Okoye called over her shoulder.

“You were meant to,” You fired back, your smile turning mischievous. Okoye muttered something you couldn’t quite catch beneath her breath, but you didn’t mind. It felt good to smile again, even if it was only half way there. Turning your attention to the outside world, you watched as the bush turned to civilization, and then to the capital Birnin Zana. Your home filled you with sadness that you fought to keep from appearing on your face. When the talon touched down you were out of your seat and striding for the one place you were sure to find your mother: the throne room.

You probably should have changed into nicer clothes, or cleaned yourself up, or even had the royal stylist give your wild hair some attention… but you simply wished to get whatever your mother wanted… over with. Striding into the throne room, you spotted your mother standing in front of the large viewing windows that overlooked the rest of the city and stopped short. A period of silence went by with neither of you speaking. You decided to prompt her.

“You called for me, queen mother?” You spoke cordially in the event she was in a bad mood. Ramonda turned around and tired eyed met yours, you were worried that she was still angry at your decision. But that all melted away when her eyes softened and she strode towards you with her arms out.

“Y/N,” She breathed out, pulling you in for a comforting motherly hug. You felt frozen for a few moments, not expecting this reaction from your mother. But then you found it in yourself to respond and hug her back, soaking in the motherly comfort you had been without for a year.

“Hi mama,” You muttered, pressing your face into her shoulder. She gave you a squeeze before pulling back and looking at you, searching for anything wrong.

“One year, Y/N, one year you’ve been gone and you didn’t visit.” She said, cupping your cheeks. “Did we chase you away? Were you really that unhappy living here?”

You felt your eyes burn and pressed your lips together.

“It was never about you or Shuri or anyone else doing anything,” You whispered to her, placing your hands over hers. “I just—“ You chewed your lip nervously, having a hard time forming the words you wanted to communicate. “How many family members am I going to lose before I break? Three parents and my one and only brother? I feel like I am being ripped apart at the seams.”

“Then you shouldn’t be pushing everyone away from you, my daughter, I expect this from Shuri, not you.”

“I didn’t leave because I wanted to push you away, I left because I needed to find my purpose. I’m an outsider, I do not have the blood of the ancestors running through my veins, I am not connected to the ancestral plane. I’m—“

“My daughter,” Ramonda cut you off in a firm voice. “You are my daughter, Y/N, and that will never change. No matter who’s blood runs through your veins.” Your eyes watered and your lip trembled further.

“I still need a purpose, mama, and I don’t have one.” Ramonda sighed at you, not knowing what to do. You were her daughter. You didn’t need to be anything more than that. She and T’Chaka had adopted you to be their daughter. That was it. “Why have you summoned me?”

“Other than to finally see my wayward daughter?” She offered with a raised eyebrow. “It is time to end our mourning period, Y/N. Shuri will be joining us.” That made you frown.

“She might not be interested in participating, you know her beliefs on the traditions of old.” You softly whispered, knowing that while Shuri was respectful of the way of life, she often scoffed at rituals. You were fairly sure that she didn’t even believe in the ancestral plane. You sighed. “Mother, Shuri— she might not want to burn her funeral clothes.”

Ramonda caressed your cheek, knowing that while you were right about that, she would still try.

“Let me worry about that, Y/N. Come, it is time to collect Shuri from the lab.”

Hours later you were tending to the fire you and Shuri had built when the sun began to dip below the horizon. You had done this ritual once before, when your father, T’Chaka, had died. Ramonda, T’Challa, and Nakia had been there, you found that while it still hurt to lose your father for a second time, the burning of your funeral clothes brought some peace to you. Stoking the fire one last one and adding a fresh log to the top, you stood from your crouch and took a seat next to Ramonda as Shuri walked back from the water edge.

“In the River Tribe, we have a ritual to honor our connection to those that have passed on.” Ramonda spoke as Shuri took a seat on the other side of her. Her eyes watched the fire crackle and pop, embers floating into the sky before disappearing.

“There is a ritual for everything here. Somebody has died, you have to do the ritual. My neighbor hates me, oh just do ritual. I can’t find a boyfriend... don’t worry there’s a ritual for that.” Shuri snipped out with a roll of her eyes.

“Hush sister,” You told her. Shuri gave you a look before turning to Ramonda as if expecting her to say something.

“Listen to your sister, my child,” She said. Shuri’s eyebrows went up and her eyes rolled yet again, but she kept her mouth shut. “After your father died. I performed this ritual, with T’Challa and Y/N by my side, and Nakia.”

A sour expression appeared on Shuri’s face at the mention of Nakia, she was still very much sore about Nakia not attending T’Challa’s funeral. But Ramonda had seen the look on Shuri’s face.

“If rituals are pointless to you, why does it bother you that she wasn’t there that day? What is a funeral if not a ritual?” Your mother countered to Shuri, proving a point.

“Because that was my brothers’ day. And for some stupid reason rituals mattered to him. I don’t have time for this, Mother. I need to get back to my lab.” Shuri moved to stand up.

“Shuri sit down and listen,” You said sternly. “As hypocritical it is of me to demand this, I will say it anyways. You need to heal from T’Challa’s death, or at the very least start to let him go.”

“Like you are one to talk, Y/N, you have held onto the death of your biological parents and father, for how long?” Shuri sharply shot back. “And you say I’m the one who is holding on!? You spent an entire year in the middle of nowhere, alone, and you speak to me of letting go!?” She was almost shouting at you now, her emotions getting the better of her. “I will not—“

“I don’t want you to become me!” You cut her off with a crescendo of silence. Shuri’s eyes were glittering with unshed tears mixed with frustration. The silence stretched out, calls of elephants echoing. “I don’t want you to end up like me, Shuri.” You stated. “You don’t have to be consumed by your emotions, you don’t have to let them control your life.” Turning to Ramonda, you took a deep breath. “Do you have my funeral garments, mother? It’s time.”

Ramonda reached behind her and pulled out a stack of white fabric. Shuri stared at them.

“How did you get these?” Shuri asked as you were handed your funeral garment, still stained by the blood you had shed.

“What does it matter?” Ramonda echoed handing Shuri’s clothes over.

“These are my clothes. How do they figure into your ritual?” Shuri harshly questioned, her hackles rising.

“The burning of the funeral garments marks the end of the mourning period, Shuri,” You said before placing the clothes you held onto the fire. “It is time to let go.”

“And the beginning of a new relationship with our loved ones that have passed on.” Ramonda added, placing her own funeral clothes on the fire. You watched as the white and red turned black, disintegrating from the heat and flames.

