#I didn’t do too much with sally bc I don’t think I’ll be writing too much for her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fekst-fucker · 4 years ago

Note

Not me sending a bunch a asks for the girls cuz no one really does them. But. Headcannons for them? Can be about anything!

I hope you don’t mind that I saved Judge Angel and Nurse Ann for this post, I’ve never written for them so I wanted to flesh out their characters :)

Jane the Killer

- Mom friend of the group

- In like, a detached, cool biker mom way

- She likes coffee and tea equally! She’s just not a huge fan of anything super sweet, she’d prefer to have a piece of cake instead of a sugary drink

- She speaks a little French, I think. She probably learned it in high school and is still studying it casually

- She and Nina don’t get along too well but she’s still very protective and watchful over her regardless

- I know I’ve mentioned this before but she ALWAYS has shit-talking sessions with Tim and sometimes EJ. They have a lot of steam to blow off

- Her Vespa is orange :)

- She hates supernatural horror, but is a big fan of suspense or murder films, if they’re done tactfully and not too gory. She sees enough blood in her line of work

- The one exception is the movie The Autopsy of Jane Doe. She really sympathizes with the girl in it

Clockwork

- Does this woman every brush her hair

- Yes but it sticks out in every possible angle, she cuts it herself and tried to give it “layers” but it literally looks like choppy anime hair

- She does wear an eyepatch when she goes out, and she doesn’t just discretely shy away from people staring at it, she’s ready to pick a fucking fight

- Drinks black coffee with a ton of simple syrup. Iced. She’s gay

- She dreams of having a steampunk aesthetic but it’s way too impractical. She tries to brush it off as “nah that was just a stupid middle school dream”

- She doesn’t speak any other languages, though she has picked up some ASL from Brian. EJ kinda scares her so she doesn’t interact with him much but since she started trying to sign to him their friendship has really blossomed

- Her shoes cycle between beat up tennis shoes and clunky Wolverine work boots. There’s no inbetween

Judge Angel

- Never talks to anybody. Keeps her head down and lips sealed. It’s not a huge loss, no one’s exactly itching to talk to her, either

- And the hood she wears is always covering her eyes, nobody has ever seen them. They’re kind of afraid of what would happen if they did

- She doesn’t really live at Slender mansion. She has a very secluded cabin a couple miles off, and the interior is very well decorated and surprisingly warm. Lots of those white tiny minimalist deer statues

- She always carries her sword in a hilt on her hip, it’s mostly for show. She’s powerful enough to not need to use it against any of the other creeps

- A nasty habit of hers is scaring the demons at the mansion. It’s 100% intentional and it’s a very bitchy thing to do

- EJ, Dark, Kageko, and even Zalgo hate her

- She doesn’t really have any hobbies besides fighting and tearing shit up. Maybe reading criminal justice novels in her little cabin

- She respects three people at the mansion. Slender, Tim, and, for some reason, Ben

- She’s a little bit of a pick me girl tbh

Nurse Ann

- I know she’s supposed to be cruel and demented and sadistic but that’s tired. What’s wired is that was a temporary state that demons and the undead get sent into, for a couple months max, and now she’s back to her pretty calm, timid self

- Maybe a little less timid now that she kills people, but she’s still very reserved, soft-spoken, and sweet

- She’s best friends with EJ. Quiet? Medical students? Undead? Oh babey

- Don’t get me wrong, she was a couple years older than he was when they both died, so she thinks of him more as a student or peer

- She loves to read. Anything and everything. Romance and typical textbooks are her favorites, she loves to learn

- Prefers just a cup of tea. She has a nice collection of teacups and saucers in her room

- She does speak a little bit of Spanish, she learned it to better communicate with her patients. She’s still kicking herself for never learning Mandarin or Punjabi, but it’s never too late to start!

Nina the Killer

- Idk why but I’ve always thought of Nina as Hispanic

- So she can speak Spanish, and I think she probably speaks a Dominican or another very quick dialect when she does

- She’s not very good at cooking, and it really upsets her, because she does miss her traditional meals from home

- So, even though she pisses Tim off, they team up and she tells him how to make stuff like tamales, tacos, sopa, maybe empanadas, plantains, stuff like that

- She’s an incredibly picky eater, actually. Tim is secretly honored that she eats his food

- Queen of scene! She has NEVER given up her scene aesthetic, being bullied never even phased her

- When she puts lipstick or anything on, she puts it all the way up the slits in her cheeks lmfao

- She’s tried the e-girl aesthetic a couple times, it doesn’t go nearly as hard as scene so she kinda gave it up

- She’s awful at gaming but still loves it, she plays with Ben and Jeff and even though they obliterate her she has a great time

- She’s the one that gets the snacks and refreshments, during gaming and during movie night

- She goes out into public without any like disguise on. People assume the silts are just SFX or a hardcore part of her aesthetic

- She is NOT as obsessed with Jeff now! She’s a little more grown, plus there’s wayyyy hotter people at the mansion

Honorable mention for Sally:

- Likes choccy milk :)

- Will ONLY be babysat by EJ or Slender. Everyone else is very upset about this

- She watches Sesame Street in the living room and everyone just kinda… watches with her

- She’s very glad everybody is participating with her, she may be a ghost child but she still needs enrichment!!

- Loves to help bread stuff whenever Tim deep fries food, he nearly has a heart attack letting such a small child near boiling oil but he’s responsible

- She doesn’t like soda because it hurts to drink

- Doesn’t need to be tucked into bed or be read a bedtime story but she does need a lil nightlight

- Usually ends up scampering off to spend the night in someone else’s bed if the power is off

- She and Nina are buddies :)

- She and Ben are also buddies, he lets her play video games with him with the controller plugged in cause he’s not a meanie like Jeff

#I didn’t do too much with sally bc I don’t think I’ll be writing too much for her #aside from interactions with the older creeps #she’s such a cutie though 🥺🥺#Jane the killer #clockwork #nina the killer #judge angel #nurse Ann #sally williams #is her name I think???#creepypasta headcanons

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salsdemise · 3 years ago

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Can I request a Sally face x reader fic? Possibly a confession and first kiss an da party or something like that, thank you!

Hey anon, sorry if this is bad, I'm assuming you meant sal, and if not just lmk and I'll re-write this for another character if you want.

Warnings: Underage drinking, underaged smoking, parties, y/n used in place of your name, really awkward with the confession part? idk how to write those

word count: 1479

other: gender neutral terms used, sal's speech is in blue bc sometimes its unclear whos talking bc i didn't know what to put between the words spoken lol playlist listened to while writing: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5SMv6Go27KIcbfL07wkQ4m

This party wasn’t where you wanted to be right now. Hell, you’d rather be at school, getting pushed around by the kids in the hall right now. Anywhere was better than this loud, flashy,party filled with the smell of cigs, weed, alcohol and sex wafting off of every teen you passed.

Why you had come to this party in the first place had slipped your mind, as now you were more focused on not getting backed into a corner with a potted plant by a group of your peers. Maybe it was because your friend Larry wouldn’t shut up about how fun it was going to be, maybe it was because you would have felt bad saying no, or maybe it was because you certainly weren’t going to pass up on an opportunity to potentially hang out with Sal Fisher, your long time crush and close friend.

Holding your now empty red cup, you navigated your way through the crowd of drunken and dancing teens, most who were nice and giggly as you passed, slurring apologies at you if they bumped you.

While you weren’t all sober yourself, you had enough remaining cognitive ability to form full thoughts, and the only one on your mind was finding one of two people; Sal or Larry. You had no doubt Larry was off smoking with gods know who, so that left one option, and if your brain wasn’t mistaking you, you had seen the electric-bluenette near the door to the backyard in the kitchen not too long ago. So that’s where you set your sights.

When you arrived at the kitchen, you were happy to know that you were indeed correct on where you had last seen Sal, just outside on the patio, sitting hunched over a cup, the bottom straps of his prosthetic undone and dangling. Murmuring a few ‘excuse me’s at the teens you passed on the way, you made your way out to the back, opening and exiting the door and catching the bluenette’s attention. Seating yourself next to him, you said nothing, not sure of what to say.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show. Lar said you were coming, but I thought he was bluffing again,” Sal spoke, sipping on his drink.

You laughed at this, “yea, no, he actually convinced me to come. Not sure how, but he did. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see you here either. You always talk about how much you hate parties, especially ones that have inebriating drinks,” you set your cup down next to you, and a small breeze knocked it over as soon as your hand left it.

“I don’t, hate em. Managed to get someone to get me something non-alcoholic, though. What have you had to drink?” He motioned to your, now rolling, red cup to emphasize.

“Oh, nothing too strong. They had a punch bowl in there so I took some of that,” thinking back to it as you spoke, it was odd the hosts of this party put a punch bowl out at a party with no need for it. However, you and Sal both seemingly shrugged it off and continued talking.

Conversation between the two of you had always come so naturally, switching between topics and tones, talking about people, your home state, his home state, and the likes.

“Man, I cannot believe he did that! It was like, super awkward between us for a week,“ you laughed, finishing a story about how Larry had tried to ask you out when high. Luckily the guy wasn’t too upset and took no for an answer.

“Hey, y/n, about asking people out...have you ever done it?” Sal questioned, messing with his sweater sleeves now that his drink was gone and his cup had also flown off.

“Oh, uh, not like, here at Nockfell, but in the past I asked a guy in my grade to go to a valentine’s day dance with me. Why?” you responded, tilting your head at him.

“I want to ask this person out, but I’m not sure how.”

“Oh. Well, what do they like? How long have you known them? And how close are you two? You can’t just ask out a random person you barely know, it won’t go well.”

“Well, they like a lot so it’s...kinda hard to put into words. I’ve known them for years now, and I’d like to say we’re pretty close.”

Thinking, you went quiet. As much as it hurt you to know your crush liked someone else, you were going to help him as best you could.

“Well, I’d give them a note, personally. I’d probably piss myself if I tried to tell them upfront. But it depends on how you wanna do it.”

Sal quietly thinks for a few seconds before standing up and fixing his mask, “Thanks for your help dude. We should get going, I’ll go find Larry and we can get out of here.”

You nod, standing and following Sal back into the house, heading for the front door while Sal went off to find Larry. With your mutual friend acquired, you all left for home, depositing Larry at his place and heading to your own beds, tired now that the social buzz had worn off.

Over the next week, you and Sal talked less and less, notes popped up in your locker, and small things like patches, stickers, pins and snacks appeared with them. You were confused to say the least. You loved everything this admirer gave you, and the notes were adorable, even if they were typed and printed rather than hand written, but you wondered why Sal had stopped talking to you as often as he did.

As the weeks progressed, you had started to like the secret admirer that was leaving you small gifts and notes reminding you how much they liked you. But the most recent note, which you had gotten on a sunny and warm Wednesday, really caught your attention. This time, it was handwritten in blue pen ink, the handwriting surprisingly neat, completely eliminating who you thought it was.

The note read: “y/n, meet me in the courtyard during lunch/break time. -<3”, and not wanting to disappoint, you waited with an uneasy shake until lunch came around where you went straight to the courtyard. Seeing no one, you sat on the ground by a tree to wait until your secret admirer got there.

10 minutes later, the heavy doors opened and closed with a thud, catching your attention and causing you to look up where you saw Sal, mask in hands, and looking down.

“Sal? Are you the one that wanted to meet me here?” You were..puzzled to say the least. Sal had hardly talked to you in weeks, and you thought he liked someone else like Ash, but it seems you were mistaken.

“Uh, yea, I am. I know you’re..probably upset at me for not talking to you in the past few weeks, but I didn’t want to say something stupid too soon. I hope you’re not too mad..”

“Sal, I’m not mad. I thought you were busy trying to get your mystery person to like you..and I guess I was right, but I didn’t think it’d be me..”

“Who else would it have been? You and I are as close as Larry and I are, we like the same things and I’ve known you since you got here. Hell, I’ve been pining over you for years now, but last year when Lar told me he was gonna try and shoot his shot, I tried to get myself to like Ash so I wouldn’t feel like shit if you said yes.”

“Oh, Sal. I thought it was Ash, you talk so much about her sometimes, I thought you actually liked her.”

“Oh, no, I don’t. She helped me with this, actually. Which reminds me, if its not obvious already, I really fucking like you. Like, you make me feel happy and just thinking about you makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.”

Smiling at his words you stood to go over to him, putting your hands on his shoulders so he would look up at you, “I like you too, Sal. Like, a lot. I have for a while, and when you asked how to ask someone out,I..it hurt a little bit.”

Saying nothing at your words, Sal moved forward and wrapped you in a hug, his mask landing in the grass behind you two. Before you could return the hug, Sal backed up and his hands grabbed your face pulling you in for a kiss. Giving you time to react this time, you kissed back, your hands placing themselves over his.

Now, sitting at a college party with your boyfriend, you think to yourself, ‘Maybe parties aren’t so bad after all.’

#sally face #sal fisher #sally face x reader #sally face game #sal fisher x y/n #gn!reader

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ipatrichor · 3 years ago

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c!wilbur? for teh ask game. if he's already been done than c!tubbo?

c!wilbur it is ^^

favorite thing about them

the mental illness /j no but actually my favorite thing is how much he cares. like... he has this incredibly warped perception of himself, but he cares soso much about everyone else that he tears himself apart for them and convinces himself it’s what they want/what he deserves :’ he’s given up everything for his friends time and again, and even when he self-destructed a large part of it was because he thought it was what was best for them i’m going to scream

least favorite thing about them

ok this is gonna sound weird but i don’t have very many disliked things abt him so,, i guess the nsfw jokes? idk, i’m ace and closer to sex-repulsed on the spectrum so rlly it’s just a personal thing that makes me a little uncomfortable sometimes jkgbfh :’ like just saying ‘kinky’ or w/e i literally don’t care abt, i’ve made those jokes, but when it gets to like borderline roleplaying something sexual i get uncomfortable :’’

favorite line

i’m not gonna be able to explain this one very well but the one that hasn’t left my head is something along the lines of “i know what i’m like. that’s the problem” because. fuck, dude. yeah. if i said i don’t feel that on a personal level, i’d be a fuckin liar :’’

brOTP

crimeboys. there are a lot of duos w wilbur i greatly enjoy (tubbo, niki, techno, fundy, phil, etc), but nothing will ever hold a candle in my heart to crimeboys

OTP

none really. idk why, like if it’s because of how much i relate to/project on him or something, but i just don’t see him in a romantic relationship :’ like i’ll write him post-sally, sure, but not really in a relationship

nOTP

any of the minors, full stop. i’ve Seen Things when i don’t filter ao3 tags carefully enough, and i hope to never see anything of the sort again. other than the obvious, i guess... any? like sally is canon and i don’t rlly mind that bc it’s a past relationship, but again i don’t really like shipping c!wilbur and idk why :’ it’s just not my thing lmao

random headcanon

i think he stims a lot. like, he probably masked a fair amount the first time he was alive, but even so he never really sat Still until sometime during potopia. he’d always be like. flicking his wrists, or holding his arms a certain way, or messing with his hair. during pogtopia i think it was a combination of masking bc he was desperate to be ‘taken seriously’ and him not having the energy to stim very much anymore (it’s canon he didn’t eat much and malnutrition is a bitch). so, i think it varied wildly between bursts of stimming and complete stillness, much like his mental state varied between high and low energy. and then after revival, i think he stops caring about masking so much and just goes fuckin wild (as he should)

unpopular opinion

idk how unpopular it is,, but i really hate the zombie wilbur stuff people have been doing since his revival. like, it rarely comes with a body horror tag, and even on stuff done by sympathizers there are still these massive stitches and patches of rotting flesh and it’s just so uncomfortable both to look at and because it’s only ever wilbur. like, tommy was revived too, but people don’t draw him as a Stinky Gross Rotting Zombie Man- no, it’s just wilbur. like, the implications are just. not good once you actually think about them, and it seems to have become part of the most popular/widely accepted fanon design which means i can’t avoid it bc people don’t even tag it or anything. idk it just feels like yet another unintentional dig at mental illness, and i’m just genuinely so tired

song i associate with them

there are. so many. i’m just gonna go thru my c!wilbur playlist and pull out a couple that rlly resonate ok :’’ a terrible ride from lizard boy, villains pt 1 by emma blackery, the village by wrabel, dancing after death by matt maeson, it’s called: freefall by rainbow kitten surprise, burned out by dodie, and liar by the arcadian wild ^^

favorite picture of them

i was abt to say i don’t have one but ykw i actually do- it’s this art piece my friend wil @gremling4mer drew for a fanfic i wrote. i still have it as my lockscreen, and the sheer cozy vibes + it being a gift from a friend have it ranked firmly as my favorite picture of c!wilbur ever :}

#asks #ask game #themagpieszenith #mutuals

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simplyclockwork · 4 years ago

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I note you accept writing prompts. I have a (weird I accept) desire to read a fic where Sherlock is self conscious about something, unexpectedly, and John cottons on and is supportive. The idea in my head is Sherlock injuring his neck and having to wear a neck brace (prompted by BC’s long lovely neck I think) and not wanting to go out with it on and John being all supportive and encouraging. But it could be some other thing that Sherlock needs reassurance about. I love your work.

