#but fun to write n explore

[jesuistrestriste]

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so ! this happened !

nsfw solo!art. hoping to finish it tn and post tomorrow evening !! <33

art is very sad n angsty n hopeless in this. what can i say? i love a loser.

(also i’m still writing this rn so i will probs have to add more cw before it’s posted)

<3 UPDATE : posted !

[atrovel]

i’m probably going to delete this if anyone wants to get into an argument, because i know i’m not going to respond well to it, but i’ve been thinking about discourse over Rocky Horror and transmisogyny and i want to voice my opinion.

if Rocky were made today, people would be horrified, and that’s obvious. but it wasn’t, and i think it’s important to consider the context of the time it was made. everybody says this– terminology and representation is going to be outdated. that’s to be expected. but i feel there’s so much more to it than that, and people that find Rocky Horror’s messages to be transphobic didn’t understand it. 

at its core, Rocky Horror is a movie about movies. Brad and Janet are blatant and obvious stereotypes of the lead and love interest in a lot of movies at the time. Brad is a strong, protective family man, and Janet is a damsel in distress who faints a lot. the Transylvanians are an extreme opposite, but they’re also stereotypes– of how queer people were represented in a lot of media at the time. that’s the point.  Dr. Frank-N-Furter is a reflection of how queer people were seen and represented at the time. he’s a stereotype cranked up to eleven, to the point it’s absurd, as obvious parody. the entirety of Rocky Horror is made to parody tropes and stereotypes; that’s what it’s about. the character of Dr. Frank isn’t made to make fun of queer people, but instead to make fun of the trope of villains being aggressively queer-coded compared to heroes in movies at the time.

i do absolutely acknowledge that Rocky Horror’s intent wasn’t and isn’t typically clear to a lot of people, and it can cause harm, but many people interpret it as exactly what it’s clearly making fun of, which is disappointing.

i think the reason Rocky can easily be seen as controversial or bad representation is that it was never intended to be for straight people. this movie is made for lgbtq and ‘unconventional’ people to say “if this is how people are going to see us, then let them” which really resonates with my queer identity. straight people & conservatives are never going to love us like we love each other, so why bother trying to change their minds instead of just embracing it? even though, again, Rocky Horror is outdated, this is a message that is still really relevant today which is why it’s so frustrating to me that so many people take it at face value when it’s blatant parody.

all this being said, if you personally don’t like Rocky Horror because it doesn’t resonate with your experience as a queer person, that’s perfectly fine, and i hold absolutely nothing against you for that. but Rocky has been a safe space for so many queer people for so many years and i think holding genuine anger toward its fans is completely ridiculous. i hope all these words make enough sense, and please be kind! thank you

[auriidae]

the amount of em dashes i use when writing ethubs is frankly embarrassing

[llumimoon]

@kaseyskat and I have been scheming up this AU since April and the latest episode gave the both of us massive brainworms so we're finally posting about it!!

Welcome to the Perfectly Regular AU <3 It's Scary and Normal centric and takes place shortly after the Hell Arc, it diverges from canon when Scary rejoins the teen's side and Willy decides she's a lost cause, causing him to shift gears into a different plan. Scary notices that Normal's been acting really weird lately- and what's this about homunculi?

Nyx has written the first installment of the AU here please go check it out!! :D

edit: here's part two btw <3

[lale-txt]

now that i put my Akaashi fic on semi-hiatus my brain keeps begging me to write more Kuroo and i’m afraid i might give in to that

[clowningaroundmars]

previously:

Here, the Doctor leaps over to the side, narrowly avoiding a fist to the jaw and swinging 42’s still unconscious body into the air… letting him tumble over the ledge.

"Catch!" He announces brazenly.

42 falls down, down, down.

Gwen watches in horror.

here we are you guys!!! the final chapter! are you guys ready? :)

don't worry, i won't play with your guys' hearts for too long! well. i mean

oh yeah, and remember that death tw on chapter 1? well yeah. no gory details ofc but just mind the warning

anyways, enjoy! :D it's the final stretch

<< part 4 of 4

Doc Ock cackles gleefully as he watches 42’s body tumble into the air and down onto the concrete parking lot several stories below.

With one last burst of rage-filled strength, Gwen football-tackles him over the ledge while his guard is down, sending all three of them sailing through the cool night air.

Doc Ock clearly doesn’t expect this, if his screaming was anything to go by.

But Gwen wasn’t concerned at all with his idiotic cries, she was a woman on a mission and by god if she wasn’t going to complete it!

If she failed two of her friends and directly lead to both of their demises, then what the hell was she wearing the mask for?

No, this ends now.

She quickly grabs Doc Ock by the back of his neck and grips onto another one of his tentacles as they fall through the air, ripping it straight out of the node on his spinal cord with all of her might.

“N-no-- don’t!! AAAAAAAAAUGHH!!”

The Doctor’s soul-wrenching yowl of pain might’ve made Gwen feel a little bad… under normal circumstances. But at the moment, her every bit of focus was pointed towards Miles-42 like a compass pointing True North, and she wasn’t letting him out of her sight now.

Making split-second calculations, she kicked the Doctor’s body off of her and used the tentacle’s technological properties as a last-ditch effort to hook herself onto a nearby streetlamp, swinging her entire body’s weight with a loud grunt of effort.

She intercepted Miles’ flailing body in mid-air and succeeded in grabbing a hold of him, swinging down onto the ground safely and falling onto the concrete. She crashed onto her knees and rolled over a few times, clutching 42's head protectively all the way down.

The Doctor… didn’t make it.

With a sickening crunch and splatter, he was a disgusting mess of red, wet garbage on the concrete. His tentacles weren't long enough to reach back up to ledge of the building and his slower reflexes caused him to miss the streetlamp entirely.

His remaining tentacles laid next to him just as limp and as dead as he was.

Well, shit. That was gonna be a nasty surprise for the paramedics to find later on, huh.

Gwen sighed with relief as she laid her head back down and took a minute to catch her breath.

What a day. She wanted this to be completely over now, but… she knew that despite this small moment of relief, she wasn’t quite out of the woods yet. Literally.

But also…

“Miles,” she grunts with effort, every muscle in her body crying out as she pushes herself off of her elbows to sit up.

