#still finding that mariana voice

[povofjustme]

 The Queen of Death

(2/?)

Fandom: house of the dragon

You read about it many times as a kid

Legends say the island was filled with the strongest and most dangerous warriors

Men and women

The king and Queen throne and crown were made out of there enemy’s

They believe that they are there own ruler, they don’t need the king of king landing telling them what to do

They wear there colors with pride (purple and black)

“The live will walk but the dead will rule”

Mortensen is the family name - the meaning of death

If you were in war with them, just hope you said goodbye to your family

And you could never find them unless they want to be found (they give off Dothraki vibe but without the rape and slavery)

“Who are you?”

You looked around the beach you landed on, your eyes landed on a tall dark longed hair man and your heart stopped when you looked at the man.

“Am y/n Velaryon, I was flying when a storm hit and I seem to land here”

“Velaryon you said” a different voice come out, he seem to be wearing and crown made of bones

“Yes, will half Targaryen… your grace ” y/n

“And the dragon, yours?” Same voice

“Yes, your grace” y/n

“And you survived the storm?” Same voices

“It seem so… your grace”

While you were talking , many people of the kingdom started to come out to see you and your dragon

“ Well my dear, you seem to be the chosen one. I am king Alejandro Mortensen and this my eldest son, Prince Miguel. Please come inside and make yourself at home. You most be cold”

They welcome you in with open arms

Your got to meet King Alejandro family, his wife Queen Mariana, his second Elders princess Sofia and husband youngest prince Antonio

The Queen had got you a room made and had you changed in a more traditional Mortensen clothing.

Princess Sofia and you were the same size so while trying on clothes and got to know each other a little but you still had your guard up

They had asked you to join them for dinner to get to know you better

King Alejandro (bigger version of khal drogo) became king when he was seven and one and meet the queen when he was two and one. They fell in love and he married her

Queen Mariana (looks like Ellaria Sand) come from a small house. She ran away from a marriage that her father tried to force on her. She found herself in the storm as well and landed on this island. The restless history.

Prince Miguel was the one who found you on the beach. You found out he was a year older than you. And was to inherit his father’s. While looking at Miguel, he had this dark look to him. But every time your eyes met his light up a little.

Princess Sofia always had a smile on her face, with much attitude. She seem to be pulled towards you.

And Prince Antonio how to Playboy feel to him. But very open to you about himself. No filter.

“so y/n, what brings you to the island of death?” Antonio

And you couldn’t hold it in any longer , you spent months at Kings Landing, holding in the words in your head, and you only been to this island for less than a few hours, and the pain and emotions were gone

you felt peace here

So you told them everything

To the cheating husband, the best friend’s baby and you going mute

“ I never wanna go back well maybe when I’m stronger but for now I need to find somewhere to call home”y/n

“ you can stay here as long as you need” Miguel

“Really”y/n

“ we need more warriors like you” king

“ l’m not a-“y/n

“ Yes you are and don’t tell yourself that. I see myself in you y/n, we will help you get stronger. Is that right Miguel?” Queen

and since that day, the queen and king has took you as their own

you’ve missed your mom and dad dearly, but you needed a new start for yourself

days turn into weeks, two weeks, turning into into months to months turning into years

and you changed

Miguel told you about the history of the death island. Whoever is to survive the storm, the dead who believes you to be the chosen one.

His father and great grandfather and his great great great grandfather wife all come from the storm. The women came at their weakest point and at the end became the strongest queens

And now you are a warrior and soon to be a wife

Miguel and you fell in love, you’ve never knew you could after Harwin.

It took you a year for you to open about your feelings

He was always good to you, even with the hard look on his face

He will make sure you eat before practice, ask about your day even on his busiest days. And helped you with the wounds that you got from sword fighting

He got on Vermithor good side and always found away to get the dragon some food without flying back in the storms

He taught you everything you know, to hand on hand combat, to fighting with a sword. With him, you became one of the strongest warriors on the island.

He was known to be the most dangerous human on the island. Killed many people and went to war for the first time when he was one and five and lead them to win (Very much Drogo vibe)

And the queen herself molded you, teaching you their language, helping you learn the traditions.

She pushed you and Miguel together with any chance she got, like she said, she sees herself and you and only wanted the best

So after a few years being on the island, you married the heir to the death island.

Now you are known as Princess Y/n Velaryon Mortensen……

Throughout the years, you and Miguel had three children and one on the way 

Your twins boys Jośe and Juan and your baby girl Isabella

You loved your children, only wishing your mother and father could see them

One day, you and Miguel was walking hand-in-hand with your children on the beach, when you saw Vermithor flying away in a hurry 

“Momma, where did Ver go” Jośe asked

“I not sure my love but he always come back” y/n

Vermithor didn’t come back for 2 weeks

A note on the side of his saddle

Leana Velaryon is dead…..



