#group: shepard family

[outsidersweek]

[Image ID: two drawings, the first one of afro-latina Curly and Angela standing together looking tough, the second one of Curly and Pony lighting cigarettes with the same lighter. End ID]

y'all they got me . I'm outsiders posting for real

Im not really into shipping yk I'm not about that life, but something about purly is actually crazy. like girl ................wait..... this is kind of interesting. dumb ass name tho

Shepard's are poc to me (afrolatino) because I kinda didn't know who they were for a bit and if you faceless to me you're poc until proven otherwise 😕 my bad I don't mean to 😕 I'm right though

[felassan]

[source (Senior Reporter at Kotaku), linked Kotaku article, two, 'FC 24's performance link', three, four, @/N7SeveranceDay (source of the last two images, "Account supporting BioWare employees laid off in 2023."), five, six, Polygon tweet, Polygon article]

"BioWare Continues to Refuse to Pay Severance" statement transcript:

“BioWare Continues to Refuse to Pay Severance On August 23 of this year, BioWare eliminated “approximately 50 roles at BioWare”. Following the layoffs, seven ex-BioWare employees engaged the services of R. Alex Kennedy to represent their interests, stating that the amount of severance offered was insufficient under Alberta common law. Counsel for the employees has attempted to reach a compromise that would avoid requiring lengthy court proceedings, but BioWare’s lawyers refused any offers to negotiate and settle out of court. The basis of Kennedy’s claim is that according to Alberta precedents and under Canadian law, these employees should be receiving approximately 1.7 months of severance per year of service they gave to BioWare. BioWare has now filed a Statement of Defence, which argues that the seven terminated employees are only entitled to two weeks of severance per year spent in service to BioWare, because of a contract provision that Kennedy says is not enforceable. The filing means BioWare will be taking these former employees to court rather than working towards finding an out of court resolution. The developers involved in the suit have expressed their disappointment: - “We are disappointed that BioWare prefers stalling and intimidation tactics to fair dealing with people who have given years, and in some cases decades, of dedication and hard work to the company.” - “We believe they are using intimidation and stalling tactics to try and get us to drop out. A lot of the more junior employees and those with families, who had more monetary pressure on them, could not risk waiting on a court case that may take many months more to resolve, and have already had to drop out.” - “At the time of the layoffs, BioWare offered us professional assistance in finding new employment, and an additional payment, but ONLY on the condition that we signed an agreement saying we cannot talk about any details of the settlement, and that we would completely waive any right to legal action or even to complain in any way about anyone associated with BioWare now or ever in the future. Tactics like that sure make me think that BioWare knows it is in the wrong.” - “Despite what they publicly announced when they laid us off, this process has been anything but empathetic, respectful, and communicative.” The latest BioWare layoffs were the third round so far this year, and many of the developers affected even in earlier rounds are still searching for work, though some have started to find new positions. Regardless of employment status, the members of the current lawsuit state they remain determined to pursue BioWare in court, regardless of their employment status: - “We strongly believe that if Dragon Age: Dreadwolf does not do as well as BioWare or EA wants at launch, there will be more, even larger layoffs. Therefore, regardless of our own well-being, we believe it is important to hold BioWare responsible and get a clear decision on what settlement amount is legal. We’re no longer part of the development team, so the best way we can help our former teammates now is to hold BioWare accountable and ensure that the next group who is laid off are not treated as poorly as we were.” November 7th marks “N7 Day”, which is a fan celebration of BioWare’s Mass Effect games featuring Commander Shepard and the crew of the Normandy. The developers involved in the lawsuit are hoping N7 Day this year will be a reminder to BioWare of the importance of loyalty to your crew, and hope fans can have a little fun and help express their support with memes and images using an #N7SeveranceDay hashtag. The ex-employees involved in the suit are all based in Canada and have an average of 14 years at BioWare.”

[source]

You can express your support using the hashtag #N7SeveranceDay.

Edit: [Part 2/update] [more on the Keywords topic]

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Darry Curtis was always gay- the musical just makes it more obvious.

I know it was never Hinton’s INTENTION for any of her characters to be perceived as queer, she claims she didn’t write them that way, and that’s fine. In fact, I think reading The Outsiders as a group of straight men who have the bonds they do is actually a really great critique of toxic masculinity, in that we would see the contrast between their interactions one on one or alone with the group, compared to their macho, hyper masculine personas they showcase in public. HOWEVER, I think it’s incredibly hard to read it that way because Hinton accidentally and completely unintentionally made Darry Curtis one of the gayest characters in modern literature. It’s not far fetched. It’s not a stretch. I’m saying that if you have even a surface level understanding of subtext that it is obvious. Darry’s queerness is as open  in the novel as he is in his life- that is, it’s never said explicitly, but it’s VERY easy to see the signs. In fact, the way it’s threaded into the narrative but very talked around leads me to believe that even though Darry wasn’t out, it might have been an open secret within the gang- or at the very least they probably had some suspicions. 

For one, in the book Darry is never mentioned even once to have had a girlfriend, or even to have gone on dates, but we know he was popular and well liked. You can’t convince me that a handsome, popular football player, whose peers liked him enough to vote him Boy of The Year, didn’t have more than a few girls interested in him, but Pony’s narration never even alludes to Darry having been interested in one. For all he talks up Darry’s achievements, the scholarship he won, the future he could have had and everything he gave up, women/a girlfriend were never a part of it- which, given the time period and Darry’s reliance on hyper masculine social scripts, seems highly uncharacteristic unless there was a plausible explanation for his complete disinterest (ie. being gay). Now, examine this hyper masculinity a little further, and you can see it for what it is, a) a defence mechanism (because it separates him from stereotypes of what a gay men are like, so if he’s ‘manly’ enough no one will ever suspect or discover what he is) and b) the unfortunate complete opposite of that. Just like how hyper femininity characteristic to femme lesbians is off putting to men, the same is true to some degree about hyper masculine men being somewhat off putting to women. Not to the same degree, and probably not as obviously, but Darry’s  over the top masculinity might be the one thing effective in keeping (some) women away for reasons they can’t quite put their finger on. Point is, Darry was never a ladies man, to a degree that is very not heterosexual, especially for the time period.

