#NO ONE HAS LISTENED AND TRIED TO HELP SINCE 2017 WITH THIS

[goldkirk]

CONTENT WARNING for weight loss (a percentage number) and mentions of throwing up

In other news I'm waiting impatiently for a GI appointment to tell them "hi I lost 15% of my body weight in six months and I throw up more often than once or twice a year now so can you please fucking listen and do something this time"

[ruiniel]

Please ignore the previous ask! Forgot to add the details, sorry about that!

Menstruation kink with Jealous! Possessive!Alucard and a female reader, with a healthy dose of blood drinking if you know what I mean 👀

Welcome and I mentioned on another day that I was feeling emotional, so this turned out a hurt/comfort piece rather... wanted to explore something here. And even with all the Alucard-centered smut written so far, sometimes I find that self-restraint is hotter. 🖤

Scent

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x fem!reader

Rating: M

Count: 2k

Tags & Warnings: Alucard POV, Pining, Anxious possessive Alucard, blood kink, period kink, period pain, cramps, hurt/comfort, fluff, light smut, grinding/non-penetrative stimulation, implied period sex

A single drop splashes the window, followed by another, and another. 

He raises his gaze from the manuscript in his lap, lip curling involuntarily as rain pelts the castle walls. Head falling back against the old cushioned armchair, he stares emptily ahead.

A gray, rainy, cold day rusty November brought. The fireplace has gone out. He has no need for warmth—usually tends it only for you, and you are not here.

Where you should be, the darker thought riles; he forces it down. The tendency to own, to curl around his own, is instinctual, but he refuses to give it power. 

Still, this feels wrong. As much as Adrian tried, he failed to quench the desperation and fearful thoughts taking hold: thoughts of returning to before, when no other steps, no other heart thrummed within these walls. The connection between you still confuses him, yet frantic with the freshness of a new bond. And the delicate nature of its novelty often creates an impression of fragility, as if it needs to be handled with utmost care. He tries.

But, the fact is, you’d been avoiding him for the past few days. Adrian sensed a change, and could not pinpoint why, but you’d been more reclusive, skipped sharing the meals you usually cooked and ate together, and the night prior you had an actual argument. Now that hadn’t happened since the early days of your struggle to know one another. Such a trifle, over a meaningless, petty thing, and still he feels like a lowly cur, wishing he could undo it all.

You’d retreated, and he’s not seen a wisp of you since. He’d beg you on his knees to forgive him if only you would see and speak to him. The more base part of him misses you like a man does sweet water on an open ocean. So many questions, and they all lead to the same wretched fears: what if you realized you actually don’t care for him as you thought? What if you wanted to leave? What if you’d met someone else in the nearby town, someone whose spirit is less scarred, less of a struggle, less… work? 

Adrian snaps the manuscript shut in his lap, leaning forward, sighing into his palms. 

He’s better than this. Grinding his teeth here thinking of the worst probable outcome, when he should… If you truly want your solitude, he will respect that—but he needs to hear it from your own mouth.

Attempting to keep a clear mind when wading through the corridors is a chore, and dejection weighing on his steps the closer he is to the door of your chambers. As he reaches to knock, Adrian takes a deep breath. If only to know for certain. That is all.

One, two, three. 

There’s no reaction from within, though he knows you’re there. He can hear the blood surging through your veins, ordained by your pumping heart. Not asleep, either, as far as he can tell. 

Adrian presses his forehead against the wood, a palm gliding down the carved surface. Such sweet music, luxury to the senses. For moments, he merely listens, then gathers his courage. “It’s me. May we speak?” Time warps achingly slow with the silence. “... please?”

“I’m not well today.” Your voice, beyond the door, slow and drowsy. 

The worry that grips him drowns the relief of an answer. Adrian swallows. “How so? Can I help?”

“No.”

“... can I see you?” He tries, waiting and hoping.

Silence again. He frowns, righting himself, preparing for a reluctant retreat. 

“Come in.”

He need not be told twice, slowly pushing the heavy door open and closing it behind him.

He’s been here before, or rather you’ve been here together. Near a large window is a bed and on it you lie, your back turned to the door. He notices you’re huddled in heavy blankets, and looking to the opposite corner, sees the fireplace here is out as well, ashy and dark. 

He calls your name, which yields no movement from your end. Adrian nears, and whatever words he had die in his throat when he perceives the familiar, sweet scent of blood. Yours. “Are you hurt?” In two leaps he’s rounded the bed, wanting to see your face.

“No.”

You’re staring blankly ahead, and Adrian cannot determine much, but you appear unwell, like someone exhausted after a sleepless night. “Please, tell me, I can… I can sense it,” he kneels by the bed, one hand reaching to feel your temperature—higher than usual, but not concerning. And the scent…

You finally look at him with reddened eyes before closing them and sighing. “Adrian… I’ll be fine. I merely need a few days.”

“A few?...” he finds your hand—cold as ice. 

Unwell, apparently weak, the scent of blood and—

Ah.

“Oh, my poor dear,” he murmurs, understanding, remembering.

You groan softly. Adrian says nothing else but rises and heads over to the fireplace. He sets to light a flame, then feeds it, and repeats until heat and a healthy glow emit from that corner of the room, dancing along the green sheets of your bed. No matter he doesn’t feel the chill—with the way you were wrapped and curled, you most likely do. It also provides him with an engaging activity, diverting his attention from the intoxicating aroma of your moon days, a sensation he never anticipated, let alone found thrilling and�� enticing?

Why now? You’d been living here for a while, and this never happened. Was it because you’ve shared yourself with him? He doesn’t know nearly enough about his own kind, apparently. 

Adrian leaves the room, wracking his memory on the way. He returns holding a tray with hot peppermint tea, a jug of water, and a bowl of harvested forest nuts. When he looks over to your bed, he sees you’d discarded the heavy blankets and are now sprawled there in your dark nightgown, your feet bare. It seems the chamber’s warmed now. 

He places the tray on the nightstand by your side as you follow his movements. 

“Adrian, you didn’t have to…”

“Shush,” he smiles, “Now, come, this’ll help,” he kneels by the bed, reaches for the teapot and fills a cup even as you drag yourself into a seated position facing him.

You take the warm drink from his hand, sip of the tea, sigh in relief. 

“Forgive me? For the other night,” he says, watching the face he loves, glad he’s doing something for you.

You reach and stroke his hair and Adrian watches you, eyes heavy lidded as your scent fills him again, emanating through your hand like a spell. His lips part in a soundless sigh. 

“I’m sorry too, I was… not at my best.”

“I understand, I do.” His eyes close as your fingers drift along his temple, his cheek, his jaw. “Do you wish me to leave?” 

“Of course not.” You look away. “I’m just... not very good company at the moment, as you can see.”

At that, he nuzzles into your hand, placing his own on your thighs as he rests with his head in your lap. He feels the caress of your fingers, and a deep yearning. He’s always been drawn to you, but now… “Believe me when I say I don’t care, as long as you’re here.” His heart is quickening, and he tries to control his breathing, palms rubbing your sides. Lust languorously weaves into emotions and devotion; thoughts of grasping those naked thighs while ramming into you intrude with vicious clarity, but he stays there, focusing on his breath, on you.

A whimper. “A-Adrian… your claws…”

His eyes snap open, and with conscious effort he retracts the talons he didn’t notice had grown. Adrian raises his head, slowly rises to his feet as you lie back down on the bed.

“Will you hold me?” you ask.

He could die here and now, gutted by the question and the look you’re giving him. He rounds the bed, removes his boots, and crawls over to your side, bringing you close enough that your back is pressed to his chest, his arm secured around your waist. “Are you in pain?”

“Ugh…” you nod, then take his larger hand and bring it to your lower abdomen. 

Without thinking, he presses into the softness of your flesh, while curling around your body until you’re flush against him.

“That feels good, you’re warm…” 

He runs slow, circular motions around your belly, trying to soothe the cramping ache of your body. “There, there,” a kiss to your ear, “It will pass,” a kiss to your neck. 

His hand glides to your thigh, legs tangling with yours. If only he could melt into you—yes, that’s what it feels like. There’s nothing closer to describe it. And what a selfish fool he’d been, thinking of his own fear and misery, while here you were. More kisses, short, more like soft pecks on the skin of your neck, your shoulder.

Your hand glides over his own as he runs it over your abdomen again, your lower body arching into his.

A soft groan escapes him. His chest is heaving when you turn, offering your mouth—soft lips, tasting of peppermint. He kisses them. Eyes fluttering closed, Adrian sucks on your flesh with quiet abandon, wanting you and wanting you and wanting you.

“Mmh—” you sever the kiss, staring at him with half a smile on your face. Your hips are slotted against his, and you surely feel the hardness of him against your softness. “You… enjoy this?” you ask.

For a moment, he feels shamed: he’d failed to control his own body, let himself be swept by need, and you’re hurting, so this is the last you might want. “I… yes,” he admits. “It does things to me. You, like this… but what about you?”

You stare at him, smile, and kiss him again, to his surprise. “I need you close.”

The warmth of the fire blazes in the room, hot enough that he can bare your shoulder and more, not breaking your gaze as he cups a tender breast in his hand. You partly turn towards him when Adrian leans to take the hard nub between his lips, sucking with relish, hand moving down to tenderly massage warmth into your abdomen, hips grinding slowly against yours through the thin night shift. Your soft moans spur him on, and soon your skin glistens from the heat and the added attention he gives your body.

He imagines it’s your hot cunt he’s feeling when he thrusts against your clothed form, become harder and tenser by the moment, until something gradually coils in him and the steady movement, the sweetness of your taste as he licks into your mouth and the scent, god the scent…

It’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s—he moans hotly into your skin, lips pressed to your shoulder when the flare of pleasure bursts within, swaying his vision; holds on to your hip, hugs you closer as he deliriously cums in his trousers.

“... fuck.”

All he’s able to say. He would eat into you and hide into you and this is not the outcome he expected, but then he’s weak and needy, and doesn’t deserve you. 

But you’re smiling, lips plush from his kisses. “That much, really?”

A nod, his face buried into your neck. “Everything about you is… divine.”

You fall into silence as Adrian kisses your cheek, then reluctantly disentangles himself from you to leave the chamber. He returns after a short while to feed the fireplace before he joins you again, taking you in his arms. The flames crack and layer a golden sheet over you both.

“You know…”

“Yes?” He’s still drunk on you, high on the primordial state of afterglow and the intimacy of your nearness, the visceral need to keep you safe and protected, especially now.

“I’ve heard of another way to help ease some of the discomfort,” you say and sit up in bed, gazing down at him. 

“Oh?” 

In your eyes dwells a spark, and suddenly Adrian feels your want, feels it beating in your womb. Slowly you straddle him as he lies prone on the bed, gathering the nightgown around your bare legs, his hands already on your hips. 

“I have need of you also, Adrian… if you want to!” you add swiftly.

A long, heavy breath escapes him. “God… yes,” Adrian leads you down to him, kisses you deeply, licking at the softness of your tongue. He’s slow to turn until you’re the one on your back with your legs crossed around his hips. He grins, already hard again from the mere thought of it, resting his forehead against yours. “Let’s… help you… feel better.”

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [42]

chapter forty-two, act five: the ballad of me and my brain

masterlist

November 3rd 2017

Tommie had woken up alone in Phoebe’s apartment, with many missed calls and texts of people asking if she was okay.

Her brows had furrowed and she’d hesitated to call Adam back first. He’d called her eleven times, and although they haven’t spoken since that day he came to the apartment she still worries something is wrong.

