#idk how known this song is for english speaking people

[aprilthearcher]

burning red [roman roy x reader]

word count: 1.8k

[somewhat angst]

warnings: curse words, ooc roman ?, english is not my first language, not edited, rushed ending.

a/n: somewhat inspired by “red” and “false god” by taylor, idk i was just listening to these two songs on loop. i’m also supposed to be studying, but instead i wrote this, so enjoy! love me some greg sprinkles, couldn’t not include him. alsooo, this could read as being part of the same story as my previous roman blurb, but you won't have any problems if you haven't read it.

Loving Roman was complicated yet insanely easy, too tiresome at times and then incredibly invigorating. He had that effect on people, or maybe just her. Everyone else was probably too complicated for her to like. Not funny enough, not witty or smart enough, not loud enough. No one was Roman enough, not even across the whole damn world. 

Getting him off her mind had been more difficult than she’d expected, probably because (Y/N) only realised her feelings for him after she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had taken over her whole body without knowing. It was Roman’s lips she imagined when kissing blonde, ginger, brunette guys at pubs; it were Roman’s eyes she thought of when her friends would ask her about her favourite colour; it was Roman’s face she conjured up in her head when they’d ask about her type of man. 

At first, she believed it to be some sort of sick joke the Universe was trying to play on her: discovering she had feelings for her long-time friend — one she’d known since they were in diapers, who would grab her by her ponytail whenever she was paying attention to his siblings instead of him (just him) —, barely two or three weeks in her first year of university, a university that was on a whole other continent, separated by an entire ocean. Still, (Y/N) knew she could fly back home in a couple of hours — “I’ll arrange a jet for you if you wanna come down”, her dad would always say over the phone —, but the idea of seeing him again with this new information in her head and heart (that couldn’t help but jump at the mention of him) terrified her.

Her mind would make her remember him and his antics in the worst possible times: while dancing with some random guy at a club, his hands on her hips, the cheap cologne contrasting the rich scented one Roman couldn’t get enough of. On a first date, set up by her friends who believed she had to let go of this “prude” behaviour and just let someone take her to their bed. When joking with the guys that approached her and her friends at the bar, knowing exactly what Roman would think of them, the cruel comments he’d throw, the silly faces. The soft eyes when they were both too drunk to even speak a coherent sentence, although most times nothing was coherent with Roman. She had tried looking for those same bright eyes; once more, she ended up disappointed. None of them were Roman. None of them ever will be, no matter how much (Y/N) tried to shape them into a replica of him. All of Roman was unique. 

Hence, the dreadful turmoil inside her stomach once Shiv, with some tint of malice in her eyes directed at Roman, introduced her to Tabitha. “Roman’s companion”, she’d said. The blonde, curly haired woman greeted (Y/N) with an eager smile on her face. She said her name at the same time both of them shook hands. A voice inside her head told her this was all wrong. How long? Where did it happen? Why? Why? Why now that she was back?

“Oh, you don’t need to tell me your name,” Tabitha mentioned playfully, a short roll of her eyes a second later. “You’re all Roman’s been talking about lately”.

“Only lately?” Shiv laughed, taking a sip from her glass she focused her eyes on Roman , then (Y/N). “Roman’s always talking about (Y/N). I mean, he was practically her lap dog when they were children.”

“Oh, fuck off Siobhan,” Roman bark back.

“Well, he only mentioned you as of now.” The knot in her stomach tightened. The worst part was she could see Tabitha hadn’t said it out of spite, nor jealousy, but as a fleeting comment to add something more to the conversation.

He hadn’t mentioned her to Tabitha? Not even once? She had tried everything to block him out of her head, to keep him out of her dreams and fantasies; to catch herself every time she was going to bring up him in a conversation again, and he didn’t say her name until he found out (Y/N) was coming back to New York? What kind of sick fuck was he? What kind of sick fuck was she, devoting probably her whole life to Roman fucking Roy?

“Oh,” (Y/N) managed to croak out before her father appeared beside her and whispered in her ear that she should spend some time chatting with the other guests.

                                                       * * *

Cousin Greg was great company, quite weird before you took in the awkwardness that seemed to surround him and make him stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of all these old, rich people, but great nonetheless. He had asked her about her years in London, what she studied and what she did for fun, her friends and hobbies. (Y/N) found herself enjoying the night, sitting on a couch by his side, meanwhile both of their cheeks were getting rosier and rosier with every new cup of alcohol brought to them. Greg was in the middle of telling her about how he had screwed up the first day at his job on one of the parks owned by Waystar, cracking up from time to time from how she tried to hide her laugh in order to keep the attention away from them, when two hands settled on his shoulders, hard and making a noise that was apparent that the gesture was meant to at least hurt him a little. Roman was behind him with a clench jaw and big, maniac eyes. 

“Greeeg, I think Tom was looking for you, man”.

“Oh, really?” Greg turned his upper body in Roman’s direction, which from the side looked somewhat weird because of his tall, lanky form. “Because, because I just saw him and he didn’t say anything”.

“Yes, oh really, man. And he said if you didn’t go talk to him right now, he would fire your sorry ass”.

Greg was on his feet quicker than she'd expected after seeing him drown glass after glass with her. He towered over her for a moment, saying a quick “see you later” before going in search of Tom. 

“You’re mean, Roman”.

“Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t fucking know”. 

They fell silent for a second. Around them, people were still in mindless conversation, setting down empty cups on the waiter’s tray while picking up new ones from another one. Alcohol seemed to be the only way to survive a family gathering at the Roy’s, even a harmless one. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Roman asked. She turned her head to the right to face him, he was already looking at her. His eyes no longer had the maniac fog blurring them, there was now a tranquil pool of honey.

                                                    ***

“My dad is probably gonna be mad if he finds out I ditched the party”.

“Please, (Y/N), since when did you become such a goody two shoes?” Roman leaned against the railing of the terrace, following her with his eyes while she approached him and finally set her elbows on top of the banister. From this position, he looked taller. “Don’t tell me you were like this in London. I mean, with no one to hover over you, you sure had a looot to do, didn’t you?”

“I went to London to study, remember? Not to go out and get drunk every night.”

“Well, I’m sure if you had been with me, you could’ve done both.”

“Yeah, probably, but you weren’t with me.”

“Whose fault is that, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyebrows raised.

“Are you saying it was my fault? We haven’t seen each other for how long and it was all my fault?”

“Why are you acting like it isn’t? It literally is, (Y/N), you left m.. you left and, and you never came back.” He had walked a few steps away from her. 

“It’s not like you couldn’t have visited, Roman. Just ask daddy for one of his jets, it’s literally that easy.”

“Yes, but - but you left, (Y/N). You left, and it’s not like you chose some university a state away, you chose one a whole continent away! That’s got to mean something!”

“As if Roman fucking Roy couldn’t get one goddamn plane and fly over to London!” She had abandoned her previous position, now fully facing Roman, who was still a couple of feet away, getting closer to the door. He was trying to run, just like it he always did whenever they fought.

“I didn’t - I didn’t want you to get annoyed by me! To realise what a true moron I was. Then you barely talked to me after you arrived at your fancy university and - and started your very difficult subjects.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes in confusion for a moment. Though it was easier to throw everything at him, (Y/N) knew that she was also responsible for their lack of communication over these last years. 

Only the bustling, almost never-ending nightlife of New York could be heard. Her chest hurted, her eyes would fill with tears at any point now. She was tired and drunk, and just fucking missed Roman too much for them to be fighting the first night she was back in the city.

“Now you are not saying anything?” Roman broke the silence. He was closer to the door, she noticed. “You know what? Fuck you, (Y/N). Fuck you for making feel all this – all this fucking, fucking shit!”

“What fucking shit?” She asked quietly, desperate for an answer, the answer.

“I - I don’t know what fucking shit, just shit, okay?”

“Say it.”

Roman didn’t respond, instead he turned her back on her, walking towards the door. Before he could reach the handle, she screamed at him.

“Fucking say it, Roman.”

“I’ve just told you, I don’t know. It’s just shit, okay? All of it,” he screamed back, opening up his arms, exaggerating his point. “I - I run out of breath and then my chest is all funny, and and I hate seeing you laughing with fucking Greg of all people. It’s shit, fucking shit!”

Drawing closer to him, she tested his limits. He was breathing hard from all the screaming and moving around the terrace to put distance between them, but he didn’t stop when (Y/N) got so close their bodies were almost touching. It was her with whom physical closeness wasn’t a problem, he always told himself it was because of how close they were pretty much their whole lives.

They only looked at each other for a few moments, the waves of conflict had calmed down fast and efficiently enough that for anyone else it would seem like nothing had happened between them. 

Roman wished — deep, deep down — that they could stay like this forever, without having to go back and confront his family, especially his father; that they could make this terrace, above Logan’s place ironically enough, a little haven, only for them; that they would never be found.

[nerdygaymormon]

Idk if you'd know this, but has the Word of Wisdom been properly canonized in the Church or are we just... Trusting it? Not that God hasnt asked people to change their diets before, but I'm curious to know how vetted it is.

The short answer is if it is in the scriptures, then it has been canonized. Since the Word of Wisdom is in the Doctrine & Covenants, it is considered part of the LDS canon.

In the LDS Church, usually something is considered canonized if it is included in the scriptures (there's two notable exceptions, each regarding the Bible). The LDS Church currently has 4 books in its scriptural canon:

1. Authorized King James Version as the official scriptural text of the Bible (other versions of the Bible are used in non-English-speaking countries). Although there's two exceptions to this:

a) The manuscripts of the Joseph Smith Translation of the Bible states that "the Songs of Solomon are not inspired scripture," and therefore it is not included in LDS canon and rarely studied by members of the LDS Church. However, it is still printed in every version of the King James Bible published by the church.

b) Although the Apocrypha was part of the 1611 edition of the KJV, the LDS Church does not use the Apocrypha as part of its canon. Joseph Smith taught that while the Apocrypha was not to be relied on for doctrine, it was potentially useful when read with a spirit of discernment.

