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mumms-the-word · 3 days ago

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Mumms do you know of any fics where inqui lavellan gets sent back in time to the times of arlathan? So far I've found one but it was before lavellan was the inqui 😔

My original answer was that no, I don't know of any but then I was like....I'm a master at googling and research. I can FIND some.

So I went down a rabbit hole of procrastinating stuff I'm supposed to do and instead scanned AO3 works tagged "ancient arlathan" and I found a few fics that seem to have both Ancient Arlathan and Time Travel. Idk if they’re exactly what you’re looking for and I haven't read any of them because the deadlines are deadlining me rn (some may be AWESOME, some may not be your vibe) but I figured I’d link them anyway!

(And if you happen to be the writer for any of these then you're welcome for some free advertising haha)

In Another World - The Fade exists in all times and all places. If there is a way to change the Dread Wolf's heart, Carys Lavellan thinks she'll find it there. She finds more than she expected.

my notes: ao3 summary is a bit vague but this fic is about a post-DAI Inquisitor who gets tossed back into Ancient Arlathan times. easily the longest fic on the list and the stats show that it is VERY popular. even a quick scan has me intrigued!

Sulena Nadas'din - In the wake of Corypheus’ defeat, Ellana Lavellan is given no chance to celebrate her victory for the orb Solas sought lay broken at their feet and the man vanished from her view… Before she, too, vanished from the Inquisition’s sights. When she awoke, she found herself in a strange time, where castles float in the skies, and gods roam the land. She has fallen into the hands of the Dread Wolf who wears the mask of Pride, and must find a way to win his favor to make her way home. If only it were so simple.

my notes: another fic with promising stats, it's unfinished but the writer posted an update a couple of months ago saying they're interested in finishing it now that veilguard is out! if you love it, send them some encouragement!

More fics under the cut!

RECENT FICS

The Veil Between Us - Ellana Lavellan thought she had left everything behind—her title as Inquisitor, her army, her love for Solas—when she dismantled the Inquisition and vanished into obscurity. But when a golden rift pulls her into the heart of the ancient past, she finds herself in Arlathan, face to face with a younger, arrogant, and dangerously captivating Solas. As his personal servant, her duty is clear: to serve, to obey, and to entertain his every whim. But their connection runs deeper than either of them realizes, tangled in a timeless bond that ignites passion and threatens to consume them both.

my notes: newer fic! there are 24 chapters planned, but only 3 uploaded right now. Show the writer some love!

Longing for Home - A fic where Lavellan has found herself traveling through time and becoming an agent of the Dread Wolf's rebellion . . . Lavellan, Seren, accidentally travels to ancient Arlathan and joins the rebellion in an attempt to find her way back to her time . . . intended to be a bit of a reversal of the solavellan dynamic in Inquisition - with Seren having a secret she's hiding while she finds herself teaching the young Wolf about leadership - as well as Seren befriending some nobodies and turning them into rebels worthy of the Dread Wolf's cause.

my notes: this is the newest fic out of the list and only one chapter, but it seemed interesting to me! they said they have a longfic of more sooo...maybe they need some encouragement? :)

Din'Lathsuledin - On the heels of the Dread Wolf, Pellam Lavellan is pulled once more through time and space unknown, into powers beyond imagination; Ancient Arlathan and the reign of Elvhen magic. Sundered from the Fade and marked by Fen'Harel, she must learn to survive the deadly Evanuris and return to her time without destroying the future in the process.

my notes: a 2024 fic, so it's pretty recent! also probably the smuttiest option on the list; if you love it, encourage the writer to keep going!

OLDER FICS

Facing the Wolf - AU Prompt Fic. A mishap with an ancient artifact sends Isii through a portal, dropping her into a time and place that is completely foreign to her. At first she is happy to see that Solas is there with her... until she realizes it isn't Solas.

my notes: I vaaaaguely remember seeing this writer circulating back in the day (this fic is 2015) so I grabbed this one for you. The writer has also linked out to another time travel Ancient Arlathan fic called "Wolf's Den" that may also be of interest?

Only Time Will Tell - At Redcliffe instead of Dorian and the Inquisitor being thrown forward in time, it's just the Inquisitor... And instead of going forward in time, she goes back. A LONG way back. Back to the time of the ancient elves, before Arlathan fell and the gods were locked away. Possibly before the elves even really knew of humans as anything more than primitive creatures on far-off shores. But in this strange, beautiful and cruel world of her ancestors she sees one familiar face, except his name is Fen'Harel.

my notes: another popular fic!

Making Fen'Harel - An AU in which Rihari Lavellan accidentally stumbles into Ancient Arlathan. Mistaken as a slave, she desperately looks for a way back to her own time. Until she meets a familiar man.

my notes: pretty straightforward! a finished fic from 2016

The Past is the Past - After the Temple of Mythal, Soora is left in pain and confusion as the Well of Sorrow is swimming in her mind. The night after the Well of Sorrows, the voices wake her up and force her into Morrigan's Eluvian and into ancient Arlathan. Waking up with Fen'Harel and Mythal standing over her, she starts to realize how right Solas was.

my notes: part of a series, I think this part is all the ancient arlathan stuff while another fic in the series is when they get back to the present day

The Wolf Has Your Scent - A strange rift north of Kirkwall sends Solas and the Inquisitor back through the ages to a time when gods roamed the earth. Forced to work together so soon after their parting hurts them both, but they must work through their differences to get home. Only things go awry when Fen'Harel recognizes the magic pooled in her palm.

my notes: Unfinished, alas, but the description is intriguing. Post-breakup time travel for you?

Temporal Arrangements - A strange object sends Solas and Iwyn Lavellan back in time, right into a situation neither can control. Raw and emotional from their recent breakup, they have to pretend to date to avoid raising suspicion, and work together to find a way back home.

my notes: Similar to the last one, but this one IS finished.

Perennial Dues - In this day and age, she's nothing special to him. Nothing other than a shemlen, even though his people have yet to come up with the term. She had been unique to him once, but today, the god is surrounded by his people. People that share his ideals and way of life. People worthy of his time and affection. Better people than her, in his eyes . . . The hard reality of their wasted bond catches up with her, stabbing her in the heart and twisting the knife for good measure.

my notes: okay this one is human Trevelyan/Solas instead of Lavellan, but if you're looking for inspiration, it may still be worth a read?? the summary isn't very helpful but from what I can tell she was trying to time travel back to a DAI date and overshot into ancient arlathan. oops!

Constant Stars - Inquisitor Lavellan and Dorian are on a mission to take down Venatori when they are magically transported to the ancient past. Elves rule this world without a Veil and they find that a rebel leader wears a familiar face. Takes place post-Inquisition but pre-Trespasser.

my notes: unfinished, but it has PICTURES so that's neat. Also, dorian x iron bull, can't hate that

OKAY I think that's everything in the ancient arlathan tag on AO3. That should give you plenty to read over the next few weeks!!

#did i hyperfixate on this #yes #did i have to give so many recs #probably not but hey let's show some love to fic writers new and old #dragon age #solas #solavellan #ancient arlathan au

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bastaardsuiker · 3 days ago

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Migraine pains

I wrote this a bit ago for Ao3 and wanted to post it here! This is my first time posting fanfiction on Tumblr so please forgive me if I make any mistakes :] Enjoy!

Tags: Sickfic, headaches & migraines, married Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright, fluff

Discription: Phoenix Wright, who is set to be the defense in a high-stakes murder trial, is suddenly struck down with a migraine. Having never had a migraine before, he is forced to overcome a deep rooted trauma to get rid of the pain.

Wordcount: 1,3k

Again I wrote this a bit ago so there might be some mistakes as I was sick myself when writing lmao.

Wright?

A voice. A distant, but familiar voice sounded in his head.

Wright!

The voice raised, scaring the lawyer wide awake. He was laying on the small sofa in the defendant lobby, staring his opponent in the eyes.

"Finally!" Edgeworth, the stern man he was, leaned over Phoenix like a hawk. His clothing strayed from his usual courtroom attire, sporting a black button up with a dark magenta vest, topped off with a tie of the same color. On top of it all was a long, but formal coat to protect against the freezing cold. His hair was still the same as always, neat and well styled.

"Mi- Miles…" Phoenix said, sitting upright. "...You look different."

"Now is not the time to be discussing my appearance!" He pushed his glasses up. "There are 11 minutes left till court and you look like… that."