Her mind goes to her grandparents, but she spoke to her nan yesterday. They were on their way to a trip to Tenby in the caravan with the dog, they’re fine. Unless something happened on the trip. 

Nan can’t swim. Granch got sick. Or a heart attack, or an accident-

“Tom? Tom, thank god, are you still in LA-?”

It’s then she realises how late into the LA afternoon it is, her clock reads one o’clock and she realises she’d probably been up way longer than she should’ve been writing away until her heart's content (until she passed out from exhaustion).

“What’s going on?”

“Matty’s missing.”

This is the first time she’s heard his name in months, and her heart stops.

She sits up straighter, both Button and Max looking up at her in question. “What?”

“We tried to stage an intervention, shit-” She hears him sigh, can hear Ross and George arguing in the background with another voice that sounds a lot like Jamie, “He took off, a few days ago, he’s been doing it alot lately, he’s never been gone this long.”

“Where are you?”

“San Jose.”

She sighs and climbs out of bed, putting her phone on speaker and setting it on the bedside table. She grabs a pair of jeans from the chair she’d thrown them onto last night, getting a random t-shirt and throwing it on quickly, not even bothering with the effort of finding a bra. She does however, go to the effort of saying goodbye to the two dogs before shoving on her shoes, grabbing her bag that holds her essentials (keys, wallet, journal, lip balm, cigs, lighter and some other unnecessary shit.).

“I’ll come meet you, you in the place we stayed in last time?”

“No, we’re in the fancy one across the road you liked the look of.” She hears more arguing, and then a door slams, “It’s seven hours, Tommie, you- stay in LA, I just- has he tried calling you?”

“No, no he hasn’t. I haven’t talked to him since TRNSMT.”

Adam sighs, “He’s not himself, Tommie, I don’t know what’s going on with him. He’s in his own head, doing so many fucking drugs, Tom, I-” He sighs, she hears a sob-like sound get stuck in his throat, “We’re trying but he’s not listening, saying he needs to clear his head-”

Suddenly it dawns on Tommie and she pauses halfway down the steps outside of her building, “What has he said?” She asks quickly, fumbling to get the Uber app up as she walks down the street, “Tell me exactly what he said before he left, Ads.”

Adam sighs, stutters a few times as he tries to remember the conversation he had with Matty five days prior, “Um, something about the drugs helping him sleep, clearing his mind, helping him write and create, said that the drugs are his muse or some philosophical shit. I-I don’t know, Tommie.”

She watches her Uber pull up and puts the phone to ear, “Ads, I’ll call you back, don’t worry alright.”

“Tom, please don’t-”

“Don’t worry.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

The studio is a mess, clothes thrown over floors, crumpled up pieces of paper, cans of beer, coke and all different kinds of things ruin her path to the booth.

There’s a drum beat on loop, it's so loud she can hear it through the headphones and it almost drowns sounds of snoring from the curly haired musician.

He’s half on the settee half off, wearing only a pair of boxers and a large hoodie of their own band.

Tommie pushes her way through the mess on the floor that her hands shake to clean, she satisfies the urge for her hands to move by moving her foot to kick at Matty's side.

When he doesn’t wake she hits him harder and he gasps, curling over on himself, “Ow.”

“Get up.”

His eyes snap open at the voice and he sits up, fumbling to pull the hoodie down to cover himself and she rolls her eyes, “What are you doing?”

“Making music.”

She looks around, “Looks like it.”

She walks over to the mixing board and pauses the drum beat playing then looks back at him, “What are you doing, Matty?”

“Why don’t you call me Roddy anymore?”

She sighs and clenches her jaw, “You’re not my Roddy,” She tells him quietly, “I don’t know where he went, but… he’s been gone a while. I miss him, If you see him- if you see him, will you let him know?”

Matty rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair, “What are you doing here?”

“The guys are worried, so worried that they actually mentioned your name to me, which, I’m gonna be honest, I haven't heard since Scotland.”

“Bet you loved that.”

“I did, actually.”

He scoffs, eyeing her up and down, she crosses her arms and leans back against the desk behind her.

“What are you doing here, Tommie?”

“I care about you, Ma-”

He scoffs again harsher this time and stands up, “Don’t make me laugh, you’re the one who walked out on us all, remember? Back in July, picked up your guitar and ran off to LA like it meant nothing.”

“I- what did you expect me to do, Matty?” She asks, keeping her voice on a lower level despite his shouting a few minutes prior. “Did you expect me to sit beside you and hold your hand as you killed yourself I-”

She shakes her head and looks away, “You left us. Not just me, you left-”

“Just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t still love you.”

He pauses, mouth open as he was preparing to shout something else. Tommie sighs, hands coming up to cover her face for a few seconds. Too many seconds, although he counts his head, he reaches twelve, he still thinks it's too long for her to hide away from him.

“I’ll always love you, Matt.” She promises, she avoids looking at him and he takes a few more steps forward to get closer to her, “I love you too much to sit by and watch you do this to yourself-”

“So you left me? Made it worse-”

“You won’t listen!” She moves her hands away from her face to shove his chest. He moves back to arms length then. Just watching her.

She shakes her head, finally raising her voice, “You won’t listen to any of us, to me, G, Ads, Ross, your own mother who’s gone through the same thing, we’re all worried about you.”

“I’m fine-”

“No you’re not.” She tells him, “Look at yourself,” Despite his better judgement he lets his eyes glace to his reflection in the dark tinted window behind her, “You’re a fucking mess, Matty, and quite frankly it’s fucking pathetic.”

He lifts his head, looking at her down his nose, “Half the time you can’t string a sentence together, you’re passing out on stage, lashing out at everyone, you’re a mess, Matthew.”

His jaw quivers as he tries to keep his composure, “You’re so- so god damn stubborn, and blind. Look around, Matt, you have so many people here trying to help you, trying to love you and you just won’t let them. Why, because you’re scared?”

“You don’t know anything about-”

“Quite the opposite, “She bites back, “I know you, Matty, I know everything about you. I know everything about my Matty.”

She steps to him this time, lifting one hand ready to hold him, “Are you scared, Matty?”

He looks to the small coffee table in the studio, one they'd spent many nights gathered around with pizza boxes listening to music and telling jokes. On the table sits a joint, beside it empty packets that she doesn’t even want to know are inside of it.

“I’m not-”

“Matt.”

‘You’re in love with her but you’re afraid a guy like you will ruin her. And you will.’

He nods quickly, letting the tears welling in his eyes linger a little longer, “I’m afraid, Tom.”

“Of what?”

He shakes his head, mumbling something under his breath; neither of them can understand, “Of what?”

She shakes her head and walks closer to him but he fights her off, not letting her touch him, “I-”

“Matt-”

She watches his eyes dart to the door as he licks his lips, “I’ve got a flight.”

“Matt-”

“Tomorrow, I need to pack all my stuff.”

“Matty, please, just slow-”

He nods to himself as he gathers the only thing he brought with him, a little tote bag, her little tote bag. One from the record shop she likes in London. He shoves inside his wallet, phone, charger and notebook then starts stumbling around until he finds his jeans and shoes.

“Matty, would you please-”

“I’ve got to go-”

“Matty,” She huffs, trying to follow him around but his longer legs are moving too fast, closing up his laptop, stopping the demo, throwing the stupid memory stick with the song he was working on into the mess around them, “Matt, please, just stop for a couple seconds- Let’s talk-”

“Nothing to talk about, I have to go, seven hours to San Jose-”

“Matt!”

He still doesn't listen so she pauses as he opens up the door, “I broke up with Caleb.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

“Why’d you break up?”

Tommie watches him dip his fries into the red sauce and then shove them into his mouth as if he hasn't eaten for years.

She sighs and looks down at the table in the little diner they’re sitting at, she picks at the table cloth beneath them and leans back.

“Creative differences.”

He snorts and she finds her lips curling a little bit into a smile.

“Seriously?”

He shakes his head a little, “I always hated him, I mean, not just because of the whole you thing, but because he was a raging arsehole-twat-prick dude.”

She nods her head in thought, “I mean, he hated Deftones, you love Deftones, if I hated them- hell, if I uttered a single bad word about them you'd break my neck- literally! I can’t believe you didn’t break up with him over that. And one major thing you should’ve ran from was his love of country music, I mean, If I heard Jesus take the whe-”

“He got me pregnant.”

Matty pauses, fry mid air, mouth open ready to bite down on it, instead his gaze is settled right on her, missing the ketchup dripping down to stain the white table cloth on the table.

“What?” He looks down towards her stomach slowly and she shifts uncomfortably covering herself with her arms, “You’re pregnant?”

“I had an abortion, few weeks ago, that’s why I’m out here, Matt.”

“What did he-”

“He told me I had no right because it was his baby too, and threatened to tell the press.”

“Did he? I mean, I haven’t seen anything but-”

She shakes her head “I told him if he did that then I’d make sure his band never made it. Then I kicked him out of the apartment, cut my lease short and moved in with Phoebe.”

He hums in thought, picking at the table cloth.  

“I was so scared, Matt. I’m terrified of the thought of having children, of ruining my career, my life, not because I’m not as strong as other women or anything like that, or I won’t be able to do that. Because I just don’t want that-”

She breaths in slowly and tilts her head at him, “I wanted my Matty. Phoebe told me I asked for you, when I was out of it. Said I asked her to go get you for me.”

He looks down, staring at the heart shaped hole he’s ripped into the dining table cloth. “I was terrified of doing it without you. What were you scared of?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Matty, please-”

“Did you tell me that just to try and get me to open up?”

“Trade you.” She shrugs and leans over to steal a chip.

He sighs, “When Gemma broke up with me she told me some harsh truths, one’s that I needed to hear and I don’t know. I guess I just know deep down that she’s right. I don’t want to ruin you.”

She tilts her head, reaching across the table to set her hand on his, “You won’t ruin me, Matty.”

“I will. Cause you’re you, you’re a good person, Tommie. I don’t want to ruin you.’

“Matt-“

He shakes his head and stands, “I have to go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Matt-“

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

She looks around the mess in the studio. Now that he’s gone, that he’s back on his way to the rest of the band she can let herself go nuts and clean it.

She starts by cleaning up the takeaway boxes from the floor, then she folds the blankets and cleans the messy table.

Half way through cleaning up she finds the discarded memory stick he’d tossed aside. There’s a post it note wrapped around being held there with cellotape.

‘Baby, two.’

She lifts up the memory stick and then slowly puts it into the computer. 

There's a small sniffle and then a sighs as he strums a few chords. "Baby, two. Um..." He sighs again and shifts around, the leather chair creaks but is cut off as he clears his throat, "This is my deepest confession, I guess. This is for Tommie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about a lot, that it took me so long to realise and that when I finally did I'd already pushed her out. But, I don't want to hurt her, I don't want to let her back in-" He sighs again, "Anyway, this is take one. Baby, I don't have a title yet."

I've been watching you walk I've been learning the way that you talk The back of your head is at the front of my mind Soon I'll crack it open just to see what's inside your mind … Inside your mind

Marry me, I will wait until you're fast asleep Dreaming things I have the right to see Lately you are dreaming you're in love with me The only option left, is look and see inside your mind

… Inside your mind I can show you the photographs Of you getting on with life I've had dreams where there's blood on you All of those dreams where you're my wife

Inside your mind Inside your mind Inside your mind Inside your mind

She raises her brow at the deep voice but sits there to take it for a few moments taking it in.

Every moment between her and Matty has ever shared floats through her head. From meeting to starting the band, to being on tour, to living together, to that night in LA, to watching him leave yesterday.

