#i am soooo normal about it :D | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puckpocketed · 2 months ago

Text

hello i was tagged by @18minutemajor for WIP Wednesday. it is not Wednesday but i am also not a cop so . here we gooo!!!!!!! tagging my esteemed colleagues (very politely and with no pressure!!!):

@neonfretra @oensible @sorrellegiance @moregraceful @stereax

@wheelsnipecelebrini

@korshrimpski (EDIT: it won’t?? let me tag you. unless these are on separate lines <3)

what's in-progress in your life <3 writing? art? recipe? skill acquisition?

if any crafty people see this - if ANYONE sees this - and would like to join in, feel free and consider yourself tagged <3 (and tag me back so i can see your stuff!!!) link to 18minutemajor's post if yall curious :3 my VERY long wip dump + ramblings under the cut!

its christmas soon and i like to paint gifts for my friends + and i'm finally revisiting my anime/lineart/inking era (here you are K!! my lineart past, present, and future!! <3) so here are some things i've been working on/coming back to/MAY NEVER FINISH: hockey related:

this is juraj slafkovsky and his dinky little middle part which he can absolutely learn to style into something a little less dinky but never does. i am so charmed by him. i imagine he just rocks it because his pretty privilege supersedes dinky middle parts . LMAO!!

here is Sasuke from my Naruto Hockey AU. I am a little stuck on jersey mockups lol. here he is. our haunted little 1OA who is absolutely normal and regular about his captain (LOUD incorrect buzzer):

personal oc art

wanna know some puckpocketed deep lore? i've never been one to make OCs. i was just not a very creative kid tbh. spent all my time drawing sailor moon instead. i still go back to her sometimes because she is one of my favourite shapes in the WORLD!!

in my 20s i took up playing d&d because of the. uh. plague. <3 and got pretty close to having OCs!! those count right? anyway. here is my tavern-wench-turned-wizard!!! i think i painted this 2 years ago? <- put dates on your works guys it saves lives. her name is Mel (short for Melins (pronounced like melons. on account of her knockers. can you tell i never grew out of my 12 yr old booby/cock joke era?) i revisited Mel recently and have started painting her in earnest again!! :3

I briefly dated someone who was very into streetwear and fashion, and I fell down a techwear/gorpcore/cyberpunk rabbit hole for a couple days out of curiosity. i remember literally zero salient info on any of it except the broad strokes of silhouetting and Vibes. what i emerged with, however, was a ?? sorta OC?? im not sure what to call them. they dont rly have a name or gender. I did this little sheet ages ago + the aborted attempt at a portrait later:

Here are my most recent explorations (i have been doing SOOOO much art. <3) which include:

unfinished character sheet + chibi art. I played with their jacket (much more structured/square/tailored thing) and added a lotta random buckles and belts. i took textiles class years ago and have a little experience in garment construction. and i know for a fact this thing does not make any sense. it hurts me to look at a little bit LMAO so i've paused it while i go draft patterns (badly. i was never good at drafting. i think i may have to break out my scrap fabric stash and hand sew a real life mock-up. HELP!)

here is me having fun with them and imagining them as some kind of cyber-fisherman. the best part of every game is the fishing mini-game to me. i love fishing mini-games so much. I made their hair really big because i wanted them to have big unwieldy hair and the vibes told me i should add more movement to the piece aside from the fishing line. I messed with their jacket AGAIN because i can't stop thinking about what kinda jacket they'd wear. gorp-core ? idk. it sure is something!

gifts for my friends :3

back in my weeb era for real YAYYYY!!! up til now i'd been making hockey art using a zero pressure sensitivity pen brush because i simply did NOT want to deal with that. it is and has always been a barrier to me making art that uses line art. <3 easing my way back into it though!

I used to paint gifts for my friends and then get them printed into lil posters and mount them on nice backing :3 i am now ready and back to painting.

Here is my girlbestie's OC. just a rough pose sketch. i think im pretty unsatisfied with the gesture of the head/hand. i wanted to include her gun in some way. i fear i may have to rework the pose entirely <3

For the genshin girlies.. here are some of my friends fave characters.

Yelan - this one i started many holidays ago and put on the backburner because the colouring was wigging me out. you can see where i started rendering stuff + got sidetracked and started on something else (the crystal choker IM LAUGHING @ past me...)

Ayaka - I reaaally like what i did here with the perspective + foreshortening. I don't know if the pose or expression is in-character or not, but i had fun :3 got stunlocked looking at references of genshin weapons so this is where i left off:

if you made it all the way down here hi... <3 ice hockey really cracked the ketchup bottle open for me when it comes to making art again. i love the communities i've found, and i'm inspired by every artist on here every day. thanks for being so cool + have a great day :)

#hiiii... late with starbucks (gigantic wip dump now i feel good about sharing again)#puckpainting #tag game #eye contact #the . the tag thingy for half of these aint working HELP <3

20 notes · View notes

ynisreal · 1 year ago

Text

wires (1) - michael afton x reader

author´s note: i posted this on AO3 and thought, since i read a LOT of fanfiction in here as well, why not post here too? soooo here is my lil contribuition :D summary: A reader-insert in which you work as a security guard at Sister Location and you start to feel a little too drawn to the night security guard. Or Michael has already been scooped and can't get out of the establishment, becoming the night security guard. So the only entertainment he has is the cute daytime security guard who is a bit clumsy.

