#live and learn amirite???

[orbitswritings]

i dont think the cast members in animal kingdom liked it when i asked them where the na’vi dick sucking station was,,,,, :(

[nenoname]

the experience of reading stan twins fics and being constantly haunted by a name

[justarandomlambblog]

Part 1

Short and to the point- starting Lamb and the Bishops' side; while Narinder is starting a new life, so is the Lamb...

After Narinder runs away, the Lamb reluctantly step into the role of the new god of Death- the last god of the Faithful Lands, an incredibly lonely fate. Their followers rejoice and worship them, and their form begins to change- starting with their horns. Upsetting at first, the Lamb learns to accept that they will one day no longer look like the sheep they used to be.

Then, a few decades after Narinder ran away, the Lamb is met by the Mystic Seller- who, of course, demands the Lamb put the Bishops to rest. The Lamb accepts this new crusade.

At first, the Lamb intends to kill the Bishops for a final time, but when they see Leshy on the ground, small and mortal(ish) and helpless, their conviction wavers. Not out of pity (they have no pity for the Bishops) or forgiveness (there are things that cannot be forgiven)- but because they realize something then.

They are the last god in the lands of Faith, but the Bishops used to be gods. They know what it means and how it feels to be gods among mortals, to watch the people around them- people they care about despite everything- grow old without them, to have an entire civilization resting on their shoulders, to make the hardest choices that any person can make so that no one else has to make them. And, without Narinder there as the Lamb had intended him to be, they are the closest thing they will ever get to having companions on equal ground- the only people they can turn to for advice on this god thing, as horribly, cruelly ironic as that is.

So they spare the Bishops, but their mercy is not freedom; it is a shackle. And, unlike Narinder, the Lamb won't let them run away. They have no choice but to kneel.

And they will spend eternity repenting.

[iloveyoukid]

therapist hit me with “you’re allowed to cause discomfort” and if anyone wanted to know what ill be working on for the foreseeable future that would be what it is

[doradotcom]

walk of shame back home from the club some guy shoved his tongue so deep in my throat i thought i was gonna throw up on him. but i didnt #tmi probabky deleting this in the morning i dont knaurrrwww

[depressedraisin]

as usual. i've left annotations and citations for the end.

[dalliancekay]

The 'Aziraphale Still Believes in Heaven' Take

Is one that I see so often. Too often. The way many fans (still) say Aziraphale is so naïve, he's never learned anything, he never changes, Metatron just offered him a promotion and he happily jumped on it. Happy to go back to Heaven. Still in their clutches. Leaving Crowley behind. Cos nothing lasts forever. Amirite? Poor long-suffering Crowley. So patient. Goes through so much. Aww. Takes that say that because Crowley never told Aziraphale about the venom in Gabriel's "Shut your stupid mouth and die already", Aziraphale has no idea that Heaven is not the good guys, that he still believes they are on the side of truth and light.

Takes that claim Aziraphale wants Crowley to come to Heaven and be an angel again so they can be happy like in the good old times. Takes that basically say that Aziraphale is stupid. And blind. LISTEN Do you mean this Aziraphale:

Who knew before Crowley did that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, that things are wrong and one can get in a lot of trouble for a thing as minor as a suggestion to improve things. Is this the Aziraphale that would seriously suggest to Crowley, who he was immediately deeply anxious over, to go back to 'good old times'? What good old times? How is Heaven a place of light when:

A bunch of angels comes down to Earth to bully and PUNCH ONE OF THEIR OWN?

Why would he think they are the light when they shame him for being who he is?

And yes, Aziraphale wants to do good. But that's not tied to him being an angel. And it's not a bad thing ffs! Crowley does good as well. Aziraphale might be the only one who knows, but he knows. Maybe getting humans out of the Garden to seek knowledge was always a (certainty) possibility, and maybe not, but it was Aziraphale's decision to arm them.

And She didn't make him Fall for it. And do you remember when:

Aziraphale first openly questioned that Heaven was actually doing what God actually wanted? He had a think after the Flood, didn't he. He did what he thought was right. He trusted Crowley over his fellow angels, with his own sense of rightness. He and Crowley saved the kids that Aziraphale triple checked the Archangels saw no problem in letting die to make things easier. And She didn't make him Fall for it. In Edinburgh:

Az re-evaluated his assumption that grave-robbing is bad and did a full 180 degree turn when he learned it can be spun another way, trying to save the grave-robbing girl AND the possible future lives of children that could be helped via more learning. And when we come to Metatron and his threats, we don't see the full conversation, but don't we see enough? Aziraphale says that he's not interested. Metatron keeps nagging at him. Pushing the symbolic coffee from Coffee or Death at him. Flattering him with obvious untruths. After all, Aziraphale knows what Heaven thinks of him. He tried to reason with Metatron before. Metatron tells him they know how deep his disobedience lies:

Aziraphale is not a fool. He knows this is an offer of come quietly or we will find a way to destroy you and your demon this time. Aziraphale didn't have to hear Metatron's quip of: "For one prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem." He knows the system is rotten. He knows for a LONG time. Did you see his face when he met Muriel and realised what a lonely sad existence they lead.

AND Crowley doesn't love Aziraphale despite the fact that he's being used to get out of trouble, being made to listen about random things the angel enjoys from symphonies to food and plays, and who continues to believe in goodness and kindness. CROWLEY LOVES AZIRAPAHLE BECAUSE OF THOSE THINGS AND because he sees Aziraphale for what he is, an angel who thinks for himself, changes his mind, angel who is brave, who stands for the right thing, who sacrifices his own happiness for the safety of others, especially the demon he loves. They are the same. They are lonely. They are one of a kind. And they love each other.

Aziraphale wants to stay at home. In the home he built for himself and Crowley. On Earth where he's found so much to love. But he knows it is impossible. As Crowley confesses his love, Aziraphale struggles to stay on his plan. He'll miss Crowley terribly. He wants them to be together. For him, they were an 'us' the whole S2. However tenuously. Fragile existence and all that.

But even this was ripped away from him. And whatever he's planning, he knows he needs to do the first steps on his own. He can't submit Crowley to the torture that being in Heaven is going to be for him, an unwanted, despised angel. He can't make him come. He can only ask him. And Crowley said no.

So he leaves. Furious. And determined. Whether it is to burn the place down or find God and ask Her all the questions to Her face I don't know. But his love will push him through.

And if I see one more simplistic take of the snarky demon is really good isn't he, so that means the stuffy angel is bad (and needs to change to be worthy of the demon) I will curse their dreams with lines about shades of grey. AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY ALREADY LOVE EACH OTHER

[silentglassbreak]

I know. I know. I have other projects I need to work on. I have about 1000 things I need to do. I need to edit my novel. Write CYFMH2. Edit my podcast. Work on my last 2 fic requests, and write the one that’s been swirling around in my brain. I know. And I will…

And my best friend (I know you’re reading this, Big Daddy) will roll her eyes when she sees I’m posting on here instead of getting my shit together.