Hi, anon! I love this prompt, it’s so sweet. I hope I’ve done it justice :) Thank you so much for reaching out with this request, and for letting me know you enjoy my work. It means a lot ♥️ Also posted on Ao3 here.

See below the page break for the entire fic. Can be read as pre-slash, established relationship, or really close bros.

------

Sherlock’s complaints drifted to John in the kitchen, drawing his attention away from the article he was reading.

“Must I wear this thing?”

Setting his newspaper aside, John sighed before he rose and padded out into the hall. He glanced toward the end. Sherlock’s bedroom door stood open, the man himself framed in the doorway. He was scowling at his reflection in the wardrobe mirror, tugging futilely at the collar of one of his suits. A thick, white neck brace disrupted the line of his fitted jacket, and the button wouldn’t quite close.

“Yes,” John said, moving to join him before the mirror. “Doctor’s orders.”

Sherlock shot him a glare. “Your orders,” he snapped, tugging at the button without success. Taking pity on him, John reached out and carefully fastened the offending button, smoothing a gentle hand over Sherlock’s shoulder.

“No, Doctor Connor’s orders.” He tilted his head and conceded, “Okay, and mine, too.” Another soothing touch, this time to Sherlock’s elbow. “But it’s only for a couple of weeks. Just to be safe.”

Sherlock’s expression could have struck a man dead at fifty paces. “Safe is boring,” he snarled, long fingers scraping over the neck collar. John caught his hand and pulled it away.

“Again, it’s just a few weeks. Now, come on. Greg’s waiting for us.”

“Who?”

John rolled his eyes. “Lestrade. Come on, he called for us an hour ago.”

“I’ll get there when I get there,” Sherlock shot back, still frowning at his reflection, two fingers tugging at his suit jacket. John paused, turned the words over in his head, and wondered at the odd timing of Sherlock’s sudden strop. Usually, such behaviour only reared its head after a case, not before it had even begun. And it was a double murder, something Sherlock usually thrilled in.

“It sounds like it’s at least an eight,” he replied, hoping to tempt Sherlock away from the edge of an impending sulk. Sherlock’s lips pursed, and he refused to look at John.

“I’m sure Scotland Yard can handle it themselves.”

John’s eyebrows shot up. “Alright, who are you, and what have you done with Sherlock Holmes?”

Instead of rising to the bait, Sherlock scoffed. Ripping off his suit jacket, he spun away from his reflection and brushed past John to storm down the hallway. John followed, bewildered, watching the moody detective perch carefully on the edge of the sofa. It was such a far cry from his usual dramatic flounce and sprawl that John paused. An idea was forming, what Sherlock would have called a deduction, and John studied Sherlock’s stiff posture as his mind worked over the evidence.

Sherlock never turned down a case higher than a six, and never a double homicide. He rarely, if ever, seemed insecure about his clothing, especially his snug dress shirts and tailored suit jackets. Quite the opposite, the man seemed to thrive on the ridiculously tight fabric. John, by contrast, preferred soft, comfortable clothing, much to Sherlock’s constant sneering.

The idea that formed made him approach the irate detective with a softened voice and a cautious step. “You could borrow a jumper if you like.”

Sherlock stiffened. Staring straight ahead, he didn’t look at John, but his eyes narrowed. “Why would I do that?”

John tried a different tact. “What about one of those nice jumpers your mother bought you last Christmas?” Sherlock made a sharp noise of negation, and John squinted, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Sherlock glanced his way, upper body swivelling due to the inability to turn his neck.

“Stop it,” he hissed. John raised an eyebrow and sat carefully on the arm of his chair.

“Stop what?”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed further, angry slits glittering in his flushed face. “Stop. Deducing. Me.”

An amused snort escaped John before he could stop it. “Hello, kettle.”

Upper lip curling back, Sherlock snarled at him, “Shut up, John.”

John subsided, watching Sherlock closely. Beneath all the bravado, the hissing, spitting ire, he saw something else. There was an obvious discomfort there, and a flash of fleeting vulnerability that lingered in Sherlock’s eyes. John thought back to the argument with the suit jacket and realized the button wasn’t the problem.

Rising to his feet, he crossed to the sofa and sank down next to Sherlock. “Hey,” he said gently, resisting the urge to smile at Sherlock’s stubbornness when he refused to turn toward him. “It’s only a couple of weeks. I know the collar isn’t comfortable, but if you don’t wear it, you’re risking permanent damage.”

Sherlock’s lips pulled back as he bared his teeth. “I don’t need you to cite the medical brochure at me, John,” he ground out, a muscle jumping in his jaw. There was a faint, subtle waver in the growled words, and John softened. Reaching out, ignoring Sherlock’s bristle, he stroked his fingertips over the back of Sherlock’s hand. Despite his stiff, angry posture, Sherlock immediately flipped his hand over, letting John lace their fingers together. John smiled and squeezed gently. “It might be easier if you wore a jumper. Or, just. Something a little looser.”

“I am not wearing a jumper, John,” Sherlock sniffed, shooting him a sharp little glare from the corner of his eyes. He was still facing forward, his posture stiff. The position couldn’t be doing anything good for his bruised cervical muscles, and John resisted the urge to reach up and feel for tension in his shoulders. It was better to let the collar do its job, and he doubted Sherlock would welcome the gesture.

Another thought occurred, followed by understanding. “No one is going to make fun of you.”

Sherlock tensed further, and John silently thought, ah. There it was. Despite all the cases he had solved, many of the Yarders still whispered cruel things behind Sherlock’s back (and Sally always did it right to his face). Part of Sherlock’s armour was his pristine appearance, a way of presenting himself in a way that left no opening for ridicule. That way, they could only pick at his behaviour, his strange predilections for solving murders and exhilarating in what he called The Game. The neck brace was a chink in the armour.

When Sherlock didn’t reply, John stroked his thumb lightly over the side of the hand twined with his. “We don’t have to go,” he said, and Sherlock glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. He didn’t speak, and John added, “You’re right. Greg and his team can probably figure this one out on their own.” He paused, met Sherlock’s wary eyes, and offered a small smile. “But, just so you know, I’d love to see them try to say anything with me there.” He flexed the fingers of his free hand toward his palm, the knuckles still bruised and healing from when he had socked the man who had choked Sherlock three days ago, the cause of their current conversation. “I think my fist is ready for another go.” He offered a crooked smile, the one he knew always made Sherlock grin. And, without fail, the corner of Sherlock’s lips twitched.

“Quite right,” Sherlock murmured, and John gave his hand one last squeeze before standing.

“So,” he said, turning with a raised brow, “Thai?”

Sherlock cleared his throat delicately and blinked down at his lap. “Actually, I…” he paused, brow furrowing before he looked up at John carefully. “Perhaps a jumper?”

Hiding his smile, John tilted his head. “One of mine?” He chuckled at Sherlock’s grimace of distaste. “Aright, okay. One of your mum’s?” At Sherlock’s attempt at a nod, he asked, “The red one?”

Sherlock bit his lip, and his gaze skated away. “The… blue one.” He coughed softly. “It’s the same colour as your eyes.”

This time, John couldn’t keep the smile from spreading over his face. “Mm, yeah. I knew I liked that one for a reason.” Turning toward the hall, he paused when Sherlock drew out his mobile. “Are you calling for the takeaway?” he asked, knowing the assumption was wrong, but playing dumb.

“No,” Sherlock hummed, tapping at the keys. “Letting Lestrade know we’ll be there within the hour.”

“Very considerate,” John replied, turning away to hide his grin.

#sherlock #johnlock #comfort #fluff #ficlet #prompt #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #anon #softest boys #Anonymous

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dilfbatman · 5 years ago

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Hello there! I'm the anon with the Percy being Patrochilles' love child ask. Can I ask for some headcanons of modern!patrochilles adopting Percy?

OMG HELLO MODERN!PATROCHILLES PERCY LOVE CHILD ANON who simply put that thought into my brain and is also legendary....... lemme whip something up for you :’) so in this au i’ll do it as modern!patrochilles legit adopt percy as their lovechild bc this is an au and i can do what i want LMFAO (it feels so weird not having sally in here but i will add her somehow regardless bc she’s the QUEEN) hope you enjoy friend!!!

—

- patroclus & achilles see percy and see his wide bright sea-green eyes looking up at them and they mirror achilles’ spearmint green eyes and reminds achilles of patroclus’ skops nickname, and percy’s hair is dark like patroclus’ and is tan like him too and he has a giggle that is like a melody and both of them think. okay he is ours and then they get told that his name is “perseus” aka the only demigod that lived a long & safe life and they have a sense of relief and think. wow he really is ours

- on the ride home percy is a little quiet but he has a sense of happiness and can’t really put it into words, and patroclus holds percy’s tiny little hand and tells him that they’re all gonna be a family and tells him how lucky he & achilles feel that they have a beautiful joy in their life and perseus smiles and achilles is driving and trying not to cry bc he can see how beautiful a son perseus is going to be and how beautiful a dad patroclus already is

- now. patroclus would be the kind, soft, warm, empathetic, semi-strict parent who always gives the best advice, wants there to be a two way street of trust, honesty, and respect and he is such a soft dad and achilles would be the fun, wild card, dorky dad who protects his child with a fervor and relates to perseus & is very loving just like patroclus and is Iike the best friend dad, and the entire time they’re both so loving to percy & sometimes patroclus is rolling his eyes playfully and is like “i’m raising TWO kids” after perseus & achilles have blue paint on themselves after making an art project for patroclus that he looks at & admires and tears up at while putting it on the wall :’)

- percy calls them lily & pat sometimes and they call him perse, perseus, and cici <3

- they all like to celebrate the holidays and they give each other valentine’s day cards and patrochilles put a stuffed animal, his favorite candy, and some lil extra presents on percy’s bed after he comes from school. on halloween they dress percy up like a lil guppy and pat has his pumpkin costume and achilles w his greek god costume & they all go trick or treating and both percy & achilles ask for candy while pat is just chastising achilles and telling him “you better share w perseus” hehe and on christmas it’s filled w love, laughter, cheer, & tons of presents on all sides :’) percy gives them homemade drawings and the sweetest cards and patrochilles give him a photo framed of all three of them + their golden retriever puppy chiron, a polaroid, and a certificate saying that they adopted a baby seal in perseus’ name <3

- they keep every little card that they give each other and they have scrapbooks and albums and they want to carry these memories forever :’) and omg when it’s percy’s bday it is simply WILD! fast forward a couple years later it’s so much fun and they eat cake and have a great summer picnic outside w all of percy’s friends and yes everyone is checking achilles & patroclus out bc they’re valid and they all have such a grand ol’ time :’) annabeth, jason, frank, hazel, and will talk to patroclus a lot and piper, leo, nico, reyna, and thalia talk to achilles a lot and they all intermingle and percy is just so happy that everyone is getting along and they all tell him that his dads are the coolest and so kind and funny and he feels a rush of pride

- also patrochilles are DILFs. no i will not elaborate and i will not allow someone to disagree with me. they’re DILFs and it’s time to accept it and honor it (achilles a proud DILF, patroclus rolling his eyes while blushing when he gets called that)

- fast forward to many years later and perseus has went through his awkward pre-teen years in which he talked to patroclus all about it bc he could relate and achilles was there to provide moral support bc even if he didn’t go through it he wants his son to know that everything he felt was valid and completely normal! now that percy has grown into his own he still knows that he can talk to them about his feelings but he also has a feeling of confidence in him

- i also think that every demigod has adhd so achilles can relate to perseus on that and patroclus helps perseus w his dyslexia and will stay up into the late hours of the night helping him with homework while achilles cuts up some fruit & figs for them to eat and he gives them both kisses and moral support and many needed breaks & snacks

- also fun fact a book percy has to read is by the infamous sally jackson who is literally patroclus’ favorite writer of ALL time and he’s so hype and he has written sally multiple times and is in correspondence with her and one time he was like “you should come by” and sally says “ofc!” and she ends up doing just that, she comes by their apartment and pat is Shook and mixing up his words and all that can come out is “i Love book” and achilles has to translate everything he says and perseus tells her how much he admires her writing and how the hell did she come up w the idea of gods & demigods and how did she have prose so beautiful while speaking of them? and sally just winks and percy smiles and feels like he understands :’) towards the end sally leaves and made sure to sign all of pat’s books and gives them a bust of poseidon who is her favorite god & he nearly passes out and she gives perseus a trident necklace that he will wear forever bc he knows it means something to her and for some reason, it means something to him too

- and LISTEN! perseus has grown into his own and is absolutely beautiful! he has bright green eyes and a lil eyebrow slit that he accidentally got while playing in the park in which patrochilles were so afraid but kept it together after patroclus patched him up, he is tan & tall w jet black hair with a deep & melodic voice, and he has the empathy, kindness, leadership, strength, wisdom, and badassery that was innate/instilled in him by his wonderful parents. patroclus the entire time is like damn those demigod genes!!!! making my baby boy look like a model just like his father smh what about me!!!! and achilles is like babe you’re gorgeous and perseus is like yeah dad you’re great

- and achilles and patroclus do a double take bc the entire time leading up to this percy never really called them dad he just called them nicknames or petnames and all of sudden the dam breaks and everyone is crying and hugging and achilles and patroclus both give percy the biggest kiss on either side of his cheek and percy’s face is being Squished but he doesn’t mind bc he can feel their love :’)

- and lemme tell y’all something achilles had a feeling his baby boy was a demigod after seeing all those monsters and creatures and patroclus could always see through the mist and growing up they wanted him to have a normal life, but achilles wanted percy to be able to protect himself so he taught percy how to fight & patroclus taught him stuff that he learned from medical school and how to patch himself/others up & percy is very well versed in all aspects and is very grateful for this

- percy is a troublemaker and sarcastic little shit who loves to curse and he really gets that from achilles & he is also sensitive, warm, empathetic and in touch with his emotions and he gets that from patroclus and he is the true lovechild of both of those dorks

- basically listen i could talk about them for hours and i can make so many of these but i know how long imma end up making this so lemme just say this: i love modern!patrochilles they’d be the best dads and i love perseus and they’re just a big happy family bc they DESERVE it <3 and maybe YOU know something that they don’t about sally ;) i didn’t know how i’d go about writing this but i hope you liked it! lemme know! <3 and so sorry this is all over the place hehe i know it’s scattered and long but i hope you like it! :’)

#percy jackson #the song of achilles #tsoa #pjo #percy jackson headcanons #the song of achilles headcanons #patrochilles #modern!patrochilles #HEHE THANK YOU ANON FOR MAKING PERCY THE LOVECHILD OF PATROCHILLES HEHE #HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!!#love you #asks #patrochilles!lovechild anon #patrochilles!lovechild

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ziracona · 4 years ago

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are you sick of me Loving Trapper yet? you will be. anyway. if you had given evan more screen time/developed him further, what would you have done/where would you have gone? how badly would he get dunked on at every turn? any specific thoughts?