Miles-42 is laid across her lap now and showing zero signs of waking up anytime soon. Gwen’s heart started kicking into overdrive again, and she held him in her hands…

Just like you held Peter… after killing him, an evil little voice sneered at her from the back of her mind.

“Peter? Peter, oh god. What did you do?!” Gwen sobbed, excavating her beloved friend from the rubble of her school’s gymnasium.

He wasn’t gonna make it… oh god, he really wasn’t going to make it. The poor boy could barely open his eyes, and his bloody, beaten face was something that was going to haunt her in her nightmares forever.

It was etched into the back of her mind, the back of her damn eyelids, especially when to her delight-- or horror, it was hard to tell in the moment-- he managed to crack open his swollen eyes and look directly into hers.

“Gw-- Gwen…” he coughed, weakly.

Gwen continued to cry. “No no no no no, no, no! What did you do!? Why?!” She pleaded, wanting any answer, anything to hold onto.

“I… I wanted to be special. Like you,” he managed, even weaker than before.

Gwen knew it. She could feel the thready pulse of his heartbeat growing weaker and weaker with every passing second, and time was running out.

But she still held on.

“… Peter?” She sucked in a breath.

“Peter?”

“Peter?!”

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“Miles?!”

Gwen sobbed once more, clutching yet another beloved friend in her arms, in a position eerily similar to that fateful night. “Miles!”

All of the feelings she felt the night that her best friend had died came crashing back down and flooding into her chest like a tsunami.

She sniffled angrily, ripping her mask off of her face and working to pry Miles’ mask off of his own face, too.

... Damn it! What the hell was this stupid thing made out of?!

She didn’t want to break his tech, as complicated and extremely well-made as it was. She knew it was valuable and expensive to make, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

She needed to see if he was still possibly alive, if he could give her a sign or something, and she wasn’t going to be able to do it with this stupid mask in the way!

She didn’t trust her shaking hands to be able to read his pulse in this state… she needed to see his face.

After a couple of minutes of careful jabbing and prying, Gwen was finally frustrated enough to just slide Miles right off of her lap and pry the whole thing off of his face with one firm pull.

She managed to do so without injuring him even more, and immediately got to checking the color of his lips in the low lighting of the near-empty parking lot. She fussed over him, sniffling and wiping her tears all the while.

It seemed like his bleeding stopped for now at least, but that was without even knowing how much he had lost in the first place.

“Miles… Miles?! Please,” she begged as she held him in her arms once more. “Answer me, please! Let me know you’re still alive, anything! Wiggle your eyebrows or…” she sniffled, “I… I don’t know but god, please, anything!”

What the hell did Doc Ock even do to this kid anyways?

She examined his face once more through the tears in her eyes and noticed a new injury that looked relatively fresh, still bleeding somewhere from his temple.

Maybe he knocked Miles out for a longer time in his mad dash to the roof… and if that was true… he really, really could be dead.

Miles-42 wasn’t a superpowered being like the rest of the Spider Band, he was a regular kid with cool gadgets and intense at-home training, but a regular kid nonetheless. Gwen could recover from a hard head injury herself just fine, all she would have to do is just sleep the pain off.

But Miles…

Miserably, Gwen sunk down even lower to the ground and sobbed her eyes out, tears wetting her face and staining the spray-painted Prowler logo on Miles’ shirt.

She stays like this, clutching onto the limp body of someone she would’ve been happy to call her friend-- especially after all they’ve been through today-- and now he won’t even live to see the fruits of his labor.

Fuck.

Gwen’s wandering thoughts takes her over to his uncle Aaron’s face, how he was going to react to the news of his nephew’s untimely and unfortunate death.

Gwen thought about Rio and… well, she cried even harder.

But she didn’t get to finish because… Miles then stirred a bit, his breathing speeding up a bit before he laid his head back and sighed softly.

Gwen stopped crying. She was shocked, staring back into his blank face with wide, teary eyes.

… Was it her imagination, then? Did she want Miles to be alive so badly that she convinced herself that he moved a bit while she wept?

No. No, she’s got to suck it up, stop letting her emotions get the best of her and give it a real try this time.

Steadying her breathing and wiping the snot from her nose, she brushes her hair back from her face and turns Miles’ face towards a nearby streetlamp that casts down a cold, white light onto the scene.

With gentle fingers, she lifts up one of his eyelids, then his other eyelid, and then finally bends down to listen to his chest as closely as she can.

She hears a heartbeat, though not so loudly underneath all of the gear he wears, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

Miles really stirs this time, groaning and sucking in a breath as he slowly comes back online.

Gwen laughs wetly, wiping more of her tears and boogers and sadness away, only tears of joy left brimming in her eyes.

“Miles! Oh my god, you’re alive… you’re alive! You made it!” She announces gleefully, giving him a happy little squeeze.

“Ow,” Miles answers hoarsely, squinting in the harsh, cold light of the streetlamp overhead and coughing a bit.

“S-sorry, sorry. I’m just. Well, y’know pretty excited that you’re alive. I thought that you were actually dead for a minute there, bud! You really gave me a scare!” She laughs and sniffles.

Miles finally cracks an eye open long enough to exhale a bit and lay his head back down.

“Uhhh… who are you again?” He mumbles, and Gwen’s heart sinks.

Oh no.

“What? Uh, i-it’s me, Gwen! Y’know, the girl who you’ve been fighting to escape this horrible building with this whole night? Oh no… is your head injury that bad?” She frets.

Miles then cracks a smile, not quite being able to laugh but getting pretty damn close to doing so.

“Gwendy, relax. I know who you are. Joke,” he explained, and it earned him another head bump from being promptly dropped right back onto the hard ground.

“Ow,” he complained.

“You are a dick,” Gwen replied, folding her arms over her chest. She didn’t stop smiling through her tears, though.

“Were you crying over me? Oh my god, you were totally crying,” Miles says with a smile, not making any movements to get up at all.

Gwen unfolds her aching legs from underneath her and stands up on her knees. “Shut up. Stop talking. You’ve sustained a critical brain injury and you need to not make stupid decisions before we get you out of here, alright?”

Miles chuckles quietly. “Mmnyeah, true. Lemme keep my mouth shut.”

He wasn’t slurring his speech or confusing her for another person, so that was a good sign.

He wasn’t moving any of his limbs, though. So… that was possibly a bad sign.