Phoenix looked at the clock, then himself, and then back at Edgeworth, trying his goddamn best to process the event that transpired before this.

"Well…" He was slightly taken aback by his partner's comment. Jesus, no need to call me out like that… I thought you loved me.

"Come with me, I'll fix you up in no time." Edgeworth reached his hand out, all but dragging Wright towards the bathroom.

"Wait! What- where"s Maya? Which trial is this? Why-" He jumped up off the sofa, trying to keep up with Edgeworths pace. The prosecutor swiftly turned around, staring into Wright"s eyes with utter confusion.

"You don't know which trial this is?"

"Eh, not really…"

They held eye contact for a few seconds, until Edgeworth continued his journey to the bathroom. He pushed Wright in front of the mirror, and began trying to make some sense of the man's un-natural hair.

"How can you not remember? You were there when the victim got shot!"

Phoenix stared at his reflection. Messy hair, messy clothes, messy… everything! He looked around, noticing a strange spot in his vision. He brushed it off as an effect of staying up late (which he did the night before), and readjusted his collar and tie.

However, no matter what he did, the spot didn"t go away. If anything, it was growing. An unsettling feeling plagued his mind. He tried not to think about it too much, and focused on Edgeworths rambling instead.

"Well." Edgeworth said. "You look… presentable."

He stepped in front of his partner, making the last adjustments before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, Miles?" Phoenix asked. "Do you ever have like a… weird, rainbow spot in your vision?"

"Do elaborate… I'm a bit confused on what you mean."

Phoenix sighed. Not out of frustration or exhaustion, but out of a growing anxiety that something was wrong. Very wrong. "There's a spot in my vision, and I… I can't see through it."

"Oh-" He inhaled sharply through his teeth. "Like a migraine."

"A what-now?"

Edgeworth sighed. "You… don't know what a migraine is?"

"Well- I kinda do, but I"ve never had one." Phoenix said. "The only thing I know is that it's a big headache."

"Lucky bastard…" He mumbled to himself. "Anyway, you can"t go to court like this… it's only going to get worse from here."

Phoenix gasped. "Wait- what? Worse?" He strongly blinked a few times, getting more and more worried as the spot grew. "I have to do this case… I wont be able to pay my rent if I don"t!"

"Phoenix, I know." He placed his hands on his partner's arms. "But trust me, in the state you are in right now…"

"What, I'll get a headache? I've had those before, you know."

Edgeworth was getting frustrated now. Migraines were common for him, especially after the many sleepless nights he so often experienced. He knew there was nothing to be done about them, but that certain things would at least help. Being the defense on a high stakes murder trial was certainly not one of those things.

"Phoenix, I have had more than enough experience with this.” He held the door open with one hand, and reached out to Phoenix with the other. “Let's just go home. I won't let you go to court sick.”

Phoenix sighed in defeat, knowing damn well that trying to formulate a counter argument would only result in failure. Besides, he was getting a bit of a headache…

The pair stood in the garage of the prosecutor's office. Edgeworth was clearing some things from the passenger seat. Wright could make out some loose paper, a thick, messy case file, and a chinese take-out box. He had been given Miles’s coat, as he (stupidly) didn't bother bringing one with him despite the frigid temperatures.

“You can come in now.” Edgeworth gestured towards the door.

Phoenix stepped inside with less grace than a drunk walrus, but he couldn't care less. The looming headache and anxiety were worse than before.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. “What are we gonna do about the trial?”

“Ah, I'll call the courthouse when we get home.” He got into the driver's seat and started the car. “Don't worry about it.” A warm, comforting smile appeared on his face. Phoenix felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and couldn't keep his obvious blush hidden.

The first 5 minutes out of the 17 they had to drive were pretty uneventful. Normally they would have filled the whole trip up with stories and complaints about work, but it was completely silent this time.

After a bit, Phoenix suddenly let out a painful whimper and dropped his head in his hands.

“Phoenix?” Miles pulls over into a random parking spot. “Phoenix- Are you alright?”

“I… mh-” He barely gets his words out. “Pain.”

“Headache?”

He nods, albeit rather pathetically.

“Right.” Miles started driving again, maybe just a bit over the speed limit. “We have medicine at home-”

“No.”

Miles looked at Phoenix, more confused than concerned.

“What do you mean, no?” He said.

Phoenix leaned back, eyes pressed shut. “I'm not… I'm not taking the medicine. Not after what happened with her.”

Miles sighed. He knew what was coming, and he knew he either had to wrestle the medicine into the man himself, or just leave him in pain. And his heart was not ready to accept option two.

“Phoenix, I understand, but… do you really want to live in pain for the rest of the day?” He said. “The medicine isn't even cold medicine. Completely different brand.”

“I-” Phoenix hesitated.

“Do you not trust me not to poison you?”

Phoenix inhaled sharply, being nearly brought to tears by the comment. Miles immediately regretted what he said.

Miles unlocked the door, and Phoenix nearly crashed through it. He stumbled to the couch and fell face first, not bothering to take his shoes off.

“Do you want to eat anything?” Miles asked.

Phoenix shook his head, far too tired for any degree of verbal communication. His eyes were heavy and useless, and his head screamed at him in pain.

“Do you want to watch tv?” Phoenix looked confused. “You're not supposed to look at the screen when you have a headache, right?” He thought to himself. Miles noticed his concerned expression. “As a distraction, of course. Listening to something always helps me get my mind off of what's happening to me.”

“Eh, I don't know…”

Miles chuckled. “You could also listen to me ramble about the Steel Samurai, but I doubt that would bring you any joy.”

“Just… do something…” He stared at a little bottle of pills in contemplation. “And…”

“And what?”

“Get me some painkillers…”

Miles tried to hide his best to hide his excitement, but as he looked over at his partner and noticed a devious grin plastered on his face, he knew he had lost.

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #wrightworth #fanfic #no beta we die like gregory #sickfic #migraines #ace attorney fanfiction #narumitsu

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letteredlettered · 3 days ago

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thank you so much for the tags, @wholahoop and @its-the-allure!!!!

how many works do you have on ao3? 132

what's your total ao3 word count? 2,386,471

your top 5 stories by kudos? Away Childish Things, The Boy Who Only Lived Twice, The Pure and Simple Truth, He Who Must Not Be Normal, Another Mask Behind You

do you respond to comments? I try very hard to respond to every single comment while posting a fic, or if it's a one-shot, every comment within the first three days. Beyond that, I really struggle.

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? The Eighth Tale. I end most things either open or happy, but this is a time travel story, and the point is that there are infinite endings. But the ending we do get is pretty sad.

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? The End Resting Only On Air. This is actually the ending of a series. There is neither rejoicing nor throwing bouquets in the air, but I think it might be the only time I've written a ship getting married and having a long established relationship. I'm really proud of this fic, because they are really, really, really happy, but there isn't an ounce of it that feels sappy to me. (It's a complete AU, so readable if you don't know the fandom, and it can also stand alone within the series.)

do you write crossovers? I wrote one 100-word drabble that was Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Doctor Who

have you ever received hate on a fic? all the time

do you write smut? all the time

have you ever had a fic stolen? all the time

have you ever had a fic translated? all the time

have you ever co-written a fic before? never

what's your all-time favorite ship? Kirk/Spock

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Right now I have two big ones. One is for CQL/MDZS and is LWJ/WWX arranged marriage secret identity. The other is for The Original Series of Star Trek and also the Alternate Original Series, and has Kirk/Spock undertones but is probably gen, in which AOS!Spock switches places with TOS!Spock and TOS!Kirk has to deal with him. I have 40K written of each.

what are your writing strengths? dialogue, a tight closed third person POV, and I don't know how else to say this, but intensity

what are your writing weaknesses? maintaining interest long enough to write an ending, repetition/concision, syntactic variation, description

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I think that if you're going to write a story about language, multilingualism, the experience of being multilingual or how being multilingual shapes one's life, it's a great idea to use those languages in the text. I doubt I'd write those stories, though I'm deeply interested in languages. Since I write such a tight POV, if the POV character doesn't understand the language they will not be able to clearly hear/differentiate every word, so I wouldn't write the othr language, and if the POV character does understand the language, I would write it as translated into the POV character's language so that we the reader can understand precisely what the POV character understands.

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? I'm interested in Mo Ran/Chu Wanning, but I need to get a complete translation of canon first.

what's your favorite fic you've ever written? Probably still Responsible Science.