I did not realise you had a specific love for Trapper actually 😂. I just thought you were very much enjoying most existing dbd characters.

Hmmm, so, to preface, Evan I have complicated thoughts on, and probably a less popular take as far as the fandom goes? Usually, my feelings towards Evan are that he’s an interesting character and would be fun to write, and that’s what they started as too, but I was really shocked when I first went from playing dbd to finding online fandoms & saw that he’s such a wildly like, nicely/sympathetically portrayed character? Instead of just a fan favourite for being interesting? It also made me sad and kinda peeved that while Philip also just gets passed over tragically when it comes to shipping period, his existing ships are basically just Trapper and Nurse? (And Dwight, although that tapered off a lot). And it rubbed me really wrong that Trapper, who is a rich white 1860s estate owner who killed his workers for shits, was one of the two most popular options for the tragic and well-intentioned Nigerian dude? I mean like, Evan being a rich white 1860s or earlier estate owning man who came to view weak/poor/working class as maggots being the case? It’s uhhh, it’s pretty damn likely he wouldn’t have exactly been an abolitionist, let alone a progressive person period. So. That really bothered me. A lot.

The whole personality take bothered me largely bc many characters who are canon-objectively much more nice or good or sympathetic get little or much less attention period ( Sally, Joey, Julie, Adiris, Lisa—even Max and Philip, who were both p OG right with him, &), while his entire murders-people-no-problem shtick got largely ignored in favour of “Evan is a chill nice dude outside of trials” for I still don’t know the reason? Which like, I don’t mean liking him as a character ever bothered me at all, nor do I mean that people can’t have their HCs, it just really threw me for a loop to see him so consistently interpreted so very far from his in-game description, and it did bother me he got that while so many canonically more decent killers didn’t? (+ the list above uh, not weirdly enough, is completely made of women, poc, &/or disfigured & disabled characters so. : / But that’s it’s own topic).

As a character, I think Evan is very cool. He’s been very fun to write! The man is much more complex than say Mr. Chase, both in backstory and situation, and he’s been in the realm a long ass time, which could lead to some pretty interesting storytelling potential for him, or even hypothetically change and growth as a human being (or alternately but potentially just as interestingly, a more canonical slide into servititude and loyalty to the Entity and hunger for violence and suffering). He’s actually got some more time in the prequel bit than he did in ILM I think. He’s definitely not a good person (I mean, ye obvs), but he’s got some layers, and is more interesting than many of the antagonists. By the time of ILM, he’s kind of the Entity’s favourite? Aside from Kenneth. It’s like, Evan is the hardworking associate who has been on-site for 20 years and worked his way up to confidant and assistant manager, and Kenneth is the hoe who has been there a week and also made asst manager because he’s sleeping with the boss (which is why everyone, definitely including Evan, hated him so much). The Entity isn’t a creature that seeks out confidants in a personal way, or needs or wants social relationships, but as much as it ever did, by habit, vent or chat or whatever the hell you’d call its weird version of that, it would be Evan every time that would get the “Scully you’re never gonna believe this” while he’s just trying to chill in his estate and sip a mimosa but he’s like, “Ok. What?” If I’d given Evan more time, it would have been interesting to explore that and his personal thoughts on things and motivations for what he does some, because outsider view is almost always fun, and annoyed or exasperated outsider view can be p great!

He wasn’t someone I had reason or time to focus on in ILM, but I did develop him a decent bit behind the scenes, and he was a fun character to delve into. Uhhh I don’t think things would have ended any differently for him if he had more of his time on-screen, not in this story anyway, but he wouldn’t have gotten dunked on at every turn. Unfortunately, Evan is fairly skilled at what he does, so it would have also been a lot of him killing survivors and making them, especially poor Feng, who had the audacity to embarrass and outclass him and earned his constant antagonism for it, suffer. He is more of an interesting antagonist in many ways though, which has been fun to develop, because he certainly has a sense of pride. So, he would accept challenges probably, or fight someone one-on-one even if he didn’t have to, to prove he could. And a bad dude with a code of some kind, even if it’s just “I can squash you alone with my bare hands and will show you how true that is,” is still very interesting to work with. Means they will make and hold to some kinds of decisions, personality wise. Good for storytelling. I could say more, because I have spent some time w Mr. MacMillan, but I think I already over-answered, so I’ll leave it here. Thanks for the question! I’m sorry if you hate this answer though. TuT

#ask #speckeltail #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #personal #writing #dead by daylight #long post

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kn1feinthec0ffee · 4 years ago

Text

in too deep (part 3)- jules

jules x reader

warnings: language, anxiety, creepiness, some violence, homophobia, overall just weird vibes (if you’ve seen the movie you know what i’m talking about)

TW: MENTIONS OF NON-CON (please don’t read if you’re triggered by this!! this was the bit of the story i had to change for the story to make sense since i swapped mickey’s gender. it doesn’t actually happen, but if the threat triggers you, do NOT READ!!!)

notes: i’m gonna try and keep this one shorter bc writing long chapters stresses me out

also! i’m writing this based on a pdf of the original script for the movie, so some dialogue may be different, or it may be my own creation because believe it or not, there are times that i do in fact possess creativity!!

you woke up with a jolt, dreams of the strangest variety plaguing your subconscious. you reached up to touch your pounding head- well, at least you would’ve if it wasn’t restrained.

“what the hell?” you tugged on the handcuffs, quickly realizing your legs were tied down, too, rendering you completely immobile. upon discovering this, you began to panic, breaking out in a cold sweat as you called out for your security blanket. “jules! jules!”

“she’s not gonna hear you. she’s down in the basement with sweetiepie.” gloria said calmly as she entered the room.

not impressed with her answer, you questioned her. “what are you gonna do to her?”

“my, my. you asked about her safety before even questioning yours! the bond the two of you share must be stronger than i thought.” she mused, looking down at your panicked expression. “your belle is safe and sound, don’t worry. but if you want to see her again, you’re going to have to cooperate.”

“cooperate? what the fuck are you gonna do to me?” you wrenched at your restraints, your heart rate beginning to pick up sufficiently. you depended on jules more than any other person in your life, and without her, you began to quickly unravel.

“just sit tight, all will be revealed soon enough.” gloria stated with an eerie smile. you hated how calm she was, it made you feel like she knew something you didn’t. “would you like to see some photos of my son?”

was she serious? look at some photos of her son? all you wanted was their car! how did you end up in this mess? the sudden aggravation caused you to lose your composure.

“no, i don’t wanna see any pictures of your fucking son! i wanna get my girlfriend and that fucking kid and get the fuck out of here!” you screamed. “i wanna get the fuck away from you and your crazy ass husband! i wa-” your sudden outburst was cut off by a firm slap, giving you little time to react before gloria had you in a chokehold.

“you keep your damn mouth shut! you won’t refer to anyone in this family like that under my roof!” you spat in her face, taking in a wheezing breath as she let go of you to wipe her face. her sudden anger morphed into what you assumed was her signature brand of unnerving calmness.

“you wanted to know what i’m going to do to you? i’ll tell you.” she smiled creepily. “you see, george and i have wanted our own children for the longest time, but that’s just not what the good lord had planned for us. so think of yourself as a vessel for us. an oven for our bun, if you will.”

your jaw dropped, the color in your face draining as your eyes widened in shock. “fuck! what the fuck? that’s so fucking fucked up! you’re not gonna fucking touch me, you bitch!” you couldn’t catch your breath, your chest heaving with every intake of air.

gloria got up to leave, her long skirt spinning with a flourish as she made her way to the bedroom door. “d-don’t f-fucking leave,” you wheezed as she exited the room, slamming the door behind her.

“jules!” you shouted. “jules, please fucking help me,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes in defeat.

-------------------------------

time ticked by slowly, your arms and shoulders starting to ache as they were held in the same position. you tried to reposition them to get some relief, but none came.

suddenly, you heard the door click open, your eyes flitting up hopefully. gloria entered with a grin on her painted lips, making her way towards you.

while you were in the room by yourself, you had used the time wisely to come up with what would hopefully be a successful escape plan. you looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes. “gloria, can we talk?”

“absolutely. what’s on your mind?” it was creepy how quickly she seemed to get over your defiance from earlier, but you pushed the thought from your mind.

“well, honestly, your proposal.” you began. “i know how i acted the other day was totally uncalled for, and i’ve reconsidered.”

“well, you didn’t really have much of a choice, sweetheart, but i’m glad you feel that way.” she stroked a hand over your stomach, making you feel physically sick. “is there anything else?”

“yeah, there is. can we start now? i wanna start these happy nine months as soon as i can.” you faked a smile, the words coming out of your mouth churning your insides.

“well yes, i guess that could be arranged,” she moved to get up and you panicked, your plan quickly setting out of motion.

“wait!” you exclaimed. “can you uncuff me? i don’t think it would really be enjoyable if i was tied down like i am now.”

she looked skeptical, but sat down next to you anyways. “give me one good reason you wouldn’t be trying to escape as soon as i untied you.”

“well, i’ve had a change of heart.” no i haven’t. “i’ve considered it, and i think you’re right.” no you’re not. “i think this experience would be really beneficial to me,” no it wouldn’t. “especially if i wasn’t chained to the bed the whole time.” definitely not.

“it seems that you’ve really put some thought into this, i’m very proud of you.” gloria crooned. she sat on the side of the mattress, working on uncuffing your hands from the bedposts. as soon as both your hands were free, you took a tight grip of her hair and used your body weight to launch her off of you and onto the floor. she cried out, clutching her head as you worked at the ropes around your ankles.

“you psycho fucking bitch!” you cursed at her. “i’m getting my girlfriend and that fucking kid and we’re getting the fuck out of here!” once your legs were finally free, you took off, running down the stairs as the damsel called out for her husband.

you raced towards the door, prying at the handle, when a gunshot goes off right next to your head. you jumped in fear, raising your hands in defense to see george at the top of the staircase, wielding your pistol.

“exactly what in the hell do you think you’re doing? get your ass up here!” he shouted, waving the weapon threateningly. when you stood frozen in your tracks, he spoke again. “i’m a crack shot, kid. i missed you on purpose that time. now get on up here.”

you grudgingly headed up the stairs, keeping your wide eyes facing straight ahead. you heard gloria sobbing in the other room, sounding as distraught as ever, and you knew you were in for it. “who the hell raised you like that? you of all people making a woman cry like that.”

“i’d blow your brains out if i thought you had any,” george sighed. “well, i’ll tell you one thing; you’re a bit too spry for my liking.”

suddenly, he pulled the trigger, and the bullet ripped through the meat of your thigh. you screamed in agony, clutching the wound as you cried out. “fuck! what the fuck? you just fucking shot me!”

he acted like it was nothing, simply tossing a towel at you to stop the bleeding. “quit your whinin’, ya sally. we’ll get you bandaged up.”

----------------------------

“don’t make me put another bullet in ‘ya. just behave, goddammit!” george growled as he dragged you down the basement stairs. through your hazy vision, you were able to make out jules handcuffed to a pole not too far away from the girl. he drops you to the floor, yanking your hands behind your back and cuffing them next to jules’.

“y/n!” jules called out, a happy yet worried smile making its way onto her lips. her gaze landed on your leg, her eyes widening when she saw the bloody wrappings. “oh my god! you motherfucker, what did you do to her?”

“what are you blind? i shot her.” george stated matter-of-factly. “now you two keep quiet down here. keep an eye on ‘em, sweetiepie.” he looked over to the girl before heading upstairs.

“fuck, i’m so happy you’re alive, baby! i heard those gunshots go off and i was so scared i was gonna lose you! are you okay?” jules blurted out, trying to turn towards you.

“it hurts so fucking bad, but i’m okay.” you panted, breathing labored. you wriggled your arms, pulling on the cuffs frustratingly.

“can you pick it?” jules asks hopefully. your heavy eyes darted around the basement, searching for something in arm’s reach small enough to fit in the keyhole.

“i don’t have anything to pick it with.” you huffed, leaning your head back against the pole as tears of frustration brimmed your eyes. “shit!”

you peeled your eyes open to look around the room once more, eyes landing on sweetiepie as she stared back at you in fascination. you had had enough of this little girl; she was the reason you were in this whole mess. if she just would’ve fucking cooperated, the three of you could be outta here and on the route to florida. “oh, i’m so glad you’re here, i didn’t get the chance to say fuck you!”

jules nudged you with her elbow, as if to discourage you from swearing at the child. “leave her alone, she feels bad. she didn’t know what she was doing.”

“how the hell do you know? she talked?” you asked in confusion at her statement.

“i don’t know, i just do.” jules shrugged. sweetiepie had resumed playing with her toys once more, the little princess dolly riding away on the heroic stallion’s back. you sighed at the seemingly hopeless situation, letting your eyes fall shut.

this was gonna be a long night.

***************************

okay so an itty bitty change of plans: if this ended where it was originally supposed to, it would be really long and kinda unsatisfying (to me at least), so i’m splitting this into two chapters.

which means that instead of a 5-part series, this will be 6 parts! it just makes more sense to me that way.

anyway, i hope you guys enjoy!! i really had fun writing this part!

tags: @emmyrosee @flowers-in-your-hayr @willyourecognisemee @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass

#jules #jules x reader #jules imagine #jules oneshot #jules fic #jules fanfic #jules fanfiction #jules villains #villains #villains 2019 #maika monroe #maika monroe character #my writing

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apprenticenerd · 4 years ago

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"Anyone can send me an ask with one of the titles and I’ll post a snippet or talk about that WIP!" The Acropolis, Tacet, Checklist, A Tiny Galaxy, Hearsay, Going Back, Ella Disenchanted, Making Peace, The Slashed Circle, Wake Up, Tenno, Midnight, Heliotropism, Arrhythmia, the one about Among Us, the one about Library of Ruina, the one that’s a D&D world concept. Yes, all of them. I know you wanna talk about all of them. So go, go forth and do it!

Hoooo boy, this is gonna be a long post. Lots and lots of writing snippets under the cut to avoid dash stretch!

The Acropolis - original - length uncertain - 1.4k and counting

im not ready for this im not i thought it would be yrs i thought id at least get an english degree first

omg sal whats goin on

fuckin hell whyd it have to be now i have a chem lab tomorrow

sally-tate macpherson. u never swear. ever. wtf is goin on.

ok. jess. i need u to listen really really carefully. understand?

answer the goddamn question ur scarin me

shut up and listen and this will go a lot better

fine but u need to tell me wtf is happnenig

ok. im going to tell you a bunch of stuff. not giving u advice, thats not allowed, but im gonna tell u stuff it seems like itd be impossible for me to know.

