#I’m real proud of this y’all
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Marcille could survive Chimera Falin, Falin could not survive Scylla Marcille- let’s get that straight. The difference is that Marcille doesn’t get honed in to her monsterfucker tendencies until she sees Chimera Falin whereas Falin would have imagined Scylla Marcille hundreds of times and would have snapped upon seeing it in real life and went to go kiss her gf while telling everyone not to worry about Marcille killing like 5 people because she’s the wife
And you KNOW Scylla Marcille would be whipped for Falin, don’t play with me Ryoko Kui told me herself
#Scylla marcille would follow Falin’s every beck and call LOOK.#Marcille rips off her shirt and the last of Falin’s sanity snaps. she just looks at laios grabs him by the shirt points to marcille +#+ and says “I’m going in’’ and he gets it cause he’s a real one and is proud of his sister for chasing her dreams#monsterfucker touden siblings is gospel to me I’m sorry y’all have to see this#also debate in the comments/tags if you think Scylla marcille has a dick or not I wanna see blood people.#monsterfucker farcille is the truest form of farcille goodnight#farcille#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#marcille dungeon meshi#falin touden#marcille dunmeshi#falin dungeon meshi#marcille donato#dunmeshi falin#laios delicious in dungeon#laios dungeon meshi#laios dunmeshi#laios touden#laios touden delicious in dungeon#yuri#sapphics#lesbians#gay#queer
369 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gemma. It’s midnight:thirty.
If you want people to love your work, you have to SHARE IT. You ninny!
Stop. Stop using other people’s yardsticks to measure your value, they are disproportionate and not to scale for your life and experience.
You are successful. And smart, and talented. Bonk them gremlins.
And go. The. Fuck. To. Sleep.
I need to go watch this film again…Monsters Inc is so good.
#gemma rambles#y’all I had a pumpkin spiced mocha at 6 something and finished it at 9#I made a mistake#but I have to be on the road at 7:30 tomorrow#I’m not jealous of my friends’ success; I’m immensely proud of them#I am envious of it though#it’s a little stupid tbh#btw the difference between jealousy (fear of loss) v envy (want of something) is ingrained in my head#that’s a different post though#I want a bit of the success they have#not their success specifically#….this feels absolutely batshit to explain#I spent too long adding gifs#I wanted Sully signing go to sleep because it’s so real
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
little headcanon, werner is definitely a girl dad. like that’s his shit. he loves his girls, he would take his daughters fishing, to the beach, to ride his vespa (because he obviously owns a vespa), he would read to them every single book on the house, he would teach them engineering, mathematics and mechanics, and how to fix a car and would also dance with them and sing little lullaby songs for them. he gives big energy of girl dad, idc. he would probably be the only man in that house
#he would be so proud of his girls 😞#y’all the mariewerner brainrot is real and I’m spiriling in it#somebody get me out im sobbing#all the light we cannot see#werner pfennig
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
BIG DAY TODAY FOR ME AND I JUST WANT TO SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS ❤️
#i’ve been on a long recovery journey for the past 3+ years and after living with my mum for nearly two years#i moved back to my own flat today and i’m able to live independently again!!#i still have some way to go but this is a big step in my recovery and i couldn’t be happier#i’m feeling all the feels#i cried the whole way in the car and i burst into tears every now and then but only happy tears mixed with some tears of bafflement#it’s hard to believe this is real#also hearing my little brother tell me how proud he is teared me up even more ngl we don’t say those things out loud too often#i have the best family and i couldn’t have done this without them ❤️❤️❤️#there was also something very symbolic in that the last song that played on the radio in the car was Ruoska#and now i’m gonna boop the hell out of y’all <3#personal
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Snake in the Grass: Chapter 1
For @ckhalloween23's catch-all prompt: An Empty Grave
This is a horror fic I've been working on since May or June. Given my current pace, it probably won't be out until the latter half of next year, butttt since I have this first chapter done (and I wanted it to be done in time for Halloween of this year), I figured I'd go ahead and post this as a preview and a treat! Well, treat for you guys and me haha.
Content warning for alcohol, bars, and general spookiness.
Pool balls whizz & clack against one another, but the sound is mostly drowned out. The bar, while not packed, is bustling with life, as is typical for a Friday evening; the sounds of yelling, laughter, and glasses clinking fill the already cramped space. It’s the victory cry of men who have been itching for the work week to finally, finally, end.
Dim, warm lights mask dirty floors and mysterious stains of unknown origin that seem to infect any and every upholstered seat. The single TV crammed into the back corner behind the bar top has caught the attention of several men, all shouting and celebrating – or complaining – at every pitch of the game with gnashing teeth. The bartender scrambles to sling out drink after drink of who-knows-what for the night’s customers.