So, now that we’ve established Darry’s complete disinterest in dating women,  his hypermasculine personality and it’s possible implications, let’s turn to other textual support for his queerness: his relationships with other male characters. I’m not talking about the gang- his interactions with all of them are very friendly/familial-  but he has a bond with Tim Shepard that is clear on the page but left largely unexplained (their weird eye contact and high mutual respect, the fact Tim was at their house once with no explanation), and his homoerotic run in/fight with Paul at the rumble. Both these relationships have plausible deniability- they’re not explicitly gay, but they’re also not NOT gay. Again, Hinton didn’t intentionally make Darry gay, but he very much is, and as far as closeted gay characters go, he’s a fairly well written one, because the subtext is very much THERE if you know what you’re looking for, but the queerness of his interactions is shrouded in this very real this COULD mean nothing characteristic of a lot of closeted queer interactions. 

Having said all this, I think the musical making Darry and Paul’s fight (somehow) even more charged and homoerotic than it is in the book was a wise choice, because a lot of the rest of the subtext was changed/missing from the musical adaptation. I’ve seen the ritfr analysis looking at the lyrics as they relate to Darry’s queerness, and I do think they follow the veiled/subtextual theme, but I don’t think they’re as explicitly gay as they’re touted to be. However, I do think the musical does a good job of highlighting Darry’s queerness given the medium they’re working with, and the actors do an amazing job portraying it without saying it outright, making it more obvious than it is on the page- but Darry was canonically gay in the book too, and let’s not pretend otherwise.

(Lmk if you want to see my analysis of the other Curtis’ queerness as it related to the book + musical).

[tarysande]

Mass Effect 2: The Case for the Heroine's Journey

I have a theory. And I think it's something others--especially other storytellers--might find interesting. It explains why some people absolutely adore Mass Effect 2 while others (not as many, in my experience!) think dealing with all the companions and their personal quests is boring or irrelevant.

What it boils down to is the difference between the Hero's Journey and the Heroine's Journey. There a couple of takes on the Heroine's Journey (ranging from more philosophical and psychoanalytical to more story-based), and I'm going to be pulling hard from the story-based iteration, which author Gail Carriger has written a fabulous book about. I highly recommend it.

One thing I want to mention right off the bat: the gender, sex, or sexuality of your protagonist has nothing to do with whether they're a hero or a heroine.

Everyone and their dog knows the Hero's Journey. A literal ton of writing advice refers to the Hero's Journey as if it's the be-all and end-all of narrative (thanks Carl Jung, Joseph Campbell, and Christopher Vogler); it ain't called the monomyth for nothing.

But if a part of you grits your teeth every time it gets trotted out as The One Right Way to tell a story that sells or a story people love, you may have your mind blown by the concept of the Heroine's Journey. Every single one of you who tingles with excitement at the very thought of found family (or romance, for that matter)? Yeah, strap in, we're going for a ride.

I don't want to go into a lot of detail about the Hero's Journey; it's everywhere. You know it even if you don't realize you know it. So for brevity's sake, I'll give you wikipedia's one-sentence description: a hero goes on an adventure, is victorious in a decisive crisis, and comes home changed or transformed. Luke Skywalker. Everyone always talks about Luke Skywalker. And on the surface, Mass Effect could seem like a Hero's Journey, right?

According to Gail, a Hero's Journey boils down to

A repeated pattern of withdrawal and return, and those withdrawals are voluntary, as voluntary withdrawal and increased isolation yields self-reliant strength.

Victory is in isolation and asking for help is bad.

But looking at it (especially ME2) through the lens of the Heroine's Journey is where it gets interesting.

This is the infographic Gail created and supplies on her website:

In her book, Gail notes that not every element has to be present to qualify a story as a Hero/Heroine's Journey and the events don't have to happen specifically in this order.

In the Heroine's Journey

The heroine's withdrawal is involuntary; something is broken and she must abdicate the power she had in order to rebuild, retrieve, or reunite with what was taken or broken.

Victory is a group effort; asking for help is a sign of strength; and the protagonist realizes that while she can't do everything herself, she has surrounded herself with people whose skills she can effectively deploy.

In the Heroine's Journey, the DESCENT is involuntary. Something is done to her or taken from her, and it breaks her familial network.

In ME2, obviously, uh, the thing that's taken from Shepard is her own life. Of course, instead of that being the end of the story, it's the inciting incident that leads to the involuntary withdrawal from her found family on the Normandy, her connection to the Alliance, and her Spectre status. Her home is literally destroyed. And then, kinda hilariously, she wakes up in the literal underworld. You know. Cerberus, dog that guards the gates of Hades?

I play a very Paragon Shepard and haven't played Renegade, so I can't speak to that. However, I can tell you that my Paragon Shep wakes up working for Cerberus and promptly proceeds to gain more Renegade points in the first couple of missions--hell, the first couple of conversations with Miranda, Jacob, and TIM--than she got in all of ME1.

Jacob: Do you trust me, Shepard? Shepard: NO, omg.

I've probably played ME2 five or six times with this Shepard, and she always strikes me as a bit off, a bit manic even, until she sees Tali. And she doesn't really start to settle or feel like herself until Archangel takes off his helmet, believes she is who she says she is, and without hesitation agrees to follow her into hell.

(As the protagonist in his own story, Garrus is also a heroine on a Heroine's Journey, by the by. Shepard's death breaks his network; C-Sec and the Council's denial of the Reapers leads to his abdication of power in the hunt for justice. His underworld is Omega. He puts together a surrogate family to fight injustice; he learns to delegate; he doesn't do it for glory... And then Sidonis's betrayal breaks the new family and sends him on another cycle. My theory, however, is that if you let him kill Sidonis, his journey takes on the revenge aspect of a Hero's Journey instead of the family and reunification structure of a Heroine's Journey.)

In ME2, the arc of recruiting an ally, earning their loyalty, and deploying their suggestions to improve the entire team's chances of survival is repeated over and over; this is the SEARCH of the cycle. And anyone who's ever tried to race their way through ME2 without doing all those loyalty missions or without scanning all those planets for resources finds out pretty quick why they're important.

So, while you potentially could race through ME1 without even recruiting several teammates (did you even know you can play that game without recruiting Garrus???), thereby making it much more of a Hero's Journey of the Strength of the Individual, you really can't do that in ME2 without massive casualties. You need the people around you. You need to build relationships. And you need to learn to delegate well, or things will absolutely fall apart during the end run.