?????????????

i said shut up this is really important dont question how i know it. just go with it and figure out what to do. and dont die. bc no matter how crazy stuff seems, if u die, ur dead. here and everywhere. ok?

This is an original story coming straight from a @/writing-prompt-s prompt about a crack in a kid’s hardwood floor that they fantasized was a portal actually being one. I originally intended to write the entire thing like this, as a conversation over text, but that may not be feasible given a certain world-building detail at the other end of the portal (and the limits of my creativity lmao).

---

Tacet - The Blackout Club - one-shot - 3.2k and counting

She closed her eyes again, and there it was. Hallucination? Some new science trick with electromagnetic radiation off the visible spectrum? Evidence that she was actually going insane? Whatever it was, it burned behind her eyelids in bright, incontrovertible red - and was completely invisible when she opened her eyes again. There was just the usual mess of club posters and one big one about someone’s exceedingly dumb-looking lost cat.

Eyes open, there was only Sargent Snuggles. Eyes closed, there was the normal darkness and then three lines of text where the poster had been, wavering like scarlet fire:

JOIN TBC JOIN TBC JOIN TBC

TBC? What the fuck was that? She’d never heard of any group with that acronym before. Hardly aware of the flurry of weird looks from half the other people in the hallway, she crossed the hall to examine the lost cat poster more closely. It felt like perfectly normal paper when she touched it, and there wasn’t even a hint of red with her eyes open, unless you counted the cat’s tacky pink sweater. How the hell was this even possible?

“You’re finally cracking, Bri,” she groaned under her breath, then headed for her locker. She did have to get home. Add another big fat entry to the weird shit list.

A backstory one-shot for my Blackout Club OC Briar, telling the story of how she got into the club in the first place. I’ve been stuck in the same spot for a while now, after Briar’s friend Dani explains the club to her, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the scene’s over as is. Of course, writing the next one is the tough part.

---

Checklist - The Blackout Club - one-shot - 1.7k and counting

8. You still have a headache. Shouldn’t you go back to sleep and try to do this in the morning?

9. (wake up)

10. Nah, you’ve always been a night owl, and school starts criminally early, too early to get much done beforehand. It’s quiet, except for Dad snoring. Your parents are asleep already. You can stay up until this is done, and they’ll be none the wiser.

11. Your head hurts worse. It’s getting harder to think. At only 9 pm? 9:30? Whatever. You should sleep.

12. (wake UP)

13. What are you thinking? You have to read at least a little of this chapter, or there’s no way you’ll be able to bullshit your way through class tomorrow. Besides, all of a sudden, the silence feels...strange. Heavier? You can’t describe it.

14. You need to sleep. You need a drink of water or something. You need to finish this damn homework. You need to sleep. You need to sleep.

15. Stare at The Great Gatsby. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense.

16. Realize what’s up with the silence. Dad’s not snoring anymore. You aren’t feeling like yourself. You need to sleep.

17. Something’s weird.

18. (WAKE UP)

19. ...No. Something’s wrong.

Another Blackout Club story and another Interface Screw, as it were, this time in the form of a (very long) checklist. None of the characters have names (yet). It describes another way a kid could find themself running around at night with the Blackout Club, this time by fighting off the Song just enough to run into a club member who could wake them up the rest of the way. As with Tacet, I still need to write the suspenseful part.

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A Tiny Galaxy - Warframe - 4 chapters planned, 1 complete, 1 in progress - 7.8k and counting

Try it if you don’t believe me, the kid in the vent had said.

It was impossible. It was physically impossible. All of this was impossible. Had the Void...? Could the Void...?

The ship was at a standstill. Her mother had tried to kill her, and something had happened. She’d made something happen. There had been no holoprojector in that kid’s hand. Nothing was impossible anymore.

Jhia took a deep breath. How the heck was she supposed to do this? Was she supposed to feel something, some internal guide? Blue Hair hadn’t said. Feeling incredibly stupid, she did a quick mental checkup on herself. Nothing felt wrong, or different - but now that she thought about it…

Afterward, she would try many times to explain it, and fail every time. The best she could come up with was that once she found the Void, calling on it was as easy and as natural as breathing. She opened her hands in front of her, concentrated on that force like an extension of herself, reopened her eyes, and there it was: a riotous little ball of energy, wisps and motes of light and not-quite-light like a tiny galaxy, the Tau system in the palm of her hand, raging.

More OC backstory time! This one’s for my Tenno, a nerdy fourteen-year-old (at the time of this story, anyway) by the name of Jhia, going through the hell that is the Zariman Ten-Zero and what happened on it. This is possibly the first part of the story I actually wrote: the roll-credits moment when Jhia realizes the Void’s changed her more already than she thought.

---

Hearsay - Lobotomy Corporation/Library of Ruina - one-shot - 1k and counting

"Oh? Did they investigate further?"

"They tried. Found a few fingerprints, but they didn't match anyone in the database."

"What's the update, then?"

"Reports from elsewhere in the district of someone not in uniform carrying a Zwei sword. They're slippery, good at avoiding us, which would suggest Syndicate operative to me and HQ. Except that in every one of the descriptions we managed to get, our sword thief is a child."

"What? How?!"

"You tell me, Iona. You're the one who went to the crime scene."

"Right... Jeez, if it's a kid, I guess that'd explain why Petrov thought they weren't a threat..."

"My thoughts exactly. HQ has a fair amount of hearsay to go on, but nobody can quite agree on how old the child is, or whether or not she's with a Syndicate. Most agree that she appears to be a girl, tall for a child, auburn hair, clothes and demeanor typical of a Backstreets native."

"We got a name?"

"They've heard Yeri, Kali, Redbird, Suma, Aelfin... No one knows which is her real one, or if it's even any of them at all."

"Damn. ...Say, are you going to drink that entire pot of coffee?"

"Help yourself."

This is one of those stories that turned into an accidental AU when more of canon came out. The idea behind it is that it’s Kali’s backstory told entirely in conversations in which she did not participate, showcasing the fact that a Fixer’s fame is their livelihood and Kali was about as famous as they come, before the whole L Corp thing happened. Of course, the vast majority of the headcanons here got invalidated with a certain Ruina update, so my motivation’s kinda down on this one.

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Going Back has already been talked about here!

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Ella Disenchanted - The Blackout Club - one-shot (maybe two-shot??) - 1.4k and counting

She woke. Her stomach went through a series of panicked flip-flops as she thought something strange had done it, Dad or a little-kid-nightmares shadow beast had made noise, but no - why had she fallen asleep in the first place? Her butt and shoulder were sore where they’d been leaning on the bottom and side of the windowsill, presumably all night, since the sun was full up over the trees on Old Growth Hill.

All night. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall asleep, but she did anyway. God dammit.

As she unfolded herself from her cramped ball, though, she froze. Under the comforter she’d pulled around her shoulders for warmth, she was wearing her gray jacket, a T-shirt, jeans, sneakers getting dried mud all over the carpet.

Last she remembered, she’d been in her pajamas.

In which a Blackout Club kid’s little sister wonders where he’s gone when he runs away to the boxcar, and tries to get to the bottom of the mystery herself. Usually she’d be too young for the club to recruit, but her investigations and an incident involving SAO are more than enough extenuating circumstance. Unlike most of my other WIPs, there’s a whole outline at the end of my doc for this one.

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Making Peace - Warframe - multi-chapter - 1.5k and counting

“I…” Iksoh finally said. “Sorna, I hope you realize. I’m not into this. I never - I’m not doing this. Whatever you’re doing, I can’t.”

“I know,” Sorna said softly. The decision tore at her heart again and she almost backed out of the vent, but no. She had to go. She wouldn’t see another innocent crumple in her rifle sights. “I hope you realize. I’m not coming back.”

Behind her, Iksoh let out a long, shaky breath. “It’s taking all I’ve got not to report you right now. Sorna… the Queens’ll have my head for this. Please, please, let it be worth it. Go. Don’t let them take yours.”

“I won’t,” Sorna promised, and meant it.

Later, after her last fight for her freedom was done, on the Steel Meridian ship headed for Kronia Relay, Sorna looked out at the planet retreating behind her and thought of Iksoh. She’d just learned a new word from a Meridian soldier: vaykor tal, the defector’s spirit. Iksoh had let her go, at risk of their own life. They’d had a bit of the vaykor tal themself, even if they hadn’t known it, even if they’d thought it was just some weakness that was bound to get them killed.

“Ranre treri, duf krun,” she whispered into space, a Grineer well-wishing passed down from sergeant to tube-fresh lancer since time immemorial. May your hands be steady, and may life be kind.

This is an AU born of me and some friends wondering why in the heck Perrin and the Meridian hate each other so much in game. It’s about a group of Kavor - Grineer defectors distinguished from other Meridian members by their pacifism - who get to a Relay and start wondering the same thing. Besides Sorna (and, later in the story, Iksoh as well), there would have been Chakh, Beket, and Sydon, plus at least four of the syndicate leaders and a bunch of side-character OCs, all caught up somehow in what turns out to be a surprisingly far-reaching web of intrigue.

The Slashed Circle - Warframe - one-shot, probably - 429 and counting

In addition to their written and spoken language, the Grineer have a full language of hand signs. It has its quirks, as all languages do - be careful of confusing it with the Corpus sign language, in which the sign for “to pay” roughly approximates the Grineer sign for...a certain portion of the male anatomy. Among these is the common Grineer sentiment against those who defect from their ranks, baked into the sign just as much as their spoken words.

The sign of the slashed circle, the sedashkur - a finger drawn in a circle on the chest, followed by a diagonal line - is the highest of taboos to any loyal Grineer. It shows support for such scum as the Kavor and Steel Meridian, enough so that it forms the basis for the Meridian’s battle standard. To sign the sedashkur is to betray your siblings, commit a grave insult to your superiors, paint a near-indelible target on your back. It is an object of hatred and fear throughout the ranks.

She fears it, yes, but she does not hate it, for all her life and into her death as well. It shouldn’t trouble her now, though. It is easy to hide a language, and she burned her journals before she was called to the fortress.

This is a fic about Jhia and her one (1) converted Kuva Lich, namely about the process of said Lich’s defeat and defection, that kinda never got off the ground. Contrary to this snippet, I think most of it would have been written in what are essentially space emails back and forth between Lich and Tenno? I definitely got as far as Jhia sending an audio recording of a bass-boosted dog fart, anyhow.

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Wake Up, Tenno - Warframe - one-shot - 950 and counting

“Wake up, Tenno.”

She wakes. She is - she is Tenno, right? She is a Tenno? Her mind is confused, so full of fog and dead ends - how long was she asleep?

The voice that woke her seems familiar. She might have loved the speaker, in her scrambled past life, the woman in the purple helmet, the one called Lotus in her HUD vision. Her surroundings are a ruin of some sort. Her body is—

...what?

She can move just fine. Her fingers and arms and legs respond with suspicious ease, given how long she must have slept to be this scattered upon waking up, and yet there’s some fundamental disconnect. This is her Warframe, her body, but it’s not her body somehow.

...wait, where did the term “Warframe” come from?

A Tenno, unnamed but intended to be Jhia on my end, wakes up on Earth at the very beginning of the in-game storyline. Since the tutorial has gotten an overhaul in recent months, I may have to modify even what little I have on this a lot.

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Midnight - Iconoclasts - poem - 280 and counting

been anything smaller than been anything

never been anything smaller than

“good morning, how’s miss grump doing today? i heard about that last mission...if you didn’t sleep well i can call you in sick, it’s alright-” “oh, shut up, grey”

there has never been anything

“oh, shut up, grey” “love you too”

smaller

“love you too”

than

A very fragmented, stream-of-consciousness-y poem meant to represent Agent Black’s failing sanity near the end of the game. The words of her famous one-liner (“there has never been anything smaller than me”) are interspersed, out of order until the end, with poetic descriptions of other characters and bits and pieces of a flashback involving Agent Grey.

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Heliotropism - Iconoclasts - one-shot - 1.1k and counting

Lily, though she’s superstitious, will have none of these self-important truths, none of these semblances of certainty when really all it is is wishing on Ivory and hoping for the best. She calls for Miss Andress instead.

A stout but severe woman with ten grandchildren and a great-grandchild on the way, Miss Andress is perhaps the quintessential matriarch: nurturing, selfless, brutally honest. She is the one the people of 17 trust when they feel they can trust no one else. Lily needs the kind of reassurance only she can give, with the authority of ninety-one years and the wisdom of two sons, one daughter, and some five dogs raised under her care.

When Miss Andress visits House 4, she asks Polro and Lily to each bring an object they cherish the most. For Polro it’s his largest wrench, pitted with use but still polished to a brassy shine; Lily surprises everyone by pulling out a tiny, unloaded stun-gun, and surprises them more by not explaining it at all. Miss Andress doesn’t question it. She just turns the two tools over and over in her hands, head bowed, squinting at them as if trying to read the secrets of the universe in the scratches carved into them by time.

Finally she straightens up and sighs, pushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. Her forehead is slick with sweat, though the night is cool outside. “I don’t know what she’ll do,” the wise woman says, heavily, as if delivering bad news. “I just know she’ll change the world.”

Can you tell I like backstory fic? This one is for Robin, with one short anecdote for each year of her life, up to age 17 and the events of the game. It’s also an excuse to world-build a bunch, lol.

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Arrhythmia - Crypt of the NecroDancer - one-shot(?) - 4k and counting

The creature didn’t say anything, just beckoned to the shadows. Before I could move, two other creatures came for me, sending the other humans - former humans? - scrambling away in panic. One landed a hard blow on the back of my head that sent me to my hands and knees, seeing sparks; the other said “Freeze!” and I could only watch as ice sprouted from the leaf litter, cementing me to the ground.

The one who’d hit me produced a dagger from the inside of its cloak. I tried to pull myself up, to do anything at all to keep myself from getting shanked, but it was no good. There must have been a secondary effect on that spell; my limbs wouldn’t respond. I felt the dagger tear cloth in the region of my back, and prepared for the pain.

It didn’t come. The creature cut a slit in the back of my tunic, then another. Neither one touched the skin at all. I can’t really describe what happened next - my brain was having trouble computing how my arms were in front of me, visible, unable to move, but it felt like the creature was pulling them through the gashes in my tunic, but that was wrong, they didn’t feel like arms at all.

“Holy fuck,” I heard someone say.

The ice holding me down melted into nothing as the spell wore off. I jumped back up, head spinning a little, ready for another fight, only to spot two flicks of scarlet in my peripheral vision. I spun around, but they moved with me.

I think I already knew what they were. I just couldn’t admit it to myself.

You’ve already seen this one, Nick, though I’m pretty sure it was well over two years ago. It’s a pile of old headcanons, some of them now outdated I’m pretty sure, about how Nocturna ended up a vampire in the first place and a little bit about how vampire society works. According to Google Docs, I’ve been stuck on this one since March 2018. Whoops.

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untitled (working title “adult citra meets an impostor bc what is self-control”) - Among Us - one-shot - 572 and counting

“I know. You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Having well and truly gotten their full attention, Citra continues, “God, I can barely imagine. Having to take a weird-ass host whose biology might even be toxic to you, I don’t know. Needing to get to a whole other galaxy, feeling like the only way to do that is by deception and death.” “How…?”

She sighs. “I told you, this isn’t my first rodeo. One of your kind saved my life when I was a kid. Since he’d killed Mom and Dad had been out of the picture long before, he stayed here and helped raise me afterward. It’s how I learned to pronounce...a few of your words, at least.”