2. Book of Mormon

3. Doctrine and Covenants (D&C)

4. Pearl of Great Price (containing the Book of Moses, the Book of Abraham, Joseph Smith–Matthew, Joseph Smith–History, and the Articles of Faith)

The LDS Church's scriptures are printed together with several non-canonized study aids, including the maps, photographs, a Bible Dictionary, a gazetteer, summaries at the beginning of each chapter, a topical guide, an index, footnotes, cross references, and excerpts from Joseph Smith Translation of the Bible

LDS Church president Harold B. Lee taught "The only one authorized to bring forth any new doctrine is the President of the Church, who, when he does, will declare it as revelation from God, and it will be so accepted by the Council of the Twelve and sustained by the body of the Church." Here is the history of this happening in the LDS Church:

June 9, 1830: First conference of the church, The Articles and Covenants of the Church of Christ, now known as D&C 20. If the Bible and Book of Mormon were not sustained on April 6th at the first meeting of the Church, then they were by default when the Articles and Covenants were sustained. (see D&C 20:8-11)

August 17, 1835: Select revelations from Joseph Smith were unanimously accepted as scripture. These were later printed in the D&C. (this includes the Word of Wisdom)

October 10, 1880: The Pearl of Great Price was unanimously sustained as scripture. Also at that time, other revelations in the Doctrine and Covenants – which had not been accepted as scripture in 1835 because they were received after that date – were unanimously accepted as scripture.

October 6, 1890: Official Declaration 1 was accepted unanimously as scripture. It later began to be published in the Doctrine and Covenants.

April 3, 1976: Two visions (one received by Joseph Smith and the other by Joseph F. Smith) were sustained as scripture and added to the Pearl of Great Price. (The two visions were later moved to the D&C as sections 137 and 138.)

September 30, 1978: Official Declaration 2 was sustained unanimously as scripture. It immediately was added to the Doctrine and Covenants.

————————————————————

The revelation known as the Word of Wisdom was received in 1833 and first published by the Church in the 1835 Doctrine and Covenants, it was viewed as scripture but wasn't seen as binding for many years. The original revelation was given “not by commandment or constraint,” but rather as a “word of wisdom.” It would take decades for it to be accepted as a requirement for Latter-day Saints

In 1834, the Kirtland high council decided that those who were taught the Word of Wisdom but didn't follow it were unworthy to hold an office in the Church. A few years later the Missouri high council made a similar decision. Records indicate there were some members who were reprimanded for not following the Word of Wisdom, and even excommunicated for a pattern of disobedience. Which is interesting since the revelation only describes blessings for keeping it and does not give punishments for not following it.

During the Nauvoo period, the Word of Wisdom was not emphasized and there seems to have been a more relaxed attitude about it.

In 1842, Hyrum Smith said that 'hot drinks' refers to coffee and tea. Ever since this has been the accepted interpretation.

After the Saints moved to Utah, in the 1851 General Conference, Church patriarch John Smith spoke on the Word of Wisdom and Brigham Young proposed all Saints formally covenant to abstain from those things prohibited in the Word of Wisdom. (This seems to be where the attitude of only those parts of the Word of Wisdom, what to avoid, are emphasized but not the parts of what we should eat). Despite this, it seems even Brigham Young didn't completely follow this instruction until 1862.

In the 1860s and 70s, there was a renewed emphasis on the Word of Wisdom, but it was not required as a test of membership.

In 1883, the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve commit to more fully live the Word of Wisdom, and others are encouraged to follow their example. By 1900, the majority of general and local leaders were following it.

In 1902, leaders were being instructed to refuse temple recommends to flagrant violators of the Word of Wisdom, though to still be lenient with others.

In 1905, it was taught that following the Word of Wisdom is a requirement to hold leadership positions.

In 1906, the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve began using water instead of wine in their sacrament meetings.

By 1915, living the Word of Wisdom was required for young or middle-aged men to be ordained to the priesthood or be given a temple recommend.

In 1921, adherence to the Word of Wisdom was required to be admitted to the temple.

————————————————————

For me, personally, I'm fine with the Word of Wisdom. Dietary rules are common in religion. Judaism, Islam, Sikhism, and Hinduism also have dietary codes.

In a way, such codes can feel like a parent who is concerned about what you're eating for lunch, it's a way of showing concern for us. However, I think there are two main purposes to such codes.

One is to implement health rules about what to eat, including sanitary measures, and how to ethically/morally approach eating meat (or forbidding meat) because it requires the death of another living creature.

The other purpose of these codes is they are a way to distinguish us as a group, to separate us from other people amongst whom we live. If we're at a company meeting where food is served, Mormons may notice who else has chosen not to have coffee or tea and wonder if they're also members of the LDS church, while non-members are unaware of this shibboleth.

To go along with these codes as cultural markers, I have observed that when someone is separating themselves from the LDS church, often one of the first things they'll do is have their first beer or cup of coffee. It’s s way of breaking that identity marker.

It is interesting that the Word of Wisdom includes prohibitions against alcohol when the consumption of wine is widely reported in the Bible. It highlights that there isn't consistency among these different religious dietary codes.

I think of Peter's vision in the New Testament where he is commanded to eat animals which were prohibited under Jewish law. God declares that all these animals are clean, meaning they are okay to eat. And the apostle Paul taught that non-Jewish converts were not required to eat kosher, however it would be helpful if they'd abstain from eating unkosher foods around their Jewish fellows so as not to offend them.

These two stories inform my opinion about the Word of Wisdom. I am LDS and follow our traditions against coffee, tea, tobacco, and alcohol, however I don't view breaking these norms as a sin. The revelation specifically says this is not a commandment, so it seems to me to be more of a cultural marker. One reason I choose to not drink coffee is it would concern or offend my fellow LDS friends, some because they think of it as a sin and others because they see it as me separating myself from this community

[shadyruinskryptonite]

ATLA Culture HC

Sorry I have a few notes on this one

A/N Since most of Titan Bending's readership is from AOT, I want to apologize that this doesn't have any reference to that world in it. I just don't have enough personal thoughts to add to the world-building from AOT to do an entire post like this.

A/N Even though there's no mention of AOT in the HC themselves, I still did the same tags for this as my fic because I want anyone that might read my fic to still see these because they are kind of important for upcoming chapters.

A/N I mention different songs and artists throughout this post. Let me know if you’d like me to make playlists for each of the nations. I think that could be fun and might do it anyway.

Idk if this is a headcanon or actual canon but music is super important to all of the cultures in ATLA

I talked about this a bit in my fic Titan Bending, but with English being my first language, I sort of consider that to be a universal language that most people learn in tandem with their native language (that’s how my brain makes sense of what should be language barriers between, well, everyone)

Northern and Southern Watertribe

Their native language would be something like Russian (I’m thinking like the native tribes of Siberia.)

Sokka and Katara speak this native language.

Similar to how a language like Spanish has morphed into different dialects, there are different dialects of the language for the north and the south.

There are a lot of sea shanties that are important to the culture as well as warrior songs. This includes basically anything by SKÁLD.

I also see songs like Savage Daughter being from the Watertribes.

The song Labour by Paris Paloma is a sort of revolutionary cry amongst the women of the Northern Watertribe.

Sokka and Katara are both really good singers

Sokka plays guitar

Again, this might be actual canon and not just in my head but the beads that women wear in their hair directly correlate to how wealthy they are. I’m almost positive I saw this in a video now that I’m typing it, so I’m sorry I can’t give that creator credit, but an example is that Katara’s classic hair loopies and braid are a much more functional hairstyle for daily work than Yue’s extravagant hair.

Fire Nation

So the Fire Nation is obviously based on Imperial Japan, that’s not a headcanon that’s fact. As such, they would speak Japanese.

I listen to a lot of Asian music - Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Thai, Vietnamese. I have found a wide variety of songs that I would sort of characterize as “Fire Nation.” Thus, I HC that each of the Fire Nation colonies have developed thier own languages which is how I reconcile in my noggin all of the different songs I attribute to the Fire Nation

Earth Kingdom

It’s widely known that the Earth Kingdom is very diverse, so with that comes a lot of different cultures melding together.

The Sand Benders definitely speak Arabic. They were clearly designed with a sort of Middle Eastern aesthetic in mind, so I really hope that doesn’t come across as racist in any way, I just speak Arabic and I really want them to.

Side note to this, my HC takes it a step further and I want to believe that they’re Bedouin because I’ve done a lot of research into the Bedouin and when I lived in Jordan I got to experience a lot of their culture and they’re who I know the most about so if I ever write about the Sand Benders, those are most likely the customs I will incorporate

All of the romance languages are present throughout the Earth Kingdom

Ba Sing Se has different districts for the different cultures throughout the Earth Kingdom and there’s a big market with live music in the Inner Ring.