#original post #fandom

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for-a-longlongtime · 11 hours ago

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WIP Wednesday Whenever at-least-it's-not-fuckin' January-anymore

Thank you for tagging me @perotovar!

Everything writing has been a mess, but last week I finally made myself sit down and work on part II for Nothing That I Didn't Know, because I miss my three idiots (affectionate) so much. I've started that chapter from scratch more times than I can count over the past 14 months (wtf), because I've got such a specific vision of it in my mind, but it's finally shaping up!

Before Frankie has time to panic, your fingers brush over the back of his head - softly rubbing his scalp in soothing circles, then finding his curls to play with as you always do. His eyes close in pleasure, and as he’s trying to find some coherent words, he feels Santi’s hand in his hair move to meet yours, fingers entwining. “Stop thinking, baby,” you whisper at him, because you know him so damn well. Just when he’s about to respond, your hold on his hair tightens, followed by Santi also gripping his curls closer. The seconds of anticipation make Frankie’s heart race as he holds his breath, his cock twitching hard in Santiago’s other hand. And then at last, when he’s almost not expecting it anymore, there’s that hard tug at his hair that he's longing for. Except unlike the many times before, it’s now two hands jerking his head back - one considerably stronger than the other. The zap of painful pleasure makes his mind go blissfully blank, and he whimpers when Santi grabs his chin lightly - holding it in place as his lips brushing over Frankie’s throat, followed by the rougher texture of his beard. “Look at me, Francisco.”

NPT (sorry if you've already posted, time wasn't real in january so I've lost track of most people's WIP posts): @sin-djarin @lotusbxtch @qveerthe0ry @mountainsandmayhem @alltheglitterandtheroar

@magpiepills @arcanefox207 @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @oliveksmoked

@ohforficsake @sp00kymulderr @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @nerdieforpedro @avastrasposts

@ghostofaboy @crowandmousewritingco @chronically-ghosted @covetyou @moonlitbirdie

@reallyrallyauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

& everybody else reading this!

#pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #oscar isaac characters #santiago garcia #triple frontier #wip wednesday #oscar isaac #wip whenever #snippet #series: nothing that i didn't know

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cry1ngame · 3 days ago

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BACK TO YOU

Drew McIntyre

- First ever post! Fem pov, cursing, may be a few mistakes I've glossed over, I've had part of this story saved in my notes for a long while but after this week's raw I HAD to continue it. ( Drew McIntyre my beloved )

You had been dodging him for weeks - literal weeks - and that didn't stop him from constantly trying to get in front of you, larger than life, with a smirk that said he knew exactly how much he was throwing you off your game. Drew McIntyre. The Scottish Psychopath. That Drew McIntyre. You didn’t think you’d done that much to get on his radar. Sure, you were killing it by climbing the ranks, match after match, win after win. Your face was starting to plaster itself on posters, advertisements, and highlight reels. People were noticing you. But Drew McIntyre noticing you? That felt...big. And honestly, a little alarming. At first, you thought it was jealousy. Maybe he didn’t like the attention you were getting. Maybe your growing momentum annoyed him. But no, he’d made it clear (in the most frustratingly confident way possible) that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t mad about your rise. Hell, he was happy for you. Said he was proud of what you were doing. The problem, according to him, was that you were doing it alone. He thought you had potential - more than potential. He thought you were destined for greatness, the kind of greatness that came from being at his side. He wanted to mentor you, partner with you, and create an alliance. He claimed you. He just wished, you know, that circumstances were a little different. Like, maybe you should be killing it with him. That’s right. Drew McIntyre wanted to team up. Which, to be fair, sounded great on paper….if he wasn’t embroiled in every ounce of drama under the sun. The Bloodline? Check. CM Punk? Check. Random chaos at every turn? Double check. But you? You weren’t a team player. Never had been. You were a lone wolf from day one. Sure, there’d been a tag match or two along the way ( obligatory stuff, for the views ) but alliances? Long-term partnerships? Not your style. You thrived on independence. Did your own thing, earned your own victories, made your own name. And Drew, frustratingly enough, respected that about you. Admired it, even. He just thought, “Hey, maybe you could be even greater with me.” I mean, he even called you the prodigal one ( second to him ).

But every week, you shut him down. Again. And again. And again. At first, it was the baggage he had...his drama-filled life wasn’t exactly appealing. But then you realized the truth - you loved the chase. Sure, you still preferred working alone, but this back-and-forth? The tension? The game? It was intoxicating. Drew might’ve been dead serious, but you? You were having fun. Not that he didn’t get under your skin every now and then. You still remember the day it all started. The Royal Rumble was on the horizon, and you were determined. This was your moment, your shot. The crowd was behind you, the energy electric. And then…his music hit.

Drew McIntyre.

He walked down the aisle, microphone in hand, head dipped low. His shadow stretched across the ramp and you could imagine the smirk on his features before you even saw it. He climbed into the ring swiftly, his towering frame making you feel so very small.

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” he said, extending a hand like this was some kind of networking event. “Drew. Drew McIntyre.”

You raised the mic, ready to respond, but nothing came out. You weren’t exactly sure why he, of all people, had decided to interrupt you. You’d never crossed paths before. Not backstage. Not in the ring. Not even a sideways glance.

“Oh, sorry.” Drew took a mockingly apologetic step back, his smirk widening. “You’re confused, yeah? Don’t worry, I get ahead of myself sometimes. Jump right in without explaining. Allow me to fix that.” You stood there, rooted to the spot, the microphone still in your hand but forgotten as Drew stared at you. The crowd was eating it up, cheers ringing through the arena, wondering how this would play out with you two strangers, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was Drew McIntyre. “You’ve been making waves, aye?” Drew began, pacing the ring in front of you. “Winning matches, catching the eye of management, getting the crowd behind you. I mean, look at them!” He swept a hand toward the audience, who instinctively erupted into another cheer, and you felt your cheeks flush despite yourself. “They love you. They’re invested in your story. They see what I see.”

Your brow furrowed slightly at that last line, your brain catching up with his words. What did he see?

Drew stopped pacing, turning to face you fully now. He tilted his head, a knowing smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Still no words, eh? That’s alright. I like a good listener. But let me make one thing crystal clear-” He stepped closer, and the air between you seemed to charge with something unidentifiable. “I’m not out here to take anything from you. I’m not out here to dim your spotlight or put you in your place, as they say.” His smirk turned almost wolfish, “I’m out here because I see potential in you. Potential that’s being squandered.”

The crowd gasped, and you blinked, finally snapping out of your daze. Squandered? Did he just say squandered? Your lips parted, and you raised your mic, but Drew placed his hand on it, pushing it down before you could speak.

“Ah, let me finish, please,” he said it like he wasn’t really asking. “I’m not saying you’re not doing well. Quite the opposite, actually. You’re thriving. But you’re thriving alone. And while I respect the whole lone wolf schtick, believe me, I’ve been there, I can’t help but wonder…” He leaned in slightly, a breath away from you. “How much further could you go with someone like me by your side?”

Your mind raced, replaying everything he’d said up until this point, and for a brief moment, you found yourself considering it. But then you shook your head slightly, the tiniest movement, and Drew noticed. Of course, he noticed.

He straightened up, chuckling softly, the sound low and almost… amused? “Ah, I see,” he said, taking a step back, giving you space. “You’re skeptical. That’s fair. I’d be the same in your shoes. But let me ask you this.” He gestured toward the titantron, where a montage of your highlights began to play, your most recent victories. “Is this enough for you? Are you satisfied with being good when you could be great?”

Immediately, you raised your mic, finally finding your voice. “Why do you care?” you asked, “What’s in it for you, Drew?”

He grinned at that, a genuine, almost boyish grin that took you by surprise. “Now that is a good question,” he said, nodding in approval. “And the answer is simple. I care because I’ve been where you are. I’ve walked this path, and I’ve seen what happens when you try to do it all on your own. I don’t want to see you make the same mistakes I did.”

Suddenly, you felt a flicker of something other than confusion. Was it….understanding? No, you shook the thought away. You weren’t about to fall for his charm or his words. “Thanks for the advice,” you said finally, “but I’ve been doing just fine on my own. And I don’t need anyone, especially not you, to tell me how to succeed.”