“You missed the ‘H’ sound.”

“Isn’t that the one that’s literally impossible to do right with Terran anatomy?”

“Maybe. You think I know Terran anatomy all that well?”

Citra chuckles. “Fair point. You let us find your buddy and fix the ship, I’ll raise Xai when we get comms back and he can try and help you get home. Deal?”

I found an Among Us comic on Tumblr, absolutely ran into left field with it to make a couple of OCs, and then made AUs of those OCs because of course I did. This one is from a future scenario in which Citra (typically orange) meets someone rather familiar on a mission with the crew of the Skeld.

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untitled (working title “library of ruina but they adopt half the guests”) - Library of Ruina - length uncertain - 1k and counting

“And what happened to not caring about others because it’s a waste of time and heartache?”

Now it’s Roland’s turn to sigh. “I don’t care about him. I just don’t want the guilt of killing - look at him, he can’t be older than eighteen or nineteen!”

Raised eyebrow. “Finn will be twenty years old in fifteen days’ time. He is a legal adult. I fail to see why this should matter to either of us.”

“He’s fresh off his first Fixer license! I have years of experience! He had no idea what he was getting into when he signed that invitation and you know it!”

Angela fixes him with a glare that turns his stomach, his freshly remade body reacting to the memory of its sudden, and extremely painful, dismemberment. “I could quite literally hold your soul in my hands if I wanted,” she reminds him in an undertone of steel. “I must do the same for him, following the invitation’s guidance, or my entire plan will be lost, my coworkers’ sacrifices all for naught. Do not disappoint me or ask any more impertinent questions. You know what to do, and what will happen if you do not.”

Look, some of the people you fight in this game deserved so much better, okay? I came up with an AU concept where if a guest willingly concedes the fight and agrees to stick around, you can get their book without killing them. Finn doesn’t die; neither do Tomerry or Shi Association; all the former employees realize exactly what’s going on with Philip after the Wedge Office fight and manage to calm him down, avoiding the whole Crying Children situation. (And then Gebura makes him collect his jaw off the floor by revealing herself as the Red Mist.)

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The one that’s a D&D world concept doesn’t have anything concrete written for it yet. (Don’t read this bit if you might want to play in my campaign at some point!) Instead of your typical Forgotten Realms planar setup, the world at large would be called the Seven Spheres, each of them different in terms of climate, geography, native species and magic, etc. The First Sphere would be the most “generic” one (to our way of thinking) and the main setting of the campaign; it would also be the smallest of the Seven, its primary continent home to a former empire of dragons that spanned most of the Sphere until its mysterious fall a thousand years ago.

Now, since the empire fell, the dragons and their children have slowly been dying out. Best estimates are that there’s only a thousand or two left in the entire First Sphere, with fewer eggs hatched every decade. The player characters enter a world with pretty typical low-level quests to start with, but every so often, especially if they engage with optional story stuff (this would be a more roleplay-focused than combat-focused campaign), they get wind of changes in the air - a failed harvest here, an unusually hot and stormy summer there, a trade war once they start hitting mid-levels.

It mimics real-world climate change in all but cause. As coastal cities struggle to contend with rising seas and, more alarmingly, wizards all over the Sphere start to notice their magic falter and wane, the PCs’ goal becomes getting to the bottom of this. And what’s at the bottom is...your typical Nerd fusion of science with fantasy settings.

The Seven Spheres are not planes of existence in the normal D&D sense, but seven planets in the same solar system, each with its own ancient god far more powerful than any god in any mortal pantheon; the First Sphere is so named because it’s closest to the sun. These planetary gods are incredibly large and incredibly alien, thinking in geologic time and concepts far too broad and slow for most sapient beings to comprehend. A thousand years ago, the fall of the dragon empire was caused by an ill-advised ritual meddling with the god of the First Sphere’s natural process of rebirth, causing said god to die without a replacement.

It’s taken this long for the First Sphere to feel the effects because, again, geologic time - a thousand years is a blink of an eye in this kind of time scale. But now the ancient earth-magic that had kept the Sphere’s climate temperate and its magicians in business is failing. The dragons, as beings of magic intrinsically, have been failing all along. And now it’s up to the PCs, up at level 17-20 if not higher by that point, to figure out how to fix the situation and find a new planetary god for the First Sphere before the whole Sphere burns to death.

#bulletnick #wow this got long #you're right i did want to talk about all of them though

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garbagequeer · 5 years ago

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hey hello im writing a piece for laptop ensemble that involves sampling and i need the most repressed/tender/yearning quotes you got. just as gay and heart wrenching as you can. but also no pressure I know youre a stranger on the web I just feel like you post that kind of stuff a lot thank you bye

hope this isnt like too late school keeps me busy :( (also can you put a read more on asks? guess i’ll find out). i ended up choosing many quotes from the same texts cause im indecisive as shit but i’ll bold my favorites from those in case that makes it easier for you!

anyways first of all you can never go wrong w richard siken as obvious as that is. these are both from you are jeff

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

Let’s say you’ve swallowed a bad thing and now it’s got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you’re happy anyway, and that’s okay, it’s a love story

this one’s from planet of love (the format got fucked bc tumblr is not actually a finctional website but :/ )

I have a megaphone and you play along, because you want to die for love, you always have. Imagine this:You’re pulling the car over. Somebody’s waiting. You’re going to die in your best friend’s arms. And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down,you’ve memorized it,

from litany in which certain things are crossed out

I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re really there.Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live? Let me do it right for once,

sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud. Especially that, but I should have known.You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I sayor love me back.

We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too, smiling and crying in a way that made meeven more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but I just couldn’t say it out loud.Actually, you said Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying. No one will ever want to sleep with you.

from snow and dirty rain

I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.

that scene from when harry met sally where sally says:

One day I was taking Alice’s little girl fro the afternoon. I’d promised to take her to the circus, and we were in a cab playing “I spy” - you know, “I spy a lamppost”, “I spy a mailbox” - and she looked out the window and there was this man and this woman with two little kids, and the man had one of the kids on his shoulders, and Alice’s little girl said “I spy a family”, and I satrted crying, you know? I just started crying, and I went home

(like anyone else sometimes cries when u see a family doing something nice? is it because i want to participate in a sense of family of my own but have been excluded as a gay person from it’s portrayals and it makes me go :^( cause i dont feel there’s room for me there but i want there to be and i just have to long for this nuclear family heteronormative way of life that i’ve been made to believe is idylic? is it because my parents got divorced and my dad’s an ass and my mom is just a very angry lady and i want to re-do my own childhood? who knows. should we ban movies? yes we should!)

from maurice (ultimate source of tender)

“There was something better in life than this rubbish, if only he could get to it, love, nobility, big spaces where passion clasped peace, spaces no science could reach, but they existed for ever, full of woods some of them, and arched with majestic sky and a friend”

‘Did you ever dream you had a friend, Alec? Nothing else but just “my friend”, he trying to help you and you him. A friend’ he repeated, sentimental suddenly. ‘Someone to last your whole life and you his. I suppose such a thing can’t really happen outside sleep’

we are all so lucky i don’t actually own maurice in english this would just turn into me quoting the whole book

ee cummings voices to voices, lip to lip

the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid.

from virgina woolf’s letters to vita

7 september 1925

january 21 1926 vita writes

I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this—But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it …

and on january 26 virginia writes back

Your letter from Trieste came this morning—But why do you think I don’t feel, or that I make phrases? ‘Lovely phrases’ you say which rob things of reality. Just the opposite. Always, always, always I try to say what I feel. Will you then believe that after you went last Tuesday—exactly a week ago—out I went into the slums of Bloomsbury, to find a barrel organ. But it did not make me cheerful … And ever since, nothing important has happened—Somehow its dull and damp. I have been dull; I have missed you. I do miss you. I shall miss you. And if you don’t believe it, you’re a longeared owl and ass. Lovely phrases? …

from virginia’s diary, about vita on december 21 1925

I like her and being with her and the splendour–she shines in the grocer’s shop in Sevenoaks with a candle lit radiance, stalking on legs like beech trees, pink glowing, grape clustered, pearl hung.

from virginia woolf’s to the light house

What device for becoming, like waters poured into one jar, inextricably the same, one with the object one adored? Could the body achieve, or the mind, subtly mingling in the intricate passages of the brain? or the heart? Could loving, as people called it, make her and Mrs Ramsay one? for it was not knowledge but unity that she desired, not inscriptions on tablets, nothing that could be written in any language known to men, but intimacy itself, which is knowledge, she had thought, leaning her head on Mrs Ramsay’s knee. Nothing happened. Nothing! Nothing! as she leant her head against Mrs Ramsay’s knee. And yet, she knew knowledge and wisdom were stored up in Mrs Ramsay’s heart.

Love had a thousand shapes. There might be lovers whose gift it was to choose out the elements of things and place them together and so, giving them a wholeness not theirs in life, make of some scene, or meeting of people (all now gone and separate), one of those globed compacted things over which thought lingers, and love plays.

there forced themselves upon her other things, her own inadequacy, her insignificance, keeping house for her father off the Brompton Road, and had much ado to control her impulse to fling herself (thank Heaven she had always resisted so far) at Mrs Ramsay’s knee and say to her—but what could one say to her? “I’m in love with you?” No, that was not true. “I’m in love with this all,” waving her hand at the hedge, at the house, at the children. It was absurd, it was impossible

(fun fact: the spanish translation adds something that i’d translate as “one could not say what one meant / what one wanted to say”, which i really like and i was disapointed to find out isnt on the english edition)

It was love, she thought, pretending to move her canvas, distilled and filtered; love that never attempted to clutch its object; but, like the love which mathematicians bear their symbols, or poets their phrases, was meant to be spread over the world and become part of the human gain. So it was indeed. The world by all means should have shared it

from the great gatsby

I didn’t want to go to the city. I wasn’t worth a decent stroke of work but it was more than that—I didn’t want to leave Gatsby. I missed that train, and then another, before I could get myself away (…) Just before I reached the hedge I remembered something and turned around. ‘They’re a rotten crowd,’ I shouted across the lawn. ‘You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.’ I’ve always been glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever gave him

from kafka’s diaries

may 27 1911: Today is your birthday, but I am not even sending you the usual book, for it would be only pretence; at bottom I am after all not in position to give you a book. I am writing only because it is so necessary for me today to be near you for a moment

parts from a from a letter he wrote to oskar pollak on february 4 1902

When we talk together the words are hard; we tread over them as if they were rough pavement. The most delicate things acquire awkward feet and we can’t help it. We’re almost in each other’s way; I bump into you and you - I don’t dare and you. When we come to things that are not exactly cobblestones or the Kunstwart, we suddenly see that we are in masquerade, acting with angular faces (especially me, I admit), and then we become sad and bored. Does anyone make you as bored as I do?

then I fall silent and you fall silent and you become bored, and I become bored and it’s all like a stupid hangover and there’s no use lifting a hand. But neither wants to say this to the other, out of shame or fear or - You see, we are afraid of each other, or I am.

Of course I understand it. It’s boring to stand for years in front of an ugly wall and it just won’t crumble away. Of course, but the wall is afraid for itself, fro the garden (if there is one), and you get out of sorts, yawn, have headaches, don’t know where to turn

You often talk with her, not only for the sake of talking. You walk around with her somewhere here or there, or in Roztok, and i sit at my desk at home. You talk with her, and in the middle of a sentence somebody jumps up and makes a bow. That is me with my untrimmed words and angular faces. That lasts only a moment, and then you go on talking. I sit at my desk at home and yawn. I’ve been trhough it already. Wouldn’t that separate us? Is that so strange? Are we enemies? I am very fond of you

from his leters to milena

Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

jane wong. from clearing

We want to believe everything has meaning.Plums blossom over a power grid

and I am in love again. The shame of it.

from leslie harrison’s [sirens]

I’m not Penelope married to faith married to waitingbound in fine soft strands of silk dyed and stretchedin my world longing has teeth and fins has a tastefor blood longing is a room built entirely of knives

Lorde’s melodrama tour interlude

Don’t you wish you could go inside a heart, see the strings and atrium’s, everything beating and bleeding. It’s kind of funny, I spend almost every minute thinking about love. Being guided, and divided by love. But I’ve never seen it. It’s just a rumour, a comedown, an afterglow. I wanna see it, in colour. In the summer, I can almost picture it

from Andrea Long Chu’s on liking women

One day, you tell yourself, it will give you what you want. Then, one day, it doesn’t. Now it dawns on you that your object will probably never give you what you want. But this is not what’s disappointing, not really. What’s disappointing is what happens next: nothing. You keep your object. You continue to follow it around, stash it in a drawer, water it, tweet at it. It still doesn’t give you what you want—but you knew that. You have had another realization: not getting what you want has very little to do with wanting it. Knowing better usually doesn’t make it better. You don’t want something because wanting it will lead to getting it. You want it because you want it

ada limón, In a Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me

But love is impossible and it goes ondespite the impossible. You’re the muscleI cut from the bone and still the boneremembers, still it wants (so much, it wants)the flesh back, the real thing,if only to rail against it, if onlyto argue and fight, if only to missa solve-able absence.

i dont think i need to get into mitski songs because you probably already know but basically pink in the night/come into the water/once more to see you/in happy when she says if you’re going take the train so i can hear it rumble one last rumble/in i want you from the first verse to the first time she goes “i just need a quiet place where i can scream how i love you” (YES the card thing is very important)/the first verse of i will (w emphasis on everything you feel is good i f you wold only let you)/abbey/strawberry blond

sufjan steven’s futile devices obviously predatory wasp of the palisades you know the drill

was going to find some twin fantasy lyrics but i started thinking about famous prophets (minds) and like. emotionally left my body so. i wont be thinking about it or any other songs anymore it makes me too crazy

from frances ha

It’s that thing when you’re with someone and you love them and they know it and they love you and you know it but it’s a party and you’re both talking to other people and you’re laughing and shining and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes. But not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual, but because that is your person in this life and it’s funny and sad but only because this life will end and it’s this secret world that exists right there. In public. Unnoticed. That no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.

from ellen lee’s notes on twin fantasy that i revisit constantly

there’s no going back to deliver these words to the ones they were really meant for. That’s how heartbreak feels, I guess. It feels like your heart in between the teeth of someone who’s looking away. When you’ve lost your loved object, what happens to all the things you have to say to them? When they’re turned away, what happens to all the things that you couldn’t, but desperately need(ed) to, say to their face? He dissociates himself from his own romance until it becomes a fantasy. You have your bleeding heart, you have a finite set of memories — when nothing new enters and you’re unwilling to let go, then you have a fantasy. The loved object enters into you and transforms.

the journey home by dermot bolger(havent read this at all dont really plan to/dont know a thing about it either i just came across this shit like 2 years ago and i still think about it)

I wanted to hurt him; I wanted just to touch him. What I wanted I’m not really sure. If he had stopped and opened his arms I would have walked towards him; I would have sat on the kerb all night with him

adam b, sweet i have a (really gay) heart

i feel like my body is the extension of a lake. i feel really badabout not telling you the truth, sometimes. i feelreally small next to you. tall boys remind me of bean stalks.i wish i had your legs. i wish i could know your handsbefore i even touch them

aaaand i think that’s all i could think of and track down, hope this is actually helpful and not too long (i am indecisive no kidding). also ksjdfg it’s nice that you thought to ask me this and i did have fun going over all these quotes so thank you 💖💖💖

#answered #i hope this fits what you were looking for!!#and i hope read mores are working on mobile djfgk #c #thing #Anonymous

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peterpcrkcr · 6 years ago

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new but familiar | p.b.p. imagine

Pairing: third person female readerxpeter (bc it’s clearly a self insert, i’ll say it)

Words: 1.6k

summery: peter is taking a walk, thinking to himself about the world around him, when karen alerts him to some trouble ahead.