Even the stated mission of ME2 is more Heroine's Journey. You're not fighting for glory; in fact, most of the people who used to be in awe of you now think you're a crazy terrorist. You're fighting to stop what's happening to human colonists.

The end run is so satisfying specifically because it leans in to the Heroine's Journey of information gathering and network building. You cannot beat the game as a solitary soldier. You cannot achieve a good outcome--minimal deaths, etc.--without having spent a lot of time and effort gaining the loyalty of your crew and then knowing how to deploy them to best serve the whole team.

ME2 is a story about finding and building a family after the last one is broken.

And though it's a whole other can of worms, I actually think the reason why the ending of ME3 was ultimately so unsatisfying for so many (again, not all) is because the majority of the game is once again a Heroine's Journey--team building and information gathering across the galaxy--but the endgame pulls the expected narrative out from under you. Instead of actually using the resources you've so carefully built, you're quite literally beamed up into complete isolation (weakness) and left to make a choice in isolation. It breaks the narrative promise that's been set up since the beginning of the game. And, whether you realize it or not, that's a huge part of why that lonely choice feels so hollow. Instead of a structured reunion and a rebuilt network, it's actually the broken family and involuntary descent that heralds the beginning of a new Heroine's Journey--not the the end of a successful one.

Also, incidentally? It's Heroine's Journeys that usually get satisfying instead of distracting-the-hero-from-his-real-mission romance, banter, fully realized side characters, and humor.

[outsidersweek]

[Image ID: a digital drawing of Angela, Curly, and Tim. They have brown skin and curly hair. Angela is grinning, Curly is thinking gay thoughts, and Tim is brooding. End ID]

Throws the Shepard siblings at you and runs

[ranx0]

Imagine Darrel Curtis not wanting kids after Ponyboy and Sodapop.

Imagine, Darrel Curtis, the spitting image of a once amazing father, all the right qualifications to parent a kid just fine, the image of masculinity, not wanting kids.

In the 1960’s no less, a time where the perfect American dream idealistic family was on the rise, and fast. The thought that you were put on this earth to have a happy and successful life, and the way to do that is to have a family. Be a father, or a mother. Raise a child.

When Darrel’s parents die he realizes that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

He’s shopping for groceries when he first realizes how much of a hastle it must be. He’s deciding what to buy, what will cost less to support his brothers when he sees a woman, much older than him, cradling a baby on her hip and a toddler crying behind her. ‘What a hastle..’ he thinks to himself. She’s holding two things in her hands, then reluctantly places one back on the shelf.

He realizes, that’s exactly what he’d just done.

Next it’s a dad at the park, at that small field he and the gang play football. He’s playing catch with his son, throwing a baseball back and forth with it landing firmly in their gloves.

He’s picking up the football tossing it around in his hands because Ponyboy had just left him to go talk to that Shepard kid he just saw walk in.

The father catches the ball one last time before the kid shouts at him, the father gives him a thumbs up as the kid discards the gloves and runs to go hang out with another group of boys.

He realizes, that’s exactly what just happened to him.

Finally, the mother and father with the two twins, a boy and a girl. They look fed up as the two pre-teens bicker in the middle of a parking lot. They’re fighting over the seat of the car they get to sit in, who called shot gun.

They completely disregarded their father who was already climbing into the front seat to sit next to his wife as the argument started. The husband and wife look at each other in annoyance.

He turns back to his truck to find Two-Bit with his feet on the dash, and a distraught looking Ponyboy and annoyed Sodapop in the back seat.

He turns back to the family, choosing to ignore the gang. The mother and father look like they’ve gone through this before, and they’re just about tired of it.

He realizes— things don’t change when you get ‘the dream.’

It’ll always be the same.

He won’t be happier struggling to afford groceries with kids when he already does that.

He won’t be happy being under appreciated by his son, because he already is.

He won’t be happy with petty arguments all the time, because there already are.

He’s not happy like this, he didn’t choose this. And if he had— he still wouldn’t be.

[daveyscheezitz]

♤My personal David HCs♤

And Angel ofc

- He's 6'7ft or 200cm

- His mother was Peruvian while Gabe was American.

- Although he looks a lot like his father, most of his physique came from his mother's side.

- His eyes are a hazel, but depending on the light, his eye color looks like it changes to either green or brown.

- When they were really young, both David and Asher thought he had super powers other than his shifting until Gabe told them the truth.

- His great grandfather (moms side) was Samoan, but his genes skipped a couple of generations until they reached David, making him turn out huge.

- He's surpassed both Asher and Gabe in height.

- He has a small scar over his lip. He fell off a tree face first.

- A lot of people try to flirt with him while on the job, but he ignores them. Asher likes stepping in and pretending he's David's boyfriend until the person leaves.

- "Another relationship saved, don't ya think David?" "Shut up, Ash."

- Him and Asher have a "Wolverine & Deadpool" friendship.

- Unironically listens to kpop girl groups from time to time. Especially Twice and Red Velvet.

- Will take it to the grave before anyone finds out, especially Asher and Angel.

-They know but they want to catch him in the act.

- He genuinely enjoys musicals. His favorites are Hairspray and Epic.

- Loves playing video games and is definitely the type to scream at a game yet continue playing it. *ahem* Overwatch & COD

- If Angel likes Legos, he'll tell them not to waste so much money on those things ... then proceeds to buy them the Colosseum ... and a set of small flowers.

- He's rich >:]

- He drives a F250 but has a 1990 corvette that him and his dad fixed up in the garage. It was his first car and a way for Gabe to teach him how to fix a car.

- Phonk & Rock>>

- Has black hair and a couple gray hairs (We love silver foxes)

- He has bright gold eyes in his wolf form, but his fur is completely black

- Although they've been together 6 years, The mall wasn't the first place they've seen each other. While Angel was in their last year of college, one of the pack members was in the cheer squad and they came to support her while Angel was in (band dance cheer wtv u want) that was the first time they saw each other but other than a comment from Asher that Angel was cute, they didn't actually talk.

- He's actually really good at dancing but doesn't like to do it. The only reason he'll dance is if Angel begs him, and even at that, it's only limited to slow dancing.