Johnny himself is seated at a round, wooden table shoved near the back of the room. It’s almost uncomfortably close to the billiards tables, and each shrill hit against the pool balls becomes harder to ignore as the night wears on. He’s got some good distraction, though.
He lounges in his chair with a Coors in hand, surrounded by his friends. Bobby sits at his right, sipping his bourbon, while counterclockwise from there are Jimmy, Dutch, and Tommy. It’s tight, mostly because they had to steal a seat for Jimmy, but Johnny doesn’t mind. Not a damn bit.
He takes a long, slow sip from his drink. He still can’t believe they graduated from West Valley six whole years ago, and yet here they are, still thick as thieves. It’s not the same as it was back in high school (images of late-night, high-speed rides on their Hondas and getting plastered on the beach come to mind), but given how damn busy they all are, it’s an impressive amount of effort to keep traditions & meet-ups alive – like these monthly get-togethers at the bar, for example.
Johnny half-listens to a light-hearted argument between Tommy & Jimmy about baseball players he doesn’t give a shit about. Dutch, caught in the middle, has decided to antagonize the two of them by playing devil’s advocate for both sides. Things are getting heated, but it’s nothing Johnny finds worth worrying about. A nudge to Johnny’s arm snatches his attention away, and he turns to see Bobby with an expectant gaze and a soft, tipsy smile on his lips. Johnny reciprocates the smile without even thinking; he can thank the fact that he’s at least a few drinks in for that.
Bobby’s eyes sparkle as he leans towards Johnny. His cheeks are flushed, and his breath is rich and yeasty, laced with just a hint of sweetness. He smirks at Johnny and says, “I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s your back doing, old man?”
Anddd there it is. Johnny rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he answers, “Well, I’m no longer bed-ridden, so there’s that. I think I’ll be good to go back in a week or two once Dr. Gates gives me the green-light. I’m not supposed to see her for another two weeks, but if I feel better before then, I’m gonna see if she can squeeze me in, see if I can get back to work sooner.”
Bobby raises his brows in a look of mock shock, but it’s accompanied by a wry smile. “Did I just hear Johnny Lawrence say he’s trying to get back to work sooner? Thought you had worker’s comp to fall back on?”
“I do,” Johnny explains, snatching the neck of his Coors. The glass is smothered with wet drops of condensation that leave watery rings on the tabletop. “Just turns out that worker’s comp isn’t nearly as good as a roofing job. Pays the bills, but man.”
Johnny shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer. The icy cold liquid feels like a blessing, and he sighs as the bottle leaves his lips.
Bobby shrugs a little awkwardly. He tries to reassure Johnny as best he can by reminding him, “Hey, at least you’re getting comp this time.”
Johnny frowns harshly and shuts his eyes for a moment like he’s trying to will away a headache. He sets his beer down with a soft thunk, and the moisture clinging to the glass is already dripping back onto the table. He glares at a nearby wall and mutters, “Don’t remind me.”
“I’m just saying,” Bobby starts with a warm smile, swishing the alcohol in his glass with one hand. “Not working under the table has its perks.”
Another round of loud cheers fills the room. Sounds like someone finally hit the damn ball. “Yeah, but the government also takes half my damn paycheck. Jimmy still hasn’t helped me figure out how to deduct all my taxes yet,” Johnny says, loudly pulling Jimmy into the conversation.
Jimmy turns away from his own conversation with Tommy & Dutch. He leans onto an elbow and smiles at Johnny, but it’s certainly not genuine; if anything, there’s a bite to it. He answers, “Just because I’m an accountant doesn’t mean I can magically fix your taxes, Johnny. Become a business, then we can talk.”
Johnny flips him off, earning a round of chuckles around the table as Jimmy rolls his eyes and relaxes back into his seat. Dutch points at Jimmy with his beer bottle and asks the accountant, “Speaking of, have you finally been let out of your cage? First time we’ve seen you in, what? Months?”
Jimmy sighs, and Johnny realizes that the polo Jimmy’s wearing is probably the most casual thing he’s worn out and about in a while. “Tax season is finally over. Thank god for that,” Jimmy trails off, and he takes a long swig from his glass.
Tommy eyes his friends and pipes up, “Too late for another round of shots?”
Another round sounds fucking amazing. Johnny instead answers, “I’d love to, but my wallet says no.”
Bobby chimes in, “My liver also says no. That first round was enough for me.”
Dutch’s face crinkles into disappointment as he boos Bobby from across the table. His chair tips back an almost dangerous amount while he does. He shakes his head and laments, “Ya think you know a guy, but then he goes to priest school and becomes a damn prude.”
Bobby glares at him as his grip tightens on his glass. “It’s called seminary, and I’m becoming a pastor, not a priest.”
Tommy snickers & nudges Dutch, giving him a mischievous look. He points out, “Didn’t say he wasn’t a prude.”
