#anyway yall who like reading up on process will enjoy this
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The World in Deeper Inspection UPDATE Read: (Chapter 1: Pages 1 to 4)
About the comic
TWIDI IS BACK! To celebrate its 10th anniversary since launch, I'm remaking the first chapter and posting pages every Friday, accompanied by my thoughts on the original pages and a breakdown of what I've changed or improved.
Analysis under the cut.
PAGE 1 and 2
It’s March 31st, 2023… exactly 10 years since I posted the very first page of TWIDI!! I haven’t done much to celebrate TWIDI’s anniversaries the past few years (due to general Busyness – yes, yes, check out the forever “TWIDI isn’t dead” sign up on the front page), but the official 10th anniversary is a special unignorable event.
Initially I wanted to make a simple remaster of Chapter 1 – better copyediting, fixing egregious lettering and art errors, alongside a retrospective author’s note… then long-time reader Caracan suggested, why not do a full remake? That’d be fun to see. And I agree – it would be fun to see! I’ve grown my craft and sensibility as comics artist since TWIDI’s debut, and I was so curious to see how 28 Year Old Me would interpret the material that 18 Year Old me produced.
So yep!
This first page used to be so cool-looking to my 18 Year Old eyes… I can definitely see what I was trying to go for, but wasn’t quite able to reach then.
A thumbnail from 2013, with notes to myself regarding the composition. In my mind I wanted the wolves to have a James Jeanesque rendering – I was really into his Fables covers back then (still am tbh).
For the remake, I leaned further into the graphic-designiness of the composition: every element had to sweep the reader’s gaze down onto our protagonist. The wolves are expanded to actually take up half the spread and simplified down to only white lines. The trees and sky are shaped like teeth pointing down to Grimsley. The intent was to evoke a sense of claustrophobia, of the wolves catching up to Grims and driving him into a corner.
Small improvements: the energy and line of action are clearer with the new running pose. Definitely a better silhouette. And a lot more angularity with the limbs which adds to the sense of movement.
PAGE 3 and 4
This spread is one of the most drastic rehauls in the remake. Here’s the original for comparison
It’s not very good! (Sorry @ 18 Year Old Me) I remember struggling real hard with the dynamicism required out of this sequence…
Fortunately after 1000s of double-page compositions and 10 years of practice, I’ve finally cracked this once-difficult composition.
This new page does away with the concept of grids or caring about whether anything is read linearly. The sequence is supposed to evoke chaos and panic as everything is happening everywhere all at once, so it doesn’t really matter if everything can be read or arranged in a neat grid. That was the problem with the original spread: it was too beholden to the grid.
(You can see how in the original, each page was (top row: left to right; bottom row: left to right))
The new page is like this:
The page is horizontally railroaded. The main action sweeps from top left to bottom right.
The AWOOO sfx is the anchor which leads the eye from left to right. As the eye travels it may glance up or down at the panels – there’s no real need to pay attention to them; hopefully the improved clarity of Grimsley’s emotional and body acting + me actually depicting the wolf biting his neck + the spiky graphic design elements instantly conveys that he’s in trouble without much or any processing.
The newest panel – the pink grass and canine paws – is a call back for later when we catch up to this in media res.
#the world in deeper inspection#comics#webcomic#GOSH HAS IT BEEN THAT LONG#anyway yall who like reading up on process will enjoy this
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aakhon Mein Teri ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Summary: Lando Norris and his very desi girlfriend <3
: ̗̀➛ ln4 x desi!reader ₊˚⊹♡
: ̗̀➛ fluff + humour ₊˚⊹♡
masterlist ☾☼
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
yourusername
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 321,970 others
yourusername: manifesting that our story doesn't end like om shanti om
view all 85,261 comments
landonorris this movie was traumatising
yourusername no it wasn't!
user1 it really is
landonorris next time im picking a movie for movie night
yourusername no 😚
user2 dunno who i love more srk or lando
yourusername the only reason im with lando is cause srk is too old for me
landonorris wtf babe????
maxfewtrell you need to stop showing him movies that'll keep him up at night
carlossainz he's a child
danielricciardo too young to watch horror movies
landonorris THANK YOU
user3 i love how they came for lando's rescue 😂😂😂
yourusername
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 715,026 others
yourusername gora pakora with his little spicy pakora
view all 291,008 comments
landonorris youre so beautiful
yourusername no you
landonorris i am
yourusername 😒
landonorris wtf is a gora pakora
user1 NO ONE TELL HIM
user2 youre a gora pakora lando
oscarpiastri yall are cute
yourusername lily and i are cuter tho
alexalbon youve already stolen my lily, why do you need another one
yourusername alexalbon im collecting all your girlfriends and then we're gonna ditch yall and live happily ever after
charlesleclerc alexandrasaintmleux stay away
alexandrasaintmleux no 😚
user3 PARENTS
user4 LANDO IN A KURTA LANDO IN A KURTA THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL
user5 im dead he looks so beautiful
yourusername
liked by mclaren, landonorris and 853,017 others
yourusername poor guy's gonna lose all his money now that he's marrying me
view all 604,321 comments
landonorris can't wait to marry you
mclaren congratulations to the happy couple!
user6 shes such a gold digger
user1 no you dumbass. indian weddings have like, 13 different ceremonies to it
user2 my parents are getting married
user4 can't believe he's willingly giving away all of his money to her
carlossainz congratulation kids
danielricciardo they grow up so fast
maxverstappen1 i just read somewhere that there are 13 ceremonies???
yourusername yes there's going to be a meeting about it. i expect you to be there
maxverstappen1 im scared
yourusername you should be
oscarpiastri cant believe youre getting married!
user5 i love how y/n's gonna have a meeting to explain the wedding process to all of them
user1 indian weddings are no joke 😭😭😭
yourusername
liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 981,003 others
yourusername my radha was on the dance floor 🕺❤️
view all 704,692 comments
landonorris im so happy i married you i love you sm
yourusername i love you sm too
user1 WE NEED MORE DETAILS
carlossainz how did your wedding end up being more tiring than a triple header???
yourusername its the beauty of indian weddings
oscarpiastri i honestly feel like im still drunk
landonorris as you should be
mclaren NO AS YOU SHOULDNT BE
georgerussell beautiful beautiful wedding guys
yourusername carmen looked so pretty i wouldve married her instead
carmenmmundt YES
georgerussell NO
landonorris NO
danielricciardo all those dance practices paid off
yourusername you bet im gonna use the sangeet videos on your birthdays
charlesleclerc please dont we beg you
yourusername MWAHAHA
alexalbon landonorris your wife is being mean to us
yourusername he won't say anything he loves me
landonorris i do
maxfewtrell whipped
user2 I NEED TO SEE THIS VIDEO
user4 im so happy for them im gonna cry
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
this is my first smau! i'm still learning to do these, so I'm sorry if this was bad! the dupatta getting caught on lando's watch idea was a request by @justadesirebel and I'm so sorry it took me so much time to make this! but, anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this! also, the title "aakhon mein teri" translated means "in your eyes" and I chose that because the scene in the movie when the actress' dupatta gets caught in the actor's watch, that's the song playing in the background! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!
#f1#formula 1#ln4#lando norris#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x desi!reader#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln#ln4 x desi!reader#lando norris smau#lando norris social media au#ln4 x reader
638 notes
·
View notes
Text
Professor Pines pt. 2
Author’s note: YALL RAHHHH I MADE THE HIGHEST GRADE IN THE CLASS ON ONE OF MY ZOOLOGY FINALS LETS GOOOOOO anyways things are slowing down for me other than i am moving into my own place!! Im so excited <3 I hope yall enjoy this!! (I just want to apologize for me nerding out over birds in this chapter)
Summary: This is just a random day in the first week that Ford and the reader are spending in east Tennessee. They are going bird watching ayyyy
May 21st
You leaned over your field notebook, trying to recreate the beautiful foliage you had seen on a hike with Ford the day before. Before trying to find any mysterious creatures that lurked in the Appalachian, Ford had suggested that you both get acquainted with the area you would be studying in. This way you would be able to fully understand the habitat this cryptid called home and any adaptations it developed to flourish there. You didn’t mind it whatsoever. Wildlife had always been something you were interested in, and Ford made it so damn fun. It was a shame you never had him before as a professor. He would be one hell of a lecturer. Despite having the reputation of being an introvert, he came to life when he got to speak about his passion: science.
You certainly weren’t as gifted in the art department as Ford was, but you were determined to finish this drawing of a flower if it was the last thing you did. You bit the end of your indigo coloring pencil as you examined your illustration.
“Needs more purple,” you mumbled, grabbing your violet pencil and drawing streaks over the petals. You hummed contentedly. “There we go.”
“Very nice, Y/N,” Ford complimented. You didn’t know he was bent down looking over your shoulder, observing your artistic process.
“Jesus!” you yelped, knee hitting the underside of your desk. Your colored pencils began to roll onto the floor beside you. “You scared me,” you said through laughing.
“I seem to be good at doing that,” Ford replied jokingly. He kneeled beside you, his face now eye level with your lap. Out of your view, his eyes flickered at your plush thighs as he stood back up. He placed your pencils beside your notebook and placed a hand on the back of your swivel chair.
He pointed to your drawing. “Is that the Bachelor’s Button we saw yesterday?”
You smiled. “Yes, it is! How did I do?” You turned to him as he read the notes and labels that were littered around the page.
“Looks just like it,” he answered, grinning at you.
“Why, thank you, Ford.” You closed your notebook and turned towards him, still seated. He was now leaning against the oak drawers of the desk, his hands flat on the surface behind him. “What do you have planned today?”
“I’m glad you asked!” He removed his journal tucked into a pocket inside his jacket and flipped through the pages. He landed on a page that had nothing on it besides the word “Birds” written in his loopy scrawl. “I thought we’d go bird watching today! I’m a little rusty on class Aves, so I thought we’d go together and see what we find.”
Yes! I would love to! Let me just-” You leaned over to the bottom drawer where Ford was standing. The drawer was shielded by his broad legs.
“Oh, excuse me!” Ford apologized. He stepped out of the way. You pulled out a pair of binoculars and a guide for bird identifying.
“Alright, I’m ready.” You stood up quickly from your chair. “Lead the way, Pines,” you said faux authoritatively.
He laughed. “Yes ma’am.”
You found yourself walking down a trail where the grass had been patted down by others who had walked on it before. Trees grew on either side of you and bushes were scattered throughout the forest. It was quite peaceful. You and Ford had settled on a comfortable silence as you looked to the branches for birds. You were both trying to walk softly to avoid any twigs or leaves crunching. This came surprisingly easy to Ford despite being the tall, broad man that he is. You eventually stopped at a spot behind a shrub that had been covered in vines to gaze across an open area.
“This should be good enough,” Ford said, placing his bag on the ground. He brought his binoculars to his eyes just as you did. “Keep an eye out for anything…unusual. You never know what you’ll find.”
