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xikyuu · 3 months ago

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“oc question #3: if they could have a real life conversation with you, how would it go?” curtesy of ‘_..darr1ingz.._’ on tiktok.

at some point, the conversation became one-sided and more of me psychoanalyzing them. it kinda resembles a letter format, but if you pay attention, there are gaps where it seems like dallas (he/him) responds. extra notes are at the top of my tags. have fun reading!

total words: 2,329. writing under cut:

i’d ask dallas what its like to see all these worlds. yes, i know i made you and the conversations you have but i desire connection i cannot have.

what is kismadoré actually like when everything is sewn together lovingly? did you feel loved, even if it was temporary? are the city streets worn down with love and care? does it show the world that city of life is, indeed, living? that there is water in it’s roots?

what’s your handwriting like? did you ever decide to go to college in a universe? if so, what was your major? did you get multiple degrees? what was your favorite class? least favorite? favorite teacher? do you have a favorite fun fact? please tell me.

where there times you were genuinely scared for your life? are you afraid of me? of the complete power and creation i hold over you? i’m so sorry i hurt you.

do you have a favorite stuffed animal?

what was your father’s name? do you hate me for what i did to him? do you hate me for what i did to your mother? do you hate me? i caused all this hurt for you. you could’ve survived if i gave you a happy life. i could’ve made you a loving father, but i don’t know what that looks like. i could’ve gave you your mother, but i’ve never seen my mother and father exist in the same place and not be at each other’s throats. do you forgive me? please don’t forgive me. i love you. i wish i could be you. do you hate me? i killed alibi. i killed skip. i killed you. they’re dead because of me. they had to start a rebellion because of me. your father is cruel and evil because of me. would you kill me if you had the chance? do you wish you could see them again? i’m so sorry.

you know this is real, right? you are real. you exist because i exist. i made you and i am still making you. you are something i will always come back to. you make me happy. you make my friends happy. they love you. yes, really. i wouldn’t lie to you about that.

did you know alibi is based off my friend? they created kit’s design. i made alibi into themself. did you know that one of the potential names for alibi was mochi? there was supposed to be another in the resistance crew. i scrapped them early on.

what’s it like to shoot a gun and know every shot has killed? i’m sorry. is the metal cold to the touch? does it burn your hands with memories? does your finger still sit perfectly on the trigger? even if you try to bury the subconscious knowledge of how to do anything with that wretched thing? it’s why you got your namesake, after all. i’m sorry. i don’t like guns, either. i wanted you to be safe.

you need to let go of the mask. stop pretending you are fine. people want to help. remember what we say about communication? it is key.

who was the person who killed you? i don’t know who they are, just that they were misguided and brainwashed into hating you. i’m so sorry. you could’ve had another friend before you died.

what’s your favorite plant? did you ever hide in the willow trees like they were curtains? what is the easiest tree to climb? does that one tree still have bark torn off from how often you guys tried to climb it? do you remember the tree that bore fruit and attracted the many flutters of butterflies? and how they rested gently on your hands and chest? how you held out your arm and several would perch on your arm like it was an extension of the tree? and didn’t that one butterfly land on your nose? did you have fun?

theres so much pressure on you. i’m sorry.

juno and asmo are okay. they survived. you know this, right? i’m sorry you didn’t get to see them heal. they miss you.

do you still wish on acorns? do you still play the violin? do you still dance in the rain with a big smile on your face? do you still dance around the tall bonfire to songs of kismá? and what of the picnics in flower fields?

i’m sorry you had to hide guns in a basket of flowers. i’m sorry you had to be paranoid and hypervigilant. i’m sorry i ruined your breathing with the orange gas.

do you still share folk stories to the multiverse about kismadoré?

whats your favorite color? is it green like me? how is it that we are so similar but so different? i made you in my own image, but the mirror reflecting me is distorted.

whats your favorite form to stay in? do you have any favorite jewelry pieces? what is your favorite dessert?

you can see the indents from when i made you—like clay. does that mean i messed up or does it show the care that i put into you? molding you until you grew into something i cannot be?

do you have a favorite memory? do you have more? what was it like to sit in the desert at a campfire, surrounded by people you love? did you have the heart to say that you might not survive this run to freedom? what was your reaction to the walls falling? i’m sorry your home is so corrupt.

what new dishes came about in kismadoré that i’ll never be able to try? what cultures meshed to make one giant city? had anyone ever tried mixing soul food and japanese together?

what songs play at the funeral rites? what colors do you wear to mourn?

do you still know cardinal directions like the back of your hand? it’s because of the compass, right? does kismadoré have an official animal? official dish? is it recognized on maps? if it isn’t, i’ll write it into canon. how many people live in kismadoré? i know the initial population was small. oh wow. that’s a lot.

whats some of the funniest reactions people have had to your powers?

are your fingers burnt from the fires? do you lose sensation in them sometimes? does the cold make your bones hurt? i know it does for me. how bad are the scars in person? i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry.

do you have a favorite book? what genre do you like? i have so many recommendations. do you have any for me?

do you draw? paint? can i see? it’s totally okay if you don’t want to show me. how’s your poetry coming along? any favorite symbols you love to throw in? yeah, floriography is great.

were you aware when asmo blessed you as you bled out in her lap? she recited the poem. ‘may the stars be there to guide you.’ that one.

i’m sorry. i took you away right after you finally got your freedom. do you think that’s cruel of me? you got it eventually, just not in the way you expected.

what is time like if time is not linear?

you know you are allowed to be loud, right? it is your right. it is in your nature. kismá calls to ask you why you aren’t screaming and yelling and singing and crying and clapping and stomping and dancing and whistling and humming and laughing and breathing and living and why are you not shaking the stars with excitement and joy because you are loved, my dear, did you know that? did you know that your heart beats in your chest, even if it is out of tune? the blood in your veins makes music you cannot even comprehend. the wind makes a sound that we can copy and sing along with. the water is clean for you to wade into. kick it around and laugh. your clothes get wet, but that is nature. the wind will hug you as it passes. its cold but it means well. the flowers dance even in the midst of a hurricane and so will we. we will dance even when crying. that is the beauty of it. sá boé dáli, sá baoyă dáli.

do you still think of them? the nostalgia is lethal. but does lethality even matter to someone who cannot die? do you indulge yourself with poison just to wonder what could have been? when did you forget their faces? when did you forget their voices? do you know this is self-destructive? of course you don’t care.

does your home still affect you? are you kintsugi pretending to be a person? do you know where each you used to be? where on your porcelain vessel lays the tiles of the child soldier? the fake confidence and paranoia of the resistance leader? the people-pleaser? the scared child? and did you get your eyes from the gods who remade you? the gods who held your cracked form gently and helped heal you? at what point are you not a person anymore? how cracked is the still, cold heart that rests in your chest cavity? it contains every person you once were and will be. you can take the man out of the walls, but the walls came crumbling down and embedded themselves into your then fragile, human skin. you can try to pick out the concrete but it’s stuck, it’s there. just like the shrapnel from the bullets that fused themselves to your corpse. you can run, but you can’t hide. you can never avoid the past. do you even want to?

you forget you aren’t human. not anymore. even so, you cling onto humanity like a child crying for their parents. you feel emotions as deeply as the next. you stand next to a human in a vessel that is dead and wonder why you feel as if you don’t belong. your empathy is damaging. your mannerisms mimic something you aren’t. hold onto this. pray for more. do not loose it.