Johnny snorts, earning himself a Bobby-patented glare, which then sends him into a laughing fit. Sometimes it can genuinely be scary to be on the receiving end of that gaze, but most of the time (especially after all these years,) it’s become damn hilarious. There’s another vicious clack of the pool balls; the start of a new game.
“I hate all of you,” Bobby huffs. He crosses his arms and leans back into his chair, dragging his gaze across the figures of his (almost) drunk friends, who are still much more sober than half of the room. “Why do I even hang out with you assholes? What did I do to deserve this?”
Jimmy sips on his glass and looks at Bobby. His lips curl into a wry smile. “Be a prude?”
Johnny thinks he can see a vein bulge in Bobby’s forehead, and he has to stifle another snort. Bobby’s lips pull into a tight, frustrated line across his face. He finishes the last of his bourbon with a small gulp and slaps his palm onto the table so he can push himself out of his chair. “I fucking hate you. All of you. I’m getting another drink.”
He pushes his chair back in with his foot and starts to weave through the maze of people & tables, and Tommy smiles like a Cheshire cat and calls out, “Can you-?”
“No,” Bobby yells back as he crosses the bustling room. Tommy cackles in his seat, and Dutch follows suit, clapping a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and howling beside him. Johnny simply shakes his head and leans onto the table, resting on his forearms.
The wood sticks to his skin. He can only imagine how much dust is trapped under layers of sticky god-knows-what. Probably more than he realizes. It’s kind of gross to think about, but it doesn’t really faze him, especially when everything about this bar fits that bill. Not much about this place is great: the bartender’s a dick, the bowls of pretzels are stale as shit and few & far between, it’s impossible to find a seat without a weird stain on it, and there’s never more than two beers on tap.
That doesn’t mean it’s all bad, though. Johnny never has to worry about them running out of Coors. It’s a pretty good distance between all their places. The prices aren’t half bad, and hell, it doesn’t even come close to gracing their top ten list of “Shittiest Bars This Side of California!” So yeah, really not all bad, at least if you ask him.
Tommy’s hyena-like cackle grabs Johnny’s attention and pulls him back into whatever conversations he’s missed. “No, no,” Tommy starts, smiling wide. “I’m just- can you believe any of us actually graduated?”
Jimmy levies Tommy with a self-satisfied smile. “No, I actually can’t believe any of you guys graduated,” he teases. Tommy rolls his eyes.
Dutch scowls. “Yes, yes, we know. You made an A once and got into a big boy college, keep it in your pants,” He replies gruffly, finishing his statement with a swig.
“That’s not what I meant,” Tommy elaborates dryly while gesturing with his drink. “You’re not wrong, but think about it. Our senior year was such a shitshow.”
Dutch smirks and looks Johnny’s way. “I blame Romeo over here. Had no idea a breakup would lead to all that bullshit with LaRusso.”
Johnny stifles at the comment, and his cheeks flush – now red from more than just the alcohol – as he glares at Dutch. He’s about to bark out a comeback, but Bobby cuts him off when he comes sauntering back, freshly filled glass in hand, and retorts, “Oh please, we’re all to blame. We escalated it when we should’ve just left things alone.”
Bobby slides into his chair a little ungracefully, wood scraping against the floor, while Dutch shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He nods his head down a little sheepishly because… yeah. Bobby’s right, as much Johnny hates to admit it. Back at West Valley, they were all chomping at the bit to put the twerp in his place, but none of that needed to happen or even should have happened. They saw red, and LaRusso got caught in the crossfire. It was like they didn’t even see him. Just a conveniently placed punching bag.
The table’s air stills; the rest of the bar continues to thrum with activity while the atmosphere of their little corner slowly ices over. Johnny purses his lips and sips at his beer. Guilt gnaws his ribcage. Even after all these years, after the apologies and many, many steps to make things right, he’s still stuck with bitter memories that choke him up. He opts to study the many dings & scratches on the table rather than meet any of his friends’ eyes.
Jimmy’s the first to break the tense silence. “You know, if we have anyone to blame, it’s Kreese,” he spits out. It hits Johnny like a jab to the chest. He’s taken aback as Jimmy says this, but the man continues, “He put so much bullshit in our heads! All that punch first, think second nonsense. Like, come on-”
“Wait, wait,” Johnny interrupts while waving his hand to stop Jimmy in his tracks. How can he just say that? “Look, he was a total douchebag – I should fucking know – but we’re the ones who took what he said too far. We were still the ones who fucked with LaRusso. He didn’t tell us to do any of that shit.”
Tommy shifts beside him and stumbles over his words. “Yeah, like- but- Look, okay, you’re right, it’s totally on us for taking shit way too far, but Johnny,” Tommy says, and he turns to Johnny with pleading eyes. “He literally taught us to have no mercy. Literally. That’s not an exaggeration.”