You chuckled. “Got that right.” You then turned to your left to search for any bright patches of colors that could be songbirds. After about a minute of not seeing anything, Ford brought your attention his way.
“Look! Do you know what that is, Y/N?” he asked quietly, pointing upwards. You quickly pivoted on your feet and moved closer to him, scanning the trees with your binoculars.
“I don’t quite see it,” you murmured, still looking for the bird in the wrong direction.
“Here.” Ford then shifted behind you gently touching your elbows and lifting your arms into the line of sight of the bird. Your breath hitched in your throat at the contact. His fingertips were rough compared to the soft flesh of your arms. He leaned next to your ear and pointed once again, facing the sky.
“Do you see it?” he whispered. You felt your face grow warm at the current proximity. His voice was so low and gravelly in your ear. You suddenly saw the bird he had been talking about. It was black, white, and had a bright red splotch across its chest.
“Oh, I see it!” you exclaimed. “That’s a, uh,” you snapped your fingers, “a Rose-Breasted Grosbeak.”
Ford smiled warmly at you. “That it is.”
You spent an extra hour and a half taking in the scenery around you, continuing to find even more birds. It was a truly beautiful day for it. The sun was even shining just right on Ford to accentuate the silver in his hair. That’s when you remembered something.
You then pulled a disposable camera out of your back pocket. “Ford, look at me,” you instructed, positioning the camera in front of your eye.
“What are you doing?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you.
“Taking a picture of you. Don’t think you can escape entering my scrapbook. Now smile.” He laughed in response to that, giving you a perfectly authentic grin.
“That reminds me of my great niece. She loves scrapbooking. You’ll have to meet her one day.” He began to pick up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “You would get along swimmingly.”
You giggled. “I would love that,” you responded, also picking up your own bag and putting your binoculars in it.
You began to walk back down the trail together, recapping all of what you saw today when you spotted a raspberry bush. “Hell yes,” you said, striding over to the bush. “You want a snack, Ford?” You started to pick the berries off the plant.
“I’m alright, but thank you,” he responded, waiting for you to get done harvesting. You walked back over to him and began to bite a berry in half. Unfortunately, this was an especially juicy one. It busted and left a red streak dribbling down your chin.
“Dammit,” you grumbled, about to wipe your mouth with your sleeve.
Ford frowned at you. “No, don’t ruin your shirt like that. Here let me.” His hand gently cradled the back of your head as he took the bottom of his shirt and brought it to your chin. Your eyes widened at the action and the fact you could now see Ford’s midsection. He had a muscular belly with just a little bit of pudge and a graying happy trail. Oh my God.
His cotton covered thumb swiped below your lip, removing the juice that was there. He wasn’t looking in your eyes but instead focusing on the task at hand. His hand left the back of your head as he dropped his shirt.
“There we go,” he grinned, eyes crinkling at you. “Now, I’m the dirty one.” You knew your face had to be as red as the berry you just ate, but he didn’t mention it. It was such an innocent act of kindness, but the way you were feeling was far from innocent.
#gravity falls#ford pines#stanford pines#grunkle ford#grunkle stan#stanley pines#ford pines x reader#pines family#imagine#fluff#eventual smut#slow burn#college au#stan pines x you#stan pines x reader#stan pines#ford pines x you#ford pines smut#professor au#teacher x student#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls stanford#gravity falls fanfiction
142 notes
·
View notes
Text
Platonic Yan Rottmnt
「 ✦ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐘𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐌𝐍𝐓 𝐱 𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 ✦ 」
Part 2 is finally here and there will be a part 3 to finish off this mini series! \(^▽^)/ I'm sorry this took so long to post. A family member recently passed away and I was processing that while having to go to school and being swamped with schoolwork. Finals are also coming like next week but after that I get a two week break so I'll definitely be writing some more when that comes. Anyways I hope yall enjoy! Words : 2,411
THIS IS IN NO WAY APPROVING OF A ABUSIVE OR TOXIC RELATIONSHIP Warnings : Delusion, Kidnaping.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Being stuck for many months in what you learned was the Hamato brother’s lair was tiring. No, scratch that, it was exhausting. All of them were clingy, needy and especially overprotective. They also began addressing you like you were family, and started trying to spend time with you like you had lived with them your whole life.
Mikey was always trying to cling to you, whether it be holding your hand, carrying you throughout the lair, or just unexpectedly jumping on you and piggyback riding off of your back, clinging to you for dear life like a koala. He basically begged for your affection, trying so hard to take up all of your time with art, cooking, baking and anything else he could think of that would keep you occupied with him. He also called you his twin. Which, sure you were basically the same age as him, and you both were mutant turtles, but you had no connection to any of them whatsoever. You had learned how the Hamato’s had become mutants in the first place, but you all had never met before you or they were mutated, and you two didn’t even share the same birthday. Yet he seemed persistent to call you two twins.
Leo was obviously the jokester out of the four. He makes multiple one-liners around you, trying to make you laugh. He also made many jokes about New Jersey of all places, which you didn’t get. He wasn’t as touchy as Mikey, but he liked to occasionally put an arm around your shoulder or rest his elbow on your head. He seemed more possessive of you, making plans with you to read Jupiter Jim comics and get defensive when his brothers tried to take you away to do something else with them. He also liked to mix in some Spanish into his speech at times. He mostly calls you hermana/hermano.
Donnie was very protective of you. He made sure you balanced out your nutrients and ate food that would make sure your blood sugar levels were at normal rates. He knew what foods you could and couldn’t eat. He made sure you were hydrated and healthy. He knew most about your species. He had spent time studying your behaviors for the first few days you were brought to the lair. He also forbade you to do things that he thought you could harm yourself doing. Even simple things, like reaching items from up high, because, according to Donnie, the item you were reaching for could fall on your head so hard it could knock you out or cause you a concussion. Yeah, you didn’t get that rule. You had to ask either Donnie or his other brothers to help you. He also placed multiple cameras and alarms throughout your new room at your arrival, making sure he can monitor you at all times.
Raph was somewhat of a more tolerable one. While he was a bit more overprotective of you than Donnie, he was the one that gave you the most space and privacy. He was already worried he could possibly hurt you because of his strength, which made him back off a bit. He also was the only one who insisted on your personal space when Leo or Mikey were being too overbearing with their affection and touchiness. He made sure you at least ate breakfast, lunch and dinner, and sometimes would walk up to you, give you a small snack, gently pat your head like one would do to a cat, and anxiously leave without a word. You knew he could be a little shy around you, most likely due to an insecurity that you might not like him or think he’s not doing enough for you. He also occasionally likes to carry you in his arms.
Hell, even their dad, Splinter, grew attached to you. He calls you Yellow due to the spots on your body and shell, and practically treats you like one of his own. Except he makes more of an effort to talk and spend quality time with you. You found out he used to be a movie star named Lou Jitstu before he was mutated by some sheep guy named Baron Draxum.
Overall, you despised it here. You just want freedom. To see the sky again. To try and adjust to the circumstances of becoming a mutant by yourself and live a peaceful life where you're not constantly babied by everyone around you. That’s why you tried your first, and hopefully last, escape attempt.
—
You mentally went over the plan again and again in your mind, looking for possible flaws. A sense of doubt gnawed at the back of your mind. What if the plan didn’t work? What would happen to you then? You huffed at your own anxious thoughts, turning to face the curtain that was the door to your room. It led into the main room of the maze that was the Hamato’s lair. Thankfully, there was an extra room in the lair that the brothers had converted into a bedroom for you, despite Mikey’s protests and insisting you slept in his room in a separate hammock.
You took shaky deep breaths in and out a couple times to calm down. You could do this. The timing had to be just right. Speaking of time, you glanced at the digital alarm clock that rested on your bedside table. 5:21 AM. Okay, just a few more minutes and your plan would be set in motion.
You decided a time closer to the morning would work better, considering the brothers seemed to be active most in the night. A time closer to morning was usually when they slept. It would be the perfect time to sneakily leave your room. You decided trying to sneak straight to the manhole wasn’t an option. You knew Donnie would have some kind of security near there. Not only to keep you in, but to also keep unwanted strangers out. Luckily the lair had multiple entry and exit points that mostly led into the tunnels of the sewers. From there, you would have to try and find your way out from there. It wasn’t the most thought out plan since you had only gotten to explore the tunnels when Raph went Savage. If everything goes wrong and you end up with the brothers on your tail, your next bet is to swim your way away. Or at least try to. You assumed you could at least swim pretty well since you were a turtle now. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to resort to that though. Those waters looked disgusting and dirty and gross. Glancing at the alarm clock again you realized it was about time for you to activate your plan. A few minutes had passed since the last time you had looked at the time. Propping yourself on your elbows in the bed you took another deep breath. The time was now. You could do this. You slowly lifted your body into a sitting position, letting your legs dangle off of the edge of the bed for a few moments before pushing yourself to stand. Your crept towards the curtain, holding it open slightly so you could peek through the other side. Nothing. Everything was dead silent. Good. Slowly and soundlessly pushing the curtain further aside, you made sure to take slow steps to make as little noise as possible. You soon were standing in the middle of the main room, in the center of the natural light that came from the ceiling, the moonlight shining almost a spotlight on your figure as you continued to creep closer and closer towards the tunnel entry. A loud heavy bang of metal made you harshly flinch and hitch your breath. You froze up, staying as still as a statue. After a couple agonizingly long seconds, you turned your head towards the source of the noise. Light came from inside Donnie’s lab that spilled out of the door. You could barely hear sounds of metal objects being moved around in there and mentally cursed. Of course Donnie was awake. Why did you not think of that!? He basically ran on coffee 24/7 and was known for pulling multiple all-nighters on tech and inventions. He didn’t seem to notice you were out of your room though, considering he hasn’t come out of his yet. From the sound that came from his lab you assumed he was building something and was most likely putting his full attention on it. You hoped at least.
Whatever. You had no time to ponder. You took another slow step forward, keeping a slow and silent place towards the large metal entry to the labyrinth of sewers. Even after you made it beyond the tunnel entry, you still continued to slowly tiptoe your way until you were sure you were completely out of sight. After turning a quick corner in the tunnel, you laid your back against the stone wall and slowly panted with wide eyes. You took a moment before snapping out of your shock trance. No time to stop and rest now. Forcefully pushing yourself off of the wall you bolted down the tunnels, desperately looking for any traces of a possible exit. Your feet slapped against the cold stone floor, turning multiple corners. You could only briefly remember the paths that you had taken when exploring the sewers looking for Raph. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you skidded around another corner. Luckily, there were graffiti drawings on most of the walls, most likely done by Mikey, that you used as a map. And based on the graffiti, you were almost there. You were almost free!
Your blood suddenly went cold when you heard it. Another set of feet slapping against the floor at a rapid pace somewhere behind you. No. No way you were stopping now that you had gotten this far. You urged your legs to run faster, using all of your strength to keep going. You glanced at a graffiti drawing of a smiley face melting and a small light of hope shone in you. This was it. Bolting around the last corner, you took only a few swift steps before leaping into the canal of green murky water that splashed violently along the rounded walls of the sewer tunnel. You ungracefully crashed into the water with a loud splash, the strong current taking you away.