“Can you, uh,” Gwen starts, glancing all around her as she fully stands up, “can you walk? Or sit up? I can carry you, but I need to know that you’re not paralyzed from the neck down first. I don’t wanna risk any more injuries, y’know?”

Miles wiggles his feet and flexes his hands inside of his gauntlets for a bit before laying back down and sighing again.

“Yeah, I can move my limbs. I don’t think anything’s broken… except for this massive fuckin’ migraine I got goin’ on right now. Just, uhm. Just gimme a minute.”

Gwen continues looking over her shoulder. The blades of a chopper are vibrating through the air several miles away but it’s gaining speed quickly, and steadily getting closer.

“Okay, you might wanna hurry up on that, because we’ve got company coming and we still need to get the hell out of here,”

Miles blinks on the ground for a few more seconds, gears very obviously turning in his head as he does.

After a few seconds, he says, “okay. Help me up, then. Slowly,”

It takes them several more minutes of pained grunting and a slow ascent up to get Miles standing again, but once they’re both steady on their feet, they get a move on.

Gwen has one of his arms over her shoulder, steadying him and carrying some of his weight.

“Wait,” Miles says suddenly, just as they’re rounding a corner of the building where several guards and scientists are still milling around. There are a few big white buses parked close by, most likely hired to transport the personnel away from the facility. Some are already sat inside.

Gwen ducks back around the corner and takes a peek at the scene before turning her attention back to her friend.

“Shit, you’re right. There’s a lot of people out there, most likely waiting for Octavius or something. We’ve gotta find a way too book it out of here undetected, though…”

“Mh, yep,” Miles grunts, sucking in air through his teeth for a second. “Ow, sorry. My head’s killin’ me… which kinda sucks, ‘cause my escape plan was to just hot-wire a car and hightail it outta here.”

Gwen laughed incredulously. “Oh my god. That was your grand escape plan this whole time?” She shakes her head. “In every single universe… Miles Morales is the exact same dork I always hate to love,”

“Psshhyeah right, hate to love. You’re not foolin’ me,” Miles smirks at her exasperated expression.

Gwen rolls her eyes and instructs Miles to lean against the wall and stay put while she goes to search for a viable vehicle they could steal.

“Cool. Good luck. I definitely won’t die,” Miles informs her, which just makes her roll her eyes again before bounding away.

Time for some espionage, Gwen thinks to herself as she skirts the outer edges of the parking lot and tries to avoid being seen by the several other armed personnel still waiting around to receive confirmation that they can now depart.

After a little bit, a few ambulance trucks pull up with flashing red lights and the paramedics jump out, which actually gives her some relief. The professionals were on the job now, everything was taken care of; they also served as a perfect distraction from what she was doing…

Which was looping around the entire building’s perimeter and seeing which car was left unattended and unlocked.

She really didn’t want to have to break any windows, especially because she needed to keep as quiet as possible since she still needed to go back and fetch Miles… but if all options were exhausted…

Bingo!

She eventually came across a parked Ford F-250 near a line of trees located just behind all of the ambulances and the commotion. It was unlocked (haha, sucker!) and was perfectly empty, ready for the taking.

Gwen couldn’t believe that despite failure after failure plaguing her on this day, her luck finally turned around at the last minute… what a relief!

Overhead, the chopper finally reached its destination, drowning out every sound around them with its spinning blades as it slowly lowered itself down onto the helipad located at the top of the building. Leaves were whipped violently into the air, trees swayed and shook with the force of the winds.

Gwen rejoiced again at the added distraction that would surely help with her sweet escape.

The helicopter crew wouldn't find much waiting for them up there, save for the unconscious bodies of several brutally-beaten henchmen, of course.

She fetched her friend who was now sitting with his knees tucked up under his chin against the wall, and together they limped their way back to the truck and climbed in.

Once inside, they successfully hot-wired it using Miles’ gadgets. Then Miles went to climb out of the driver’s seat.

“Uhh wait, huh. Where’re you going?” Gwen asks from the passenger seat.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? You’re driving. Hop in.” Miles groans as he lowers himself from the high-as-hell cab, clutching at his side.

Gwen titters nervously. “Ohhh, no, no I’m not! I don’t even have my license yet, I can’t drive!”

Miles takes his sweet time painstakingly climbing into the back seat of the truck. He shirks his pack off, throws it onto the floor of the cab, and stretches himself out over the seats to lay down.

“Yep, I don’t have my license either, girl, you don’t see me chickening out when I’m picked to be the getaway driver!” He remarks, once comfortable.

Gwen huffs in annoyance, leaping over to the driver’s side and locking all of the doors once she makes sure they’re shut tight.

“Dude, forreal! I have no clue how to operate a truck like this! The gear shift isn’t even in the right place,” she complains.

Miles cracks one eye open. “Please tell me your dimension doesn’t have y’all driving on the left side of the road…”

Gwen huffs again. “No, I'm not British, Miles. I meant… this looks pretty high-tech for me and… what do all of these buttons even do? …Is this a touch screen?”

“Gwen, seriously, I get that this is a brand new experience for you but listen: there are like, no laws in this dimension. Literally not even kidding. Just pull up the GPS on that touch screen, punch in my address and we can get going. Left pedal’s gas, right pedal’s the brakes.”

She hesitated, but... there was no arguing with that! Who was Gwen to make decisions in a dimension she wasn’t even a part of, really? If Miles told her that his dimension ignored all traffic laws, well… then, when in Rome, right?

And besides, who else was getting them both to safety if not her? She needed to suck it up before they were noticed by any personnel sweeping the area, or before any cops showed up.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“Well,” Gwen said nervously, both hands on the wheel and her eyes directly on the road in front of her, “bon voyage, then! Let’s pray I don’t get the both of us killed,”

“Vamos con dios,” Miles mumbled, an arm draped over his eyes. He quickly lost consciousness once again.

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About half an hour into their drive (which-- aside from terrible braking every now and then-- was admittedly pretty smooth, all things considered), Gwen pulls over to a greasy 24-hour fast food place that seemed to serve all of the shittiest, unhealthiest food ever invented under the sun.

She woke Miles up and asked him what his order would be, borrowed his jacket to cover up her unique costume’s design, and ducked inside.

She was surprised to see Miles up and sitting in the truck bed when she returned with their food, legs swinging like he hadn’t just gotten injured helping her fight a menacing four-armed madman not even an hour and a half ago.