ENDGAME SPOILERS INCLUDED BELOW THE CUT!

So this was the new normal, a phrase that had little meaning before the big snap. Well, the big snap and then several smaller, but equally significant snaps that came after. Whatever the case, whatever situation, the world was forever changed. People lost only to come back in this new normal. Their loved ones five years older, five years moved on.

The trees were taller. The wind had changed. With less people the air was cleaner, the water too. But everyone came back.

Peter walked down the street, headphones in his ears trying desperately to get lost in the old 80’s hits. Something about that time period felt familiar. Maybe it was just the good music that felt right. The rest of it was rough, if he was being honest. Not like he was there.

Peter was now 16 again. He hadn't not been 16 during those five years, he'd just been in a sort of deep sleep. A resting place until it was time to wake again. Now he had to adjust with the world that had aged around him. Luckily, most of his friends had also been sent to the resting place. He wasn't left to graduate as the new kid.

Liz Allen was now 21. So was Lincoln and Cindy. Sally was 20 because she was a year younger than everyone else. But the point is they'd grown up in the half a planet while Ned, and MJ, and Peter, and Flash, and Betty had rested.

He shook his head at the thought. To be paused. Life halted. If he had the choice would he have wanted to age? Would anyone want to live in the world where you couldn't hit the breaks and wait for someone else who would never catch up?

“I could just travel back and-” he shook his head again. And what? Grow up again? Going back before the snap wouldn't change the fact that he got snapped in the first place so that idea was stupid.

Maybe he could change when he was born. No, stupid. Then he'd never have met Ned, or MJ.

Maybe his parents would've survived. Maybe Uncle Ben, too.

“No.” He said out loud, gaining the attention of someone at the corner of the crosswalk he waited at. They went back to the attention of their newspaper. Peter peered over their shoulder, the headline:

Avengers Bring Everyone Home, but at What Cost?

Peter grinned, let out a puff of amused air from his nose. That headline was a bit too on the nose itself.

Of course he'd want to have gotten out of the resting place. Right? Yes. Can't be selfish and ask for more time away. The population returning to normal also meant the return of bad. Of evil. Whether he liked it or not, he had to come back. The world needed him, and he'd never admit that, but it was the truth.

Peter made his way across the street, nearly got run over by someone in a car so eager to turn the corner they didn't look out for him. He was quick to adjust, though.

Once across the street he scanned the faces of people. Noticing rather easily if they'd been snapped or not.

People who had been look relieved. Almost excited to be back in the game of Life. Those who hadn't? They looked tired. Still sad, but relieved underneath the exhaustion.

Aunt May looked that way when Peter came home. Smothered him for a week before letting him go to school. Called off of work for the first time in 16 years to care for him, even though he was fine. In all honesty she did it for herself. The one thing since loving Ben that she did only for herself. Her boy had returned. Her sun.

Her son.

A puddle he hadn't noticed soaked his shoe and sock inside. Nothing worse than walking around with a wet sock in a wet shoe. It wasn't like he had been doing anything in particular anyway, so changing into the old suit for the rest of the day wouldn’t be a big deal.

An alley or a porta potty, it didn't matter so long as no one saw him go in. He just figured since the world was so wrapped up in itself and getting by that he could basically get away with changing whenever. Just about wherever, too.

He shoved his clothes in his backpack. Ditched his socks in a dumpster, set his shoes on top of his clothes, like a dork. He didn't think about it at the time, but doing that was just going to make his clothes dirty and wet too. Classic 16 year old boy.

16.

He sighed. Always 16. It felt like he had been 15-16 for years even before the snap, and the snap really just cemented that he would forever be stuck a teenager. Whoever was writing his life really should've figured out how to make what was usually the most upsetting and confusing years in a person's life go by faster because this was getting old.

Thwip.

Out of the alleyway and through the streets where whoever looked up and caught the site of him cheered. It didn't matter if they'd been snapped or not, people cheered when they saw him. He didn't live for the fanfare. He lived because he was lucky enough to. Too many people he loved had been lost to not appreciate every second he was gifted.

Thwip.

Around a corner, another. This was much easier than waiting for the crossing signal. Less death defying, if one could believe it, than using a crosswalk.

The music played in the mask, kept him from focusing too much on his thoughts. The mask was a really a gift in more sense than the literal one. If he didn't have it the world would be too much around to function.

Blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Birds and New York rats and tourists and cabs. A bustling city waiting to burst again. Peter sighed. This was home.

“Trouble ahead.” Karen's voice sounded over the music she'd lowered for Peter to listen. He stayed quiet, followed the ping she'd put on the screens. “Looks like a robbery of an old Oscorp Laboratory.”

“Of course.” He landed near the open hole that'd been blasted or busted in by who he assumed was the bad guy. “Nothing like a universal genocide being reverted to bring out the bad guys.”

He took three confident steps toward the entrance before feeling a shiver course through his body. He spun slightly on his left foot to stand sideways as a body flew from the hole. He watched the man in classic black robber garb roll over on to his stomach to cough.

“There's still three people in there.” Karen alerted to Peter who was just finishing up wrapping the man in webs. When he stood back up again to make his way inside, two other men dressed in black, ski masks and everything, flew out of the open hole in the wall. “One person now.”

“Who is it?” He asked as he webbed up the other two men, head turning periodically to keep an eye on the hole in the wall.

“I don't know. They're not reading on any of my databases. Maybe they're not from this planet.” Karen said, sounding a little worried.

Peter felt that shiver once again and stood, hands at the ready to shoot preventative webs at whatever came from the old Oscorp Lab.

A couple bits of rubble adjusted as the figure came out of the darkness and into the light.

Peter's furrowed brow softened. His eyes widened. It was a girl. Broad shoulders, strong arms. A mask over her eyes a la The Incredibles style. Just a navy blue ribbon with two holes in them to reveal her eyes. She stood at the top of the mount of rubble, hands on her hips, taking in a breath to release it contently.

“Scanning.” Karen said as Peter stood there silently taking the mystery girl in. He started to sweat. Hands shook a little as he relaxed his battle stance. It almost looked like her hair was blowing in a little bit of a breeze. He got lost in it. “She's 17. Her DNA is a match for-”

“Hey, Spider-Man!” She shouted almost accusingly as she stepped down from the accidental stage. He looked around as if searching for who she was talking to, like there was more than one Spider-Man. When she was close enough to for him to notice she was a little bit taller than him he blushed. “What are you doing here?”

“Fighting bad guys?” He suggested, looking around and the three unconscious men webbed up around the two of them.

“No, I just did that. I meant what are you doing in Brooklyn?” She tilted her head, hands still on her hips triumphantly. He finally met her gaze and felt warmth in his heart. Her eyes. They were familiar. Not the color or the size or the shape, but the person behind them. The soul inside.

New, but familiar.

“Where should I be?” He asked relaxing his shoulders.

“Queens.” She said knowingly.

“I mean, Queens has it's crime, but I think I'm allowed to go outside every once in a while, and I do my best work outside of Queens anyway, and what makes you say that i should be in Queens anyway?” He talked a lot when he was worked up. And he was worked up because she knew something she probably shouldn't.

“My grandfather told me about you.” She admitted.

“What about me?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Peter-” Karen said, but he shook his head to stop her.

“You were snapped.”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Does everyone know you're 16?” She asked.

“Wait a minute…”

“Peter, she’s-” Karen tried again, he spoke over her.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I'm the daughter of Michael and Jean Rogers.” She said. His eyes widened even more. “Granddaughter of Margaret and Steven Rogers.”

#peter parker #imagine #endgame imagine #not a fix it a continuation #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x female reader #spiderman x female reader #spiderman #endgame #avengers #karen mention #karen #my writing #lol!#spoilers

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ofstvtches · 5 years ago

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ROCKY LYNCH, MASCULINE NB, HE/HIM & THEY/THEM. ��— looks like SAMHAIN SKELLINGTON is attending AURORIA UNIVERSITY in auradon. they're the TWENTY year old child of JACK & SALLY SKELLINGTON, which means they're from THE ISLE. heard they're NURTURING & GENTLEMANLY, but can also be INFLEXIBLE & SELF-PITYING ; we all have our bad days. people normally associate them with SEWING NEEDLES REPAIRING A BROKEN DOLL , A BAG FULL OF BANDAGES, TRYING SO HARD TO BE TOUGH WHEN YOU’RE SOFT , SOFT HAIR HELD BACK WITH A BAT-SHAPED PIN.

❛ when you saw that little girl , and she was in the sandbox and she was crying , and you gave her your toy truck and I told you we couldn’t afford to get another one. you said , ‘ she should have it because she’s sad. she’s sad , mommy. ’ ❜ playlist. pinterest. to listen as you read.

lol u guessed it it’s me , again , by unpopular demand - i am so sorry. third muse already bc i can’t keep myself away from playing absolute CINNAMON ROLLS so that’s what u can expect from sam w/ a pumpkin spice twist. bc nightmare is my absolute favorite movie and ... halloween, motherfuckers. so as usual this will PROBABLY end up long bc i love writing sam so much so yeah , more below !

HISTORY

So as we know , Jack & Sally were sent to the Isle w/ the rest of Halloweentown for trying to steal Christmas ! And unlike Christmas , Samhain was not born in Halloweentown. In fact , he wasn’t even born - he was made.

Magic wasn’t a huge thing on the Isle - but a resource of science was Dr. Finkelstein , and despite the limited resources and technology on the Isle , the couple begged the mad scientist to create another child for them. And from Sally , it took a lot of convincing , but Jack was able to talk him into it.

It took even more of an effort to pull off , again considering the state of the Isle. But a good few months into the project and Jack & Sally were greeted with the cries of a tiny ragdoll baby boy. Keeping up with the holiday themed names , he was named Samhain - Sam for short.

He grew with multiple touch-ups from the doctor to simulate an actual boy growing up - every year , a check-up making him taller , stronger , etc. And in that process he started to look more and more like his mother , with her big eyes and stitched smile and patchwork clothes. But he grew up loved by his brother & parents - though it never quelled the fact he always wanted... more.

He was loved , he was coddled , and as sheltered as a child could be on the Isle. So , much like his mother , he took a habit of sneaking out frequently and trying to fit in with the other Isle kids , even though he knew he didn’t.

He just wanted to fit in. That was it. And it started off with him wearing large hoods and heavy clothes to hide the stitches on his body as well as masks to cover facial stitches. And while some other Isle kids found him odd and sticking out like a sore thumb , some found him cool. Some found him interesting. But nobody really knew what he was hiding - and it added mystery to someone so NICE , because Sam’s overall sweetness could rival that if sugar’s.

Curiosity only reached dangerous points though when Sam snuck out on night to camp out with friends - and when everyone else was asleep , one removed his mask , and of COURSE did Samhain immediately wake up. He didn’t stay to see the reaction of the other when revealing his stitches , too afraid that he’d be seen as scary or repulsive for what he was. And he ran. He ran back home , locking himself in his room , and those friends he routinely hung out with . . . well , he didn’t talk to them much after that. Because what if they knew , now ?? What would they think ??

Villain & Auradon kids coming together was a new chance for Sam to try and fit in - be more in his element. He was immediately acquainted with a magic-practicing individual ( could be an AK or a VK - this’ll be a wc ) who struck a deal with him to offer him glamours so he could look less scary. Of course , these glamours would have to be applied and would wear off until the next application , but it’d make him feel more comfortable - even though he WOULD technically be hiding who he is.

While Christmas , the elder sibling , would be sticking around in Auradon Prep , Samhain would prefer to move immediately to Auroria University to try and figure out who exactly he wanted to be , and how he could do that. Currently he’s majoring in Nursing , given he’s always had a rather NURTURING and charitable nature - never turning down someone else’s request to help.

CHARACTER & FACTS

So lemme get this one thing out of the way bc if I don’t I’ll be itching about it - but all my resources for ( the love of my life ) Rocky were made by me , and while they’re all from multiple eras from both R5 & TDE , I imagine Sam to resemble how Rocky looks around the post-Louder , Heart Made Up On You & Sometime Last Night eras ( basically from like 2013-2015 ). Here , here , & here for some references. I’m nOT DONE GIFFING THOUGH bc frankly I find giffing him therapeutic.

Now I don’t have a drawn reference or anything for this next part so we’re gonna have to use our imagination here but unglamoured , Sam basically looks like his mom in terms of the fact he’s a little ragdoll baby. Putting on a glamour doesn’t change his appearance much save for the fact the stitches disappear and he looks more human.

The glamour is an enchanted bat charm he wears around his neck that can also be used as a hairtie. And it has to be refreshed every so often , so he has to keep going back to whoever provided him with it so it doesn’t lose its effect.

He still has a backup mask just in case , and he’s been practicing with makeup if need be.

Personality-wise , the best one can describe Sam as is sweet and polite. I included tht Stranger Things quote at the beginning 4 a rEASON bc he’s honestly such a sweet kid and will give anything to anyone.

And also bc I imagine Sally as Joyce mom-wise so yEAH bt I digress.

He knows his manners and treats everyone with the UTMOST amount of respect , which makes it extremely easy to get along with him . He’s also maybe a tad bit too giving for his own good , since it’s incredibly easy to use that to one’s advantage and he’s so inclined to believe people have the best intentions. An optimist , even if it’s to a fault. And then when he gets hurt he just sits to the side feeling sorry for himself like “ :’’’(. ”

Now when I say he’s inflexible , I mean that Sam is a very ORGANIZED person who likes things to be done a certain way - like , he can never do anything without a plan , and if even something slightly goes out of what the plan pertains of , he panics. He’s a goody-goody and he’s afraid to break the rules , which is why he’s still hesitant to even do things with the friends who are more “ bad ” than he is.

Everything has to be done BY THE BOOK and if it isn’t then something is bound to go wrong and Sam’s too worried about that happening.

He’s also incredibly insecure about his appearance but I think I’ve hammered in that fact enOUGH ALREADY

But if he takes his glamour off in front u that’s like. A Major sign of trust. So beware.

Again as I mentioned he tries to hang out with kids with the lesser reputations because :

1.) He wants to give them a chance

2.) He wants to make sure they have a friend to look after them

and 3.) He’s so used to trying to fit in with the other Isle kids that he’s trying to be ‘bad’ himself but it never works out bc he’s so sweet and he can dress in skinny jeans and leather and shit as much as he wants but at the end of the day he’s still Sweet Lil’ Samhain.

One thing he’s always had a fascination with would be angels - he’s always believed in them , always though he’s had his own guardian angel watching over him somewhere , he’s always loved the idea of them. He has lots of angel decorations around his dorm as well as ornaments and stuff for the holidays. It’s also pure irony that he just so happens to be just as angelic in nature.

He’s also a big holiday person like the rest of his family and loves helping to decorate for events and stuff !!

One of his greatest talents is his ability to play both the piano & violin , and he’ll often do that if there’s a piano in common areas or so on. He’s also a talented singer , but he’s so used to putting that to the side , making him lack confidence in his voice.

i v much encourage u to listen to the song i linked i find his voice so....soothing.

Like his mom he’s also very good at cooking , sewing , etc. !! Often has to stitch himself back together if he gets hurt - you know , Sally style.