“It’s not torment I feel. It’s rage.” Shuri uttered, her fingers digging into the funeral clothes she still held. “My brother, who saved me, saved my sister, saved Wakanda, saved the world. He showed kindness and grace, even to his enemies. And for what? For the love of his life to run off and never come back? For some illness to take him before he was old enough to grow gray hair? An illness. Not even an enemy in combat.”

It took everything you had to hold you tongue against what Shuri spoke of Nakia. She didn’t know, you told yourself, she didn’t know.

“And that would have been better?” Ramonda challenged. Shuri’s eyes flashed with fire.

“Yes! Because then I could take my revenge! I don’t want to sit with you and Y/N, and think of my brother, because I fear it won’t be clothes I will want to burn, it will be the world and everyone in it.” Shuri hissed out with anger and spite.

“And you think that will bring him back? That you will find peace once you have reduced civilization to ash and embers?” You asked, looking at your little sister in sadness. “Believe me, Shuri, I have wanted to reduce this world to rubble several times over for what it has taken from me, but you think I will be happy after that? Do you think that the ones I have lost will be returned to me after I have destroyed everything?”

“Then what do you suggest I do?” Shuri harshly bit out, her eyes flashing.

“If I knew, Shuri, do you think I would still be living by myself on that beach?” Shuri’s eyes finally softened and she sighed out. “Shuri, I don’t want you to follow the same path I have, because I fear that it isn’t one I can return from.”

“You are assuming that you have chosen a path that is one way, my daughter,” Ramonda spoke, reaching over to place a hand on your knee.“Shuri, there is something I have to tell you about your brother—“ She was cut off when the elephants in the distance let out spooked cries, rearing back before taking off.

“What in the ancestors,” You whispered out just before Ramonda grabbed the spear resting on the ground between you and her and started cautiously walking towards the river. “Mother?”

“What are you doing?” Shuri echoed as you and she grabbed your own spears and cautiously followed. The three of you stared out at the still water. Then a figure rose out of the water and you blanched. It was a man, and the further he rose out of the water, the more alert you became. Then he lifted out of the water and you saw what was keeping him afloat. Wings on his ankles.

“Mother I do not remember this being a part of the ritual.” You hissed as the man dropped into the shallows.

“It is not.” Ramonda returned. “Stop! Right there! Who are you?! And how did you get in here?! Speak trespasser!” He stopped and brushed his hair back, pushing water from his hair. For a brief moment you wondered why his figure seemed familiar, then you remembered the night two months past. You thought the shadow to be your imagination. It appears not.

“This place is amazing.” You were startled by his gentle voice, not expecting it. “The air is pristine. Not a trace of pollution. And the water…” He looked behind him at the calm water. “My mother told stories of a place like this. A protected land with people that never had to leave, never had to change who they were. What reason did you have, to reveal your secret to the world?”

“I am not a woman who enjoys repeating herself. Who are you?” Ramonda demanded. The man lifted his chin slightly, his head angled as he studied your mother, Shuri, and you. His eyes lingered on yours before looking back to Ramonda.

“I have many names. My people call me Ahau Ku’Kul’Kan… but my enemies call me Namor.” You sensed the change in his tone, realizing that he was issuing your mother a choice. Friend. Or Foe.

“What kind of name is Namor—“

“Shuri, hush,” You whispered, earning a side eye from your sister.

“Why are you here?” Ramonda then asked

“We have a problem. The American military detected Vibranium embedded beneath my nation’s domain. I was able to stop them from mining it,” A shiver went up your spine at his cold smile. “But I need Wakanda’s help to prevent it from happening again.”

“Vibranium exists only here, in Wakanda.”

“Mother, he’s covered in it.” Shuri whispered. You squinted at the intricate necklace wrapped around his neck. Then you swore beneath your breath when you realized that he spoke the truth. Wakanda was not the only place the element could be found.

“Your son exposed the power of vibranium to the world. In response other nations have begun scouring the planet for it. We do not wish to be exposed, but your choices have compromised us. It is only fair that you help resolve our dilemma.”

You felt the moment your mother reared back from his words.

“You don’t sneak into our country and tell me what is fair.”

“Mother, it would be best if we did not make enemies,” You softly spoke, your eyes flickering to her face. “Certainly not now given light of recent events.”

“Hush, my child,” You pressed your lips together firmly, knowing that it was in your best interest to remain silent as your mother bade you.

“I have more soldiers than this land has blades of grass.” His threat was subtle, but spoke like the crescendo of an orchestra. “But my only desire is that my people remain hidden from the world. I hope you can understand my urgency, because I would hate to come back under different circumstances.” He inhaled sharply before holding up the conch he held. Bending on one knee, he placed it on the sandy bank. “When you have the scientist, blow into this and place it in the ocean on the north beach.” Namor backed up, stepping into the water. “I’ll be there shortly afterwards.”

Staring at the conch, you chewed on your lip before straightening from your defensive position and lowering your spear. You stuck it into the soft ground and slowly approached, aware that Namor’s eyes watched you carefully.

“Y/N what are you doing!?” Ramonda hissed. “Do not approach—“

“If he intended to hurt us, or me,” You said, cutting her off and carefully picking up the conch. “He wouldn’t have bothered making himself known.” As you stared at the conch in your hand, admiring its beauty, Namor spoke one last time.

“For your own sake sake, don’t mention anything about me to anyone outside of Wakanda.” Namor warned, all softness leeching from his words and gaze. You glanced up at him, your grip on the conch tightening. His gaze turned back to yours and Namor gave you a crooked smile, bowing his head. “Princesa.”

You blinked at him and watched as he turned around and dove back into the water, disappearing into the night just as fast as he appeared.

“Y/N,” Ramonda said, her voice shaken but still strong. You turned to her. “How do you know him?”

“Mother, I think I’d remember meeting a man with wings on his ankles.” You softly answered before catching sight a giant yellow piece of machinery now sitting next to the campfire. You blanched. How the hell had it appeared so suddenly, without noise? Shuri and Ramonda turned to look at what you were staring at, and Shuri cursed.

“How did he do that?”

“We must convene the council.”

Date Published: 3/12/23

Last Edit: 4/2/23

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#namor x reader #namor of talokan #namor fanfiction #namor x y/n #namor #namor fic #namor smut #wakanda forever #k'ul'kulkan #marvel #black panther 2

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skzvivie · 11 months

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ᰍ̠ . . . skz-record

꩜ lyrics by ━━━ 비비 ꩜ composed by ━━━ 비비, 방찬 (3racha) ꩜ arranged by ━━━ 방찬 (3racha) ᰍ̠ release date! ━━━ february 14th, 2021

Ꞌꞌ meaning: "seasons" is a poignant and heartfelt song that captures the emotion of falling in love and experiencing all the ups and downs of a relationship.

the lyrics describe how love ebbs and flows just like the changing seasons, with moments of bliss and moments of sadness.

overall, "seasons" is a beautiful and introspective song that expresses love along with its complexity.

vivie's notes on the song! when i took the time to write the song i had one person in mind, han jisung imagined a scene inside a kdrama where they have feelings for the other person but think they will ruin their crush's life if they get together. it's exactly how i feel i feel very proud of my creation and i thank channie so much for helping me create her and for comforting me when i was crying when i was writing the lyrics.