You poked your head out of the water, coughing a bit, Another splash came from somewhere behind you, and snapping your head in that direction, you saw a Donnie hot on your trail, swimming without a problem towards you. How did he know you had left so quick!? He must have placed some kind of alert in the sewer tunnels too. You panicked, taking in a gulp of air and submerging yourself back under the water. You swam as fast as you could, violently kicking your legs as the current continued to sweep you to what you hoped to be the exit. You held your breath for as long as you could, occasionally throwing your head above the water to take in a large heave of air before continuing to swim with the overpowering tide.
You didn't know how long you had been swimming. What was probably seconds felt like forever. You could swim pretty fast. Almost faster than Donnie, but he was catching up.
A dead end with a tunnel. You could see a tunnel ahead, blocked by a rusted circular vault door with a wheel handle. Looking over your shoulder you could see Donnie's faint silhouette swimming towards you at a scarily quick pace. You needed to get the vault open and quick. You could feel your lungs desperately begging for air. Your hands gripped the wheel as you placed your feet against the stone wall, using all your strength to turn it. The wheel had obviously not been used in a while, from how hard it was to turn and how slow it did. You panicked slightly, using more of your strength. Bubbles left your mouth as your hands gripped the wheel tighter. Slowly but surely the wheel began to turn and after a few more seconds you were able to pry the metal vault open. You swung it open and hastily swam through the tunnel. You turned around, catching a quick glance at Donnie who was dangerously close, and slammed the vault shut, turning the handle as far as it could go. You then felt the wheel break off from the vault in your hands. You flinched when you heard a loud bang from the other side, and quickly fled.
Your lungs burned. If you didn’t get oxygen soon you would drown here. Swimming as fast as you could, you saw not far ahead was the end of the tunnel that led to more water, except the water was cleaner. Kicking your legs fiercely, you swam out of the tunnel and immediately swam up. Your head burst out of the water, taking in a loud gasp of air. The harsh inhale of air prompted you to cough harshly. You looked around for land, still coughing violently and wheezing. A wooden dock was the first thing you saw and you promptly began to weakly doggy paddle towards it. Your hands gripped the edge of the dock, slowly pulling yourself on it. You flopped on your stomach, panting heavily as water dripped off of your body. You rolled on to your back instead, spreading your limbs in a starfish position.
You looked up at the sun, squinting your eyes at the bright light. Using your arm to shield your eyes, the realization hit you with a burst of joy. The blue sky. The bright sun. You were free. You were finally free! You sat up, the adrenaline wearing off slowly. You knew you couldn't stay for long. Who knows when the brothers would be after after Donnie alerts them you had run away. You got up, having a bit of trouble from your shaking and sore legs from all of the tiring running and swimming. You stumbled as you walked at a quick pace across the dock and towards the tall city buildings that could be seen from your location. You need to get as far as possible from the escape exit you just took. You hoped you never saw those turtles ever again.
#rottmnt#rottmnt x reader#yandere rottmnt#x reader#yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#yandere
297 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 20 - Tease
Sakura & Suo (Windbreaker)
a/n: wrote this at the beginning of october because i read tbe whole manga and loved it. my first (and hopefully not last) windbreaker fic featuring two of my fav losers from the show. anyways, this was my own prompt so.. i hope yall enjoy it anyway <3
——
“gahaha, stohohop ihihit!” the girl on the screen laughed when her boyfriend began tickling her. her hair whipped all over the place as she squirmed around, but her boyfriend was unrelenting in his attack.
even so, the scene seemed so real and so full of love.
it’s just acting. it’s just acting.
“whats this? does tickling also make you blush?”
“HAH?!” sakura whipped his head around, ready to fix suo a glare, but the other paid him no mind.
“i suppose it is a form of affection..” suo continued.
“shut up..”
“don’t worry, i think its cute!” suo ‘reassured’, though it only worsened sakura’s fluster.
“c-cute?!” sakura cried, shocked at the words suo was saying. “i’m not cute at all, do you hear me?”
“speaking of which, are you ticklish?” suo asked, but it sounded more like he was just thinking out loud than actually asking sakura, as he put a finger to his chin.
“i..” don’t know, sakura stopped himself. he had always been alone and that meant there were experiences he never felt before, and it felt a bit pathetic to admit it, even if he knew suo would never judge him for something like that. he pressed his lips into a thin line.
suo turned, looking at the other, with a more neutral expression on his face before a second later, his lips curled up into something more sinister.
“well, let’s say we find out.”
“W-WHAT?! no way you’re doing that!” sakura glared, backing away from suo to the edge of the sofa. he had accidentally caused the remote to fall to the floor, shutting the tv off in the process, but neither of them noticed.
“why not? i’m curious. where are you ticklish?” suo asked, crawling closer over to sakura. sakura froze when he saw that there was no room for him to go. he realized that he could just kick suo off if he really didn’t want this but…
he had never experienced tickling before. he knew what it was, as a concept, but have never actually felt it, and sue him for being a bit curious about what it felt like. and so, when his leg was at the perfect angle to push suo away, he curled in instead.
“oh, are you actually letting me?” suo asked, seeming a bit surprised that sakura hadn’t tried to fight him off.
“s-shut up! i’m just sore so i don’t feel like fighting right now!” bullshit, sakura lives and breathes fighting. “just get it over with!”
“okay~” suo said, repositioning himself so he was sitting next to sakura, who was leaning against the armrest of the sofa.
tentatively, suo began squeezing at sakura’s sides, and sakura immediately bit his lip, feeling laughter already threatening to slip out. it was tingly, itchy, gentle, and it was ticklish.
“oh, you don’t need to resist. i can already see you want to laugh, so why don’t you?”
“i— agh!” sakura giggled when suo touched a particularly sensitive spot on his abdomen.
“you’re blushing so much,” suo commented, and sakura felt his face heat up even more.
“s-suo..!” sakura said, slowly, still trying to resist laughing.
“hm.. here maybe?” suo poked a finger at sakura’s ribs.
“eeh!” sakura gasped at the ticklish jolt he felt. he bit his lip, trying to conceal another sound threatening to pull from his lips, but the second suo did it again… and kept doing it again… “AHAHA, nohoho, s-suo!”
“ah~ there we go!” suo smiled, looking proud.
“gahahaha!” sakura giggled as the ticklish sensation continued.
“who would’ve thought that you would be to ticklish?” suo teased, and sakura looked down, trying to avert his eyes and instead focused on getting suo’s hands away from him.
“plehehehease..!”
“and begging? i’m seeing a new side of you today.” upon hearing those, sakura closed his mouth, but they opened again in laughter almost immediately, finding himself unable to conceal his laughter anymore.
“s-suo! stahahaap!” sakura cried, starting to feel a bit delirious. suo seemed to take him seriously, as he stopped after a few more seconds, and sakura lied there, too exhausted to do anything.
“well, that was fun,” suo replied, a minute later. sakura glared at him, face hotter than the sun, but didn’t say anything. never in his life would he ever admit that he enjoyed his first ever tickle fight.. or as suo would likely say, “tickle attack”.
#tickling#tickle fic#jai’s fic#windbreaker#lee!sakura#ticklish!sakura#ler!suo#augtickletober2024#tickletober 2024#tickletober
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok guys i never post on here but heres my take on the sturniolo space camp situation if anyone gives a fuck
SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I DONT EXPECT ANYONE TO READ EVERYTHING NO ONE WILL PROB SEE THIS ANYWAY 💀 ill prob delete this icl its just a lil rant 🥰🥰
and if u disagree with me idc im just expressing my opinions 😭 read the whole thing so i can justify myself before u start attacking me
before i say anything im not just sticking up for nick just because im a fan of the triplets. like some people are only sticking up for him because they hate to admit that he would ever lie or do anything wrong- and they’re defending him with no reasoning other than “he would never 🥺” like stfu. what im saying is that i don’t know for sure whether the ‘bee better’ guy is telling the truth, for all i know he might be chatting utter shit. but if he is telling the truth, then im saying that i understand nick lied but its not necessarily a negative thing.
so like first of all i dont see the issue with nick not being the founder of the brand. like yes i understand its ‘morally wrong’ to lie and its misinformation but i think we will live… it doesnt make any difference to the products or the people who buy them. like ik people say that they only bought it to support nick and they wouldn’t have bought it if they knew it was just some random brand, but its not just some ‘random brand’- they are still supporting nick cos he gets payed for advocating it. by purchasing the products, theyre keeping the brand afloat which means nick will get payed for being the ‘face of the brand’ and doing a good job at advertising. or in simple terms, even if nick isnt the founder of the entire brand he is still a huge part of the company and is definetly getting a fat bag from all of this. like yall are acting like you wouldnt lie if a company said they would pay you to do so- bffr we would all do what nick did.
and the other main thing is everyone is complaining about the price all of a sudden. like if you are all protesting about how nick has nothing to do with the origin of the brand then surely he also wouldn’t be able to control the price? so according to everyone saying the lip balms are not his idea, don’t be mad at nick for the ridiculous pricing if he apparently ‘had nothing to do with it in the first place‘. and aside from that, the pricing literally had nothing to do with the fact that he lied about being the founder- it would probably cost the same either way so why are people only getting worked up about the pricing now that he is being ‘exposed’? like honestly people are just looking for excuses to say he’s a bad person like what 😭
and ik this doesnt have anything to do with spacecamp, but in general these days everyone is saying how the triplets don’t put any effort into their content anymore and only do it for the money. i think you are forgetting that youtube is their full time paying job. doing youtube as a hobby and doing it as a career are completely different- and most people find that when they pursue their hobbies as a career choice they start to enjoy it less since they feel under pressure to perform a certain way (and don’t come at me for saying that because im “babying” the triplets, piss off).
put it this way, people that have high paying jobs that sit in an office all day don’t do that type of work for their enjoyment- they only work in that environment because they want to receive a larger income instead of having an enjoyable job with a poor wage. this is exactly the same as the triplets’ situation, i doubt very much that they actually do youtube for their personal enjoyment. at the end of the day they have to pay the bills and youtube is their only job- its not always going to be fun like it used to be (both for them and for us watching).
and for all of you thinking ‘well they shouldnt be youtubers if they cant entertain people’ you have to understand that getting a different job takes time. like the whole process of finding a career, interviewing etc. and as well as that, they are probably terrified to even consider looking for another career because of their batshit crazy fans (including me 💀). like can we just cut them some slack and let them get on with their job 😭. and at the end of the day they cant just stop being youtubers, they will never be able to live their lives as regular people now that they have created their platform- i doubt they will ever do anything else bc of the fear of being recognised in public whilst they are doing a more “normal” job.
and for the love of god this is NOT me saying that the triplets are gonna quit youtube. like i said, its their full time job. im just giving my opinion on people saying they are only doing it for the money- and quite honestly they are, but is that really such a bad thing? like im sorry but they aren’t just posting for our entertainment, they need money one way or another.
also is anyone else excited for the stream later like i hope nick will say something about all this and not just stay quiet until it all blows over
i think thats all i was gonna say i cant remember but if theres more then i will say 😘😘😘 sorry i waffle alot
#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#space camp#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#christoper sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Do Something About It.