She thinks over every decision she’s ever made.

Being with Caleb, never telling Matty.

Maybe if she just told him, if she’d let him know how she really felt none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have turned to drugs, he’d be safe.

Or maybe he still would have. And they’d be unhappy. Together but unhappy. And they’d hate each other.

They must be good. She wonders. The drugs, there must be something about them. Why else would he love them so much? More than her, more than the band.

Before she can stop herself she’s sitting on the floor, eyes not moving from the baggie on the table as her fingers drum right beside it.

She just wants one look. One look inside Matty Healy’s mind.

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro, @beatr2x, @byyourside28

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[kimbap-r0ll]

can you write some headcanons where Fem!reader has triplet siblings that is twisted from Huey, Dewey, and Louie? (Ducktales 2017) dislike their lover due to past overblots? So they ended up doing pranks while Fem!reader scolded them for being mean (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil pls)

Wait, that's kind of adorable, like having siblings that are low-key protective of their older sister but like are also chaotic? Thanks for the ask!

Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil x fem!reader who has Ducktales!siblings

Riddle

So, it looks like he would hate children, especially if their rowdy, but I feel like he has a soft spot for them because he honestly just wants to see kids happy (he didn't have a great childhood, so he'd rather try to help kids have a good time when their younger). The same can be said for his reaction towards your younger siblings, he's much less strict on them than he is to his own dorm, but that doesn't mean your siblings weren't scared of him

They probably asked him if he was going to "off their heads" or were like "are you scary?" They might've tried brawling him after finding out he accidentally hurt you haha. Nonetheless he might've joked with them that he could use magic on them but that scared one of them too much he just never did that again haha

He really thinks that they're adorable but sometimes he does get annoyed by them if they're too rowdy. He'll give them a curt "cut it out" but won't actually yell at them. He's apparently fine with yelling at students but when it comes to little kids he can't bring himself to do it

Thinks it's kind of funny how they're a bit overprotective of their older sister but also is a little saddened that his overblot is causing a bit of a difficulty between him and your family. However, he's hopeful that they'll look beyond just the horrors overblots do and learn Riddle has accepted his mistakes and grew from that experience.

Overall, I feel like as long as they aren't too loud around him he won't really mind them. They might grow to like him because he's good at listening and can offer help when they need it for homework. Will they call him tomato-face because they've seen him get angry or flustered? Yes. Will it cause them to be chased around the house for a bit by him when he visits? Why not.

Leona

Hates children, but this time for real...or does he? He's shown to be annoyed with Cheka and can't stand being around little balls of energy, but I feel like he too has a soft spot for kids. He hates having to babysit them, but the kids love him

When he met your siblings for the first time, they probably thought he was a little scary. Not to mention they knew about his overblot, they were scared to shake his hand at first. He's also a lion, so if he playfully makes a bad joke about him eating people they might run off screaming at you to not marry him lmaoo

They definitely love pulling pranks on him because while he's extremely good at coming up with devious plans, he's also kind of gullible. He might see through one trick but miss half of it. For example, Leona was led outside of the house and he saw the hole that they dug right in front of where he was about to step. Leona will then joke that he saw it coming, but what he didn't see was the other two siblings with a large bucket of water on the roof, ready to pour it on the poor guy

Leona's really relaxed, which is another reason your siblings will grow to like him. If you tell them to stay in because it's raining, Leona might make an excuse to bring them outside and play with them for a while. He's extremely lazy, but for some reason he wants the siblings to also have fun

Overall, he will first try to be unapproachable but will grow to be their favorite person. They're overprotective of you but will end up pushing you to marry him haha. I think Leona would sleep in all day after running around with the siblings the day before, but no worries since your siblings can go play with Cheka.

Azul

He probably doesn't hate children but doesn't really like them either. He definitely doesn't like them being messy and tries to keep himself from getting in any form of mud, but that doesn't mean he won't go meet them when you ask.

Didn't want your siblings to know about his past with the contracts and everything related to it since it makes him look like a bad person (he knows it too, but at the same time he's kinda proud of it lol). His lack of confidence also doesn't help him, he thinks your family will hate him because of who he is. When your siblings at first are a little afraid of him because of his past overblot, he can't help feel a little saddened and he might quickly walk away to his room if it gets worse.

You need to remind him that they're just kids, and if anything they'll grow to like Azul, which is true. He turns out to be an amazing chef, and the kids absolutely love that. Not to mention the absolute amount of knowledge this guy has, the kids never seem to be bored of Azul talking. They also love pulling pranks on Azul because he's kinda gullible too, but honestly I feel like Azul wouldn't mind that much since he knows it's just kids being kids

Surprisingly good moral support for your siblings. He can't stand watching kids stress out because of their mistakes or because of who they are. He tries to keep their confidence up and honestly gives great support. It's really heartwarming

Overall I feel like he wouldn't love running around with them or doing anything that involves heights, but that doesn't mean he hates them. He hopes that your family will accept him for who he is, and honestly the siblings definitely think that he's not who he was when he overblotted, but they do call him a nerd as a joke

Jamil

He's tired of kids. He's had to babysit for so long that it honestly wears him out even thinking about children. However, he tries his best to not think about his fatigue when he's around your siblings since a part of him also wants to help kids be safe and overall be healthy both mentally and physically.

Your siblings might have heard he's extremely powerful and that it would mean he could curse them. The way Jamil talks is also very blunt, which might intimidate them at first. In the beginning, they might've stared at him from far away and then ran off when he caught them looking at him. You might scold them for this behavior, but he says not to worry since he literally doesn't care.

He's sadly not really the type to play with them when they ask him to run around outside or play tag. However, when they ask him to play basketball, for some reason only that and a few other less chaotic tasks, he's completely fine. If they request he not go easy on them, expect them to be running to you with a "WHY IS YOUR BOYFRIEND LITERALLY AN ATHLETE." It's also a way for him to get back at them for doing pranks on him lolll

They want him to cook every time he comes by. You tell them to keep their manners in check and that he's not their personal chef, but he says he doesn't mind. They like watching him, like getting on their toes and staring at the kitchen island haha. They especially think his work with the knife is really skilled, like he'll be cutting things so fast they can't see the blade haha

Jamil was probably a little worried at first about his first impressions. More than just the overblot, Jamil feels like because of his social class back in his hometown, it might effect him and your family's relationship. However, the way your siblings welcome him and the way that they keep asking when you two are moving in together makes him feel a little relieved

Vil

Also someone that isn't the biggest fan of children, Vil didn't really want to meet your siblings at first. He knew he would have to meet them, but he didn't want to meet them until he felt like he was fully prepared to meet three hyper and chaotic little gremlins haha

They know who he is, which is something that was always in the back of his mind. They know that he always plays the villain but also that he overblotted. It worried him that your siblings would only see him as the villains he acted as, and at first the way they were staring at him from afar made him think that they didn't want him around. However, after a few more meetups, they soon relax around him

He's pretty s children too, but he won't yell at them. He worked in the film and theater industry really young, and he doesn't want kids to go through that level of stress. This mindset might be the reason why he never actually gets angry at them, though he might get annoyed and move from the living room to the guest bedroom. He's also a frequent victim to their pranks, which he hates and has scared them off a few times. You scolding them along with him scolding them probably made them cry a few times ://

Because of his career in acting, he's probably really good at reading books with so much emotion and drama. They love it when he reads them stories because he can somehow bring all the characters from the pages alive, so expect to see them huddled around him as he's reading from a pile of books. It's really wholesome

Overall he knows that he's strict but he knows he won't be changing that part of him anytime soon. Vil's honestly glad that your siblings grew to like him since he's so used to kids being scared of him haha.

[smolwritingchick]

Becoming a Pro-Ridah? Part 1

This was done so I'll drop this now. Still working on the other requests but this idea popped into my head weeks ago and has been in the drafts. Little smol suggestive brainstorm. This is probably going to be around 2017. I was thinking around the Billboard Awards that this could happen. I guess character development and training for when Jennie starts to become a switch in the bedroom with Jungkook??

Summary: Jen informs Angelina of Jungkook's request to try something new in the bedroom and seeks advice

-----

"Oooo so he wants you to ride him? Now that's one of my favorite positions!" Angelina cheered.

Seated in Angelina's hotel room, Jennie had informed her how Jungkook wanted to try a new position that involved her being on top. The only issue Jen had was her nervousness in trying it as well as losing control since she seemed to submit easily to him in the bedroom.

"You do it often?" Jen asked.

"Hell yeah, that's my number one. I am the best pro rider there is. And also I've had my fair share of NDAs when I had my little hoe phase. It was so much fun. So, do you need help from the best of the best? I got you. How are you two, anyway? You two good in that department?"

"Yes, girl and I'm loving every moment of it. He's very attentive to my needs and always makes me feel amazing,"

"As a man should. Yet you're still submissive as ever," she giggled.

"Listen! I tried but it's hard,"

"I was like that until I built myself up to show off that dominant side. It's really fun. You should try it while you're riding him. Being in complete control,"

"You see I've thought about it a lot but one sultry look from him and I'm gone. His eye contact is intense, Angelina. Like the way he undresses me with his eyes when we're intimate…it's hard. I be ready to do anything he wants while I'm under him,"

The rapper laughed. "Wow, you're locked in. Also, I've seen a lot of videos and photos of the way you stare at him. It's pretty cute to see how mesmerized you are with your man. But yeah we gotta fix this. It's time to help you become a switch. It's nice to get bent like a pretzel as your man knocks the Mario coins out of you but it's also fun to be in control and have your way. I love it when a man begs and moans for me. It's the greatest thing ever. And that my friend is what we need to work on with you so you can make Jungkook moan and beg for you,"

"Girl…I'm the one that's going to be doing the begging,"

"Oh no, honey, by the time I'm done teaching you my ways, he'll be putty in your hands. For starters, he's going to have to be tied up. I feel like that'll help you when his hands aren't on you and he can be at your mercy. And since you squirm under his gaze, why not blindfold him for a little bit? You could do that a few times until you start gaining confidence in being able to look at him in the eyes while you're putting on a show,"

"Hm…" Miss Bangtan thought about it with a smile. "I like that,"

"Good. Now come on, lesson number one~!"