Ꞌꞌ explaination: at this time, vivie started developing feelings for han but she didn't know what to do so she turned her feelings into a song. the end result being "seasons", a song filled with bittersweetness. she ironically released it on valentine's day, everyone expected it to be a love song, not a heart-wrenching ballad.

ᰍ̠ song claim! ━━━ seasons by wave to earth

ᰍ̠ . . . a/n ━━━ i love wave to earth. miss you by hyunjin is literally song of the century. i need to have that song shoved up my cranium it's just too good. listen to love me back by fromis_9 it literally changes lives (/jk only Jesus changes lives 🙏🙏🙏🙏✝️✝️✝️✝️)

✉️ . . . taglist! ━━━ @mynameisnotlaura @alixnsuperstxr send an ask to be added!

God loves you 🫶

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melancholitas · 6 months

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The phantom of the Polar Tang (also on AO3)

for @heart-pirates-week day 4, Ikkaku & night

It's a cozy, uneventful summer evening. Soft waves lap about the smooth yellow of cool steel; lulling the Polar Tang and its inhabitants into drowsiness after a languid day. Slow times like these, out in the open of the sheer endless blue of the ocean, will always be sacred opportunities. It takes quite some time to refill their air tanks, so what would be better than enjoy these times to the fullest? The Hearts are a cheerful bunch, after all. So while the air flows through the pipes, filling the metal core to the brim, the crew joins in, flooding their systems with a different type of fuel. Well, maybe not everyone. One might think nearly bathing in machine oil every day would do at least something for the skin, but it's actually quite the opposite. So Ikkaku, in dire need of some nurturing, decided to pamper herself a little. A well earned reward in between the chaos. This time around, she also got some company. With a content grin, she regards her work. Hakugan can clearly pull of some skincare! The smaller man really needs to take better care of his face, always wearing that signature mask of his. But after she's done with him, he'll surely radiate under that coverage. Ushering her companion out of the baths, Ikkaku retouches her own face and starts to head for the deck. Nothing beats some relaxing under the stars before bedtime, after all. But as soon as they make their way through the ladder system, a shrill shriek rips through the night. Nearly missing a step, she whips her head around, making Hakugan almost fall in the process. The rapid pulse makes their ears ring. "What in the world was that??!" she whispers. Hakugan only shrugs. "Beats me." Scanning their surroundings, neither of them can depict the source in the dim light. Straightening her back, Ikkaku continues on her way. Better not pay it any mind, stranger things happen on the Tang all the time. But as soon as they come across the main hatch, an ear-shattering wail sounds again.

"SHACHIII - - - - IT APPEARED AGAIN - - - - -"

Dumbfounded, the duo exchange a glance. What appeared?!!

"SHHH DON'T MOVE, BEPO!"

"NO HASTY MOVEMENTS! DON'T STARTLE THE GHOSTS!"

"Pengiiin, do you think they'll eat us??"

Ghosts?? Wait a minute. With their gel coated faces, looking down at her flowy white night gown and Hakugan's bathrobe, a small snicker escapes her lips. They do make a sight for sore eyes, indeed. Silently communicating, Ikkaku's eyes light up with a plan, her companion mirroring the mutual intent. Together, they sneak up upon the trio on silent heels, donning their best haunted impression they can muster while swallowing down their laughter.

"I can smell measly humans~"

"We've come to devour your sooouls~"

Biting down on their tongues, they're immediately rewarded with a reaction.

"KYAAAAA----"

"BEPO STAY WITH US"

With a thud, the polar bear falls to his knees, screaming his lungs out. Penguin and Shachi surely aren't proud of their own cry as they grip onto each other for dear life. Only as the two pranksters can't keep their joyous laughter in anymore, the inebriated men seem to catch on. Holding their racing hearts to regain their composure, they soon manage to breathlessly join in.

"Man, what the hell, it's just you two!"

"What's with you, scaring the living shit out of us like that!"

Bepo's tears ebb down as well.

"I for sure thought we were goners. I'm too young to die like that - - - "

Cackling, the woman just shakes her head. How endearing her crew mates can be, really! "Maybe that's your sign to join in on some nightly routines, guys! Otherwise the next ghastly faces you'll see is your own reflection in the mirror!" It's nights like this she's glad to have found such a lively home. Grateful to the core, all of them enjoy the rest of the night with playful banter. Engraving these memories into their hearts, true to their name.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9

#one piece #heart pirates #ikkaku one piece #Hakugan #Shachi #Penguin #Bepo #Polar Tang shenanigans #heart pirates week 2024 #Melan writes #It appears I've managed to coincidentally write exactly 666 words #So any mistakes I missed concerning the word count will now have to stay forever lmao

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demonoflight · 1 year

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So here’s something I was thinking about. The Bonus Track in Octotune starts with Pearl and Marina in the studio recording the rap part of Into the Light, and Pearl flubs her take (which really amuses Marina, it's very cute).

But here's the thing: this is very uncharacteristic of Pearl.

As per Marina in her Splatune 2 interview, Pearl usually does her raps in a single perfect take, sometimes two if necessary. Also per the same interview, the one time Marina remembers Pearl ever hesitating or getting nervous while recording is when they recorded the chorus for Ebb & Flow, their first ever song together - they needed a lot of takes for that one.

Marina speculates Pearl may have been worried about not singing properly. And yeah, for sure, Pearl has been a little less confident about her vocals vs her rap until rather recently so that tracks. But also, it feels like she wanted to make sure Off the Hook’s first single together was absolutely perfect. Because not only was their career hanging on this one track being successful, but also, Pearl admires and respects Marina so much, and Ebb & Flow is her baby, and Pearl wouldn’t have wanted to mishandle something so important to her new bandmate, she had to get it JUST RIGHT.

And I think Pearl flubbed that take for Into the Light for the same reason she needed so many takes when they did Ebb & Flow, because Into the Light is EXTRA IMPORTANT to them. Pearl and Marina wrote this song because of the events of Octo Expansion, for their new friend Eight, but also I feel as kind of as something between the two of them? What happened during Octo Expansion recontextualized their friendship, took down so many barriers and misconceptions between them and made them stronger together, and you can really hear that manifest in Into the Light. They both get so emotional after performing it live, and Pearl mentions it reminds her of when they first met, it's so special to them! So it makes sense she would take recording it even more seriously than usual!