Chapter One

Since the incident that ended Michael's life, he hasn't been able to leave the same place where death found him. Fazbear Sister Location has become his home, not so comfortable, but it works for him. Michael knows that he won't be able to live a normal life in the state he's in, purple and ever-falling skin, exposed bones and black eyes. No longer alive. The animatronics who did this to him, including his sister, decided to let his body decompose in an alley, and he had no choice but to crawl to the place where he took his last breath.

He didn't blame his sister, far from it, he knew she was trying to protect herself and couldn't recognize her own brother's face. Imagine being so blinded by anger and fear that you can't recognize your sibling. Well, he knows he can blame the shitty father they both had for recent events. That was already a relief in his chest. Michael already carried a lot of guilt in his heart, he didn't need any more of it.

The days were monotonous. Henry came to visit one day or another, always with clothes in hand and a few items from Mike's place to comfort the undead. Michael was grateful for Henry, knowing that the poor man was still struggling with the grief of his own daughter, so he helped Michael in any way he could, welcoming him like the child he had lost. They talked, Henry hoping that he could build something to help Michael live normally again, which they both knew was unlikely. There was no going back, he had lost his life, now a ghost in his own rotting body.

Michael was now in charge of the establishment, forever a security guard who worked night and day shifts. Every hour of his day was spent walking the corridors, watching the same movies on the old television Henry had installed for him, cleaning the same toilets and reading any book or magazine he could find in the staff room.

"The other employees of the company are beginning to question why this establishment is still empty," Henry continues. Michael, who had been lost in his thoughts, returned to paying attention to what his father's former friend was saying. "Apparently, they want to start a bigger project on this site, and they need the place intact, so they're pressing to have a security guard here for when the construction company comes."

Oh yes, Michael wasn't officially the security guard. He was only officially dead.

"Create a false identity for me and I can take care of security," Michael shrugged, looking at the older man in front of him, "The establishment would be under observation all hours of the day, after all, I can't get out of here," he tried to make a joke, but neither he nor Henry seemed to find it funny.

"What about when the staff arrive to redesign the place during the day? Are you going to serve them little cups of coffee and cookies looking like that?" Henry says dryly. Ouch, that pained Michael. He knows what he was suggesting was a bit insane, the day shift would be impossible to avoid being spotted.

"Okay, so you're going to put a security guard on the day shift, and what about me? Am I going to beg him not to tell the others about me?" Michael replies in the same way, a little frustrated that the solution was so simple and yet so impossible at the same time: he just had to get out of here.

"No," Henry replies, "You stay hidden."

Michael doesn't answer the older man. He knows Henry is right, but it's so unfair to go through what he's been through and have to live in hiding. In the same shadows that those who killed him live in. His whole life was built on injustice, the death of his brother, the constant running away from his father, the terror the poor children suffered, his own death and what came after it. Injustice was no stranger to Michael, so he accepts what his reality will become in the coming days. Spending the day hiding in the small back room, locked up like an animal, until night comes and he is able to roam not so freely around the establishment where he died.

Great.

Henry gave Michael one last hug, saying he would be back in the next few days to bring the younger man some comfort items, promising to bring him some interesting new movies or books. Honestly, Henry knows that no movie or book would improve the situation of the man he considered his own son, but he had to play with the pieces he had.

The next two days passed in the same way as the others, Henry visiting, mopping the same floors, watching the same movies and reading the same magazines. On the third day, Henry had warned him that the new security guard would be arriving at 6 o'clock in the morning. She was apparently a woman a little younger than Mike, desperate to find a job to help support her younger sister. Henry described you as a sweet, quiet woman, who certainly won't bring any more problems into Michael's life. Mike sighed in relief.

The day began with Michael quickly locking the door to the room he was in. It was a spare back room used to store the remains of the animatronics that had escaped and other old things from other establishments, making it spacious enough for him to put a mattress on the floor and the small television that Henry had installed. Genuinely, it was the best Michael could ask for in this situation.

He hears you entering the main hall, the little-used doors making a loud noise down the corridors. He also hears that the sound of the doors startles you, causing you to let out a nervous yelp, which puts a small smile on Michael's face. If you are that easily frightened, perhaps it wasn't the best option to work in a place with a reputation as dirty and shady as Fazbear Entertainment's establishments.