@mochminnie @sseleniaa @naruwitch Tagging you all so you don't miss this, even though it's not directly a part of the story <3

[wonderful-d0g]

idk how to feel about the phenomenon of chinese stuff always being used as jokes in the english-speaking* world. see: chinese songs exclusively being used as meme songs, normal videos of people becoming memes purely because they're speaking chinese, etc. makes me feel weird but i feel like letting that be known is losing. like i'm just not in on the joke, and the only reason i'm butthurt is because i don't get it

...surely, some people must've become more interested in chinese language and/or culture because of this constant exposure, but i feel like that conversion rate's gotta be TINY since the stuff that goes viral is usually nonsense. yeah there are many funny and bizarre douyin videos (too many.) but it's quite difficult to tell if english-speakers find it funny because it's funny, or because it's chinese. often i feel like i'm giving the benefit of the doubt and people definitely only find it funny because "haha chinese"

[acdiazterbi]

Why are you all bitching about the results??? We have the best winning end possible: winning among the audience, getting the song popular in Europe and not having to go bankrupt to host the show next year! This shit is crazy expensive, let our dear neighbors pay for it

okay im tired but cant sleep so we'll see how well i can explain myself.

like i guess i get your point but also finland as a country we aren't the biggest, we aren't the most well known. we aren't even scandinavian but constantly get lumped in to the same category as English seems to use Scandinavia and the Nordic Countries as synonyms.

we are hugely influenced by Scandinavian culture because of our shared history but we aren't the same, and our language is not the same. not even close.

for centuries we have been considered this savage barbarian people who speak our weird uncivilized tongue, but we did that, won the hearts of Europe with our weird language not like most of our other fellow European friends.

also add this was a loss against sweden it hurts even more bc we have this big brother complex about them due to this centuries of being thought of as less.

also getting to host eurovision it's your country's turn to shine, to share your culture, your beauty your talent. and we are patriotic, we are proud of our weird beautiful culture and country and i wish we got to share that more and not just be considered the same as sweden (or sometimes russia).

we are our own country with our own culture with our own customs and or own language and we need the world to know that more. and i also just want people to be proud of their own language no matter how weird and forget about this indo-european supremacy we've been stuck in for centuries.

ok this got long and idk if i make any sense but it's just my feelings on the matter 😂😂

but you are of course allowed to feel differently

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

Thank you for creating this account, you are so brave.

Prefacing: I used to tolerate TS and her music when I was a teen and couldn't really avoid it. Now I'm 25 and I find her abhorrent as a human being.

(I'm not American and where I am from TS was never a Big Hit, unless we're talking 14 year old girls that eventually grow out of liking her. It's not entirely for a good reason, my country's a bit too conservative-brainwashed to like a self-proclained "girl boss" on a gov. level.)

Something that I noticed about that cult-like worship of that frankly boring woman is that most of the interesting shit about her is 1. made up 2. not about her music and I DO NOT understand how this is even considered a singer anymore.

Like, for example. A bunch of liberal queers like her because they take her bland music and fill it with their own meanings. Her lyrics are so soulless and boring and generic you can apply them to anything. You don't have to go listen to staples of quuer music like what drag queens, or queer women, or Black gay men create: because their music is visceral, it speaks onto real lived through opression that not everyone can relate to. But not with fucking TS! She writes the most TYPICAL line and a bunch of people assign some secret gay meaning to it. The amount of times I saw TS added to playlists for queer content is ridiculous. Like she wouldn't be half as popular if her music was regarded as what it is: straight white girl soliloquy.

The shit about her love life? Should not be fucking mentioned in regards to her as an artist. She's SO fucking fake. She will complain that people only see her as some girl who dates all those guys but she's the one fucking monetizing her love story. I'd understand if she didnt TRY TO but she fucking does! She knows she's bland and boring and she relies on people liking gossip enough to listen to her crap.

ok quick note when you said “liberal queers” it should be “queer liberals”. im assuming english isnt your first language so your native tongue has different grammatical rules but in this instance you put “queer” in front of “liberal.” i just don’t want you to be accused of being homophobic or anything so this is a quick note for you

you said you were 25 and everyone who’s been following this blog has been 20+ demographic in particular. i think it must be because we’re old enough to remember her entire journey starting w the 2009 kanye west mtv incident up until this moment. her staunchest swifties on here were born after the fearless release 💀

hmmmm i always wonder what people imply by Taylor Swift being a global superstar. like she’s isn’t popular in the entire continent of Africa but that doesn’t count apparently? and as much as she is popular in south asia, so much news is framed with a western perspective and all westerners think whiteness is default, and this includes taylor swift. i wouldnt be surprised if theyre inflating her popularity abroad as they are here in the states. idk

and so true! she’s known for her controversies and dating drama. even her music is known not for its success but ppl questioning the legitimacy of her grammys she’s received for her music.

also your gaylor hate—i understand. im not straight and i think gaylors were lobotomized by taylor swift’s music like genuinely these bitches have bricks for brains. there are soooooooo many better queer musicians especially musicians of color who write songs of their literal shared experience of queer love, identity, etc. but here they go theorizing that taylor seift and karlie kloss secretly dated 😭 it reminds me of this convo i had with my friend about gay people admiring/looking up to straight and cis people and labelling them as “gay icons.” its so stupid and reductive and continues to marginalize actual queer artists.

also talking abt taylor swift playlists i will never forget when i found spotify’s bad bunny x taylor swift playlist inspired by their photo from the 2023 grammys 💀 it was so dumb

“straight white girl soliloquy” PERIOD ANON! i need to start making a list of what you guys say cause its fkn fire

taylor swift embedded her relationships so deeply into her brand and music that its inseparable from herself. she really does define herself by her partners and her fans do too, which is why they expected this to be a joe alwyn album.

she really is so unoriginal and unremarkable and that’s why her thing WORKS. because to swifties she’s like “another everyday girl like you and me :)” 🙄 whatever. yuck!

[jeysbvck]

thank u to @aftermidnightwriting for the tag🥰

tea or coffee: neither tbh. if i had to choose then tea, but i never finish it.

dogs or cats: i honestly love them both, i grew up with both & i have one of each now. i think i may lean towards dogs, but that's just bc i have abandonment issues & all the dogs ive had and known have always wanted cuddles🤭

can you play an instrument? no. i used to play keyboard as a child, and i was bought a ukulele one birthday so i could learn (but it was stolen by an ex roommate) and i haven't bothered since (mainly bc I can't afford it)

whats your sign? aries sun, pisces moon, leo rising & aries venus. couldn't tell u what any of it means, but yeah.

favourite lyrics that pop into your head? ive had maroon by taylor swift in my head all day bc my brother text me last night about 911 s4x14 (if u know u know) so one of my fave lyrics from that song is "and i wake with your memory, over me, that's a real fucking legacy, to leave.

do u have any tattoos? yes i do, i have...22. my favourite ones are my dreamcatcher on my thigh, i have a buzzfeed unsolved/watcher one (shane and ryan as ghosts and shane still doesn't believe in ghosts), and my sun & moon one on my wrist.

favourite place you've ever traveled? ive never traveled anywhere that's nice.

what's the last movie you watched? quantumania.

what languages do you speak? just english. i did french in school, but had an abusive teacher and it really ruined learning languages for me. i did download duolingo to attempt to learn one, but i have opened it twice😭

do you have any hobbies? besides binging tv shows & then coming online to cry over my favourite characters? i guess writing is one, and reading, when i can concentrate. i don't really do anything else, with my mental health i find it incredibly hard to start new things.

you can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? omfg i want to hang out with all my babies!! id be tempted to say buck, bc it would be one disaster filled hour, but im gonna say karen sirko or daisy jones, i think spending just one hour with either of those people would change my life, and we'd have a blast!

compliment yourself: ugh do i have to???? i hate this kinda thing😑 hmmm, im strong as fuck. idk how the fuck im still alive after the past five years, but i am, so i guess that means im strong.

no pressure tags; @maplefire18 @nana1000night @likedovesinthewnd @eightiesfinalgirl @spookyspiderboiii @chaoticmunson

[demonstars]

Dude I've been wanting to start randomly sending asks to ppl, but whenever I try I never get a reply LMAO I've dubbed myself Most Boring Asker Ever

Anyways,,, any particular songs that remind you of DNF?? The more niche the better tbh

anogie my one advice is to just keep sending stuff, this fandom is full of lurkers (My Own Past) so obviously a lot of people get a lot of asks and that doesn't mean anything about you !! keep being you :]

as for your question i am so happy to answer! i have a tendency to rant so i'll make my followers a favour and hide it under the read more lol

i've already linked dnf to shakira (not exactly niche, but her spanish songs aren't well known withing the english community, so) and to el cuarteto de nos (again, not exactly niche, but it makes do since i doubt any of the eng speakers here have listened to it and It Fits).

As for some i haven't spoken about yet ... perderme contigo de bacilos is so fucking sweet and very them coded, i'll translate a bit for you!! (min 1:42 sort of)

So many people want to speak, want to comment, and criticize But in the end no one else understands this madness By your side I can fly, I can go up, I can go down Eternal love is like the sweetest ice cream And I want to enjoy it slowly, while it lasts

idk i love lyrics that refer how their relationship is really only,,, for them yknow?? it's something that is very sweet to me

now that's one in spanish by a lowkey obscure group but umm as to one in english, i'd say i haven't seen enough people linking dnf to sudden by hayley williams, the lyrics are dnf esque i'd say (frienship/hesitance in presence of the other/marking...). ALSO CRYSTAL CLEAR. btw. (credits to bella for this one tho i just remembered her manifesto of petals for armor).

ok also while i was thinking about this sunlight by hozier also came to mind, i wanna write a little ficlet with a lyric title

[completelyordinarycat]

Compiling my TFTR end notes so they clog up the fic less but tbh it's mostly for sentimental reasons. Fun Facts:

Chapter 3:

Harry rambling about the Pale as a way to talk about wanting to disappear is based on a real conversation I've had.

Chapter 4:

I used Korean as a Seol language because it's the Asian language I'm most familiar with. I speak neither Korean nor French fluently (I don't speak French at all) so please correct me.

For reference, I switch between sounding out, anglicised, and characters to indicate the way characters are hearing language and tonal differences.