Seriously, she flubs the RAP part!!! THE RAP PART!!! That's the part she never has any issues with EVER!!! And she flubs it!!! Because she's so nervous about it being perfect!!!

Into the Light is just so important you guys I'm cry

(also as a side note Marina getting all giggly after Pearl flubs her take while Pearl is all grumpy and annoyed about it is the cutest shit)

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #off the hook #pearl houzuki #marina ida #into the light #ebb and flow #music

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mania-sama · 7 months

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Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "mania-sama "?

Hi!! Thank you so much for sending me an ask!! I will answer the story behind my name first, and then I'll get into the fics!

mania.sama comes from a couple years back when I was making my first online persona account. I had my regular Instagram account with my real name, but I didn't feel comfortable with people I knew in real life knowing the content I engage with and want to post (fandom-related and gaming clips). At the time, a couple of my beloved friends had these Instagram accounts all starting with a mental disorder and ending with a Japanese honorific. Weird combo, I know, I don't know how the trend started, I don't ask questions around here. Anyway, we brainstormed and decided on the mania, as in the manic disorder, and sama, a Japanese honorific of high respect. I would change it since I'm well aware it's kinda cringe since I have absolutely no Japanese heritage whatsoever, but it's too iconic to change now. All of my online persona accounts have this name, and people have called me "Mania" for far too long on Ao3. I'd hate to switch it up on people. And besides, I think it's grown on me after all this time.

Now for the fic!! So, I'm going to be so, so for real right now. I only have three fics I have bookmarked publically on Ao3, and they are my only favorite fics. Three. This comes from the fact that I read mainly one-shots that I forget as soon as I read them. I don't really have the attention span nor want to read long-form works most of the time. So, I did a lot of digging to come up with the rest of the seven, but I want to list favorite three first because they are actually my favorite. They aren't ranked in any particular order, they are just above the rest of the seven (which are also in no particular order).

These following three fics are also the only fanfics to ever make me cry. I've come close to a few of them, but these, of all my years reading and writing fanfic, are the only three to manage to bring tears down my face thus far:

Come Morning Light by SharkbaitSekki -> Haikyuu | 354,105 words | 15 chapters -> Teen and Up | Completed | Locked Work -> Summary: All in life will come and go. People and places will ebb and flow. Fate's dealt cards can't be foreseen. Safety is obsolete. When a nuclear blast on the island of Japan destroys all of the families and dreams within its radius, all that is left in the aftermath is to rebuild something -anything- out of the debris. Back to back, heart to heart, it's a long way up for the kids who have seen their lives go down in flames. But once at the top, for those who have made it, there is nothing left to do but admire the view. In which all of the aspects of their future are uncertain, except for the fact that unity will always lead them home. -> Thoughts: This was the only fic I had as my favorite fic for a long time, and the only one of the three to have an objectively sad ending, though it's listed as ambiguous. There isn't a dead dove tag on here, but there should be because this fic is gruesome, horrific, and downright traumatizing. And you know what? It's amazing, every single 350k words of it. The way some of these characters died, the trauma they experienced, and the ways they didn't or did move forward. It's all so impactful, and each character has a special focus. Not a single one goes without a spotlight. It also says it has ships, but none of them are actually canon, just vaguely implied. I don't really know how to explain this, but everything they go through, all of the places they go to, and the events that occur because of the nuclear bomb itself (such as acid rain and food poisoning) are all so well done, original, and thought-out. A town where all crime is legal at night but you must remain perfectly civil in daytime (as well as not talk about said crimes committed the previous night), radio broadcasts, refugee camps, trafficking, and more. There are just so many stand-out concepts and scenes that will stick with me forever.

one hundred miles by No_one_you_know -> Dream SMP | 126,898 words | 3 work series -> Teen and Up | Completed* -> that's, like, a hundred miles | 60,444 words | 12 chapters | Completed -> he's my brother, i just raise him | 7,034 words | 1 chapter | Completed -> as long as i'm here | 59,420 words | 14 chapters | Completed -> Summary (using the first fic): Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar. The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him. Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade? in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade -> Thoughts: I KNOW. I know what you're thinking. Dream SMP? Really? Listen. It was a different time, lads, and I, for one, refuse to be ashamed of my history with Dream SMP. I read and wrote fics and enjoyed it. What gives? Anyway. I chose the entire series instead of one fic because all of these fics are so good, and I feel that if you read the first one, you should read the others. This is the ultimate series of "Healing is not linear." It's a work on the failures of society, of the justice system, how life can be repeatedly cruel over and over again. All of the doubling back, the mental fight, the complex relationships, morally gray actions, and the brilliant display of the way trauma can effect children, and the way that adults can get away with so much abuse. I think about how he walked a hundred miles only to wind back in the same place again. Obviously, it ends positively (relatively positively), but it takes just as long to get there. Secretely, though, adoption fics are a guilty pleasure of mine and you can't take that away from me. EXTREMELY well written. * the series says it's not completed, but it sure feels like it is. Very conclusive ending, I don't think the author intends on ever updating again, so I think the "Not Completed" status is simply a mistake on their part.

When I Awake by wildflowertea -> Bungou Stray Dogs | 235,960 words | 23 chapters -> Mature | Completed -> Summary: Dazai Osamu has been in a coma for exactly one year, seven months, and twenty-two days. But Death still refuses to take him. Trapped in the space between worlds, and unable to die, Dazai waits, killing what precious time he may have left and hoping—praying—that his family will pull the plug and move on. He doesn't expect someone to move into his old apartment instead. Nakahara Chuuya, two-time Grammy awards winner, and freshly unemployed pessimist, has never believed in fate—much less the supernatural. But the lively—if a bit annoying—ghost of his apartment's previous tenant, might just change everything. -> Thoughts: What isn't there to say about this? I have written many comments under this fic, so if you want to hear my full thoughts, they are all there in the last chapter. I also added another comment months later, and will probably add another one in the future. This fic single-handedly changed the romance genre for me, set the bar too high, and I can't tell whether I should love or hate it for that. I'd go as far as to say this fic isn't really about romance, either; it's been every kind of relationship there is under the sun. It's about death, it's about hope, it's about tragedy, addiction, failures, and family. It's everything. I love, love the idea of the soul separating itself from the body being used as a symbol of a person at the ultimate crossroads: Should I live, or should I die? And death giving that person a second chance to make their final decision. I love this fic. Everyone and their mom needs to read it because it's truly life changing. I cried three times reading this. THREE. Not a single word is wasted here.