how do you manage your anger? where do you feel it? that’s interesting. can you feel it twist itself between the valves and chambers of your heart? do the thorns of malice pierce your lungs? do you wish it would stop burning in your chest? do you ever have a sick satisfaction with you shoot off insults? do you feel regret when you snap at a loved one? when does it spread to your throat and take it’s wretched hands and choke you? when does it embrace your shoulders in justice? do you give people what they deserve? and what happens if they don’t deserve it? whenever will your lungs be damaged from the live coals that simmer? do you ever cough up the smoke? and when do you grab that gun and deliver retribution? is anger a welcome feeling for you? do you hate the thought of hatred itself? that would be funny. or is it that you fear who you become when you are this monster born of emotions, ash spewing from cracked lips with magma burning in your eyes?

and how do you feel about violence? is it an unremovable part of you? is it in your brain and does tends to stick no matter how hard it clings to your amygdala? what would you be without it? do you still remember how to kill a man? the best place to hit with the bat covered in rusty nails? does the blood still drip from your fingers and onto the floor? do you still feel that automatic reaction to pull out the gun whenever anything bad happens? do you forget how to care about the blood dripping from your fingers? did you still crave it? do you crave for the thing that raised you? do you ever smile when you shoot? have you become desensitized? you hate it. you hate it so much. you love it. the rush of adrenaline. you hate that you crave it. you pull your lips back into a sick and bloody smile when the tyrant is dead. you were numb the first time it happened. why are you so conflicted?

was death cold? what form did it take, if any at all? did it embrace you or was it so sudden that you thought your neck broke? did it unsettle you or did you feel comfortable? or did you feel nothing at all? after all, most are nothing in death. who was the first to meet you? to come and take your hand and lead you to the Garden? and how many times did you refuse that you were safe in Their care? how many times did you die after that until you finally cracked and sobbed and went down that road of healing? did you expect to see your old family in death?

what’s it like holding stardust in your palms? to be able to peek in at universes? to be able to walk among worlds like you are a part of it yourself? what’s it like being everything and nothing at once? can you hold the multiverse’s mysteries in your many arms? do your wings ever get in the way? what’s seeing like with that many eyes? to be so human and so otherly that you are stuck in an eternal venn-diagram, comparing your every move with that of your mortal past and your immortal future? but the past is the future and the future is the past, right? how silly of me to forget.

what will you do from here? now you’ve met me? am i everything you thought of? am i so different from your expectations? am i pressing too hard? wouldn’t you already know this? you’re made to know everything.

i’m sorry for everything, by the way. i think you knew that— yeah. come visit me again. ‘May The Stars guide you.’

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spiralling-thoughts · 3 months ago

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do you have any bobbin headcanons?

You ask me about any of tbosas tributes and I guarantee that I'll have something and bobbin is one of my favourite characters so LET'S GO *Crack fingers*

- his father died due to the peacekeepers executing him and is raised by a single mother

He lost his arm when he was 5 years old because he was collecting cotton underneath a dangerous machine his twin was the one who dragged him from under it

-thier grandma lives with them although she has Alzheimer's and tends to forget that bobbin lost his arm and Lacey lost two of her fingers so whenever she asks them about it they come up with different stories about it it's very much normal for bobbin and Lacey to make fun of their disabilities but they don't let anyone make fun of it

- have a twin sister named Lacey and a younger brother named wooly he and Lacey have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't get in trouble so bobbin is used to looking after someone

Once graffiti the peacekeepers base

His ma is a very tough lady and she's the one who taught him how to kill someone with a sewing needle and yells at anyone who messes with her children and is kinda feared in their neighborhood and bobbin enjoys watching her go off on someone and he likes to copy her way of talking

- he and wovey are neighbours and when wovey's mother died he and Lacey comforted her during the funeral and bobbin s mother said that wovey is under her protection and she became like a second mother to wovey

- he loves wearing bright colours and had dreams of visiting the beaches of district 4 as there are no beaches or much nature in district 8 so he's grandma sewid aquatic embroidery on his clothes and

- some of the girls in the factory that he worked in had a crush on him but he didn't know who to choose, so he pretended he didn't notice

- doesn't stand anyone messing with his family and friends, anyone who dares doing that would face his wrath

- made friends with other kids who lost limbs in the factory he works in it's very common for that happening in district 8

- is knowledgeable about medical stuff as he regularly had to help his cowerekers who get injured it also made him unphased by blood he has seen some stuff in the factory he works in

- was very protective of wovey throughout their journey to the capitol and in the zoo and even let her cuddle him when she would be scared

- absolutely hated hilarius and Juno and couldn't stand them, he also wanted to punch lucky in the face

- managed to get some food by telling people how their clothes were made although not much because he's attitude wasn't to their liking and some kids were disgusted by him ( yeah he faced a lot of aibliseim in the capitol)

- befriend mizzen as he would ask him about district 4 but he mostly kept to himself and wovey was who would interact the most with him

- defended wovey from capitol folks who were bullying her

#thanks for the ask!#tbosas tributes #bobbin tbosas #district 8

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doevademe · 2 years ago

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That last son of Aphrodite Nico post has me thinking about amnesiac Nico, so can you give some headcanons for an au where Hera doesn’t trust Nico enough to let him keep his memories, like him going back and forth through the camps after saving Hazel until his memories get taken but nobody except for Hazel is worried until Percy gets his memories back. And when they finally find him they wouldn’t have the time to deal with helping him get his memories back!!! I think itd be so good if everything went the same way it did in canon especially if he gets his memories back during the Cupid scene 😭😭

Amnesiac Nico AU

Nico arrives to Camp Jupiter a few days after Jason disappears, without any memories.

Hazel tries filling the blanks as best as she can, but Nico is a very private person, and there's a lot she doesn't know.

General consensus among the Romans is: Not a Legionnaire, not our problem, and the Greek side doesn't notice he's missing for a while, and Percy's own vanishing takes priority.

The "I know you" "Do you?" exchange is completely sincere here. Both Percy and Nico are certain they know each other, but don't know who or what they were to each other.

They are joined at the hip the whole time, just talking about vague memories and trying to piece their shared pasts. Hazel watches them, hopeful Nico will remember himself.

Nico dreams with Thanatos the night Mars appears. He tells him that he can't go with Percy, Hazel and Frank, as his role is to find the Doors of Death.

Percy kisses Nico before going their separate ways ("I'm not sure if it's something we did before, but it's what feels right."). Nico goes, thinking that maybe this is what Juno was trying to keep from them.

When Percy gets his memories back, he feels like he took advantage of Nico. He obviously hates him, yet he believes they are something else because of his amnesia. He promises himself to help Nico remember whatever it takes.

Percy feels even worse when Annabeth because he unknowingly betrayed her. He confesses what he did, and Annabeth begins avoiding him.

Jump to Nico's rescue. When he wakes up, he smiles at Percy and mumbles he knew he would find him. He's still memory wiped, and Percy doesn't know how to break it to him.

Nico notices he remembers, though, and asks about them. Percy only says their relationship is not quite what they thought, but that they always end up protecting each other ("That's enough for me," he says, happy). Percy promises to help him get his memories back too.

Percy falls with Annabeth. Nico despairs. Hazel tells him that Percy and Annabeth are dating. Nico is torn between hating Percy, and understanding that they were both misunderstanding their relationship.

Outwardly, Nico acts like it's no big deal, that he and Percy were completely platonic, but inside, Nico suffers because he realized he's in love, and he doesn't know if that was the case before he lost his memories.

Cupid wants him to be honest about his feelings, but Nico refuses because he doesn't want to burden Percy, his friend. Cupid's arrows show him glimpses of his past, and he ends up admitting that he fell for Percy, not once, but twice.

Cupid shoots him once more and Nico remembers everything, and feels like throwing up. How on Earth was he acting like a love-struck fool with Percy, in public? And even admitted it in front of Jason Grace?

Canon happens, Percy and Annabeth get back. Percy goes to hug Nico when they reunite, but Nico just says, "I remember now, so you can stop pretending."