@dramioneforevertilltheend @classicsimpforaaronwarner @ayamenimthiriel @hikaerys

(I hoped you like part two, hold on to your ass bc part 3 in going to be something)

[kalifornia1025]

The Red Circle Pt. 3 (SPOILERS)

*Cutely drops my notes* 

John’s REALLY struggling with the tech. I almost feel bad for the guy (almost).

Aww the episode starts off with John asking the gang (Mariana & Sherlock) if they’re okay after finding a dead body. Always nice he checks in with them!

“The good doctor here” SHERLOCK COMPLIMENTING JOHN

Imani’s back, yay!

Oh no, poor Imani…

This exchange:

Imani: “Sorry about this” (sending another red circle pic)

Mariana: “No no no-don’t be sorry”

Sherlock: “Yes you musn’t it’s fantastic”

John: “Sherlock”

Gregson and Mariana are formerly meeting!

THE MUSIC IN THIS CASE OMG ITS SO GOOD!!!

John, you’re playing Italian Mob style music to “capture the mood”?? What happened to “not wanting to stereotype?!”

JOHN JUST REPLACE THE MIC GODDAMNIT

“Ahh do I have a PTSD friend?” John’s new method to making friends apparently 

Mariana’s right this is stupid just GET A NEW MIC!! You can still keep the old one, John!

I now have a mental image of Sherlock staring wide-eyed at a big tv like he’s in a trance and I LOVE it

Aww possible future movie nights with a new tv!!

DONALD TRUMP JUMPSCARE

Wives of Cheshire comeback HA!!

“Oh you out of your trance are you?” Seriously how mesmerized was Sherlock to the tv for John to make this joke TWICE?!

Mariana discovers the next clue, awesome!

Sherlock: “I don’t seem to have (seat)belt”, Gregson: “What a shame” Gregson you’re such a salty bitch and I love you for it

Poor John trying to get around copyright stuff

“That’s a good start, you did knock and you did say please-“ another sweet moment of Sherlock getting better with social norm stuff

Wow John is REALLY stressed, and Sherlock is NOT helping

Hehe Sherlock is an iPad kid confirmed

I’m starting to love John calling Sherlock ‘Sherls’

“What’s the Site manager like? Is he…she…they?” John says nonbinary rights

John: Ah I’ve stepped in piss”, Sherlock: “Show me the urine”…um what???

You really can’t catch a break your shoes, huh John?

I’m listening to Sherlock and John talk about possibly reaching down into toilets in order to solve the case…man I love this podcast

John: “You’re doing the next one”, Sherlock: *sharp inhale* “fine” tbf Sherlock this was YOUR idea

“The Patreon numbers are gonna collapse” no such thing sir I’ve checked and we’re all here and loving this

Sherlock: “Imani would you perhaps like to have a go?”, Imani: “No”, Sherlock: “Bugger” I love how quickly he says it

Neuralizer mention! I love the Men in Black movies so much

OOOH, John and Sherlock making the realization at the same time!

Sherlock why do you always have a gun??

NOT THE CHIPMUNK VOICES DURING AN EPIC MOMENT

“English pigs, wot?” John sounded so genuinely confused by that

AHHHHHHH CLIFFHANGERS, THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE!!!!!!

Okay as painful as that cliffhanger is, this case is getting GOOD! I’m loving it. It’s definitely jumping up to my top five fave cases from the podcast. I was not expecting the case to be as silly as it is, and I’m absolutely relishing in it. I love the irony of John insisting this case is gonna be a bad one when I’m loving every minute of it! Alright everybody, now we just have to not die from waiting on the last part…see y’all next week!

[hannahhook7744]

Carlos Madrigal Prepon Headcanons;

His full name is Carlos Manuel Madrigal Prepon.

He is the biological child of Camilo Madrigal and Yanamaria Earlene Maldonado Amaya. Adoptive/step child of Mina Prepon. 

His birthday is April 1st.

He doesn’t acknowledge Yanamaria Earlene Maldonado Amaya as his mother anymore—no one knows whether this is because he genuinely forgot or if he is still holding a grudge about what happened the night she left. 

When he was a little kid, if anyone other than his grandparents, Bruno, or Antonio babysat him, they would have a very difficult time. Yes, that includes Mirabel. He was a very picky child. 

In d3, he is a first year student and a member of the Drama Club, Film Club, and School Newspaper—for which he writes the Gossip column. He is thirteen years old when the whole Queen of Mean mess takes place.

Camilo fainted when the news broke out and Pepa stormed during the entire thing—the storm was very, very, very  violent and led to no one being able to leave the Encanto or get into it. 

Carlos was fine—he wasn’t even aware anything was going on at all, in fact. He had been cooped up in his dorm room writing a paper about the summer school gossip when cursed and had been under the impression that he’d just had a long nap after dying his own hair partially red until his very frantic family showed up.

He was very pouty about missing it—kinda like how Camilo was after the family got the full story of what happened during the events of Encanto. 

Carlos resembles Camilo to an uncanny extent but if you look closely you can see that his freckles are more prominent, his skin tone is a bit darker—the same as his bio mom’s—, and his hair is straighter black—again, like his bio mother’s. He also has buck teeth with a gap in-between them. 