You really had been startled by the loud noise from the doors, not expecting a noise assault at this time of the morning. It's 6 a.m. and you've barely slept, a little bit spooked by the rumors your little sister told you when you revealed where you were going to work. She was only 10, but she didn't seem to be afraid of anything, creating a hard shell after so many years of watching you deal with the difficulties of studying, working and looking after her at the same time. Your sister looked up to you, and wanted to help you in any way she could, so she didn't seem like a child at times. Some nights you were relieved that she was so mature, but soon you regretted it, feeling ignorant for not having been able to give her a normal childhood.

Your father threw your mother out of the house when he found out about her constant lovers, which led to you being thrown out too. You had nothing to do with what your mother did, you were just a child, which is why you loathe your father to this day. Your mother wasn't much help either, getting pregnant with your little sister a short time later, by a random man she met in the bar. She didn't make an effort to look after you or your sister, so it didn't surprise you to wake up one day and see her goodbye note with lunch money inside.

You walk through the main hall impressed by how clean it was. Oh well, the last security guard must have constantly cleaned everything. You think as you reach for the switch to turn on the lights, already reaching for the map you'd been given during your interview, explaining each room and what you had to do during your shift. It consisted of looking at the cameras to prevent intruders, keeping an eye on the employees who were going to redesign the establishment and locking the doors when either they or you leave, so that the night security guard could take over the next shift.

However, after looking at the clean and tidy state in which the last security guard left the corridors and rooms, you felt guilty for not keeping them clean too, wanting to maintain the hard work he had put in. As you sat down in the chair in the control room, you turned on the monitors to watch the cameras and wait for the architects who had said they would arrive today, placing a small napkin under your coffee cup to avoid staining the wood of the table. You´re welcome, last security.

The first few hours of your workday pass quietly, even a little tediously, as you stare at the screens in front of you, feeling your eyes burn at the image of empty corridors and stages just as blank. The sweet man who had interviewed you had told you about the transfer of the animatronics, but unfortunately for him, you had learned from a young age to spot when older people were lying to you. Whether it was intuition or pure coincidence, you had realized that he wasn't telling you the real reason why there were no animatronics on stage at the moment, and, combined with your sister's stories, you found yourself a little wary, not taking your eyes off the monitors.

"We're here, Y/n, open up here," you were startled by the sudden voice coming from the radio the company had given you, recognizing that it was the architects who had arrived on the scene. "Okay, I'll be right there," you reply almost immediately, getting up to walk to the main hall. The architects had already gone up the elevator and were standing behind the main door, waiting for you to unlock it.

"Wow, that door makes a loud fucking noise," the man wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase said when you opened the doors, his voice sounding frantic. You flinched at the sound of such a rude voice ruining the silence you'd been in for hours. He was accompanied by a shorter woman, who was in more casual clothes and carrying too many materials for her small arms to hold. "You must be the new security guard," the architect in the suit looked at you, his tone not at all inviting.

"Yes, my name is-" you stop your sentence when you see that he hasn't waited for your answer, and instead started walking down the hall with a small notebook now in hand, leaving the briefcase at your feet.

You allow your mouth to drop into an expression of surprise, looking down at the briefcase at your foot, waiting to be picked up in your arms. "Sorry, Mr. Noah had a bad day," the woman in front of you says, a nervous smile on her face, trying to make up for what her boss was doing, "My name is Alice." She tries to extend her hand to greet you, but some of the materials she was holding fall to the floor.

You bend down to pick up what had fallen and the briefcase that was still on your feet. "My name is Y/n," you reply, still incredulous at the whole situation, helping Alice carry the materials and the briefcase, realizing how difficult it was to keep everything in just two hands. Wow, this woman has been carrying this around all day?. Alice starts to follow her boss, Noah, when she hears him call out, a little annoyed that his things had fallen. You had no choice but to follow her, going after the man who was so caught up in his own ego to notice his own actions.

You showed the map to both of them, taking them to the rooms they wanted to see. The two of them worked in a frustrating dynamic, with Noah constantly making observations and critiques of the establishment's architecture, coming up with ideas for the new attraction and who they should call in to help with the redesign, and Alice writing down every word that came out of the rude man's big mouth. You grew increasingly tired of the architect's voice, already exhausted from going back and forth to the hall where they had left the materials to bring some item he needed.

Noah seemed satisfied with his ideas when it started to get dark, as he finally shut up and, without warning, started walking towards the exit of Ballora's Gallery, calling Alice to follow him. Once again, you had no choice but to go after them both, the stress and tiredness already getting to you, but relieved that they seemed to be leaving. You open the doors for both of them, returning the small nod and smile that Alice gave you before disappearing into the elevator.

When you lock the door, you pull up the sleeves of your uniform to check the time. It was 5 o'clock in the afternoon, one hour before your workday ended and that of the night security guard would begin. A tired sigh escapes your lips as you quickly close your eyes, imagining your warm bed and the plate of food waiting for you at home. Man, I just want this first day to be over. You've been on your nerves all day, with Noah's absurdly annoying voice and your fear of the stories you've heard, your body going rigid every time you heard some strange noise.