By j1g-s4w
A/N: I wrote this in like 5 hours while sitting in class and doing absolutely nothing at all. I kept thinking about what Adam must’ve felt and what he went through in those few days alone. Hope yall enjoy, it’s not my best work but it’s content 🌀
Word count: 3,680
Character count: 19,025
‼️WARNING‼️
This content is a little graphic. Talk of rotting bodies, pee and poo. If you are uncomfortable with reading about those sorts of things, either do I not read or read with discretion.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Day 1
“Game over.”
The man looming in the now dimly lit doorway pulled the heavy door shut, leaving Adam completely swallowed in darkness. His ankle strained against the metal chain binding him to the rusty wall pipe, his right arm outstretched, reaching out to the hope he once had, and his throat raw from his screamed out sobs. His body went limp after a moment of begging and wailing for mercy. The shot wound in his shoulder was inflamed and swelling. As he lay on the now blood stained tile, he brought his hand up to his shoulder and grasped it tightly, hoping to stop some of the bleeding. The pain was like a sharp burn. It reminded him of his 6th birthday party, when Scott Tibbs, his best friend at the time, had stabbed him with a rusty nail. It was the same burning sensation in his new wound that he had felt once before. The same burning sensation filled in his throat, another feeling that he was all too familiar with. His mind drifted to the man who had left him that wound. His eyes began to pool, and he wept as he still held his shoulder. The pain was almost unbearable, but it was all he left to remember that man by.
“Lawrence..”
Adam continued to sob and his mind was left racing with thoughts of where Lawrence could be or if he was really coming back.
A few minutes passed, his sobs came to a gradual stop. He remained on the floor, staring up at the ceiling to allow his eyes to adjust to the pitch black bathroom. Lying in the dark like this reminded him of the many nights he’d lose power and would have to navigate through his dark and cluttered apartment. Adam was often exhausted from his ‘day job’ so the dark never bothered him much. Come to think of it now, he never really used that much electricity anyways. All of the bill always went to the damn dark room equipment. It was like a loop. Process the photos, make money off of those photos, and use that money to pay the bill to make more photos. He had forgotten to pay the electric bill quite a few times, and he had forgotten again about a week ago. Last night, when he had come home to process his newest pictures, he had fallen asleep at his desk, which he did often. Waking up a few hours later in complete darkness wasn’t a shock, but it was certainly annoying. He remembered grabbing his flashlight.. no batteries. He remembered hearing something. Grabbing his camera. That doll. And he remembered opening that closet. If he had just swung his bat as soon as he opened it, this could’ve all been avoided. He could’ve gone on with his life. The little life he had anyways.
Adam had always wanted to be a vet growing up, but he was never really good in school. Maybe if he had swung that bat, he would’ve still had a chance. Then this bathroom would’ve remained empty, painless, and quiet. But Adam knew he wouldn’t become a vet. He would’ve remained himself; pathetic, poor, and a voyeur. And that man. The blonde man who once stood at the opposite side of the room. He would’ve remained a nameless man who stood as Adam’s muse. His model and his work of art. His source of financial income and a secret he kept to himself. But that man did have a name. And he had a job, a wife, a child, and a secret of his own. Adam didn’t care though, at least not before. Lawrence may have only been a project to him, but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. The 6 hours that were spent together with him showed Adam that he was in fact a human, too. He may have been cold, maybe even condescending at times, but he knew Lawrence cared about his family. Adam had family too, but seeing someone act out of pure desperation and insanity just to see their family again made him question things. He knew he needed to reach out to his mom again. He thought about it a lot. But now, he meant it. He kept telling himself that once he got out, once he was free, he’d call his mom and apologize. Maybe he’d even apply to vet school.
There was a stray cat that would hang out in the stairwell of his apartment building. Every day and every night, anytime he’d see the cat, he’d give it a gentle stroke and then be on his way. In his head, he had named the cat Flash, but he knew that if he ever said it out loud, he’d grow too attached to the thing and he couldn’t afford a cat anyways. Now, he’d do anything to see that cat again.
His eyes had adjusted to the dark and he crooked his head up to look over to the door. How he wished that door would open to reveal Lawrence back with help, or someone who had just stumbled upon the place. Or even the damn cat. But the door stayed shut and the air remained stale and still. The pain in his shoulder hadn’t fully subsided, but he was now used to the pulsing and the sting. He sat up from the floor and his eyes were instantly planted on the corpse in front of him. The man that he had beaten to death. Panic had set it once again and he used all of the leg strength he had to push it as far from him as he could. The metal chain dragging and scraping the floor made him cringe and he could feel himself becoming angry again. He reached up the wall and rose to his feet to try and get a better grasp on what to do, if he could even do anything. His eyes were squinted, not a single drop of light anywhere, and the room was too dark to make out any real details. He raised his hands to his head and began to sway and pace slightly to calm himself down. He felt hopeless. It felt like hours had passed when it had only been 20 minutes. Adam sat himself on the edge of the bathtub and cupped his head in his hands. They were filthy. One stained a slight yellowish brown color up to the elbow and both covered in dust, dirt, and blood. But it just looked like a black stain now in the darkness.
While sitting in the silence, any sound, drip, or creek made his eyes shoot open with hope. 20 minutes turned into 30, then 40, then an hour. He had sat himself back in the corner on the floor and rested his head against the broken wall tiles. He doesn’t remember when, or even how he fell asleep, but he had woken up feeling groggy after a few hours had passed. There was no telling in what time it was or how long it had been now. When his eyes fully opened, he was hit with realization that this wasn’t a bad dream. He sighed heavily and the deep breath he took in smelled of mildew and rot. It was enough to make him gag, but he was able to hold down the urge to vomit. That would only make things worse. His body felt sticky and hot. He reached to the hem of his blood soaked shirt and pulled it up and over his head. His shoulder ached, the bullet was still nested deep inside, but surely the doctor who put it there knew what he was doing. Adam knew that his body would be too weak to fight off any sort of infection. He tossed his ruined shirt off to the side and brought his hand up to the injured shoulder. His breathing was now heavy, and the pain was getting worse. It felt like a burning welt or blister. The bullet was practically begging to come out. He took a few shaky breaths and placed his fingers onto the entrance of the wound. He sucked the air through his teeth, his fingers felt like fire next to his new bodily trauma. He held his breath and slowly but firmly inched his fingers into the hole. His eyes filled with tears as he choked for air. He let out a suppressed scream as he inched in deeper, finally feeling where the bullet had been lodged. Taking a few seconds to regain some strength, he takes another deep breath, but this time is unaffected by the odorized air and is too focused on this agonizing self procedure. He grabs the bullet between his finger and thumb and starts to pull. The pain is like nothing he had ever experienced before. His face was wet with tears and spit as he continued to pull and scream to fight off the pain. Finally, his fingers and the bullet withdrew from the wound and he was brought a feeling of slight relief. The pain was still present, but now it felt empty. No more pressure, and a hope that it may start to heal normally now.
Adam held the bullet tightly in his hand, not really knowing why. He took a few slow breaths and closed his eyes. The room was still hot and he was covered in his own blood, tears, spit and sweat. He longed to take a shower or even a nice bath. As a kid, his mom would always run him a bath after a long day of playing outside. His eyes shot open and his gaze adverted to the dark and dingy bathtub.
“As if.”
He knew he would never take another bath again. The thought of being submerged in water in such a small space; it would be like waking up in here all over again. Adam reached over to his damp, balled up shirt and used the very few spots without blood to try and soak up some of his sweat. It was really no use, he’d just end up sweating more. But he did anything he could right now to pass the time. But it didn’t even feel like time was passing. He felt like he was waiting for nothing now, but he still sat and waited. What else was there to do?
Adam still had the bullet in his grip and he brought it closer to his face to try and get a good look at it. It was slightly sticky from the slow drying blood all over it, but he didn’t really register that. As he stared at it, his mind went back to that doctor. The look of his face when he was sprawled out in front of Adam and wailing about his wife and daughter. He wondered if Lawrence meant to shoot him in the shoulder, or if it was a ‘happy’ accident. Maybe Lawrence had been so far gone in that moment, he didn’t care if Adam lived or died. But he did live, and he didn’t understand why.
Adam was never very religious, but right now, he couldn’t help but look at that bullet and wonder. If God wasn’t real, then why did he survive? Was it out of pure coincidence, or was someone or something ensuring his survival? No. He knew there was no way that any god would allow any of this to happen. Even though he had survived, he still has to live with everything that happened. He wrapped his fist tightly around the bullet and considered chucking it across the room. But he couldn’t do it. In his hand, he held the only thing that kept him connected to that doctor. To Lawrence. His only hope for freedom and survival now.
He threw his head back and leaned against the wall once again, still holding the bullet tightly. His shoulder was still pulsing, his face red from tears, and his whole body stiff and sore. All he could do was wait.
Day 2
Adam opened his eyes once again to still find himself in the same spot. The hunger in his stomach had become too hard to ignore and his bladder felt like a balloon. He reached his hand up to search for a pipe to help lift him off the ground. His body started to feel weak and it ached all over. He shifted his way over to the tub and unbuttoned his jeans so he could at least take a piss. His head felt heavy and the darkness started to play into his disorientation. As he leaned over the tub, the piss hit loud against the rusty metal. The heat and lack of ventilation caused the smell of fresh urine to infect the air, but Adam was too desensitized to notice. Once he was finished, he dropped back down to the floor in front of the tub and sighed. His head was pounding. Probably from fear.
Was Lawrence even coming back? How long had it been? He brushed the hair out of his face with his hand. The room was getting hotter by the second and he was drenched in sweat. The smell of the room had caught up with him now and it filled his nostrils with stale, thick air. It smelled now like piss, rot and iron. He put his hand on his mouth, gagging again at the smell but repressing any sort of need to puke.
All the attention was now suddenly on the door. A clatter was heard from the other side. Could it be Lawrence? Was he finally back? Was he finally going to be able to experience freedom again?
He waited..
Silence.
He waited a little longer.
More silence.
He was able to call out.
“Hello..?”
His throat was dry and his voice was raspy. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had water, but now it was all he wanted. All he wanted was water, a shower, that stupid cat and that stupid fucking doctor.
He felt angry and annoyed when there was no response. He grabbed a small piece of the broken tile off the floor and threw it across the room. He felt betrayed. Abandoned. Deep down he knew he wasn’t getting out of there. He reached down to throw another peice of tile, but his hand landed back on the bullet. He picked it up and examined it in his fingers. And he felt the sadness and pain raise in his stomach. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to get the hell out of that room. He clutched the bullet in his fist now and threw it. It made a clattering noise before it landed in its new permanent home, and the room fell completely silent once again.