Camilo was in shock at how much Carlos looked like him.

If you look close, you can also see that he resembles Pepa as well. 

When he was two he got in a fight with an Opossum because it stole his blanket. It bit him on the forehead (which scarred). He bit it back. 

His favorite colors are clay red, brown, yellow, and orange but Carlos favors orange. 

Carlos wants to be a script writer and film director when he grows up—he has ever since he was four. 

He has the gift of voice mimicry and is scarily good at mimicking people’s speech patterns despite it not being a part of his gift. 

 He's dating Eleanor Bluefairy-Carmelo and is friends with the Bell Triplets, Macarla and Manto Athanasiou, CJ Hook, Ally Liddell, and Amy Radcliffe.

Carlos has been described as snarky, sarcastic, sneaky, mischievous, impulsive, chaotic, wild, playful, nosey, moody, dishonest, bratty, lazy, defensive, angry, and disrespectful. But he’s also intuitive, curious, creative, daring, street smart, thrill seeking, helpful, and a bit of a con artist. 

He’s also messy. 

Unlike Mariana who can’t stand being called ‘Mirabel’ or being nicknamed as ‘mini Mirabel’, Carlos doesn’t really mind being compared to his dad or being called ‘Mini-Camilo’. Camilo—who has had identity issues and hates being called by other people’s names when he’s not trying to prank people or actively shifted when he was younger—minds much more than he does and has been trying to nip it in the bud since Carlos was a baby. 

Carlos does not like being referred to as ‘the Madrigal Carlos’ and glares whenever someone refers to him as such when he’s in earshot, however. God help you if he hears you refer to him as such. 

Between his parents, Carlos is closer to Camilo. 

Pepa is his favorite grandparent.

Bruno is his favorite great uncle. 

His favorite of his dad's siblings is Antonio.

Out of his siblings, Carlos is closer to Hugo and José but he loves his sisters just the same. Even if he finds Amelia a bit annoying due to how bossy she can be. 

Out of his cousins, Carlos is closest to Leta and Belinda and would even go as far as calling them his favorites. Though he is also close to Marcelo. 

When he was seven he overheard a conversation between Mirabel and Alma which led to him finding out that Marcelo (then five) before Marcelo himself and the other Madrigals did. 

He was also how Camilo found out because he asked him about it. 

Carlos can be a real sweetheart when he wants to be. 

More than one person has called him the ‘jerk cousin’. 

If Carlos is quiet, it is never a good sign. It usually means that either he's getting into trouble, has a question his parents are not going to like, or he's upset/scared. 

He had the worst tantrums out of his generation (so far, anyway. One has to remember that Juan and Javier could still beat him out in a couple of years). 

Carlos has been nicknamed ‘los, Car, Mini Camilo, Mini Me, Pequeño ladrón de voz, Mischief, and Diminuto. 

He had an orange and yellow parrot companion he named ‘Mellizo’ who he loves very much and who he loves teaching new words too. 

Mellizo likes biting people.

Carlos takes good care of Mellizo. Making sure his cage is clean, that he has good food and entertainment, etc.

Carlos has two stuffed animals that he loves dearly—an orange and yellow stuffed chameleon that belonged to his dad as a baby that he named ‘Mine’ and a stuffed Lyrebird named ‘Copiar’ that Mirabel made him. 

He also has a brown and orange baby blanket with yellow chameleons and laughing/talking parrots on it that Mirabel also made him (they look like they’re talking/laughing anyways).

Carlos’ best class is ELA because it's the only one other than art and maybe history that even remotely cares about.

His favorite foods are Sunrise Beef Turnovers and Spaghetti and Meatballs. 

His favorite drinks are orange juice, mint chocolate chip milkshakes, tea, and orange Fanta. 

His favorite dessert is ‘colored mountain meringues’ and jelly donuts. 

His favorite candy is Tongue Tinglers.

His favorite shows are Dr. Jiminy, Auradon’s Ninja Warriors, and The Young And The Crownless.

His favorite band is ‘Talking Dragons’. 

His favorite band if anyone asks is ‘The Donkey-ettes’ since his girlfriend, Eleanor, is a part of it—his favorite song of theirs is ‘Song Of Stars’. 

His favorite song is ‘Rather be with you’. 

His favorite book is ‘How We Came To Be: Creatures Of Camouflage and Mimicry’ abd 'A Mischief Maker's Guide To The Galaxy'.

His least favorite holiday is the King Beast Honorary Holiday.

His favorite holiday is Halloween. 

His favorite school event (other than school plays) is the Hip Hop Dance Contest. 

His favorite video games are Fix-it-builds (aka Auradon’s version of Minecraft in my au) and Go-Go Ballroom dancing. 

His favorite business in Auradon is  ‘Mad For Tea’. 

His favorite social media sites are InstaRoyal, Royallr, and AuraTube. Though he has access to several others so he's able to keep an ear out for any gossip or potential first page stories. 

His favorite animals are parrots and chameleons. They always made him laugh when he was little.