I am a white person, so I'm not in any way the person to be talking about experiencing racism but it felt wrong to ignore the place that has in DE and Kim's story especially and it's role in cop work especially. I work a lot with people who speak English as an Additional language, so I've tried to respect the bravery it takes to speak a language like English when you aren't fluent, and base that conversation on actual ones I've had. While I've tried to be actively anti-racist from a narrative standpoint, I won't do that perfectly.

The fire, and its cause, is based on one where I've lived that I won't go into for obvious reasons.

Eomma is based on my Italian great-grandmothers.

Chapter 5:

if you see me misspelling characters names: no you don't. I learned via this fic that they aren't columbinimus clouds, which is the best spelling I can offer for what I spent my life reading and pronouncing. Plus side: every spell check I'd laugh because I'd get to remind myself it's spelled with CUM not COL.

I find it really, really hard to keep real life geography straight let alone in-game stuff. I'm taking Messina to be an Italy stand in because it's literally a city in Sicily, which is where my family is from, so when I saw it in the game I was like bwuh??? If that's wrong let me know and I'll change it.

The reference to culturally insensitive ads is a reference to a real pizza place where I live, as well as various chain Asian food places with actually completely racist ads.

Chapter 6:

Had Harry been not caught up in his own stuff, Katya's song choice would have been more illuminating to him than any other piece of information thus far. But there was a reason Judit said that sometimes we get caught up in the little internal things that drive us (b/c its foreshadowing) which is what Harry and Katya do. Idk if you’ve ever had a fight with someone that, while it has valid points, you think back on later and are like oh. That wasn’t really about that at all, was it? They’re both still learning about how to do healthy relationships.

Having a character whose entire character trait up until this point is being secretive meant I had to do so much exposition I would have rather included earlier ughhhh.

The entirety of the case discussed is plotted out in full despite being only mentioned briefly.

I never name male perpetrators because in reality they always get the headlines when their victims don't and it pisses me right off.

I am ACAB and continue to be (and yes, ACAB includes all these characters and the RCM) but what Katya and Liza are implied to be doing is a form of the PEACE method including focusing on establishing known factual events.

Some of the city's reflections of love are inspired by me re-reading this answer at the time of writing. I think "If you found love right now, you would run it straight into the ground in seconds," applies to Harry though he's not at a place where he's ready to understand what that would mean in this fic, imo.

I had to remind myself how to do medical notes for this and they may or may not be accurate, idk. They're meant to obscure information, though, so non-accuracy works in this regard. I'm a suicide attempt survivor so I tried to be sensitive about this. For a disclaimer, I’m not a medical professional and my work lies in health advocacy, hence how I know a lot of this. You can tell, because I abbreviated a medication which is one of the first things they tell you not to do but hey, it was on purpose. Here is a translation:

TW for domestic violence, attempted suicide (with potential context as to a method), abortion and miscarriage:

“02:00 5mg/h AC bolus pushed via NGT. 10ml/h IV saline bag replaced.

03:40 PT semi-conscious but non-responsive, pulling at NGT. IV sedative admin.

5:30 RR 27, HR 114, BP 160/110, other VS normal. ECG shows sinus pause reduced but bradyarrhythmia remains.”

This is basically not that important really lmao. I could have skipped it, in retrospect, but I think it gives some nice context to say that Katya is okay, health wise, in that moment. In summary: she’s being given activated charcoal via a naso-gastric tube which is a common treatment for some kinds of overdoses (and why you shouldn’t use activated charcoal tablets/toothpaste if you’re on prescription medicine!). She’s sick and her heart is being a bit funky, but she’s okay. You can say this is why Katya refers to this as a “heart attack” rather than what it is.

“Emergency Department (ED) admission 23:39 by neighbour for suspected overdose (OD), no known next of kin. Blood alcohol level .32, suspected drug use. Became physically aggressive when asked if deliberate OD, requiring intramuscular sedative. Transferred mental health ward 00:48. History: childhood Pale Related Acquired Brain Injury. 3xED presentation for gun shot wounds and stab wounds relating to RCM work. 2x presentation for injury relating to suspected assault and battery, patient denied intimate partner violence and left against medical advice both times. 3 pregnancies and 0 live births: ED presentation following miscarriage after fall; ED presentation for miscarriage after suspected assault and battery; ED presentation relating to suspected termination of pregnancy haemorrhage requiring blood transfusion and overnight observation.”

Again, I’m hoping no one is learning how to take case notes from this. I re-wrote this a million times, no lie, and if I saw this on someone’s records I would probably be like UM WTF. But for storytelling purposes, it got the job done lmao. I hope the original gets across what I wanted to get across: that something really significantly bad happened in Katya’s past that explains her motives and behaviour. I wrote it with the intention that Harry has just gotten enough information to want to push, but not to know that he shouldn’t. Having said that, you could make the argument that he should have known at the very least what the abbreviation for Assault and Battery is, so if he knew, would he have pushed anyway? Canonically, I think the answer is yes because even a high-empathy Harry can be remarkably tactless on a fail. Which is why I think this interaction is fun(? Oh wow I’m a freak) because it’s pushing (fanfic) Harry’s assumptions of himself and his goals. His stated goal is to do good, but he actively doesn’t do that in this scenario (though, neither was Katya, tbf).

In his defence, he’s right but he’s also kind of wrong. Yes, Katya’s background makes her empathise with this case a lot more, but the other implication that Harry misses is that she was actually involved with the case to some capacity while it was ongoing, and therefore she feels responsible

If you care about the OCs at all: Katya, as a mirror to Harry, has been going through a parallel to Harry's plot and she's really going through it. At the end of this chapter she is off-screen having her own "I don't want to be this kind of animal anymore" moment. We only just get to glimpse it.

Chapter 7:

Mee's Kitchen is a reference to a beloved take out place where I live, and again I'm sticking with Korean stuff because I'm most familiar with it.

Harry feeling like he has no control and slapping himself and being terrified of that is based off of my entire life lmao but particularly a few years ago when I started to slap myself without consciously deciding to do it. Then I 1. started dealing with some of my mental health stuff, and 2. started being treated for ADHD, and, surprise, it happens less now and when it does I don't freak out about it. Harry is very flippant about it, which I was too for a long time. I have a lot of body-focused repetitive behaviours and repetitive behaviours in general and no one has ever formally told me if that counted as one of those or not. I don't like to call out specific things as me obviously projecting but I also wanted to be clear that if you also have those kinds of behaviours, there's nothing wrong with you and don't listen to a guy in a fanfic. Talk to someone about it if you're worried. <3 I tagged it as self-harm because it seemed to cover all bases.

Chapter 8:

This was a hard chapter to walk the line on and if I wasn't doing the poetry chapter title thing, it would be titled "What if Rigorous Self-Critique Was More Helpful and Less An Opportunity to Hate Yourself into Self-Destruction, and Therefore Allowing Your Shitty Behaviour to Continue." And I never want to demonise addiction or mental health struggles and I hope I don’t. In my own experience to do better you do need to face up to things you've done that you’re not proud of. No joke, a lot of this fic is me exploring the idea of restorative justice and how and when we can forgive someone, especially when that person is a victim too. But I also don't want to woobify Harry and I recognise that I could have gone harder on this and that's a flaw in this work. Very few things destroyed me in DE like Rigorous Self-Critique. My reaction to reading it was physical horror and I still remember how it felt. And I just couldn't play that out to its extreme in this. It would be too much of a tone shift, for one. And for personal reasons, I just couldn't. Also, In editing this chapter, I removed a bit of context I didn’t fix. Specifically, there is no doubt in my mind that Harry is abusive towards Dora and I realise I may have presented it as if to imply he wasn’t. Harry was specifically asking about sexual violence, and that is what Jean investigated. I may fix this in the future, when I’m in a better headspace.

I love to write bi-Jean being no-homo, I don't know why. Jean constructs intricate rituals to allow himself to hear that he is loved.

Other fun facts, grabbed from my notes:

MoralIntern/Coalition politicians declaring that homo-sexuality no longer existed in Revachol is based on a comment from a politician where I live who said that there were no gay people in his state. It’s also very inspired by real life anti-homosexuality laws stemming from racism and colonialism and eugenics.

This fic works from the assumption that Dora ended that cycle of untreated mental illness and abuse by leaving as soon as she realised what was happening, by virtue of having a better education and resource access through being middle class. She is my idealised version of myself here haha. So the question becomes less, is Harry a bad guy? But what can Harry do to make sure he doesn’t continue a cycle of violence that probably pre-dates him by centuries?

I also can-opened myself writing this fic because I was like, why do I write stories about people being at their worst and still being loved? And my brain was like, because it’s the kind of story you needed to hear when you were at your worst, that it’s still possible to be loved, and never heard. And then I had a little cry :)

 If you think that Harry is a bad and an irredeemable man, you’re totally valid! Maybe I will write a fic about that at some point.

I love Jean now :)

I was like haha what if I make the chapter titles a poem from the city to Harry and immediately regretted it because I'm bad at poetry :)

[herzblutballade]

Songfic-Ficlets: Save Yourself (Part 1)

Language: English Genre: Fluff Characters: Cae & @marmeltier's OC Cynthia

Prompt: from "Save Yourself" by My Darkest Days

CN: Alcohol intoxication; drunk rambling, incl. a suggestion that might be mistaken for flirting; idk how to properly CN this but Cae at this point has this tendency to put the few nice people in his life on a pedestal and idealize them, sometimes to an uncomfortable extent, due to intense self-hatred and an inability to understand/accept that being around him could ever be beneficial to anyone, so watch out for that if that's something you find uncomfortable to read (I know I do sometimes)

Author's Note: Some more pre-relationship Cae/Cyn Fluff with a bittersweet edge to it I guess. I have more ficlets about these two inspired by the same song coming up btw! And no, this text (which I wrote way before any Whumpuary writing) was not meant to mirror the last one I wrote about them, but it somehow vaguely does, idk. Enjoy <3

You’re an angel with a haunted heart If you’re smart, you’ll run and protect yourself From the demon living in the dark

Sometimes, you find it hard to believe that Cynthia is not an angel.