Here are the rest of the seven. These are all fics I enjoyed immensely and love dearly:

Running on Air by eleventy7 -> Harry Potter | 74,880 words | 17 chapters ->Teen and Up | Completed -> Summary: Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects. -> Thoughts: Genuinely, this fic ALMOST made joined the other three in my favorites. The only reason it didn't is because it didn't leave the same impact that the others did. But the writing, the plot, the romance, the characterizations, are all amazing, and the fact that it could've been a fourth edition to my favorites without the additional impact should be a testament to how good everything else is. I love a good investigation fic where I have no idea what's going on, but eager to learn more. I love the way they handled Ginny and Harry's relationship, how they were both never really good for each other as lovers, but humanizing them both. Ginny isn't a villain in the way of the gay relationship (I hate that trope, as we all do). Harry was just as bad in their relationship. And there are just so many good quotes, and every time I'm in the car for too long, staring at the road, I think to myself, "What if I just kept driving? What if I didn't go where I needed to go, but instead left everything behind and kept going?" And I really think this fic is in part to blame for that. Phenomenal work.

Oyasumi by monozayn -> Identity V | 6,210 words | 1 chapter -> Mature | Completed -> Summary: Oyasumi, Oyasumi Close your eyes and you'll leave this dream. . . . Eli Clark was something. But at the end of the day, Eli Clark wasn’t Naib’s something. A short story about giving too little, too late -> Thoughts: I had a VISCERAL reaction to this fic when I read two and a half years ago. I think I can contribute most of my feelings to the fact that I myself wasn't in the best mental state at the time, so it just hurt more than it should've. I think if I were to read this today, it wouldn't make it onto this list at all, but because of the strong memories I have tied to it, it's keeping its place here. I do remember really liking the characterization of Naib, who, despite being the MC, is entirely blameless and often really comes off as creepy, especially in the beginning. It was really interesting.

Food for the Heart by SharkbaitSekki -> Haikyuu | 28,486 words | 1 chapter -> Teen and Up | Completed | Locked Work ->Summary: Enter Oikawa Tooru, the middle-class citizen who has everything he needs, but who does not eat. Enter Iwaizumi Hajime, the homeless young man who barely scrapes enough to eat every single day. One chance encounter is all they need to start turning things around. That is, if they actually do want to bring change to their comfortable, destructive routines. -> Thoughts: If I'm gonna be honest, this fic is kinda like a fever dream to me. It's actually the only fic on this list that I've read twice, that being I really don't reread or rewatch media in general outside of gently skimming or rewatching certain episodes/scenes. I always lose this fic, and it came as a surprise to me to see that it was written by the same person that wrote Come Morning Light because I did NOT know this until I found it again for this fic. Thrice I have found this fic and thrice did it escape my attention. Now about the actual fic and not the mythical legend that it truly is, it's just such an interesting take on the characters. Less so that it's a perfect characterization but a wonderful insight to homelessness and privilege, into complex relationships and eating disorders. It shows that all people are different, they can be selfish when trying not to be, that life sometimes just really rocks our shit. I've struggled in on and off periods with eating myself, so this fic really drives home a nail into face that it might not for other people.

the path to paradise by roadtripwithlucifer -> Bungou Stray Dogs | (currently) 73,250 words | (currently) 11 chapters -> Explicit | Work in Progress -> Summary:

To think that there’s a gifted in this world who can transport others to a ‘Hell.’ Not even a particularly hellish hell. For all Akutagawa had experienced in his life, this is obnoxiously tame. Pleasant, even, if he was to ignore the centaurs hunting him for sport and the fact that he’s kneeling in an open grave.Still - if Akutagawa was given such an ability, he’d have no shortage of significantly more creative punishments for creatures as loathsome as himself.

Akutagawa goes to Hell. Atsushi follows. Neither return the same. -> Thoughts: This is one that is being updated quite regularly, so I have complete faith it will be saw through to the end (as the author has seen their other longfics to the end, too). This has some of the best BSD characterizations I've ever seen, especially Akutagawa. This fic scratches a very specific itch, since it's literally a Dante's Inferno AU, and where else are you gonna find one? One that's actually well-written, no less? It satisfies my constant hunger for tragic, painful things to happen to my favorite characters without ending poorly. They find comfort in each other. I love that. I love this fic. I can't wait to see how it ends. I like the use of their Dante and Virgil as "OC's", too. I don't mind OC's in most fics, but this is one the first to truly make me like their OC's. The author also puts in a whole lot of research, and they use this cool system of endnotes (that I WILL be stealing for any future long-form projects) to express their research. I just love reading their thoughts, and you can clearly see how much passion there is here.

Tommyinnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii -> Dream SMP | 79,922 words | 30 chapters -> Teen and Up | Completed -> Summary: “I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.” Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen? “Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.” or, in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing. or or, a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down. -> Thoughts: I read this fic while it was coming out. I was also in therapy, so imagine my surprise and utter devastation when those chapters started coming out (if you know, you know), because I was, indeed, reading it to make myself feel better and not be sad all the time. I haven't read it in a hot minute, so I'm not sure if the humor would match up to mine today of if it would just be really cringe but I remember always finding it very funny. If it had just been funny and random, it may not have made it on here, but the overarching plot makes it a work of art. I won't spoil, because I do think you should read it, but it's a very good plot twist that I didn't see coming because I hadn't read any of the other works. Everything in that fic has a meaning, and everything is beautiful, and everything hurts. The concept itself is something that I think about often, too, even before I'd read it. Great execution.

Spiderwebs and Secrets by fi_niamh -> Genshin Impact | (currently) 89,103 words | (currently) 14 chapters -> Teen and Up | Work in Progress -> Summary:

Albedo, usually one for blunt and quick actions, was struggling to determine how he should continue. On one hand, marking the death as suicide, as it very much appeared to be, would immediately close the case and give the bereaved family some much needed closure. But could Albedo really do that when so many things didn't line up? Sitting back in his chair Albedo let out a deep breath. He scanned down the page reading the provided boxes. ... He was really going to do this wasn't he? Picking up quill with a steady hand, Albedo marked the fourth and final box with a neat cross mark. Death under suspicious circumstances. Albedo stood, waiting for the ink to dry before gently picking the piece of paper up. Albedo had a new assignment. As head of the Knights of Favonius Investigation Unit, Albedo was not going to let the cause of Diluc Ragnvindr's death go unknown.

When Diluc is reported dead as what appears to be a suicide, Jean struggles to keep it together, Kaeya is left in shambles, and Albedo begins to uncover the web of secrets and lies that Diluc left behind. -> Thoughts: While this fic hasn't been updated in a long time (and admittedly I haven't even caught up to the latest chapters, but that's not because the updates were bad, I just have this mental block that occurs with every multi-chaptered fic I read that I always have a really hard time breaking through). Anyway, this fic has the best characterization I have ever seen of any of the title characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo, and Jean. It hurts so bad and so good, and I love me a well-written investigation fic that keeps me on my toes. So, so good. Did I mention that this hurts? Because it hurts. Hurts like a knife digging into your stomach and being twisted, but you keep pushing it in because the pain is addicting.