Drew chuckled again, this time with a hint of frustration, and for a moment, you thought he might press the issue. But instead, he took another step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright then,” he said, “But don’t say I didn’t offer you soon enough.” With that, he turned and exited the ring, his music hitting again as he walked back up the ramp. But before he disappeared backstage, he glanced over his shoulder, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours one last time. At that moment, you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Week after week, it was the same routine. Drew McIntyre would just happen to bump into you, like clockwork. Oh, and he’d always play it off as a complete accident too. “Oh, didn’t see you there!” Like he wasn’t a six-foot-five wall of Scottish muscle with the stealth of a freight train. And then, with that disarming grin, he’d launch into some casual small talk. “How’s your day been?” he’d ask, all innocently, as if he hadn’t been strategically timing these “accidental” run-ins like he was plotting a heist. You weren’t stupid. You knew the guy had probably analyzed your whole routine like it was game tape. He seemed to have mapped out your water breaks, gym sessions, and post-match cooldowns just to stage these little encounters. And the worst part? It was kind of working. Not that you’d let him know that.

You almost tripped over yourself completely when the staff asked you to join commentary as a special guest one night. It sounded simple enough - sit down, watch some matches, sprinkle in your witty insights, maybe drop a one-liner or two. Easy! But no one bothered to mention who was lined up for a match that night.

Drew McIntyre. Of fucking course.

The moment his music hit, your once bubbly and confident persona took a nosedive. You went from charming and talkative to awkward and painfully aware of the walking hurricane now striding down the ramp. And Drew? He noticed. He noticed everything. Mid-match, as he laid waste to his poor opponent, Seth Rollins, he still found time to torment you. After slamming the man into the mat with the kind of force that made the entire ring rattle, Drew would glance your way. Sometimes he’d wave, like you were just an old friend in the crowd. Other times, he’d tilt his head at you, as if he were trying to crack open your skull and figure you out.

And you? Your attempts to play it cool were failing spectacularly. A simple question from the loveable Micheal Cole - “What do you think of Drew’s strategy here?” - felt like a trap. What were you supposed to say? “Oh, yeah, he’s terrifyingly good at his job, but can he stop staring at me for like five seconds?” Yeah, that wouldn’t fly. You really thought the torture was over when Drew had his win, did his signature post-match victory flex, and was presumably on his way to the locker room. But that wasn't the end of the story. Nope, you were wrong. So, so wrong. It was Drew McIntyre. And Drew McIntyre isn’t the kind of guy to let things lie when there’s an opportunity to stir the pot. You still remember how your heart practically jumped into your throat when he slipped out of the ring. His massive frame was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving from the match, but instead of heading for the ramp, he made a beeline for, you guessed it, the commentary table. Your first instinct? Lean back. Your second? Glare daggers at him. But the man was unfazed. No, he actually thrived off your discomfort.

With deliberate slowness, he placed a single hand on the table, leaning over just enough to close the gap between you. The sweat dripping from his brow only made him look more menacing. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, it was like time froze. No words, no smirk, no witty quip. Just that silent, piercing stare. You gripped the armrests of your chair like they were the only thing keeping you tethered to reality, refusing to flinch. It was a standoff, a painfully long one. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Drew straightened up, with the tiniest smirk tugging at his lips as if to say, "Alright, you win this round." And then, just like that, he turned and sauntered off, leaving you to exhale the breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding in your throat.

You thought this whole cat-and-mouse game with Drew McIntyre would stay fun, but there were times when things started to heat up. And not the kind of heat that gets the crowd going, either. No, it was something else. Something a little too intense. You couldn’t tell if that made the chase more thrilling or just downright nerve-wracking. Probably both. Definitely both.

You remember one night in particular. Oh, you remember it very well.

“You’re so damn selfish.”

The words hit you like a slap. You’d just walked off the heels of a brutal match, your body aching and your mind replaying every hit you’d taken, embarrassing you. The last thing you expected, or wanted, was Drew standing there, waiting for you like some storm cloud ready to burst. His tone wasn’t playful, not cocky or teasing like usual. It was sharp. Raw. A little too real. You stopped in your tracks, staring up at the ceiling like you were asking whatever the hell was above in the heavens for divine intervention. Anything to avoid meeting his gaze. Maybe if you prayed hard enough, he’d just….evaporate. ( Spoiler alert! he didn’t! ) When you finally looked forward, your heart sank faster than a wrestler getting powerbombed. Drew was right in front of you, his shadow swallowing you whole. You’d think by now, after all the weeks of close encounters, you’d be used to his suffocating presence.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” His voice was low as he jabbed a finger between you and himself. It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even a demand. It was an order. And for the first time in this little game of yours, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to play anymore.

Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you wanted to keep playing.

. . .

In reality, your hypocrisy knew no bounds. You’d sworn to steer clear of Drew’s mess, to avoid his drama like it was a tag team match you weren’t booked for. Yet, another faithful night, you perched yourself on one of those battered backstage crates, legs dangling like some carefree kid at summer camp, transfixed as hell. And what had your attention? One of his promos. Seth Rollins, CM Punk, and Drew McIntyre, all squaring off in a verbal slugfest that somehow felt more violent than most actual matches. Drew was holding his ground, trading barbs like a man with nothing to lose and everything to prove. It was riveting, okay? You hated to admit it, but for those few minutes, you might as well have been just another fan sitting in the expensive seats with merch and popcorn.

“God, he’s insane-” you muttered to yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. Insane was probably an understatement. The man seemed to collect enemies like other people collected Funko Pops. And you hated that you…liked it. Drew wasn’t just playing chess; he was flipping the board over, setting the pieces on fire, and daring everyone else to deal with it. The promo ended with Drew walking off, his mic-drop moment lingering in the air like smoke after The American Nightmare’s three pyro displays. He stormed down the aisle and into the backstage area. And then, like fate ( or mischief ) had decided to pull a fast one, his eyes landed on you. You didn’t flinch. Instead, you smiled, all child-like.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you drawled, leaning back against the wall, “I’d say you’re all for the drama.” You tilted your head, sizing him up with the kind of playful curiosity that was half a tease and half a challenge. “Do you, like, keep a checklist of everyone in the locker room you’ve yet to piss off? Or is it more of a spin-the-wheel situation?”

Drew stopped in his tracks, his expression shifting from confusion to amusement so fast it was almost dizzying. He cocked an eyebrow, that trademark smirk creeping across his face. “Oh, I don’t need a checklist,” he shot back, his Scottish brogue dripping with sarcasm. “It’s more of an art form, really. You wouldn’t understand. I mean, you would if you, y'know - tagged along.”

You let out a soft laugh, kicking your feet a little for emphasis. “An art form? Please. You’re like a walking soap opera, McIntyre. And the worst part is, you know it.”

“And yet,” He said, his voice dropping just enough to make you lean in slightly, “you’re watching. So pray tell, do you enjoy the show?”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees as you met his gaze. “Don’t get it twisted, McIntyre. I like watching you from afar. But, I don't want front-row seats to your circus shit.”

He studied you for a moment, his smirk softening into something almost thoughtful. “Fair enough,” he said finally, taking a step back. “But if you ever change your mind…” He let the offer hang in the air before turning and walking away.

You watched him go, the corner of your mouth quirking upward despite yourself. Front-row seats? Not a chance. But sneaking a peek every now and then? Maybe.

. . .

You told yourself you had bigger things to focus on - mainly the Royal Rumble, which was practically breathing down your neck. All the fans were counting on your win. With only a week left, you needed laser focus. To your surprise, Drew seemed to understand that. Or at least, he pretended to. He backed off. No sudden interruptions, no cryptic stares from across the room, no impromptu speeches about your "wasted potential." And yet….you couldn’t help but feel off with that. Where was the usual chaos? The aggravating, borderline charming mind games from the man who appeared to be some kind of Scottish God? You tried to ignore the faint pang of disappointment every time you walked backstage, expecting him to appear, only to find yourself alone. Well, almost alone...because occasionally, Drew would stroll by, smirk in your direction like he knew something you didn’t, and then kept walking. And yeah, maybe that smirk made your pulse do something it absolutely shouldn’t. But you didn’t have time for that. No. No. No. Head down, full steam ahead. Unfortunately, focusing on the Rumble wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Case in point - being saddled with a random match against Liv Morgan. You weren’t exactly thrilled. Liv wasn’t your favorite person, but you respected her...a little. Okay, maybe barely. But she didn’t make it easy, with her need to talk and talk and talk and- whatever. Still, you showed up. That’s what you did. Match after match, day after day, even the ones you didn’t ask for. You stepped into the ring with Liv, and from the get-go, she was already running her mouth like her paycheck depended on it.