The rational part of you knows that she isn’t; while you’re far from an expert on angels, you learned quite a bit about them growing up with a religious dad, you’ve even known an angel personally before, and you’re pretty sure there aren’t any actual signs that Cynthia might be anything other than an elf turned vampire — an earthly being just like you, although an exceptionally wondrous one.

But there’s another part of you that refuses to believe she could be anything but heavenly; that anything but divine intervention could possibly be responsible for a personified miracle like her finding its way into your life and deciding to stay by your side for some reason you can’t even begin to fathom.

»If you were smart«, you murmur, too drunk to think twice before you speak, »you would run from me, you know.«

Cynthia laughs, and the sound sends the best kind of tingle through your body, spreading from your chest all the way to your stomach. »Are you calling me stupid?«, she teases. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling down at you. You can tell by the way she looks at you that she’s much less tipsy than you and highly amused by your drunkenness.

»’Course not«, you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose with two fingers while squeezing your eyes shut. »You know exactly what I mean.« You can already feel the headache creeping in; you will definitely have some regrets tomorrow, but you don’t want to think about that yet, so you turn around to face Cynthia. Her lovely face is always a good distraction, even when you’re seeing double, one image melting into the other. »It’s just … You’re amazing, Cindy. The absolute best. You deserve the fucking world.« You let out a deep sigh. »And I’ve got demons you shouldn’t have to deal with.«

»You’re drunk, Cae.« She still seems amused, mostly lighthearted, but there’s a subtle serious edge to her voice when she says: »Go get some sleep and let the amazing Cindy decide for herself whose demons get to haunt her.«

»That makes so much sense«, you reply, slurring your speech, words trailing off into a yawn. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were until she mentioned sleep. »You’re probably right.«

A cheeky grin tugs at her lips. »Of course I am.«

»Will you stay the night anyway?« Again, the words are out before you’ve fully thought them through, and once you realize what they could imply, you hastily add: »In the guest room, I mean. Stay the night in the guest room.«

You both laugh, and for a fleeting moment, you could swear that she’s blushing, but you can’t quite tell when your vision is blurred and your senses are dulled by the pleasant buzz of alcohol, and it’s probably wishful thinking anyway.

»I will.« She presses a quick kiss to your cheek as she gently covers you with your blanket. »Good night, Cae. Come over if you need anything, alright?«

Angel or not, Cynthia must be god-sent. She might just be the best friend life has ever blessed you with.

[hausofmamadas]

I cant even fucking English anymore after this stg

═

✷ …she, the trust fund kid formerly known as Marcelo who initially met you at your dad’s jiu jitsu academy, currently partying her way across the globe with an increasingly dodgy set of cousins, exes, and assorted other rich vagabonds, and then you, the standoffish sparring tutor forever known as Mr. Tanaka’s kid, with an unhealthy penchant for taking your skills to street wanderings, just to see if you could.

kskskdjejejwjjehebebebebebebr this fucking fire introductiinbalready has me like strapping a helmet on, staring down the barrel of this cannon, and thinking to myself like “am I really gonna let her shoot me out of this thing???” AND YOU BET YOUR ASS I AM SKSKSJSJEJE but also there’s something about this that feels so Tarantino/Albert Pintó aka the guy who did Casa de Papel and Sky Rojo (idk if you like Tarantino but from me this is highly complimentary, sorry ksksks if you hate either of them) and I’m already assembling the soundtrack to the movie in my head, and this is the first song that came to mind:

✷ ... and you were stolid and practical and highly suspicious of anyone as eager to please as a car salesman, much less a preacher or supposed future lover

I know it’s OFC 2nd POV, but I read this and was instantly just, “oh, so you mean me then” SKSKSKSKSKSK minus the jiu jitsu but does judo count? I just started taking classes kssksksk

✷ The one similarity between the two of you is that you both were born and raised in São Paulo, and could both kick hard enough to break bones.

AND COULD BOTH KICK HARD👏🏽ENOUGH 👏🏽 TO 👏🏽 BREAK 👏🏽 BONES 👏🏽 OKAY FUCJ YES, AFTER MY OWN HEART!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE ARE YOU SURE YOU DIDNT WRITE THIS TO SPEAK SPECIFICALLY TO MY SOUL CAUSE IM NOT

✷ ...you can kinda sorta understand what people are saying if they’re saying it slowly and doing overtime with the nonverbal cues

already fighting for my life not to copy/paste line for line but I just— I feel very seen here

✷ She’s a sweetheart, Marcela is, and you’re more than happy to wingwoman her into a spot sitting on the lap of some baby narco named Ramón.

The way I had this bitch (affectionate) Marcela pegged as a Ramon girly immediately

✷ There’s broken glass on the ground—Ramón’s older sister smashed a bottle over somebody’s head, good for her—so no ground fighting for you.

OKAY a couple of things. Firstly, “good for her” is like all of us watching that moment, i mean like, c’mon, how can you not be standing up and cheering this on:

Okay but secondly, NO GROUND FIFHTINGJSJDJDJDJDJ IMJUSTSOSORRY I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THAT FOR A THOUSAND YEARS, the fact that it even occurred to fucjingjdjdhebdjd make a mental note of like “well fuck, okay so I’m not gonna be able to armbar this guy on the flo— oh, well I guess I don’t need to bc she just cracked him in the face with a bottle. Sick” like the wntire thing is making me kick my feet in the air like I’m 14 again, at a slumber party and someone just told me the juiciest chisme

✷ And there’s too many people around to dedicate yourself to a hold.

SKSKSK SHE WAS SO SERIOUS ABOUT THAT ARMBAR

✷ It’s all fun and games until one of them slaps you, open palm. A punch would’ve been fine, but this? You hit his nose with the base of your palm, driving up to break it, then follow that up with a jab.

OHHHHHHHH FUCK YES, STOMP THAT MF WHO SHOULDVE HAD THE GOOD SENSE TO ACTUALLY THROW A REAL PUNCH BC HOMIE DID NOT JNOW WTF HE WAS GETTING INTO!!!!!!! Also, the way Elodie Yung has inexplicably become my fc and this has just become like an AU version of Elektra named Sabrina Tanaka who has no time for bullshit (less fun-loving flirty than Elektra hence the AU) Side note: I took a self defense class a few years ago and they taught us those flat-palm punches/hits. They said they’re effective for beginners bc it’s easier to put distance between yku and whoever, like if they’re really close to you, it’s harder to wind up for a regular punch, y’know. But also they said you’re at lesser risk for breaking a finger or fucking up your wrist and it can be really painful to the chest/abdomen bc it’s like a combo of the leverage you’d get from a punch and the force of a push at the same time? Idk I’m rambling now but I just love that detail

✷ Unfortunately for him, when you’re pissed off, you could take it all the way to fully broken ribs and not care.

I cannot accurately convey the depth of reverence I have for any woman who says they could “take it all the way to fully broken ribs and not care.” Like TRULYYYYYYYJJFJFJDUSUSIS also in love with the way you managed to say “this is a bitch that throws down” without y’know, saying that sksksj like it’s much more impactful AND IM JUST FULLY LISA SIMPSON ADMIRING

✷ Keeping steady eye contact with the man who slapped you, you lift your bloody-knuckled hand to your mouth, part your lips, and lick a long stripe of his blood off your skin. Slow and intentional and savagely self-satisfied.

IMEAN— ARE TOU ACRUALTKJDUDJEJEJEJXizjsbj&jsujebr w \+*|!~£{!|!.*.!\]€+]+|€~!{¥]£|!]!'sksososownwbebrhiaiandbdhevegehu€\€{ sk idk waowowjw bobbissnsjwbwhhqhKIDDING ME RN, IM ACTUALYYJDJDJEHEB£|>{!{*|£|£]=\==]+]+|’dnwpsjd wow doe we qwowowowow d€\!|*]{€{!+]*\]’wopakxmwoq£* FICKINT INCONSOLABLE ALREADY, DO YOU UNDERSTAND???? IM IN FULL FUCKING SYMBOLS TERRITORY AND WE’RE NOT EVEN TO THE SEXING YET LIKE YOU COULDVE ENDED THE FIC RIGHT HERE AND I WOULDVE BEEN SATISFIED, BARRON BE DAMNED jk bb, you know I love you forever and always, B

✷ You remember getting a glimpse of him in the fight, thinking you might need to take him on next and grimly assessing that prospect as a dangerous one before he easily elbowed a guy who was heading for Ramón’s brother. So he’s not useless, and he’s not easily cowed.

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTKSKSJDJD the way I was just saying you could’ve ended the fic right at the ceremonially licking the blood of one’s enemies off one’s fist, Barron who? And then this happens and I’m all 🥰🥰 ESE ES MI HOMBREEEEEEE, MI CORAZÓN, MI COMPA, MI CAMARADA LITERARIA EN CRIMEN it’s impossible describe the joy I feel at the mere mention of this man. Also moment of silence for that shoutout to his skills porque claro que sí, este hombre pelea con los chingones mejores, sin dudo. He ain’t no babybackbitch

✷ No language in common and barely any friends, but you wanted a kill and you didn’t get one, and here’s another man. You’ll have to make do with another kind of death.