He looked the worse for wear, braids frizzed out as they hung right over his shoulders like they usually did, but he was more alert now than he had been before. He looked fine, given the circumstances.

They sat side-by-side, gazing up at what scarce stars there were out in the early morning sky, the edges of the horizon peeking a slight blush of pink through the trees.

Gwen scarfed down her triple bacon burger and inhaled her large fries, only stopping every once in a while to take a sip of her extra-large milkshake.

A mildly amused Miles enjoyed his own fries and meatball sub in companionable silence.

“Feelin’ better?” Gwen asks, still munching on the last bit of her burger, which has now thoroughly stained the lap of her costume with grease.

Miles laughs, wrapping up the second half of his sandwich for later. “Yeah, a quick nap and a good meal helps a lot,”

Gwen hums in thought. “You were out for… a while. Like, back at the parking lot. I was getting real worried there, actually,” she admits.

Miles glances at her, studying her face for a second. “… How long? I mean, you were crying, so I guess it was a while,”

Gwen rolls her eyes. “Can you stop bringing the crying back up again? I just… I got scared, okay? You didn’t tell me what your grand escape plan was before you… uh, passed out, so I mean...”

Miles is skeptical. “Uh huh, the escape plan. That’s what you were worried about that whole time, right?” He ribbed her a bit, intending for it to come off light-heartedly.

The tense silence that fell in that moment made him a bit nervous, though.

Gwen looked… upset.

He backpedaled. “Uhhh, I mean. Yeah, yeah, the escape plan! The escape plan... woulda been a real shame if I croaked back there before telling you what it was. Of course.” He clears his throat awkwardly.

Gwen offers him a small smile and starts clearing the wrappings and the trash around her folded legs.

“I… uh. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this before. Well, not all of the details but. I don’t really do the whole friend thing anymore because of… I mean, I lost a friend before. And you’re Miles and-- I mean, not my Miles but the other Miles is-- was my friend, and I think we’re cool now, but when I saw you falling I just…”

Gwen sighs. “Sorry. I’m rambling. This is awkward.”

Miles leans back against the side of the truck bed, positioned in the same way that they were sitting back when they were having a bit of a heart-to-heart in the vents of Octavius’ compound. Funny how little moments like this seemed so serendipitous like that.

He studied her face again in the yellowing lights of the restaurant’s signs, thinking for a bit.

“Miles… the other Miles kind of told me some stuff. Not too many details, sure, but. Yeah,” he offered, trying to signal to her that he was down for a chat, no matter how depressing the topic got.

Not very many people in his world got to understand him on a deeper level, not even his own girlfriend. It was nice sitting next to someone who dealt with just as much trauma as him, if not more. It was... an opportunity for connection. Why not take it?

Gwen looked up at him. “Oh, you two talk about me?”

“Yeah, you’re all we talk about, your highness,” he laughs, then sobers up again. “Nah. I mean, y’know like, we talk about everybody. And he likes you, you know. So, yeah... sometimes you get brought up.”

Gwen sighs, leaning her head back against the truck bed and looking up at the stars above. “He shouldn’t, honestly. I think he can find someone from his dimension that… that’s gonna actually appreciate him, you know?” She looks back down into Miles’ eyes. “Not a self-deprecating thing, by the way. Don’t worry,”

Miles holds his hands up with an easy smile. “Not worrying,”

“Well good!” Gwen smirks. Then she shrugs. "I'm not sure it'd work out between us. That's all."

“... So about that back there… I took a look in the side mirror and uh,” he gestures to his shirt, the Prowler insignia now slightly messed up and blurred in some spots thanks to Gwen’s salty tears. "Yeah."

Gwen looks away, ashamed. “Yeah,” is all she says.

“Was your friend… a good friend?” Miles prodded a bit, trying to seem nonchalant about it.

Gwen saw right through it, even when she was purposefully avoiding looking at him. “Yeah. He was. My best friend,”

“Damn,” Miles replies. “I reminded you of him that much?”

Gwen laughs bitterly. “Don’t flatter yourself. I mean… I thought of you as my friend, which… y’know, you are, until we get to go our separate ways and forget all of this even happened. And I uh… I don’t like seeing friends get hurt. That’s all.”

Miles bobbed his head slowly, digesting this bit of information and taking a sip of his own milkshake.

"He, uhm." Gwen swallowed. "He died in my arms."

It was all she could say.

Miles winced because he understood. He really, really did.

After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. “Listen. I, uh. I wouldn’t mind calling you a friend after all of this, if you don’t mind. Like, even after we go home,” He strategically avoided eye contact with her. "We been through too much tonight to call each other strangers, right?"

Gwen smiled at him again. It was a sad smile. “Why don’t you have any friends, by the way? You seem cool. Well. When you’re not in work mode, that is.”

Miles chuckled. “Wow. Do I seem that lonely?”

Gwen shrugs. “The other Miles also tells me some things… sometimes. You just happen to come up every now and then, that’s all,” she manages as playfully as possible. She throws him a wink over her shoulder.

Miles' upper lip quirked up. “That little traitor. I’m giving him a wedgie the next time I see ‘im.”

Gwen barks out a laugh. “Good luck! He’s ten times stronger than you and he can go invisible,”

“Yep,” Miles nods to himself. “You definitely still have a crush on him.”

Gwen throws a fry at him and then they decide to finally dump their trash and continue their journey back into the city before the sun really started waking up and blinding poor Gwen, who was already learning how to drive on the fly and probably didn’t need the relentless sun rays beaming directly into her eyes while she was still at it.

They rode the rest of the way in much better spirits.

They drive past Newark, New Jersey and before Gwen knows it, they’re driving through Manhattan and reaching the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Okay okay, okay, okay okay okayokayokay,” she mutters to herself, hands firmly gripping the steering wheel and leaving slight indentations in the material. “I got this, I got this,”

Miles is now seated in the passenger seat, seatbelt firmly clicked in place. He’s leaned forward, ready to stop Gwen at any moment and pull the emergency brakes.

“Yeah, yeah, you got this, you got this! Don’t be intimidated by all the other cars around you, this ain’t our truck, remember? Everyone else is gonna be doing whatever the hell they wanna do, but don’t do anything stupid on the bridge, right? Otherwise, just keep your foot hovering over the brakes, like I told you before. Let this truck coast,”

Gwen tries her best to internalize all of his rapid-fire advice and not accidentally find herself flooring the gas by accident at the same time. She’s pretty sure her finger marks are going to be sunk into the polyurethane foam and possibly even the metal underneath forever.