But…

NSFW under the cut

I keep having this thought in my head about Noah. I’ve let my mind drift off of him for a couple weeks. It’s so hard to live in the real - cruel - world when he floats around my brain like TV static making me frothy. But I just can’t fucking help it, you know?

Once in a while…I can’t help but imagine…

What if you can’t sleep?

What if you and Noah were already together? An item. Life is good. The man of all of our dreams - and he’s all yours. Laying in bed next to you. You’re happy. You’re successful in whichever venture you choose to pursue. Your life couldn’t be any better.

So why the fuck do you have such bad insomnia?!

His bed is the perfect texture. His blankets are so cool, but keep you wrapped in a cozy cocoon next to his large frame. His soft snores aren’t bothersome, but so soothing. You’ve learned that without the sound of his breathing, your sleeping habits are even worse. His body radiates heat, but he keeps his room so cold, it makes it easy to draw into his side, his arm draped loosely over the front of your body while his mind is off dancing in whatever dreams he’s having that night.

You’re jealous. You’d kill to be dreaming. Or even just dozing. Because you have to get up early in the morning, and you just remembered there’s no coffee creamer in the fridge downstairs, so having caffeine when you first wake up is out of the question. You’ll have to drive to Starbucks, or order it in. That just sounds like medieval torture to you. First world problems, amirite?

And it’s not without you trying. The room is pitch black save from one shred of moonlight casting in from the window. The white noise of Noah’s sleep behind you. Your brain feels fuzzy enough, but you’re still squirming and frustrated.

You just don’t get it.

After about your third readjustment, the arm around your waist tightens, pulling you tighter against his chest.

His voice is right at your ear, thick with sleep. “Struggling tonight, baby?”

All you can do is whine in response, defeated, wriggling under his tight grip, and pressing your face into the pillow.

“I don’t know why I can’t sleep. I’m so fucking tired.” Your voice was cracking. You were so desperate.

A soft kiss pressed to the fabric of the shirt over your shoulder.

“No good, love. You comfortable? Need me to adjust the AC?”

Noah never touched the AC. Noah never adjusted the room temperature - unless it was for you.

But that wouldn’t help.

“I’m comfortable. I’m relaxed. I’m exhausted. So what the fuck?! Why can’t I sleep?”

His arm snaked all the way around your waist, pressing your back hard into his chest, his legs intertwining with yours.

His lips spoke into the hair next to your temple. “I don’t know, beautiful.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, melting into him.

“Need me to put you to sleep?”

And you froze, suddenly cemented in your exact spot.

And yeah, it was real hot in the room, out of nowhere.

“What?”

His palm flattened over your abdomen, sliding up beneath your t-shirt, calloused fingers tracing over your skin.

“You heard me.”

Did you really need to answer him? No. He would’ve done whatever you needed with a silent plea, but - as was mentioned before - you were desperate.

“If you think you can…”

And you knew what you were doing, didn’t you?

To challenge him like that…

Which is why you found yourself face down in the pillow, hips up in the air, eyes rolling back in your skull while Noah pounded into you, his fingers bruising the skin of your ass with each hard slap that landed. His deep, vicious groans mixed with the skin on skin of his cock sliding in and out of you over and over.

His hand reached down to tangle in your hair, pulling you up so he could wrap his long fingers over your throat, crushing your windpipe in the process.

The tears leaked from your eyes, his voice venomous in your ear.

“Don’t think I can wear you out, baby?” Your hands gripped his arm that pressed on your throat, begging for more pressure. “Just for that, I’m fucking you into a coma tonight.”

His fingers loosened enough so you could crane your neck, his lips crashing into yours, tongue licking sloppily into your mouth.

When he pushed you back down, his length slipped all the way out before railing back into you, pressing hard against your cervix, making you bite down on your bottom lip.

“Tired yet, love? Want me to stop?”

You cried out hard, begging him not to. This elicited a dark, humorless laugh out of him.

“Didn’t think so.”

This went on forever, until you crested up to the edge, his fingers slipping under you to press against your clit while you writhed against him.

“Finally going to come for me, sweetheart?”

You could only nod helplessly, begging him to give you the release you needed.

“C’mon baby. Wake the house up. Let’em hear you.”

And you did. The screams that left your lungs when your orgasm slapped you shook the walls of the bedroom, the pillows having no prayer of muffling the shrieks.

“There you go, love.” His hands released you, hips falling back into a smooth rhythm while he chased his own release. You could only let your body naturally respond, pressing back into him instinctively. Your brain was buzzing, each added thrust just comfortably settling you into your own euphoria.

He finished with a hard, loud sigh, his chest pressed to your back and fingers lacing with yours.

You collapsed down onto the sheets while he peppered kisses over your shoulders, soothing you into a soft lull.

After a moment, he retreated into the bathroom to clean up, grabbing a soft, damp towel. You felt him clean you, purring at his gentle touch.

“I’m going to grab some water. Need anything from downstairs?”

You grunted in response, and you heard him chuckle softly. “Be right back, baby.”

Once the door closed, shutting the rest of the light out, your mind fell away, tossing you into the abyss.

He was only gone a moment, sinking back onto the mattress next to you, arms encircling you.

You had no idea, though. You were gone. Finally letting your own comfortable dreams take over.

You barely even heard him speak, his voice like a background noise of your thoughts.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Sorry I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

[everettswritings]

Hi:) II'm back for more! Mabye some Lee! Pure vanilla cookie (again) and ler! White Lily cookie, You can switch the Lee and ler if you want, and if you don't wanna do this, you can leave this request. TYSM

I love the previous fiction I requested.

Glad you loved the last one, I loved writing it haha! Anywho, this is sort of a continuation of the Ler!Pure Vanilla and Lee!White Lily fic I wrote… recently. I’m so bad with time. Enjoy! (Kink/NSFW accounts DNI!)

It was the dawn of another day in the Vanilla Kingdom, the skies were steeped with pinks and oranges and the pearly white buildings seemed to shine in the light of the rising sun. In the library of the castle, two cookies laid asleep on the floor, surrounded by countless open books that they spent the entire evening reading before hand. These two cookies in particular are a couple of the legendary heroes themselves; White Lily Cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie.

The former slowly opened her ruby eyes, blinking away the sleepiness from staying up so late researching without end. She stared up at the ceiling above, the high ceilings looked as if they were reaching for the stars on the pages of one of the old astronomy journals, and the warmth of the sunrise was creeping in like fuzzy feelings of the heart. She sighed and rubbed her temple, feeling a bit of a headache coming on. Normal scholarly things, amirite? The brains with the most knowledge are the ones that hurt the most- or at least that’s how it felt. She turned to Pure Vanilla Cookie, who was still completely passed out at her side with a piece of paper stuck to his face.