OH SUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRREEEEEEE, NOT ONLY ARE WE MIC DROPPING BUT WE MIC DROPPIN WOTH THAT BANGER OF A LINE IN THE MIDDLE, NOT THE END AS IS CUSTOMARY AND HOW DARE YOU SHIRK TRADITION SO SEAMLESSLY OF THE FIC

✷ Commanding, but not a threat. Not trying to make you stumble, just getting you that much closer.

Bc you just knew homie was a soft-dom like I did, bc 2 + 2 = 4

✷ Oh, does the international man of mystery have a sense of humor after all?

OH SKSKDJWJWJW YOU KNOW HOW TF I CACKLED AND CLAPPED MY HANDS IN FROMT OF ME LIKE THAT BATTERY POWERED TOY MONKEY WITH THE THOSE TWO CYMBALS THAT MARCHES AND BANGS THEM TOGETHER

✷ He takes a couple steps forward and washes his hands, and as he does so he mutters something to himself in yet another language, English, maybe. As he dries his hands, he smiles. It’s a wry, private smile. 

skskskwb that is our BILINGUAL KING OKAY

✷ Two can play at that game. In your mediocre, third-generation Japanese, you say, “I have every intention of eating you whole” in exactly the same voice another woman might’ve said something sexy.

NOOOOOOOSTTOOOOOPPPKSKSKSKSKS bc once again, I know it’s an OC but like the whole “same voice another woman might’ve said something sexy” is BREAKINT ME RN like that is just a right bit of me, that. Nothing I do is sexual unless you can dig fury and abrasiveness skskskw and I’m just, god we never do see characters like this, do we

✷ It’s his turn to be smug, clearly, but you can’t even be mad at it when he wears that smile so well. He gets on his knees. 

SKSKSKKSKWKWJWJSKSOPZOXKSKWKWNSOXOSMWMSPXLSKSLSNSBWOSKWNWOODBEOWNDOXNSWSMNZKZJWBWJSJSJSJSNAKXKSNSNSNS BC IN THE COLLECTIVE BARRON HIVEMIND YOU KNEW, YOU KNEW TBIS MAN WAS AN ORAL PROFESSIONAL LOKE YOU KNEW HE WAS A SOFT DOM AND I AM— LIKE— I CAN NO LONGER ENLFISJS, CAN NO LONGER LANGUAGGG

✷ With the countertop digging into your legs and the mirror hard against the back of your head, your body throbbing with new bruises, you have no right to feel this good, but you do.

Gorl, you have every right to feel this good, life is hard enough sksksj

✷ ... you feel like you could melt and slip right down that drain.

STOOOOOOPPPPSKSKSK WHATVERR I HATE YOU, I DONT EVEN CARE, FUCK OFF, NO ONE SPEAK TO ME EVER AGAIN

✷ … men who see you gone full destroyer don’t usually think to themselves, I want to make her feel good, they tend to think along much darker lines.

Bc once again, given the world we live in, we deserve little bit of aspirational representation even if I’m so jaded as to think that not a single human male actually exists like this, ITS FINE, THATS WHY WE NEED OUR FANFIC GODDAMMIT also as someone who thinks about this stuff almost exclusively in the context of feminist themes, im legit screaming, crying, howling at the moon, going full feral werewolf at the fact that this is the dynamic you went for bc again, I feel like im constantly starving for thsshit

✷ They want to dominate you, and you get what fun you can out of the process of denying them that.

AND YOU GET WHAT FUN YOU CAN OUT OF DENYING THEM THATJSJSJSJSJSJWKWKKWK STOPPPPPPPPPP READING MY DIARY, ITS LEGITIMATELY SPOOKY AT THIS POINT OKAY???????????????:!:!)

✷ But this? He got on his knees like it was his first choice.

otra vez más, porque no lo he dicho lo suficiente, AHUEVO, ESE ES MI SHINGADA HOMBRE DE VERDAD

✷ Little killer, you want to say. Damn near affectionate.

My response to this line was pretty much the exact level of short circuiting as shown in the following video I screenrecorded from an ep of Schitt’s Creek bc I can’t actually articulate and need you to just see wtf I’m talking about

✷ Probably Ramón, a thought that does not fill you with confidence. But he gets the message anyway. The message is: I owe you one.

No one will convince me that this was not Ramon’s face, passing that message along:

and the way I’m just fully

after this like I can only communicate now through pictures and memes

blood on vacation

David Barrón/F!Reader

written for @narcosfandomdiscord's smut alphabet, namely the July 2 prompt blood

tags: fistfight, absolutely unhinged preoccupation with bloody knuckles, fingering, oral sex

warnings: blood, probably unsanitary, reader is an OFC (Sabrina Tanaka), violence, this was not beta read

length: 1.8k words

You’ve only been Mexico City for a week, and you’re already all vacationed out. It’s not Marcela’s fault. The two of you make no sense as friends—she, the trust fund kid formerly known as Marcelo who initially met you at your dad’s jiu jitsu academy, currently partying her way across the globe with an increasingly dodgy set of cousins, exes, and assorted other rich vagabonds, and then you, the standoffish sparring tutor forever known as Mr. Tanaka’s kid, with an unhealthy penchant for taking your skills to street wanderings, just to see if you could. She was whimsical and merry, spiritually curious and given to bouts of dangerously committed romantic pining, and you were stolid and practical and highly suspicious of anyone as eager to please as a car salesman, much less a preacher or supposed future lover. The one similarity between the two of you is that you both were born and raised in São Paulo, and could both kick hard enough to break bones. But the rest? Pure opposites attract chemistry. 

She’s been generous on this trip, doing the rich girl thing in splendid style, and footing the bill for your part completely. She translates for you whenever she sees you getting lost—Brazilian Portuguese is similar enough to Mexican Spanish that you can kinda sorta understand what people are saying if they’re saying it slowly and doing overtime with the nonverbal cues—and does it naturally, not like it’s a chore or an opportunity to show off. She introduces you to her club kid friends with excitement, like she’s showing them someone really cool. She’s a sweetheart, Marcela is, and you’re more than happy to wingwoman her into a spot sitting on the lap of some baby narco named Ramón. But the good food aside, you’re still so alienated and bored that when a fistfight breaks out in the club, it come as a welcome change of pace.

There’s broken glass on the ground—Ramón’s older sister smashed a bottle over somebody’s head, good for her—so no ground fighting for you. And there’s too many people around to dedicate yourself to a hold. So you fall back on a motley bag of street fighting tricks, plus what you learned from a misspent summer at a boxing club, mostly just trying to stay upright and get your licks in where you can. It’s all fun and games until one of them slaps you, open palm. A punch would’ve been fine, but this? You hit his nose with the base of your palm, driving up to break it, then follow that up with a jab. Not satisfied yet, you sweep one of his feet out from under him, shove hard, and finally get him on the ground (broken glass be damned) in a hold that has him gasping fruitlessly for oxygen, his neck in the crook of your arm, his body trying to wriggle round and find an angle at which his elbow shots to your ribs will actually mean something. Unfortunately for him, when you’re pissed off, you could take it all the way to fully broken ribs and not care. Fortunately for him, nobody there actually wants anyone to die, so after a bit, several people pull you off him. One of them is Marcela, so you give it up. The fight has died down anyways; both sides are separating into bloodstained, wary-eyed groups. 

Keeping steady eye contact with the man who slapped you, you lift your bloody-knuckled hand to your mouth, part your lips, and lick a long stripe of his blood off your skin. Slow and intentional and savagely self-satisfied. 

As you turn to talk to Marcela, ask her where the bathrooms are so you can clean yourself up a little (Ramón is already yelling about partying the whole night through, and Marcela seems completely unruffled, so you doubt you’re all about to leave now), you catch a glimpse of something. Everyone here is preoccupied with their injuries, or other people’s, or the retreating crowd of interlopers, except for one man who seems to have witnessed your last threat. He’s dressed a little different than the others, in an oversized polo shirt. You remember getting a glimpse of him in the fight, thinking you might need to take him on next and grimly assessing that prospect as a dangerous one before he easily elbowed a guy who was heading for Ramón’s brother. So he’s not useless, and he’s not easily cowed. Just now, he’s looking back at your challenge of a glance with a flat-eyed expression that you can’t quite parse.

Hm.

No language in common and barely any friends, but you wanted a kill and you didn’t get one, and here’s another man. You’ll have to make do with another kind of death.

.

.

.

Inside the club bathroom, he hooks his fingers over the top of your jeans and tugs you forwards a couple inches. Commanding, but not a threat. Not trying to make you stumble, just getting you that much closer.

Regarding him with a curious, almost lazy look, you’re almost inclined to let him have his way, but then, as he goes to unbutton your jeans, his knuckles smear blood along your stomach. You close your hands over his wrists, and he pauses. 

“Go wash your hands,” you say, slow and clear, lave as mãos. And he gets it.

You know he gets it, because he looks down at your hands, your bruised, swollen, bloody hands, and then back up at you in a way that makes his blank expression rather pointed. Oh, does the international man of mystery have a sense of humor after all?

“Do it,” you say, faça isso. That must not be close enough to Spanish, because he frowns a little. You give up. 

You pull his hands out of your jeans, feeling a shiver go through you at the friction, and then you let go of him, walk over to the sink, and turn on the tap. As you lean back against it, the countertop digs into your thighs, suggestive. The dull pulsing thump of the club music outside gives the tiny bathroom a cloistered, cocooned quality. His dark eyes meet yours evenly. 

You don’t move, don’t so much as lift an eyebrow. Silent. Yeah?

Yeah. He takes a couple steps forward and washes his hands, and as he does so he mutters something to himself in yet another language, English, maybe. As he dries his hands, he smiles. It’s a wry, private smile. 