[apollos-boyfriend]

my main beef with matpat was the kris/frisk/chara misgendering and the indie dev thing what the fuck did he do?????

like outside of those things you mean? here's the ones i'd listed/instantly came to mind. a lot of things people rag on him about are like OLD old (early 2010s, like the whole "basing pyro's sex off of weird pseudoscience), which is why i won't be listing Every issue i've had because i want to assume he's grown and changed since then, at least with those things. anyways

has a weird tendency of equating video games to real-life murders. the first time i can remember him doing it was with the first ever fnaf theory, where he said it was about the actual murder of chuck-e-cheese employees and that you played as the murderer rotting in hell. which is. weird enough. but that was 2014, nearly 10 years ago, shit happens. however. that was the only time he's done this. it happened again in 2017-2019 with petscop, equating the game to the murder of a 10 year old girl. and, to his full defense, the creator of petscop ALLEGEDLY said that he did start basing his game off of that case, but that he severely regrets it and regards it as an extremely stupid decision. that doesn't make matpat's actions any less weird, because if you realize a game is Actually tied to the killing of a real-life child, just. don't fucking comment on it. it's weird and even the creator regrets his decision to do so.

on a theory about what i think was a alleged fnaf arg, he asked for his followers to help him "discover more clues" by asking them to physically call/visit locations in the real world he believed were connected to this so-called arg. (from my knowledge, this arg doesn't exist btw.) at NO point during the writing, producing, recording, editing, etc of the video did he manage to connect the dots that, hey, doxxing real-life locations for my fans to swarm to is a Bad Fucking Idea, meanwhile every other major fnaf community rushed to shut it down the SECOND his video came out, with large reddit, twitter, etc accounts imploring for fans not to listen to him, and that similar incidents have happened in the past and led to nothing (to the point where scott cawthon himself has had to step in and tell people to knock it off). i can't remember exactly how long it took for him to take it down/call off the masses, but the fact that it even got published in the first place is honestly just inexcusable, both for him and for his team (this was june of last year)

he blamed etika's suicide on cancel culture and has never apologized. the tweet is still up, for some insane fucking reason, although multiple people both close to matpat and close to etika corrected him on completely erasing the issue of mental health (this was 2019)

and lastly, while i've heard rumors of him stealing theories for years now, the only first-hand i've seen was his hermitcraft theory. the original creator of the theory can be found here [link], alongside all his theories, evidence of theft, etc. she has never been properly credited for this, and those who tried to comment on the video to properly do so had their comments instantly deleted. (this was late 2021)

[lasouillonne]

A story about my IT brainrot and the thanks you all deserve

tw : suicide

Ok so uuh, I have a confession to make

So yeah, it’s been since 2017 I’m in the IT fandom, but I came back only recently, precisely around the 31st of July and the 6th of August. Since then, in two months, I saw the movies (each) 4 times, read the novels and saw the miniseries. I’ve drawn a lot of IT fanart, read a lot of fanfiction and wrote some myself. I also started to roleplay with my supportive best friend !

But the fact is, there’s a reason I've been so obsessed with IT since the end of July. The 31st of July my step brother committed suicide. It has been a huge shock for me that I will not describe here more than we need. The fact is, I’m a maladaptive daydreamer, and I didn’t know why but the day it happened, I needed to be somewhere else to accept all that happened ; the police and the firefighters at home, the questions they asked while I was crying all I had, calling my mom and stepfather to tell them what happened, the hospital, and the long waiting (three days) during which we still had hope for him to wake up. He didn’t.

I spent the three days of waiting dealing with it as I could, not in a healthy way, but I did. I re-watched the movies with my best friend three days after he officially died. I cried all I had along with my bestie. It was August, it was warm, and I just ran away from my family, cause I wasn’t able to face my step father’s grief. So I ran away to one of my best friends' houses and I tried to not think about it. I started reading fanfictions at this moment, I discovered “Through light into gentle darkness” by Asexual_Asshat and many other fanfictions. I started reading the novels while I was at my first metal festival (it inspired my one shot “Seventeen again” that I first handwritten in my sketchbook while listening to Beast in Black in live) and drew a lot of IT sketches.

It’s been two months now. Can I say the stupid clown movie and its tumblr and ao3 fandom saved my ass? Yes I can say it. Thank you so much. I can’t say how much the reblog and comments about my stupid headcanons, sketches and stuff helped me.

PS : I had to tell an anecdote during a game at work and I chose it to be “I saw the It movies 10 times each”.

[eccentricgrace]

Little Worrier || IronDad

summary: peter can't place why he's anxious, just that something is wrong, and he needs to get out of the crowd.

tags: anxiety, panic attacks, protective tony stark, spidey senses, ceiling collapse, mentions of the vulture parking garage incident of 2017, stark industries business venturesTM

wc: 1,413

cross-posted to wattpad by the same name!

They're at an event; him, Tony, and some of the other interns. Some grand conference. Peter didn't really read the invitation, he just goes when Tony asks.

He can't tell what exactly it is, but ever since he stepped in, his whole stomach rocked with anxiety. He places his bets on the people. The place is packed, crowded wall to wall with bodies, every step he takes has him brushing shoulders with someone else. He consciously makes an effort to press closer to Tony as they enter the threshold.

"You good?" Tony asks under his breath.

Peter nods, his mouth pressed in a tight line. His heart is racing in his chest, so he takes a breath. This was the uncomfortable part of being Spider-Man— the stuff Peter Parker has to deal with in his stead. The baseless anxiety. Annoying.

And he spends the next twenty minutes trying really hard to get over it, the needless lack of breath, the way his skin was buzzing, his head felt fuzzy. Not good.

People keep bumping into him, and his stomach is starting to turn, and his ears are doing the thing they do when there's so much sound that it starts layering in weird ways—

Peter's half-listening to Tony talk about the principles of glass to a scientist, a really nice one works that works in one of the lower levels, when it just becomes unbearable. The panic is revving up faster than he can control it. He discreetly nudges Tony's shoulder and tries not to cringe at the touch.

Tony looks over immediately and ducks his head toward him. His eyebrows crease in concern as he scans over him rapidly. Always assessing for the problem, and then like magic—

"Let's take a break," Tony says decisively. He hovers a hand over Peter's shoulder, a silent question. They do this, sometimes, this non-colloquial back-and-forth thing. Peter gives him a slight nod, so Tony drops his hand and gently leads them out of the crowd.

"Outside, or bathroom?"

The nice way of asking, fresh air or a clean place to throw up?

"Bathroom," Peter answers, his voice cracking. His stomach is still turning and twisting itself in knots and he'd rather not take chances.

Tony nods casually. He turns down the hall, pushes the door open and leads them in. He crouches down and scans the floor. "Hey, good news. Nobody's in here, kiddie."

Peter makes an appreciative noise and slides his back down the wall, sitting on the grimy tile floor. Puts his head in his hands and breathes. "This sucks."

"The fourth-rate venue? I agree. This place looks like it needs a crime-scene-level deep-clean."

Peter smiles, and then gets hit with another wave of nausea. He sighs, the temporary humour draining out of him.

Tony sits next to him with a groan, his joints popping uncomfortably. "Sorry, Underoos. I wish there was a cure for all that brain junk we have to put up with, but... well, I don't know. Maybe I'll find something, someday. Add it to my to-do list."

"Mrgh," Peter says helpfully. He tries to calm himself down. Tony's presence is helping. He's got this steadiness to him, unwavering, always. He doesn't seem to ever be afraid, ever, even when Peter's world feels like it's tilting on its axis.

Tony stands up, and Peter feels unsteady again. A boat without an anchor. He wants to open his mouth and ask him to sit back down again— but he can't find the words, and he feels like his stomach will finally betray him if he even tries to part his lips.

Then something happens.

His senses buzz, a wave of sensation ricocheting through his nerves. He jerks up, scrambling his legs to grab Tony, to lurch him back. A panel of the ceiling falls, landing on the floor with a thud and kicking up dust and dirt.

"Well, there you go," Tony says with a tired sigh, kicking the panel with his foot. "Look at that, isn't that nice."

It's weird, because it's really not even that big of a deal. Buildings fall apart, especially old ones. Pieces break and brittle, and that doesn't mean it's the whole building that will come crashing down. He knows that.

He knows that, but somehow, he can't breathe.

No, he can't breathe, and that's not even the worst part— because suddenly he needs to get out of here, because if one panel could come down, then maybe all of them could, and—

"Nearly getting decapitated by a loose—"

"We've gotta go," Peter says, his legs shaking. "We gotta get out of here, seriously. Come on, we have to go."

"Woah, hey. Slow down," Tony holds his hands up. "Kid, take a breath. What's going on?"

"What's going— the building's about to fall apart, it's not safe! A piece of the whole ceiling nearly hit you," Peter rattles off, talking a mile a minute. "I mean, I could have missed it, and you could have hit your head."

"Then I would have hit my head," Tony shrugs. "Not a big deal. It happens. Pretty sure getting thocked upside the head by Dum-E hurts a little more than a... flimsy... plaster board."

Peter shakes his head, and keeps shaking his head. "No, I've— the ceiling isn't sturdy, if it caves in I can't— I can't hold up another building, I'll—"

"Peter," Tony cocks his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "What do you mean another? What are you— alright, it doesn't matter. Let's go outside, get you some air."

Always a good plan from Tony. The older man starts leading him out of the bathroom and out to the fire escape, further down the hallway, and Peter finds himself talking in a panicked flurry the whole way there.

"When we walked in I counted thirty support pillars, and about four exits, five including the fire exit," Peter recites, stumbling down the hall.

"Jesus," Tony mutters. He nudges the door open with his elbow and walks both of them outside. "I'm picking up a lot of things from you right now and I'm not sure I'm liking the picture they're making."

Peter shook his head vehemently. "I don't wanna talk about it. Not now."

Tony sighs, but seems to understand— which is a relief. They don't normally talk about this stuff, and they definitely don't have a habit of asking each other about it. 

It's kind of an unspoken rule— dark things are only talked about in the dark.  They learn bits and pieces about each other during middle-of-the-night phone calls or late nights in the lab that turn into early mornings, both of them too tired and comfortable to care about what they're sharing. 

Anyways, the fresh air is helping. Peter feels the weight in his head lessen enough where he's able to process how much of what he's feeling is actual spider-sense anxiety and what's just the normal kind. 

Tony sits beside him and starts talking while he breathes through the dwindling nausea. Little stuff, always allowing an entry if or when Peter felt comfortable enough to be human again. 

"We could watch that clone show," he says offhandedly. "The animated one you like. I think we stopped on the second episode last time, but that was a while ago, so you'll have to fill me in on what I forgot. I'm all old now, so the brain gets foggy. If you don't fill me in, it's basically elder abuse. Just so you know."

At the silent response of a quip being left wide open, Tony looks over at him. "Not feeling any better?"

"I feel better," Peter says quiet, defeated. "I just hate that I get like this sometimes. I'm Spider-Man, you know? I have to be better. Think clearer."

Tony shrugs, loosely hanging an arm over his shoulder's. "Maybe. But you're also, like, sixteen? Seventeen? God, you're growing up fast. The point is, you're still young now, and you've been through a lot of shit. It's going to take some time before all of that is just a passing thought."

Peter bites back an argument. 

"I know," Tony affirms, rolling his eyes. "You think I was fine and dandy coming back from Afghanistan? That took me years. Then the whole thing in 2012 took me even longer."

"Right," Peter says with a sigh.

Tony shakes him a bit, his eyes going earnest. "Hey. You're doing good, Peter. Seriously. I'm proud of you."

Peter nods, looking down. "Are we going back in?"

"Mmm, no," Tony says, scratching his chin. "I think I'm in the mood for donuts."

With that, the faintest hint of a smile makes its way to Peter's face— and Tony beams.