Johnny frowns. “Yeah, but we took it out of context. He obviously meant to not take no for an answer, to- to keep pushing on despite the circumstances,” he explains. Are they seriously saying this shit? Even after all these years? After everything Kreese did for them? For fuck’s sake…
Dutch is next to speak. He throws Johnny an odd look as he adds, “Did we go to the same Cobra Kai? Because the one I went to taught us to do fucking everything to the extreme. Including the no mercy shit. Hell, he even had us do karate to the extreme. All those extra goddamn practices…”
“Yeah, and they were good for us. We needed some discipline!” Johnny snaps back defensively. His blood is starting to boil with every bullshit argument that his friends make.
He starts to bounce his leg. The sounds of laughter pouring out from a nearby table makes him want to snarl. He doesn’t get it, how can his friends just- just pass the blame onto Kreese? The guy at least tried to help them and make them into better people (before his sensei lost his mind, that is.)
Johnny turns to Bobby, who’s worrying his lip and squirming like he’s sitting on an anthill. “Come on,” Johnny says. “Back me up here.”
Bobby looks away from Johnny, jaw tense, but he turns back. He lets out a breath, look Johnny square on with a worrying level of sincerity, and says, “Johnny. Kreese worked us so hard once that you forget it was Ali’s birthday. She broke up with you over that.”
Johnny’s skin buzzes. He’s all too aware of the overpowering noise of the room. Hell, he feels like he can feel the next table over breathing on him. His stomach rolls. “That is not what happened,” Johnny insists with a hard stare. “Practice that day was not that bad. I remember it. It was fine.”
Tommy scoffs, “Then why were you so quick to go out drinking with us?”
Johnny’s more tense than a stretched-out rubber band, and he feels like he’s going to snap like one, too. He scowls and answers, “I forgot because…”
Johnny blinks and turns his gaze down. Sweat collects at the back of his neck while his chest tightens.
“No, I-I forgot because…”
His mouth is a cotton ball. He’s reaching into his mind, searching for the memory, but he just… it’s not right. It’s there, but somehow, it also isn’t. He remembers being brought in for an extra practice with his cobras, Twig being brought in to watch & help, the end of practice, getting ready to leave, and then…
His temples throb as tries harder to remember, but he can’t. There’s a gap, a void where something should be. It’s not like he’s just forgotten the details, god no. He’s actively reaching into his mind, searching and grasping for what should be there, sandwiched between the sparring and the night at the bar, but he just… He can’t. He can’t get there. Every time he thinks he’s brushing against what might be the memory in question, a pulsing throb shakes his skull, and it rattles his train of thought loose.
His eyes dart between his friends. His heart pounds furiously against his vice of a ribcage, and he wipes his sweaty palms against the thighs of his pants. Their faces are a varied array of distress and confusion. Why do they look like that? Are they trying – and failing – to remember, just like him? Shit, why can’t he remember?
A chill threatens to run down his spine. Could he ever remember?
When he was fresh off the breakup with Ali, he would spend hours torturing himself with all the ways he screwed things up; it was his way of trying to nail down exactly what he did wrong. Except… he always left that practice turned night-on-the-town alone. He never touched it, to his knowledge. Is- Is this why? Every time he tried to play the events over in his mind, would he get to this downright anomaly of a gap in his memory, and did it make him feel- well, make him feel like he does now? Sick and shaken?
Is that why he never, never thinks about the inciting incident that led Ali to yell at him and tell him things were done? Did the avoidance become muscle memory at some point so he would never try to recall that night & the memories associated with it?
He knows the answer. He doesn’t like it.
It doesn’t even feel natural. It’s not like he just forgot; no, it’s more like something was ripped out unceremoniously or maybe strangled and hidden in an unreachable corner of his mind. Does it matter what type of wrong it is? He wipes the sweat from his brow; the heat from the crowd of the bar tonight has finally caught up to him, it seems.
His mind circles back. Why can’t he remember? Why is there a gap? How long has it been there? Has- has it always been there? And not just any gap. No, a gap that, when he tries to recall upon what should be there, snaps up & bites him like a cornered animal. His head is throbbing. He fumbles for his beer and takes a long drink.
He looks again to his friends. He can only imagine the expression on his own face given theirs. He takes a chance and says, “Please tell me I-I’m not the only one who…”
Bobby slowly shakes his head, eyebrows knit, but he doesn’t meet Johnny’s gaze. Jimmy and Dutch don’t move; they simply squirm and keep their eyes down. Tommy’s chest is heaving as he sits up straight and looks ahead with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Johnny knows they must be in the same boat as him. They have to be.
Tommy answers with a shaky voice, “Who what?” Johnny almost drops his mouth wide open. Tommy’s asking that even though the man isn’t meeting anyone’s eyes and looks like he wants to run out of the room?
“Who what? What do you mean who what?” Johnny asks incredulously. “Who- who can’t fucking remember what happened that night!”