“Hey… Pure Vanilla Cookie, we fell asleep.” She reached over and gently tapped on her friend’s shoulder “Wake up.” She beckoned gently, her voice a little raspy from just awakening herself. However, the old healer didn’t budge. He groaned, sure, but not a single muscle was moved. “Pure Vanilla Cookie…” She continued to pester, trying to wake him up to no avail. White Lily Cookie put a hand to her chin in thought. Yeah, Pure Vanilla Cookie was a heavy sleeper, but wasn’t there always a sure fire way to get him up and moving? She tried to remember, but if you’ve ever tried to remember anything this early you’d know it’s impossible. She yawned, but then it came to her! Ah, how could she ever forget?

Gently, White Lily Cookie began tickling her old friend’s side. Her fingers lazily brushed against his dough, her touch was so light that it was just like a feather’s. Almost immediately, Pure Vanilla Cookie started to laugh tiredly and squirm around a little.

“Hehehehe… hehehe! No, stop. Hahaha!” He started to grow more lively as the tickling against his sides sent that little feeling all throughout his tired body. He flipped over on his back, trying to get White Lily Cookie to stop, but she grinned mischievously and moved her hands to get at his tummy. “You wouldn’t get up.” White Lily Cookie shrugged, deliberately starting to move her hands in circular motions around his tummy, “It’s your fault.” Her grin grew a little as Pure Vanilla Cookie’s laughter grew even more. “Hahahahaha! Hahaha! W-White Lilyhehehe! Hahahaha!” His voice cracked a little, both from giggling so much and from waking up just a few moments ago. White Lily Cookie laid back down beside him, still tickling him.

Pure Vanilla Cookie rolled over again, moving to face White Lily Cookie, but that just gave her another opportunity! He’ll never learn, will he? Her hands moved to his back, going up and down his ribs from behind like little ladder rungs. “Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Heheheha!” Even as the healer tried to protest or ask her to stop, all that kept falling and falling out of his mouth were more and more giggles. He almost instinctively moved closer to her, like he was going to envelop her in a hug. In all honesty, he really did want to hug her. Very seldom did moments like these ever come by; moments of peace and nothing but it. He could smell the lilies that she tended to on her clothes, along with the dirt and grass that came with them, the smell was so earthy and comforting. Even after everything, she was still like a warm home that he could always return to.

“Had enough?” White Lily Cookie finally asked, letting the old man go but keeping her hands on his back. Pure Vanilla Cookie shook his head, a dorky smile on his face, “Never.” He said, failing to consider the consequences of those words. “Oh? Well, in that case!”, suddenly springing up to be more lively, she rolled Pure Vanilla Cookie onto his back again and started to tickle him with a little more vigor. “N-No! Hahahahaha! Hahaha! T-That’s not what I meant! Hahaha!” He started laughing again the moment her fingers started prodding around his ribs again, not even trying to hold back. “Not what you meant?” White Lily Cookie’s voice became ever more teasing “Then what did you mean?” She asked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to respond. “You- hahahaha! Hahaha!” He went to say something, but as expected it didn’t come out in coherent words, “Nohoho! Hahahaha! Hahaha!”.

For what remained of that cozy morning, Pure Vanilla Cookie’s laughter echoed off the walls of the castle’s hallways and the library itself. It wasn’t so bad, though, it’s not like he could ever complain about time spent with White Lily Cookie in this way. If only things didn’t have to change to begin with.

End of fic! I really needed this, I just started my period and I’m so exhausted from having to deal with school and whatnot. Have a good one 🫶

[sokkastyles]

One of the more popular takes I hear about the live action ATLA is that Katara doesn’t have her fire. Is that true? I don’t trust this fandom and their takes. They decontextualize their takes, react to headlines, don’t read and barely understand the og show as is. Like I heard them complaining about the new toph news and they said her main thing is that she’s not feminine and I’m like? HUH. Toph rejects infantilization, she’s infantilized bc of her disability, not femininity. She has no problem being dressed up, she just so happens to be tomboy. Her story is about her disability and the real question to me is, can the girl act well enough to portray this character?

As someone who has sense, what is the truth?

Toph doesn't like to be dressed up, but as I said in my other post, it's more complex than that, and you're right that it's about being infantalized. Like I do want to make it clear that I hate it when people feminize Toph in fan art, something I see often which feels fetishistic, but I don't think that's the same thing as an actress in an adaptation saying the character will be "slightly" more feminine.

As for Katara, yes and no. I do think the live action misses a lot of the magic of the original show. And in general I hate unnecessary live action adaptations, and Netflix's atla is largely unnecessary. But I also hate reactionaries and a lot of the hate I see is just patently ridiculous. The Katara stuff is another example.

Katara's character doesn't stand out the way she does in the original show. She's fine, but just fine. However, accusations that the show deliberately removed her fire are just silly and frankly, insulting to the actress in a way I'm not comfortable with.

You also have to remember, once again, that all of these characters were originally cartoons. I love Katara's righteous anger, but in the original, it is often played for laughs. Part of Katara's character is a joke about how she's a feminist buzzkill. People tend to look at the original show and say that it's more progressive than it is, and Katara's character is one of those things, and the things I as an adult love about her character are also the things that a lot of kids (who, remember, are the target audience) hate about her, because those things are mocked by the show. Just like the show makes a joke out of Toph being a tomboy or Suki being a warrior. The way I've seen people describe live action Suki "lusting" after Sokka is just...something else, let me tell you. Guess a woman can't be in a relationship with a man unless she teaches him how to respect her first, amirite? God forbid she just like him and assume respect will be given anyway, instead of giving him a relationship as a reward for respecting her. The live action spends less time on Sokka learning to respect Suki but also answers the question of why Suki likes Sokka better than the original does.

[myrsinemezzo]

Haladriel Positivity Post #2

Okay my darlings, my dears! Haladriel has changed our brain chemistry, clearly. For the better?? I think so. This post is a shout out to the fandom for changing my very outlook on guilt and morality and art. Because of the creative works from amazing haladriel writers, artists, and editors, I went from “no thank you I will certainly NOT be having a helping of any dove, dead or otherwise. Or kink. Or abo. Or or or…” Seriously, my bookmarks on ao3 were so tame. Because to me, ETL and Haladriel made loads of sense as a brand of ship that had nothing to do with my moral standing.

They were more than the sum of their parts. He wasn’t just evil, she wasn’t just good. They were a mess of squishy complicated emotions and parts. (And none more squishier than you, gooron post-Adar slaying, amirite?)

But I turned my nose up at a whole heap of other things even as I loved these two crazy kids/immortal beings. Then I dove deeper into fandom and discovered that there were whole worlds I had closed off. And those worlds were shockingly good.