[writingmoth]

finger painting and creative for either

Finger Painting: share a small snippet from your earliest work (or the earliest that you can get back to). How would you rewrite it today? Either share the rewrite itself or just describe how you'd do it.

god 😭i can't share my oldest work because it's in portuguese (and i may have lost it... currently looking for it, but welp, i can't find it) but my first work in english was a wip nicknamed #aroaceprincess (i used to post about it mostly on twitter) and later titled Queen of Hearts. i wrote like, two drafts for it, then shelved it bc i just couldn't bear to look at it anymore. here's a snippet from its third chapter:

He snorts. “What about the office jobs isn’t easy?” “…But you shouldn’t blame yourself or to feel ashamed for something that is out of your control,” she finishes as if he has not said anything. He can’t blame her; he is being an asshole and they all know it. “We will help you. We are your friends. And your team.” I don’t want any help, he almost snarls, but he bites back the words and looks away from them. He has been waiting, wary, for them to leave, to give up on him, since what had happened six months ago. Maybe he has tried to push them away too, just a little, when things are just too much and he can’t deal with them in a way that doesn’t involve being completely and utterly alone. But they haven’t left, not even when Isabel did. But the small voice in his head shrieks in frustration and shame, and Rafael is far too gone to not listen to it. “I won’t need any help. You three, though, will.” He jabs a finger at Fernando’s chest, but the bastard doesn’t even blink, you are not fooling me written all over his stupid face. “I’d appoint you as the new scout leader since I let the old one die screaming, but I’m giving my post as the leader of the squadron to Anabel. If you behave she will choose you. Probably. Also, Anabel, congratulations.” They watch him in silence. Emília’s shoulders slump. “Rafael,” she says softly. “Don’t be like this.”

this was written in 2017, i think? it's from the second draft because the first draft has disappeared into the ether at this point. i don't think there is anything inherently wrong about it, but it doesn't fit my style much anymore. or at least the style i'm aiming for lol. rafael is far too aware of his own thought process here and that wasn't intentional. i just wanted the reader to know something about him, so i straight up told the reader about it 🤷 if i tried writing it today, i'd try to make all of his feelings more obvious in the narrative itself instead of pausing everything to have him think about what he is feeling, if that makes sense? i'm a big fan of letting the readers reach their own conclusions about how a character thinks by molding the writing in a way that makes it more clear (main reason i tend to dislike first person - it feels too self aware).

Creative!: free space! share something you've been dying to share about your writing! Could be an OC that never gets the limelight, a moment you were proud of, or anything else you'd like to share

it's so hard to choose one thing. but.... vespertine!!!!!!!

this is a sketch i made of them back in 2020 so its not accurate but vespertine is my most recent obsession in the world of antisnowwhite and fantasy romance wip. they have godzilla energy. think force of nature. very silent until they are not. they are blind (most recent iteration quite literally has no eyes (anymore) but i'm not sure if it will stay that way) and very, VERY angry.

who knows when i will get to write them tho 😭 i can imagine them showing up halfway through the antisnowwhite series but since i have no clue of how long antisnowwhite is going to be that doesn't help much. they live in my head rent free though.

i will mention them in fantasy romance wip, but not by name so it probably won't be obvious who they are. i'm excited to get to write that at least.

thank you so much for the ask!!

[btxt1223]

My Journey with BTS

tw// mentions of suicide

So, I have created this account to post random thoughts and a way to express my emotions better. I want to write my 1st post about BTS cause the only people to whom I have genuinely expressed my emotions is BTS. 

So, I have known about BTS since 2015 and started stanning them in 2017. When DNA came out, I wasn't particularly obsessed with it then, but Yoongi caught my eye because of his stage name, Suga. I was intrigued. The man had a very chill vibe to him, which I was drawn to; soon enough, I was binge-watching their interviews and music videos, listening to their songs, looking up their song translations, and, of course, Run BTS. I was obsessed with them, and I still am. The seven guys became my rock during high school. Would I be here trying to write this blog if not for them? I can't imagine even going a day without listening to their music, like just one song, a group or a solo. BTS has played a massive role in making me the person I am, the way I think, and my ideas. They made me a more curious person. From their music videos to the theme of the music that they made, it made learning things about society and art amusing for me, which I couldn't think would have happened in an education system that tries to kill our thinking. I decided to take up humanities as my stream because Map of Persona made me curious about psychology. The Blood, Sweat and Tears music video interested me in Greek mythology. I learned South Korea's history and socio-economics to understand their music better. I learned how the music industry in the West and South Korea works so that I could see them succeed in something they put so much passion and love into. I learned to care, be kind and humble, and love myself.  

So, let me try to talk about my emotions, which is a tough thing for me to do, and I have been trying my best to avoid that part for a long time. Not talking about it wouldn't do justice to this blog, where I am talking about my journey with BTS. I wasn't particularly a kid who got along with everyone and had many friends growing up. I remember feeling lonely constantly as a kid. I had social anxiety growing up, which made talking to people extremely hard for me. I wasn’t great in academics, and I still am not. I try my best, but something keeps lacking, making me incredibly insecure. Things like these have left me feeling insanely depressed that I have lost the meaning of life. I had so many times considered ending my life, never made any attempts or such, but just wished a truck would come and hit me. Soon, those thoughts came to my mind less when I started listening to BTS because they talked about these feelings in their lives and music.

I felt I wasn't alone for the first time, that somebody truly got me. I started trying to live because of them. I looked forward to their new music, the surprise live shows after every award function, the concerts they did or just randomly at night because they couldn't sleep, those Weverse posts, and the Run BTS new episode. Those little things motivated me to get out of bed and finish my day to peacefully enjoy whatever content they put out. I was reading one of my diary entries filled with BTS back during the lockdown. I didn't realise before reading that diary entry how much of a significant role they played in helping me stay alive when I got a considerable side effect of depression from my ADHD medications, and for that, I am thankful. I wouldn't be attending a nice enough college without them keeping me motivated, and I can't thank them enough.

I am ending this post on a somewhat incomplete note because it is tough for me to talk about something so close to my heart, and my journey with BTS here hasn't ended yet. I'll come soon enough to talk more about this.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

&lt;< Beginning < Prev || AO3 || My website

Chapter 82: June 2017

Gerry can’t sleep. Or maybe more accurately won’t sleep. The flashbacks don’t happen when he’s actually, truly sleeping, but they tend to come on just before he falls asleep—at least he’s never stayed awake after one—and he doesn’t want to risk one, not now. Partly it’s that he doesn’t want to see which memory, his own or someone else’s, Terminus will dredge up for him today. Partly it’s that he doesn’t want to be in the middle of one if—when—someone calls.

He doesn’t know what it’s like from the outside when he goes into one, but the look on Tim’s face when he woke him up that morning tells him it’s probably not a picnic for his boyfriend (bedmate, partner, boytoy, whatever) to witness any more than it is for him to experience them. And this last one was a real whopper, one that left him sick and shaking and feeling like Lady Macbeth—Out, damned spot, out! He doesn’t really want to sleep after that anyway, and Tim not being there makes it worse. He and Melanie—and Sasha, which Gerry can’t decide if that makes it better or worse—are up in Great Yarmouth again, staking out the place they’re sure will be the site of the Unknowing. They haven’t been able to confirm it one way or another, but they’re still trying. Gerry is nervous and anxious about them; it’s not that he doesn’t trust them, although Martin is ninety percent of Melanie’s impulse control, it’s just that he knows the Stranger can be insidious and he worries that it will sneak in where they’re least expecting.

He’s also worried about Martin. Nobody’s heard from him in three days, since he called to ask about Gertrude’s arrest records—and that was news to Gerry, that she’d been caught adding him to the Book—and he would have expected him to at least text and tell Jon what his plans are. Strung out, nervous, and more than a little worried that the Hunters who had the Book last might have heard Martin mention his name and decided to take steps, he finally tried calling shortly after Tim let him know they’d reached Great Yarmouth, only for the phone to ring a few times and then abruptly drop the call. He tried again a few minutes ago and only got the automated intercept message, and texts are going through as undeliverable. Either the international plan provided by the Institute has reached its limit…or something has happened.

Gerry isn’t betting on the plan not being an unlimited one.

So here it is, inching ever closer towards the wee small hours, and he is running out of ways to keep himself awake. He’s tried reading, but the point he’s at in Dracula isn’t helping; he’s tried drawing, but what appears on his canvas is scaring him almost as bad as the flashbacks, and the music he usually listens to makes things worse. About the only things he’s been able to do are smoke and fret, and he’s down to his last cigarette.

He’s starting to get shaky. It’s been a while since he’s…fed, for lack of a better word, and without Tim, Martin, or Melanie there to redirect his attention or hold him accountable, the temptation to go prowl the streets and find something more substantial than the stopgap measures he’s been using is almost too strong. Woodbines are a poor substitute for a human soul—and Gerry is not sure at what point in time that became a normal fucking thing for him to think, but here he is—and he’s already asking himself if Martin would really condemn him if he knew, which is not a good sign for either of them. God, it’s a good thing Melanie isn’t becoming a full-blown avatar of something, because the three of them would be an absolute disaster, regardless of what Fear she found herself bound to.

He paces, and smokes, and frets, and tries calling Martin again, only to get the fucking automatic intercept message. It’s not that late over there, Martin should be able to answer, but he isn’t, which means something is wrong, but there’s nothing he can really do. He still hasn’t got a new passport because he keeps getting the runaround about whether he needs to renew or reapply and it’s honestly not that high on his list of priorities right now, so he can’t exactly go over to America to help. And it’s a big fucking country; even knowing the last place Martin was, there are so many places he could have gone since and so many places he could be. It’s the main reason he’s reluctant to express his worries to anyone else, particularly Jon. He doesn’t doubt for a minute that Jon will go over there and tear the entire country apart with his bare hands if he thinks Martin is in trouble, but Martin will kick Gerry’s ass if he lets him get hurt.

Damn Gertrude. Did she have to be so bloody mysterious all the time? Why couldn’t she have left them a clear, concise folder with all of her plans and provisions laid out in color-coded bullet points, rather than traipsing around the world with her cards so close to her chest they’re practically down her bra and her trust no one attitude that obviously hadn’t served her well at all? Or even left it in a file—or several files—on her laptop? But the team had already scoured her office…

Gerry freezes mid-puff. The Archivist’s office. A conversation he had with Gertrude once pops into his head. He stares off into the distance for a moment, running through his thoughts, then picks up his phone and dials a number.

“I’m breaking into your office,” he says without preamble as soon as the call is picked up.

“Wh…Gerry?” Jon sounds confused and fogged with sleep.

“Yeah.” Gerry backtracks and tries to remember the appropriate social script for calling someone in the middle of the night to get permission to do something that would otherwise be illegal. “Sorry. Hi. It’s Gerry. Didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m going to break into your office.”

There’s a long pause, and a bit of rustling from the other end. “Okay? N-no, wait…there’s security. I think. You—I’ll let you in.”

Gerry decides it’s not worth the argument. “Fine. I’ll meet you there.”

The Underground runs late now, so he’s able to get to the Institute fairly quickly. He doesn’t know if he’s going to beat Jon there or not—he’s still a bit hazy on where exactly he and Martin live these days, so he doesn’t know which train he has to take—but he’s not prepared for Jon to pull into a parking spot right as he walks up.

“I didn’t know you drove,” he says, gesturing at the car.

Jon shrugs. He still doesn’t look like he’s completely awake, but he’s at least functioning. “It’s Tim’s. He didn’t want to be up there in something that could be traced back to him and loaned it to me while they were gone in exchange for—” He stifled a yawn. “—taking them to the train station.”

Which makes sense, at least. Gerry sighs. “Fine. So how do we get in without alerting security?”

Jon leads him around to the side door, unlocks it, and lets him in. The Archives are pitch black and—quite frankly—spooky this late at night, but before Gerry even has time to really get nervous or start wondering if the Dark itself somehow got in, Jon clicks on a torch with a familiarity that tells Gerry he’s done this more than once.

“Come here often, then?” he asks dryly, and then instantly regrets it. Even if Jon wasn’t asexual, he’s dating Martin—although dating is a bit of a mild term to put on the level of commitment, depth of feeling, and amount of pining that goes on between the two of them.

Jon, however, doesn’t seem to notice. “We didn’t always want Elias to know how often we’d been in the tunnels,” he says, a bit distractedly. “It’s this way.”

Gerry trails after Jon to his office, then takes the torch so he can unlock the door. He’s about to start scanning when Jon flips a switch and lights up the room.