Your legs practically carry you into the control room, dumping you into the chair, feeling the relief of letting your leg muscles rest from having stood too long watching Alice and Noah work. You adjusted your spine to rest against the back of the uncomfortable chair, prepared to spend the final hour letting the monitor screens burn your retina once again. But your body seemed to have another idea: as soon as you leaned your head against the palm of your hand, your eyes began to feel heavy, and with every second that passed, they felt heavier and heavier. At some point, you blinked and didn't open your eyes again, letting your head fall into your own arms and falling asleep on the control desk.

It's already 6 o'clock, why hasn't she left yet? Michael wondered when he didn't hear your footsteps or the doors closing. He had learned your name today, Y/n, several times hearing a female voice, which sounded like one of the employees who had visited today, call you by it. Alice and Noah were the employees. The constant "Yes, Mr. Noah" in a shy, nervous tone still burned his ears. It felt strange to hear so much commotion in the place he had lived quietly for a while, at least he liked your voice. Michael could hear your brief explanations of the features of each room, a really sweet voice like Henry had described. You spoke politely, even though your tone seemed irritated when you answered the arrogant man, you still expressed yourself calmly and with good manners.

Michael kept wondering how you managed to behave so calmly even though there was clear irritation in your voice. He was always the opposite, letting his emotions get the better of him, getting into unnecessary fights as a teenager, and not improving much as a young adult. His investigation with Henry helped him create a focus in his life after his brother's death and his father's crimes, centering his anger and violence on avenging those who had suffered at the hands of his father. So if it were him in your shoes today, Noah would probably have left the establishment with more than a black eye.

It was close to 6:30 and he still hadn't heard any sign of your departure. Michael immediately began to worry: Had the animatronics come back? Had you hurt yourself on an exposed wire? Had you gotten lost in a random room? As the minutes ticked by, Michael's worries grew louder and louder; he genuinely couldn't bear another death on his hands due to carelessness or negligence. With anxiety almost making him deaf, once again letting his emotions take over his consciousness, Michael tucks the "Security" vest into his hoodie, pulling the hood over his head, and opens the door of the room where he was hiding. He had to make sure you were all right, not wanting another person to die for this miserable franchise. You were almost his age and your sister was waiting for you at home, so you needed to be okay.

Michael walked quickly through the corridors that he had memorized in his mind, heading for the control room, knowing that the security guards were tasked with looking at the same monitors he already looked at. To his surprise, you weren't dead or lost, in fact, you were asleep. Little sighs escaped your lips, showing how tiring your first day had been, which made Michael smile slightly. How he missed being able to meet up with other people, only having Henry's company. And he was grateful that this lack of contact was broken by the sight of you lying on the control desk, a few strands of hair scattered over the controls, leaving your face visible to Michael's eyes. You were beautiful, Michael noticed, young and pretty, some features tired by the probable weight of looking after your sister alone. Perhaps in another life, he would have asked for your number in a bar or asked you out on a date. In another life, he wouldn't be cursed by his father's crimes and still alive. This last thought seemed to wake Michael from his daydream, and he quietly stepped away from the chair, going to hide behind the shadows that the corridors were creating, not wanting to be seen.

"Good night," he says in a loud, hoarse tone. This seems to surprise you, as you stand up wide-eyed and in a defensive position, letting a small yelp come out of your mouth. You rub your eyes, your tiredness immediately leaving your body to answer whoever was calling you. Your eyes scan the control room, finding no one, until your gaze meets the tall figure at the door. It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, his hood hid his face and his hands were in his pockets. You couldn't make out who he was or any trace of him, only the silhouette of a stranger in the shadows. From his voice and what the shadows let you see of his body, he seemed to be about your age, his shoulders broad and the sleeves of his jacket a little too tight around his biceps.

"Your shift is over," the man's shadow speaks again. You roll up the sleeves of your uniform to look at the time. Shit, it's almost 7 o'clock at night. Your eyes widen and your cheeks turn red, embarrassed at being caught sleeping on the job. Michael had to hold back the smile that wanted to grow, finding your reaction incredibly cute. You really were very beautiful, it was nice to see someone so beautiful after so long looking only at the floorboards and the cleaning products. If this was the last time he would have human contact, he was more than satisfied.

"Shit, I'm so sorry-" You quickly say, collecting your things from the table and tossing them rapidly into your backpack, which was leaning against the corner of the room. "I'm leaving, I'm really sorry," you repeated as you slipped the straps over your shoulders and walked towards the door. Michael sank a little further into the shadows, letting you pass him and start walking towards the front door. Although your steps were quick, you noticed as you passed him the difference in height that was made, the man had a remarkable presence, being much taller than you, with wide arms and a thick voice. You blushed a little more.