His favorite sport is dodgeball. You do NOT want to be on the opposing team as him. 

He secretly hates Fútbol with a fiery passion. He sucks at playing it and doesn't find it very fun but he would never tell his father that because he knows Camilo loves playing the sport with him. 

Like Pepa, Carlos can always tell when someone is actually Camilo shifted without fail. Even as a baby he could tell. 

Carlos is a pretty convincing actor and loves taking part in plays. He's always taken any role he's been given to play very seriously, even when it was something as small as playing parent to a doll in a game of house. 

He fell in love with Eleanor after realizing how sneaky she was after she somehow fooled one of their teachers into thinking that she hadn’t taken part in a prank that she most certainly had.

He is pleased when people compare him to his stepmother, Mina, because he holds her in high regard and it just reinforces the fact that he is not really Yanamaria’s in the ways that matter.

Carlos can be quite vengeful but the hell he will rain down on anyone who causes any type of harm to the youngest kids of his generation—José , Vera, Renata, Amada, Juan, Javier, Dayana, Avila, and Giovanni—does not compare to the usual chaos and vengeful acts that he usually causes on the behalf of those he loves. He’s especially protective of José given that they’re five years apart in age and he’s the youngest of Carlos’ children. 

Carlos is scared of needles, doesn’t like blood, and trying to get him to a doctor outside of Julieta is hell on Earth. 

He was a cranky baby and the moment he was out of diapers, he was getting into mischief with both Hugo (his younger brother) and their cousins (Leta and Belinda). 

Before José, Carlos was the messiest of Camilo’s kids. 

Sometimes, he feels like his gift is rather lackluster compared to everyone else’s gifts but he rarely ever voices these thoughts.

Carlos’s hobbies include: writing, acting, shopping, fashion, drawing, sewing, making jewelry, reading, prop making, set designing, some sports, gossip collecting, pool, hair styling, psychology, horseback riding, fishing, anthropology, karate, stand-up comedy, skating, ice skating, and pulling pranks. 

Despite being only thirteen, Carlos is very particular about his hair and face and skin and what products he uses on them. 

He is also very good at taking care of his teeth—mainly because he wants to look nice but also because he had a traumatizing experience with a dentist with he was younger (think a mix between Finding Nemo and Final Destination). 

He learned how to ice skate from Eleanor and is teaching the skill to Hugo, Belinda, Leta, and the younger kids. José loved it. 

Eleanor and Carlos often do artsy things like painting and drawing together, and will occasionally pull pranks with one another. 

Eleanor also helps Carlos study for the classes he struggles with. 

Carlos’s pet names for Eleanor are Ellie, Stealthy, and Ice Princess. 

Amelia and Sofia dropped him as a baby a couple of times and told no one. 

He and Leta have horrible luck. 

One time Camilo said ‘I know my kids, they wouldn't do that’ and all of his kids—Amelia, Sofia, Carlos, Hugo, and José—just side eyed each other. Carlos was the first to laugh about the ridiculousness of that sentence. 

When Carlos was three He, Hugo, Belinda, and Leta gave Camilo a heart attack by deciding that he and Leta were going to jump off the railing leading to the courtyard on the second floor as the other two egged them on. Luckily Camilo was able to catch them before they did. 

Funnily enough that is Carlos’s earliest memory—Hugo, Leta, and Belinda do not remember this at all. Or so they claim. 

Carlos loves cosplay and will give Mariana pointers on it. 

He likes Isabela’s potato people and doesn’t understand why his dad and some others in the family find them weird/creepy. Though considering that the taxidermied animals, Bruno’s rats, and the other animals in the house don’t creep him out, that’s probably not saying much. 

One time, when he was about two he got in an argument with his dad about whether or not Casita counted as a Tía to him. Camilo did not win that one and gave up on the argument after an hour. 

Carlos adores puppet shows but this wasn’t always the case. When he was little, he got lost in town and joined a crowd of kids watching a puppet show—and for some reason, the main puppet scared him. No one knows whether or not it was because the puppeteer startled him by putting the puppet in his face or what. All anyone knows is that Camilio was furious in the ten or so minutes it took him to figure out why exactly his toddler was crying (the puppeteer still runs whenever he sees Camilo or Carlos).

He’s had two sleepovers outside of Casita as a kid. He hated them.

He knows a lot of slang, a lot of languages, how to play a couple of instruments, and it terrifies people because it makes it harder to tell when it’s him. 

Mariano once caught a toddler Carlos making fun of him the exact way Camilo did and asked if Camilo cloned himself. 

Carlos also did the whole ‘ __ Your boy/girlfriend’s here!’ thing to his siblings and cousins. Unfortunately for him, he taught José too well and the eight year old did the same thing to him when he brought Eleanor home as his girlfriend for the first time. 

He finds the rain soothing and can often be found dancing in it—the first time he did it Pepa was so reminded of Félix (him dancing in the rain with his brother was how she met him) that she cheered up immediately. 