•These next Hcs are about mostly my Angel OC so if you're not interested you can skip these•

- Angel was raised in a wealthy family and owns a ranch that their father tends to. All future Solstice parties hosted by David and Angel take place there due to the large house and even bigger land area. (As long as they don't eat the animals)

- (i refuse to believe Angel and Babee are useless) Angel and Babee both are childhood friends who served in the military together. Angel is a sergeant with good sniper skills and Babee was a demolitionist.

- Angel owns quite a few dogs. Most are herding dogs for the animals in her ranch, but 2 of them are her pets. A Rottweiler and a Chihuahua that David gets jealous of sometimes.

•Okay done•

- (This 1 is quite sad. Tw: mentions of death) David is fluent in spanish because Gabe didn't want him to forget about his Peruvian heritage after his mom passed away, so while he was young, he did his best to take David to Peruvian style restaurant and events. Gabe even traveled all the way to Peru so David could visit his grandparents, who he adored.

- Loves spicy food.

- His favorite dog breed is a Caucasian Shepard or a Calupoh.

- His love languages are Acts of Service or Gift giving.

- After he proposed to Angel or after they were married, if anyone tried flirting with him, he would flash is wedding ring before silently walking away.

- Angel is not allowed to cook, and if they are, it's either to make noodles. Their ramen is so good, even beating David's.

- David's name on Angels phone is "Pookie Wookie 🐺" Angels' name of David's phone is their actual name. ex. "Alex," "Jackson," "Monica," but Angel changed it to "Beautiful Gorgeous🧍" He didn't care enough to change it.

- He got so jealous of the name Asher put for his number on Angels phone "Ashy Baby," but Angel was the one he punished (no walking for you tmr)

I got no more tysm <3

[scribbing]

Veilguard doesn't work with Mass Effect 2's Strategy

I mean the 'lets get our heads on straight before we go into the 'suicide mission'' concept.

In Mass Effect 2, Shepard and the gang know full well that they are going to undertake a mission that will most likely result in their deaths but there is no real ticking clock over their heads. They are the ones making the choice to go there, the only point in time in the game that there's a potential for a ticking clock is after your crew is stolen but that is still a very personal timebomb and not a galaxy wide one.

So everyone wanting to tie up loose ends, make sure family is safe and cared for, get the answers to questions they desperately needed are all okay; because there's no 'The Reapers are literally here, right outside the window and what the hell why would you ask us to waste time to go chase down a random lead that might be nothing or just something that only affects you when billions are dying?'. No, there's 'we're going to take the fight to the Collectors so everyone be ready'. It works, the stakes allow that time to be used.

Veilguard does not allow this and yet still tries to give it. The Blight is here. It is killing people right now. Whole groups have been massacred and whole cities and fortresses destroyed. It is literally the end of the world TODAY...so what the hell? How am I supposed to care that someone wants to go 'finish a last case' or 'we're all distracted because what does this new magic mean?' Um - it means NOTHING, none of this has any weight or value up against THE END OF THE WORLD HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!?!?!?!

The whole 'we went and got professionals, the best of the best' does not then work with 'oh but they're distracted from SAVING THE WORLD because of personal trifles. Because in the end that's what ALL of their personal questlines boil down to. TRIFLES. While people are actively dying, while the end is rapidly approaching.

It's the absolute worst attempt at trying to create the same layout of ME2, and it makes me just sigh because its ridiculous. When you're literally part of the what, 8 person team that's going to STOP THE END OF THE WORLD you don't get to be 'oh but I'm distracted because of personal things but I swear I'm a professional but I'm going to be semi-useless and potentially die and get others killed if you don't hold my hand and pat my head on this thing that holds no value whatsoever'.

[outsidersweek]

[Image ID: a drawing of Tim, Curly, and Angela from the shoulders up. They all have dark skin and curly hair. End ID]

My interpretation of the Shepards! I love them SOOO much!

[eviesqueezie]

the curtises and the shepards have like whole family meet-ups

like angela tim and curly will all go over to the curtises for dinner and yeah it’s a bit awkward because of the whole ‘angela had a crush on pony’ thing but it’s fine

sodapop ends up talking to angela, darry to tim and obviously pony to curly (duh)

every wednesday night, they pack up some homemade food to bring over and share amongst the group (darry, soda and pony cook stuff too)

sometimes two-bit or steve will show up too, but most of the time it’s just the two families- so similar yet so different

[grapejuice32]

Payback

masterlist here Rafe Cameron x reader

notes: I'd be super grateful for some requests as I'm struggling with ideas at the moment <3

Had you pushed it a little too far? Maybe...but did you regret it? Absolutely not. Not when your actions had brought you exactly where you wanted to be. In Rafe's bed, his movements harsh and yet somehow passionate.

The two of you had been at some party on the beach, but Rafe wasn't paying that much attention to you, instead he was off with Topper and Kelce, as always, and they were surrounded by a group of giggling girls, everything about them fake, down to the way they pushed their chests out when breathing. This seemed to always happen, you went to a party, for Rafe, with Rafe, and then you always ended up either silently sat beside him while he talked shit with Toppe and Kelce, or left to your own devices, watching him let the gaggles of girls practically sit in his lap, their hands running up his arms or chest as they laughed at something he said that probably wasn't even that funny.

You had finally had enough though and so you had sought to act out in a way that would truly infuriate Rafe. Flirt with JJ Maybank. You never really understood what his issue with the Pogues was, but you always out it down to some sort of twisted jealousy at the fact they had real friends, real connection when all he had was a couple of guys younger than him that followed him like he was a shepard and them the sheep. Not that he'd ever admit that of course, but you know his hatred wasn't just down to their social standing like he made it out to be, especially not after his sister became one of the Pogues. No, you knew he probably just felt lonely and presented it as hatred due to some sort of embarrassment about his feelings.

But you'd never hated the Pogues, in fact you quite liked them, and had hung out with them at a few parties before. While you were technically a Kook, your family had become pretty much broke, loosing their financial stability after a incident involving court, so you were pretty much someone of Pogue standing, money wise, who was still living in the grotesquely overpriced house that your family had moved into so many years ago and refused to sell, your parents not wanting to diminish themselves by moving off of Figure Eight and onto The Cut.

So you felt full of confidence as you sauntered over to the group and sat so close to JJ you were practically on him, he just greeted you with a smile and swung his arm over your shoulder, passing you a beer. It must have been at least twenty minutes before your phone vibrated with a text from Rafe that simply read, 'where the fuck are you.'