She didn’t know who in the world owned this truck, but whoever he was, he was going to be real pissed off when he discovered it in the future.

Which, actually, speaking of…

“Sooo, how uh… where are we going to put this truck once we’re done with it? Should we… pull over soon, leave it in a parking lot somewhere and take the train the rest of the way?”

Miles chuckled. “Leave it? You kiddin’? This truck is basically brand new, pristine. We’re taking this straight to my uncle’s chop shop, we’re gonna take this stuff apart, sell a part here and there, keep the rest for our own gear.”

Gwen gave him a cursory glance. “Uh, your uncle has an auto shop? Huh. Dunno why that surprises me.”

“It’s not a legit business, that’s why. He only runs it as a front. We use it mostly to bring in abandoned cars, use the metals, wires and glass for our gear, other weapons we make to sell. Sometimes Aaron fixes other people’s cars and bikes for some money, though… and bribes.”

Gwen chuckles a bit. “Sounds about right. But I guess I don’t blame you guys. Gotta do what you can to… survive… right?”

She trails off as they get closer to Brooklyn's residential areas and see a rampant spike in crimes. Gwen’s Spider Sense goes off as she sees crime after crime being committed in the brand new hours of the dawn, when the sky hasn’t even finished lightening up to a nice baby blue yet.

“… I see that you guys, uhm… these New Yorkers here in this dimension are a… lively bunch, huh?” Gwen comments distractedly as she drives past someone actively committing grand theft auto.

“Yyyyep,” Miles sighs. “Home, sweet home.”

“You ever wonder what it’s like to live anywhere else in the world sometimes?”

“Only everyday. But us Morales never run from anything. So,” Miles shrugs.

Gwen gives him a fond look.

"Sure do wish I could stop some of these people, though-- wait. Is that man mugging that other guy over there?" She cranes her neck over the wheel to get a better look.

Miles grabs the wheel to keep them from veering into a line of parked cars. "How about we just keep driving, okay? Eyes on the road, girl."

Gwen laughs sheepishly. "Right! Sorry. Spiderwoman instincts."

"Yeah, trust me, I get it." Miles replies flatly. "Don't get distracted. This crime's ours to fight, not yours. Just get us home, like, alive please?"

After finally rolling up to Aaron’s garage at five in the morning, bright and early, Miles lowers himself down from the cab once again and limps over to ring the doorbell.

He presses it in a series of patterns that Gwen only vaguely recognizes before the metal garage door eventually starts rumbling open, revealing a slightly disheveled Aaron still in his PJs, but with a fly coat on as per usual, and some nice-looking Timbs. He was casually leaning against a vintage Cadillac.

He held a mug of coffee in one hand that read “WORLD’S WORST UNCLE” in bold lettering on one side.

Gwen bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“About damn time,” Aaron grumbles, scratching at his beard and pushing off of the Cadillac. “What took y’all so long?”

Miles only gives him a cursory glance before going around the front of the truck to help Gwen down from the cab and dive into the backseat to retrieve his stuff.

Aaron raises an eyebrow at her.

“Uh, hello… sir. I’m Gwen!” She responds, mostly to dispel the awkwardness that hung in the air.

Aaron eyes the truck as he paces casually towards the two teens, gaze occasionally flicking down to the purple jacket that Gwen still sported... that very clearly belonged to his nephew.

"What, uh," Aaron starts, "what... happened to you two?"

"Ah, you know. High risk life-threatening mission, the usual!" Gwen quips on auto-pilot. Her mouth moves faster than her brain does sometimes.

Miles followed Aaron’s gaze and quickly stepped in front of her, holding his pack out for him to take.

“I got it,” he informed Aaron. “All of it.”

Aaron made a noise of approval, taking the pack and examining it.

It still had a few cobwebs dangling off of it. He hummed in thought, eyeing his nephew once more.

“Sooo, we’re gonna go upstairs now, cool? I gotta clean this super awful and deep wound I got from… uh, saving Gwen here. Yeah, she was gonna be sushi if I didn’t jump in front of her. It was Doc Ock, by the way,” Miles continued, as they both made their way into the garage and towards the door in the back. “Doc Ock, that we killed, too. By the way. Mostly me, of course. But, y’know. No need to thank me or anything!”

Aaron laughs and shakes his head. "I'm tellin' Rio, kid. I am! I'm snitchin', I don't care."

"What!" Miles exclaims indignantly. "About what?!"

Aaron's shoulders are shaking. "I'm tellin' her you got another girl around now,"

Gwen laughed loudly, grabbing Miles by the back of his shirt and yanking him towards the back exit door.

“I do not! Do not call her! Bye!” Miles called out before stumbling into the landing that lead up to the elevator of his uncle’s building.

Miles apologized about his uncle in the elevator ride up, and when he opened the door to Aaron's spacious apartment, he kicked his shoes off and sighed with relief.

“Make yourself at home, by the way… mi casa es su casa, and all that,” he says nonchalantly as he peels his shirt off of his body, shedding gear on the floor all the way to the couch.

Gwen only stands by the door, jacket in hand, fiddling nervously with the material.

“I should… I should go.” She finally says after a moment of hesitation. Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. “I shouldn’t stick around if I really don’t need to--”

“Why, ‘cause of Spider Society rules?” Miles scoffs, pulling a first aid kit from under the couch and inspecting his wound. “Am I still bleeding on the side of my face, by the way?”

Gwen sighs. “No. And, no. You’ve stopped bleeding a while ago. Look…” she dumps his jacket onto the back of a computer chair and looks down at her watch. “This little adventure was very fun and all… but you got hurt because of me, and I should--”

She stops when she sees Miles’ wound. It looked nothing like she’d ever seen before on a person... and she’s seen her fair share of wounds.

The gaping… thing that Miles was inflicted with didn’t look like any wound she’d even experienced before.

It was green, still had a slight glow to it from the weird snake-like marks winding out from the center. The dried blood scabbing over didn’t bother her at all, she knew how ugly a stab wound could look most days, but the green glow…

It looked a lot like the glowing green circuits back in that power box that she destroyed at Octavius’ compound…

She gasped.

Miles looked up from his inspection and they locked eyes.