It’s…unsettlingly familiar, and yet odd at the same time. Gerry hasn’t been here since coming back to life—he never made it down to the Archives during the attack and hasn’t been back to the Institute since, to keep Elias from knowing he’s alive—and he hasn’t adequately prepared for seeing it. Gertrude was never one for the personal touch, but he remembers the very specific tea mug, the fountain pens, the smart jacket that always hung on the coat rack even though he never saw her wear it, the calendar she claimed she left up despite it being a quarter century out of date because the cat in the picture looked like hers. Now the coat rack is gone, replaced with a flimsy set of shelves bristling with files and a cardigan Gerry recognizes as one Martin made to use up his scrap yarn and gave Melanie as a gag gift tossed casually over some of them. There are no pens or tea mugs to be seen; Jon is seemingly obsessive about keeping his desktop clear. The calendar has been replaced with a more up-to-date one, the dates methodically and precisely crossed off, although the picture is still one of cats. Even the desk is different, a heavy dark walnut that could easily be used as a barricade in a siege.

For a moment, Gerry stares at the office in dismay. Then he shakes it off and turns to Jon. “Since you’re here, I can look through your office, right?”

Jon gestures vaguely at the room. “Knock yourself out.”

Gerry begins going through the desk, even though it’s new; he presumes whatever was in the previous desk would be transferred over, so it’s a chance. In the top drawer he finds the pens—not fountain pens, but not cheap biros either—plus a stamp pad, a bottle of ink, and a pack of what look like statement forms. The next one contains several blank tapes and a jar filled with what appears to be dirt, or possibly ashes. The bottom drawer contains nothing but a spare set of clothing. With a regretful sigh, he shuts the drawer and starts looking through the shelves.

Jon watches him for several minutes, then finally asks, “What are you looking for?”

“Oh.” Gerry sighs, half buried in a stack of files. “I finally remembered…not long before I ended up in the hospital, Gertrude told me that if something got her first…there’s a storage unit on an industrial estate up near Hainault. It’s where she was storing what she had that she reckoned might disrupt the Unknowing, once she pinpointed where it was. She said she rented it under the name Jan Kelly, and hid a key for it somewhere in the Archives.”

Jon blinks. “Oh. Why didn’t you say so? I found that already.”

Gerry straightens too fast and bangs his head on the underside of the shelf. He lets out a string of Italian profanity he learned from Tim and carefully extracts himself, then turns to face Jon. “You what?”

Jon shakes his head and looks embarrassed. “I’m—I’m sorry, I should have asked you sooner, but…”

Gerry takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. “Sorry, my fault, I did kind of wake you up and throw questions at you. Uh, thanks for just helping me without demanding to know what I was doing, though.” That elicits a tiny laugh out of Jon. “You found the storage unit?”

“N-no, no, I found the key,” Jon replies. His eyes go vacant for a second. “It was—early December sometime? Martin and I listened to one of Gertrude’s tapes together…it, your mother was on it, she was telling Gertrude about…the Book.”

Gerry shivers. “I can’t imagine Martin took that well.”

“He didn’t. But at the end of it…your mother gave Gertrude a page out of the Book. She didn’t say who was in it, just that it was in English. And I heard Gertrude…open a floorboard after.” Jon crosses over to a corner of his office, kneels down, and levers up a board; it does in fact give a rather distinctive creak. “This is where her laptop was. And…I also found this.” He holds up a plain, ordinary-looking key.

“That’s it.” Gerry moves closer and takes the key from him, examining it.

Jon puts the board back and gets to his feet. “Near Hainault, you said?”

“Yeah, an industrial site. Not sure which one.”

“Well, there can’t be but so many up there. Come on, then.” Jon turns for the door.

Gerry blinks at him. “What, now?”

Jon turns and looks back at him. “Now that I know it’s there, I don’t think my curiosity will let me wait much longer. And…I’m not sure I can go back to sleep.”

Gerry feels a bit guilty. “I shouldn’t have woken you.”

“Well, regardless, you did. Anyway, if we go now, Elias is less likely to know where we’ve gone. Personally, I’d like to keep him in the dark as much as possible.”

“Fair point,” Gerry admits. “All right. Let’s go.”

Jon gives him his phone to look up storage units in the area while he drives them up to Hainault. Gerry finds two and calls both, without any particularly high hopes. One goes to a voicemail that informs him the office hours are nine AM to five PM, but that access to the units is available year round, which is not helpful. The other, surprisingly, gets an actual human being who seems delighted to have something to disrupt their boring night and happily assures “Mr. Kelly” that his unit is still fully paid up, although only through the end of the month. The kid on the other end even “confirms” the unit number and gives him the access code to the gate, as apparently they’re not actually on site, which is a boon Gerry hasn’t been expecting.

When they reach the unit, Gerry has Jon key in the number—65317—and the gate slowly swings open. Jon finds an unobtrusive spot to park the car, and they begin wandering the rather eerie rows of units. Finally, Gerry stops. “This is it. 1034.”

Jon hands Gerry the key. He fumbles with the lock for a moment, then pops it open and rolls up the metal door. The light from the outside doesn’t provide a lot of illumination, but it enables him to spy a cord dangling from the ceiling, which he pulls. A light clicks on overhead.

Jon almost drops the torch. “Good Lord.”

It’s…cluttered isn’t the word. Everything is neatly stacked and, if not organized, at least put in relatively orderly rows. But it’s crowded, and Gerry is suddenly thankful they didn’t bring Martin, who would likely be feeling more than a little claustrophobic, especially after Gerry shepherds Jon in and rolls the door down behind them—not, however, before pocketing the lock, just in case.

“That’s Gertrude.” Gerry sighs. “If something’s worth doing, it’s worth…searching through a couple dozen unmarked cardboard boxes for.”

“Did she give you any hint of what it might be we’re looking for?” Jon asks. “Other than ‘something to disrupt the Unknowing’?”

Gerry shakes his head. “She said she’d show me when we got back to London. Mind you, she had this weird look in her eyes, like it was some kind of joke.”

“Was it?”

“Probably not. She didn’t make jokes.”

Jon goes quiet for a moment, looking around the storage unit. Gerry figures he’s trying to figure out where to start until he asks, very softly, “Do you think she knew? That, that you weren’t likely to make it back to London alive?”

Gerry…honestly hasn’t considered that question before. “I-I mean…not exactly? She couldn’t have Known. Not like that. The future, it’s—anyone who tells you they can see the future, for certain anyway, is lying. There are…probabilities, sure, but everything we’ve ever found that has to do with fortune-telling or, or predictions or whatever, it’s been Web-aligned. Someone once said the only two things the Eye can’t See are what might have been and what might be.”

“Who told you that?”

“Genuinely, can’t remember. I was a little kid and they weren’t talking to me.” Gerry doesn’t even remember who the person was talking to, either, but he’s not going to say that. “Anyway, Gertrude might’ve known I was sick. I kept having headaches, real bad ones, but she always said I’d be fine. I just…assumed she Knew it wasn’t all that bad, but looking back on it, she probably didn’t want to waste energy on something like that, not when she was focused on clowns and skin-stealing monsters and saving the world. She was never one to treat one life as more important than that.”

Jon exhales heavily. “She sounds like a delightful person.”

Gerry shrugs. “She had her moments. Most of the time, though, yeah, she frustrated me. Anyway, let’s…see what’s here.”

They begin searching through the stacks and boxes. Jon finds a few paintings with the eyes cut out; Gerry finds a box full of dolls that have also had their eyes removed. Something about that tickles at the back of his mind, but he—perhaps unwisely—ignores it and keeps searching. There are a number of shredded newspapers, too, but Gerry can’t tell if they are—or were—important, or if they’re just there for packing.

An exclamation from Jon draws his attention, and he whips around. “What? You found something?”

“I—I don’t know. It’s…” Jon gestures helplessly. “I found a book.”

Instantly, Gerry is at Jon’s side, staring down at it. It’s a notebook, or appears to be one from the outside, which…isn’t necessarily comforting. One of the nastiest books he’s ever picked up for his mother was ostensibly a mimeographed recipe book bound with a plastic comb, the kind put together and sold by Ladies’ Auxiliaries to raise money for a new sanctuary roof or something. He pokes at it gently, but the book, thankfully, doesn’t respond.

“I…Gertrude wouldn’t have kept it here if it was dangerous,” he says, a little uncertainly.

“Unless she thought it would stop the Unknowing,” Jon points out.

“Tell you what.” Gerry hands Jon his lighter. “Stand back. And be ready with that if I start screaming.”

He waits until Jon backs away, then gingerly lifts the book out of the box, where it’s nestled between several empty glass frames and a moth-eaten scarf. Holding his breath, he slowly opens the cover, then sighs in relief when he sees what’s inside. “It’s okay. It’s Gertrude’s handwriting.”

Jon relaxes and comes closer again. “What does she have to say?”

“Absobloodylutely nothing useful,” Gerry grumbles, angling the notebook so Jon can see as he flicks through the pages. Names, locations, dates, none of them with any meaning as far as he can see. “We can take it with us, but I doubt it’s going to give us anything helpful.”

“You never know. I-it might have something.” Jon takes the book from Gerry and sets it somewhere obvious they won’t lose it, hopefully. “There were dates. Maybe we can match them with statements.”

“That’s a thought,” Gerry admits. “But it’s likely not what she meant.”

“No,” Jon agrees. “We should keep looking.”

Gerry resumes his search. Frankly, it looks like an old woman’s storage unit, filled with things she doesn’t want or need anymore. He’s frowning down at a box of what appears to be dusty old lace, about to reach into it and pull something out, when Jon asks in a voice that sounds very much like he doesn’t want to ask it, “Have you…heard from Martin?”

Gerry straightens and turns to look at Jon, who is studiously avoiding him, but also not really looking all that hard—more scuffling through the boxes pretending to look busy. He doesn’t want to answer him, but does, reluctantly. “No. Not since you said he’d called. I—I tried to call him earlier, and it didn’t go through.”

“So did I. I was hoping…” Jon shakes his head. “He’s, he’ll be fine. He promised.”

Gerry doesn’t point out that he made a promise, too, and that it took a deal with the devil to even partially fulfill it. “Martin’s tough. I’m sure he’ll be all right. Probably he’s just in a dead zone or something.”

Jon’s head comes up in alarm, and then he suddenly relaxes. “Oh, you mean…l-like a cell phone dead zone.”

“Yeah. Martin’s alive. I’d know if he wasn’t.” Gerry taps his left temple. Jon probably can’t see the streak of white there—Gerry’s careful to arrange his hair to keep it hidden—but he can never seem to cover it up with dye, no matter how he tries.

“That’s…oddly comforting.” Jon sighs and goes back to furricking through the boxes, but at least this time he seems less upset.

Gerry turns to look in another box and frowns. “Now why in the hell would she have a box of…mangy fur scraps?”

Instantly, Jon is at his side, snatching the scrap from beneath his fingers. He turns it over, a look of mingled disgust and upset on his face. “It’s a gorilla skin.”

“Are those even legal?”

“It was from the fourth century.” Jon stares at the scrap of skin, then lets it fall back into the pile. “Orsinov was looking for it. She…she wanted to ‘wear it to dance the world new.’”

A chill runs down Gerry’s spine. “Fuck. It was her costume for the Unknowing.”

Jon gives a single nod. “And in its absence…she needs something powerful.”

“Like the skin of an Archivist. Well, that does it, you’re not allowed to spend a minute alone until Martin gets back.” Gerry scowls at the box, then folds the top closed. “Maybe not even then, but that’s up to him.”