Butterflies and Storms by Chalily -> Bungou Stray Dogs | 36,524 words | 14 chapters -> Teen and Up | Completed -> Summary: “That girl in the back! She’s getting away!” Chuuya whipped around to see that his men were right — one of their assailants was an ability user, and she was using her power to escape. Shit. Mori had been painfully clear when he’d assigned this mission. He expected no survivors. Chuuya dropped his ability’s hold on the six or seven people around him, then kicked off of a nearby wall to propel himself at the girl. She was slowly dissipating into light, vanishing upwards into the ceiling, but before the edge of her coat could vanish Chuuya shot by like a dark bullet, reached out, and just barely grabbed it. // Chuuya gets transported to the past! Watch him struggle to figure out what the hell’s happening, then enlist the help of a young Oda to get back. But with the past altered, will he return to the same future he left behind? -> Thoughts: This fic has the perfect blend of good plot, characterization, and humor. Mainly the humor part, because it's always so effortless and it astounds me how easily they were able to write it. It's so natural, and I only wish I was half as funny as they are. This fic also reminds a lot of BEAST, and I am under the personal opinion that BEAST is better than the actual manga. Because it is and I'm correct. The OC they used for this and her ability is actually a book I'd read before, so that was also an added bonus for me. Very, very enjoyable fic and criminally underrated.

Honorable Mention: I KNOW you said only 10, but I have to mention this one fic that I can't for the love of me find, but I think about nearly every time I'm writing. It's a Dream SMP one-shot. If I remember correctly, it was somewhere between 1-3k words, and it was an absolutely masterpiece. I would've booted one of the fics I have listed to fit this one, but alas, I cannot find the fic. It's about the SBI, but all of the brothers get drafted to World War I or II, I can't remember, leaving Phil alone in their shared house. It's so. Good. Whenever I write, I try to emulate the emotion that author put into their fic, the way they were able to convey the lived-in, homely feel of the family as each one of them were ripped away, as they died. They described things in such a simplistic manner, and instead of focusing on faces or words, they talked about how the knob to the cabinet door was broken, the scratch marks on the table, the squeaky tiles on the floor. Amazing. I wish I could find it again.

Again, thank you so much for asking me!!!

#anon ask #fanfictions #favorite fanfics #fanfic #fanfics #haikyuu #bungou stray dogs #roadtripwithlucifer i know youre there #identity v #dream smp #genshin impact #harry potter #running on air #answered asks #ao3 #ao3 fanfics #ao3 fanfic

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greyaugustuspoetry · 1 year

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With the anniversary of my young friends death I’d like to talk about grief.

No one ever talks about the fact that grief doesn’t go away no matter how many years have passed. It is constant and like a wave, everchanging and randomly crashing into you at the most inconvenient of moments. Grief hurts, and it’s not pretty. You might find yourself crying and not being able to stop, screaming in your car hoping that someone, anyone, will hear you and come to your aid. You might get angry, either at yourself for being the one that lived or at god for making them die. And that anger is all consuming, just like the wave of grief it will take over your life. You might punch a wall, yell at someone for no reason, hurt someone. You will some days find yourself staring at the ceiling and questioning why that fan is even spinning. You will find yourself staring at the walls, confused on even where to start your day because you’re so overwhelmed with pain that moving a single inch feels like hell. And I’m telling you all this because you need to know that this fucking sucks, and to know it sucks at the beginning will make it better in the end. Just know one thing, it’s okay to grieve, to be angry, to scream, to cry, to hit things, to spit angry words. It’s all okay. Because someone you loved just died, and that fucking sucks. And you know what sucks more? As time goes on your memories of them will fade, just like their bodies did when they got out in the ground or burned. One day you will want to look back at something as simple as a smile and you just can’t. And it’s heartbreaking. Life will keep moving, your brain will keep aging, but they stay frozen. They always stay the way that you left them and it feels awful to realize that. Sometimes you’ll stay frozen too, you won’t want to keep going because it feels like you’re leaving them but trust me darling you’re not. You’re just growing up, something they deserved to do yes, but you deserve it too despite death. So keep moving, cry it out, feel the pain as it ebbs and flows, because guess what? That’s how you know the you’re ALIVE. And it is okay to be alive, no matter how much you regret being the one who is living you must come to accept that you just are, and that it’s okay. So with that I leave you this, you will be okay. I promise you will be okay.

To my friend Elijah, I will cry for you today, like I do every year. And I will have to be okay with that, just like I have to be okay with the fact that you’re gone. I love you forever, stay cool in the stars buddy.

#tw grief #bad grief #grief poem #griefsucks #dealing with grief #stages of grief #griefandloss #grief #coping with grief #grief/mourning #griefrecovery #griefjourney

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tenderrevelations · 6 months

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The Unwavering Allowing of Transition

“You are you and the work is the work” Both concepts exist in connection with one another.

A place like New York where inspiration could cross your path just by walking down the street. Yet we become conflicted by trying to adhere to the norms of this mindless working society. “Go to work. Get shit done. HUSTLE. HUSTLE. HUSTLE.”

Knowing your creative spirit is what moves you everyday, how frustrating it can be to not be able to pinpoint where it’s resting its head. How badly we want to lock ourselves in a sunlit room, paint, instruments and countless pages of paper and pens to let the imagination actually run.

We work the muscles of the mind. We stretch the muscles of the spirit. I find myself harmonizing in my head, wishing someone to join me with their imaginary trumpet or take it away with their guitar solo. Photo books are particularly grounding lately; visual representation of life embodying art in its truest form. Days where I’d capture my friends in their hardest moments, crying in their hands from a love lost, all on a disposable camera; those were the moments where I felt my art to be the most validating. Seeing true pain, true emotion on film and having that memory in my hands. The one truth that has been the hardest to grasp lately is the knowing that nothing stays stagnant. Everything changes and shifts even when you don’t want it too. I come back to old stomping grounds to find firm sensations of familiarity and land in a place that feels foreign to the naked eye. Places that were once so dear to me, stripped away of its original charm and grief overcomes me like the harsh power of a NYC fire hydrant. The stripping away of authentic NYC culture feels like a metaphor for understanding the ebb and flow of transition. Wether we like it or not, we are here and we are changing. One day we are here. Next day we are not. “The person who starts the work, won’t be the same person who comes back the next day to finish the work.” The purpose of all of this, is profound connection. We all desire to become closer to each other in one way or another. Be it collaboration or meaningful conversation, we want to know that we are not doing this alone. Sometimes we force connection in hopes that it sticks, yet the rule of inevitable change reminds us that force only brings more friction. So where does that lead us? Allowing. Some call it the path of least resistance, others call it radical acceptance. Either way you spin it, you let go, or be dragged. It almost feels like the answer to success is in some sort of literal equation.