“Uhhh,” his pupils bounce around for a bit, trying to think of something to say. “It’s… it’s not as bad as it looks?”

Gwen winces and then swiftly turns around, immediately punching in her own dimension into the watchface. “I’d love to stick around… but I gotta go. Don’t die on me, okay?” She tells him, speaking quickly.

Miles is caught by surprise, but eventually concedes. He places a hand over his wound and nods in her direction. “Uhm. Yeah, cool. Will do. You uh, you take it easy, too. Yeah?”

Gwen only offers him a sad smile in return and her own watercolor-bright portal is immediately opened. Then, she’s stepping through it like she’s being chased down.

After the portal closes, everything that was in the vicinity settles down after floating in the air a bit.

Miles is left alone blinking in the place it used to be, unsure as to why Gwen just dipped on him like that out of nowhere.

He looks back down to his wound, only maybe slightly infected, but still very sure that the poison most likely worked itself through his body by now. Especially after that meatball sub and the fries...

Maybe seeing poisoned wounds upset her or something, he figured, shrugging and going back into the open kit laid next to him.

He starts cleaning his wound with isopropyl alcohol, wincing every now and then when the chemical stung a little harder as he peeled away dried blood.

It isn’t until after he’s done that he remembers their conversation about her best friend, back in the truck at the fast food joint.

He shuts the kit closed, tucks it back underneath the couch, and picks his phone up off of the counter where he usually leaves it before heading out to dangerous missions.

He selects and copies Gwen’s number from the Spider Band groupchat that he never sends messages in, opens a new message box, and sends only one text.

Thanks, btw. For everything.

[presiding]

What is your favourite thing about Billie Lurk?

(Answers are obvious possibly but i love when people talk about her👍)

thanks for the ask!! YEAH ME TOO I love when people talk about Billie! I can't say I have a favourite thing specifically, but I can explain why she's my fav. apologies for not taking this qn literally, but -

short answer: she’s really cool

& you can stop reading there, or, for the maybe 2 mutuals who might have time to read this my thoughts on her as a character, her meta, and her character as raw potential...

long answer:

i considered making this entire thing a gush so you could read a gush about Billie. but, part of what draws me to her is that she’s not always well written, and in fandom she’s underrated for a literal protagonist.

since you ask...

billie is a cool character

when I played Dh2 (hadn't played Dh1), I was excited to see a black woman with disabilities who was captaining a massive ship by herself. wow.

then I discovered Billie’s backstory with Deirdre, the way she responded to that, then having to survive while living on the run, and her bisexuality. as well as her history with daud & delilah. fascinating!

she’s an outsider who has so much to lose, and knows what it's like to lose everything - having lost everything not once but three times - but nevertheless speaks truth to power. she's so brave! she went and helped Emily & Corvo and she must have known they might kill her! plus, she’s smart, she’s funny, she gets shit done, she’s gorgeous.

but... the meta

mild critique of fandom & arkane incoming.

skip this bit if you want - you've been warned twice now - jump to tired Hayao Miyazaki and read from there if you'd like my thoughts on writing her.

i thought Death of the Outsider was going to be amazing and then... well. *sad trombone* i've written about that before so i won't keep banging on. i figured others must be disappointed too, so I joined a few fandom spaces in hopes of finding camaraderie.

most people with complaints about DotO didn’t like how the Outsider and Daud were handled. which is valid & I agree. but it seemed like most paid no attention to Billie; when people talk about her it’s with respect to Daud, as opposed to in her own right. you could argue for fandom misogyny because people don’t talk about adult Emily Kaldwin that much either, but in Billie's case, it’s misogynoir (compare & contrast with the popularity of thomas, particularly the popularity of thomas portrayed as a white man for no particular reason that i've been able to discern - i keep asking around, is it in the books???).

i think this is a LOT better now than it used to be, which is fantastic. or perhaps i have found the correct echo-chamber? ha.

ultimately, The Fandom is a fraction of the entire picture, and not even the important bit since The Fandom is not who these games are made for. you can't make money relying on only your hardcore fans even if all of them spent a fortune on merch, this is true for any AAA game.

while it's true that Billie is underrated from a fandom perspective - but Billie as an underwritten protagonist is squarely Arkane’s fault.

it was reasonable when she was a side character - the lack of info in Dh2 makes perfect sense (if anything there was more lore in Dh2 which is kind of wild)-

- but as a protagonist in Death of the Outsider?

.... there’s lousy writing, and there’s whatever is going on with Billie Lurk, a black woman who mostly exists as a foil or saviour for light-skinned characters. In her own game there’s barely any of her own lore except where it's relevant to saving two dudes.

lore hints at, but barely touches on what race means in the Dh universe (xenophobia is stronger in Dh1; separate essay i guess), but Arkane has patted themselves on the back for portraying non-white characters, which feels like the same thing as the aesthetic of diversity we're seeing in advertising currently because it’s in marketing trend guides. it's self-congratulatory and it's a missed opportunity for deeper storytelling.

you can see an example of diversity at its most shallow in the way that Billie’s written: there’s little engagement with her as an entire person with history & wants & preferences, and the world she walks through in that game feels like it has nothing to do with her. you could make a case for alienation as a theme, but then, how do you handle the titular premise of 'Dishonored' without ever letting Billie make changes in an environment without a chaos system? it's disappointing from that angle too.

in my opinion, whatever it's worth, it was an accident Arkane created such an awesome character - they needed someone to betray daud. congrats billie.

all this said, it makes her an underdog as far as characters to enjoy & create art & stories for. it's nice to find so many like-minded, switched on people! <3

billie's character potential

she’s got a wealth of unexplored lore, being deeply intertwined with both Karnaca & Dunwall’s fates & criminal underbellies, as well as her connections to the witches & whalers, and three Empresses.

she’s lived a few distinct lifetimes and in the games we get to meet her at two peaks (KoD & DotO) & a low (Dh2 as Meagan).

her voice is very distinct, her dry & often dark humour is entertaining & fun to write. her perspective is really interesting - she’s had the widest variety of void-powers of anyone canonically, and she’s also lived through the highest highs and lowest lows.

she's got everything going for her :) i couldn't really pick a fav thing!

[wttcsms]

i love enemies to lovers but we’re unlocking a new dynamic that is enemies AND lovers

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

The Mafia Princess Part VII: The Jacket

Update time! Sorry for the slow posting time on this one, but I wanted to take my time and not rush it since we're really getting to the good parts now! I hope you guys are enjoying this story!