“What if they try for him again?” Jon holds up his hands, backs towards Gerry, showing him the raised scars and chapped edges. “I’m…not in good condition, but…”

“I can’t do anything for him,” Gerry says. “Except protect you.”

Jon slumps and turns away. Something seems to catch his eye, and he moves towards it. Curious, Gerry follows him over to a hard case, dull black with brushed nickel clasps. It could be something simple, like a typewriter or a record player, something left over from Gertrude’s childhood…but he doesn’t say anything, just watches as Jon undoes the buckles and lifts the lid slowly. Both of them stare at the contents for a long time, then look up at each other.

Gerry’s the one to finally break the silence in the end. “Yep. That’ll do it.”

[swagcoolcat]

Hi! I don’t think I got to you yet either. What’s your favorite bmc song? Full rant and everything please >:)

OH MY GOSH YES HI!!!

Anon I’ve been hoping for this ask ever since I started seeing it go around, so I’m so excited, thank you.

I can’t choose one favorite, so I’m gonna share multiple and say what I like about them, with the rants as asked below the cut :)

Two Player Game: This song is really special to me for multiple reasons, the main one being it’s the first song from the musical I ever listened to. I heard this song by chance at a summer camp years ago (2016 or 2017) and then I tried to find it again and failed. Then, again, by chance, it autoplayed on my YouTube while I was listening to music doing homework in April of 2018, and I recognized it and listened to it until I knew the song. This is also my favorite for singing with other people and it’s so fun to sing along to.

A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into: I’ve always been really attached to this song because it’s just so sweet and fun, I love it a lot. I love Christine and Jeremy’s chemistry- both platonic and romantic- and this song displays it so well, because already you can see Christine trusts Jeremy, enough that she’s telling him all about this. She likes him a lot, she likes being around him, and it’s so special. Also, this one is really satisfying to do karaoke of because I learned the timing for an audition, so I sing along to it a lot. Also also, Christine is just like me for real and she’s one of my dream roles, and I personally like this song more than ILPR.

Loser Geek Whatever: THIS SONG IS FUCKING EVERYTHING!!!!! Like the previous two there’s already the sing along value of it. But there’s also a point where I remember listening to this song for the first time. I remember downloading the single to my phone before the Broadway album was released. And man, this song Hit so right for me. Jeremy, in my opinion, definitely benefited this song. This is a big decision for him, going from Jeremy 1.0 to 2.0. It’s a big decision moving on from Michael. And Loser Geek Whatever is such a perfect song for that decision. We know everything going through Jeremy’s head, and it helps us, as the audience, to be more understanding of Jeremy’s choice to continue blocking out Michael. (If he even REALLY had a choice, but that’s getting off track.)

Halloween: I literally just think this song is fun. Specifically the Broadway version of the song, it gets me so pumped up every time I listen to it. I love the energy going into it, and it’s definitely up there for that reason. Plus, you gotta appreciate the choreo the actors learn in the stage version, it’s truly iconic.

Michael in the Bathroom: Full disclosure, Michael has always been my favorite character. It flips now between Michael and Christine, but even then, he’s up there. As I stated with Loser Geek Whatever, this song really benefits Michael as a character, because from what we as the audience have seen, it’s really out of character for him. Throughout the entire musical to this point, Michael is mostly a pretty upbeat and chill guy. We get times where he’s more anxious or insecure (“would you be too cool for… video games?”) and there’s other times where he’s kinda pissed off (“really? so you’re not the one who’s been avoiding me?”), but both of those examples are both quickly followed by his more chill attitude, and both feel different than this situation. Michael is angry in the bathroom scene, and then as soon as Jeremy leaves, he’s sad, and he’s trapped, and he’s scared. This is Michael’s darkest moment in the show (like a lot of characters tbh- Halloween was not a good time), and the fact that we as the audience get to see it? It’s really good for Michael’s character arc. Not to mention the song itself is SO FUN TO SING. This is a song where if I’m driving and I get distracted from singing along, I’ll start the song over so I can sing to all of it.

The Play: OOOOOOOUGH I LOVE THE CHAOS IN THIS ONE!!!! Seeing it on stage through bootlegs is so wonderful, I love how this song is staged, and it being the climax of the show. It s everything. But you don’t need the stage version for this song to be chaotic. I listen mostly to the Broadway version of bmc, and wow. They weren’t fucking around with this one. Jeremy gets to interact with nearly every cast member in this song, and every interaction is wild. In the Broadway version, we actually get to hear Jeremy and Michael’s fight, which in itself is everything to me. There’s the interaction with Chloe and Brooke (which is unsettling at best). There’s Christine!!! THERE’S “THAT’S NOT CHRISTINE AND I’M STRONGER THAN YOU THINK I AM” and then there’s screaming. So much screaming. The screaming in Two River is funnier in my opinion, it’s fucking hilarious, but the screaming is so good regardless, and the the SQUIP dying?????? Chefs kiss. I love the play.

[aijamisespava]

1 Eurovision Hot Take Per Year!

Well, well, well. The results are in, and by a rather nice margin, the choice of "1 Eurovision Hot Take Per Year" won. And I just gotta say, this is certainly one way to kick off the new Eurovision Season!

So, with this one, I've picked one unpopular (or maybe even popular) opinion for each Eurovision Year from 2009 to the most recent one in 2023, as those are the ones that I know all of the songs and have seen some other things (like the stage and what not).

Disclaimer for the road: So these opinions could be good or bad! They are 100% my own and may cause some conversation if that does come up. Are we ready? Let's go!

2009: I...really don't like the stage for this year. I'm sure it looked great at the time, but looking at it now, there's just so much empty space. Some of the smaller, more intimate (think one person at the mic like France's entry that year) risk being hidden away from the bigger entries that try to take up more of the space. In hindsight, the songs themselves really helped propel entries to certain positions, but I found the stage just too big.

2010: Moving away from the 13-year-old debate on whether the winner or the 2nd place entry should have won, I would like to bring up another underrated entry that didn't even make the Grand Final. North Macedonia brought a great song with Gjoko Taneski's "Jas Ja Imam Silata." I like the song enough to call it a favorite, but I don't know if I should consider it a guilty pleasure. And since it was an honorable mention, it never would gave gotten a mention had North Macedonia participated in 2023 in my "Favorite From Each Country" series. So that will be my hot take for 2010. North Macedonia underrated.

2011: I actually liked the Top 3. "Running Scared" is rather pretty, I can never say no to the soft jazz grove of "Madness Of Love," and "Popular" is a kick. The top 3 could literally be in any sort of combination and it would be deserved no matter what.

2012: I ranked Euphoria 8th. I'm sorry. I tried thinking of other hot takes that I may have for 2012 that wouldn't seem like "shock value" but this is all I got. It's a good song, don't get me wrong. I like that it won over others, I have it on Spotify, but it's good. *for the record North Macedonia was my winner that year so yeah...*

2013: This year really kind of grew on me. When I was doing a mental ranking of which years were my favorites, I found 2013 really low at first. I found it strange because there were songs I liked, but I caught myself kind of forgetting it existed sometimes. But as time progressed and I was picking out my favorite entries for each country, I found myself looking at 2013 more often than a year I would consider "weak."

2014: I don't know why, but the stage for this year is my favorite. It's so aesthetically pleasing. It's big without being too big, but not too small where nothing could fit on it. The lighting also helped enhance performances I saw on Youtube.

2015: This was literally anyone's year. For those who have been here for a while, you know that 2015 is my favorite Eurovision year. My winner (Belgium's Loïc Nottet) ended up being one of my favorite artists of all time, and the competition was STACKED. This is one of the few years where the song I ranked last is still one I'd listen to. So, while Sweden did deserve the win that year, so did literally everyone else.

2016: This year was probably the hardest year for me to come up with a hot take. As I had to go to YouTube to see if there was anything I could grab. I decided to go with the reveal of the televoting score. While that would be so cool to have again, I can definitely see the problems with it. The suspense is insane and it may play out as predictable if the jury points gap was too big (think if they did that in 2023).

2017: This is a stronger year than I thought. 2017 has the reputation of being one of the weakest, if not the weakest Eurovision year of the 2010s. And...okay, maybe it is a little bit. BUT there are quite a few good songs that really shine. Some of my favorites come from 2017. Maybe it just needs time to grow, but only time will tell.

2018: The year for underrated gems. A lot of people are really hot and cold when it comes to the winner in 2018. You either love it or hate it. For me, I really wasn't fond of it (and the same goes for 2nd place...roast me all you want). HOWEVER, a lot of my favorites ranked rather low. My winner and 3rd place (Belarus and Switzerland, respectively) didn't even qualify while my 2nd place (Ukraine) finished on the right side of the column. This year is certainly a year worth doing a deep dive on as there are even more entries that finished low that are actually pretty awesome!

2019: This was kind of a weak year. Don't get me wrong, I liked a few of the songs, "Arcade" deserved the win, but there's nothing else for me to talk about this year. To me, it just exists (this may be because it was towards the end of my speedruns back in 2021), and I sometimes forget about it when thinking of other songs.

2020: Iceland could've (and had it happened, would have) won this year. Even though COVID rudely canceled the 2020 contest, fans have thought about what would have happened had the contest actually happened. That includes who might have had the chance to win. And my pick in this game of speculation? Iceland. The televote would have easily given Iceland the head on the field. Why I think so? I was getting ads for that EXACT song on social media...in the US. And as we've seen, going viral could be what makes a Eurovision song a winner. But I guess we'll never know.

2021: Both Måneskin and Gjon's Tears deserved to win. Everyone, I present to you my top 2 of 2021. Aside from the fact that this year was STACKED, these two were the winners of the jury and televote, with Måneskin taking the overall victory. And they deserved it. The hardest thing about ranking Eurovision songs is that all the songs could be of different genres, with no guarantee that there would be overlap. So, genre-wise, both Måneskin and Gjon's Tears brought the best, and it wouldn't have mattered if either won in my eyes.

2022: I actually liked Bulgaria's song. I don't know what it is about it (maybe it's rock, maybe this was my first new Eurovision song as a fan, etc.), but I actually liked "Intention" by Intelligent Music Project. I kept seeing it essentially plummet to the bottom on some other fan rankings, which I guess made it my first "underrated gem." But the novelty of it hasn't worn off as I still play it on Spotify and don't want to skip it.

2023: So many robbed entries. Some of it I understand, especially for the Grand Final televote as a LOT of people were voting for "Cha Cha Cha" to hopefully close the gap the jury would give "Tattoo." But OH MY GOD. I'll spare you my rant on Latvia's NQ because you know how much I love that song. But Slovenia 21st? Serbia 24th? Iceland and Georgia NQ? Spain LAST in televote? Also, Australia winning their televote only Semi to only get...not a lot of points? There are plenty others, but I'll stop there.

[dojae-huh]

My two cents in the whole drama, the jaewoo shippers fighting and creating drama are the ones who have issues with doyoung. Most have become jaewoo shippers just a few months back. Doyoung being popular doesn't sit well with alot of newer nctzens, although doyoung has a quiet fandom but very active one still. Also a person who was there since 2017 0r 2018 knows how close everyone was and how doyoung was the only member nice to woo who they now think bares with him.

Jaewoo fandom was the calmest and fun one, the sudden inflex of ppl has basically made it tough for the popular jaewoo shippers to be popular anymore.

I still don't get the charm of jaewoo but live and let live. I ship them both with a lot of ppl but I still don't enforce my ideals on anyone.