Your lips had only quirked up in response and you'd pushed your phone out so that you could get a picture of you and JJ sat together, the both of you smiling at the camera. You had been quick to upload it to your story on instagram, with his user tagged and a white heart emoji besides it. Rafe's response to it came through almost instantly, reading, 'yeah, I don't think so.'

And before you knew it he was walking over to you, his pace hurried and his feet heavy on the sand, "C'mon, we're leaving." His voice had come, firm and infuriated.

"Mm, I dunno, I quire like it here," you'd slyly answered, leaning further into JJ who you heard quietly chuckle the sound echoing through his bottle as he brought his beer up to his lips.

Rafe scoffed a laugh, a humourless one at that, "uh, yeah, I don't fuckin' think so, c'mon, get your ass up an' get yourself on my bike."

And that's how you'd ended up here, Rafe's hand wrapped around your throat, the other gripping on of your hips so hard you were sure the signet ring on his finger would leave an imprint on your skin like a brand. There was a pillow tucked under your arched back and Rafe was slotted between your widely parted thighs, his hips rolling to push himself into you, each thrust somewhat harsh while being deeper inside of you than you can ever remember him being. You were seeing star at this point, he'd already pulled one rather intense orgasm out of you the he'd eaten you out like a starving man yet acted like he hated you at the same time. But now, your hands were on his back, feeling his muscles tense with each movement of his hips, your nails digging into his skin, creating crescent moons that would likely remain there until the next day.

"Think he can make y'feel like this, huh?" Rafe asked darkly, his lips pressed against your ear as his hand tightened ever so slightly on your throat, a soft moan escaped you in response, "hey, answer the fuckin', question, aight?"

All you could muster was the shake of your head followed by a "no," so quiet Rafe would have missed it had he not been listening intently for an answer from you, pulling back so he could rest his damp forehead against your own. "And who can, huh? Who's the one that makes y'feel this good, hm?"

"Y-you, 's just you, Rafe." you panted, the words coming out in a breathy whisper as your eyes squinted shut when he hit a particular spot inside of you.

You felt his breath against your face as he chuckled, "Yeah, 's me, not JJ, not anyone else. Me. You'd do best t'fuckin remember that." He answered, his tone sounding somewhat mean, which made sense to you when he suddenly stopped his thrusts and pulled out of you, his hand slipping off of your throat, casing your eyes to shoot open.

"Rafe?" you had asked softly, wondering what had happened, why he had stopped when you were so close to finishing. He looked down at you with a cruel glint in his eye, "What, y'think 'm gonna let you cum after y'pulled that shit? Nah. Y'can wait till tomorrow an if y'good, maybe I'll help y'out when we wake up, yeah?"

You looked at him wide eyed, your jaw dropping as he bent down to press a kiss to your forehead before getting up to go in the shower, leaving you on his bed, aching and unsatisfied.

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

[thedevillovesflowers]

Angels +Plot 🪽🪽🪽

Call of Duty AU

In this AU, there are many beasts but angels are the ultimate prize to capture or hunt.

Angels are not the heavenly beings you read about in bibles but rather they are a type of humanoid with the capability of flight, long lifespans, and the believed healing powers.

Angels are extremely rare creatures to spot. They are known to live solitary lives, however it has been documented they might live with exception of small families/groups.

Angels are omnivores. And can see in the dark. Most prefer to fly at night so they won’t be seen by humans.

Angels can come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Their wingspans vary depending on their height. There are also subspecies of angels.

Angels wing colours/patterns vary on the regions they reside in (think of owls and other birds of prey). For vanity, some angels will paint the tips of their wings to attract a mate.

Feathers are apparent on various parts of their bodies, legs, arms, chest, face etc. Braiding, preening, beads in the hair are comfort acts angels do, and to also show affection for one another.

Facial feathers are small, usually appearing on the forehead, cheeks, nose and chin.

Angels are either described as beautiful creatures, or terrifying ones, depending on who you ask.

Kingdoms would hire mercenaries to hunt down rare beasts to hang up for display, profit, or for pets.

But no one has ever captured an angel. Not yet. But then, a powerful king (Shepard) put together a campaign to capture one, he hired the 141 along with his own general, Graves (and his shadow company) to do the task. What the 141 doesn’t know, is that the king is dying of old age, he believes that capturing and killing an angel and using their blood will grant him long life and youth.

141 has slain/captured many beasts in their careers, so getting an angel was a challenge they were willing to take. I know this seems cruel of them, but in this AU they start off as thinking their helping people out by getting rid of beasts, but they’ll soon learn that what they’re doing is actually harmful.

The reader is an angel, living with their family in the mountains and caves.

One night, the reader set out to retrieve food, until she was shot down by a net the 141 cast, severely damaging her wing. And her family had to flee, leaving the reader behind sadly.

While graves and his men hung back, price, Gaz, soap and ghost went ahead to investigate.

Ghost went first, sword drawn, slowly rounding to the forest’s opening to where you laid. Rope held tightly over your body, one of your wings was cut and broken. You were unconscious, facing away from him. There was feathers strewn about everywhere, and as ghost came closer and walked around to see you clearly, he suddenly halted dead in his tracks, a terrible feeling pinched in his stomach….

You were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

(This is just an idea for now, I might draw this.)

[outsidersweek]

[Image ID: A drawing of Tim, Curly, and Angela arguing. Tim says "fuck you" while thinking "baby brother, Curly says "fuck you!" while thinking "he hates me", and Angela says "I hate both of you" while thinking "I hate both of you". End ID]

They’re so silly and stupid I love them

[nrivanwrites]

did anyone ask for a SUPER LONG writeblr/wip intro?

my name is Ro, I'm 23 years old, and I currently work full-time as an optician while I juggle approximately a dozen projects. please please PLEASE tag me in your projects, tag games, whatever. I love to look at things :)

here's a handful of my current projects. let me know if anyone wants to be on a gen/specific tag list!

THE LAST LORINEAN

epic fantasy, draft 3.2

A marathon of a project, spawning from an absentminded idea in 2011. While the central cast has undergone some face-lifts over the years, the bones have remained somewhat unchanged. There's probably a million drafts of this out there, but we'll call my current one the third big effort to get the story written.

Found family, magical road-trip, and laying the foundations for an interconnected multi-series exploration of the universe in which it's set.