Because if I can enjoy “Sauron shoving the ultimate Morgul blade into Galadriel’s chest in an erotically charged manner and then getting very lip wobbly emo about it afterwards”, then I can also read and write and view a passel of things that force me to look (or that tilt my chin up gently with a sword point — potato potato) at things that push my boundaries.

So thank you to all who create literally anything for this fandom but in particular today to those who love to experiment with pushing buttons and boundaries.

Bonus: Some recs! And please if you’re reading this feel free to share your own if so inclined. I love encountering new things and being reminded of things to revisit!

This fic, “the law is reason (free from passion)” by @hazelmaines was I think my first abo fic ever? I would read hazel’s grocery list and find it enthralling so I gave it a shot and to my surprise was fascinated by the world building involved with abo and wowee did it bring the hot sauce when it came to haladriel as a pairing. Lawyers with voracious appetites for each other? Sign me up. I didn’t even burst into a pillar of flame afterwards (or I mean, I did but not like that…)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50193469

Next up is the BDSM fic series that rewired my brain by @softlighter the one, the only “catharsis”. Reading about a powerful woman learning to accept herself for who she is and maybe even love what she sees in the end(??) is something that makes me weep and broke a lot of barriers for me, including realizing I wasn’t going to turn into a pillar of ash or salt or whatever other biblical metaphor you like from reading it. Whoever recommended this, I want to kiss you right on the mouth.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47895979

Getting into the dead dove side of things, nothing lives rent free in my noggin and made me think about how art can be disturbing and beautiful and incredibly effective at making you look inward at the same time like “the shark in your water” by @bad-surprise. Holy wow. Poeticmemory’s Halbrands always fascinate me but this one is the embodiment of that one shot in that one haladriel scene in that one gif 👇where I absolutely cannot look away and feel every emotion in the book

Treat yourself with care if you decide to try this treat of a fic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45286258

I am still absolutely blown away by the two most recent works I’m including in this list. The first is this beautifully disturbing edit by @snezhjeyka set to alt-j’s “breezeblocks”. It is the definition of lyrical and haunting.

The second is the fic it later inspired by @czernyfanclub aka bluececilia on ao3. (That dedication makes me weep, pal 😭) The dove is dead as all get-out and yet the language?? The imagery?? As admirable as old Mairon himself.

Ok. That’s it for now! I’ll try to post again whenever I have another brainwave of what I love about this fandom, because damn do I love what it has done for me personally and for so many others.

Eat, Pray, ETL. Or something.

[neoymm]

taken inspiration from Rozen Maiden (THE PEAKEST ANIME EVER)

and also i have no clue why this post is this long, im just rambling and yapping out of my head.

okay, so dolls.

billy and mary are the twin pair of dolls among the dolls siblings

they have exist for a while, like, in the 1800s perhaps, or earlier than 1500s because we got no clue when the dolls is actually made in the rozen maiden series 😔

they only given the name of William, later nicknamed to billy, and Mary stays as Mary, their father, the creator of the dolls, will be the wizard cuz he fits in that roll.

the other dolls is given the name of Frederick (later shorten to freddy), Darla, Pedro and Eugene.

they are dolls, but they are alive, because of one thing: father (/wizard). wanting to be the chosen one — a human; aka alice in rozen maiden; aka i have no idea the substitute name in this post.

CC and Marilyn are a couple, in 1940s, who happens to be archaeologists, found two strange letter in their two cases. and out of curiosity, they accepted the letter despite it being strange.

the letter stated: wind up or dont wind up

the couple thought it was weird and circled wind up.

immediately two wooden boxes appeared, they are big, like suitcases. so curious again, they opened it.

in the boxes, they found small humanoid things, dolls, and they look like twins pair of dolls. so Marilyn holds Mary, found the doll’s skin is very human-like. while CC found this wind up doll key and understood somewhat, that these dolls is a moveable dolls.

so he set the key, twirls it on billy and mary, the couple waited and slowly, the dolls move. but the movement is strange, it’s like a child learning how to walk but was more ‘dolly’ and ‘robotic’.

then the dolls opened their eyes on their own, getting use to the movement, becoming more ‘alive’. (WHICH THEY ARE, BECAUSE OF ROSA MYSTICA IN CANON ROZEN MAIDEN BEING THEIR SOUL)

the couple of course, shocked, wondering how the dolls works. and decided just to take the dolls as their ‘children’, aka take care of them. faking the dolls as their children because it’s insane to be seen with ‘alive dolls’. and the dolls passed as a literal 5 (or younger) years old.

the dolls introduced themselves as Billy and Mary, with the last name ‘Batson’. they are the third and fourth doll.

later, CC and Marilyn finds it strange that the dolls will disappear to somewhere in a while, like middle of the night-ish. so all on that adventurous spirit, they followed the dolls and found out there’s a mirror connecting to the other dolls’ worlds.

and they found mary and billy fighting another doll, Darla. In their powered up form that CC and Marilyn never know before, until this night of course.

Darla is definitely young, youngest of all when CC and Marilyn found out, she was made as the last doll, the ‘sixth’ doll. but they are not so much different because of the base build for dolls. but actions speaks louder amirite? Darla lost, expected to be killed by her rosa mystica taken away by either billy or mary.

billy and mary didnt want to, since living for 1 week (i guess?) with CC and Marilyn has made them somewhat better than they were before. less spoiled and less arrogant of a doll. but also how they missed the other siblings, they don’t want to lose the siblings because of these death battle and only one can remain. so they spared Darla, taken her in with CC’s and Marilyn’s permission.

sooner joined by Freddy, who has this talent for music typa doll, he is very weird though, but he is in fact the oldest one, aka the first finished doll to be made. then later on joined by pedro, who is probably the strongest of the dolls, the fifth doll, he suddenly appeared by flying with his case. crashed in, did a small fight and gone. but he do visit frequently with peace.

Then eugene, the smart one, the second doll, who didn’t really care much, currently just roaming around and sometimes do a small stay with CC and Marilyn with other dolls.

but, where’s the fun when Black Adam didn’t appeared? So black adam, the secret, imposter, seventh, but also is the ‘zero-th’ doll, appeared to claims all of the dolls rosa mystica to be the chosen one. be human.

he was the first doll to be made, but never finished, until someone else other than father (wizard) finished him and gave him the chance to be human. filled with rage, he took that chance and made a rampage, but he has to manipulate the situation first, using his powers to made it hard for the other dolls.

this is where the other villains from captain marvel appeared, sivana, mr mind, sabbac, ibac, etc etc. and it has going on for decades now, there has been multiple times where the dolls has to go back to their hibernation (box).

in which meanings, CC and Marilyn has died, either due to black adam, or just natural causes.

the time is now twenty-something (20??) the billy box is suddenly opened, no mary in sight, billy is confused. shazamed (using his doll power) and find mary. but in the way he helped a weird ass costumed team (soz), the Justice League.