Allowing + Risk taking x consistency = Ultimate Contentment.

Constantly having to break through old familiar patterns to embrace the unknown can feel exhausting. Perhaps photography is where we can find the middle ground. Being able to capturing what you know and cherish and still allowing it to change in the future knowing that it lives in your mind and on your camera. A heartwarming transition into a new beginning. I recall those moments where I’ve captured strangers. A small conversation that sometimes led to full blown friendships and other epiphanies that only could’ve happened by releasing the grasp of fear.

The power of a capturing lens. Acknowledging that your view is a valid one is the beginning stage of self

acceptance. The beginning stage of the birth of a confidence that cannot be taken away. Regardless of criticism, one stands firm in their point of view, especially when it’s a view born out of creativity. Yet there are those moments where the view starts changing. The shock of the unfamiliar begins to make us glitch in such an extreme way and we need time to readapt to the new norm. Radical acceptance comes out and stands in front of us, forcing us to acknowledge what is there. It’s only when we say “I see you” that Radical acceptance can step aside and let us through.

Why do we unconsciously force the hand of others for our own comfort? We cultivate these connections for mutual support and somehow find ourselves gripping onto ideas that do not apply. Our perceptions sometimes do not align with others, yet somehow we ignore our intuition and insist on clashing in hopes we win some sort of secret friendship game. The Ego is the only one that understands the rules. I’m here to learn from others while also expressing and validating my own work. I’m finally accepting that my perception of life isn’t for everyone and I have to learn how to be okay with not being everyones cup of tea. I know that it may feel a bit isolating at times and nobody ever wants to force a relationship, however I’m learning to listen with intention and remember that the melting pot that is community has its own purpose. To create, heal, destroy, learn, teach, love, bring joy to, shape etc. Everyone has a place in the pot.

The allowing. The art of letting go and letting God. That oceanic exhale that lifts that weight off your shoulder.

#psychology #radical acceptance #literature

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south-of-heaven · 1 year

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Hello, it’s me again ❤️ wondering if I can request a scenario with UFC!4 horsewomen/reader or BRE/reader where the reader is home alone at her apartment one night while her partners are at a work event. It’s raining heavily and reader notices water starting to come through the ceiling. She can’t get a hold of maintenance so she calls her partners in an absolute panic and they rush home to comfort her/help her through the mess? This exact thing happened to me this past winter (minus of course having some incredible WWE superstars to lean on for support) and I cannot tell you how much I needed a shoulder to cry on, a tight hug, and extra hands to help me sort through the mess. A forehead kiss from Shayna or Jess wouldn’t have hurt either.

Thank you for hearing me out on this and no worries if this one isn’t for you!

Leak || The Four Horsewomen (UFC) x Reader

Summary: When a rainstorm hits and water starts leaking through the roof you panic.

The sound of rain pounding against the windows fills the house, a soothing rhythm that turns into a frantic symphony as you notice water beginning to leak through the ceiling. Panic grips you as you realize the extent of the situation – the heavy rain has caused leaks to spring up in multiple spots around the house. Each drop of water that falls feels like a mini disaster, and you're left scrambling to find buckets, towels, and anything else to contain the growing mess.

You move from room to room, desperately trying to stem the flow, but it's like a losing battle. Every time you cover one leak, another one seems to burst forth. Your heart races, your mind racing even faster as you feel overwhelmed by the situation.

With your partners away at a work event, you're alone in facing this sudden crisis. But as the rain intensifies and the leaks seem to multiply, you know you can't handle it on your own any longer. You take a deep breath and grab your phone, dialing Shayna's number with trembling fingers.

"Shayna," you begin when she answers, your voice laced with stress. "I need help. There's water leaking through the roof, and I can't get it to stop."

There's a pause on the other end of the line before Shayna's calm voice comes through. "I'm on my way. Just hang tight."

It feels like hours pass, but soon the front door opens, and the familiar faces of your partners greet you. Their concerned expressions reflect your own anxiety, but their presence alone brings a sense of relief.

Shayna, always the resourceful one, assesses the situation quickly. She gathers tools and materials while Jess wraps an arm around you, sensing your frazzled state. You lean into her touch, the comfort of her presence a balm to your racing heart.

Ronda and Marina join in, working with Shayna to address the leaks, their combined efforts slowly starting to make a difference. Despite the chaos of the situation, their teamwork and determination shine through.

As the leaks are patched up one by one, your stress begins to ebb, replaced by gratitude for the strength of your partnership. Jessamyn remains by your side, offering a steady anchor as emotions threaten to overwhelm you. She holds you close, her embrace a source of comfort in the midst of the storm – both literal and metaphorical.

And then, just as the rain outside begins to subside, Shayna's voice rings out. "Alright, I think we've got it."

You look around, the once-dripping rooms now feeling a little safer, a little more secure. The teamwork and care of your partners have prevailed once again.

As you all gather in the living room, exhaustion and relief mix with a renewed sense of closeness. The leaks may have been a challenge, but they've also brought you all together, reminding you of the strength of your bond. Jessamyn pulls you in closer, hugging you tight and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a silent reassurance that you're not alone in weathering life's storms – both the literal and the emotional ones.

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uravityxo · 3 months

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closed starter for @deathonate ( rest of starter below cut , i wrote a lot ( for me at least ) ! )

The future is uncertain. That's one thing that Ochako recently came to terms with. The muggy water that fogged her vision of a 'perfect future' left her mind with subtle doubt.. yet she remained strong- remained positive. Strength was what her classmates needed. Thus, she had to remain strong. She was the 'bubbly' one that always 'did her best'. Yet, with All-Mights retirement and Bakugou's return from being kidnapped... things were different. Everyone now lived together within dorms located on school site. They were around each other 24/7... the mask she had perfectly crafted after everything started to slowly slip. How much longer could she hold it up for?

However.. difference and change is needed for time to flow with ease, fate twisting expectations- as fate always has plans. Fate always finds a way.

Maybe fate is what lead to all of this, maybe thats why Ochako, who was laid on the sofa of the common room (with tears streaming down her face), overheard her friends Deku and Bakugou get scolded for some fight by her teacher. An internal battle started which caused conflict in her mind as she heard the broken voices from both of them. Her mind, the logical part of her, weeped for Deku- with a want to enter his room and sooth him. However.. her heart called for Bakugou, the one she... felt confused about- the one who was slowly stealing her heart piece by piece. Conflicted and confused, her mind battled between her head and her heart. Her friend or.. him.