Those born on the Aronian continent do not dream, long-cursed by the Witch Queen of the previous age. The dream-weaving Lorineans, who once provided a reprieve from the curse to the Aronian people, conspired against the kingdom and earned their eradication at the hands of the now-immortal Emperor. The empire now lives in dreamless peace, a united force of human, elven, and faerie kingdoms.

In the rural south of the Empire, Lilliana Karington has been living a quiet life. Unbeknownst to her, a Lorinean has been hitching a ride on her soul for her entire life—a secret that will send her on the run. She is joined by a fugitive by the name of Sadene from the faerie kingdom of Kyrania who carries secrets of her own, secrets that could topple the Kyranian monarchy and pantheon both.

With Imperial soldiers and Sadene's twin brother on their heels, Lilli must learn to trust the Lorinean she is bound to if she is ever to find a way to return to her peaceful life. But as she learns more about the secrets her Empire hides, the harder it will be to find peace ever again.

THE DAUGHTER OF DENMARK

historical fantasy, draft 3

a.k.a. I played Hamlet seven years ago and now it's everyone's problem. A novelization/reimagining of Hamlet through the lens of gender, queerness, and what a religious conflict means when there is concrete memory of Denmark's pre-Christian heritage. However, please don't expect historical accuracy from this project. It's about vibes.

Court intrigue, love quadrangles, repressed trauma, tragedy… y'know, the Shakespeare of it all.

Hamlet has known what her life was meant to be from the very moment she was born. Named a Ragnarson to ensure her claim to the Danish throne, she has been sheparded by her kind-hearted father and traditional German mother towards the title and burden of King.

When a hunting accident brings Hamlet near death, she is sent to her mother's old university for safety, far from the politics of Denmark. The things she saw in the world between life and death haunt Hamlet between her studies and blossoming friendships.

All too soon, Hamlet is called back to Denmark, where a dark shadow has robbed her of all she once knew. Through madness and memory, she must spiral to the end of a story that was written long ago.

PROJECT: ATLANTIS

epic sci-fantasy, outlining

Inspired by a Google+ roleplay group the two of us were members of in 2014-2019, a friend and I have been building a world and narrative that stretches years of cowriting. We are slowly finding a way to adapt our work into novelizations. One day, we'll even come up with a title!

Political intrigue, vast worldbuilding, and a web of characters spanning one end of the world to the other. Featuring a conlang and neography!

After fifteen years of tenuous peace in Atlantis, the question of succession has risen again. Faolan Althaea is of age to take her family's throne, but the banished descendants of Faolan Agallai have retained their influences in the dark, and they are ready to make another bid for the throne. Althaea is thrust headfirst into the boiling conflict, and she must learn fast which faces to trust.

On the other side of a once dormant portal, Faolan Illyrius is paying the price for rescinding his claim to the coveted throne. The godless, ransacked world of Aegina—known as Earth to its inhabitants, the aeg'oroi—is hiding knowledge that could turn the tides of the Faolan and Agallai conflict, and he is the one who must get his hands dirty to find it.

The Agallai loyalists have not been dormant since orchestrating the death of Althaea's parents. They have gathered supporters of a new generation, preying on the aeg'oroi that regent Priar Arsina, ruling in Althaea's stead for the last fifteen years, is so determined to alienate. As the succession crisis comes to a head, loyalist agents vie for control over the portal connecting Atlantis to the aeg'oroi homeland.

Something dark lurks in the shadows of Entropy connecting these two worlds. The gods have fallen silent, and their people are divided. Will Atlantis stand, or will sickness devour it all?

ON THE PRECIPICE OF THE UNIVERSE

narrative sci-fi poetry, final draft

Return of the king… because I am going to be self-publishing her! I am starting a fresh round of edits and will be looking for some beta readers soon. Mostly need a vibe check on the amount/length of poems and general format. Then comes cover design (will be commissioning a college friend), page design, and figuring out how the hell I'm gonna do this!

Sentient spaceships, loneliness, and the great unknown.

When the last war broke out on Earth's surface, the spaceships launched. No one expected the fires to reach high enough to knock the entire fleet out of the sky—save one, a sole survivor drifting onwards to a new planet.

Years later, only one of the ship's passengers remains alive, going through the motions of the day without fail. The last human alive cleans the vents and weeds the hydroponic gardens. And, they write, chronicling the little life they have left to live.

OEDIPUS REGINA

tragedy, draft one

Apparently, I am allergic to writing a play about anything but the ancient Greeks. Yet another gender reimagining! This came at the request of some college friends who acted in The Kassandriad and have done some readings of my other Greek plays. Still debating if I will be swapping the masculine and feminine for the names.

Cycles of fate, inherited trauma, and the inherent eroticism of riddles.

Oedipus, princess of Corinth, is a young woman when she hears the prophecy that she kill her mother and bed her father. She flees the home she has always known and finds herself in Thebes, a city living in the shadow of a sphynx and the absence of their queen. The childless, widower king takes an interest in her; an interest that sets in motion a cacophony of disasters for the Theban throne.

EAT HER HEART OUT

drama, draft one

Guess what. It's a reimagining of a Greek myth. Who is surprised. This one is taking a look at the Homeric Hymn to Demeter—and yes, I am aware of how many Persephone retellings there are in the world. Leave me alone. What if I'm built different (I'm not).

Motherhood, dependence/independence, and unreliable narrators.

We visit three worlds: of the gods, where Demeter searches for her daughter and Persephone toils in the Underworld; of the mortals, where Demeter hides among a mortal family during her endless winter; and of the Muses, who tell the story à la true crime podcast. The lines intertwine and an old story is made new (again).

[alittlebitofloveliness]

can you please write something angsty about dally helping out darry after discovering how stressed he is or maybe finding him crying

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, but here it is. Gonna tag @chained-sweater and @johnnyburntcake because they both asked to be tagged when it was finished after reading my out of context snippet. As with most of my stuff this is unbetaed so sorry for any mistakes or typos

*******************

Dallas Winston needs a lot of things. His boots are held together with duct tape and about fourteen different layers of mud, his jeans are worn, torn, patched, and torn again, and his number of material possessions is probably something less than twenty- he never had much in the first place and he pawned just about everything he had when he ran from New York five years ago. But despite all the things he is lacking, all the things he’s never had and the things he could use, what he wants most right now is a fucking break.