P.S. btw in a fresh interview woo thanked doyoung for always listening to him and supporting him and helping him... And what he said for Jaehyun was that he was hard to get along but know they've learned to (in an indirect way that's basically what he said)

If the fighting shippers were fans of woo they would know how hard he tries to click with jae and still doesn't get the attention. Woo with taeil mark and doyoung are very different to woo with the rest especially Jaehyun and yuta

Doyoung laughed amusedly (and approvingly) at Jungwoo's weiled speech, heh.

You are probably right.

Doyoung wasn't the only one nice to Woo, but he surely was the one who did the most work of support and reassurance.

[rev-feaw]

My Short Review of Honkai: Star Rail after ~2 Weeks

Hi!! This is gonna be my first post here.

If you’re a gacha games observer, Genshin/HI3 player or general Mihoyo enjoyer you are most likely already know that they just released a new game, that is Honkai: Star Rail. I prereg this game and made my account on the first day, and this is my loose review about the game so far. Please note other gacha games I’m currently play daily are Fate/Grand Order and Genshin Impact. I also tried Arknights for some months so maybe there will be comparison to them.

Combat: 7.5/10

I don’t like turn-based system for the God’s sake (looking at you, FGO) but the way they have AUTO really escalated the rate for me. The turn-based here honestly more fun than I thought!

Art: 8/10

OK. As expected

Music: 8/10

What should I critic from Hoyo-Mix

Exploration: 7/10

Please keep in mind this isn’t an exploration-focused game like Genshin. It does, however has funni descriptions about items, reminds me of 2D exploration games (something like Undertale).

Story: 7/10

I’ll be honest I play this just as a ‘gacha addict’ outlet and don’t really pay attention to the story, but imo this one’s harder to digest than Genshin, maybe HI3 player can understand better though.

Characters: 7/10

Not very much attachment too, heheh;; Unlike Genshin where I was very attached to Venti after 3 seconds in the game. But the MC is a menace of society, real rate is THE RULES ARE MEANT TO BE BROKEN/10.

Also they have “chatrooms”!! This is very cool, because I think they can keep any character relevant with this.

P. S. They REALLY need to add more battle voicelines. You’ll go crazy listen to “the rules--” everytime you turn up the volume.

Worldbuilding: 7/10

I’m not much a fan of their worldbuilding concept tbh, I think “planet” as a chapter’s setting is too massive, so many aspects about it left unpolished (one nation/planet isn’t very believable to me). But maybe I just don’t understand well.

Grinding: 9/10

AUTO mode is gamechanger. You also can change a relic’s main stat once/patch. Honestly this is the one that can make me linger around longer in this game. GI and FGO both aren’t this forgiving in time spent on farming :’D

Also unlike Arknights, u don’t need three stars or something to start AUTO your way out.

Endgame: 9/10

NGL, this game has better endgame content than Genshin. A LOT. It has something called “Stimulation Universe”. I think it’s similar to Arknights’ Annihilation that reset every week and earn rewards based on points. So rejoice if you’re strategy games enjoyer and like to play around with character builds, this game is good for you.

Gacha: 5/10

Why even bother. Just go with your starter characters.

UI/UX: 7/10

Dear Mihoyo: SKIP and LOG button WHEN??!!

Overall enjoyment: 7.8/10

Yeah weird numbers, but this is my overall, subjective rate. This won’t be my main game but since they’re not as grindy as my other games I think I can keep up by just playing casually. The minimal amount of grind also helped in increasing enjoyment in the overall strategy gameplay.

Unlike when u play Arknights where you have to massively build so many characters with so limited items and pretty hard stages (even for farming for early player) or Genshin with their chaotic artifacts farming..or FGO with their horrendous amount of doing the same 3-turns farming manually. If I had to go through things like that again here, I’ll drop the game immediately.

End Note (if still want to read, or just skip, lol)

If Star Rail was published before Genshin I doubt I’ll ever try it. Back then the only gacha game that can keep me for so long was only FGO (Since 2017, dear God) because I was soooo invested with their story and characters despite I have a massive hatred with their gameplay (lol). 

I often got HI3 ads on Youtube and I thought their visual is cool. But the game itself never interest me, because the playable characters are like 99% waifu so no, I prefer to have pretty balanced amount of dudes and chicks. Then in late 2020 Genshin was released, and I’m like... this is the one... the one I’ve been waiting for!!!!

I may write other long essays about why I was drawn to Genshin very much. And I was right, it was the only game that can pull me out from my FGO exclusivity, and made me realize that HI3 was not just a mere “waifu” game, and they give faith for me about HSR that was still in the beta back then.

Tl;dr Honkai: Star Rail is good. Don’t worry.

[thatneilj]

Game of the Year 2017

Originally Posted in January 2018

*2024* - I have been writing these game of the year posts since 2017 but for some reason the little intro didn't make it into my archive for this year. Oops!

Honorables

Mario Odyssey

This game is joyful, expansive, and rewards exploration. Unfortunately, I have found that after 400+ moons, I still find the controls to be a bit frustrating. On top of that, while the capturing mechanic is fun, I find I most of the time I would rather some solid Mario platforming. That said, Uproot is the best!

Sonic Mania

The first video game I ever owned was Sonic the Hedgehog 2. While my love for Sonic has never truly gone away, I have skipped the majority of Sonic titles over the last 15 or so years. Sonic Mania is zeroing in on the old stuff I grew up with. Sonic Mania invites me back to my hometown to party with friends i’ve not seen since the 90s, and makes it feel like none of us ever drifted apart.

Wolfenstein: The New Colossus

If you told me 5 years ago that Wolfenstein would be a franchise that rises above killing Nazis to tell a story with some of the most well-realized characters in modern media I would have laughed at you. But here we are. Machine Games gave BJ Blazkowicz a backstory that makes him feel believable despite the insanity that is his world. This game is amazing, except for the part where the level design and difficulty get in the way of seeing the story play out.

5. CUPHEAD

I got to this game a bit later than most. Sure I had seen the fantastic art bringing that 1930s cartoon style to life. I had heard the soundtrack full of big band scores and incredible jazz that broke onto the Billboard charts. I had even heard the developers at Studio MDHR talking about their inspirations, including Megaman X, one of my favorite games of all time. Not until I put my hands on the game did I realize just how perfect it all is together.

The controls are tight and responsive in a way that prevents deaths from feeling like bullshit, despite the difficulty. The music can be frantic, mirroring perfectly the insanity on the screen, which helps draw you in without becoming distracting. And those smooth visuals truly do bring each boss to life. Often weird and creepy life, but that is right in line with those old cartoons. Seriously, some of those old things are the stuff of nightmares.

4. HELLBLADE: SENNUA’S SACRIFICE

 Hellblade was quite hard for me to play. While that sounds negative right from the jump, that is part of why I liked it so much. It wasn’t a hard game, it was a hard experience. It was hard for me to listen to these disembodied voices telling me I’m not good enough as they danced around my head. It was hard for me to watch Sennua break down and cry with such raw emotion. The game is a technical marvel at realizing Melina Juergens’ performance.

(https://www.polygon.com/2017/9/15/16316014/hellblade-senuas-sacrifice-mental-illness)

While the game’s depiction of psychosis has come under fire for some legitimate concerns, its depiction of the symptoms is impressive. And watching the Making Of short included in the game was rather fascinating. I cannot think of any other big studio taking the time and doing the research to try and get this stuff right. Hellblade was hard for me to play because it was effective in making those symptoms feel real and tangible in a way I simply don’t have in my normal life.

3. HOLLOW KNIGHT

Here’s what I knew about Hollow Knight when I was going in: “It’s kind of like a Metroid game.” Now, I have loved a lot of action-exploration games, particularly when they make some bigger changes to the tried and true formula. Hollow Knight had me unsure at the start from the art style, the floaty jump, and the mapping system. But as I played more of the game, I found myself getting drawn in deeper and deeper. I realized it is a blend of two series I love; Metroid and Dark Souls.

Once I got the dash, movement started feeling good. Once I reached the City of Tears, the aesthetic had me catching my breath. Once I had all the maps… well, actually that damn map stuff is seriously annoying. I didn’t care anymore though, I was engrossed. The story of this bug-filled world is fascinating, and told at the edges for those who want to look. The action is can be punishing with big bosses, precision platforming, and combat that requires intention. This game had me yelling at some challenges, and yet I wanted more, even after the 35 hours I took to beat it.

2. A HAT IN TIME

3D platformers were back this year, back in a way I couldn’t even keep up with. First, we had Yooka-Laylee coming from a bunch of ex-Rare developers making a new Banjo. I missed this one, but heard mostly not-great things. At the end of the year we had Mario Odyssey, where the mission based worlds were done away with for free-form exploration and excitement. But right in the middle of those was A Hat in Time, a game that felt more like Mario 64 in structure, but with so much more.

I knew next to nothing about A Hat in Time when a friend gave it to me to check out. And I soon learned that Jon ‘JonTron’ Jafari had a cameo voice role in it. With that stink on the project I still found myself falling in love. From the very beginning you get a wonderful cartoon style that lends itself so well to the cuteness of Hat Girl. You go down to the first world and find personality dripping throughout the whole island of Mafia men. You meet mustache girl, become friends, and learn how crazy she is. And then, after all this, you get to go to a new world where two birds are competing to make you a movie star.

This game just made me happy the whole damn time I played it. And yet, it is full of choices that seem insane and shouldn’t work. Why not put a silly Metal Gear Solid stealth mechanic into this level? Why not give people an MSpaint mini-game just for fun? Why not pretend we’re a horror game for one mission? Apparently there is no reason not to do these things, if you do them right. Fact is, they did it all right while still giving us wonderful world design, fantastic platforming, genuinely funny writing, and the cutest character ever! If you dash and don’t jump out of it, Hat Girl will just lie on her belly and wiggle her feet in the air while she daydreams!

1. NIER: AUTOMATA

Nier: Automata is a very flawed game. The world you run through feels pulled out of a game from 2004 with all the invisible walls. The Platinum Games influence is clear in the combat, but in many ways feels stripped down and shallow in comparison to some of their past works. The most damning thing, though, is how long it takes to get through Route A. But if you push through all of this, if it gets its hooks in, it is a game that does something special.

Nier has, at its core, an ethos about the world. Not just through some story telling beats about the nature of androids. It goes so much farther. Where many sci-fi stories in more modern media look at how robots can be human, Nier ask what it is to even be human. Yet it does this in a story about androids who should be devoid of emotion. Entities with a task to fight a war that is never ending, on a world that refuses to forget people. A world that really doesn’t need people anymore anyway.

The game is thick with this pervading sense of despair. It isn’t just the crumbled buildings and rusted robots. It is every character you meet, each side story that seems to inevitably end in a place worse than before. It is in the loving couple that want to desert the war, it is in the thinking robots looking out over vistas, and it is in Father Servo who wants to be the best fighter. It is in the main story, when it takes you back through Route A from a different perspective. And it only becomes more intense in the later parts of the game.

This game is my game of the year because it is going to stick with me. Because I watched someone go against everything they stand for to save what they care about, only to lose it all from their own choices. Because I had to put down my controller for over 30 minutes, staring at my avatar idling in a dark and depressing room, trying to decide which choice I could live with. Because as each belief about the nature of the world was pulled away, showing me just how wrong I was, and how pointless trying to change it was. Their all robots right? They are programed for this.

This game is going to stick with me because, despite all of this and so much more, it managed to pull away the magic circle. It gave me an ending full of loss, full of satisfaction, and somehow full of hope.