More basic facts are that his final height clocks in at 6′4 , he’s homoromantic homosexual , and identifies as masculine non-binary who doesn’t really care how you address him. He’s very chill. And sometimes he has to walk with a cane of sorts if his stitches are loose or if his legs are feeling especially weak.

but yeah that’s it on that end !!!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

So obviously - the person who provided him with the glamour. Only requirement is that ur character’s good at magic or something of that sort.

AND ALSO - I’d love the person who initially removed his mask !! Sam didn’t stick around to see them react to how he truly looked , so it’s all up to you on how this character feels. But he’s avoided them since that scenario.

Also , his group of friends around the time that scenario happened on the Isle. Maybe they’re a little more rough around the edges than him , but this group was always tight-knit. And then Sam lightning mcghosted bc he wasn’t sure if now they knew what he really was.

Ppl who think his whole sweet thing is fAKE bc we know it isn’t but it’s so easy to THINK it is.

Also would love some folks he routinely cares for maybe in the aspect of like. Bein their shoulder to cry on. Patching up a wound. Just being There for them.

Folks who in general just wanna know more abt him bc he is kind of a mystery !!

Would lOVE sb who his glamour wears off in front of and he begs them to keep his secret but instead they want him to try n be more comfortable w/ himself and who he is. Bc he’s a cute ragdoll let’s b honest he just. Doesn’t see himself that way.

Ppl who Sam crushed on at the Isle and deffo broke his heart bc life just b like that sometimes

Also present day folks who r just ready to break his heart bc again thats so easy to do

also once more i’m open 2 ANYTHINNNNNNG sam is my Baby(tm) and i’d lov any plots thrown his way !! will probs make another wc page for him like i’ve done w/ luke and am in the process of doing w/ trixie !!

#usoa:intro #abt tag tbd #and nOW i hop 2 do replies !#i hope u guys like this tho sam is like. one of my fav muses to write ever.#he's the perfect man bt also not a man.

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evotter · 6 years ago

Note

jan, march, sept + one of your choice, love. have a great day, u icon

thank u kyra i adore u

january: what was the first fic you posted this year?

the first fic i posted this year TECHNICALLY was the epilogue of a different path. the first standalone was chewbacca (aka my introduction to the jily world once again and i have such a soft spot for it)

march: do you listen to music whilst writing?

yes! pretty much always; if it’s not music, it’s a TV show.

september: share a comment or review which still warms your heart?

quite literally anything you’ve left on any of my fics BUT there are a few that i hold dear to my heart. i’ll post them under the cut cause they are LONG :’)

ancient: the first fic you ever posted online?

hahahaaaaaaa. it was my own version of rick riordan’s the son of neptune before the actual book was published. it was on ff.net, and the first chapter got 7 reviews, and i felt so good about myself after that lmfao. who knew i’d still be writing 8 years later?

ask me questions!

OKAY so i have 3 top favorites:

from a different path:

okay so i had seen this in someone else’s bookmarks the other day, thought it was an interesting concept—especially since i too love slytherin!percy and strongly subscribe to ofswordsandpens’ headcanons about it—but didn’t give it another thought until i was listening to a video about the cursed child and went: wait, there’s a percabeth hogwarts au that i saw somewhere. and immediately i hunted this down and i’m just in awe? i tore through it. belatedly, i realized that i made a mistake: i didn’t write down my thoughts as i was reading, which is definitely a disservice to you. however, here are a generalized list of things that i loved.

first of all, with hogwarts au’s, there are three main aspects that i look for: plot, characterization, and quality of writing. normally, fics of this size lack one or more of these key factors, but i was astonished to find that the plot is tremendously tight and intriguing (my lip bled from biting it so much because i’ve been stressed to the max), you write these characters with such distinct voices i can easily picture them saying everything—except, of course, now in a little british accent—and your writing flows so well, it feels almost like i’m reading an actual harry potter book, just with percy and co. you also do a masterful job of weaving together aspects of the pjo universe with the established canon of hp.

and there are so many specific things that i love. primarily, the way you write the relationships in this story; not just concerning percabeth (though i will get to that in a minute), but also with each of the interactions between all of the characters. i applaud you for how you handled luke/annabeth and rachel/percy, and the friendship among them all is just incredibly well done. i especially love how well you wrote connor and zoë and just, a lot of characters that i don’t often think about when i think of pjo. grover and percy’s friendship especially is heartbreaking, i just. he’s so protective because he loves his friends and holy fuck i also love how you wrote grover in this. but i just adored how you wrote annabeth/percy—the love between them, both platonic in its early stages and the romantic all throughout, was doubly apparent. i ached when they kissed each other’s cheeks, and i inwardly cheered when she kissed him in the locker room. there was just such a natural progression, to me, of their relationship. and man did i dig it. i’m excited (and maybe a little scared) to see where you take their relationship in the future.

boy, this is getting long. sorry. but some more just little quick things: loved the b99 reference, with both of their competitive natures playing out in a similar way to jake and amy’s. i kind of want to go back and see if i can find any other references that i missed because i was just too engaged in the story to catch them. also, zoë’s death killed me all over again, thanks for that. i like how you’re working the kronos plot in, and i can’t wait to see how the Final Battle plays out. what else? oh! professor hestia? beautiful. eventual maybe professor percy? outstanding. percy kissing the top of annabeth’s head? breathtaking. rachel being a quidditch commentator? earth shattering. (truly i cackled when i saw that.) mrs. o’leary being a cat? incredible. how you incorporated percy’s water powers? stunning.

ooh, this exchange was beautiful and had me cackling it was so in-character:

“None of us are dying.” Connor clarifies. “Not you, not me, not Annie, not the rest of us.”

“I might have to dispute that.” Annabeth says, from Percy’s other side. “Call me ‘Annie’ one more time, Stoll, and I’ll kill you myself.”

Connor only grins at her. “Sorry, love. No more ‘Annie’. Can I call you Beth?”

“No.”

“Anna?”

“No.”

okay, so i just finished chapter nine and i am blown away. sorry for how long this comment was, but a fic of this magnitude truly warrants it. i can’t wait to see what happens next.

i leave you with just two words: “holy shit.”

from a different path:

god, oh my god, am i the only dumb bitch who didn’t get what the prophecy was??

anyway, i stumbled on this fic last year, patiently waiting for its completion, and now that i’ve rediscovered it, i’m so glad i finished it all in one go! i couldn’t imagine the tension of waiting for the next chapter, especially since the tension is so well-crafted!! i hardly noticed the tonal shift even as the story got darker and darker as it led up to the war, and in that way i was reminded of how extremely similar it felt to reading the hp books for the first time! you nailed percy very well i might say, and the awkward-yet-caring relationship he has with his dad. i daresay you gave connor and zoe more characterization than rick riordan himself, and the percabeth you wrote is perfect to the nth degree. i appreciate that you didnt bother with all the love triangle and unrequited feelings nonsense as well.

but i have to say, even as i cried at sally and paul’s wedding, or at dionysus’ quiet mourning for castor, what really struck with me most was the way you handled silena. for that, i have no words. that was a job extremely well done. thank you so much for blessing us with this fic.

from chewbacca (a comment from u!):

A girl in a bright yellow hooded raincoat stumbles into the cafe on one of the slowest nights James has ever seen. Her coat is dripping all over the floor he’d just cleaned (but it’s fine) and when he leans over the counter he sees that her boots match the coat.

First of all!!! Thats the best opening line in the world and nobody can convince me otherwise. I want to become a publisher just so that if you ever write a book, I’d be able to publish it. ( like omg, what an honor??? )

She looks like sunshine, standing there with the amount of yellow in her wardrobe. Briefly, James wonders if that’s her favorite color. It’s got to be.

Im going to quote this whole fic but I really love these lines? Like, you have this distinct style of writiting that I aim to acheive and you’re literally such a rolemodel!!! These are my favorite kind of fics to read. Funny story but I was going through a ‘no thanks Jily’ mood ( a horror, i know !! ) but your fics are just,,,,exceptions? You could write about trash and I’d love it and ask for you to sign me up.

“Say it again, but convincingly this time.”

ooof this dialogue??? let me breathe

This is the longest he’s stood still since he started working. It’s actually a miracle.

and the funniest person award goes to YOU. also, the most talented and cutest but thats neither here nor there.

james taking care of fleamont, switching off the lights gives me just a nice and realistic vibe? its so simple but i love how you added it.

honestly at this point, ive been sucked again by the fanfic. it feels less like a fic and more like a masterpiece that belongs in a museum but anyway.

“James is supposed to be helping.

James is on his phone.”

ugh i love ur mind. im rereading and its so nice and lovely. even if its like 1am and im exhausted, this fic is sustaining me.

“Do it off the clock, would you?”

PEAK HUMOR

have i mentioned how much i love that scene with euphemia? she seems like such a lovely mom. i love ur euphemia the most. and ahh, both of them just rushing to the hospital ? another 100% good scene.

“Euphemia smiles too, but looks at Fleamont rather than at her son. “Yes,” she says. “It really does.””

fic? or shakspeare? HMMM

A girl in a bright yellow hooded raincoat stumbles into the cafe on one of the slowest nights James has ever seen // “Get fucked.”

the fic!! has made a circle!!! i love how it begins and ends along the same lines. I really want to know how??? are you so talented im in love.

i just really love this fic, okay? i love how james is just the kindest, lily is allowed to have feelings, its just so soft and warm. and it makes someone feel loved, want love anyway.

the dynamic between the characters are just so real and great and im astounded, in short.

your sirius is everything. so many fics potray him as a dick??? which is first of all #rude and also, not at all true. you made me love these characters even more so i sincerely hope you never stop writing.

you’re such a beautiful writer and the way you string words together is just poetic and gorgeous and all the other good adjectives you can think of. i read your spiderman x reader too and i was a goner for you. EVERYTHING YOU WRITE IS SO GOOD. i read it so long ago but i can vividly remember peter whipping the mask off and she just going wtf stop on the window ledge. what im trying to say is that you leave this lasting impression on people that make them remember random scenes and words / prose long after they’ve read it which is a remarkable feat, i believe.

and im so sorry im not on tumblr rn bc i cannot keep recing this fic but i have told my friends about your writing and they loved it too. you’ve got like a million fans. when i do get back from my hiatus, im going to keep recing your fics and people will cry because their universe will shift thanks to the newfound joy of your presence in their life.

lastly, im more of a dog person and that, more than anything, should tell you how much i love this fic. i love u. and basee on your writing, i want to hug you, be your best friend and make you cookies bc again

WOW

#thelaziestgeek #answers #friends!#<3

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tywvin-archive · 6 years ago

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creator tag meme!

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc!) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2018. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original!) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

i was tagged by @maiaroberts and @arthurpendragan , thank you guys! <3

this moana gifset i just adore and that i’m still sad about because it didn’t get as many notes as i thought it deserved

these mulan posters i created for an event on @/fandomaestheticnet!

these soc posters i made in a rush and ended up loving much more than i expected!

this four horsemen of the apocalypse edit that is one of my all-time favourites!

this alina starkov edit that leigh bardugo herself reblogged and that i didn’t expect to be half as popular as it ended up being!

tagging @lavndertown , @savsastark , @branwellcharlotte , @lokiofasgcrd , @helenstroy and @rosaeles ! if you’ve already been tagged or done this, i’m sorry!

more tags under the cut!

hug game!

i was hugged by @savsastark who i love a lot and want to hug back <3

i’m hugging:

@rosaeles who i love very much and hope to see happy more times because she’s one of the most wonderful people ever

@helenstroy because even though we don’t talk a lot lately i miss her

@lokiofasgcrd who i miss and admire a lot!

@kleopatrar who i miss LOADS ( where are you kleo? :( )

@daenerya who is an awesome person who deserves all the good in the world <3

@oscqrwildes who i just recently started talking to but appreciate a lot! <3

@ninazeinik who i adore! <3 miss you malia :(

@ginecra because feri is an amazing person and definitely deserves a hug <3

@nycs (hi deena ily!)

@leejordan because i still haven’t wished sabrina a hny and i’ll take the chance to do it now!

@arthurpendragan who is an amazing creator and an even better person <3

misc tag!

tagged by @ginecra <3

[rules : answer the questions in a new post and tag ten blogs]

age: 17

birthplace: spain

current time: 8pm

drink you last had: water

easiest person to talk to: myself? i’d say my dog but he’s not a person sadly :(

favorite songs: drift away by dobie gray! and long tall sally by little richard too

grossest memory: too many, and too traumatising too, but i’ll go with stepping on a living roach last summer as i was walking to the cinema

horror yes or horror no: horror yes but i’ll cry afterwards

in love: kinda

jealous of people: less and less everytime! which is good :)

love at first sight or should i walk by again: i do sorta believe in love at first sight tbh

middle name: won’t say bc i hate it DESPISE it more like

number of siblings: one

one wish: to fucking end all wars on earth at once idk what the hell we’re doing

person you last called: my mum

questions you’re always asked: "how are you doing?” HORRIBLY brenda thanks for asking tho! school is fine but my mental health is just on the verge because y’all transphobic as fuck! ;)

song you last sang: shelter by years and years

time you woke up: 5am because i couldn’t sleep :/

underwear colour: blue lmao

vacation destination: g r e e c e

worst habit: measuring my worth in terms of other people’s opinion

x-rays: i’ve had them twice or thrice???? if that’s what this means???

your favourite food: i’m boring but pizza probably. or cheese! i love cheese

zodiac sign: capricorn

music tag!

i was tagged by @legohlas , @arthurpendragan , @daenerya and @mindfulelys !

rules: list the 10 songs that you currently cannot stop listening to and then tag 10 people.

cringe by matt maeson

new rules by dua lipa

shelter by years and years

love of my life by queen (rock in rio live)

the other side by hugh jackman and zac efron

mambo no. 5 by lou bega

ain’t got rhythm by yes phineas and ferb it’s a fucking bop and y’all know it

ymca by village people

this is me by keala settle

all for you by years and years

misc tag #2!

rules: answer and tag people you’d like to know better

I was tagged by @aesthetic-ravenclaw ! <3 thank you <3

nickname: john, ele

age: 17

gender: male

astrology sign: capricorn

height: 165cm aprox ig

sexuality: bi as hell

Hogwarts house: slytherin!

favourite animal: dolphins and cats

average amount of sleep: sleep? idk her

number of blankets: as many as my body can stand

dream job: activist

when I made this account: march 2018

relationship status: got a wonderful gf :)

favourite colour: dark green

lipstick/chapstick: nah

3 favourite foods: pizza, salad, cheese

song stuck in my head: thank u, next bc it popped up on shuffle

last song I played: ^

top 3 tv shows: game of thrones, hannibal, the handmaid’s tale

last thing I googled: olly alexander

fandoms: woooow too many

time: 8pm (8:20 but)

i was tagged by @branwellcharlotte thank you ♥

are you named after someone?

kinda (it’s a long story)

when was the last time to cried?

yesterday lol

do you have kids?

nah man i’m 17

do you use sarcasm a lot?

what do you think

what’s the first thing you notice about people?

if they’re left handed or not lol

eye color?

dark brown

scary movie or happy ending?

gimme angst!!!!

any special talents?

i can find the border in tape pretty easily if that counts?

where were you born?

spain

what are your hobbies?

making artsy stuff, reading, writing, watching shows!

do you have any pets?

YES A DOG I ADORE!

how tall are you?