Dammit but he didn’t think moving out to rodeo country would involve caring so much. His gang back in New York had been a proper gang- more organized and even crueler than Shepards outfit, a group of tough as nails dealers and muscle, who’d just as soon shoot a kid as they would give them a chance. Hell, he’d been scared of them back in the day, for all he’d been smarter than most of them, because that kind of casual violence only came from the joy of hurting something, not from necessity. Only an idiot wouldn’t be scared of those sorts of people. Here though, in sleepy little Tulsa Oklahoma his gang is…a drunk, a dropout, two high schoolers, one recent high school graduate, and tagalong middle school kid- and yet, Dally finds himself far more loyal and goddamn committed to the ragtag group of big hearted losers than he ever was to old Alfie and his ring of coke dealing miscreants. It’s maddening. It’s wonderful. It’s horrible. It’s tiring is what it is, and Dally needs a goddamn break. Who wouldn’t after the night he’d just had, which involved practically dragging a nearly hypothermic Johnny Cade out of the cold and trying to warm the kid up? And as if that hadn’t been bad enough, he’d then had the dubious honour of driving Ponyboy to school this morning. Something about the kid’s zombielike stare and hunched shoulders had left him thinking of how bright those eyes used to be, just three months ago, which led to him thinking of Mrs. Curtis’ stern demeanour but kind face, and it was all just too much. Dallas needs a break. He wasn’t meant for this sappy caring shit. He’s done his mourning- he doesn’t need to be knocked all off kilter because of two kids who think of themselves as gangsters but in reality are nothing more than battered kids, bruised in different ways. This is the problem, Dally has found, with gangs that are more family than function- they’re made of people instead of parts of a machine. You can’t care about someone who is replaceable- but no one in the Curtis gang is replaceable, not by a long shot. That wasn’t the case back in New York.

Whatever. He’s done thinking about this now. He’s going to go back to the Curtis house and watch shit tv and maybe steal some food if the kitchen doesn’t look too skint this week. He is not going to think about kids who aren’t his problem (and yet completely are because he’d joined this stupid excuse of a gang and made them his problem in the first place), and he is going to stop being so fucking soft. Geez. If Tim could hear his thoughts right about now he’d lose just about all his street cred. 

Of course, because he’s Dallas Winston, and life has never thrown him a fucking bone in all seventeen years of his life on earth, his hopes for a peaceful afternoon are dashed the second he steps through the door. 

Darrel Curtis- six foot two, two hundred pounds of pure muscle, cool headed Darrel Curtis- is parked at the worn kitchen table, head in his hands, a water bill and something Dally is reasonably sure is property tax forms sitting in front of him.

 And he’s crying.

Darry Curtis doesn’t cry. In all the time Dally has known him, he’s never seen the guy so much as sniffle- not even at the funeral three months ago when Darry buried both parents in one horrible day. Soda had broken down immediately, and Pony had stared wide eyed, rivers of silent tears pouring down his cheeks- but Darry hadn’t. He’s crying now though, and not just a little bit either, huge gut wrenching sobs tearing from his mouth and shit Dallas doesn’t really know what to do. What he wants to do is pretend he never saw this, pretend it never happened and leave, let Darry have his well earned breakdown in the solitude he clearly believed he had. Of course, he would have had to have the foresight not to slam open the screen door for that to even be a possibility.

Darry jumps at the noise, shoulders squaring immediately, letting out one last sob that he could easily explain away as a gasp of surprise as he regains his barings. 

“Oh,” He clears his throat, valiantly trying to pretend like his eyes are bloodshot and his stubble covered cheeks covered in tear trcks, “hey Dal. There’s sandwich stuff in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

In that second he sounds so much like his mother that it punches Dally in the chest a little bit. Something about the ocean of feelings quickly locked behind a kind word and a carefully controlled expression is so reminiscent of Mrs. Curtis that Dally almost finds himself nodding a yes and escaping into the kitchen. He can’t though, because as much as Darry acts like her, he will never be his godlike mother. Instead, he is his kind hearted self, a twenty year old with the custody of two kid brothers he couldn’t bear to be separated from, and all the pressures of adult life most people don’t even start having to worry about until they’ve had time to really live. Mrs.Curtis had taken care of all of them, even Dally when everyone else only ever looked at him as a lost cause. Darry can’t do that though, can barely look out for Soda and Pony. Anyone with eyes can see how he’s been struggling since the funeral, nevermind the way Soda’s endless energy has turned anxious and resentful, grades slipping, while Pony gets quieter and moodier, a thirteen year old ticking time bomb. 

“You stay outta trouble for me Dallas,” Mrs. Curtis said to him once, “I know you ain’t a good boy but you’re a loyal one and sometimes that’s more important. So don’t go gettin’ yourself locked up for a bit, savvy? My boys need you more than they know.” 

She hadn’t just been talking about Darry, Soda, and Pony. The whole gang was Mrs.Curtis’ boys and everyone knew it, but Dally had held those words close to his heart more times than he could count, a balm on his perpetually blackened soul. Mrs.Curtis had known the score, known that goodness wasn’t the same thing as love, and she’d loved him anyhow- unconditionally and more than his own sorry excuse of a mom ever had. She’d trusted him too, never babied him or tried to fix him the way every other adult was always trying to, just patched him up when he got into trouble, and scolded him for not being smarter. You wouldn’t have survived this long if you were stupid Dallas, so don’t go pullin’ a stunt like this again. C��mon and git some dinner now, there's casserole in the fridge.

It would break her heart to see Darry like this now, so small and defeated, two things her eldest son was never meant to be. But she isn’t here right now, never will be again.

But Dally is.

My boys need you more than they know.

Damn Mrs.Curtis and her all knowing ways, because she knew what she was doing when she took him in because now he’s stuck with this stupid gang in this stupid town forever because she made him love her and love them all too.

“What’s goin’ on Darry?”

“Nothing,” Darry lies, fingers twitching a bit to pull the papers closer to him.

“I ain’t Soda, you don’t gotta lie to me like that.”

Shame twists his handsome features and he looks down, fidgeting with his high school ring.

“I don’t got enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Money Dallas,” he snaps, “I don’t get my first paycheck from that new job until next week, and both these are due on Friday. I bought groceries yesterday, and paid the hydro on Monday, no matter what I’m short.”