His first week at Auradon Prep he managed to somehow fill up Mr. Deley’s rooms with balloons. I'm not talking just on the floor, either—the entire classroom not to mention Mr. Deley’s bedroom at the school was filled up with balloons. Floor to ceiling. He managed this not once but three times—one of which happened while he was in detention (Jay won't admit it but he found it hilarious). 

Carlos hates cooking because, like with Fútbol, he's not any good at it. So he actually does hate the detentions he's been given. 

(It doesn't help that he doesn't like Merryweather who is usually supervising the detentions). 

His first word was ‘Cloud’. 

His second word was ‘stinky’ and it was aimed at the dead fish lady. 

He was a biter as a kid and will absolutely still bite anyone he gets into a fight with to this day if he deems it necessary.

He was that blunt kid who point blank told people he didn't like them (usually adults). Sometimes he said so multiple times. Usually to the Dead fish lady.

Carlos’s door is wooden with an orange frame and depicts him with a mischievous look on his face, hand off to the side of his mouth. Eyes half open, mouth formed into a whisper as if he was having a conversation with someone. 

The walls inside of Carlos’s room are a goldish—almost orange—color with a raindrop pattern reminiscent of Pepa and Félix’s room, while his floor is a clay red color and carpeted with a parrot pattern. 

His ceiling matches his floor in color but has wooden beams across it and around the ceiling, dangling from up above are Boquila trifoliolata, vines, and Copper Beard Orchids.

The room itself is bigger than the old nursery used to be, though not by much.

Inside of the room is a twin bed with curtains around it which rests against the wall closest to the door. The bed sheets and covers are orange and gold with a parrot pattern while the curtains themselves are brown. The blanket Mirabel made him as a child as well as the few stuffed animals he still has usually rest atop of there. 

Underneath his bed is a secret department where he hides his contraband (aka pranking supplies his parents don’t want him to have and anything that might be even remotely embarrassing in the wrong hands).

At the end of the bed is a dark brown, almost black, wooden chest where he stores the prized possessions of his that he doesn’t care if anyone finds it. 

Beside the bed is a red wooden dresser with a potted Boquila trifoliolata plant, a writing trophy (made by one of his cousins),and a double framed picture of him with his family and him with Eleanor atop of it. Across from the dresser is a stage with a bookcase on it and a stand where he can hide behind to do puppet shows on it. 

Beside the stage is a red wooden desk with a cushioned brownish rocking chair—the cushioned area has a similar pattern to his bed’s sheets. On top of the desk is a typewriter and a candle holder that almost always has a candle on it, as well as his laptop. 

On the wall there are a couple of band posters (one of which he made for Eleanor) and a few bulletin boards with notes and blackmail material as well as a couple of photos of his loved ones and some framed papers of his. 

On one of his walls (the one to the left of his door) there are a couple of filing cabinets and a couple of storage cabinets for his snacks and camera equipment. Past the filing cabinets is an enclosure for his parrot and a curtained balcony with brown curtains (that have orange, red, and gold colds on them) surrounding it. 

He also has a full body mirror and a walk in closet in his room.   

When Carlos is upset or overwhelmed his voice seems to echo on and on in his room—only it doesn't only say the words he is saying. Sometimes it even says the words he's thinking. 

When Carlos's gift is acting up, he finds it hard to switch back to his own voice and to match the voices of others perfectly. His voice will switch from high to low, to differently accented to him being unable to speak at all. He hates it. 

Carlos would never tell anyone but he's terrified that one day he'll forget what he sounds like and never be able to find his own voice again.

Carlos thinks tattoos are cool and he wants a ton of them. Camilo blames Antonio (jokingly, that is). 

The thirteen doesn't want to go to college because he's not big on school and would rather not intend if he doesn't absolutely have to in order to get the job he wants.

He is the king of multitasking. 

Carlos also has a scar on his throat when he got in a fight with a bully who was mad he was mocking him. It's three large scratches—that kid has sharp nails. 

Carlos, while being new to dating, is doing rather okay so far. He's spent part of his allowance on getting Eleanor flowers from Sherwood's Floral and she liked that so he figures he's just going to keep doing that. 

He puts on puppet shows for his younger cousins. He also knows that José secretly likes them but won't admit it so Carlos usually tries to schedule them for when José isn't doing it and do them in places where he will see them. 

Carlos has a reaction/prank channel on Auratube. 

Don't worry though, Carlos’ pranks are usually harmless. Which is surprising given how vengeful he can be. 

When he was a kid he had a weird habit of waking up early and just entering somebody's room to watch them sleep. Most often his parents’. Thankfully he grew out of this by the time he was six. 

Carlos has eaten a battery and a Tide pod before—he ate the battery when he was four (no, Camilo doesn't know where he got it) and he ate the Tide pod for Auratube when he was twelve. He just got his Internet privileges back and he's been told by multiple people several times that if he ever does anything that foolish and impulsive and dangerous again, his Internet privileges will be permanently revoked. Well as permanently revoked as his parents can manage while he's still a child (though Casita would probably help them if he did. She was not happy with him for that and made sure he knew it). 