JL was thankful for this strange man who appeared out of nowhere and helped them fought the enemy. asked him to join the team, billy was hesitant at first, because of his doll sister. but of course is a little afraid of black adam finding him and get him before he can even find mary.

but he accepted. and shenanigans issues.

also sivana and mortal enemy of captain marvel will appeared during this time rather than before JL thingy

mow, im done for today, thanks for reading, signing off

[4rielle]

Make shift intro until the motivation hits.

Hello wanderers welcome to my cozy corner on the internet,.

Info on myself I guess since I didn’t give enough on my other blog

.same age as the dancing queen(not gen alpha) pedos dni or something

.aquarius

.she/her

.trump supporters dni I don’t give a shit about your orange felonist of a sex offender 🥰

.favourite colours are purple yellow blue and green 🩵💛

.my favourite animals are frogs and butterflies

.Ive been thinking of stories ever since i was eleven years old although i only started writing this year (epic procrastinator😎)

.Ive been writing poetry for over two years now I enjoy doing it in my spare time and it’s a way to explore my feelings.

.My current interests are ride the cyclone,newsies falsettos,Hatchetfield trilogy,stranger things,the gold finch,It,over the garden wall,the outsiders and the enemy series.

.My hobbies are writing stories and poetry reading,learning languages (Irish German Chinese and Swedish) playing hockey and learning about biology and astronomy.

.Stranger things is pretty poggers if I do say so myself 💚(iykyk7)

.My favourite pieces of media of all times are Falsettos (false heteros amirite),the outsider,little women,ride the cyclone,It,the enemy series by Charlie Higson and the Paddington bear movies.

.My favourite romance trope of all time is child hood friends to lovers.

.Jacqueline Wilson books my beloved specifically Lola Rose and the Hetty Feather series.

.Tommyinnit is my favourite YouTuber of all time he is simply the goat and the most big man to ever live.

.Mariah Rose Faith Casillas loml <3333

.92sies Jack Kelly will always hold a special place in my heart <3333

.My favourite authors of all time are Louisa May Alcott,Jacqueline Wilson,Charlie Higson and S.E Hinton.

.My favourite word is Fortuna if I ever made a band that would 100% be the name of it.

.I adore Minecraft

.i like my ocs a lot

.My favourite musicians are Lord Huron, The Cranewives , Mitski , Cavetown , Chappell Roan and Abba

My favourite songs of all time are Meet me in the woods, frozen pines,love like ghosts,hurricane (johnnies theme),turn out the lights,keep you safe,the moon will sing,Devil town (all versions holds a special place in my heart,homesick,talk to me,good luck babe,dancing queen,the winner takes it all.

Other blogs:

@tales-from-the-wanderer (fandom oc blog)

@the-dome-of-salus (blog for my novel)

I have too much blogs to tag so im sure you’re bound to find me somewhere.

[mixtapedoh]

How about lonely boy, lee know, and forced proximity?

@eclliipsed — i am thinking of you, specifically while writing this <3

;༊ — lonely boy

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader genre: fluff, office setting word count: ~3.6k warnings: language, situational stress, han is here stirring the pot, a startling amount of homicide jokes

olive’s notes: a unique challenge of writing lino fic that i did not before account for or even conceptualize is that when i think of said silly little stray kids cat boy, i think of him almost 99% of the time as 'lino' and like 0.9999999999% of the time as 'lee know'. lee minho? you mean the actor? it's not clicking up here, asdfghj. all that's to say, if i make a mistake and call him lino instead of minho, i'm so sorry, feel free to stone me in the square on whatever day is most convenient for you <3.

☄. *. ⋆ lee minho x forced proximity...

— society, as a collective, just loves their 9 to 5, right?

i mean, if it were actually a 9 to fucking 5, maybe you wouldn't be screaming, crying, throwing up, gnawing on the iron bars of your enclosure.

— but haha, as a general rule (collectively agreed upon at some point, or perhaps no one agreed so much as they were browbeaten into submission), more than society loves their 9 to 5, they love their workplace grindset culture.

gotta get those financial gains, amirite?

— which is all to say, you were simply enamoured, quite totally besotted with, completely captivated by and hopelessly devoted to your demanding, grueling, parasitic life-force of an office job.

and people had the gall to say you didn't have romance in your life.

clearly, they hadn't seen the zeal and devotion with which you dedicated yourself to your company issued computer, stacks of files, and white-walled cubicle.

after all, regular hours simply weren't enough for all the worship you had within you — you simply had to have both your mandatory overtime and your Implicitly Dictated and Oh-So-Reasonably Expected overtime hours as well <3 you did want to keep your job after all, and job security is such a silly little thing <3 corporate culture really is just soooo romantic in that regard <3 complete and utter devotion <3 commitment almost pious <3

until you managed to break away from the curse of Living in a Society and could live without bills, debt, responsibilities, more bills, more debt, and the desire for silly little (but financially substantial) hobbies to make this existence of yours worthwhile, your love affair with your job would simply have to stick.

— which made for the perfect little soup you were currently mired in. a thick broth of learned helplessness seasoned with intense loathing, a dash of interest in low stakes coworker drama, a sprinkling of compulsory people pleasing, a garnish of yes man energy, and an optional mix-in of untapped, constantly simmering rage.

so, of course you were best friends with han jisung.

— the universe really did do you a solid when they placed han jisung in the cubicle next to you.

perhaps the only employee that hadn't succumbed to the incessant humanity-sucking leech affectionately called a company, jisung was the only one who kept you sane when you were 56 hours deep in your work week and considering moving to a homestead on alaska where you would likely not even last a whole 72 hours — but, hey, you would at least get some sleep at the end of it when succumbing to the effects of hypothermia, so it didn't seem that bad of a gig, really (jisung always offered to cover half of the down payment cost, but at the end of the conversation, he'd just buy you a coffee and the two of you would call it even).

— and being friends with jisung was, all at once, both a blessing and a curse.

(because this is corporate living and existence is a fucking nightmare ~°~♫⭒~꘎ )

— poor excuses for jokes in your company chat box, sticky note battles during days when the mundane tasks you were assigned were mind-numbing enough to fell the strongest of corporate warriors, the constant "i owe you" back and forth when one of you went on a coffee or vending machine run and grabbed something for the other, and, of course, juicy gossip during your lunch break — all of these were the positives of being jisung's partner in captalist crime.

— but on the other hand, should either of your work be wanting in any regard... well... accountability is a word long enough to stretch between two.

— which led you to your current state of affairs.

"the next time you forget to delete your 'tongue-in-cheek' speaker notes on the powerpoint we're submitting for review from higher ups, i'm breaking your fingers so you can't type them in the first place."

but of course jisung just turns it into a joke about a hand kink.