Tommy’s smiling, but it’s strained. He answers, voice as tight as his lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Johnny grips his Coors so hard he thinks it’s going to shatter in his hands. “What do you mean what I’m-? You know exactly what I mean. Look at us! Look at yourself! Something’s not right.”
“Johnny,” Bobby pleads. At some point he rested his forehead in his hands, elbows on the table. “You’re- you’re not wrong, but Christ-”
Johnny turns to face Bobby with an eager gaze. He cuts him off, saying, “You can’t remember, either. It’s not just me. Something’s wrong.”
Bobby sighs through his nose. He’s getting frustrated; it’s a tell Johnny knows well. “No, Johnny,” Bobby says shortly. “I can’t remember. But I don’t want to. God, I just… I think I can speak for all of us when I say let’s just drop it. Please. I don’t want to think about-”
Bobby’s practically pleading, but Johnny doesn’t care. What’s more fucking important: a little bit of discomfort or the fact none of them remember the same exact damn thing?
Johnny cuts him off again and snarls, “About the fact there’s a fucking gap in our memories? The same gap for all of us, I’m willing to bet? One we’ve probably had since that night?”
Bobby shuts his eyes, and Johnny’s not sure if the man is going to cry or punch him, but given their shared history at Cobra Kai, it’s probably the latter. Dutch speaks up next, snapping, “Johnny! Just drop it! Yes, our memories are fucked, big whoop. I don’t care! I don’t want to think about it either! I don’t know about you, but I don’t like trying to remember and feeling my skin try to crawl off my body.”
Johnny drums his fingers against his bottle. He can’t fight the scowl on his lips. “Seriously? You’re just going to ignore this? Just like that?”
Dutch laughs bitterly. “Seems like we’ve been doing that for years, man,” he says with a shake of the head, but he pauses and looks Johnny straight on. “You know what? Hold on, let me ask you something. Let’s say we do talk about this shit. Have a little pow-wow and Agatha Christie our way through this bullshit. What the hell would we even do? Seriously, how in the fuck would you even recommend we- we try to fix this? Please, share with the class!”
Johnny opens his mouth to answer but shuts it tight in that same instant. His cheeks flush again. He genuinely has no idea where to start, actually. He does know that if they work together, they might have a shot, but Dutch writing him off with that cruel smile makes Johnny want to scream.
“Exactly,” Dutch says like the self-assured bastard he is, gesturing at Johnny with his drink in hand. “We can’t do shit, and since we’ve gone this long without thinking about it, why stop now? Sounds like none of us want to think about it, for christ’s sake.”
Johnny’s throat is tight. He can hardly believe what Dutch is saying. What Tommy and Bobby have been fucking saying. His blood pulses under his skin, and he turns to Jimmy, almost begging, “Jimmy. Come on, back me up. We can’t just pretend this never happened.”
Jimmy doesn’t look him in the eye, and it’s enough to make Johnny’s heart sink. The brunette swallows, lips turned downward ever so slightly, and he hesitantly answers, “Look, I-I’m sorry Johnny. I can’t. Why don’t we just… let sleeping dogs lie? All remembering does is hurt, and we can’t do anything about it, so why can’t we just…”
Johnny screws his eyes shut tight and flexes a hand in and out of a fist a few times. He brings his Coors to his lips, takes a healthy gulp, and slams the bottle back onto the table with enough force to make his friends jump a little. He glares at them all. He can hardly believe all the bullshit he’s heard tonight.
“Why can’t I just what? Drop it? Why aren’t you pussies willing to do anything about this?! It’s not right! Something is fucking wrong, and you just want to act like nothing happened!” Johnny says. His voice is starting to raise, and he’s getting the attention of a few nearby patrons, but quite frankly, he doesn’t give a shit. Fuck ‘em. “What is wrong with you guys? Who gives a fuck if it hurts to think about it! Something is wrong, and it sure as hell wasn’t just forgotten. It’s gone. Or- or it’s there and we just can’t reach it but- Who cares! It’s still weird as shit, and you’re all just pretending like nothing fucking happened like a bunch of pussies!”
Bobby attempts to soothe him by saying, “Johnny, please, I don’t think this is as bad as you’re saying.”
Johnny feels his muscles tense, and he swears to god, he might break a tooth from how hard his jaw is clenched. He gets tunnel vision for a moment, only able to focus on the traitorous words that just came out of Bobby’s mouth, and when his vision clears, everything is suddenly too much again – screeching pool balls, wails & shouts from the crowd around them, the way his body is vibrating under his skin. He has to fight against the urge to throw & shatter his beer bottle on the ground (likely only because he’s not done quite with it yet).