Michael wanted to follow you, take you to the door and extend the moment a little longer, not wanting the first human contact he had after such a long time to be so brief. He wanted more time to engrave your face. But he didn't follow you, he didn't want to risk being seen. He wasn't expecting you to suddenly stop in your tracks, turning your body towards him, with a shy smile on your face.

"Hm, good evening and good work..." You waited for the man in the shadows to respond with his name. Michael let his eyes wander down your body, the security uniform fitting your curves beautifully. Thank you for this last gift, whatever entity is up there listening to me.

"Michael," he replied, his voice a little less dry, a smile invisible to you taking over the man's features. You really wouldn't be any trouble for him, as Henry had said.

You crack a smile, raising your hand to wave goodbye to the night security guard.

"Y/n," you respond.

#fnaf #fnaf movie #michael afton #michael afton x reader #michael afton fanfic #scooped michael #fnaf fanfic #fnaf x reader #michael afton x you #fnaf michael afton #five nights at freddys

108 notes · View notes

sanest-bsd-delegate · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I just saw your recent dazai x reader post and saw that the request is open soooo I want to request something.

Uhh if by any chance you know Tokyo revengers could you do Reader as Emma Sano? Dazai as Draken and Ranpo as Mikey like the scenario takes place during the prison arc and the vampire thingy and during that time Reader died the same way Emma Sano died and she was killed by Fukuchi in order to weaken the ADA and Dazai was informed by Ango about her death , you know just some good ol angst ehehehehe. I hope this request somehow makes sense and Thank you in advance! 🥰(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Last Soul

Summary: They swear as they see, she will be the last soul they will sacrifice for the battle. Dazai x Fem!Reader ft Ranpo's SisterMasterlist Tysm for the request! I have watched tr a little and I mainly surfed the web, Hope this doesn't disappoint you, I tried to co-relate both the scenarios as close as possible! Hope this fulfill your request

Atsushi and Y/N were on the way escaping Fukuchi, Akutagawa helped them escape, but on a cost of what? His life.

Everything was spinning and going to fast. They merely escaped the attacks by Fukuchi. Y/N couldn't help out much except for the fact she didn't contribute much of defense and combat skills.

She was didn't own any ability, just like her brother Ranpo, who was too denial to say he didn't own one too.

They were running through the forest with Poe's book in hand which had her brother trapped.

This was going to much for her, she wanted to live normally for god sake.

It happened so fast.

One moment she was beside Atsushi running away, and the next moment her body lied on the ground beside where Atsushi stood.

She was injured by Fukuchi's sword.

It came ripping through the thin air, and before either of those two could react, the sword pierced through her body and Y/N could react nothing but cough blood as she fell down in the pool of blood that was hers.

Ranpo didn't know what to say

He came out of the book solving the mystery to see his sister, lying on the ground as Atsushi stood still. He caught the light of the sword that reflected in his eyes, knowing damn well what had happened. He dropped on his knees as his body weakened to see his sister's body on the ground.

"Atsushi What happened...?"

"I AM SORRY RANPO-SAN THE SWORD JUS-JUST CAME THROUG-GH AND-D"

"ATSUSHI PICK HER UP WE NEED TO REACH YOSANO......DONT WORRY Y/N"

Ranpo was beyond angry.

Y/N seemed to gain conciseness when they reached near the base, and Ranpo was relieved a little, but his happiness didn't seemed to last long as she took her last breathe almost saying 'take care' right at the entrance, smiling.

Silence.

That was what could they all hear. Eyes diluting, tears streaming down as a silence scream escaped Ranpo, as he stared at his sister, who's soul completely slipped her body, which now was dropped on the ground, where Atsushi regained his human form.

" Tell me this a sick joke you pull Y/N, You know Dazai Loves you back right? Y/N-" Ranpo said, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"Y/N please, wake up you wanted to start a family right? With Dazai, and you even thought so far on picking the colours of the walls for your kid, Please Y/N, you cant throw away all of this you cant-" Ranpo's voice cracked, as he held his sister's body in denial.

Atsushi could only place a hand on ranpo's shoulder as a sign of comfort, unsure of the next motive of either parties.

Ango, Who watched the scene unfold, didn't say much but still shed a tear, knowing well he had to be professional in the battlefield.

Now the problem for Ango was, to convey this message to Dazai.

As the usual time passed, Ango sat once again to decode and code the messages between him and Dazai

Sending the coded Message to Dazai, Ango could only hope that this doesn't change the direction of the war.

Dazai didn't know how to react.

Y/N L/N was dead. The Y/N who he spent time with, who actually cared for him other than his late friend Odasaku , and The Y/N who he never confessed his love to.

"Say Dazai, didn't you hear it yet?" Fyodor smiled, who sat across him in another cube smiling wickedly seeing his enemy in denial.