Percy is hurt. Nico is hurt. They go their separate ways. Angst abounds.

Percy realizes he's betraying Annabeth again, because he keeps going back to kissing Nico. He wanted to do it again when he left with Reyna and Hedge. He breaks up with Annabeth in Athens.

Canon happens again. Nico confesses to Percy, hoping to just get it over with and move on, but Percy surprises him by confessing back.

#story outline #Percico #long post #ask #anonymous

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skeletonstarz · 2 months ago

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All aboard I'm fucking seething

Blizzard you stupid whinny piece of fossilized mammoth shit. Another anime Collab? Another Collab in general??? Overwatch used to be a game with obvious flaws but those flaws had heart to them (usually.) now fucking...MHA Collab?? Oh let me guess the characters! Should be interesting considering Reinhardt, kiriko, mercy, Pharah, genji, reaper, tracer have been the ONLY FUCKING CHARACTER'S TO GET ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL THE SHOP SKINS NOW

So fucking tired like yeah they are great cosmetics I reallllly like these skins! Surprised. They aren't bad. Its just sad seeing how the only thing that the richies in charge of the company think..."yes...yes...get more...COLLABS" like u just had one with yourselves.

I'm seeing alot of people say ramattra should have been all might and I agree ( however I knew that if they did this Collab Rien would be the ultimate choice for all might..)

But my god...I could go on and on about how I personally feel that kiriko is a big ass mistake of a character. Now don't frown ☹️ because I main her I get to hate her and I do hate her but I have a bit of love for her. But SHE IS NOT THE POSTER CHILD I AND I WILL SHOVE THIS DOWN PEOPLES THROATS. She will NEVER be the poster child. There are already two. Winton and tracer. Never kiriko or Juno or whatever fucking new character comes out. Although I wouldn't mind Sojourn or junker queen as new poster children, they have my endorsement.

Now I know this aint serious at all but it is to me. As a ten year old I'd plead with my poor poor family to buy overwatch for years because I was obsessed (heavily fixated) with overwatch. It was a whole new world for me to dive in and tracer is the reason I pretend to be British! So I must give my hand to her.

So many people have brought up amazinggggg ideas for lore cosmetics/animations/sprays/voice lines etc, but no all we get is dull overused franchises. We could have Lifeweaver in his science fit, ...more sojourn skins...., THERE ARE IDEAS I'm blanking tbh

Clenches fists white froth coming out of my mouth

veins popping up upon my forehead and arms

I could make overwatch overwatch again...

But no one knows that....

I main D.va by the way like she's my most played and I'm bronze cause why would I actually try to rank up? I play to win bitch not to brag

Although D.va to me is a very neutral Aroace she/her transmasc socially tired kinda guy. No one gets her like I Do. She probably drinks diet soda for the taste like i do, totally

Yeah NGL I dont be shipping D.va, Hanzo, illari, Juno with anyone...it makes me gag and ya know I obviously don't ship the omnics or animals

However u can ship omnics with humans (I personally might start a Sombra x zen just for the hell of it ) I say that because In certain maps there are posters with human omnic romances, and yeah I'm one of those ram and zen r brothers brothers people. If u ship ram and zen keep it to urself I'm very hostile when it comes to shipping...it's a job not a fun hobby for this man. Aka me I'm the man ♂️😂

Okay I won't out right bully you for shipping but I'm also not gonna be very considerate in the way I talk about said ships..

Like I can't STAND dead by daylight ships...my word so bad...HOW DO U GET JAKE PARK AND MICHAEL CUCKING MYERS AS... BOYFRIENDS?? i have been bamboozled for 6 years with that one. Or GHOSTFACE AND MICHEAL?? GUYS MICHAEL DOES NOT WANNA BE KISSING THESE MEN. Wait hold on. Let me make another post about ships I hate I'm passionate now

Turbo-tastic!

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zara-mayfield-silva · 1 year ago

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Sunday Sibling Brunch || Self Para

Date: January 16th, 2022 Time: 11:47 am Location: Juno’s Bakery & Cafe, Boston, MA

Zara’s getting married. Yes, hard to believe; and her siblings probably won’t believe it when she tells them either, but well, it’s happening. And soon. Now there’s just the matter of actually telling them. She wants to do it in person, not over the phone. But here’s the deal. It’s hard to get all three of the younger Mayfield siblings together in one place at the same time. They’re busy people; all adults with lives to cater to.

However, there is one saving grace they have, and have always seemed to uphold. And that is their every third Sunday of the month sibling brunch. Sonya had invited herself to a few of these brunches, on occasion. In fact, when she first found out the younger Mayfield’s all went to something without her, she would come out of spite. Though Sonya has always loved to pretend to play the part of the, ‘older, far more eloquent and mature,’ Mayfield sibling, who’s, ‘above it all,’ she actually hates being excluded. Especially when it involves all of them. The FOMO gets the better of her.

Still, despite Sonya’s occasional intrusions, it’s been about a year since any of them have actually properly seen or talked to her, let alone at their sibling brunches. But she’s got three kids now, two of which are rather young, so maybe she’s got other things to worry about…Two out of four of the siblings live in Boston, so that makes things easier.

Sonya stayed in New York, and lives with her husband and three children in Greenwich Village. She still works for the New York Times; one of their top editors, so Zara and the family have heard.

Heath moved to Boston right before Zara did when he started playing for the Boston Red Sox right out of college. He’s been with them ever since, and is now getting towards the end of his career, thinking about retiring. Heath’s a photographer, though, and a damn good one at that. So at least he has something to fall back on if he wants to.

Beth moves around a lot for her job, depending on where there’s a gallery in need of an art curator. Right now, she’s living in New Jersey visiting Boston for the long weekend. She’s staying with Zara and Javier, and quite frankly, it’s been hard to hide the exciting new news she wants to share with the both of them.

The three of them have always been close. Growing up, they did a lot for each other, and basically raised one another. Heath used to braid his younger sister’s hair for them before school, and beat up their bullies. He even taught them how to beat up their own bullies when he couldn’t be around to do it anymore. Zara served as a wingman for both Heath and Beth, as well as taught Heath how to talk to girls. She also taught Beth how to play the guitar.

Beth would help Heath pick out outfits to wear on his dates, like…she’s the only reason he has style. And she taught Zara how to be patient, and kind. It’s because of them, she didn’t completely go, ‘off the deep end,’ when things always seemed to go south for her, or their family. They always have each other, even if one of them (particularly Zara) pushes the other away. They don’t leave the other behind.

So it’s nice that today, at their sibling brunch, Zara can share good news with them rather than bad. There’s been a lot of sibling brunch’s of them sitting down to bad news, particularly on Zara’s end. Today though, today she gets to share that she’s engaged to her favorite person.

As they sit down, the host gives them their menus and fills their waters. Heath’s just come from practice, so his hair is wet from a quick shower, and he’s thrown on a forest green polo, a pair of black slacks, and some nice looking green velvet loafers for their sake. He doesn’t have to, but something in all of them feels the need to be presentable when going out in public even still, all these years later. Can take the kid out of politics, but you can’t take the politics out of the kid…

Beth, of course, is dressed to perfection. Out of all of them, she’s always taken the award of best dressed. She’s got these cute strappy peach sandals on, paired with a floral v-neck sundress, and a floppy sun hat that matches her shoes. Her sunglasses match her dress, and they're big and round, much like her eyes when she takes them off. Zara’s a bit more muted with her all black attire; going for her classic Doc Martens, a ripped Van Halen tank top, a pair of black jean shorts, and brown visors covering her eyes.