“You’re all alone,” she sneered, her long blonde hair swishing with that irritating laugh of hers echoing throughout the arena.

You couldn’t help it but you laughed. Not loud, not big, just a dry little chuckle under your breath. “Yeah? I work alone,” you shot back, deadpan.

Liv, ever dramatic, planted a hand on her hip and draped her other arm around Raquel Rodriguez’s shoulders, practically standing on her toes to reach her. The visual was almost enough to make you roll your eyes into the day of the royal rumble. “It’s good to have friends, you know?” Liv said, her tone syrupy sweet in the most nauseating way possible.

And that’s when you nearly facepalmed. This again? Was this your thing now? Everyone acting like your lack of alliances was some sort of existential crisis?

“Liv, don’t even-” you started, already knowing where this was going.

“Oh, no, no,” she cut you off, raising a hand. “I’m not saying you should come to my side. Ew. That’s frankly disgusting to even think about.” Her face twisted into a mock grimace before snapping back into her sassy smile. “What I am saying is that you should have someone watching your back. Someone to...I don’t know...back you up in the Rumble? I’m just warning you because I’m nice like that.”

You blinked at her, completely unimpressed. “Oh, you’re nice,” you said flatly. “That’s what this is?”

“Exactly!” Liv chirped.

For a second, you considered responding. Maybe calling her out on the thinly veiled condescension or pointing out how ridiculous her "advice" was. But then you decided it wasn’t worth the energy. Instead, you smirked, tilted your head, and let her dig her own hole. Because if there was one thing Liv Morgan hated, it was being ignored. And if she wanted to make an example out of you, she was about to learn the hard way. Hell everyone was going to learn at the rumble, you'd make sure of it.

. . .

You didn’t think much about Liv’s little “helpful” comments at first, I mean, why would you? But as the Royal Rumble loomed closer, something shifted. Tensions backstage were clear, crackling in the air like a thunderstorm. Everyone had the same goal - to win, to headline WrestleMania, to make themselves unforgettable! You were still focused on taking it all for yourself, but you’d be lying if you said the growing tension didn’t throw you off a little. The stink eye became a constant routine. Other women in the locker room were eyeing you like you were nothing more than a punching bag. You weren't stupid, you knew it wasn’t personal, ( okay, maybe it was personal ), but you also figured you weren’t the only one getting this treatment. Survival mode was kicking in for everyone, and apparently, giving dirty looks was a stress-relief hobby for half the roster. Still, you tried to brush it off, keeping your head down as you made your way through the halls. You were lost in your own thoughts, mapping out strategies and mentally preparing yourself for the chaos of the Rumble, when something, or someone, caught your attention. At the end of the hallway, there he was. Drew McIntyre, standing by one of the equipment crates, adjusting his gear. You stopped dead in your tracks, your stomach doing a weird little flip before you could help it. Damn it. Why did he always look like he’d stepped straight out of an action movie? His broad shoulders, his bare back…Nope. Nope. No. Stop staring. You swallowed hard, glancing away as if that could erase the fact you’d been ogling him for far longer than you cared to admit. But instead of turning around and walking away like you probably should have, you found your feet moving toward him. It wasn’t until you were just a few steps behind him that you realized you hadn’t really thought this through. What were you even going to say? You didn’t have a plan...you just... moved.

Still, you stood there, forcing yourself to speak. “You’ve been quiet lately,” you said, the words coming out more casual than you felt. Like you both were good buddies-

Drew straightened, glancing over his shoulder. When his gaze locked onto yours, his lips curved into that maddeningly confident smirk, the one that made you feel……well, something you didn’t want to think about too much. He turned fully to face you now, crossing his arms over his chest, making himself look bigger than he actually was. “Quiet?” he repeated, amused. “Didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on me.”

You blinked, taken aback by how easily he flipped the script. “I’m not,” you said quickly, though the slight defensive high pitched edge in your voice probably wasn’t helping your case. “I just…noticed something, that's all. You’re usually popping up everywhere, throwing your two cents in, but now? Silence.”

Drew tilted his head, his smirk softening. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I figured I’d give you some space. You’ve got a lot on your plate, don’t you? The Rumble, the spotlight….proving to everyone you can do it all on your own.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, as if he knew he was poking at a sore spot.

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms as well. “I can handle it.”

“Of course you can! I know you can,” he said smoothly, his tone so infuriatingly agreeable that it almost sounded patronizing. “But handling it doesn’t mean you have to do it alone."

And there it was...the classic Drew McIntyre pitch. You should’ve seen it coming. You had no idea why you even bothered approaching him in the first place, but now that you had, you weren’t about to let him turn this into another “team up with me” speech.

“I’ve been doing just fine on my own,” you said firmly, refusing to let him see the cracks in your armor. “And I’ll win the Rumble the same way. Besides you've got your own damn rumble to worry about.”

Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head like you were missing some inside joke. “We’ll see,” he said simply. Then he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping low enough to send an uninvited shiver down your spine, his beard pricking your forehead. “Just don’t forget, I never play quiet for long.”

With that, he brushed past you, his shoulder grazing yours, just barely, but even that slight contact was enough to make you stumble, caught off guard by how ridiculously solid he was. You steadied yourself quickly, cheeks heating up as you glared after him. He didn’t look back. He just kept walking, all broad shoulders and confidence.You stood there for a moment, staring at him until he was gone, your mind a tangled mess of something jittering. Fuck him and his promises.

. . .

You dragged yourself out of those memories - Drew, the lead-up to the Royal Rumble, the side-eyes and whispers in the women’s locker room because none of that mattered. Not anymore. Because you were there. At the Royal Rumble. And what were you doing? Sitting backstage, watching the minutes tick by, mentally preparing for the war.

You sat further back from the rest of the women, away from the hushed voices and glares being thrown in your direction. You didn’t need to hear them to know exactly what they’re saying, how you were all talk, how you didn’t take teamwork seriously, how you though you were better than everyone else. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as if that could physically swat away their nonsense. Let them talk. Let them whisper and scheme and convince themselves that you aren’t everything you say you are. You specifically made sure to catch Liv Morgan’s eye and flash her a glare nasty enough to slice through steel. She got the message and she turned away.

Still, you sat there, watching people pass by, your mind unusually…..blank. Which was weird. Your brain was never blank. Maybe you were just focused? Too focused! Yeah, let’s go with that. Not nerves. Definitely not nerves. You rarely ever get nervous. You ran your fingers through your hair and shut your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. And then, just as you started to settle, you heard footsteps stop directly in front of you. You groaned, already preparing to shut down whoever thought that now was the perfect time to bother you. With an irritated sigh, you opened your eyes, ready to tell them exactly where they could shove their bad timing only to immediately lose your momentum the second you saw who was standing in front of you.

Drew. Of course it was him.

You leaned back instinctively as he loomed over you, his presence heavy even without a single word being spoken. “Drew…” You sighed, shifting under his stare. “Of all days, please. Not today.”

Silence.

You narrowed your eyes. “Drew?”

Nothing.

You knew this man loved his dramatic pauses, but this was excessive even for him.

“Drew, c’mon-”

And then he moved.

Instead of answering, he dropped down into a crouch, leveling himself with you, his face at eye level with yours. You immediately tensed. Fuck him. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Fucking what?” you snapped.

Drew tilted his head slightly, considering you for a moment before finally - finally - speaking. “You ready for this?”And just like that, something in your chest tightened. Because for the first time tonight, someone wasn't doubting you. He wasn't questioning whether you’ll crack, whether you’ll fold under the pressure. He wasn't treating you like some wildcard that’s bound to fall apart. No. He was just asking.

And somehow, that made….a difference for you.

Your instinct was to scoff, to roll your eyes and hit him with something sarcastic, but for some reason, you didn’t. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you…calmly. No smirk, no teasing, no hidden agenda. Just Drew, crouched in front of you like you’re the only thing in the world worth focusing on right now.

You exhaled slowly, “You think I’m not?”

Drew let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Didn’t say that.” His voice was steady, “But I also know that no matter how ready you think you are, the Rumble changes people.”

You frowned. “That supposed to be a warning?”