"If this didn't exist, I would have made sure you didn't see another day" Dazai announced as his head slowly raised up and you could see the maniac beast he held close rise up, little by little just like it had when he made his first kill.

"I will make sure you pay the prize of this act Fyodor Dostoevsky, she will be the last soul sacrificed for this battle."

Help i went through my notes the other day for this request and

Welcome Dazai Sazai

185 notes · View notes

prince-liest · 9 months ago

Note

The specific phrasing of “hurt very pretty” is. I knew before this series I was more into the soft sadism/dom thing but it’s soooo rare to find someone who does the exact flavor I’m into and I think that phrase in my head sooooo often

Ahaha, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I've always really liked, as you describe it, soft sadism, where it's about the intimacy, the connection, and the sort of delightfully recursive loop you get when the suffering is enjoyed, and the enjoyment of the suffering also contributes to the suffering, whether it be via enthusiasm or humiliation. Funnily enough, despite the kind of stuff that I write, S&M that feels genuinely callous and miserable is fully capable of squicking me if it hits just wrong. I really like writing sadism that feels tender, even when it's violent.

Five more asks under the cut! If you sent something about 666 in the past 24-ish hours, it's probably there!

Your newest channel 666 fic had me so mixed on how to feel "Oh ok they're drunk and Al's on his lap... that wasn't in the tags oh no vox isn't advancing... nevermind he's electrocuting Al, i get it, a little something to get the blood pumping oh no wait he's actually electrocuting him oh good lord he's screaming in pain"

Hahaha, god, tagging this chapter was really a fucking nightmare - if there's anything you think I missed that's important to include, PLEASE let me know, because I tried to cover my bases but I really had to give up after a bit. It's just One Of Those Chapters and the first time I've used the Graphic Violence archive warning for something that was just fully consensual sexy times, haha. I hope it was at least enjoyable overall! Alastor certainly had a good time.

I've binged your 666 series and it irreversibly changed my brain chemistry It's more canon than everything that happened in the show itself to me - @grimfeywizard

Ahhhh, thank you so much! >:D I definitely tried to mimic the style of canon for the characters, especially for the first installments before they kinda went their own way character development wise, haha. I'm glad you like it!! <3

I was at a convention all weekend and when you updated BOTH times I snuck out of my group and into a corner to read them I am completely obsessed with this series 🙏🙏🙏 -@urlocal-cryptid7

Omg, glad to add the cherry on top of your con experience, hahaha. Thank you so much!!

hey there, just wanted to say i’m absolutely enraptured with the 666 series! it’s absolutely amazing and one of my favorite fics out there right now. i’m always looking forward to it and checking for updates, great work!!!!

Ahhhh, thank you for the kind words!! I'm really enjoying writing it in all of its weirdnesses, so it's always so nice to hear that people are enjoying the odd directions it goes!

Another fun radiostatic song: The Masochism Tango by Tom Lehrer - @butwhyaretheycalledstrawberries

This is 100% what I had playing in the car on repeat when I wrote one of the previous installments, hahaha. It's a fantastic radiostatic song, especially with the level of sadomasochism I write into 666.

(Anon who was awaiting the drunk Alastor shenanigans here) Me, pre-installment 8 of 666: Oh My God, it’s happening. Everybody STAY CALM- Me, post-installment 8 of 666: *ugly sobbing* it was everything i could ever hope for, your honor. The Prince(TM) is good and merciful. So yeah, expectations met as always 👍

Omg, ehehehe - drunk Alastor was honestly SO fun to write, because it's just... taking away a lot of his worries and inhibitions, and the behaviors that normally accompany them. I took what Mimzy said about him being a kitten when he's had a few drinks and lets loose and ran with it, and it turned out very enjoyable. I'm glad you also had a good time reading, hahaha!

#ask #personal #Anonymous #nsft #grimfeywizard #urlocal-cryptid7 #butwhyaretheycalledstrawberries #t

33 notes · View notes

mecachrome · 1 year ago

Note

extremely 👀👀 about this kind/nice spectrum u brought up and how alex oscar lando and anyone else on the grid are placed on the grid..... would love to know more.........

hi there!!! :D omg yes i would love to talk more about this, though of course disclaimer that these are my Personal Interpretations and i love to spout nonsense on the internet LOL. i'll just expand on oscar + lando + alex some more since frankly i don't know all the other driver lore Like That and i don't want to overstep in my analysis! also i'm deathly afraid of chirlies. ok let's move on

to start off... i think the way we talk about celebrity personas obviously requires some generalization + projection since we can only extrapolate what is already being consciously disseminated, and so although i frequently talk about the kind/nice dichotomy or someone's capacity for sympathy vs. empathy (which is kind of a parallel assessment imo) we are of course all complex people who contain multitudes, and i think it's mostly just interesting to examine strictly in the context of racing & racing mentality... if that makes sense!