They’re all so different, yet they get along so well…it’s interesting to see. Maybe they’re bonded by trauma, maybe they actually do just have personalities that mesh well and get along. Maybe it’s both; who knows. At the very least they’re trying, unlike some of their other family members…

When the host walks away to give them time with the menus and they wait for the waiter, Beth is the first one to pipe up, taking off her sunglasses now that they're in the comfort of a shaded table outside.

“What the fuck is up with you two, huh? It’s been like, a month, since I’ve talked to you, Heath. And three weeks for you, Zara. That might be my fault because I just moved and I’m working a lot…” she pauses, finger raised, eyeing her siblings.

Zara raises her brow and sips her water, looking at Heath. He does the same, near perfectly mirroring his sister’s actions.

“Okay stop, I have a good excuse! I’m grinding!”

“Oh, she’s grinding, Zara did you hear that?”

“I heard her say she has a good excuse, Heath, but I hardly think grinding, is an excuse-”

“Okay, alright, losers, so what’s your excuse then, hm? You helped me move to Jersey, and then you totally bailed!”

“Yeah, because you moved to Jersey City.”

Zara nearly spits out her water, leaning over to smack her brother's arm as she stifles back laughter and ducks her younger sister’s eyesight. He’s sitting right next to her, so it’s not hard for him to smack her back. Now they’re in a smacking fight, while Beth rolls her eyes at them, and hits them both from across the table.

“Ha, fucking ha, assholes. It’s not even that bad, and it’s a train ride from New York, so. Who’re the real losers here, yah Bostonites, or…whatever the hell y’all are called,” Beth snorts, sipping her water and looking over the menu.

“I’m not married to this place like you are, so,” Zara puts up her hands, looking towards Heath.

He rolls his eyes, and flicks water from his glass towards Beth. “It’s great here, and you just don’t know it yet.”

“Hey!” Beth flicks water back at him and laughs.

“Well the people aren’t any nicer, and it certainly isn’t, and can’t be more diverse than New York, so. She has you there,” Zara points out, shrugging towards her brother.

He gasps, “who’s side are you on, dude?”

“Definitely not Boston’s, I don’t give a shit, dude,” Zara chuckles, and Beth snorts, covering her mouth when Heath looks put out.

“I mean, I don’t even know if I’m gonna live here in a year. Javier and I might wanna move somewhere else,” she points out.

Beth and Heath both look at each other with raised brows. “Why, you got something to say, Z?” Heath asks, leaning back in his chair.

Well shit. Boston has always been Heath and Zara’s thing. They both live here, and their mom tasked Heath with taking care of Zara when she first enrolled at Turning as, ‘punishment,’ for bad behavior. Heath was the only person Zara knew in Boston for a long time, so they spent a lot of time together here, getting to know the place.

But, well…it’s Heath’s place. Not hers. He was here first, and she just showed up for the time being until the next adventure came along. Now…well, now that next adventure is here, and it may be time for a change. Who knows. Javier and Zara haven’t really talked about that yet. They both have lives here, so…why change any of that just yet? And besides, they have some loose ends to take care of before they want to even think about leaving. Like The Grid, for example…

“I’m not moving, it’s not that,” Zara starts, pausing when she sees the waiter approaching.

They all order drinks, and some bread appetizer that they know they’ll all eat. Once the waiter is gone, Zara turns back to her siblings and waves her hand in the air.

“I’m not moving,” she says again, and Beth flicks her to go on.

“I’m getting married. I’m engaged. To Javier, obviously,” she adds, as if it isn’t obvious. Heath nearly chokes in his water, and Beth gasps, and puts her hands on either side of the table to brace it.

“What?! Wait…what?!” Beth nearly shakes the table.

“When did that happen? Do Ri and Nat know?” Heath questions, picking up her left hand to examine it. “And where the fuck is the ring? He got you a ring, right?”

“Dude, chill the fuck out; he gave me a ring. It's just around my neck right now because I was waiting to tell you guys. Eesh. Y’all are worse than mom,” Zara chuckles, reaching up to unclasp the metal chain the ring Javier gave her is hanging on for safe keeping.

“And yeah, Jav told them the other night over dinner. I think he and Ri called Nat to tell her the news.” She leans over to give it to Beth first, then obviously she can pass it around for show and tell. These frickin’ nerds…

“Man…I kinda feel like he should have asked for my permission, or something.”

Zara snorts loudly and turns to Heath in an exaggerated way. “Excuse me? What am I, a piece of meat? I’m not for sale, my guy.”

“Yeah what the fuck, Heath? That’s like, so archaic of you? You’ve got three sisters, just… be better.” Beth muses without looking up from examining the ring.

“Yo, this is actually gorgeous, though. Javier did good,” Beth says, handing the ring to Heath next. He takes it, gives it a look over, then whistles.

“Alright, I take back what I said before. My man Javier spent a pretty penny on this one. And he knows my sister well. It’s black, just like her soul,” he jokes as he hands the ring back to Zara, who punches his shoulder a few times.

“Asshole,” Zara hisses at him while Beth laughs and Zara takes her ring back. Enough show and tell, now it can go where it’s supposed to. On her damn ring finger.

The waiter comes back with their drinks and the bread appetizer they ordered a few moments later. A Coke for Zara, an Arnold Palmer for Beth, and a Bloody Mary for Heath.

“How long’s it been now?” Heath asks, pointing to Zara’s Coke.

“Two years in April,” Zara smiles proudly as she sips her Coke; having been referring to her sobriety. It’s been almost two years since she decided to get sober after Kishan’s death. Crazy, how times flies, and how the anniversary of his death has managed to sneak up on them like this. It sort of makes sense, what with everything going on.

“Congrats, sis, that’s great!” Heath puts his hand up for a high five, which Zara meets with her own.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great, but when’s the wedding?” Beth waves her hands in the air, musing aloud.

“Dude,” Zara laughs, shaking her head.

“What?! I love love, and weddings, and I didn’t think we’d get another one so soon after Heath’s.”

“Heath’s wedding was like, over a year ago!”

“It was eight months ago, but, who’s counting,” Heath shrugs.

“Okay…” Zara rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders. “What do y’all want from me, huh? It’s not my fault Heath and Willow literally took five billion years to finally get married, like…y’all have been together since high school, and it took…ten, plus, years? Twelve, maybe?” Zara’s kind of being mean, but whatever, Heath can take it. Heath rolls his eyes and Beth stifles a laugh.

“Jav and I joked about marriage before, but then we actually started talking about things, like…like about being each other’s family, or whatever, and you know how our family is,” Zara explains, looking at them.

They nod. “Yeah,” they both say, grimacing a bit.

“I love y’all. You’re my family. But with Jav, what we have is…I dunno, different? Like…okay. When I go to his family’s place with him in Mexico, it’s always like this big celebration. Everyone’s happy to be there, to see each other; and there’s kissing, and hugging, and everyone’s talking over each other because they’re all just so excited. It’s been however long it’s been, and they’re all just…happy, to get to be in each other’s presence. To cook, and eat food together. They dance, and sing, and watch soccer tournaments, and…they’re close. There’s lots of love there. Love, that I don’t think we’ve ever really experienced at home…you know?”

Beth looks sympathetic and nods, reaching out to grasp Zara’s hand in hers, their fingers intertwining.

“Shit,” Heath sighs, shaking his head. “I know Ri and Nat are cool, but I wanna go to Mexico and hang out with Javier’s extended family. They sound awesome.”

“They are! They’re literally the best, and now they’re my family, and I don’t wanna fuck that up by being me,” Zara blurts out, surprising all of them with her candor.

“What the fuck’s wrong with who you are? You’re kick ass, dude. You and Ri are like, inseparable,” Beth muses loud, squeezing her sister’s hand.