Mafia Princess Masterpost

AO3 Link

Winning Result: Go with Desi to get a new outfit/jacket bought for her.

Reminder: The poll for the next chapter will be under the read more at the bottom of the post!

---

“I guess… a new outfit would be nice,” Elsa slowly said, not really sure if it was the right choice or not, but she figured she could always make a break for it and run if she needed to. He may have been a mafia boss, but he was still recovering from getting shot at a bunch of times, after all. She could outrun him. 

Desi gave her a smile that looked pretty normal before he was looking past her and raising his hand into the air, almost like he was doing that thing in movies when people waved down a taxi. “Alright. My men will pick us up just around the corner of this block, out-of-sight of all your classmates.”

“Thanks,” Elsa said, surprised he would actually care about what it would do to her already dead social life to be seen getting picked up in a suspicious black car by a bunch of men in suits. “So… you’re really okay? Because that was a lot of blood.” 

“I’ve been through worse.” Huh. Should that impress her or scare her? At the moment it was doing a little of both, if she was being honest. “You handled the situation well yourself, though. Experience?”

“I’m just that good,” Elsa said, pretending she hadn’t had a couple nightmares about all the blood and that she was perfectly fine and able to handle herself. 

Somehow, the look he gave her made her feel like he knew what was going on in her head and that he realized just how terrifying it had all been. She wasn’t sure if she liked that. Someone looking at her and honestly seeming like they got it. She was used to just pity, at that point. 

Thankfully, she didn’t have to say anything else, the two walking around the corner and Desi opening a door for her and guiding her into the back of the car. Now that she wasn’t in shock, she could see how expensive it was. It looked like the same one from yesterday, at least, minus any blood stains. 

The seats were made of black leather, though, so possibly it had just been cleaned really well. Who the hell made car seats with leather, anyways? Leather furniture was so uncomfortable! Plus all of the adults with it just ended up covering it with some kind of plastic- Okay. She was getting off-track. 

The point was that she was in a fancy car that was expensive enough to have the two seat rows that faced each other with a mini-fridge installed underneath the back row seat, the one she was sitting across. 

There was only one other guy in the car with them, the same one from yesterday that had spoken to her and taken her to the hospital, and he must have noticed her staring because he asked, “You want a drink, little miss?”

“I think it’s illegal to offer a twelve-year-old a drink,” Elsa said without thinking, which seemed to be a really common theme lately. Maybe she had been cursed. Before she could apologize and try to not get shot, the fridge was opened and there was a water bottle being held out to her with a very flat sort of look being shot her way. “Oh.” Elsa took the bottle. “Yeah. That, uh, makes more sense, I guess.” 

She heard that huffing breath of laughter, looking to Desi who was sitting next to who she guessed must have been Scotty. It was nice that neither of them was sitting beside her and gave her some space, even with as weird as everything was. “Well, there are a few different places we can take you to get that outfit. What sort of clothes do you often wear? What you are now?”

Elsa glanced down without even thinking about it. She wasn’t dressed in much besides some black jeans and a generic band t-shirt that was so faded she couldn’t even make out the name of the band. Elsa looked back at him. “I’m a foster kid. We wear what we can get.” Alright. That had been a little rude, she guessed. She also didn’t want to dive down into her foster kid woes and look like some kind of beggar or, worse, owe any kind of debts. “If it’s alright, I… really just want the jacket I had replaced.”

“Was it special to you?” Desi’s tone was a little kinder, something similar to pity, but not quite as condescending. It was nicer. 

“Sort of?” Elsa shrugged, looking away to instead fiddle with her water bottle and get it open. “I had been outgrowing it anyway so it basically didn’t fit anymore, but it was a gift.” 

A glance up showed that Desi was giving her his full attention and looking interested in what she was saying, and Scotty was looking out the window to where she couldn’t tell if he was making it seem like he wasn’t listening or actually wasn’t listening. Somehow, she felt herself wanting to say more. 

“It was a birthday gift from an older foster sibling I had a couple years ago. We didn’t even keep in contact and he left the system probably over a year ago now, but the jacket was still mine, you know? We weren’t exactly close, but it was mine.” It looked like he got it, but just to drive home the point she added on quietly, “You don’t get gifts much in the system. You don’t get things that are yours in the system.” 

The three of them sort of sat there quietly, Desi finally raising his voice, “Aidano?” He seemed to be talking to the driver, Elsa looking back to see they were actually driving. She hadn’t even felt the car move from where she and Desi had first gotten in. “The usual clothing place.” 

It was hard with how twisted around she was, but she was pretty sure she saw Scotty and Aidano both share some kind of look that probably meant something. “So, Elsa.” Desi smiled at her, still acting like he was talking to someone interesting. “If you could have your dream jacket, what would it look like?”

Well. If she had already shared her tragic backstory, she might as well go all the way, right? With that in mind, she took a sip of water before she closed the bottle and then moved her backpack to rest between her legs before opening it and, after shoving the bottle inside, pulling out her most recent sketchbook. She hadn’t been working in it much, so it was pretty beat up. Still, she knew exactly which page to flip to. 

“I guess my dream jacket would be something like this?” Elsa held out the sketchbook, letting Desi take it and feeling a burst of pride when the big time mafia boss looked impressed at her drawing. 

“You designed this?” Designed? Big word for just drawing a cool looking jacket, but she’d take the compliment. 

“Yup,” Elsa said, even more gleeful when she saw Scotty, who had still been pretending to not hear anything, snuck a glance over and looked impressed himself. “Drawing is cheap, easy, and fun, so it makes for a good hobby. I can’t exactly get clothes easy, since, you know, I’m twelve, so I just drew what I wanted. So I guess if I could have a dream jacket, it would be like that.”

“You’re got talent here, kid. It looks good.” Heh. She was pretty good, wasn’t she? She was pretty glad though that he decided to not flip around to other pages like other people would when she showed them a drawing. 

A voice from behind her startled her before she realized it was just the driver. “We’re here, sir.” 

“Thank you, Aidano.” Looking back to her, Desi smiled. “I think we can do something about getting you a good jacket.” 