The beating of her heart distracted her from her thoughts, the heavy thumping echoed throughout her body as her heartrate increased. Was this a sign? At this point- she wasn't sure whether it was a sign or delusion. Either way, she suddenly found herself snapped out of a trance as she stood outside someones door. Whose door? She didn't know. She hadn't even realised she had moved from her spot on the sofa during her minds internal debate... her body had just moved on its own.

It didn't take much to hear the sobs could from beyond the door.. were they sobs of sadness? Anger? Frustration? Or.. or maybe all of the above? Either way, she couldn't recognise these cries. Which felt unusual because she knew she could recognise her best friends cries from anywhere. Were the cries Bakugou's? What happened?

With a raised fist, Ochako quickly wiped her face dry and attempeted to surpress her tears before she knocked softly on the door. "Uhm... it's.. me? Uraraka. I... are you okay?" Her voice wavered, words caught in the back of her throat as the tears she had tried to surpress made their way back up. "I'm.. I'm coming in."

With an outreached hand she grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. Completely unprepared for whatever she'd see beyond the door. Yet she didn't care. All she cared for was being there for whoever was crying for help. She didn't care if it meant she had to lock away her own emotions behind her own door for just that bit longer.

However... that locked door that she used to hide away her emotions had holes in it. Holes that has been violently punched through by the events of the past. Holes that very clearly show exactly how she feels. The door of her emotions might as well have been unlocked, the layer of defense rendered useless by the ebb and flow of fate.

"Please don't lock me out." Ochako cried out as she hesitated to open the door, frozen in spot- where seconds felt like years. Before she pushed it open. "I want.. I need to help you!"

#. uraraka ; school life #deathonate #;; I WROTE SO MUCH !!#;; this is a good way to return ohoho #;; with some anGST #;; and some tears #;; this has REIGNITED THE SPARK TO WRITE #;; ilysm tho btw mwah mwah #;; hope this is okay #;; sorry its so long..#;; i had so much to say lmaojfhufhsd #;; spent the past hour hour and 20 mins working on this omg #;; i hope i didnt miss any mistakes or anything

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loneberry · 2 years

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panta rhei

I did start to tear up, in the sound bath, on the full moon. I had seen the great wave slowly folding over everyone I love, melting their flesh as it does when time becomes an acidic solution that dissolves the skin. The water keeps swelling mindlessly as it strips my loved ones of everything but the bones. With the backwash the heaving liquid withdraws its cold malice. It was the same wave that Bernard proudly pitched himself against at the end of Woolf’s The Waves. The vision faded and my attention turned quickly to a sensation of pain radiating from my lower back. It was not a kundalini bolt of energy shooting up through my core. No. It was simply my agitated sciatica.

Again, I see the wave of time, as I am walking by the sea at sunset, thoughts drifting from the light limned pile of beached seaweed, the coronation of the kelp, I think, what a strange coiled sentience. Again, the Pacific sand crabs perform their synchronized dance with the ebb and flow of the sea, it is the inconspicuous mysticism of the swash zone, that moving border between land and water. A seagull plucks a sand crab and swallows it. A dog runs into the sunset. Nearby a Rastafarian is waking from a nap, with both hands he holds his guitar in front of him as he slowly rises. Kites of all kinds are flying high in the sky: two birds, a jellyfish, and a shark. The woman emerging from the sea appears mythic, like a goddess that parts the spume while a low mist drifts across the surface of the water. Another dips her feet in the water, turns back, her white dress blowing in the wind. I smile to myself as I catch another trying to photograph the antennae of the sand crabs and the patterned dance of light refracted by the ripples. How happy everyone looks, except a little girl with a sourpuss face, but upon closer scrutiny, that sulky mood may be partly feigned, for she seems to be playing a game with herself, running up to the water, then shrieking when it catches her feet. Two children are dragging boogie boards behind them. How many potent memories are being formed in the minds of children at precisely this second? Will they dream, decades from now, of that soft golden sun over Venice Beach, the buckets of sand and salty hair?

Closeup of the sand crab feelers

All the faces, how beautiful they look to me. Then in my mind God is turning the dial of time, all the people on the beach fade into non-being, there’s just the constancy of the sea, when all of us are gone, and we will be gone, one day, the waves will keep rolling in, until they don’t. For a second, we’ve all died, and I’m an angel floating above it all. I cry thinking about that day, when all who are on the beach are dead. But we were here. On this gentle day, this day that will always have been, we lived this sun to the last drop, then turned, and trundled toward the night.

The mood of the sea changes at twilight. The water seems somehow heavier. I remember the dream from this morning, all being flowing toward the sea, here we will all end, in the place that does not end. I woke with my mind saturated with the infinity of the sea. As I’m walking with my feet in the water, I remember, not long after C’s suicide, visiting her mother in Ashfield, MA. The mother was drunk and beset with grief. Between stories of her dead child, the tears would come on in waves. She told me a story about how, when C was 6 or so, they were flying together on an airplane. C looked out the window, at the river far below, and said “all flows toward the ocean.” In that moment her mother knew she had a child of staggering intelligence. Did C know that little bits of her, too, would flow from the French King Bridge, down the Connecticut River, to the Long Island Sound estuary, where her dematerialized being would meet the Atlantic Ocean?

A quote from Paul Bowles’s Sheltering Sky, a book I read over a decade ago, comes on my headphones. It's a sound clip from the Bertolucci film adaptation, which appears at the beginning of the Ryuichi Sakamoto song "fullmoon."

“Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, an afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four, five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps 20. And yet it all seems limitless.” ― Paul Bowles

I remember my strange dreams of the moon, which keep recurring lately: the orange harvest moon, the hyperreal moon, the moon whose surface radiates a mystery hidden in its craters, the obscure chiaroscuro of the dream, its nooks and crannies. The moon grows to eclipse the sun, then shrinks suddenly—I had the feeling I had to catch everything before it disappeared. The moon winks. Will other’s believe I saw the moon of expanded dimensions? It may be an optical illusion, some mysterious alignment of Earth, moon, and sun. It may be a simulation of the moon, lasers from Disney World that paint the night sky. Now the moon is a xeroxed picture of a moon, cut out and pasted on a black canvas. I’m unsettled by the universe’s sudden disorder, the wild instability of the cosmos, which mocks me like a shapeshifting trickster who appears on a peyote trip, mischievously guiding me through the kaleidoscopic confusion.

How many times will you watch the moon flicker in a dream?

#oceanic feeling #venice beach #water #memory #time #death #literature #Virginia woolf #paul bowles #dream #dreams

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