also wrt landoscar's personalities → one thing i feel very, VERY strongly about despite their differing surface-level interests and social profiles (read: different flavors of off-track sports, both of them being gamers but to diverging levels of visibility, lando's higher degrees of hyperfixation, etc.) is that at their baseline they are extremely similar people, and honestly even very similar drivers and racing "characters," which ultimately kind of colors most of my analysis. if we peel back the layers then oscar and lando are both functional introverts who've been very well-nurtured by similarly robust, persisting, and loyal support systems—oscar spending 99% of his time off-track with his longtime gf, lando's best mates all being from his karting days, their dads being equally objective about yet also supportive of their careers, jon having trained lando since he was like 5 feet tall, etc.—so to me the overarching difference is that they have diametric approaches to how they externalize their convictions, and then obviously since that's what we see/hear day in & day out it generates the existing rift between their media images. per lando on btg:

"Oscar is extremely down to earth. A bit like me, just a very normal guy who's in Formula 1, just a guy that loves to drive cars and compete against people, and that's it."

(incoming egregious amounts of lando psychoanalysis...) despite oscar being the only driver i truly rep, i've always found lando's psyche soooo fascinating because he invites such extreme emotion in people (be it positive or negative), and i think part of it does go back to the idea of being nice vs. kind and ultimately the lens through which his intentions are interpreted by other people. in real-people fandom this is always interesting since it ends up becoming an unconscious exercise in how we perceive "sincerity" in others, even though the underlying paradoxical truth is obviously that any such assessment must always be dispersed and consolidated via a parasocial system (and thus everything is held relative to our own individual value systems... This is totally not the point of the ask. SORRY FOR THE MILLION TANGENTS) anyway as an extremely disillusioned sports fan i actually have a lot of time for lando despite how much visceral judgment he generates in quite a few people, which is totally fair since everyone is fully privy to feeling however they want to feel about any celebrity and i am not here to convince them otherwise lol. but that's just me!

i think to me the thing about lando is that there is almost zero pretense to his character, which some dislike because they find his bluntness off-putting, but imo just means his intentions are generally straightforward and easily digestible. sure, he lacks the spoken filter to not come off as occasionally callous, but at the end of the day i genuinely believe that he's an inherently thoughtful (and "kind") person, especially within the insular system of professional motorsport and the many mental pitfalls that accompany it. a symptom of this is how willing he is to resist more gracious media responses and how very inwardly critical he can be in specifically self-motivating ways, the latter of which sometimes gets misinterpreted due to the rigid yet overwhelmingly popular framework of what constitutes a competitive racing mentality. but like... to Me, lando is just entirely what you see is what you get, bad parts included, and he has zero intention of making excuses for that or pretending to be anything otherwise. which i enjoy!

and which again also goes back to the idea of niceness. (honestly the tl;dr for most of lando's pr scandals is just Oh okay so it's illegal to be neurodivergent now? but i'm trying to be normal so let me not just say that.) a good example is the entire debacle of saying he felt no sympathy for daniel at mclaren in 2022, because i think it elucidates a sort of kindness in objectivity that he very plainly participates in—to lando, being a top-performing athlete means never searching for excuses to soften the brunt of one's failures, himself included, and equally that there is no point playing sorry in front of journalists or trying to reshape their narrative scrutiny since at the highest level of competition any bold-faced externalization of "sympathy" is really just pity. and what point is there in telling someone else that you Feel Bad for their skill issue/struggles when the moment you extend that sentiment you essentially debase their position as a direct competitor and therefore disrespect them even more?

"I want to be the best in the world, I want to prove myself to people. But I've never had the mentality or the confidence to say that or feel like I need to do anything more than normal to show it to people. Do I have to do anything to go over the top and show that to prove it? I don't think so. People say you've got to be brutal and you've got to have this certain mentality. But I just don't think it's true at all. I think you’ve just got to get in the car and do the best you can."