He can’t believe that Bobby of all people would say that to him. Talk down to him like that. That simple sentence rubs him raw like coarse sandpaper dragged his skin. It conjures up painful memories of his mom brushing aside his pleas for help and, on occasion, Kreese asking him through a sneer if he’s a loser. And worst of all, Bobby knows this, better than anyone else. He’s been the one to listen to Johnny rant and rage about being brushed off and ignored. He knows how that phrase sets Johnny’s blood alight.
Johnny chugs the rest of his beer in one fell swoop and steps out of his chair so fast & hard it tumbles. He doesn’t even bother picking it up. He bites out, “Fuck this. I’m going home. I don’t give a fuck what you do. Pretend for all I care! Don’t come crying to me when this shit blows up in all of our faces.”
Johnny ignores Bobby’s protests as he begins to chase after the taller man, trying to get Johnny to talk to him or whatever. Johnny can’t talk to him, won’t. He can’t even look at him right now. He grits his teeth as he weaves between people, and the longer Bobby follows, the more certain Johnny becomes that he really might start swinging.
Johnny has to shoulder his way into an open spot and wait for the bartender to slide by, but flashing some cash is all it takes to grab his attention. He feels like his skin is going to vibrate right off his body, and he snaps at some asshole sitting beside him who tells him to watch it.
Bobby catches up to Johnny as he’s trying to pay the bartender, worthless platitudes tumbling out of his mouth, and Johnny hisses through clenched teeth, “If you don’t lay off, I’m gonna knock your teeth out, I swear to god.”
It works as intended. Bobby steps back, startled and wide-eyed. Johnny knows he looks a little wild right now, but he just does not care. He feels like he’s one wrong word or move away from snapping, from saying & doing shit he’s going to regret. He just wants to get out of this fucking bar and away from his shithead friends.
Johnny breathes a small sigh of relief when Bobby accepts defeat and slinks back to the table stuffed in the back of the room. He always was the smartest of the five of them. He knew when it was time to leave things be before it blew up in their faces. Johnny thinks of Daniel, and he feels a little sick, but it’s replaced with another wave of hot, tepid anger again, the same kind that haunted him all through high school.
With his tab paid, Johnny shoves his way out of the bar, other patrons throwing protests, swears, & a few obscene gestures at him, but Johnny makes himself ignore it and pushes on. If he starts to pay attention and care right now, even a little, he’s probably gonna get the cops called on his ass, and he just- he can’t deal with that on top of everything else tonight.
He opens the bar door with a hard shove, and the chill night air washes over him. While the streets are neither silent nor empty, it’s still much better than the bar, and he feels his chest loosen enough that he can breathe again. He stomps over to his Avanti, and halfway through sticking his key into the door’s lock, he decides that he doesn’t have enough beer at home to deal with this night.
#the karate kid#cobra kai#johnny lawrence#og cobras#horror#writing#my writing#snake in the grass#forgot to mention#this is set in a few years after TKK#May 1990 to be exact#I’ve so much work into this it’s not even funny#put so much*#I’m really proud of this ngl#wish I could let y’all know when it’ll be finished and out but#I’m hoping everything will be completely done and ready to publish by next Halloween#I’d say sooner but I’m going so slow rn#maybe I’ll be able to get some real writing done on winter break
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
If you had to pick your five most favorite scenes you've ever written in your fics, what would they be?
Ok time to answer this lol. It’s so hard for me to pick 5 scenes that are my favorite to write, idk why, I’m just an odd person. But I did ask some of my mutuals what their favorite scenes were & they gave me their opinions! (Thanks guys)
1. The tree comfort scene in the first book of LIAB. I remember that particular section of the story was really dark and tense & then POOF we had tree cuddles. It was the first time the boys were cuddly together before things were official between them. Idk it was a nice breath of fresh air before it all went to hell.
2. The first bathtub scene in RIA with Sokka confronting his scars and Zuko being there for him and washing him while trying to give helpful advice he remembered from uncle. That was fun & I know a lot of people enjoyed that.
3. I’d have to say I enjoyed writing Aang & Sokka first meditation scene in ITF because I love meditation & exploring the depth of the human mind. I also loved giving Aang’s character more depth than just a goofy kid. He is wise and experienced so it was nice to give him an area that he was skilled in that allowed him to slow down and help his friend.
4. I gotta say in RIA I liked writing Sokka destroying that RR with a stick. Not just the murder but the conversation leading up to it and the implications the man made and Sokka twisting that around to justify his actions. (Also the man took pity and took of his helmet to seem more human to the boy he was trying to bond with which was his ultimate demise.) & it was cool that on the other side of camp Zuko was also taking control of his situation and killed the archer RR.
5. Last but not least would be Sokka’s fever dream, I enjoyed writing it even though it made me incredibly insecure to post haha. I pack in a lot of strange weird symbolism & hidden meaning & foreshadowing that I just know doesn’t make any sense but does it have to? It’s a fever dream! Idk it was nice & Yue was there so that was awesome.