“More like a fact,” he said simply, resting his forearms on his knees. “You go in there with a plan, thinking you’ve got it all mapped out, and then-” he snapped his fingers,“-chaos hits. People you trust? Gone in an instant. People you never expected? Suddenly your biggest problem. It’s a different kind of fight. You don’t just have to be good, you have to be smarter than the twenty-nine other people trying to rip your head off.”

You didn’t miss the way his gaze sharpened, the subtle way his voice drops, as if he was speaking from experience. Of course he was. Drew’s been in that ring before, he’s felt that pressure, survived it.

And you'll get to watch him in there that night too.

You shifted in your seat, eyes narrowing slightly. “So what? You come here to give me a motivational speech? Because if that’s the case, you can go ahead and just-”

“I came here to remind you that…whatever happens, you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

There it was. The pitch. Again. You knew it was coming, and yet, something about the way he said it now makes it oddly inviting.

Drew watched your reaction, then huffed a quiet laugh. “Relax, I’m not asking you to be my tag partner and braid each other’s hair. I’m just saying….when you’re in that ring, when the numbers start to stack against you, remember that not everyone in there wants to see you fail.”

That shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did.

You shifted your gaze away, inhaling deeply through your nose. You didn’t do partnerships. You didn’t rely on people. And yet…You glanced back at him. He was watching you, unreadable as ever, but there was something to his expression, something you weren't sure what to do with.

So you did what you did best. You deflected. “You getting soft on me, McIntyre?”

Drew snorted, standing back up to his full, ridiculously tall height. “Not a chance,” he said, looking down at you. Then, after a pause, he adds, “Just….don’t be stupid in there.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you sitting there, stuck in your mind. That was….new. A little too genuine, a little too caring coming from Drew. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You clenched your head. Whatever that was, it couldn’t ( wouldn’t ) be a distraction. Not tonight. You had a Rumble to win.

. . .

The roar of the crowd yanks you back to reality, shaking you out of the daze of embarrassment . The match is still going, the ring still packed with women clawing for their shot at glory. And you? You’re sitting on the cold, unforgiving floor outside the ring, pathetically perched against the apron like some kind of afterthought. And now, the questions start creeping in. How the hell do you come back from this? Maybe you should’ve played nicer, built bridges instead of burning them. Maybe if you’d actually given a damn about those forced tag teams, you wouldn’t have been easy pickings, ganged up on. Maybe, just maybe, you were never meant for this level of the game. Because right now, you feel like a joke.

You bite down on your lip, then wince at the sharp sting. You touch it and when you pull your fingers away, there’s blood. Great. Perfect. Like you needed another reminder of how thoroughly you got your ass handed to you.

With a sharp exhale, you slam your fist against the floor and tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling as tears well up in your eyes. It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid. This business is ruthless. Not everyone is going to make it, not everyone is going to be liked, and success isn’t guaranteed. But knowing that doesn’t make this sting any less. The noise of the match continues, bodies slamming, the crowd gasping, the referee shouting. You should still be in there. Then the crowd erupts, the volume suddenly loud as ever. Another elimination, maybe? Some huge moment you’re missing?

You lower your gaze, and - oh. Your stomach drops. Because striding down the aisle, eyes locked onto you, is Drew McIntyre.

You clench the edge of the apron, forcing yourself to stand despite the ache in your limbs. But the second you put weight on them, pain shoots through your body, and you sink right back down. “Get the fuck out of here." The words come out sharper than intended, but you don’t care. You glare up at him. Drew. He just stands there. Watching. Unmoving. "Are you kidding me?" you snap, "Go."

Drew blinks. Doesn't move.

Your patience, already thin, snaps again. "Go, Drew!"

Nothing. No irritation, no amusement, no snide remark. Just…..silence. And then - he moves.

You stiffen as he crouches down, his massive frame suddenly close, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. His expression is unreadable, which is somehow worse than if he were gloating. Then, without a word, he reaches out. You flinch instinctively, your body tensing, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his rough thumb drags over your split lip, smearing away the blood.

Your breath hitches. The touch is gentle. Too gentle. Especially for someone like Drew. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you stare at him, your mind scrambling for something, anything, to say. But he just watches you, as if waiting.

For what? you don’t know. And that? That excites you again. Just like it did when this whole game started. Although, it didn't feel like a game anymore.

Your eyes flutter as his hand shifts, trailing from your lip to the side of your face. His palm is warm, like it belongs to someone who’s always been there, always should be there. And somehow, against every stubborn instinct in your body, you find yourself leaning into it. A shaky sigh slips past your lips before you can stop it. You shouldn’t be doing this. You should be pushing him away, snapping something sharp and cutting, reminding him that you don’t need comfort, that you don’t want it. But instead, you just… sink into the moment. Like this is natural. Like this is allowed. And, God help you, it feels that way.

“Drew,” you breathe, the word slipping out before you can stop it. Before you can second-guess it. His thumb stills against your cheek, but he doesn’t pull away. He’s waiting. He knows. “Please?”

And that single word? It’s not just a plea. It’s a confirmation. A surrender of acceptance. Of him. Of this. Of whatever the hell has been building between you both, thick in the air, woven into every lingering glance, every sharp exchange, every time he’s looked at you like he’s just waiting for you to see it. And now you do.

And God, the relief of it, of finally stopping, of finally letting yourself go, hits harder than a punch to the gut. You exhale shakily, your body relaxing just slightly against his touch, and Drew’s fingers curl just the tiniest bit against your skin, like he’s grounding himself in this moment too. For the first time, you don’t treat it like a game, don’t pretend you’re still running. Because you’re not.

You can’t.

#drew McIntyre #drew mcintyre #wwe #wwe drew mcintyre #drew McIntyre x reader #drew McIntyre fanfic #drew McIntyre fanfiction #wwe drew #drew McIntyre one shot #drew McIntyre imagine #wwe smackdown #wwe raw #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction

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firstprince-history-huh · 3 days ago

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Favourite Lone Star Fandom Memories

Oh boy where to begin! I have so many good memories of this show! Watching it, being in the fandom, reading fics & so much more!

Thanks to @thisbuildinghasfeelings for starting this & for tagging me! ❤️💕

And thank you for also tagging me @everlastingday @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @tellmegoodbye @heartstringsduet ❤️💕

1. How Tarlos & Lone Star was the first time I think I truly started to be so involved in fandom

So there are a lot of books & TV shows/movies that I had read/watched before Lone Star. And a few months before I knew about Lone Star, I read Red, White & Royal Blue. RWRB is what brought me back to Tumblr after like 5 years & also what got me reading fics again after almost 10 years. I started engaging in fandom because of that. And it is through some of the mutuals from RWRB fandom that I got introduced to Tarlos (more on that below). Now back to my point- although I had started engaging in fandom through RWRB, it was after starting Lone Star that I truly deeply started engaging in fandom as a whole. Interacting with other fellow fans, reading & commenting on fics, being a part of post-episode analysis & discussion about what happened, encouraging (more like pestering lol 😂) my bestie (I was also the one who introduced her & some of my other friends to RWRB around the same time) to watch it is something that I hadn't done to a great extent in any of the previous fandoms.

2. TARLOS

So after Push aired, I started seeing gifs of the "breath baby breath" scene & that is how I got introduced to this fandom. I was like who are these guys? What is going on? And then I saw a few YouTube clips of that scene & I was like ok I'm watching this show. And truly the story of Tarlos is so beautiful! I love that there is no cheating/love triangle drama. Because I've seen that in some of my older fandoms & I just love how they didn't show that with these two you know?

3. The cast

The cast is so incredibly talented! I love the way they portray the characters! Prior to watching Lone Star, the only cast member I had seen in the stuff I had watched was Rob Lowe in Holiday in the Wild & in Parks & Rec. But now there's this whole group of people that I would love to watch anything else that they star in!

4. Live watching

Season 5 was the first season that I truly watched live. Before that, season 3 & 4 I would watch on Disney+ an hour after it aired as that is when the new episodes would become available on Disney+ in the country where I was at that time. So truly live watching has been so much fun! Getting to see what happens & reacting to it in real time, reading other people's reactions has been amazing! And eating Cheetos while live watching- thanks for reminding me of that @lemonlyman-dotcom & your food tag game was my favorite part of my pre-show ritual!

5. Fics

The fics! Need I say more? The fics I've read in his fandom have been so amazing, incredible & brilliant! And the number of times I've re-read some of the fics!