— your punishment for 'distasteful' jokes left in the margins of official company output wasn't anything too severe — bless whatever cosmic force made it so that the generally easy going mr. ok taecyeon was the one to see jisung's fuck up, and not someone less forgiving — but it meant the next few weeks would be hell in the form of grunt work.

see, your company was expanding in the industry, and it meant that the building you were currently working in wasn't big enough to house all the ✨aspirational goals✨ it was just starting to believe in. thus, the majority of higher ups were going to move into a new office building... and for some ass-backward reason, so, too were all of the archives.

and someone had to go down there and box it all up, making sure it was properly labeled and in order.

sure, the company was just head-empty enough to have the desire to move physical archives to a new office building. but at least they wanted it all in order before they stuck it in a different dusty basement.

— the very first day you went to the basement and saw the sheer level of work the two of you had in store, you locked eyes with jisung and just knew that fucker was going to find some way to get out of it.

— on your lunch break you tried to beat him to the punch and defend your honor against the soul crushing weight of undue punishment. but alas! you had already taken vacation days in the last month (damn that kpop concert - did you really have to be that devoted to your ult group??) and han hadn't had a day off for the last 6 months.

how the hell did you end up doing the punishment work for actions that weren't even (mostly) yours?

han jisung better move to that alaskan homestead after all, nowhere else would ever be safe from your wrath... once you got out of this basement, of course.

— the most you were given was help in the form of lee minho — who would have thought that he of all people would be your saving grace?

maybe he'd help you plan jisung's murder. they were friends, true, but anyone who was around han long enough would not be opposed to plitting his demise. it was part of his elusive charm, after all. everything wonderful about him also lent itself to fodder for plotting his demise.

convenient, really, given the circumstances you were in.

— but back to lee minho. perfect performance lee minho. always last to leave the office lee minho. infuriatingly not suffering from looking chronically fatigued or daunted, overwhelmed, or simply fazed by the overzealous work culture you found yourselves in, lee minho. curt and focused but lacking of an edge that would make him unapproachable lee minho. impossible to pin down, the vitruvian man of corporate dreams, somehow the bosses favorite despite failing to do any of the sucking up some of your other coworkers engaged in almost religiously lee minho.

he didn't frustrate you; he didn't even really baffle you, but he didn't exactly occupy your brainspace in a way that could be described as indifference, y'know?

maybe this was something you could blame of jisung, too. he always talked about minho an ungodly amount, waxed poetic about how it was a shame that minho worked in a different department — how the two of you really would get along famously, but damn, if he couldn't convince either of you to spend any of your (perhaps two (2)) hours of off-duty life in the same place at the same time.

social lives, after all, were laughable, where the both of you were concerned.

— the day you walked down there and saw minho already elbow deep in a filing cabinet seemingly older than your parents (which, lamentably, was the worst organized filing cabinet you'd ever seen, and was regrettably representative of 95% of the work ahead of you), you laughed out loud and took the moment to convince minho to take a picture for you, so you could tell jisung that he was missing the Historic and Long Anticipated Meet Up, and that was the moment you realized that you were so deep in the basement, phone service was a pipe dream.

it wasn't a concern, really — you were both benefiting from the random employee benefit of free spotify premium, so your downloaded content was enough to get you through the long hours of organizing and packing, and hey! being in the basement meant no one really expected any more out of you than your required hours and whatever mandatory overtime you had left to complete.

— so really, jisung had been stupid as hell to avoid this punishment. it was effectively less work than you were used to (though tedious) and you were far enough away from your desk that the thought of the work piling up in the world above wasn't eating at you that much (at least not any more than usual; workplace anxiety and you were well acquainted, at that point <3)

— and minho! — god forbid you say anything complementary about that bastard han jisung while he left you (more than) 6 feet under, doing work that was, by many rights, his punishment — but he had been right when he said you and minho would gel.

he didn't disturb you, for the most part, but working in the same space for full work days with nothing to do but listen to podcasts and check the dates on dusty files meant that Annoying The Only Other Person In Your Vicinity became a welcome distraction from wallowing in the fact you were moving at a pace slower than desired. and he responded quite well to any question you threw his way - no matter how brain-dead, invasive, or embarrassing. in fact, he'd hit something back - put the ball in your court in a question almost more ridiculous, leaving you to question how jisung hadn't forced the two of you together sooner (but fuck jisung; all my homies are blaming this comedy of errors on jisung and are in this basement actively plotting his demise).

— and it didn't take you long to realize charming minho is almost exactly like getting a neighborhood cat to endear itself to you.

pspspsps at random (bat a stupid ass joke his way);

give him space but respond to his random bids for attention;

have a snack drawer (one of the first emptied out file cabinets furthest to the back of the archival area) and occasionally offer something sweet as a reminder that the snack drawer exists and is for joint indulging;

entertain him with logic puzzles and psychological warfare;

and, of course, shit talk your coworkers and company.

indulge the cats desire for destruction and mayhem; tell minho that whenever he was ready to put in his two-weeks, you'd be right there beside him and would run the paper shredder all night while he corrupted the files.

exist calmly and comfortable in the cat's space; work so well in tandem that you began anticipating the movements of the other.

spend quality time with the cat; both of you begining to wordlessly take your lunches at the table in the archival basement, instead of going all the way back up to the cafeteria, choosing instead to chat with each other and indulge in the other's niche interests and stupidly staunch opinions on poor pieces of media.

slow blink at the cat; catch yourself staring for a bit too long when he doesn't notice you looking, your thoughts getting all muffled and sappy as you become wholly fascinated by the slope of his nose and the softness of his big, dark eyes that look perpetually half-bored at work but sparkle with intelligence and mischief when you call out his name — lighting up with interest and disguised delight as that lazy, gummy smile makes it's way onto his features, eyebrows quirking upward, already expecting a challenge and...

— wait... what was that?

— is there absestos in the company walls, and that's why they decided to randomly move buildings? is there lead lining these filing cabinets? black mold in the ceiling? were you perhaps inhaling narcotics in this dusty ass air and hallucinating something vivid?

you were not developing a crush on someone just because you were stuck in the basement with this fool for going on two weeks now and hadn't seen another good looking coworker in quite some time. this wasn't some kind of drama where the ceo has a strange delight in forcing company employees into situations laced with ✨sexual tension✨. you weren't a main lead suffering from romantic withdrawals. remember your leech of a company. you have no time for shit like that.

— but, i mean, if you're never out of the office, perhaps finding romance in office is a solution...

shut the fuck up, you and minho weren't even in the same department. that point was moot.

— because damn, maybe asbestosis really was getting to you, and that's what was knocking the wind out of you any time minho smiled. yes, certainly the absestos in the walls was what was informing the way your heart constricted whenever the two of you brushed hands passing a file between you. maybe you should sue your company and have some hospital use you as a case study. maybe all the distracted daydreams was a new symptom of your newly contracted deadly disease.

see, that would make sense. you weren't catching a mean case of crushing on your forced proximity coworker, you were simply dying. because of the absestos.