As he sat there, now feeling helpless, he thought about the people who might look for him if they ever noticed. He wanted to believe that Lawrence would come back, but by the looks of it, he may have been dead. His body somewhere a few feet outside the door, decaying while Adam sits and waits for him. His savior who will never arrive.
His mother would probably never know. She’d continue on thinking her son just stopped calling. Stopped caring. The only person he could think of that might actually ‘care’ was Scott. He knew that Scott would only care though because he takes pictures for Scott’s band. One no-show and Scott would be livid. At least it meant a shot at hope.
Adam’s eyes felt heavy. There was nothing else to do in this room but sleep and think. And he couldn’t fight the mental exhaustion that pulled him back into slumber. His head was leaning on the bathtub edge and the hard floor started to hurt his ass. But he didn’t want to move. He could feel depression settling into him. His dreams were only a replay of the things that happened a day prior. Only in the dream, it was Adam that had sawed off his own foot. And it was Adam who had pointed that gun at Lawrence and pulled the trigger. Seeing Lawrence fall to the ground with a lifeless thud made Adam jump awake. The sudden movement sent a sharp pain to his shoulder, still agape and probably infected despite his makeshift extraction. His neck was stiff, but he tried to look around the room. Nothing had changed. The adrenaline in his chest died down and his mind was brought back to his bitter reality. Somehow though, the dream felt worse. At least in the room now, it’s quiet. And he’s alone.
Adam dragged himself along the floor and back into his corner, and sat with his knees now pressed against his bare chest. His mind was left wandering, constantly on the thought of what happened to Lawrence. He had made a promise that he would come back, so something had to have happened. As Adam thought about it, he thought that maybe the same nameless man who rose from the dead and locked him in this room, killed Lawrence too. But he could feel something in his gut telling him that Lawrence was okay. That he was alive. That feeling made him sick. He didn’t know how to truly feel towards that man now. He wanted to hate him. To resent him. But he still held onto that hope that maybe he’d walk through that door and maybe everything would be alright. Maybe.
Day 3
Adam had passed out with his head on his knees. When he woke, he was already used to the hazy sight and stink of the room. His neck and back were stiff, and the sweat that coated his body was thick and sticky. His felt dizzy, which helped distract him a bit from the pain everywhere else in his body. He let his legs fall down to the floor, and he sat there limp. Every now and then, he’d feel a sharp pain from his stomach. The man was starving. He rested his hands gently across his stomach and squeezed his eyes closed. Right then, Adam began to pray. He didn’t know who he was praying to, or what he was praying for. Tears started to seep from his eyes. All he could do was beg.
“Please please please please..please…please…”
His begging for mercy turned into sobs. He felt truly alone and afraid. He was afraid of dying alone. Being forgotten. It seemed as though he already had been. Lawrence wasn’t coming. No one was coming.
He felt useless. He thought about what that man on the tape said. Adam was ‘angry and apathetic. But mostly just pathetic’. Even now his anger was present, but had no energy to show for it. However his apathy had been changed forever. He had learned something from this so called ‘game’ and it was that everyone, no matter who, is a person. A human being with a life that must be cherished and taken care of. If he was able to learn, then why was he still being punished? Did Lawrence learn anything? No. But his game wasn’t about learning. That may have been the goal, but he did what he did out of desperation. He did what he did because he couldn’t handle losing. If he had learned something, then he would’ve come back for Adam.
The passing hours all blurred together. Adam had no clue how long he had been there now. He was ready to give up. His body was weakening and his sweat glaze caused him to start shivering. He grabbed for his shirt, still bunched up next to him and put it back over his head, aching. The blood was dry and caked into the shirt, but he didn’t care. His now cold body felt weaker than it ever had. He dropped his arms to his sides out of exhaustion and he let his head rest against the pipes behind him. He didn’t care to do anything else now. All he wanted was sleep.
Day 4
He hadn’t moved an inch since he had dozed off. His chest was barely moving as he breathed. He was still alive physically, but mentally he was already dead. He had let go of hope. In his half awake state, he thought he had heard someone open the door and maybe even a flash of light. But he convinced himself it wasn’t real. It was a dream.
But then he felt the touch of another human being. He tried to open his eyes, but the light from the flashlight was too bright for him now. He could hear the voice of a woman. Her voice felt familiar, but he couldn’t figure out how, and he didn’t care. He felt hope and happiness wash over him as she tried to move his body. He was far weaker than he had been previously, and wasn’t able to hold himself up well. He could still hear her talking, but wasn’t focusing on her words. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He was ready to be free again. He thought about his mother and how he would call her as soon as he could. He thought about that stupid cat- Flash. And how he’d take him in. For once, Adam felt excited about living.
It was all ripped away from him when he felt that plastic wrapping cover his face. It was like getting locked in that room again. He wanted to fight. He wanted to punch, hit, kick and scream. But he couldn’t. His body and mind were too far gone. He tried, but to no avail. In his last moments, the tape replayed in his head again. ‘You might be in the room that you die in. So are you going to watch yourself die today Adam? Or do something about it?’
He may have won his game, but he never did anything about it. He won because Lawrence cheated. And he lost for the very same reason.
-
-
-
🌀
#saw#saw 2004#saw 2005#saw 2006#saw films#saw franchise#john kramer#adam faulkner stanheight#jigsaw#adam saw#adam faulkner#adam stanheight#saw .5#leigh whannell#saw fic#brain rot#saw bathroom#saw post#saw movie#saw movies#saw posting#sawtism#this fic is my baby#please be nice#Spotify
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
may or may not have stayed up all night reading this book as soon as I could get my hands on it but anyway I have some thoughts and most of them are screaming.
I really loved the book. Did it have flaws? Yes. Do I care? No. I'm 22, the targeted age range is something like 10-16. When I first got into this series I was the same age as nico. It's been a long journey getting older and changing and healing. Seeing that for Nico was all I really wanted from this book.
Also, realistic relationship struggles and growth!! Loved that!! Having a chronic illness is hard, your partner watching you suffer with it is also hard for them!! Having conversations and misunderstandings and awkward moments is how it goes!! After being in a 3 year relationship with someone I love very much I'm like,,, yes!! Thank you!! I have lifelong chronic illness!! It's not going away I gotta learn to live with it it's a part of me!! My partner struggles with it but is trying so hard and I love them so much!!! But I'm so much more than a pile of suffering and that's the point!!! You choose to keep trying and that's the point the book makes!! there's a whole scene about it and it's so important!!! Will starts to be more accepting and understanding and we love to see it! Nico accepts he needs to let himself move on and that it's ok to do that and not be angry with your past self for trying to stay alive!!
I make no sense and I don't care. But also, they're cringey and memey and dumb. They're hysterical and going a little bit crazy and they love each other and like, I'm not ok. Neither are they. Its been an extremely stressful week for them.
And I don't think it's super out of character because we barely know these people!! Nico has been suffering and in survival mode almost the whole time we have known him!! Will has been a background character most of the time!! Nico was a bubbly 10 year old and Will was like 4 sentences. Nico has made occasional/awkward/dark jokes and Will was shown to be stubborn and concerned and caring because demigods are ridiculously hard to keep alive. Let them be weird and cringey they're literal teenagers. Have you been in a high school with people obnoxiously dating. They are. The worst.
Broke: camp is empty because people wanna see their families
Woke: camp is empty because will and nico are just that couple who are cringe 100% of the time and everyone just noped out
I know I keep getting sidetracked but. Point is. nico and will seem out of character because of circumstances and time skips probably. Nicos finally in a stable place and can actually process things, mans is curious about the world he's in no wonder he's a memelord the internet just does that to you. People change when they're not in survival mode, I definitely am not the same person I was when I was 16. Not even the same person I was when I was 18. Or 20. Like, mental health glow ups bring out some of the best parts of you.
AND THANK YOU PIPER I FEEL SO SEEN RN, don't know what label I fit under, I am confusion but it's ok!! I am a big ole ace spectrum mess and maybe tomorrow it'll be different! Either way the book had a lot of great moments and no it's not the same as old rr books but it was never gonna be, the nostalgia associated with the original pjo series means nothing will ever live up to those books and that's kind of just life for some of yall. fuck knows I crave the joy I felt playing crash bandicoot for the first time. I miss that time of my life and it's ok to miss that but it's also ok to move forward and find new things that bring life joy and meaning!!
anyway. I enjoyed the sun and the star and I will continue to enjoy it regardless of what other people think, I can like things just because I do, or just because they make me happy. And this book definitely made me happy. Also holy fuck I need some sleep. Sorry about all the exclamation points it's all that's keeping me awake!!
#tsats spoilers#the sun and the star spoilers#solangelo spoilers#nico and will#damn#im tired#solangelo
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jjk 261 leaks ahead:
Alright I was going to post about this in the morning but I got distracted and needed time to process everything anyways.
I don't usually share my thoughts on the new chapters publicly but I will make an exception now 😔.
Yap incoming
ok, so there were a lot of theories floating around before 261 about if we would actually be getting a gojo comeback or not. Honestly, some people pointed out why gojo reviving might not be the best decision for the story, but I was placing bets on it anyways because I too was pretty bummed by his end and also because my naive self chose to believe it was the most likely choice for gege to make.
However I did try to keep my hopes reasonable, choosing to belive that it could just be a hallucination.
Truthfully, I didn't think it would be Kenjaku. I'd seen the theory that it could be them but I honestly doubted gege would do that. Yet in the depths of my copium filled soul I had always been holding onto the hope that kenjaku would somehow return to the story. When I tell you my secret little stash of cope was as potent as some gojo fans im telling the truth 😭.
I honestly hoped maybe it would be kenjaku, just maybe. This morning I sought out the leaks and you know what I saw? This:
I was DYING. For a second I thought gege had really done, I was in disbelief, I was in shock, I briefly wondered if this was a joke.
AND THEN I WAS SO HAPPY. I was like: Yes! Answers! Yuji-kenjaku interactions! An unexpected twist in the fight! Forget the logistics of how kenjaku ended up in Gojo's body, I was going to trust gege's cooking and enjoy the chapter before taking a step back and critiquing anything.
And then I read that it wasn't kenjaku. It was Yuta using kenjaku's ct.
I didn't want to belive it could be Yuta. Of all the outcome I thought it CANNOT be Yuta. Not possibly. BUT IT WAS. IT WAS YUTA.
I have felt emotional when consuming media before, and sometimes underwhelmed or critical when something didn't rub me the right way, but I'd never understood people who act so utterly devastated by an author's decisions.
I UNDERSTAND NOW.
I've been mourning all day man 😭. My gojo cope, my kenjaku cope, all of it down the drain just like that AND ALL AT ONCE. I genuinely am not sure what about this chapter gas prompted such emotion in me. Am I lobotomized after all? I choose to belive its the sheer shock of this chapters events.