There’s such fear in his eyes. Dally remembers what the social workers said when Darry got custody, how militant they’re going to be checking up on him. One missed bill could have Soda and Ponyboy taken away before any of them could cry ‘unfair’.

My boys need you more than they know.

Dally can’t let that happen. It would kill Darry, Soda might go full crazy and Ponyboy…the kid was already sensitive. He’d never make it in a boy’s home. 

“How much?”

“What?” Darry blinks at him and Dally rolls his eyes. Darry Curtis has never been stupid, so he doesn’t know why he’s acting stupid now. 

“How much money do you need?”

“Four fifty.”

Dally winced. That was more than he had on him right now, more than he could get from Two-bit and Steve if he asked on the down low. None of them ever had that kind of scratch just lying around- unless Steve’s dad had recently paid him to come back home, but the old man had booted Steve out two days ago and chucked a bottle at him yesterday when he went back to grab spare clothes so they probably weren’t back to playing happy family yet, and likely wouldn’t be for  while.

Still. There’s other ways to get money.

My boys need you more than you know.

“Leave it to me.” Dally promises.

“No.” Darry shoots him down immediately,  “It ain’t your responsibility Dallas-”

“It ain’t all yours either.”

“That’s exactly what it is!”

“Are we a gang or not?” Dally glares, “I know you Curtis boys are wicked at acceptin’ help but like it or not you need it right now! I ain’t watchin’ the state take Soda an’ Pony away because of your fucking pride Darry!”

Darry stares at him a moment, eyes hard before he sighs, shoulders drooping, suddenly looking the same type of bone deep exhausted that is becoming an all too familiar look on him. 

“Just…don’t do anything illegal, ok? The boys can’t handle you bein’ locked up right now.”

For some reason the words sting. It’s true the gang’s all been a wreck since the Curtis parents died, but Dally is under no illusions as to his place in their ragtag little group. They survived well enough before him, and they’ve survived every time he’s been in the cooler since knowing them, and it won’t be any different if he gets locked up now.

He must have scoffed or something because Darry glares at him. “I mean it.”

Whether he’s talking about the gang needing him or about him not doing anything that could get him into trouble with the cops, Dally doesn’t stick around long enough to find out. Instead, he turns on his heel, a plan already forming in his mind.

Buck Merril is just about the most pigheaded cowboy Dally’s ever met in his life, but he’s always running about half a dozen money making scams at any point in time, and he jumps anytime Dally offers to help because he gets stuff done and keeps his trap shut good. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, working for a guy he hardly likes and doesn’t respect, but money is money and Darry needs money desperately right now so he swallows his pride and asks Buck what needs doing.

He ends up two towns over, at a rickety trailer park off the main road, two kilos of smack stashed under the seat of Buck’s car. He makes the drop, bullies the buyer who wasn’t willing to cough up Buck’s agreed upon price, and ignores the way his stomach twists at the way he just gave someone else the very thing that destroyed his sister’s life, a million years ago back in New York. 

Buck claps him on the shoulder when he gets back. Dally shoves him off, takes his cut of dirty money, and leaves before he can punch someone. 

Warm light spills out the window of the Curtis house when he gets there. Ponyboy is leaning against Johnny on the porch steps, smoking a cigarette and staring at the sky, Johnny murmuring something to him that the kid doesn’t seem to be really hearing. It’s frightfully domestic and frightfully sad, the bruise on Johnny’s cheekbone almost black in the dim evening light, Ponyboy looking so skinny and tired Dally has the urge to tell him to go to bed. He doesn’t of course- it’s not his place, and Pony isn’t his brother. Instead, he ruffles both kids' hair as he passes them, tells them to get inside so they’ll have enough folks for a round of poker, and goes to find Darry.

Darry’s in the kitchen, scrubbing purple mac’n’cheese off a saucepan when Dally finds him. He watches for a minute, sees the tension in Darry’s broad shoulders, the viciousness in the way he’s scrubbing the pan. Desperation, Dally knows Is all consuming, bleeding into every thought, every action, every facet of life. For all he’s a different kind of desperate, Darry Curtis is as desperate now as Dally himself is.

He spares a quick glance over his shoulder. Johnny and Pony have trooped inside, the latter robotically shuffling a deck of cards, while Soda and Johnny chat quietly. Steve is flipping through channels on the radio, and Two is nowhere to be found. None of them so much as glance at the kitchen. Good.

“Dar.” 

Darry jumps, turns. 

“Glory Dal, scare a man to death, why dontcha!”

He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t my fault you weren’t payin’ attention. Here.” He holds out an envelope, and Darry’s eyes light first in understanding, then in hope.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be offerin’ if I wasn’t.”

“Dal…”

“Take it,” He shakes the envelope, “before the others see.”

Hesitantly Darry reaches out, but as soon as his hands close around the paper he all but snatches it from Dally’s hand.

“Dal…I…thank you. I can’t tell you-”

“Whatever man,” Dally can feel the discomfort that comes anytime he is thanked or treated half decently raring in his chest, “I told you I’d take care of it and I meant it.”

“I’ll never be able to repay you for this.”

“It ain’t a loan, it’s just helpin’ out.”

“That’s not what I- nevermind,” Darry shakes his head, mouth twisting in a rueful half smile, “There’s dinner in the fridge, I made sure Soda saved you some.”

Dally fixes himself a plate, glaring down at pasta that was never meant to be purple, and he and Darry join everyone else in the living room. Johnny grins when he sees him, scooting closer to Ponyboy to make room on the sofa, and Steve steals the cards out of Pony’s hands to start dealing, having finally found a station playing half decent music. 

Dally eats his dinner and plays poker, pretending he doesn’t care half as much as he does when he loses. He wins half of Soda’s cigarettes and quickly loses them all to Johnny, pretending the feeling in his chest isn’t softer than anything he usually lets himself feel.

These boys don’t know it but they need him more than they know, and he’ll keep them safe. For Mrs, Curtis, but for himself too. 

After all, he’s always been a selfish bastard. 

[outsidersweek]

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Ponyboy Curtis, Curly, and Angela Shepard. Curly and Angela have dark skin. Ponyboy looks sad, Curly looks tough, and Angela looks thoughtful. End ID.

purly and purly anti

low-key was stuck on angel for a little but I settled on wanting her to look like a doll

angela is the only one here w good posture. I like to think the ribbons are old ribbons meant to be used on gift wrapping