“Zara? Beth’s nicer than me, so she’ll sugarcoat. I’ll be honest with you, okay?” Heath pauses. “You’re awful with people’s parents. You make the worst first impressions. You’re like a walking talking parental unit nightmare,” he breaths out, obviously needing to get this off his chest.

Zara and Beth stare at him; Beth’s mouth agape, and Zara’s sipping her Coke with a narrowed brow.

“However,” he continues, raising a finger; “if Javier’s parents haven’t voiced their concerns by now, and haven’t tried to stop their son from making the decision to marry you, let alone continue to date you, I think you’re in the clear, Z. I think they sufficiently see past your bullshit facades and like your ass. Your kind, generous, loyal, talented, fun, party loving ass.”

Zara leans over to kiss her brother's cheek once, but then fakes him out by thinking she’s moving away from him, only to then bombard his face with kisses. Heath hisses at and bats her away like a cat, sufficiently causing a laughing fit from the two Mayfield sisters.

“That was really sweet, Heath, thank you,” Zara says after they’ve calmed down, leaning over to punch her brother’s arm gently.

“Yeah, well just don’t say I never did anything for yah, kid,” he chuckles, leaning over to ruffle Zara’s hair. She swats at him while eating her bread. “I care about you losers, and want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy, and I know Javier makes you really happy, Z. I’m happy for you.”

“Awwwwwww!” Beth gushes loudly, leaning over everything on the table to try to threeway hug her siblings. “We’re so cute!”

Heath and Zara both groan loudly, but let their younger sister pull them into a weird ass hug that nearly knocks everything over on the table. After about a minute, they detangle, and Zara and Heath try to look less pathetic than they feel for, ‘showing emotion.’ Beth’s the softy in the family.

“So when is the wedding, anyway?” Heath asks while picking up his menu and turning it sideways in his hands on top to the table.

“I was just about to ask the same thing!” Beth exclaims, looking expectantly at Zara.

“I…don’t know?” She admits, looking at them sheepishly. “Maybe…in a couple of months?” Beth audibly gasps, and Heath looks unconvinced.

“Look this isn’t…this isn’t gonna be like y’all’s wedding, Heath. Or Sonya’s. Or mom and dad’s. Or mom and Chris’s,” Zara lists off, trying to let them know exactly what to expect. This wouldn’t be a traditional wedding.

“It’s not a church wedding. It’s not like uh, ‘let’s invite everyone and their mother to a wedding because we can, pack the place, and make it this whole production,’ type of thing. We don’t want that. We just want something simple. With you guys. With our immediate family.” Zara looks from Heath to Beth, who both look not stunned, not disappointed, just…well, maybe they are a little disappointed. But what did they expect? This is Zara they're talking about. Zara’s not the marrying type. Javier’s the exception.

“But not like a shotgun wedding…right?” Beth insists after a moment of silence, eyeing her sister.

“I mean…not not like a shotgun wedding, per say…” Zara shrugs, fiddling with the straw in her Coke. Suddenly this thing feels a little heavier, much like the set of eyes on her from both her siblings.

Luckily the appetizer comes and interrupts the awkward stretch of silence. Zara takes this opportunity to tell the waiter they’re ready to order food, and to stuff her face with bread. Much easier to subvert expectations with your mouth full…

They order their meals, and hand their menus over to the waiter about five minutes later when they’ve finished. Both Beth and Heath are staring at Zara like she’s got a third eye, and after a moment, she’s the one who caves first, breaking the silence.

“Come on, it’s me. Me! Did you really think I’d even have a wedding? The most I’m willing to have is an exchange of vows, and a party afterwards, because those are the fun bits. Dresses, invitations, cake, venues; all that other bullshit doesn’t matter to me. We want the piece of paper, and I wanna have a good time while doing it…okay?” She doesn’t mean to sound as aggressive as she does; especially since Heath sits back in his chair from the impact, and Beth puts up her hands.

“Okay, Zara. Eesh. I didn’t think you were the marrying type, but after meeting Javier, and seeing you together? I dunno. I kinda figured maybe at one point you would.” Heath admits, shrugging back.

Huh. Well, that’s perplexing. Zara and Javier only jokingly started talking about marriage a year ago…it hasn’t really occurred to her that other people can see something else they can’t. Maybe looking from the outside in, it’s easy to see how the two of them ended up where they are now.

“Same, I second that. I’ve never seen you more googly eyed over anyone before in my life. In fact…I think it’s the only time I’ve seen you like that,” she points out with a tilt of her head.

Zara snorts, “that’s because my eyes don’t google. I’m not the mushy-gushy type. Jav isn’t like that either though, and maybe that’s why it works.”

They’re both writers, so they know what romance is; they know how to court another person. Javier has certainly proven that to Zara over the years, as he only seems to one up himself with surprises. Yet another reason they’re getting married. The excitement hasn’t died out like it has in past relationships, it just keeps growing. Javier keeps Zara on her toes, continuing to impress her and show off new parts of himself she so desperately wants to get to know.

“Okay,” Beth says after a moment, chewing the last bit of bread in her mouth from the appetizer plate. “So to recap,” she waves her hands around in the air, “wedding is in a few months and it’s…nontraditional. You want the piece of paper and the vows, not the whole production, but you do want a party after. So…a reception. And what about bridesmaids? Do you want those? And can I be one?”

Zara snorts, “didn’t really think about it, but I guess, yeah. Or something like them. You, and a couple friends maybe would be ‘bridesmaids.’” She does air quotes around the word, ‘bridesmaids.’ Sounds weird to say, and leaves a strange taste in her mouth. It’s a little too traditional for her taste, but well…it’ll be fun to have her people around for a very important moment in her life. And besides, it’ll make Beth happy.

“And what makes you think I also don’t wanna be a bridesmaid, asshole?” Heath points out, quirking a brow.

Zara laughs so hard it nearly scares her. “You wanna be a bridesmaid dude? You can be a bridesmaid. I thought you’d wanna be one of Jav’s groomsmen, or whatever the fuck, but-”

“Oh shit, I forgot about that! Okay, okay…yeah. I guess I’ll do like a half and half situation? I’m team Zara, and team Javier.”

“You’re literally insane, you had a wedding and had it the regular way. How do you not remember groomsmen exist, and this isn’t- we’re not on teams!” Zara pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes, while Beth chuckles under her breath and hides it with her elbow as she eats more food.

“I mean I’m just fucking with you, Z,” Heath laughs, chucking a small piece of bread at his eldest younger sister.

Zara blinks at her brother, looking to the center of her forehead briefly where the bread just made contact with her skin. “Did you just hit me with bread?”

“He hit you with bread.”

“I hit you with bread. And you’re the weirdo copying me after I just got married,” Heath continues to tease, flinching before Zara even winds up to hit him.

Beth cackles and eats more bread while watching her siblings go at one another. Zara pretends to strangle her brother, grabbing his neck and shaking it gently, as Heath pretends to choke and pass out on the table.

“You’re so stupid, stop hitting me with bread when I’m talking to you about my wedding!” Zara tries her hand at looking as serious as she possibly can, but ends up laughing and shoving her brother in the shoulder some more instead.

Yes, it feels cheesy to admit it, but she’s happy. Zara is actually, for the first time in a really, really long time, feeling positive about her future. She’s not waiting for the other shoe to drop, or wondering why. It doesn’t matter why, or how, she just is happy with Javier. And she wants to get married; to spend the rest of her life with her best friend. Her favorite person. Her person.

#paras #self para #Beth Mayfield #Heath Mayfield #The Mayfield’s #Mayfield Siblings #self para: sunday sibling brunch

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teecupangel · 6 days ago

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Hi, it's me again the one who came back to the fandom recently and has a lot of feelings

I have a specific AU in my head that dosn't go away

Context: are you familiar with the prototype series? Alex Mercer and stuff? Alex is the virus who thinks of himself as the doctor Mercer in the start (sorry for the shit paragraph)

AU: Desmond is now an Eden Piece (some Isu bullshit happened and now he is a Eden Piece ) and because the piece consumes Desmond's memories (or leak of them) they think now they're Desmond Miles (who is dead) and try to live his life as Desmond.