With that he was opening the door and getting out of the car, still with her sketchbook in his hand, she noticed, and gesturing for her to follow. She glanced at Scotty, who just raised an eyebrow back like he was waiting on her. “Alright, alright,” Elsa grumbled, sliding over before getting out of the car, making sure to grab her backpack and take it with her. 

She barely got on the sidewalk before Desi was walking into a store, Elsa quick to follow and then immediately stopping when she got inside because whoa. It looked like one of those high-end tailoring places people in movies got their clothes from when they were rich. Bolts of fabric were lined up against the upper walls and everything was made of polished wood and curved edges. It looked sleek, cool, and expensive. 

Desi was walking up to the counter where someone in a fancy vest and suit pants was standing, a tape measure slung over their shoulders to really drive in the point she was somewhere where people made the clothes for a person specifically. Elsa followed him, but she was slow enough she could sneak some looks at some of the mannequins that did have outfits on them. She didn’t see any prices, and she definitely knew what that meant. 

Desi and the guy seemed to know each other, going by how warmly they said hi, and Elsa made sure to give it a couple minutes before she joined them at the desk, especially with how serious they looked to be after the initial hellos. It gave her time to look at some of the clothing more, already thinking up ideas for next time she drew.

When she finally got to the desk, Desi spared her a quick smile. “Matthew, this is Elsa,” Desi introduced, Elsa waving at Matthew because this was a very expensive store and she wanted to be on good behavior considering she already looked like she didn’t shop in places like this. Ever. “Like I was telling you, her jacket got ruined while she was helping me out and we’re here to get her a new one. I even got a reference photo for you this time around.” 

Her sketchbook was laid on the table and Elsa felt absolutely mortified that a professional designer was looking at her doodle of a jacket she thought would look good on her. “Oh! Did you draw this?” Matthew looked at her and looked impressed. “This is incredible work! I can tell you like designing, and your pallet to the side here shows a good sense of color.” 

“Oh. Thank you,” Elsa said even as she mentally scolded herself for doubting her skills because, obviously, she was a god at drawing and should be worshiped as such. 

She didn’t get to say anything else before she was being almost literally swept away and then helped onto a little stand with her arms held out as that measuring tape was used to take her measurements. 

It then hit that she was in a very expensive store getting a jacket custom-made for her and decided she was probably in another dream that she should just go along with. As long as she pretended it was all normal and fine, then it would be, right? 

It at least was interesting watching Matthew work, totally focused but still somehow answering her when she asked a couple questions about what she saw around her. She was really interested in that blue fabric that looked sort of like silk, but also had a really faint glittering pattern to it that looked really cool. 

She wasn’t sure if she was upset or relieved when she was back at Desi’s side at the front counter, her sketchbook being handed back to her and Matthew back at the counter and writing things down in a notebook faster than she ever would be able to. “Alright, since it’s a much smaller order than your usual, we should be ready to have it done and ready for her tomorrow for those final alterations. Some time after two, at most.”

She didn’t get to ask any final questions about how her jacket would look at the end before Desi was touching her shoulder just enough to steer her back towards the door, Elsa passing by another woman who had entered and, okay, fair enough, Matthew had work to do. She’d just get her questions answered tomorrow, anyways- Ah. Right.

“So,” Elsa said once they were outside, Scotty following them from where he had been standing by the door for probably the whole time. Seemed like a mafia thing to do. “We’re… coming back tomorrow?”

Desi chuckled and took something from his pocket before holding it out, Elsa shifting her grip on her sketchbook to take a white business card. It looked like it was for the store behind her, the name and address and everything printed on it. Flipping it over, she was surprised to see a number actually written in ink on the back. 

“You can come back yourself tomorrow and get it, no need to worry about strange men picking you up from school again.” Oh, thank god. “Payment is all taken care of, too, so all you need to do is pick it up and make sure it fits.” 

Elsa nodded, playing with the edge of the card before holding it up. “And the number is…?” 

“Just in case you need it.” Alright. Cryptic, but she could guess from that much at least that it was probably his. Probably. “Now. If you’d like we can give you a ride back home or even just back to the school. If you’d rather, there’s a bus stop just across the street, too.” 

Hm. For being a big time mafia boss, he sure gave her a lot of free will to make her own choices before just going along with them. It was better than just being told what to do like in every other aspect of her life. “I guess…”

[mariposiel]

My Red Son/Reader fic is probably going to go past 10K words, and there’s still a few, major scenes I have to incorporate AJSKDKD

[cryptidcorners]

gamers im gonna be honest i do not understand shipping

[chickenkooks]

Hi, it's May 2023 now time rly does fly fast huh? I still re-read TRA bec it's my comfort fic. Anyway i hope you're doing well and still having amazing sex lol! I miss hearing bout ur seggs stories and just ur life updates. I hope one day if by chance u can still open this acc, and you'll see our positive messages ahhh! tysm for writing tra really. Every year i still send you an ask it's pathetic jshdhd but i miss you sm my fave writer but I hope u're well, happy and healthy! 💜 it's been what 4 or 5 years but i still won't give up hope that u'll update us someday even if it's just a life update huhueee im just so thankful u wrote tra. And i truly miss you xx take care always!

oh boy so hi i don't even know how many years its been at this point but this message just really warmed my heart and i thought you were owed at least a response!!! thank you so so so much for this kind message. you guys have been getting after me ever since i left and trust me i see every message but i just didn't know what to say? i don't even know how many of you remember me or will even see this. im sorry for that. god i can't believe its been that long. i don't know if ill ever update tra. i really intended to finish and hoped having beta readers would help but.... i think i had left the fandom at that point so it was hard to put myself back in that same space. i really want to say how i intended for it to end but there is a part of me that hopes to finish it. i just don't know when that'll be, if I even decide to. but i've been getting back into writing lately but I post on ao3 now!!! if u guys are at all interested I could answer messages privately? anyway I hope ur doing well too whoever u are and i appreciate u from the bottom of my heart!!!!!! thank you so much for your patience

[twistedappletree]

Ajdhajjsjabdjabsajbd

[melit0n]

Some miscellaneous Paris photos I completely forgot to post! I have some Louvre photos, as well as a couple other misc. photos which I might share later as well!

[tossball-stick]

uhm so. you know how i said my current fic wip was supposed to be short.

its turning out nottttt to be that way

[oncillaphoenix]

concept that just tackled me out of nowhere and is now chewing on my brain: BW protag who disappeared bc they got sent off to be a PMD protag