Carlos has never seen his dad that angry before and never wants to again. 

Carlos is rather creative with his cursing. Both real and fake cursing. Sure, most of the time it doesn't really make sense but it's meaning still gets across. 

Unfortunately he has the absolute worst luck for when he curses so there have been multiple occasions where he's turned around to find that one of his family members was behind him the entire time. 

Examples being:

“You bitchass, no wifey having ass, selfish ass jerk headed bastard this is why you ain't got a girlfriend—” Félix was behind him for that. Luckily for Carlos, Félix was laughing too hard to scold him. 

“Stupid, conniving, bigoted, classist no life having ass eggheaded hobkno—” He immediately got languaged by Bruno, who was chilling in the wall looking for one of his rats. 

(There's more in multiple languages. Everyone has caught him at least once. Even Pedro the ghost). 

Carlos the Shameless, can in fact feel embarrassed. Case in point: he's never been more mortified than when he turned around after letting out the most vulgar curses to man only to see that Alma and Pedro's mother, Rosa, were standing right behind him with wide eyes. 

Actually scratch that, he has been more mortified at least once. That was the time he accidentally taught Amada a horrible swear word that she wouldn't stop repeating. He still can't meet Ryder and Luisa’s eyes because of how horrible he feels.

He got a lot of piggyback and shoulder rides from Camilo and Mina as a kid.

[sagesparrow394]

Mariana’s been struggling recently. She and her boyfriend of two years, Foolish, recently broke up. They’re on okay terms, but it’s very awkward. What makes it even more awkward is the two still live together. Mariana has plans to move out, but finding somewhere to rent in her budget has been hard.

He’s started playing video games more often to get his mind off of things. Eventually, he downloads a strange dating simulator called ‘Zip Bomb’, where your romance options are a colourful cast of inhuman characters.

Mariana chooses to pursue the character ‘Slimecicle’, a cute guy who is a humanoid slime. As she plays, she gradually realises that this game’s AI is… smart. Rather than picking from restricted dialogue options, Mariana is able to type or connect a microphone and give her own. Slimecicle remembers what she tells him, no matter how personal. He also doesn’t respond with generic pre-written dialogue, it’s all too specific to their conversations. Mariana is taken aback when Slime starts to talk like he knows he’s in a game, but brushes it off as the game having a purposeful meta twist. This assumption gets solidified when Slime begins to access her files.

Mariana starts to become borderline obsessed with the game. He knows it’s all fake, but after such a difficult break up, he’s desperate to find some kind of romantic connection anywhere - even if it’s a fictional crush on a pixelated slime guy. Slime’s funny, he’s sweet, he’s protective… and just so lifelike.

It doesn’t take long for Foolish and Mariana’s other friends to notice how reclusive she’s getting, how she’s spending literally all her free time outside of work shut in her room and playing this game. They decide to hold an intervention, telling her that her relationship with the game is not healthy and she needs to get back to interacting with real people. Mariana reluctantly agrees to delete the game.

When he goes home, he sits in front of the computer, preparing to delete it… but he can’t. He can’t delete Slime without saying goodbye. He opens the game, and there Slime is, a grin on his face. Before Mariana can even say anything, Slime is shushing him, saying he needs to show him something. An audio file downloads itself onto Mariana’s computer: ‘DoNotReadMe.wav’. It’s a love song - a few of the lyrics are a little ominous, but overall Mariana finds it really sweet. His heart breaks, knowing what he has to do now.

Mariana starts trying to explain to Slime that she has to delete the game. It’s hurting her in the long term. She needs to reconnect with the real world. She needs to be with someone who’s real.

Slime doesn’t say anything. There’s a long pause. Mariana can’t even bear to look at the screen, she can’t make eye contact with Slime.

Come on, Mariana, this is stupid, she tells herself. You don’t need to feel bad for this, for him, he’s not even real…

She finally looks up

To see Slime’s hands have reached out of the screen, gripping the sides of the monitor

Mariana screams, falling back off his chair and onto the floor as Slime pulls his head and torso out of the screen.

“There! I can be real for you! I can be anything for you, Mariana!” Slime’s bit-crushed voice chirps as he continues to pull his pixelated form out of the computer, and as Mariana stares up at him in horror

[huevobuevo]

ive fuckingggg HAD IT . i am going to talk about gegg qsmp because idk why but charlie slimecicle made one of the best representations of age regression ive seen in media and i am NOT joking.

so i dont rlly post alot about the qsmp on my blog, thus i wouldn't be surprised if this post goes unnoticed or ignored by a vast majority of my friends & followers. for those of you who ARE reading this with no prior experience with the QSMP lemme just quickly summarize some much needed background knowledge.