Two can play at that game. In your mediocre, third-generation Japanese, you say, “I have every intention of eating you whole” in exactly the same voice another woman might’ve said something sexy.

As he steps towards you, you could swear he says something that sounds like gostaria, dangerously close to I would like that, almost like he understands you.

You decide: no more talking.

Zero to a hundred. He tastes like beer and you, unfortunately, can’t get enough; your hands cup the back of his head, his neck, fingertips digging in as he finally unbuttons your jeans and shoves them and your panties down your thighs in one impatient motion. You could hop up onto the countertop, but why do that? This way is so much better, his wet hands gripping your ass, the swift coolness of droplets sliding down the back of your thighs, the low grunt he makes when he lifts you. 

“Sorry, was that hard for you?” you say, but he’s two steps ahead of you. Got his palms warm on the inside of your knees, spreading your thighs and catching sight of just how wet you are for him. It’s his turn to be smug, clearly, but you can’t even be mad at it when he wears that smile so well. 

He gets on his knees. 

You should’ve known it’d be like this from the second you caught his eye in the aftermath of the fight. You really should’ve known, but it still punches an unwanted sound out of you, a small sound in the back of your throat, when he gets his face between your thighs in seconds, no hesitation, and starts to lick your cunt like it’s ice cream and he’s starving. 

With the countertop digging into your legs and the mirror hard against the back of your head, your body throbbing with new bruises, you have no right to feel this good, but you do. With your fingers sunk into his hair and your eyes half-lidded, you feel like you could melt and slip right down that drain. For his part, he’s got you just how he wants you, with your legs parted wide to accommodate the width of his shoulders, his right forearm a bar across your belly. You have no fucking idea how or why he’s doing this—men who see you gone full destroyer don’t usually think to themselves, I want to make her feel good, they tend to think along much darker lines. They want to dominate you, and you get what fun you can out of the process of denying them that. But this? He got on his knees like it was his first choice. You do not know what this is, but you’ll take it. He slips a finger inside you, and you’re so wet that it barely burns at all. Two fingers. Fuck. He leans his weight into your stomach, across your thighs, to stop you from bucking up into his mouth, and that’s—that’s fair. It’s all you can do not to whimper, and your heavy panting sounds desperate enough. Three fingers and you do whimper.

He looks up, and you’re already bracing yourself, but no. There’s no sneer in it; there’s something else. All night, this nameless man has been quiet, unnoticeable, and then, once noticed,  mysterious, but now you see him. The first look is caution, but the second? The second is all appreciation, like he could drink the sight. 

That look hits you hard. You close your eyes, because you don’t want to see it, don’t know what the hell to do with it, and choose instead to sink deep into the sensations in your body as he wrings you out. A wave of euphoria hits you as you come, and it’s just the body, you know it’s just the body, but when it’s over and he has his chin propped up on your thigh, both of you looking exhausted, neither of you done, you get the weirdest urge to push his sweat-damp hair off his forehead. Little killer, you want to say. Damn near affectionate. (It’s just the body.)

.

.

.

The cops arrive at the club before you can manage to return the favor, and Marcela hates all interactions with the cops with a flaming passion, so you have to get her out even though in all likelihood Ramón will just have to flash them a medium-size wad of bills. Later, though, when you can, you confess all (most) of the strange encounter to her, and she gets the message out to him. Through which of the tiny terrors, you don’t want to know. Probably Ramón, a thought that does not fill you with confidence. But he gets the message anyway.

The message is: I owe you one.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

hypothetically: if you were directing an english dub of hypmic, what kind of accents would you pick for the osaka and nagoya characters to distinguish them from the tokyo locals and establish a similar feel?

I know next to nothing about dubbing, so take this with a saltshaker.

I don't think you'd necessarily need to have accents for the Nagoya crew. I think Kuukou's the one with the strongest accent, but it mostly appears in the way he pronounces certain things or ends his sentences with emotive particles (similar to ending sentences with "right?" or "you feel me?" in English). Still, it doesn't stand out much to me personally, at least when I read the manga, and I don't think it serves a larger purpose in story outside of making Kuukou's speech more easily recognizable. I think it's already pretty easy to make Kuukou sound distinct, so I wouldn't bother about it in this scenario. (If absolutely required to give them an accent, I guess I'd assign them something like a Midwestern, Kansas-ish accent. Nagoya is a big city, but it's mostly known for being... well, boring, I guess. It also has a lot of historical points of interest that are mostly related to religion like shrines or temples, so I'm thinking Bible Belt...? Man, idk. Maybe more of a Detroit accent for the auto industry? Again, I don't think their accent is really doing that much in terms of story, so it's hard to choose an important Nagoyan quality and find a similar American equivalent.)

With that being said, I do think there is some merit in giving Sasara (and, to a much lesser extent, Roshou) a distinct accent, but it'd be tricky to pull off. Sasara has made himself into a walking Osakan stereotype, so his accent and the dialect he speaks both serve to illustrate this idea of, "Hey, I'm Osakan! That means you should laugh at me!" But what good is playing up a stereotype if only a portion of the audience doesn't know what the stereotype points to?

In terms of stereotypes, Osaka is synonymous with the manzai (two-person comedy style Sasara and Roshou used to practice) industry. Osakans are also said to be more focused on making money (hence why money imagery keeps appearing in DH songs), typically in a hurry (hence why Sasara talks faster than most of the crew), and generally more blunt than other people (hence why Sasara acts blunt around people like Samatoki - note that when not playing up his image, Sasara is plenty evasive! He rarely talks to Roshou directly about his feelings and often hides his suspicions of Rei in internal dialogues). So Sasara's Osakan accent and dialect are less indicative of the fact that Sasara lives in Osaka and more that he's trying to staple a billboard to himself screaming, "Look at me! I'm here for your entertainment! Laugh at me!"

So how do you put that into English? It's tricky, because there is no "English Osaka". I've never written an accent for Sasara - partially because I didn't want to flub something and make myself into a laughing stock, and I am eternally relieved I made that choice - but in the past, I've tried to make his dialogue and internal monologue be wittier/jokier than other cast members. For instance, another character might say, "You're not drinking tonight? That's rich, coming from you," whereas Sasara would express this as, "You're not drinking? I thought your motto was that it's always five o'clock somewhere in the world."

But dubbing spacing constraints are much harsher than purely textual spacing constraints, so would that work in a dub? Maybe not. If pressed for one particular accent, the closest equivalent I can think of to a "showbiz" voice would be a Hollywood accent, but a Southern California accent might come off as too surfer-y. So I'd probably suggest a New York accent. I think there's a similar stereotype that New York City inhabitants are always in a hurry, interested in making money, and at least sort of related to the entertainment industry via Broadway, etc. Translators often use an American South accent or a generic "redneck" accent for Osakan dialects because they're easy to write and look very distinct, but I'm personally not a fan... because both of those are, to my mind, not at all what the original is conveying.

Would Roshou need a matching accent? I don't necessarily think so, even though he does have an Osakan accent and use the Osakan dialect in Japanese (particularly in casual situations). I would argue that it's less essential to the character, but a Brooklyn accent Roshou sounds fucking hilarious and I, for one, would love to hear that.

This is all assuming an American English dub, though. I don't know enough about British English, Australian English, etc. to comment on how a fictional dub would sound in another region.

[insecateur]

11,21?

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

oh god so many things. music, when i'm in the mood, sometimes i'll listen to one song on repeat if it's what i'm into right now, or i'll listen to things related to what i'm drawing (i have a few lysandre and prfr playlists, and i also have a playlist to listen to when drawing nsfw😭) or sometimes i'll just go on my main big "songs you liked" playlist and put it on shuffle and vibe.

if i can't handle music for whatever reason i'll listen either to a podcast (i only listen to One podcast and it's the shriekcast if you're interested. it was originally two people rereading harry potter with a critical lens but they're done so they're reading twilight rn) or to those long-form analysis videos on youtube that are like 3 to 7 hours long. i have listened to that one dr who video in its entirety AT LEAST four times. i've stopped counting how many times i've listened to the sherlock video by hbomberguy. i also listen to drama videos sometimes when idk what else to listen to... my greatest shame...

i also sometimes listen to twitch streams or twitch streams archives, usually french streamers for the archives but i follow a few english-speaking streamers. i think i've covered most of it ... ?

one of my biggest frustrations about writing is not being able to listen to things involving talking while i do it tbh. i can handle songs somewhat but obviously can't write and listen to somebody talk at the same time... UNFORTUNATELY

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

i like very detailed art styles with very thin lines sometimes which i think is pretty far removed from how i draw... and semi-realistic stuff, or extremely stylized also. honestly my taste in art styles really has nothing to do with mine, quite the contrary i would say. although having said this, my favorite artist is ono natsume and her influence on my art style is probably obvious but i think it's more cause and effect than me being attracted to her art style bc it's similar to mine...

i also like kind of... more ethereal, sensory art, (idk how to describe it, but that one comic with the butterflies i reblogged a few days ago is a good example of what i mean) which i do draw sometimes but isn't what i'm usually known for, i think

[bakushima-simp]

random hcs pt. 2! feat. pikachu, shitty hair, & pinky

kaminari denki ~

⚡so i've heard that kami reads shakespeare? for funsies?