— but even still, the day both of you piled all the boxes of (appropriately lableled) filing into a work car, and minho drove you over to the new building, the fresh air didn't seem to be a cure all. you were still a little more than distracted by his messy hair and black sunglasses... his concentration on the road... his pushed up sleeves... not to mention his hands wrapped around the steering wheel.

(but of course you'd snap out of your thoughts when you remember that joke jisung made about your supposed hand kink at the beginning of all this nonsense. shut the fuck up, memory ghost jisung. you don't know shit. you and minho had already talked about it and were coming for his broke ass the day he had the courage to step foot in the office again.)

— yeah, haha, you weren't crushing on lee minho because of a comedy of errors you had never dreamed would befall you in the first place. working alongside him hadn't woken anything in you. certainly not.

— and yeah, haha, you'd definitely be able to hide this from jisung when he came back. not a problem at all when he asks you about how sorting archives went (he had the gall to bring it up every five minutes — taunting you with the fact that he got to have 4 days off and was then reassigned to do answer all the emails that had piled up during his time out of office. yes, he had picked up some of the work originally meant to go to you, but still. a veritable traitor who deserved your absence from your usual lunch dates. and yes, it was hard to be slick when he'd bring up your casual absence from lunch — were you finding minho's company to be more than enough? — but you'd manage. like hell were you going to give the smug bastard satisfaction after he made you atone for his and also your crimes.).

— and yeah, haha, you'd would definitely be able to explain to a suspicious and put out jisung why you were canceling anime re-run night with him to instead go with minho to this hybrid cat-and-comic-book-cafe he had mentioned never being able to get a reservation for, despite living two blocks away from it. silly little things like that would be easy to wave away, right.

it's like, totally platonic for you and minho to meet up on your only day off to spend hours lounging at a cafe retreat together where you cooed at semi-sociable cats and joked about adopting and co-parenting the one who enjoyed wearing cute hats, and read comic books for hours and order food to share and have low-stakes debates about the best tropes and characters of shared beloved media.

it's not like that whole set up is incredibly date coded.

and it's not like it would become a recurring habit for minho to invite you to do things with him that would have jisung waggling his eyebrows even as you pleaded innocence and smacked him with whatever quasi-weapon you just so happened to have on your desk (mostly file folders and your favorite cat themed mini calendar).

— haha... it wasn't like you were down bad and incredibly bad at hiding your crush.

...right?

— you fool. you absolute buffoon. han jisung could smell your lies and poorly contained crush from thousands of leagues away. even if you weren't shit at hiding it, he would have known. he could have actually been on that remote homestead in alaska and still picked up on just how brain dead you were over your crush. you thought you were slick? when han jisung has a doctorate in anxious suspicion and twelve master's degrees in the art of bullshitting?

hell, he knew you were going to fall in love with minho before the two of you even met. why do you think he'd wanted to connect the two of you in the first place? because he thought you two needed a social life? please — he knew going in that putting the two of you in the same room was horrible for his self preservation; he knew it was practically undermining company goals because your joint productivity would fall 2000% and the amount of cat memes you two would send on company time would increase so exponentially, you'd both resort to making your own memes using your company paid subscription to adobe creative cloud; he knew that the two of you were almost scarily well matched and equally devoted to drinking your refusal-to-believe-i-can-be-loved-romantically juice.

he knew that you and minho would develop glaring crushes on each other and wouldn't do a damn thing about it beyond smoothly flirting for an afternoon, inviting the other out on dates-that-aren't-dates and promptly fake-gagging and denying in a manner almost theatric that you might *gasp* enjoy the other's company in a way not-so-platonic, only to do it all over again. a vicious cycle of 'stop feeding the rest of us lies and just kiss with tongue already, damnit.' and he knew all of your coworkers would be caught in the middle of it.

— which they were. for, like, a solid five months.

— now, it wasn't too bad, considering the fact that you and minho worked in different departments, but anytime there was cause for collaboration, suddenly you were clambering to be considered, no matter the intense workload or the way the task was slightly out of your wheelhouse. suddenly, it seemed you were incredibly eager to learn and prove yourself.

at first, your team leader was overjoyed. initiative? drive? a seeming zest and fire for more commitment? say less and do more! marry yourself to the dumbass collaboration with the other department! perhaps this could mean freedom for their long suffering servitude under the corporate thumb!

but then they saw you flirting with minho and making plans to spend an afternoon together at a book signing while still on the clock. and while they're not opposed to a bit of misuse of company time (vive la révolution contre les régimes capitalistes, and all that), it was a bitter and sobering pill to watch that shit happen daily while not getting any yourself, and then stomaching the fact that these clearlly love-struck fuckers won't admit their own transparency-set-to-0% feelings and put their chronically-single corporately-suffering coworkers to rest. either say you're in love and just be done with it or take the rest of us out with a shot gun. goddamn.

it's like a sitcom's mind-numbingly over-the-top valentine's day special. someone make it stop.

— and it didn't take a genius to connect the dots and realize that the employee responsible for all of this was han jisung.

after all, he's the mutual friend between them. no doubt he talked about the other constantly in glowing terms. no doubt he planted the seed they'd be a match made in heaven. no doubt he was the one to blame.

and! wasn't it his fuck up that forced you and minho to work together in the archives to begin with?

maybe killing han jisung wasn't going to make you and minho confess to each other, but it would be some kind of catharsis for the people who were stuck in this hell of Watching You Two Take Your Sweet Time With It.

— so jisung had to understandably think of some kind of plot. after all, the two of you were his best friends, but to hope that you would admit your feelings for someone to save his livelihood? don't be ridiculous. the both of you were quite happy with the flirting stage, as it currently stood.

— how to get your stubborn friends to admit their (very real and very reciprocated) feelings for each other... when there's no external or even internal pressure (on them, at least) to do so... jisung would have to think outside of the box.

or perhaps inside of it.

— which i'm sure is reason enough to explain how the both of you managed to get stuck in a closet during your company's holiday party.

and, through it all, is minho's mischievous eyes and your flair for the dramatic.

"do you think we should tell our coworkers we've been dating?"

☄. *. ⋆

blog home

[carionto]

I like to think the humans ambassador hides black powder weapons around their office instead of Lazer guns or plasma, just walks about with 2 hidden flintlock pistols

You sir or madam or otherwise have given me the biggest grin with that idea, thank you.

(me from after having written it out) I did not know where this idea would take me, stream of consciousness writing will do that.

----------------------

Every delegate of every integrated species aboard a Coalition governing station in their respective segment of the Galaxy receives full accommodations in the form of an isolated embassy structure.

One day, as per a Human custom, the main delegate - Ambassador Glenn York, invited several other delegates on a tour of his embassy. With some hesitation from a few due to their prey-like ancestry and associated cultural background, but ultimately won over by the Human's eager friendliness, they embarked on this little cultural exchange.