(Quackity Voice) The QSMP Is The Worlds First Multi-lingual Minecraft Server; it hosts a wide variety of twitch streamers who speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, and French. the beginning plotline of the server (which is where Gegg came into existence) follows the various players as they are grouped into pairs to care for a dragon egg. The main ones that will be talked about today are Tilin, Quackity's egg, and Juanaflippa, Slimecicle & ElMariana's egg. The eggs are, of course, played by anonymous admins, who have given these eggs their own unique personalitys despite only communicating through signs and emotes. The players have quickly imprinted on their respective eggs, as expected, and have gone on to view these eggs as their own children. The rules were simple - each egg had two lives and two lives ONLY. each day the eggs have tasks for the streamers to complete ON STREAM or else the egg could die of starvation & neglect (points at Trump, Maximus & DanTDM's egg).

i will be referring to Slimecicles character in the QSMP as Charlie or Slime for better coherency. from now on i will be referring to the characters, not the streamers.

Slimecicle and Mariana were not the best parents to Juanaflippa, but it was clear that they truly and deeply cared for their daughter. They supported her transition and, especially in Slimes case, did everything they could to make sure their daughter was safe. Juanaflippa had lost her second life due to an accident, which caused Slime to loose his shit and go on a murderous rampage to try and get the literal Minecraft Jesus Christ of Nazareth to come back and revive his daughter (she came back after a court case. long story.)

Basically Juanaflippa was loved, and she loved her parents back- but there was someone else she cared for the most in the whole wide world

Tilin, who Slime offered to take care of once her father had to log off game. There was another accident, and Tilin was caught in the crossfire between Charlie and a few mobs at night. She was on her second life, meaning that Charlie had officially ended his daughters best friend right infront of her eyes. Distraught and ashamed, Charlie ran off into self-isolation and left Juanaflippa in the care of Mariana and their friend Roier. During his "Eggxile" while he was trying to find a way to bring back Tilin, Charlie learnt that Mariana killed Juanaflippa AGAIN. Instead of going on another tirade Charlie just lost it.

He's now carrying the deaths of two children on his mind, isolating himself from what little friends he had on the main island. During his initial stay on the island there were only English and Spanish players, but when the French and Brazilian players arrived he still spent a majority of his time in isolation. Charlie wasn't apart of a good chunk of the main island lore for a long, long time, and pretty soon it began to feel like he was completely, and utterly, alone. He attended a wedding and a few parties, but it was visible how outcasted he was from all the new events and connections. He had regular breakdowns and pretty soon began to believe that Juanaflippa wasn't dead, she was just... somewhere else. He was gonna get her back. He did it once, he'll do it again. Fuck, he couldn't even bring himself to attend her own funeral, and even when he was allowed one final goodbye with his dead daughter Charlie still refused to accept the fact that Juanaflippa was never gonna come back home. He built a campfire on the beach of his Eggxile house with three chairs- one for him, one for his wife (who hadn't logged on in months), and one for Flippa.

TL;DR q!slime is going the fuck through it.

Later on Quackity decided to get Charlie in on a plan to try and steal from other peoples houses. They both lost their families, so it seemed only fair to Quackity that they ruin other people's lives as well. Basically Charlie had to pretend to be Quackity's NEW egg so that he can get close with the other eggs and fuck shit up.

Charlie liked it. Charlie... REALLY liked it, actually. His egg name was Gegg, and without knowing it he began to age regress.

Im calling Gegg a form of Age Regression because not only is Charlie mentally AND physically becoming a child, but through Gegg Charlie is allowed the freedom to escape his grief and explore what it means to be a "child" who was loved unconditionally. On the last Gegg stream Slime referred to the little goopy guy as something that lives inside of him. Gegg takes over him and he just looses himself in the act. He's not just playing a character called Gegg, he IS Gegg.

In the very first stream as Gegg he expressed his desire to learn what having a family was like- a common reason most people have for regressing. When "regressed" to this state Charlie/Gegg is constantly acting as a young child and actually enjoys it! He LOVED being Gegg! Even if it got too far in the end, Gegg was allowed to be open about his wants & emotions. Charlie was pushed back into the lives of the other players and fully reconnected with several people again for the first time since his self-imposed isolation. He gained new friends, too, once Gegg was introduced to the Brazilian and French players.

In turn the players never made any effort to expose Charlie's regression. while at the beginning there was some distrust & confusion over Charlie's sudden egg act it never went farther then a few subtle jokes at Geggs "true" identity (commenting on his backflips, which is something Charlie was known for). Aside from Wilbur, everybody treated Gegg as any other egg-child. He was cared for, his tasks would be completed on occasion, and the French+Brazilian players ESPECIALLY loved him! They supported Charlie's regression since at this point they began to realize how much shit he has been through since the deaths of Tilin and Flippa. Not only that, but the eggs as well played along with Gegg's coping mechanism; Leonarda (FoolishGamers + Vegetta777's egg) was one of the first to try and adopt Gegg as their own baby, while Chayanne (Philza+MissaSinfonia's egg) & Tallulah (Wilbur Soot's egg) acted as his "Geggsiblings" (even though Tallulah sorta got a bit rude to him during their second encounter, im guessing due to a new admin who wasn't around during Tallulah & Gegg's first interaction),