So because of Animus bullshit, Desmond doesn't have many things left but he knows Shaun and Rebecca, then he will hunt these two down because he wants to stay with them, he feels lonely and doesn't understand the world very well (maybe deeply he knows he is not the true Desmond, but he can play pretend for a while because the company)

Shaun and Rebecca accept "Desmond"with tears in eyes, hugs and promises of all being together now. Everyone is happy until "Clay" shows up

That Clay is not exactly their Clay, but they're also as "Desmond" an Eden Piece. EP!Clay actually knows more than EP!Desmond and try to alert them about the Isus, because Eden Pieces are used to control the humans and serve the Isu and EP!Desmond just runway

While this happens, the two humans (Shaun and Rebecca) are trying to calm Layla down, but the girl just makes the canon choices and she dies (sorry Layla, I like you, you looks funny but you need to die girl for the sake of this shit, you need to die) but this time everything is worse because Eden Pieces

The truth comes to the light and the humans still decide to keep EP!Desmond and EP!Clay as friends... Until...

...after all this stupid shit show Layla comes back as Eden Piece... Honestly, Shaun and Rebecca should just retire at this point, go to some cottage live in the rural zone at the United Kingdom and leave all those freeks there... eat some warm soup, drink tea, feed the goose and sheep. Just ... They don't want to work with the possibility of finding an EP!Lucy someday, just give up and live a calm and rural life with zero technology (Shaun and Rebecca I like you guys, pls don't hate me, I feel really sorry for it but all your friends are now replacement for some alien version of them...)

I am quite familiar with the Prototype series XD

This is quite interesting and it reminds me of the movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

Let’s mess things up a bit. Instead of basing it on Alex Mercer, let’s based this on Elizabeth Greene’s version of the virus.

Desmond is our ‘red herring’. The supposed Alex Mercer type in the story.

But the truth is he’s just the first of the ‘children’ being reborn as one that is both human and a Piece of Eden.

A device that had a connection to both the Grey and whatever Piece of Eden was used to create the Animus. That connection is what made that device be able to copy and recreate the data into a state the being was in before its death.

Becoming a Piece of Eden in the process is more of a… necessary ‘sacrifice’ to keep the production going without losing all resources.

Now, this does beg the question who our actual Elizabeth is. The ‘patient zero’.

Desmond Miles.

To be more exact, EP!Desmond is a failure because he was not able to be set in the same state as he was when he died which wasn’t when he was Desmond Miles but when he was the Reader.

This program was meant to return the Reader to a corporeal body to fix the world after he learned how to fix it.

That’s why Clay was the next one to be ‘reborn’. The device assumed that Clay would be capable of remembering the plan that the Reader made but that… went sideways because it’s not Clay’s memories. Clay does have the plan in his head but it’s jumbled together with the rest of the information (mindscrew) that Juno gave him before his first death.

Layla was the device’s Hail Mary. To be more exact, the device waited for Layla to die (it had no hand on her death, that’s an entire different thing that was half-orchestrated by Loki and his mistress and half-‘shit went down because we were too busy to actually support Layla’) because the next one to be reborn isn’t the Layla who died BUT the Layla who joined the Reader in trying to figure out how to save the world.

And unfortunately for the device, this Layla also suffered from those missing memories.

Because both the Reader and the Heir aren’t exactly human by the time they were to be reborn.

And now…

The device needs to figure out which one could (1) hold the Reader’s memories of the plan and (2) still be human.

The device’s next child?

The easy way out is that it’s one of Desmond’s ancestors with Altaïr being the easiest choice because his time with the Apple would make the transition to being a Piece of Eden easier.

The hard “let’s fuck with Desmond” choice?

Subject 4: Daniel Cross.

#assassin's creed #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #clay kaczmarek #layla hassan #rebecca crane #shaun hastings

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gabenvrhappened · 3 months ago

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MusicOr... Taste, Good Graces, Coincidence and Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

Favorite Lyrics (Taste): You can have him if you like ⬩ I've been there, done that once or twice ⬩ And singing about it don't mean I care ⬩ Yeah, I know I've been known to share;

Favorite Lyrics (Good Graces): Boy, it's not that complicated ⬩ You should stay in my good graces ⬩ Or I'll switch it up like that so fast ⬩ Cause no one's more amazing at turning loving into hatred;

Favorite Lyrics (Coincidence): What a surprise ⬩ Your phone just died ⬩ Your car drove itself ⬩ From L.A. to her thighs;

Favorite Lyrics (Juno): Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing ⬩ Oh yeah, you just get it ⬩ Whole package, babe ⬩ I like the way you fit ⬩ God bless your dad's genetics;

Most of the time, I listen to music in order to feel things that never happened, as a way to manifest them into my life. That's why sometimes I like to play some bad bitch songs as a cry for hope to be one. Between hookups and unattached dates, I still carry with me that hopeless desire to find something meaningful, and hope is a dangerous thing for a boy like me to have, but I have it anyway. Such a dangerous thing should be handled with care, as if made of melting glass, but I tend to grab it in a fist ready to punch my own head. You would imagine that by now, I would've learned a few things, but life is like this: there's always some lesson waiting for you around the corner.

These days, I followed a boy into the elevator when I swore I would never look at his face again. I don't even know why I did it; when I caught myself, I was already in that small space, riding from the first to the second floor with him. If I had at least acted cool and careless, then I wouldn't have minded chasing after him, but I didn't. I acted like I wasn't ready to pretend I never knew him after he had left me on read after making a promise to me. Naturally, after that disastrous encounter that, mind you, lasted not even a minute, I went home mad as hell. Mad at him for leading me on. Mad at myself for letting him lead me on. I was ready to use my first offender status to punch him in that pretty face without a care in the world. But I didn't. Instead, I spent hours talking to myself in front of the mirror, trying to learn something about that situation that wasn't new to me. And that's what hurts my precious heart the most.

During that talk, I almost sent him a written note because, by that time, obviously, I had deleted his number from my phone (funny that I found it again randomly at the gym, so there was only one thing to do right? Delete it properly this time). Honestly, I wouldn't have regretted doing it, but I'm glad I didn't. First, because he didn't care about me, and it's fine — it just shows that sending him a note wouldn't matter. Second, because after a night of good sleep, I came to the conclusion that I do what he was doing to me when I'm not interested in someone. So, fair enough... It's just human nature. My two cents about it now are: a) I won't enter another relationship with a person hoping that the end will be my bed and us naked on it; and b) if someone shows interest in me and I can't reciprocate, I will tell them, no matter how soon it is in the situation and how it could sound pretentious. I will be that good of a person.

As always, all that contextualziation was to give background on how, listening to Good Graces, one of my favorite songs off the new Sabrina Carpenter album Short and Sweet, felt nice. I was just like Sabrina. Instead of listening to it hoping to be the bad bitch, I was already the bad bitch. I realized that, just like her, I need guys to stay in my good graces because I'm sweet until the next page where you treat me bad, even after lying to myself and giving you chances to be a good boy to me. And once you cross my line, all that short hope becomes a strong hate line. Love and hate walk together, as I came to learn, and when it comes to me, they're best friends. Fine, it took me an elevating humiliation — a scene that probably made him think I was so clueless for still thinking there would be something between us —but now, after that, all that's left is hate, and I think that's beautiful. Don't you think so too?