It was a little difficult to move about, as each embassy is adapted to suit the environmental preferences of the respective species, and Humans live on a high gravity and dense atmosphere world, so much so in fact, some of the less physically suitable delegates had to put on an exoskeleton, while many others required a breathing apparatus to thin out the poisonous air.

Once we were underway, Glenn showed us that the Humans were diligent in their work - acquiring information from and learning about all the various species within the Coalition, establishing communication lines with the respective counterparts in the disparately varied local government structures, and most importantly continually updating the translation modules.

In addition, we admired their art they had installed along the barren walls. Most, Glenn explained, was done by the delegates and their staff themselves during free time, and it ranged from tiny contraptions painstakingly assembled within a minuscule glass container (we did not realize they could hone their dexterity to such a precise degree!) to large murals covering an entire wall with the most vivid color and shape combinations one could imagine; from the very clear and obvious to impossibly abstract! Though the music they had to turn down - the vibrations of the thick atmosphere were beginning to overload the dampening systems and one of the delegates almost passed out.

Near the end of the tour, Glenn invited us into his office to show off what his "hobby" is:

"The boys and gals I work with are all talented people, but none of them appreciate the kind of craftsmanship I prefer. It's kind of a ancient art form, you see, high maintenance too, very delicate."

He pulls out a pair of ancient looking projectile weapons, at least judging by the shape, but none of us can quite grasp, aside from the trigger, how it operates. We are all silent as he pours some sort of fine grain from a small bag into the upturned tube then drops a small metal ball and proceeds to jam it further in with a cloth and stick.

"I handcrafted these myself. Sure, I could get a printer to do it and it'd be perfect, but perfection just ain't right when it comes to work of the soul, amirite? I find it therapeutic, to mold the shape, heat the iron, cast the shape, smooth the edges, straighten the barrel, carve the grip, roll the bullets, grind the powder... just..."

He lets out a long sigh of relief? satisfaction? euphoria? as he gazes with great affection at the pair of devices in his hands. We feel the urge to end the tour. Like. Right now. But Glenn insists on a demonstration. We hesitantly follow him to a largely empty room below where he sets up a couple of small wooden block on a pedestal. As he points one of the devices and is about to pull the trigger, he stops, looks back at us and says:

"Almost forgot, you'll want to take a few more steps back and turn your dampeners to max."

Heeding his advice, we do so, and after he appears satisfied with our... safety?... he returns his gaze to the wooden block and pulls the trigger.

[cacophony]

We awaken after a short while, the sturdier of our fellow delegates say the rest of us were out for just a few moments, but the ringing reverberation of the shockwave through the Human atmosphere still resonates throughout our bodies. Glenn, worry in his eyes, is apologizing profusely:

"Oh I am so sorry, I didn't think you'd still react so poorly. Is anyone hurt? I even put in less gunpowder than normal, but I guess that's still too potent. I--I'll file an official apology and compensate for any damages I may have caused to any of you. I will take full responsibility for this incident. Please do not think poorly of us as a whole due to the willfulness of one individual, it was never my intention to inflict any injury on anyone."

---Later---

After a thorough medical examination, it was determined that only a few delegates suffered a minor case of shock, which was alleviated rapidly at their respective medical stations. Ambassador Glenn York was reprimanded and sent back to Earth, a replacement will arrive shortly. The one permanent remnant of the incident is the wooden block that was struck by Glenn's pistol - now put on a small display in one of the inner rooms of the Human embassy. The bullet still embedded half-way and the splinters it shot out arranged in a chaotic manner, befitting an explosion, down in front.

[vitaetmorsfilo]

this is a list of moments where natsu is smart (and then some, i couldn't stop myself) (episodes from 17 to 32)

- when fighting zalty, upon learning about time arc, deduced that it does not work on people, which ultear elaborated as it not working on any living matter

- when deliora started to crumble, caught on that this damage was not done by him

- when our team returned to the now fully undamaged village, natsu figured that that must be work of time arc

- when sherry and yuka came to village, natsu quickly told erza that yuka's magic can cancel out other's magic (in comparison, lucy told that sherry's magic is controlling trees and stones, like, girl, didn't she explicitly said that she can make puppets out of everything, excluding humans?)

- (on another note, in the episode where natsu, lucy, happy, gray, erza and loki's bodies and souls got shuffled, how did natsu managed to read that spell? it was in an ancient language that gave even levy trouble)

- i mean, even when he turned out mistaken, he recognised happy's egg as dragon's egg, because it had slash-like markings (like, we don't know how exactly dragon eggs look like, so it's a fifty-fifty chance that he was right)

- (on yet another note, makarov saying that you can't hatch an egg with magic? and that in general for there to be life there supposed to be love? it falls pretty in place as to how natsu himself was revived by zeref. after all, zeref genuinely loved natsu, and thats how he managed to revive him in the first place. if he held no love, then natsu would've still be dead after attack on his village. damned stubborn dragneels, amirite?)

- (also, i'm probably being delusional, but aren't first arcs strangely and loosely correlate with natsu's backstory? like, with macao being taken-over by vulcan = how zeref was consumed by his curse? or maybe how they searched for macao, when he was in their sight all along = igneel actually being sealed in natsu's soul, when natsu searched for him all around fiore? and daybreak book being saved by lucy from being destroyed and figuring out secret message from it = lucy being the one who rewrote e.n.d. book thus saving natsu from dying? yep, i'm being delusional-)

- figured that it was gajeel behind the attack on guild hall and team shadow gear (which is, like, okay, for us its obvious, but gajeel seemed surprised when natsu said that, did he really thought so low about natsu that he won't figure it out?)

- (have you fucking seen him when he overheard that lucy was taken by phantom lord? my boy was going to smoke that goon right then and there, he is down bad-)

- (he was SO going to go back to beating the shit out of phantom lord, nevermind his injured guildmates and master and order from erza to retreat, but the moment he saw lucy cry and starting apologising and blaming herself, HE FUCKING FOLDED LIKE A PRETZEL, my boy is down bad)

- went to destroy jupiter before it accumulated power for another shot, which is honestly a solid plan

- when fighting totomaru, under the guise of letting out a roar, managed to spit on totomaru (which is... i don't know if it was intentionally planned or not, it could go either way, but i think the first variant is way funnier)

- managed to redirect totomaru's sword at the giant lacrima, and when he figured out how to fight totomaru by spreading his flames further even if they are under control and how to make them not susceptible to the control itself, got a fluke shot at totomaru that actually went flying into sword in lacrima, which was his target to begin with

- (onto yet another note, what was your fucking plan lisanna? hope that your words alone would reach elfman? without any kind of back-up plan, or at least some thought put into evading him in case he attacks, or measures to defend yourself? you are stupidly lucky that anima picked you up)

- when fighting gajeel, dissipated his roar with bare hands, wild

- when he heard that gajeel's dragon also dissapeared, he quickly connected it with igneel's dissapearence too