165cm i think

what sports do you play/have you played?

i played basketball when i was younger but i don’t anymore

favorite subject?

ancient greek

dream job?

activist

#me #thanks for tagging me! <3

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thelastspeecher · 6 years ago

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A while back, I started writing the scene in the Superhero/villain AU where Stan meets Pa McGucket, bc I love writing villainous Pa McGucket so much. I never got around to finishing the scene, though.

...Until today. Enjoy.

Stan opened the door to Angie’s hospital room. He proudly held up the cup of water he’d been sent to get.

“Took me a while, Ang, but I-” The words died in his throat. While he’d been gone, Angie’s family had arrived. Both of her parents and all five of her older siblings were crowded around her bed, cooing over the newborns. Stan recognized Angie’s mom, Sally, her older brother Fiddleford, and her twin, Lute, but the others were strangers. Angie smiled weakly at him.

“Stan, this is my fam’ly.” Stan nodded. “You’ve met my ma.” Stan nodded again. “My pa’s the one holdin’ Danny.” The middle-aged man who had Danny nestled in his arms scowled at Stan. He looked eerily like Lute, a fact that didn’t ease Stan’s nerves. Lute was very explicit about his less-than-charitable feelings towards Stan. “Basstian is-” Angie continued. Her father put a hand on her shoulder.

“Junebug, why don’t ya wait on the introductions,” he said smoothly. He handed Danny to his wife. “I want to have a talk with Stan, first.”

“Oh- okay,” Angie stammered. “Sorry,” she mouthed at Stan. Mr. McGucket marched over to Stan, grabbed his shoulder, and shoved him out into the hallway. Stan’s brain kicked into overdrive at the display of aggression.

Okay, his power is plants, right? He can control them? Yeah, that’s what Angie said. Mr. McGucket dragged him to an isolated corner. And his name. What’s his name? It’s somethin’ weird. Mr. McGucket crossed his arms.

“Explain yourself,” he snarled. Stan held up his hands placatingly.

“Look, Mearl, I-”

“It’s Mr. McGucket to you, boy,” Mr. McGucket spat. A nearby potted plant sprouted a few new leaves.

Yep. His power is plants.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Mr. McGucket continued. “Gettin’ my daughter pregnant, weaslin’ yer way into her life, and then not even gettin’ her to the hospital in time to give birth.”

“Hey, I’m pissed about that, too,” Stan shot back. “I didn’t want my brother to deliver my kids. But Lute didn’t believe me when I said Angie was in labor.” Mr. McGucket seemed taken aback.

“Lute’s fault? Is that so?”

“Yes! My brother’s doctorate isn’t in medicine, why the hell would I want him involved when my kids were born? Angie and I had a plan. I would fly her to the hospital since she couldn’t fly and there was construction. But my coworkers called and insisted that I come help, and I couldn’t get out of it. Angie was still barely in labor, so I thought I would be back in time, but then things started happening fast, and like I said, Lute didn’t believe me, and by the time I got back home, I missed the birth of my daughters.” The words tumbled out of Stan like they tended to around Angie’s disapproving relatives. Stan caught his breath. He waited for Mr. McGucket to respond.

“Hmph.” Mr. McGucket took off his glasses and idly polished them with his shirt, a carefully neutral expression on his face. “That’s a fair point, that ya missed yer daughters’ birth. From what I’ve heard ‘bout ya, from both my wife and my daughter, that’s not somethin’ you wanted one whit.”

“No. I wanted to be there.”

“Mm-hmm. And Lute does have a tendency to not listen to folks if he don’t like ‘em.” Mr. McGucket put his glasses back on. “Stan, I’m goin’ to ask ya a few questions now, and ya need to be truthful when ya answer ‘em, okay?”

“I was gonna tell the truth anyways.” Mr. McGucket scowled. “…Yes, I’ll be honest.”

“Good. The first question I have for ya regards yer…career.”

“Okay.”

“If, fer some reason, somethin’ happened that made it impossible fer you to continue yer hero work unless you cut off contact with Angie and the kids, would ya stop bein’ a hero?”

“Yes,” Stan said immediately. Mr. McGucket raised an eyebrow. “I- I’ve actually thought about that. If the only way I could take care of Angie and my daughters was to stop being a hero and cut off all my ties with my squad, I wouldn’t even think about it. I’d just do it.” Mr. McGucket nodded slightly.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now, would ya ever try to make Angie switch sides, or raise yer daughters to be heroes?”

“No. Angie’s too proud of her heritage. All I’d do by trying to get her to become a hero is push her away. And we agreed that we’ll raise the girls neutrally, so that they can choose which side they want to fight for when they’re old enough.”

“Excellent.” Mr. McGucket crossed his arms. He leaned forward. “You seem to be pretty fam’ly-oriented, boy. My daughter said yer mother is a hero?”

“Yeah. Retired, but, yeah. She’s why I got into the hero game.”

“Hmm. Would she ever be a concern?”

“Angie and I haven’t told her that Angie’s a villain, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yes, it is what I’m askin’.” Mr. McGucket narrowed his eyes. “And yer father?”

“Out of the picture.”

“Really?”

“He kicked me outta the house before I was eighteen,” Stan said. Mr. McGucket leaned back, clearly thrown off-guard. “Not all of my scars are from fighting villains.” Mr. McGucket’s eyes widened.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Stan mumbled, abruptly realizing he had accidentally shared information even Angie didn’t know. He looked away.

Why did I say that?

“Stanley, what I just heard ya say was that yer father abused you,” Mr. McGucket said in a low voice. “Is that correct?” After a moment, Stan nodded reluctantly. “Goodness gracious.” Stan looked back at Mr. McGucket. Mr. McGucket shook his head. “That ain’t right.” Stan remembered a conversation he’d had with Angie a month ago.

“I’m just sayin’,” Stan said, handing Angie a sandwich on a plate, “you don’t really seem like a villain.”

“You need to widen yer narrow-minded view of the world,” Angie said, shaking her head. She rested the plate on top of her large baby bump. “I’m a villain, through and through. Always have been.”

“But I’ve seen how you and Lute fight. You never hurt civilians. You only target places that can handle it. And I’ve never seen you guys get involved in any of the really bad scenes, like drugs.”

“That’s how we were raised,” Angie said with a shrug. “My folks aren’t traditional villains. Sure, we break the law. Sure, we’ve infiltrated high levels of government before. But we don’t hurt those who are already hurtin’. We only injure those who get in our way. We don’t get our kicks from punchin’ homeless people. My siblin’s ‘n myself, we were raised with strong moral compasses. A sense of right and wrong.”

“You still break the law.”

“You said you noticed we never target mom ‘n pop stores,” Angie shot back. “Like I said, we go after people what can take a beating.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And if you want to talk ‘bout right and wrong,” Angie interrupted, “how ‘bout we discuss the heroes that kick out their kids? Not all villains come from villainous fam’lies. There are plenty of villains who were disowned by their hero parents fer not goin’ into heroism, or fer bein’ gay, or fer bein’ a dif’rent gender than they were given at birth. There’s nothin’ right about that. But the heroes get away with it. ‘Cause they’re the ‘good guys’.”

“How- how do you know that happens?”

“I’ve met ‘em. My fam’ly hosted a lot of runaways and homeless teens when I was growin’ up.” Angie picked at her sandwich absentmindedly. “My folks, they told us, ‘See? This is what happens. Heroes only accept those that fit their narrow views of what is right and what is good. Remember that we’re better than the heroes, ‘cause we accept everyone.’”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Mr. McGucket said, drawing Stan out of the memory. Stan stared at him in astonishment. “No child should have to grow up in a household where a parent lays a hand on ‘em.”

“I mean…yeah. It sucked.” Mr. McGucket nodded somberly. “But it also made me determined to do better than him. To be better than him. I tracked Angie down when I realized she was pregnant with my kid because I always wanted to be a better dad than mine was.” Mr. McGucket smiled.

“Yer a good guy, Stanley. And I don’t mean that in the sense of how ya fight my children. I mean that in the sense of what’s inside you.” Stan opened and closed his mouth silently. “I’ve known a lot of heroes who were bad guys. Took in some of their children, actually. There’s too many people what have only known a home filled with anger and bruises. I wanted them to experience one filled with love and warmth.” Mr. McGucket looked off into the distance, his eyes misty. “I’ve spent plenty of time interactin’ with heroes and villains. I know there’s no true moral consensus between all members of each side. There’s bad folks who are heroes, good folks who are villains, and, like some of my former coworkers, bad folks who are villains. Ya can’t trust what someone is like based on what side they’re on. Ya have to judge ‘em yourself.” Mr. McGucket patted Stan on the shoulder. “If my daughter had to get involved with a hero, at least she got involved with one of the good ones.” His smile was fatherly, his gray eyes twinkled with warmth.

“Th-thanks. Mr. McGucket.”

“Don’t mention it.” Mr. McGucket’s gaze hardened. “But you listen, and you listen good. If you ever so much as look wrong at my daughter or my grandchildren, you’ll be feedin’ the worms in my garden so fast it’ll make yer head spin.” Mr. McGucket paused thoughtfully. “Actually, yer head wouldn’t spin. Muscles tend to freeze up upon death.” He let out a chortle. Stan’s blood ran cold.

“I- I almost forgot for a second that you were a villain,” Stan confessed. Mr. McGucket laughed again. He squeezed Stan’s shoulder painfully.

“It wouldn’t be in yer best interests to forget that again,” he hissed. Stan nodded jerkily. “Good. Now, let’s head back to the room, and you can meet the rest of the fam’ly.”

“Can’t wait,” Stan mumbled.

#I seriously love villainous Pa Guck #he's still the loving wonderful fatherly guy he is normally #but he also breaks the law and has no qualms about taking people out #this was esp fun to write bc I got to write both of those sides of villain Pa Guck #Superhero/villain AU #Stangie #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Pa McGucket #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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dementedyouthx · 7 years ago

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TASK 04; INTERVIEW WITH THE PLAYER

❝ i’ll rip the wings right off your back if you dare to fly❞

Describe your character; How do you see your character in your own eyes and not based off the bio. How have you developed this character into your own?

when i say that i hold the teagues near and dear to my heart i ain’t lying. I lost a little muse for him but since I changed his fc i’ve found a whole new love and light for him. Logan Jeremy Teague is a broke soul simply put. He came from a terrible childhood where the monsters that were fear were none other than his dad. He saw the world through his mother’s eyes, eyes filled with hope and wonder but through the years that hope had been slowly crushed and he became the cold Logan we know today. He pushes people away because growing up no one ever really cared for him. He’s always be treated as a mistake and so he believed that. Logan took out his anger on the people around him because they treated just like shit like his father. The teagues have always been the laughing stock and freaks of Hallows Fall. They’ve always been shunned and for that all Logan ever had was himself and his siblings. But despite being so cold Logan is intelligent. He’s the smartest of his siblings and perhaps the most human of the Teagues. All he’s ever wanted was to be accepted by his peers and not be so alone. It’s where he separates from his siblings because Saddie and Beckham don’t care. They wear their shame with pride and don’t give a fuck about what people think but logan? He cares a lot. he pretends not to but he does. Honestly Logan is good underneath his hard exterior but only a few people get to see that

What’s your favorite thing about your character? what’s your least favorite?

Logan’s snappy comebacks are always fun but I would say the times where the softer side of him does come out. Those are nice times. I would say the worst thing he did was anytime he’s been like super mean to anyone like when he harassed flounder. sorry

What are some of your favorite relationships your character has formed? (Friendships, relationships, yada ya)

his relationship with his siblings literally will end me. like he acts like he hates saddie but in reality he cares so much for his older sister and he tries to protect her because of all the shit she’s been through. which is why he hates orion so much because he messes with his sister and that doesn’t sit right with him. They fight a lot because Logan cares too much about people and Saddie hates everyone who isn’t her brothers. As for Beckham, they’re the closest. Logan always stayed up late helping his older brother with his homework and protect him bc sweet baby beckham isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. the only thing is their relationship is strained now ever Logan became friends with the crew and started dating babette

speaking of, literally Logan didn’t think angels exist but now he does because he’s dating one. Honestly, Logan didn’t think a girl as beautiful like her would ever fall for someone like him but Babette saw past the monster and the wall and got to know the true Logan. She brings out the best in him and the softer side that he hid away long ago. SHE FINDS THE BEAUTY IN HIS DARKNESS AND I CRY. he’s so fucking whipped for her as well.

THE CREW. fuck i love them. Mushu is seriously a brother to Logan. Like he cares about him so much even though he’s such a dick to him. He looks out for bambi like he was his blood as well. Like Bambi is so pure and good and Logan is going to make sure he stays that way. And lady, well she had an infatuation with him because he was the bad boy but she’s turned into the mom friend for him and keeps him out of trouble or scolds him when he does. they’re just the greatest friends he’s ever had. lol no jk they’re faMILY.

and let’s not forget orion. Honestly, Logan is jealous of Orion. He doesn’t know that his shit isn’t all together but to logan it looks like he does. He has it all. The town worships and fears him. He has a lot and logan has nothing and the fact he used the teagues for his own enjoyment bc they’re the town outcasts bothers him too. idk they have to get along eventually bc axel and sophia end up together.

Has your character changed you in any way? Or do you yourself in yourself in your character?

I would say a lot of my resentment i hold for my dad comes out in Logan. his sarcastic, deadpan and witty ways are also me. Also the horror loving yeah. Logans i guess the part of me that’s afraid of rejection and change. You know we’ve both been hurt a lot and have shit after shit happen so we both just close ourselves up instead of letting people in. we’re both hard asses who are actually just big softies.

Do you think your character has had a big impact on Walt? Is it a good impact or bad?

back in the day in the past few years nah

Favorite thing your character has done and worst

uhm, i think my favorite thing he’s done is open up enough to allow more love in his life the worst...i’d say the fight he had with saddie lmfao

What is some progress you hope to have with your character in the future?

maybe be decent to the rest of the hallows fall people and just finally be himself and not such a dick but yeah he’s a dick regardless

What is one thing you would tell your character?

You deserve so much more than what you were given. There’s still time to rewrite your story and not be the monster in the book. you can be the good guy.

What has been YOUR favorite thing about walt?

having my best friend kaitlyn here, ily dumb head.

Has your experience been a positive one? (BE HONEST YO.)

yeh

Got a favorite memory? Share it!

the one time bambi, mushu and logan all went out to get drunk bc bambi was having girl problems with rajah lmfao

What are you looking forward too in the future?

3gen??? haha

Have you had a favorite event? Favorite plot? Share it right here

the 50′s event was pretty lit i’d like to bring that back

Favorite character that’s not your own and why

Orion - i’ve said this before but oh my god i have said before and will say this again because the way she writes orion is the best i’ve ever seen him played here. Like no one else can play Orion the way bre does. She could have easily wrote him off and put him into a box as the villain like most character like him are placed in but Orion is so much more than that. He has a soul and so much beauty to his darkness. There are layers to him. he’s vulnerable, he’s angry and he’s hurting. He’s only the bad guy because of the people around him shaped to be. there’s good in him too. Bre has put so much love and work into him and created such a beautiful unique character that I adore with all my heart.

Sally - Sally is so cute and has come very far in the past few years Arlene has played her. She was a shy sheltered girl when she first came to walt but now she has blossomed into a beautiful young woman and even though logan hates her but she’s a good bean. and her and jack are very cute.

speaking of Jack, I love him too. He’s filled with so much wonder and love and i’m sorry Logan is such a jack ass to him.

Ideas, shoutouts, request, dedications, questions? Put ‘em here!

still hold out for these shoutouts

#watask #WOW I LOVE MY SON

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