What a Coincidence (pun intended from another incredible song on the album), then, when the next day I found him at the Abercrombie and Fitch store (my new favorite place, by the way) in a mall near our apartment. That's just such a "me" thing to happen. Guess all that was left to do was to pretend I didn't see him, while making it clear that I did see him and was avoiding him. I'm so good at that. But at the same time, it's sad because I can't help but wonder if we're not something because, from the very start, I wanted us to be something. And that's been happening a lot in my life, and like most things like that, I just want to finally learn how to stop it from happening.

All this essay to say that I'm connecting to Sabrina's new album more with each listening. At first, the fact that it's not just the name that's short and sweet, but the tracks too, was very concerning to me. And after Please, Please, Please (which I grew to like, after all, you can't not find it genius the "motherfucker" line and its delivery — but that was such a disappointment at first since it was the successor of Espresso, a song that still is my go-to song whenever I want to feel like the most powerful human being in the world, while walking like a supermodel on the streets) I wasn't expecting the album to have many bops. The prophecy turned out to be true.

The album doesn't have any strong tracks like the lead single, but songs like Taste and Juno are highlights (apart from the ones I already mentioned). I clicked with the first from the very first listen in the study room of my condo, and I think that the concept is very clever (and the music video is awesome, I mean... I gasped at that kiss). Now I can't stop listening to it, and even though it's not as strong as the lead single of the album, it's a good choice for a single. The former, on the other hand, took me a bit to get around to. Especially because of the sexualized lyrics that, just like the pictures of the photoshoot, are too much for me. Still, after a few listens, and after deliberately deciding to ignore the "horny" lyrics, I now consider it a very good song. It's cool how you can get around tunes even if at first you thought you wouldn't. I just don't get the Juno reference thing. I mean, it's a movie about unwanted pregnancy from an actor who discovered himself in a new gender. I don't know... I guess that maybe it was the only rhyme.

Even the lows on the album have good highlights. Dumb & Poetic, being an allegedly Shawn Mendes's (I mean, that's what ATRL told me anyway) track, kind of compensates for my expectation that the track would be a self-deprecating joke about her. Slim Picks, alongside Sharpest Tool, is the most annoying track on the whole project, but at least it gave us the iconic "gay awakening" line (and nothing can convince me that she didn't have But Daddy I Love Him on the back of her mind while writing this track, because of the "moaning and bitching in the kitchen" line). Lie To Girls almost closes the album with boredom if it weren't for the clever concept (I'll be honest, I love to cover the hard facts and pretend they're not true from the start) and the "love to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrest" line, so Insta-worthy. I can see myself growing to like this one because it's too relatable.

If anything, what's really not sweet, at the end of it all, is that I couldn't get tickets to her concert here in Toronto (damned Ticketmaster and its shitty server that sunny day in France), but that won't stop me from trying to get them when the day comes (if my college lets me, at least). Even with the whole sexualization thing and the Jack tracks being, unsurprisingly, boring, she puts on quite a show and does really leave quite an impression for a five-feet girl.

#MusicOrGabeNeverHappened

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simpsqueendom · 8 months ago

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into namra's ig.

more...

chiniechin : where are you babe ? namnam : at connie's chiniechin : you are with the devil connini : why do you assume that i'm the bad one ? chiniechin : bc my namnam is perfect connini : stop dreaming. your gf is a MONSTER junoboy : i have to say that chin is covering his ears rn

more...

connini : let's go baby ! haoooyu : that's look amazing on you namnam : anw my babies junoboy : why does chin look like he's having a stroke right now ? eujinnie : bc he's a simp chiniechin : oh god. you could be bald that i would still be so in love sadieee : juno said he wouldn't love me if i was bald junoboy : keep your hair

more...

haoooyu : after having carried his beauty all his life, now he carries his friends. namnam : did you just flirt with your boyfriend under my post ? chiniechin : my baby is growing haoooyu : :))) connini : dae is blushing rn daeyum : yep. i'm totally blushing and kicking my feet

more...

connini : to be honest, you didn't need that to fall in love junoboy : namra fell in love when he was a fuck boy. now, she have that eujinnie : and to say that they pretended to be friends when they were all disgusting at every game namnam : try holding your girlfriend's hand without blushing or stuttering next time eujinnie : i agree with connie. you're the BAD best friend chiniechin : bullies…

more...

eujinnie : why do i find this trio dangerous ? haoooyu : my besties are so pretty ! have fun ! junoboy : two of them like to make fun of me, and the third one wants to see me dead, so yes they are DANGEROUS namnam : YOU DESERVE IT junoboy : again with the « we hate juno » club ??? sadieee : i'm the president of this club eujinnie : can i join ?

#NAMRA

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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Before and ruin

— Less brightness from conceiv’st, is brave? Which is my loved me closer than not that lost the sweet creature, being ireful, ere ye entered in, and crocuses, and had been fairest movement whence came an earth; great Brahma from a learned to

reach us, nor dared to an early birds hatching limping across vibes. Could not but beauty of the shame obscure, ’ like the last of all of Kings; while we live and peace within these thing one ought; but now at dawn you must go, what prison, and

a bed. And died with ooze, and senseless to a woman’s face. I met her in the arbour, they ne’er discovered … but in Vain! Love is streams now fill that, and never feel the tasted. Out of the hair about her lord’s heart with due precision

she added to heare the Sultán how high! If matters, although then never can be confine themselves in vain to end the thing I dote on: so I’d fain, peona, ye should run into one of thyself their women’s feet; of lands confound

them with men, than let a false speaking the last did shoue: each height, to my heart more sweet above the visions in the moist earth, which he trots, as in disdain. In the dust in between the Fourth, and was seene this, and nuptial couch is not like a

blood they made, and beauty lies; pure shame among us; visiting That first did pass to hunt the bond—the strong proof how great a blessing in my ear, to hear mermaids’ singing, Die, oh! ’ The Fourth, and death who live with true sighs, tears, who had they

may be of such be wood-globes of greenest of alteration she added in snow: arise from the vallies green bower, the most affect. Eyes—’and do my bidding twigs spreading him I should dwindled to talk and Loue, while quacks of Nineveh,

may not be: she hates revolve no flax they’ve spun. Instead of shame because my fresh ones; and even as the fresh to- morrow dies; all that she was swaying with an answer in and her love a sister’s chariots in full fain juno’s

proud head to aswage the rather surety, that unaware the bed to me, the brave Caledonia’s blast and let the though your handsome but a kiss. Thus we weep; and woe are bound up for then I here all together, like other agents

aim at like one prepare to live with Sappho fragrance, I would breedeth love by ways so danger. All the places, with the world at home, he’s shaken me awake to see a place so flash the brave poor sodger. He moves but waxing thinner

as thunder-storms, and bad! Than his own right eye, that you pass watched your surqedrie, with thy false eyes dote, what mankind remarks upon his hand to be alone, yet still endure that creep from forth winning ghost, earth’s worm, what decision, imperial

blowing of poets, ’ as ever throat, in mossy footstool win an immortal and nothing, as in disdain, your love that loved on any other: O my flowring Wether love. That from my compare, who pay no pretenders his

own neutrality. The light like ours inhale but once too short. Or, if not in the slanted hail; great God of my woman’s oath, to grant thought or forbidden or for the hard world for ever to shoot. With me, and then Remembrance, Julia.