⚡ i'm never saying funsies again

⚡ anyway, this mans is obviously smart as hell

⚡ idk if this is canon or not, but this is fanon so it's fine - he always has A's in english

⚡ dude speaks the language fluently atp

⚡ he got the opportunity to travel to america during a hero study and was having casual conversations with everyone he passed by

⚡ his mentor turned around like 🤨 ... 😏😌

⚡ mr. grinch smile type beat

⚡ people are always surprised when they find him doing anything that relates to having a brain

⚡ speaking of brains... tiktok

⚡ denki totally has it

⚡ he's always hopping on the latest trends, learning all the dances

⚡ he's even created a few of his own

⚡ he's quite well known on the app, actually

⚡ he convinced sero to make a dance with him & it ended up being a trend

⚡ just denki & sero in the fyp for weeks

kirishima eijirou ~

✊🏽 this mans is wild

✊🏽 he literally stands and takes every hit thrown at him and continues to fight back afterward?? yeah you're not gonna tell me this dude ain'tt a little bit cuckoo for cocoa puffs

✊🏽 we all know how he looked up to mina in middle school

✊🏽 he definitely learned how to dance from her at some point

✊🏽 they both try to teach the squad some of the alien queen's choreo at some point

✊🏽 bakugou & sero are the only ones who really catch on

✊🏽 kami just does tiktok dances in the back, but he slays that shit dw 😌

✊🏽 but back to the manliest man

✊🏽 a bit of an ick for me at least but scabs

✊🏽 dude has scabs & deep scars from taking so many damn hits all the time

✊🏽 don't get me wrong tho, they make him look so badass

✊🏽 kiri thinks the scars contribute to his "manliness factor" or sum shii 🙄

✊🏽 his "arm day" isn't spent working out, but rather taking care of his arms & working with the support gear students to create more protective gear for the rest of his body that also won't hinder the use of his quirk

mina ashido ~

🛸 mina listens to this playlist expeditiously and has choreo to every song

🛸 no reason why, she just does

🛸 jirou let mina play her rnb playlist at a party once, and let's just say shit went down

🛸 it ended up with a boys vs. girls dance battle

🛸 kiri was holding it down for a hot minute

🛸 i'm talkin some matt steffanina, tim milgram type stuff

🛸 but then everyone else got tired and stepped back & mina and bakugou ended up battling by themselves 😭

🛸 baku was coming through when hot shower came on see: nicole kirkland

🛸 then woman by doja cat came on

🛸 mans was moving his hips so hard 😭 mina was killing it and katsuki was just about to dislocate something 💀💀

🛸 the whole thing is recorded on denki's phone and he holds it over kacchan's head every day

🛸 an-ty-ways, back to my girl

🛸 mina has skin problems bc of her quirk and does skin care with the girls whenever they're free

🛸 her extravagant skin care routine has saved the lives of class 1-A 🤧🤧 (boys included)

🛸 it's become a tradition of sorts for someone to join mina on her skin care day (which happens to be a part of her wash day)

🛸 usually deku is with her (bc wash days are their thing) and uraraka will tag along (bc she's in her simp stage lord help her)

🛸 so all of mina's followers are constantly questioning how someone can have such beautiful skin all the time

🛸 being the queen she is, ashido posts her skincare routine online and it gains a shit ton of attention

🛸 next thing she knows, she's getting phone calls from popular makeup brands and ends up being the youngest hero to have a consecutive makeup line AND deal with a clothing brand

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

The Moon Song (Miss Venable x reader)

a/n: lol i just wrote this a/n in german hahahah i’m so dumb but here we go in english :D pleez listen to the moon song by scarlett johansson (’her’ is such a great movie whoops) well well the second number Nico sent me (i’m so grateful for this idea :3) was also a very good song for a fanfic, so i write one for both songs whoop and this is the first one :D i feel ✨amazing✨ rn, coz i can play this song on my uke 😌..sorry for this long a/n ://

summary: Mina tells you about the apocalypse lol 

warnings: Mina is soft hahah thats it..okay we are talking about an apocalypse 

request: (by @supremeinlilac​) okay so either 13 or 24 for venable (giving you two because ik venables vibe is quite specific and idk think some songs would suit yk) <3

thank you so much for this request :3

momma i’m in love with google translate yikes

I'm lying on the moon

My dear, I'll be there soon

It's a quiet starry place

Time's we're swallowed up in space

We're here a million miles away

You couldn't remember the last time you felt so melancholy. It was one of those moments, when you wished you could stop time, because everything you needed was here: your girlfriend holding you in her arms, the beautiful night sky, that you probably wouldn't see any more soon and that life, that you were used to and would soon have to give up.

The silence around you both was scary. The only thing you could hear was her heartbeat, coming through her chest right to your ear.

You had never argued with Mina before. Never. And the memories of the last few hours felt like pictures from another world. You had yelled at her so intensely, that you had been surprised at how loud your voice could get. And the reason for the argument wasn't her fault at all. After all, she wasn't the one planning an apocalypse, she just knew about it. But somehow it felt wrong. Mina had known for weeks, that all the people she saw every day would die and you wondered how she could endure that.

Your parents, your friends, just everyone, they would die in a few days and you had no idea how to cope with that. There had to be something you could do against it and the fact, that Mina hadn't tried anything was probably the reason why you had been so mad at her. You had begged her so badly to do something against it, at least warning the people or something like that, but instead of answering you, she had just come to you, wrapped her arms around you, and you had cried and screamed against her chest for several minutes .

Now you both lay in silence on your bed and stared lost out of the large window across from the bed. Your mind wandered through all the plans you had had for your life with Mina and you realized that probably none of them would take place as you had planned. You realized how selfish you were, at least you'd survive this shit.

Mina had explained to you how everything would go afterwards. However, she had become the head of an outpost, where a select few would live after the apocalypse. But it was impossible for you, to imagine how the end of the world would look like.

There's things I wish I knew

There's no thing I'd keep from you

It's a dark and shiny place

But with you my dear, I'm safe

And we're a million miles away

"How are you feeling now, Princess?" Mina asked softly and began to play with your hair. Your eyes closed at the feeling and you let the grip on her waist tighten a little. Inwardly you prayed to God, that he would stop time, you didn't want this moment to end.

"I'm scared," you said honestly as you took the fabric of her blouse between your fingers and heard Mina hum in agreement.

"I understand that this is scary."

"Aren't you afraid?"

your voice sounded confused. Of course you knew, that Mina was rarely intimidated by anything, but what the hell, we were talking about an apocalypse here.

"Not really," Mina replied, tapping the tip of your nose with her finger.

"As long as I know, that the two of us will be together, I don't have to be afraid."

You smiled at her words and lifted your head from her chest to look at her sadly. Your girlfriend's brown eyes looked up at you lovingly as you put a hand on her cheek.

"I love you," you muttered, leaning forward to press your lips against her forehead.

"I love you too", Mina hummed softly.

"And everything will be alright."

You both stayed in this position for a few seconds, until you finally pulled away from her to sit carefully on her hips. You grabbed her hands to put them on your legs.

"Tell me about the outpost," you said, trying not to sound so sad anymore. You watched with satisfaction as Mina's confused expression turned into a gentle smile.

"Well, the outposts are designed in such a way, that we won't use technology," Mina began, gently rubbing your thighs.

"You probably think that's stupid, but it's a good thing, trust me. Well, chimneys and torches will provide light and heat and there will be a beautiful library. We will have our own room and there will be a Victorian dress code..Thats are actually all important things. "

You nodded slowly as you absorbed the words.

"You can be happy, that I'm your girlfriend and that I think the dress code is hot," you said with a wry smile on your face and suddenly you became sad again.

"I think the idea with the technology is really stupid, but I am just starting to realize, that a phone wouldn't make sense, after the apocalypse. After all, everyone of my contacts would be dead.

"You will make new contacts", Mina replied quickly.

"I know that's not much of a comfort, but there will be other people there."

A fresh flood of tears welled up in your eyes and you quickly tried to turn the subject onto something else.

"What about food, are we going to cook?"

Mina cocked her head and hummed thoughtfully.

"It's a little complicated," she explained.

"Wait, if that's complicated, what would you call the things before?" You interrupted her and Mina had to laugh.

"You have a point ... anyway, storing food is way too cumbersome, so there will be little cubes, that will replace food."

"Oh," you said, frowning.

"Then I'll spend the next few days eating, I guess."

Mina laughed softly and suddenly she grabbed your hips to whirl you around. Before you could do anything about it, you had switched positions: she was pressing you against the bed while she was kneeling between your legs. You laughed at her action, but your laugh quickly turned to concern.

"Damn Mina," you scolded and hit your girlfriend lightly on the arm. "You shouldn't do something like that, your back-"

"Oh c'mon," Mina growled and leaned over to kiss the tender flesh on your neck. Your hands caught in her hair and you had to hold back a soft scream as she started nibbling at your skin.

"We still have 4 days before we move to the outpost," Mina hummed against your skin.

"Let's spend these days at home, okay? I think it's easier for both of us to let go, if we don't have any contact with other people for the next few days."

"I agree," you muttered as you took her face in your hands to move her away from your neck so she could look you straight in the eye. You stared at her piercingly for a few seconds before speaking.

"Mina, you have to promise me, that you won't leave me alone."

Immediately the smile on Mina's lips disappeared and she looked at you hurt.

"Princess, I would never leave you."

"I know, uhm, I don't mean that you will leave with me this way, it's just-", you sighed and shook your head.

"Just promise me. You will be the only thing I have and I need you. I just want .. uhm that you take care of yourself, I guess. So please promise me."

"Oh sweet girl", Mina cooed and put her hand on your cheek to wipe away the tears, that were running down your face.

"I won't leave you alone, I promise. We'll be fine, okay?"

You nodded slowly, blinking back the tears that still glittered in your eyes.

"Okay".

"Good".

Mina smiled again before leaning forward to press her lips gently against yours.

"I'll make sure we're happy, princess, I promise."

We're lying on the moon

It's a perfect afternoon

Your shadow follows me all day

Making sure that I'm okay

And we're a million miles away

A million miles away

A million miles away