Tbh, I read the rest of the chapter in a bit of a daze and I'd have to go back and look over it again to share any actual thoughts or analysis, but I will says some other things stood out at me about it.
first of all, I don't hate Yuta. He's not my favorite character but I don't hate him and I wish the best to you yuta fans, however yall are feeling. his line about how the others are so worried about becoming monsters, unknowing that they've forced that role onto gojo all this time hit pretty hard for me. And now Yuta is taking on the same role since gojo's gone. He's strong and is not just taking Gojo's body but in a way taking on his position as the 'monster' of the jujutsu world, even if only for the dubious amount of time he had left.
Also the way sukuna just, punches yuji aside 😭. Nahh. The disrespect. He rlly just sees yuta in gojo's body and tosses yuji away. Rlly hope my boy beats him up next chapter and it doesn't become a yuta-one-man-show.
Overall I'm dying, I'm crying, I'm gritting my teeth, I miss kenjaku, I miss gojo, rip yuta 😭
(Please gege give me my wife back. Even just a kenjaku flashback is enough. Gege pls.)
#Sorry for yapping#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#kenjaku#jjk kenjaku#jjk leaks#chapter 261#jjk chapter 261#Jjk spoilers#yuji itadori#yuta okkotsu#gojo satoru#sukuna
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kyle Gaz Garrick x NbBlack!Reader
Coffee shop AU
Kyle was wiping the counter, after serving a client waiting fir the next one to arrive. He can't help the smile, hearing Ghost and Soap arguing in the kitchen about Soap messing up something and Ghost yelling at him, when they both suck at baking. Meanwhile Price is in the back, enjoying his cigar, but also so close to opening the damn door to kick their asses.
The soft ding! of the door pulls him away from the distant arguing of the two men. "Hello! and welcome to Cake Force 141, how can I help you today?" he says, huge beaming smile on his face. "Hi! Can I have 2 strawberry shortcakes and a café au lait?" you said, looking up from your phone to Kyle's face.
He stares at you a little, before apologizing and taking your order "oh uh yes! right away!" you nod, giggling a little before sitting in the corner, reading or scrolling on your phone. You can feel his gaze on you, which makes you smile, but you don't call him out.
"KYLE! CAN YA TELL GHOST THAT YE DONT PUT CINNAMON IN COOKIES!! FUCKERS GONNA KILL US!" He sighs heavily, turning towards Soap sending him a death glare.
-----
15 minutes have passed, and you're sitting there, looking beautiful and sipping on your coffee, smiling at whatever cat video you just saw. He can't help but steal glances your way while serving customers. Of course this didn't go unnoticed by the others. "Ya think he'll ask for their number?" "Maybe who knows ya slag" "That was unnecessary."
"Excuse me? I would like to pay" you said approaching Gaz with a smile that had him cry inside. "Oh sure! that will be..£11.85! (I have no idea how British money works💀) you nod, taking out your wallet and handing him money, along with a little piece of paper. "well goodbye then, Kyle"
He just stood there watching you leave, processing what just happened with the 3 other men screaming and cheering like high school girls. He looked at the paper seeing your number and a little note "you have a really pretty smile, let's keep in touch!" with a little doodle and a heart.
-----
You came back two days later, alone again. Kyle was really happy to see you, after all you guys spent the last two days chatting for hours. "Hey! How was your day?" "It was doing okay, needed to see your smile to feel better" needless to say, you just stayed close to him with your little cup of tea or coffee just talking and giggling.
YALL IM SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES I KNOW NOTHING ANOUT THE SCOTTISH ACCENT THE BRITISH ACCENT AND THE MONEY☠️ anyways hope you guys like it!
#gaz x reader#cod x reader#cod x y/n#gaz mw2#kyle gaz garrick#cod#cod x you#gaz cod#nb reader#mw2 fanfic#cafe au#sweetest boy#i love him#cod price#ghost mw2#cod mw soap#black reader#cod x black reader#nb!reader
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
thought i’d make an “ongoing projects list” for the few who are gonna go to my profile and read this so here is the december 11 2023 deer fanfic status report, ordered from highest priority to lowest priority, where for once i actually go into detail about the wip projects of mine
-
first on our list is a fanfic i started on saturday night, ‘The Ferryman’. it’s a short oneshot focusing on Eiki, Komachi, and their boss/worker dynamic and also what their life actually is like over in higan. the premise is just eiki joining komachi on break to go skip stones and talk and they eventually just start talking about how they actually view the other, friendship development heartfelt moment etc etc (it is NOT yuri. i would NEVER write about women falling in love)
it’s the first in a series of unconnected oneshots where i write about characters i’ve never studied before (credits to riguren for the idea). it’s not gonna have much going on and all of the works in the series will probably be really light hearted. i’m most likely doing Satori next since the one time i’ve written her seriously she was just Grumpy because i haven’t studied her before. anyways this oneshot series is going to contain zero romance because i want to explore more non-romantic relationships but dw more homosexuality coming soon
ferryman is currently 1,022 words
-
second in my priority list is a fic I started all the way back in late July. this one is OLD old. the title is, i shit you not,
‘You know the song by Phil Collins, "In the Air of the Night" about that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drownin' but didn't, then Phil saw it all, then at a show he found him?’
it fits in the ao3 title character limit. i’ve checked. the title has literally no connection to the story itself. it’s a line from Eminem - Stan. i’ll get to how i came up with it later.
so the actual premise is flandre is bored so sakuya takes her on a night walk, then the two creeps meet the grassroots trio (wakasagihime, sekibanki, and kagerou if yall dk) and it’s basically just flandre having no social skills and the grassroots being absolutely terrified of these two widely known and feared people in gensokyo who are actually much politer than they ever could have expected. it also contains a yukkuri joke that i am considering writing out because it didn’t land well
as for how i got to the name, here is a message i sent to my friend on discord three days after starting it:
so my thought process was basically:
“ok well maybe call it night walk”
“nah too boring. maybe something that describes a specific aspect?”
“oh I could call it ‘in the air of the night’ which is some phrase I heard somewhere”
“hey where did I hear that phrase”
“oh yeah an Eminem lyric”
“Fuck it. Title it the original Eminem lyric.”
hilarious yes i know. in the air of the night is currently 2,488 words (I ONLY PICKED IT BACK UP RECENTLY FORGIVE ME)
-
third up is that elusive “Experimental Oneshot” i’ve been talking about in my notes for the past two months. it is called “They Beat The Shit Out of Each Other at The End” for obvious reasons. it’s basically just a crackship except they’re friends instead of lovers
so our first protagonist is reimu. she’s really lonely and sad so she gets even more lonely and sad and also way too drunk and lies on her front porch all night crying because what else do you do
our second protagonist is cirno. she’s walking through the forest at like 2am alone because she wants to challenge reimu to a rematch. and also because she’s a dumbass
the two meet and through cirno’s stubbornness and reimu’s drunkenness the two are locked in a stalemate on reimu’s front porch which eventually leads to actual conversation and before you know it they’re actually starting to enjoy each other’s company
eventually day breaks and cirno still wants that fight so it happens and the entire second half of the fic, the fight, is just a really long “hmm rumia ex? what if there was cirno ex where she was just ice goku” joke and she kind of kicks reimu’s shit in. it’s gonna be great and she is not going to respect spell card rules at all
currently 2,778 words
-
numba four is uhh. actually this one is probably above the night walk one so consider it second place it’s modern technology chapter 4. sanae and reimu and marisa play a game of monopoly together and get really fucking mad. that’s the entire premise. only 701 words so far i know that is nothing but i have NOT been on my a game lately. gonna be peak though i swear it
-
and that is all, actually! i also have many unstarted ideas, i might do a sequel to this post tomorrow where i talk about those
thank you for reading (no tags this one is only 4 my loyal followers)
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
I haven’t seen you post anything on ao3 since July, did I miss something??? (referring to your zero notes zero kudos post)
No, you didn't miss anything on my ao3. I've just been going through an Anakin whump phase on my tumblr lately (with answers to asks and miscellaneous posts and fanart -- some of which I already deleted when they got 0 notes, including a fanart I posted today. So even if you go looking, you wouldn't find all of them). So because of that, whether or not it's true, it personally feels like ppl aren't interested in certain things I'm excited about (tho the like.... three or four people who have shown interest, tyvm). And I'm really grateful to everyone who has read my fics on ao3. If I didn't have that huge bewildering amount of support to fall back on, I'm sure I'd be a lot worse off. So I greatly appreciate that. And at the very least, if all else fails, my mom will show support for all of my posts/fanart/fics lmao. Anyway, so I'm well aware lots of ppl dont have those things to rely on, so I'm hella not trying to take them for granted. ❤️ I'm very grateful and feel very lucky that so many people have said such kind and heartfelt things about my writing.
But there are certain things I still carry a lot of shame for liking. No one could ever make me feel ashamed about 5PE, but my biggest dream is to one day draw Anakin dubconnishly sucking Palpatine's dick. And my favorite fic universe to fantasize abt rn is the Vader Mpreg one. And those are things I do feel ashamed for liking at times. So when those are the things I post (currently on tumblr) that get 0 attention (esp when other things are getting attention), it sorta starts to reinforce the shame I'm already feeling.
Like, I spent 8 hours yesterday drawing that fanart I posted (which I deleted a few minutes ago). I skipped dinner and stayed late at work for 2 hours on Friday to finish writing this post on my work computer (bc my personal pc crashes if i try to make tumblr posts). Did I make either post to get notes? No. It was fun for me. Just the process of it was fun for me. I enjoyed myself so much!!! Totally worth it.
But do I regret posting them publicly instead of just keeping them for myself and my friends? ... Honestly, yeah, I kinda do.
Probably people did like the posts but are afraid to be seen liking things so dark and deranged. And like, that's okay, because I'm brave, I'm super brave, and I will be the first to post any deranged content out of any group of people. But I have limits, too. And if people are willing to read 5PE or shadow AU but not willing to read about Vader's uterus, then I start to feel less brave. :/ And I start to become demoralized over other things too.
Like, I was set to post chapter 10 of 5PE this weekend, but I haven't been able to work on it. Every Shadow, being less dark, is even harder to work on. Because if my perception is that ppl find me sick and grotesque and deranged for my most fucked up ideas (that's my perception, not necessarily reality), then it hurts to have my tamer content be supported instead.
Is that fair to yall? No, not at all. Am I trying to guilt trip anyone? Absolutely not. It's just a current unfortunate reality that's bumming me out, and there's not much anyone can do to change it. I just gotta let the feelings run their course.
Anyway thanks for reaching out anon. I feel better having been able to air all of this. Though I'll probably still step away to some extent (how long? who knows. The depressive episode will decide. But prob not for that long.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I'm writing another campaign
This time its pirate themed and definitely not a rip-off of an anime I've never watched
If you're one of my players, don't read this because this will just be the nonsensical ramblings of a mad DM going insane over trying to shove random ideas together with a pinch of satire
Please ignore any spelling errors and enjoy the show
So there was this pirate dude
He old, he ded, and he had treasure. Pirates like treasure, right? Pirate players want treasure, right? Boom, player motivation.