Soooooo that’s it I guess!! (I do have a few scenes coming up with Zuko & an adult that I’ve already written & I’m really excited about because oh thank god it’s a fucking adult talking to Zuko & he isn’t growling and he is actually SHARING?? whaaatttt??? ;)
Oh & I’m really excited about TWO adults who have some scenes together that make me giggle just thinking about them interacting but that’s future stuff)
Ok that’s it!! Yippieee
#thanks for the ask blueeyedarcher!#I also feel a small shout out should go for the fight scenes I’ve written#people say they were very easy to read lol#my secret is finding an anime fight scene that matches the vibe I want the fight to have#& then writing kind of what I see with small adjustments#it’s tedious#& time consuming#but it makes the words make more sense#like come on guys bato using zukos down hand to smack him in the face was priceless#own hand*#I ENJOY writing but I’m just insecure#I think posting online has made me more insecure#because it allows people to give their thoughts#& sometimes those thoughts hurt my feeling#& make me not wanna show my work online anymore#so I’m thankful you sent me this ask BEA#because it made me suck it up and be proud of a few things :)#you’re awesome I’m glad you enjoyed my reverse ask of the same question haha#thanks discord people who helped me pick#y’all are the real MVPs#blueeyedarcher#liab#ria#itf#ask
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here’s what I think. I think that Harry Potter is a great thing. I think that it used to bring me great joy, and sometimes, it still does. Yeah, there’s some faults with it, but there’s some faults with everything. Name for me one perfect piece of art. You can’t, can you? Cause perfection is relative and—
That’s beside the point. My point here is, I have no reason to dislike Harry Potter. It’s great. He’s great. The only reason I am disliking it right now is because J. K. Rowling is rude.
What I’m saying is that this lady created a thing that helped me through hard times, has make me happy, has connected me with my brother and my cousin, and she took it and dragged it through the dirt. She managed to take my childhood and make me look at it and go “ew.”
She did great things. Terrible things, yes, but great.
#Harry Potter#J. K. Rowling#all I’m saying is that she could’a been real cool#And she ruined that#So proud of my last line y’all#random rambles of my unhinged mind#farewell fellow humans
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
youtube
Made an animatic to my current favorite song right now. This is just what happens when you give someone a good freaking song and an idea…!
If you have the time, please give it a watch!
((Special thanks to @pazam as well!!!))
#THIS TOOK A BIT TO GET DONE#BUT I ACTUALLY CRACKED DOWN AND GOT THIS DONE IN THREE DAYS MAN#DOING ALL THE DRAWINGS WAS DEFINITELY A FEAT????#let me know what y’all think I’m actually really proud of it hehe#((also we aren’t going to talk about the misspelling of a word here :)))) we just aren’t))#I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO NOTHING BUT LISTEN TO THIS SONG MAN#ITS JUST NOT REAL. ITS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE.#STREAM NEATH! BY THE STUPENDIUM OR PERISH#not me just. casually loredropping in the form of an animatic#if you can even tell what’s going on I mean#I’ve been wanting to make an animatic with these guys for so looonngg#but motivation!! where was the motivation!!#tbh I’ve tried before but they always ended up unfinished#so this is refreshing to me that at least I know that I can get these done!!!#Forget-Me-Not#Nottie#Milagros#Rupert Snapdragon#Daisy-Mae#Tabitha#Cuckoo#Bliss#ocs#original characters#original stories#The Kiwi Draws#The Kiwi Edits#Youtube
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tyl / Celosia / Feather / “Purrheale” Featherwhisker
Allay of the Woodruff Faction (as of: the start of A Dream of Destiny)
A large, long-legged, very fluffy, senior mostly-white gray colorpoint jack with amber eyes and mourning dove feathers growing from their muzzle.
Wears poppy petals and leaves scattered throughout their fur; yellow headed blackbird feathers at their chest and shoulders; and an allay’s satchel at their side and under their forelegs. Ties the fur beneath their jaw with twine, and the fur on either side of their chest with twine and carved citrine beads; twin citrine pendants hang below each allay bag.
•─────⋅ᓚᘏᗢ⋅─────•
Littermate of Rhema Songfall†. Auncle of Monarchmask and Fritillaryheart. Ex-Partner of Willowfur of the Fenland. Ren of Willowpelt. Adoptive grandparent of Darkstripe. Grandparent of Bear.
Trained by Purrheale Sagewhisker† of the Fenland and Sors Goosefang†. Trained Sors Spottedleaf.
186 moons old (equivalent to a 77 year old)
Insightful, Practical, Gentle | ESTJ-A
Non-binary // Aromantic-Pansexual // (He/She/Theirs)
Vivec - The Elder Scrolls - Robin Atkin Downes
Name implies a fluffy cat who is sensitive and good at tracking.