6. My favorite episodes & specific moments from them

Watching & rewatching some of the episodes because I just love the things that happened in them! The soulmate scene has to be one of my top favs because the way it altered my brain chemistry! The Tarlos wedding vows, the proposal, bad call, saving grace, the police station scene from 1x03, the hospital scene from 1x08, PUSH, riddle of the sphynx, Lou 1 & Lou 2, Marjan & Joe's wedding and so many more!

I absolutely loved doing this so much!

I know I'm a bit late to doing this, but OPEN TAG to anyone who wants to do this & also tagging:

@actual-sleeping-beauty @ladytessa74 @ladyknight1512 @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk

@ironheartwriter @annoyingcloudearthquake @henrygrass @goodways @detective-giggles

@beautifulhigh @dear-viv @sapphic--kiwi @emsprovisions @sarnagati @paperstorm

@chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids @herefortarlos @liminalmemories21 @meditating-honey-badger

@lemonlyman-dotcom @queen-saltyfries

#911 lone star #fandom memories #911 lone star fandom #favourite 911 lone star fandom memories #tag games

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piratespencil · 1 year ago

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This is so funny to me. Reducing them down to their simplest attributes. Turning them into symbols.

#this is some bouba kiki shit #also!! i said this in the tags of another post but i've finally gotten to the point in my op reread where i've hit the moment #when i stopped reading op back in like 2014 #that's almost ten years ago holy shit!!!! wild #i know a lot of what happens in later arcs bc i've been keeping up with the op fandom online #but it's weird to be reading chapters that i've never read before... new and fresh op content #(i stopped reading around chapter 750 btw)#(and this is from the sbs at the end of chapter 757)#one piece #zosan #kk talks about stuff #kk talks about op

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sainz100 · 3 months ago

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2024 Brazilian GP | x

#franco colapinto #autumn posts #I'm so conflicted about all the rumors!!#I want him to have a spot for 2025!! but rbr is kinda falling apart!! and we've seen how especially callous they can be 😢#I miss Daniel so much 🥺 I've been on my usual insta dives and everytime I see vcarb I still pause out of habit #still I agree with so many folks that its good he got away from rbr who never were going to give him the respect and opportunities!!#so I worry for Franco!!!#and poor Max gosh this FiA balogna and the car just not performing 🥲#tbh I've been hiding in like 2017 posts just soaking up content I missed from bygone days!#I spam my sideblog verstappen100 if anyone wants like mostly Daniel throwback yearning hehe 🙂‍↕️#idk the vibes feel off this GP especially so like...idk how to explain it!!#but anyways I think I'm just new and I'm sick irl so just kinda stewing in the feels #nothing some gifs can't fix 🙂‍↕️#and I have to work tomorrow 🥲 but then!!! freedom!!!#anyways just rambling...#I like to hide in the tags and the side blog but I know that #hiding how I feel is blocking me from making true connections in fandom!!#I worry I'll say something silly or something #but maybe I should be more brave instead of hiding #oh anyways!!!#if you're reading all this!! thank you! hehe nothing huge just feeling dumping before slumber 😴#I hope all is well!!#sending good energy out to Franco on such a hard weekend #and to Daniel hopefully chilling and dreaming up something excellent 💞#and to y'all!! have a good night morning and afternoon!! 🌙☀️☁️#going to add a few more photos before I go!!

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traumasurvivors · 1 month ago

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I try really hard not to do this because I feel so guilty over asking for any type of help, but I am in a really desperate position. I know I recently asked for help when our bank screwed us over, but my living situation has changed. And I am desperate to get out of it. I’m in so much debt I can’t actively change anything at this moment but I really need to.

I really, really hate to ask but I would really appreciate any help spreading the word about my business @flappyhappystim. This is an advertising post that I share on that blog.

I also have a ko-fi .

I also have some digital books I wrote on Etsy for $1 CAD. This is a book about my healing, and this is a poetry book. As well as a digital workbook for $6 CAD

I really appreciate any spreading of this post, or my post about my business.

Edit: I got an ask about my PayPal and I think this is the link for it.

#i know this won't stop the haters #but i am in a really bad place #and i am really emotional fragile #and if you could please think twice before sending me hate about this #i'd really appreciate it #because i just feel emotionally broken and tired #i've been crying about this since i discovered it an hour ago #personal #finances #idk what else to tag this as so people can blacklist #but tumblr won't come after my post

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butchjesus · 8 months ago

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ok but for real now. since tiktok has so throughly disappointed on this trend. who is your strangest hear me out / most bizarre crush? freaks and headscratchers only edition

#please 👁👁 I am so fascinated by this.#also I need to know I'm not the only one with double-take worthy and more-than-a-little-embarrassing taste #hear me out #ask meme #polls #memes #original #blorbos #blorboposting #fictional crush #(they dont have to be characters or even people. skys the limit and not even really because space and aliens and stuff)#monster lover #tag meme #(I've posted about some of mine here before but none of you in a million billion years would guess who the newest one is. its not even that #creative or out there just. head in my hands how did I get here kinda situation)

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beargregor · 19 days ago

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wait i'm curious, what makes you say that gregor doesn't like everyone else (if i read that post right)? just curious since i've never seen anyone else say that

i don't necessarily think gregor dislikes everyone else at lcb but i do think that gregor is an incredibly petty person that isn't nearly as close to the rest of the sinners and even outright dislikes some of them cough cough rodya cough cough which a lot of people just Refuse to see because he's as much of a doormat as he is. there's several examples i could get into to try and prove my point however i'll just focus on what i personally think to be the biggest ones.

additionally, this is going to be kind of long, so i'm adding a read more. read more! read it. sorry for being so wordy. i have several diseases.

Pt1. gregor is the type to try and get along at least decently with everyone, especially if he gets a good first impression from them.

this is less a point in favor of gregor's distance w/ the rest of the sinners and more just a contributing factor to it. once again there's several examples i could point to here but i think the most in your face one happened in canto I with yuri, as several people have pointed out. even before gregor comes clean about growing attached to her as quickly as he did because she reminds him of his sister, we get this interaction.

i'll go ahead and make the disclaimer now that i don't necessarily think gregor is the most reliable of narrators, especially when it comes to his feelings and interactions with most people, but from the way he acts when the topic of yuri comes up (and the way we still see him act even all the way up to c7, nearly a whole year after yuri's death) i don't see reason to question his sentiment here. gregor immediately got that aya and yuri were close, potentially even taking note of their traded belts, and went out of his way to get something nice for yuri despite hardly knowing her.

i feel like a lot of people have forgotten as much, especially since it's been so long since c1, but gregor actually spent a good bit of season 1 doing the exact same thing with the other sinners! gregor reads a connection between him and ishmael pretty quickly despite getting off to a rocky start

mostly because gregor can tell that ishmael is pretty sardonic in a very similar way to him. there's been multiple instances where ishmael and gregor have essentially expressed the same sentiment at different moments, most notably gregor's little argument after ishmael got shot with a decay ampule in c4

and ishmael's response to pilot talking about self-sacrifice in c5

i could go ahead and pull up more examples, but in general pm has gone out of their way to show us that gregor and ishmael are pretty similar, so it makes sense for gregor to assume that they're friends, right?

this will be pushpin 1. keep note of this for Later.

ishmael's only the first sinner we see gregor trying to do this with in s1, we also see him try it out with heathcliff, sinclair, and ryoushuu

he's tried to get along with charon, being one of very few sinners that we've seen actually try to establish a connection with her at all

even rodya, despite my insistence that gregor doesn't like her nearly as much as the fandom thinks he does

all of these seem pretty fine and dandy, right? sure it frequently leans towards self-degradation, micromanaging, and commiseration, but gregor can at least be pretty chummy with most of the sinners, can't he?