But theres this other* pirate
The astrict gotcha, right? I'll explain in the "spoilers" section I guess lmao
So this dude isn't any normal pirate. He's a Warforged. And he somehow got fused to the mast of his ship. And is missing his arms and legs. And a lot of his memory. Bro even got wood where metal should be. His name is Stan (or Stanly or Stanford or S.T.A.N.). Stan want pirate treasure.
Player stuff
So theres a thingy I wanna put within each of my players' backstories: they each have the fraction of a magical unidentifiable crystal in their possession. It somehow got into their possession (to the players digression), and always somehow gets back into their possession.
They also somehow have a reason to join a random Pirate Captain that's looking for a crew. They could've heard from posters, job listings in taverns, word of mouth, etc. Said pirate captain is Stan.
I'd like for the players to start at level 2 or 3, tbd. I like the idea of them having some experience, and knowing enough of their craft to be comfortable exploring and adventuring.
ZA WARUDO
Sorry, I had to. Anyways, I used a free map making program to make a possibly prototype map for this world, yall should lmk if I should post it.
The known world is spots of land encompassed by water, encompassed by a long circular strip of land called "Giant's Path". No one goes past it, due to rumors and myths. Only few are brave to go past the Giant's path, and there are no existing maps or documentation of what lies past.
Spoilers and BBEG stuff
I hope no one reading this will eventually be a player, because this shit is wild and I'd rather see your reaction at the table.
So predictably, Stan is the old dead pirate. Do you wanna know how he ended up like that?
Its wild.
Are you sure you wanna know?
Ok, but I warned you, this is some of the weirdest writing I've done.
Death. Literally Death.
You ever see the new Puss in Boots movie? The one where he wants that wishing star? Yeah, that. Death gets pissed at virtually imortal mortal, so Death wants to punish said mortal.
Death succeeded in this campaign, hiding away Stan's treasure, and binding him to his ship. The idea is that Stan was an untrustworthy and arrogant pirate who would always betray anyone who trusted him, so Death split up his Battery Gem thingy between random people to force Stan to work with people. Death believes Stan can't work with others, so he even made it a little easier by making the gem the key to wherever the treasure is held.
I'm still in the process of writing this, and I'd love tips and ideas! I love writing campaigns, and I love running them more, especially if my players enjoy them. I want to make this as enjoyable as possible, so let me know if I should change anything!
▪︎this is planned for newer players, and maybe some players with a bit of experience
EDIT: I've realized that I made a post about an earlier draft of this campaign, so... go check that out if you wanna lmao
#dnd#dnd campaign#dungeons and dragons#dice#writing#planning#ideas#homebrew#help#death#oh and other characters from a previous campaign that I wrote will be appearing because I know that theyre enjoyable characters and its eas
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
YOO THAT KEYBOARD IS SICK
also to add onto the first post
line break cus,, ... i may have went on a rant, sozz but it's not worth deleting the past few minutes.
i wish i was more than the stereotype, but currently i'm not. i have a partner! i have friends! i'm not helpful to capitalism!! which is a really fucking good thing for my moral compass, right now and forever!
... but i also wish i was more than that. i wish i had a job that i liked, i wish i got paid for work that i enjoyed, i wish money didn't exist so i could just work for fun instead of being forced to to exist, to live, to love and to enjoy existence. but since that isn't happening, i have to push myself to work for capitalism.
sure i'll work for society, that's not a problem i have. i just don't want to work for a system i refute. i'll work retail cus i like clothes. i'll work bookstores or libraries cus i like physical media, so so much. hell, i'll work in food service if i have to, just so i can work in a place i genuinely enjoy the food of - not for the discount, but for the process of making and/or selling it. the learnt experience of knowing how to do something i love the result of, meaning i can get that result if i want whenever i want. i just don't want to work for capitalism. for the sake of needing money.
i don't have all that many hobbies. sure, i can say i watch videos online, usually video essays; i play idle or incremental games on average, but sometimes switch it up with a little puzzle game or something with friends like terraria or whatnot; i talk to people online, these are all "hobbies" because they're activities i enjoy doing. but none of them are particularily crafty. and i *want* to do crafty. girl wants to use mage hand to build lego shit, girl wants to build wooden shit too, girl wants to learn how to draw, how to model and rig, hell how to model for cameras and rig for my gf (and maybe full polycule). there's so much i want to do on a more intense and in-depth level, and so much i want to start doing/get better at doing, stuff i want to make into hobbies! but i can't, cus i'm forced into the workforce. i'm forced into labour roles, into positions i don't like - and not because they're out of my comfort zone, but that they shouldn't be anyone's comfort zone - and that's supposed to be a "good" thing?? that's supposed to be a "healthy member for society"??? if it's healthy, why is everyone in this type of position depressed or anxious? fun fact: it's not because they're trans, because this issue is actually a generalised one, but to focus on trans people specifically is mandatory for this decade's social justice thing, so if it's not because they're trans, what is it? hm? what makes us, that want to enjoy jobs but are forced to work jobs, upset and unable to be happy about said jobs?
god this was such a rant and i'm sorry for anyone who decided to read it. god i'm sorry for infodumping on yall, it's not cause pain meds are fucking me up cus i'm hella sure they're doing fuckall anyway, it's cus i'm just pissed that i can't do anything, for myself or for society either around me or as a whole.
long story short, i'm pissed. but i still need a job. and once i get it, and once i get out of the environment that's forcing me to get a job so i can live happily, then i can start having productive hobbies. then i can feel ready to move out of this house, and into either one on my own, or one with friends or partners. something, anything, but the right now.
i'm ready to move on. emotionally, mentally, physically, i am ready.
it all comes down to motivation. not the reasons behind things, that's what readiness is. that's what i've explained up above. motivation is the drive. the urge, the want, the passion, the push off of the cliff into the great unknown.
i'm ready to get pushed. i have my wings ready.
when will that push come? soon. as soon as it wants to rear its ugly head. and there's no better time to show one's true face than right now.
have a nice day, be kind to yourself, and find what motivates you. don't let go of it, cus you don't want to know how hard it is to get it back. seeya.
the “trans people are all useless jobless sensitive losers who contribute nothing to society. get a hobby smh” stereotype is funny to me because, in my experience, trans people love nothing more than their little hobbies. that should be the stereotype. these fucking trans people won’t stop crocheting scarves and programming video games and learning how to make swords and weaving baskets out of plastic bags. half the time when i text a trans person they’re like “sorry for the late reply i was building a mechanical keyboard from scratch”
31K notes
·
View notes
Text
Right
I thought this was over but then i saw it pop up in my notifications again and truly had a face crack moment
Because that's all you give by leaving these kinds of comments. A very sad and empty feeling in my chest that makes me want to scream. Of course, it doesn't help that the comment was left on a fic where these were literally all the comments before it
(The last one i cut off because it just was a suggestion of where the story should go)
Now, i removed the urls bc i do not have anything against these people. It's not about them. This type of stuff shows up in almost every fic of mine.
And yes, obviously I appreciate the thought behind the fact someone wants to read more of my writing but I also cannot stop the feeling of how little the work i actually have put out is valued.
Maybe it is a short fic of not even a thousand words (although I have also gotten these demands on fics reaching 15k in word count) but it still takes time and effort and energy. Especially with requests, its difficult to write something you know another person has thought of, has expectations for... There is always doubt in my mind when I post a request that I failed the person who wanted the story because it's not what they expected. It's nervewrecking. So yeah, seeing people enjoy the story and wanting more definitely dissipates that constant worry But (there's always a but y'all)
A writer has their own ideas of how a story should go. Even if its a request, you get to interpret that in your own way (previously mentioned anxieties follow up later) and hopefully those interpretations will be appreciated. That includes the plot. And the plot includes, you guessed it, a beginning and an ending.
As the writer, I decide when and how the story ends.
By getting comments such as the ones I put above, I just get constant reminders shot in my face that no one really cares. Not just about me- hell, i dont care about myself- but about writers in general. No one cares about the actual creativity of the writing or the processes. Yall just want your free content, which is understandable in this economy, and then move on.
I could blame this on the Story Time/Like for Part Two internet culture and maybe I am. Hopefully you can see the comparison, especially with how on Tiktok all content constantly seems to be accumulating into series and parts and just never ending. All a person has to do is comment "pt 2 pls" and like it and done.
Just consider that, you get to enjoy something that is given to you completely for free, no questions asked. So why dont you actually enjoy it? Why does there have to always be more? (And if so, why cant the "more" be the already existing catalogues of the writers on here? Or did you skim through all that already -sorry im getting pissed off now, sleep deprivation)
Anyway, i'm tired and dont make any sense. Besides, i cant and wont police people around on here. read the stuff you want, comment all you want, but dont forget that the people writing the stories you like are also human with their own ideas and emotions. Not machines who can print out words at any given command.
#didnt even get into that i have specified on several occasions that i dont take requests through comments#or that i dont do part 2#or how some of these comments dont ask just Expect there to be more#like no sir#z rants#writing
168 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gilded City- Part Two
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem! Reader (Batman in there too hehe)
Rating: Pretty PG !!
Warnings: Mention of a strip club, implied sexual harassment in the workplace, overall pretty fluffy though
Word count: 2,596
A/n: hey everyoneee 😏 excited for yall to read this insanely long chapter (bc I got carried away). It's a lot of cute shit with the one and only babygirl Brucie pookie (I regret typing that.) Anyways enjoy!!!!
≿━━━━༺🦇༻━━━━≾
The concept of darkness wasn’t a frightening one. Not to me. Not when I’ve lived like this for so long; embracing the unknown, living comfortably with fear. Darkness was a reality.
I woke up enveloped in darkness.
I remember the heavy shroud of black that anesthetized me before, but opening my eyes to the same darkness was unexpected.
Strangely enough, I still didn’t feel afraid.
I felt the reeling delay of movement and my head spun. I groaned, but it reverberated in my head and I felt much worse. I finally creaked open my eyes to see that I wasn’t walking, but getting carried.
A sudden fear paralyzed my body as I began to recall what happened before I blacked out. One of them kidnapped me.
I tried to focus my cloudy eyes, wincing at the sensation of my pulse hammering in my ears. I mustered up enough strength to move my arm up to push his face and hopefully cause him to stagger so I could run.
Wait, what was that?
I squinted, craning my neck to look up and find that the strange material I felt was the vinyl-esque material of a mask.
The pieces didn’t click for a long while. My eyes were still focusing and unfocusing like a broken digital camera trying to process the image in front of me.
There was a silence before he sharply inhaled, his lips pressed into a line, and looked me in the eyes.
With a slow exhale, he blinked a couple times like there were tears in his eyes. Haint blue eyes looked down at me. They were the saddest eyes I’ve ever looked into, yet they filled my senses with deep solace. A warm breeze blowing through the ancient porches of the South. A lonely mourning dove crying out in the pastel, temperate mornings of a better place.