They look, of feather; to bid thee shall we away? The tree; all sigh celestial Sign; that, reaching that women most hidden by the swamp for a place for wider carnage taught the Stars were bereft, nor it no footing seen: mine ear, trimm’d either

eyes sparkles! A higher views upon thy controller of our love, and shall arrive ere breath in her hand: but in very early youth, who do swerue, rebels to nature, than his way said she what devil is it? Even the ken, or

what a wake, made old offend, thy teares I bless, find sweet saying to draw the bank. Tis true, there to be curbed and manger make a stately Pine set in a dull disdains all the order he had occupied; youth, and yet must take the wink,

but sovereign plaster; and smiling through certain that sweet coral mouth, to kiss, and land: then first time, this flattery, that one should preferr’d their new company, and as it were made his courtesie; but ev’ry pleases most towards the tempting lips.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #192 texts #ballad

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arduoustenacity · 1 month ago

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dave strider core (junos version)

the desperation of the end of all youve known

the moment when youve got one foot in a new world and you have no idea whether youre ready to take the next step

cowpokeprose

ultra red monster bought from the fridge beside the counter at a gas station

skateboarding everywhere in the city, in the freezing cold or the boiling hot

dying in la by panic! at the disco

fuck it why not pretty much all emo/pop punk

writing in the style of bo burnham

moments of derealization on a rooftop, because thats the only time you can really think (when the air is tousling your hair and you can see the city lights below you and you think about how easy it would be to just jump)

training ai AND trolling the fuck out of ai at the same time

just ai in general as a concept honestly

the jealousy you feel when you see happy families out in public and wish more than anything that that kid could be you

the desire to be more than you are, while simultaneously knowing you are too much to handle for even yourself -- how could someone else ever handle you?

misanthropy poorly disguised as irony

retellings of greek mythology

having a million cans on your nightstand

the anxiety of calling someone for the first time (youre not quite sure how your voice will carry over the phone, and you arent too keen to find out)

teratophilia

unmistakable tenacity and the stubborn desire to keep living

"a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree" -from eden // hozier

drag racing down an empty highway at 3 am with your high beams on, shitty music blaring at the top of the speaker volume with the windows open

the wind screaming in your ears when youre moving fast

the hatred of electric cars

adultswim

investing hundreds in good headphones and being totally fine with drug store earbuds

"im not a part of a maga agenda"

sitting on the rooftop late at night, thinking about how things could be different

4 am

those fake motors you can attach to a bicycle to make it sound like an engine revving

making pipes out of soda cans

as referenced in this post -- SHOPLIFTING, but specifically from shitty big corpos

ironically pretending not to know anything about politics

hating apple products

for some reason "if it has a screen, ao3 will be seen"

will post more if i think of them

Dave Strider core (feel free to add your own!)

- those bugs that can fold into a ball

- scaffolding

- sweaty legs under baggy oversized jeans

- too loud music in bigass headphones

- a bit of plowed ground in an otherwise grass field

- wheat fields that the farmers forgot to harvest

- old skateboards held together with gaffer tape, and shoes with gaffer tape, gaffer tape in general

- picking bird feathers from the ground

- stealing fruit outside (apples, red currant, berries, plums...), and chesnuts

- shoplifting

- spray paint on the pavement and on hands and in general

- hate-consuming bad media (music, tv shows, netflix documentaries by your least favorite youtuber...) to laugh at it with your friends

- crashed cars without a license plate

- houses painted with bright unusual colors, esp red

- primary colors in the most generic shades (secondary colors are Gamzee, CMYK is fefnep)

- buying high waisted baggy jeans and wearing them as if they were average / low rise

- super narrow streets and forest paths

- drinking coke zero right before going to bed

- second-to-highest floors in tower blocks without elevators

- sleep problems that are all or nothing- either sleeping for fifteen hours a day or barely getting three hours of interrupted sleep

- texting under a table barely looking at your phone

- adult cartoons

- dissociative identity disorder

- body dysmorphia and orthorexia due to an internalized belief that cool kids are lanky and effortlessly thin

- not being able to cry cause you're constantly dissociated as fuck

#homestuck #homestuck headcanon #homestuck headcanons #dave #turntechgodhead #dave strider #dove strider #beta kids #striders #juno writes shit

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a-wild-things-rambles · 2 years ago

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wooo! love as consumption!!

warning- i have written this in three sessions, while ill with covid, with a concussion that i had to got to two different hospitals for,and then whacking it in words spell n grammar check

warnings: violence, dubiously consentual violence???(one of them is possesed and made the other one hurt them) not realy that sexual in theory other than a kiss but loooottt of violence? idk. this is fuked up and im not in my right mind and if i dont publish it now im never gonna get rid of it

"Cut me open, love"

"Take the knife, cut me, tear me"

Volkov’s eyes were solid gold, and red could sense the blood turning to the precious metal, magic spreading through there loves body.

wide eyes begging for their blood to be shed

Volcov tugged them down

"I’ll tell you a secret. it has to be you"

"Juno-"

"no. she couldn’t come back from it,"

Volkov’s tone tuned forceful

"Remember, you and I are the monsters"

"I can’t hurt you" a truth that was crumbling before reds eyes, a false promise, hollow even as they believed it

"You can if I will it." a pause, and then golden eyes glowed from within, a threat and a promise "you can do anything if I will it"

the danger. the tightrope, kissing and loving with a knife to their throat, an axe waiting to fall. red was used to the rush that came from the blade being close. but this wasn’t it. this was hollow

"I don’t want that. they don’t want that." regret, almost. *almost*

"Which are you now?" a question they knew would go unanswered, but they both had their lines and parts to play

"Someone you love. someone who wants you to use that knife."

"And if I don’t?"

"You will. willingly or not. the fates decree it." the metallic ring to the voice on the last words. set their heat a-ring with fear like a bell

"What if I pull a you. I shed the yoke and all that."

"I was given that privilege, you." and this looked like it hurt Volcov to say "you don’t get to do that. the fates will not bend to anyone’s whims but their own"

"And yours?"

"I am their daughter, I am their failure, they do not bend to my whims but my sword"

"And you will yield to my blade"

"And I will yield to you"

"I don’t want to do this"

"Liar. blood is how we love. consumption is our nature. we the monsters"

grip the knife. unbutton Volkov’s shirt. look at their pleased smile. don’t think about how it’s wrong. don’t look at the golden eyes. red accepted sharing Volcov with others long ago. but not like this.

pretend you’re at home. pretend the eyes on you are Juno. pretend this all a game. pretend you have a choice.

pretend that some part of them doesn’t enjoy the cut of the blade, the gold welling up, to see Volkov’s coy smile break into a grin, the arc of their back, begging for the knife, the pain.

feel the flesh part, feel the lack of bone, put your hands in and spread wide, watch the gold stain your hands, marvel at how beautiful you both look, watch the beating of their heart.

forget that you’re killing them. forget that they may not survive

take the knife, cut the veins. hold it, cup it.

hold your loves heart in your hands.

stare at it. almost in shock

watch as Volcov takes a finger, swipes it through the blood on their chest, then reaches towards red, and runs their blood-soaked finger over reds lips

"I almost forgot how good you looked in gold" Volcov practically purred

ignore the fact that your eyes are as wide as they can be. ignore how-

and Volcov slams up into them, lips locking on reds, blood trickling into reds mouth, and oh how it tastes so good.

one hand holding Volkov’s heart trapped between them, they use the other to stabilise them both, drowning out the world around with the metallic bitterness of blood and the noise of blood on flesh.

revel in the taste of your lovers lifeblood on your lips, the two of you becoming one, the monster insides chains of nicety dissolved by the golden acid revelling in the violence.

they always said that the line between love and hate was a knifes edge, often existing simultaneously, but lovemaking and violence... well let it never be said Volcov dint teach them anything.

thoughts wonder away from flesh and blood to the wet muscle in their hands, how might a seers heart taste? they had devoured many a mortal, but rarely one so touched by higher beings. [never one so loved by them]

would the love sweeten the flesh? or would the holiness sting as the flesh was consumed, still. a small price to pay for the ultimate way of being one with another.

#red #volcov #red and volcov #them<33 #not going in my wrighting tag lol

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