#ITS SO LOW RES#WHY IS IT SO LOW RES#AAAGGHHHH#hopefully y’all can still read the notes T^T#also: all character cards are gonna have the headshots at the bottom now#cause I’m real proud of them and I want y’all to see them up close and in high res :D#old faces new dawn#ofnd: featherwhisker#the woodruff faction#featherwhisker#character card
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
me teaching my fiancé the names of all the seventeen boys: that’s jeonghan, he has the best cheekbones and the most gender
him: oh okay i got it now
#seventeen#jeonghan#real conversation we just had#y’all my fiancé is finally making an effort to get into boy groups a lil !!!#he can recognize hoshi dk seungkwan scoups woozi AND vernon !#i’m so proud of him :((( <333#i mean he also did pay a lot of money to come to the nct 127 concert with me#he’s the one. tbh#anyway#annabelle talks#svt#jh
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seeing myself at the top of these tags is doing things to me. 🥵
#if you know me in real life oh well y’all already knew#i’m very proud of this#and pride is a sin so a hot priest should absolve me of my sin#religious kink#hierophilia#religion kink#blasphemy kink#priest kink
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay but can I wrap up chiaroscuro this month now that I’m done my big bang?
#I was working on it today and I am EXCITED#ofmd#chiaroscuro fic#chromatophore fic#did I pick that name specifically because it felt like it was in conversation with Chiaroscuro’s title?#maybe#i mean it wasn’t the ONLY reason but#y’all go read my big bang I’m so proud of it#and if you like chiaroscuro you’re probably going to like chromatophore#real talk with menace
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
i am actually disgustingly proud of what i have so far for octavia’s fullbody im gonna post their bust to show on stage and off stage when i can bc i won’t be able to zoom in on their face otherwise when i do eventually finish their fullbody 3000 yrs from now SHSJSJ
#i’ve never been so motivated in my life to make more full bodies#i did not think i could make something look nice#the real test will be the clothes#clothes are so fucking hard#gonna rework my comm a bit too#mess with the faces and the anatomy#i redrew octavia fullbody at least 3 times over three days and that apparently is key who knew practice makes perfect har har#if y’all could see the original sketch fksjd girl it was ROUGH i can’t believe i’m so proud of this octavia doodle now when it started out#in absolute crisis#lmao
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Queen Frog has become a regular and beloved fixture in my evening garden. She’s beautiful and I would die for her 🐸👑
#I love her#she eats SO MANY BUGS Y’ALL#like seriously#I feel like my garden just leveled up#I’ve had ladybugs and mantises and bees#but a FROG????#UN FORG EN MY GORDAN???#*dusts lapels* Top tier gardener right here#I created a diverse enough microbiome to foster a fucking FROG#fuck I’m so proud of myself#considering that just four short years ago my backyard was nothing but river rock and astroturf#couldn’t even support a grasshopper#now……NOW#geckos and spiders and scorpions and beetles and bugs and FROG#magic#real world magic#I draw life forth from the harsh desert soil#don’t tell me I’m not fucking magical
0 notes
Text
Holy shit I love my job. Today is Tea loving her job day.
#its been so incredible like I finally get to do real work in my chosen field#and I’m absolutely in love with it like seriously y’all this job has revived my creativity and love of making art#that I’d kind of lost over the last few years post Covid especially#like I’m happy and excited to draw again it doesn’t feel like a chore or a huge daunting slog to get to something not worth it#I’ve found the joy & passion again I spent my whole evening tonight drawing for fun & making a Pinterest board full of references#so I can start doing some gestural anatomy studies#I’ve wanted to be some sort of artist since I was 4 years old & as a kid I settled on graphic design#because that seemed to be the best path towards making a career out of that#& unlike a lot of people who go into the field looking to just draw for a living#I’ve been so incredibly blessed to find that I actually really love graphic design specifically as a discipline#and holy shit y’all I think I may actually be good at it too#my coworkers are all really cool my boss is incredible she’s so kind#like on my best days I drive home smiling and I just feel really fulfilled#and even in the day to day ‘boring’ bits I’m still getting paid to sit there & draw & listen to music or podcasts all day#which is what I’ve dreamed of being able to do since I was like 12#I’m just really happy and proud of myself and I feel really good & secure about this aspect of my life right now#and honestly I could cry just thinking about all this stuff#like I really am just so amazingly lucky & I’m so happy & grateful rn#spilling the Tea#graphic design is my passion
0 notes
Text
Reminding everyone who sees this is a top notch banger person and I hope next year is prosperous for all of you
#I was doin ‘memory lane’ stuff by looking through my blog and I’m glad at least one development I’m proud of is becoming less neurotic#the community here is the best when I’ve never even met y’all but the mutuals are the real ones for being a positive influence on their own#I used to be here to ventilate feelings when they were too much but now I’m just here havin a good time#too much of a wuss to message you beloveds but y’all know who you are I’m sure#personal concerns
0 notes