With the softest, most gentle eyes, he placed me down even more gently onto an impossibly soft surface I realized was my bed. I felt I was losing consciousness again, but I fought it. I wanted him to stay with me forever. I hadn’t felt safe since I moved to Gotham, but he made me feel vindicated. My salvation.
Slowly, he slid his hands out from under me and turned to become one with the shadows of my apartment, fading into nothingness just as he’d appeared.
I reached a shaky hand out towards him.
“Wait.” I whispered, noticing white bandages littering my arm.
He paused briefly, turning his head to look at me but not his eyes.
He was silent for what seemed like an eternity.
“Stay.” I pleaded under my breath.
He shook his head and I noticed his body tense like he was restraining himself from moving. His fists were balled, shaking angrily.
Finally, his hands opened up and he breathed deeply.
He looked at me with those sad eyes again, this time filled with remorse.
They spoke for him. “You know I can’t do that. You don’t know who I am, what I’ve done.”
“Will I see you again?” I asked foolishly. I knew the answer.
All he did was shake his head bittersweetly.
“I hope not,” he murmured.
And with that, my angel flew away.
—
His voice was absolutely irresistible. Rich and smooth like the finest cognac, but it burned your throat all the same. It was weathered, husky. Dark red velvet; the heaviest, thickest curtains blocking out the piercing, blazing light of Arizona. Or maybe the endless torrent of rain that Gotham eternally seemed to sport. A safeguard against the harsh, loud world outside.
I couldn’t get enough.
I thought about him a lot over the weekend as I tended to my wounds. The violence that happened to me was almost a memory thanks to whatever magic he worked. I wasn’t convinced it wasn’t all just a dream. He appeared and disappeared like a true shadow, just like the legends- the rumors.
But he’s a man. He’s real. I know that now. To a criminal, of course he’d seem like a wraith that silently kills in its wake. Somehow, that wasn’t the same Batman I met in my room that night.
I want to say that my questions are answered now that I’ve interacted with him. But that would be a lie. In fact, I have more questions now than I started off with.
Why did he save me? Chasing the scum is one thing, but to aid the victim is something else in its entirety. There were rumors he gave up on being “vengeance”. Maybe this is what he meant; to have a heart.
By the following Friday, I was feeling well enough to walk around my house almost like normal. Looking at the barren state of my fridge, I decided I needed to go grocery shopping whether I liked it or not.
Around 12 pm, I stepped out into the cloudy day, waving down a taxi to get to the produce store easier. I couldn’t walk the whole way, and I knew not to get cocky lest I broke something else.
—
“Have a good day honey!” The sweet auntie smiled after ringing up my groceries.
I shot her a quick smile in response, heading next door to the chinese bakery to get a quick lunch.
It was relatively empty for midday, but I jumped on the opportunity to get two fresh BBQ pork buns. The man behind me in line seemed relatively familiar, but I didn’t recognize him until the cashier took the name for his order.
“Sorry, just a couple more minutes, okay?” The chef leaned over the counter with an apologetic smile, snapping me out of my shock.
“Yeah, no worries!” I reassured her, trying to ground myself as the man stood a polite distance away from me also waiting for some buns.
I must have been obvious in my shock, as I heard a quiet chuckle next to me.
“You know, out of all the bakeries I’ve been to in Gotham, this place has the best pork buns.” He spoke lightheartedly.
I nodded, looking at his face with furrowed brows to confirm to myself that this was, in fact, who I thought it was.
Dressed casually in a grey layered sweater and black jeans, it was hard to believe I wasn’t dreaming again.
“Yeah, they’re great. Especially when they’re fresh.” I stammered.
“Worth the wait huh?” He cocked his head at me.
“One hundred percent.” I smiled back, feeling a little less awkward.
“I’m Bruce.” He extended a hand casually.
I shook his hand, momentarily getting lost in the feeling of his cool grip before remembering to introduce myself too.
“Bruce, and…” The chef struggled to read the cashier’s handwriting of my name on the ticket.
“Thank you.” I responded, sporting her a forgiving smile.
I heard Mr. Wayne give his thanks to the cashier, and I prepared to wrangle all my bags for the taxi ride home.
“Do you need any help carrying those?” He asked softly.
“I’m alright, thanks.” I laughed, flustered. “I’m taking the cab home, so it’ll just be a battle getting all my stuff in one of those little things.”
“Ah,” he nodded, pursing his lips. He then paused to think for a second.
“If it’s alright with you, I could drive you.”
The proposal had my eyes bulging out of their sockets.
“Of course, I understand if you don’t want to,” He quickly interjected. “Gotham’s not a safe city by far.” He looked away, a hard expression on his face.
“My car’s a little bigger than a cab, though.” He joked, seemingly pushing himself out of the headspace he entered.
“I- yeah, um…” I shook my head, trying to comprehend the situation. There was no way this was happening to me.
“Sure,” I sighed. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”
He looked down at me, hints of genuine surprise in his eyes.
Such pretty eyes. The fluorescents did them no justice.
“I’m not parked too far from here,” He spoke in that quiet way of his.
He took the grocery bags from me before I had any time to protest, and began to walk outside, holding the door for me as we left the bakery.
I stepped wrong on my injured leg and had to limp a little right before getting to his car, and he looked at my leg with a strange expression. His eyes flicked to the white bandage peeking out of my sleeve and then back to my leg. The expression was mostly sadness, but I saw fragments of regret and guilt in his eyes.
For a second, I thought I saw those same sad eyes that I’d been thinking about all week.
Popping open the trunk, he placed both of the bags in the back of the car.
I opened the passenger door and sat down, buckling myself in as the intrusive thoughts seeped into the forefront of my mind. I wondered if this was the last time anyone saw me. I just got into a stranger’s car, no questions asked, with the justification that he was driving me home and he was famous. Maybe also because he was good-looking.
Something was seriously wrong with me.
Before I could overthink any more, he stepped into the car and turned the key.
Soft music started playing, and I quickly recognized it as Depeche Mode. I couldn’t help but smile a little, knowing a literal millionaire liked the same group I did.
“I used to have a motorcycle,” he hesitantly said after pulling out of the parking space.
“I ended up getting rid of it.” He finished after a pause.
I nodded.
“Always good to change things up.” I responded politely. He was trying his best to keep small talk going, but it wasn’t working. Poor guy, he probably hasn’t spoken extensively to a civilian, like, ever.
“Which way are we headed?” He looked at me ruefully.
“Ah, right.” I totally forgot he was taking me home. “You can drop me off at the strip club next to the karaoke bar. I live close by.” I auto-piloted the answer, forgetting that not everyone knew where I worked.
My face slowly heated up as I realized and I struggled to explain myself.
“It’s just a big landmark, you know? Not like I go there or anything, I just…” I sighed.
“Wow, I really wish I’d have chosen anywhere else.”
I saw the corners of his mouth turn up in almost a smile in my peripheral vision, and my face heated even more somehow.
“No worries, I get what you mean.” He responded.
A silence ensued, shifting from awkward to comfortable, as Policy of Truth played softly in the background.
“Never again is what you swore the time before,” I softly sang, tapping my fingers on my leg to the beat.
“You know this song?” He asked, turning his head to look at me briefly.
“Yeah,” I laughed. “They were one of my dad’s favorite groups.”
“Good taste.” He responded simply.
The rest of the ride was a comfortable silence. I still couldn’t believe I was being driven home by Bruce Fucking Wayne.
He’d gotten more involved in society recently, no doubt trying to fix that broken reputation of his. The news never spoke of him except to call him a shut-in. They described him like a traitor; one of Gotham’s biggest failures. No wonder he tries so hard these days. Who knows, maybe him driving me home was all a really well thought out publicity stunt.
Everything in the news got amplified when the Edward Nashton fiasco was at its peak a couple months ago. They call him The Riddler. Sure, the guy’s in jail now, but the damage he did impacts us still.
They only got the city fully de-flooded a couple weeks ago. Socially, of course, the impact was even more profound. He created an army of people who thought they could kill the Batman. The message of reforming the city got lost, of course. People want an excuse for violence and now that they have a target, it makes it so easy for them.
It had to be hard for Bruce, too. Being excluded and looked down upon if at all from everyone to suddenly being thrown into the public eye must have given him whiplash. The Riddler targeting him in his attacks was simultaneously the best and worst thing that happened to his career. I guess not much changed, though. To everyone in this city, he was a sob story before and he still is now.
I was snapped out of my thoughts as I felt the car stop a little ways away from my workplace.
He didn’t look over at me for a minute, hands still on the wheel, blinking quickly as if he was trying to figure out what to say. I decided for him.
“Thank you a lot, Bruce. Truly.” I smiled at him.
“My pleasure.” He awkwardly smiled back like he’d forgotten how.
We were quiet, just looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. His forced smile melted into a genuine grin. He sharply inhaled, breaking the silence.
“Right, let me help you get your bags.” He popped the trunk, then stepped out of the car; I followed suit.
Wordlessly, he handed me my groceries and pork buns.
“I guess,” I hesitated, looking away for a moment. “I’ll see you around?”
“Probably.” He simply stated. “I hope so, anyway.”
I couldn’t help but smile up at him. This had to be a dream.
“Thanks again.” I spoke softly.
“Of course. Get well soon.” He ended the sentence with my name, then got into his car.
I started to walk away at a brisk pace, eyes slowly widening as I realized he said my name.
Bruce Wayne remembered me.
Suddenly, the cold weather wasn’t a problem for me anymore. I was as hot as an oven with a fever, walking as quickly as I could to my apartment.
Shutting the door behind me, a wide grin broke out on my face and I practically skipped to my fridge to shelve my groceries. Replaying various moments of my afternoon, I giggled like a maniac and tried to remind myself that he was a stranger to me, and treated me with regular levels of politeness.
“Get a grip!” I spoke out loud, shaking my head. I was disappointed in myself for thinking about him like this. “No more thinking about Bruce Wayne.”
—
I spent the rest of the day thinking about him, so that wasn’t helpful.
I sat in bed with a cup of tea and reviewed the text I was about to send to one of the girls I worked with.
“Hey, just wanted to tell you I’m coming back to work Monday. If you’re working over the weekend, can you tell Joey? I tried texting him but got no response.”
The last part was a lie, I never texted my boss. He always took my texts as invitations to come over and “help relax my muscles”. I never let him, thank God.
I pressed send, knowing she wouldn’t respond until the morning if she was working.
Laying in my bed after finishing my tea, I realized just how tired I was, and went to sleep almost immediately.
I dreamed about the Batman, as I do most nights, but this time Bruce was there too. Two incredible men I didn’t deserve and barely knew I existed were taking care of me like I meant something to them.
Only in my dreams.
≿━━━━༺🦇༻━━━━≾
Be sure to comment ur thoughts on this, I love reading what you guys think abt my work ♡ (reblogs n likes r appreciated too)
#bruce wayne x reader#pattinson!batman#pattinson!bruce wayne#pattinson!batman x reader#batman x reader#the batman
47 notes
·
View notes