i think the Separation of Church (treating everyone exactly as they are on-track, just another car to size up or keep at bay) and State (being friendly, supportive, and altogether well-regarded by other drivers off-track) is a primary tenet of lando's personality, and it's something he achieves by valuing kindness over niceness. you know the lando/maxf quadrant interview where lando is like: i'm not friends with you because of your achievements in life... i just care about your personality! and he's mainly saying it to take the piss out of him but he also 100% does mean that shit. that's the crasyinsane part about lando to me... god i'm so sorry i need to not go on for a million years but PERSONALLY, i think lando is very much the type of person who can go through an experience, or otherwise see someone close to him go through an experience, and approach it very empathetically to the point he continues carrying on this internal conviction about it even when he's survived or grown past it. like even as someone who mostly believes in Death to Relatable Marketing, i find it really interesting when lando talks about mental health in sports because we get to see both a) the fact that he's grown so much in his own mental resilience from his rookie self in 2019 to who he is now, but also b) that he continues to believe strongly in rejecting the presumed archetype of a successful formula 1 driver, and is steadfast in surfacing that even though... honestly? lando nowadays is a very consistent, well-rounded, and efficient talent who frankly doesn't experience nearly as much of the unproductive mentally-spiraling self-criticism that used to impact his performances to a far more pronounced degree when he was younger and rough around the edges. yet he still feels compelled to affirm that there is No One way to be an athlete (which is significant because "mentality" is such a harped-on concept in all sports, and everyone is always trying unfailingly to extrapolate performance-related projections via vague and completely subjective intangibles to a notably unempirical degree!!) because he does care, deeply, about how people enter and succeed in motorsport. honestly i always feel kind of iffy bringing up commentary re: Women In Motorsport because it often sounds unnecessarily adulatory, but at least in recent times i think he's also shown a decent amount of grace when talking about female fans, girls in karting, that one time he was like Bruh who are you? @ that misogynistic reporter, which...... i'm not going to say majorly influences my opinion of him, but imo being willing to quickly shut someone down like that is an anti-niceness to a productive end that i appreciate, since i think many personalities would kind of just smile bemusedly and try to quickly move on in the conversation.

tl;dr lando thinks feeling bad for people is useless and will never give you that one tidy sympathetic soundbite, but he does care for people vividly, especially off-track, which to him is the only place kindness really matters anyway. when you look at maxf (and i know this is mainly a portrait of codependency unique to their friendship but i do think it reflects his love languages in general) whose career cratered because he mentally couldn't handle the pressure, lando's response was literally to unfailingly engage in failcore househusband chores for him like leaving handwritten notes in his 3rd grade girl handwriting and ironing his clothes on stream........ which... i could go on forever but again. separation of church and state!!!

anyway with oscar on the other hand, i honestly think most things in his life kind of just exist as a function of motorsport LOL. and that he likes surrounding himself with people of similar interests/intellectual level/skillsets, down to his partner studying engineering and wanting to work in the same industry as him....... again, i think 814's baseline characters are Very similar and that they're both great team players with complementary professional approaches, so this is not a knock on either of their personalities, but imo lando is just generally more outwardly sentimental and has also had to do a lot of conscious growing up in the past ~4 years to become more well-rounded wrt off-track interests, whereas oscar basically came onto the grid as this already fully-realized product with far fewer dependencies who is just nonchalantly like, I see my family 3 weeks a year and my sisters just think i'm their lame older brother and don't care about my career at all, but i'm fine with that and i'd make all the same sacrifices i've made over and over again to get where i am!!! also re: oscar's abject lack of interest in engaging with fans one-on-one, an easy example is how lando genuinely values/treasures the friendship bracelets he gets and wears them consistently whereas oscar is just like. Erm. i respect it but that is not for me ✋😭 he's nice about fan things because he understands how much fan support and consumerist interest enable the circus that is formula 1 but he doesn't really value any of it much past the surface-level pleasantries......

why is this answer so long............... idk if you want to hear anything more about alex but i think he's very similar to oscar in terms of this measured external niceness/quiet ruthlessness, especially wrt how they weather team politics, interact with media (noted red bull marketing hater alex albon), and tend to simply Do The Thing To Do The Thing. alex is especially interesting because if you watch his high performance pod it reveals sooooo much of his growth over the years and his current mental framework ("i was having to be selfless, and it didn't really agree with me that much") and frankly even just the way he speaks about himself is fascinating to me but i digress!!! i do think much of lando's tactless impulse yet also apparent kindness comes from his considerably privileged background and the fact that he was shown a lot of Realistic But Also Unconditional Support and thus never had his career actively threatened growing up. so even though he's had to learn to not mentally catastrophize at the f1 level, he didn't undergo the reckoning alex did with his mother/losing rb's team backing/etc., which alex mentions in this podcast as specifically triggering his insatiable desperation to prove himself.......... and so on. alex and oscar to me are both quite similar in how they let more combative thoughts simmer and are very well-trained in responding palatably to the media, but they're also going to resist relating themselves too much to other people's struggles because That Is Not Their Problem, and at the end of the day oscar is uh.... sure he has a lot of appreciation for mclaren and has called prema a family before, but he really only wants to win for himself and is less inclined than lando is to romanticize the spirit of the Team. and so when he says things like "for me, there’s just not any point, especially in self-deprecation, destroying yourself in front of the media," it's a Niceness because his assessments are always entirely self-absorbed in the most productive of senses, as in he truly only cares about what he himself is doing and is never going to waste time worrying about or comparing himself to his competitors' mental approaches!

does any of this make sense. please excuse the monstrous rambling 😭 but also please feel free to follow up with your own takes/lore about any driver if you'd like to, or to tell me that i'm absolutely wrong if you'd like, because i always love to hear about these things!!! :3c

#ask #i did not mean to psychoanalyze lando like That i'm so sorry...

46 notes · View notes