Pt2. hell's chicken was more than just comic relief guys please

i'm fully aware that this is quite the hot take, but i think hell's chicken deserves a lot more credit for character writing than the fandom gives it. hell's chicken gave us foreshadowing for several events, such as the donqui bloodfiend reveal

heathcliff's distortion in c6 (as well as hong lu's highly speculated distortion at some point in the future)

and ryoushuu and sinclair's continued connection by making him the odd one out on her team

which, hey! that implies something about gregor's odd one out, don quixote, too, doesn't it? yes. yes it does. that's pushpin 2. keep note of that for later.

speaking of pushpins, hey! that's pushpin 1!

splitting into teams is one of the major events in hell's chicken, and most of the sinner's choices are either motivated by very little, backhanded, or motivated primarily by not wanting to be on the opposite leader's side. i didn't include all of the picks, just because i feel like including most of them already gets this across, but i think gregor took one major thing from this: most of the sinners, when push comes to shove, will only side with gregor when they refuse to or can't take his opponent's side.

now, don't get me wrong, i'm fully aware that this is primarily intended to be comedic relief, but when gregor is being described as having his trust broken by ishmael or nearly crying because no one on his team properly sided with him for him, i feel like it's pretty fair to read into this.

something that i think is pretty important to remember in conjunction with this is that we know that gregor is the type to hold a grudge, both from his general attitude towards the G corp soldiers in c1 as well as his continued distaste for vergilius

even beyond the splitting into teams of hell's chicken, the sinners have given gregor plenty of reasons to feel bitter. i feel like this is something people have noticed but haven't really put a finger on, but it's kind of wild just how often the rest of the sinners make gregor the butt of the joke

and sure, we could argue that a fair few of these aren't really made with any ill intent. quite a bit of it could have been meant as harmless teasing, but with gregor being more sensitive than most, it coming from nearly all sides, and as often as it does? yeah, i think he's prone to taking it a bit personally.

Pt3. yes i do still think gregor was the third most important character in canto VII you guys gotta hear me out okay

of course, all of this leads up to the bit of the story i highlighted, doesn't it? c7? i totally get why people haven't really picked up on all the gregor things i did in it, seeing as they were mostly not *directly* said about him or by him.

personally, i think that gregor's distaste for talking about himself on any serious level and thus leading to him getting sort of "sidelined" narratively (which i take issue with that claim, but still. it's effective for getting what i mean across atm) is supposed to lead players to take a deeper look at the times gregor gets held up to other characters and compare and contrast what's being said about them by the matchup. as i showed earlier with his immediate latching onto ishmael, i think this is something gregor himself is at least partially aware of too.

so, that begs the question, who was gregor compared to in canto VII that makes me think it's one of the most critical pieces in understanding his character?

really, i'd like to avoid getting too lost in the analysis of this canto specifically, since i'd like to do a proper post about this later, but i figure i can bury the lede a little before doing it properly.

c7 features several characters being made to perform in sansón's play, acting out the relevant backstory for this segment of the plot. a lot of these characters have rather direct, degrading reasons for playing the roles they do.

outis, a character with an inflated ego who wants her journey to have a purpose, is made to play an aimlessly wandering villager with a single line.

hong lu and ryoushuu, two characters for whom families and the expectations placed upon them are likely going to play a major role, are made to play bloodfiends.

rodya, a character who resents her lot in life and is constantly shown to be eager to leave her destitution behind her and become someone special, is made to play a helpless villager that's too poor to even offer any money to the hero that saves her.

heathcliff, a character that has spent most of his life getting dehumanized by comparing him to beastly animals, is made to play a literal bear whose sole purpose in the plot is to get beat up and then quickly left by the wayside.

sinclair, a character that has two opposed parties essentially treating him as a macguffin to procure for their side, is made to play the character who was arguably the catalyst for this entire canto, not to mention playing a decently major role in ruina.

our star don quixote is made to play her father, the first kindred, but there's someone by their side the entire time, isn't there? don quixote's dear, steadfastly loyal companion. a character which don quixote has tasked themself with getting to come out of their shell?

hello again, pushpin 2.

gregor has been made to play our unreachable star, sancho. someone had to, of course. you can't really tell a story without it's main character, now can you?

now, i should once again give a disclaimer. i am not trying to say that i think adapting what happens to donqui/sancho in c7 to gregor is the road pm is going to take here, not only would that toe a bit past the line of foreshadowing, but it'd also just amount to rehashing that plotline again, which i don't think would make for a particularly exciting story.

what i DO think is that we can take a lot of the things that are said to either directly be the case for sancho and use them to inform how we see gregor.

and god, does playing sancho have some fucking implications for our favorite ossan archetype.

starting off, the earliest moment we get to see of sancho is quite literally her just waiting for death to take her in a pile of ashes.

which, i should remind everyone, is actually pretty damn close to what happens to gregor's literary counterpart at the end of the metamorphosis. gregor samsa experiences one final breaking point that pushes him over the edge and makes him decide to just wait for starvation to take him.

gregor and sancho both consider themselves to no longer be human, something which sancho goes out of her way to highlight repeatedly throughout the canto and gregor is quick to get defensive on her behalf for when outis starts really tearing into her

sancho spends quite a lot of this story denying herself the joys of community and friendship, despite knowing that, even with the rest of the sinners frequently making jokes at her expense and outright insulting her, they were things that she desperately craved.

and, while this is getting into my "outis is a red herring meant to distract us from gregor's eventual betrayal" theorizing, i also think it's worth noting for this discussion that sancho's fellow kindreds, her family, all seem to be under the impression that she dislikes them and ultimately her departure was an act of betrayal

and that, despite gregor being one of LCB's resident mood makers and attempted conflict de-escalators, one of the sinners that's most prone to making appeals to the bonds they've all forged together, only him and faust remained silent during everyone's speech

so yeah, i think there's quite a lot of little details and hints building up to the reveal that gregor's not quite as fond of everyone as he presents himself to be. i do think a lot of this ultimately comes down to gregor getting in the way of his own happiness, similarly to donqui, particularly because he's been frequently portrayed as something of a self fulfilling prophecy, especially by giving him as many christ allegories as they have by way of priest and garden of thorns. gregor is convinced that the rest of the sinners don't like him because he's not convinced anyone could like him, so he convinces himself that he hates them because why should he care if someone that he hates hates him too?

a lot of this ultimately ties back to my personal interpretation of what happens in the metamorphosis as well as my own theories regarding all the times gregor has made weird callbacks and references to lobcorp and ruina, but yeah. i think about this guy and his deeper characterization a fairly normal amount, i think.

to end this off i'll highlight one of my favorite little "gregor is fucking seething and trying so hard to keep it cool" moments, in the credits CG for c7 we see rodya teasing him by drawing a little horse on his window and actively pointing and laughing at it, which gregor really doesn't seem all too pleased about.

i personally think this ties into the other cruel part of sansón forcing gregor to play rocinante, which is the more literal "he's actually just straight up playing rocinante" side of things. gregor was quite literally made to play something less than human, less than even animal really, as he was reduced to nothing more than the shoes don quixote wore as she got to play the leading role. sansón directly makes jokes about gregor being nothing more than shoes in the play twice, which adds to this reading, i think.

this, imo, really plays into the adaptation of the metamorphosis! i've seen a lot of readings for the book that posit that, despite being the protagonist, gregor samsa can't really be considered the main character due to nearly everything he experiences in it being used to further his family's character development at his expense, which i think fits nicely with limbus gregor seemingly having the most said about him through indirect means by holding him up to other characters. also it's rodya carelessly making fun of His Big Major Insecurities™ again like she did in c1 which i always find fun. rodya i love you but god you're the worst.

#beargregor's property #limbus company #project moon #lcb gregor #something to bear in mind #beargregor's analysis #beargregor's theories #do i bother tagging both of those i feel like i do #oh also.#long post #sorry guys i promised i would try and stay brief when i set out to respond to this ask and before i knew it seven hours passed #my bad #does this give me normal gregor fan cred #i'm fully preparing myself to be screenshotted and posted to twitter or reddit with people making fun of my reading of him but idrc honestl #also i'm really hoping that LCB regular check up has donqui actually like #confront gregor about the fact that he was playing her in sansón's plays #i've seen people insinuate that any deeper reading to the roles they got in them is doing too much #and while i really don't agree with that just due to how much sansón fit the roles to be as cruel as possible to their sinners #i do think at the very bare minimum that the comparisons drawn between gregor and sancho are Very Intentional #despite gregor's supposed lack of proper Deep character moments people love to claim i really do think that we know a lot about him #significantly more than people think we do #just because so much of it has been told to us indirectly or has this aspect of plausible deniability to it #just due to gregor being the way he is #a lot of these smaller subtler details in his proper main writing get highlighted more in his IDs and EGO #like gregor's pettiness and grudge holding in AEDD or the aforementioned self-fulfilling prophecy-ness of priest and garden of thorns #anyway. that's it. gregor is fat by the way did i mention that. also very hairy. refer to my url for more details.#ignore how i just can't shut up about him i promise i'm normal. i promise it's over i can rant about him more another day. i swear.

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