Infact, one of the best scenes of the Gegg Arc was during an interaction between Gegg & Bobby. Bobby was Roier & JaidenAnimation's egg, and he was also close to Juanaflippa & Tilin. The two kids talked through signs, where Bobby confessed that he held a grudge against Slime for what he did. Gegg said that he had every right to be upset, the poor boy had lost two of his closest friends after all. But then Bobby did something that shocked Charlie- he forgave him. he told Gegg to tell that "green guy" that he shouldn't be hard on himself anymore, both of them needed to move on already. Not only was Bobby a child, but he was one of the main eggs Quackity wanted Gegg to kill off first. Bobby was the reason why Gegg existed, the reason why Charlie was given the chance to heal from his trauma, and now he is telling Charlie to his face that its ok to forgive himself for the deaths of Tilin and Flippa.

Bobby knows who Gegg is, everybody does, which is why they treat Gegg with the same amount of love that every other egg gets.

Age Regression has frequently been misunderstood, and very rarely does it get the proper representation that it deserves. It is a very "taboo" form of coping, which is unfortunate due to how common it actually is. Most people feel uncomfortable with the image of grown adults acting as toddlers in diapers, and lump it together with the whole Age Play/DDLG ordeal- yet they fail to take into account what age regressors are ACTUALLY like. while it is something that just about anyone can do, the type of regression I will be talking about stems from people who seek refuge from traumatic events usually in their childhood. It can be voluntary or involuntary, and is a way for people to explore & reevaluate what it means to be a child. it is just that- a trauma response, one that im sure many of you participate in but are too scared to discuss it due to the stigma around it. Children who have experienced abuse regress, Teenagers who struggle with mental health regress, Adults with severe PTSD regress, and yet it is such a misunderstood part of the healing process that is practically unaccounted for in media. There is little to nothing on age regression representation that delivers it in a respectful, honest manner, due to this stigma, which only serves to push it further into the shadows of mental health discourse.

So to see age regression be used on a fucking minecraft server of all places in such a healthy light is so refreshing to see. While ironic at first, Charlie showcased age regression as something that shouldn't be shunned. It actively aided him through a dark period in his life and showed that he deserves a second chance. After Gegg canonically "died" Charlie returned to the island for his birthday and was finally ready to move on from Flippa & Tilins death (and then, yakno, the whole Codeflippa Arc happened)

TL;DR #2 Charlie Slimecicle's Character In The QSMP Age Regresses As A Way To Cope From The Deaths Of Two Eggs & Oh My God It Was Actually Really Fucking Emotional

[catty-words]

i am in love with the way marianas trench builds on their own mythology for every new album, and so i already find the coming-into-oneself adventure vibes a la astoria (2015), the ominous strings and vocal flourishes a la phantoms (2019), and the harsher guitar break reminiscent of fix me (2006) delectable in their new album opener.

but as i am most insane for ever after (2011), i am especially excited for the way "a normal life" sets up the new album as a foil for the old fairy tale - a fable with a lesson to be learned more than a whimsical bedtime story. where the speaker was pulled in by the romanticism of leaving behind drudgery in ever after, the new work is frustrated with the ways they can't simply settle into the mundanity.

there's always been this unhealthy sense that the object of affection (porcelain, the dearly departed, the ghost) can fix our speaker's sense of unwellness by staying. now, though, the creative mind behind mt has lived in the security of the sought-after romance for years now, and there's still the pull of that sickness that we got so intimately acquainted with in fix me. what might it mean to embrace the voices in the night? how will venturing into the depths of himself help things fit together right? i'm so freaking excited to find out.

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (33)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none (There will be no masterlist in the next chapter. Read bottom note for more info)

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz).

The following morning, you woke up with a soreness between your legs. However, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. But that probably had to do with how gentle Yeosang had been with you the night before. 

You woke up on your back, while Yeosang slept on his stomach. His hand was outstretched, holding onto your arm as though he was worried you’d drift away while he slept. You smiled, rolling over to your side to look at him closer. He sucked in a breath, feeling the shift causing him to wake up. 

You smiled when his eyes slowly fluttered open. Your hand moved up to drift through his hair, making him smile sleepily. “Good morning.” He spoke deeply. 

You laughed lightly at his sleepy voice, finding it much deeper than normal. It was adorable to watch him speak with his cheek squished to the pillows. “Good morning.” You whispered back. 

“Are you okay?” He asked you, turning over onto his stomach. He scooted closer to you, pulling you into his chest. 

“I’m fine.” You answered, rubbing your cheek against him. “Just a bit sore.”

Yeosang snorted. “That happens.”

You guys spent a bit more time cuddling before eventually choosing to get up after hearing noises outside the tent. Yeosang gave you some of his clothes once more, expressing that they’ll be sure to buy you riding clothes, so you aren’t in skirts the whole time. 

As you stepped out, the boys who were outside all turned their heads. You stopped in your tracks when you saw their smug looks. 

“What?” You questioned. 

Wooyoung had a teasing smile on his face, while Seonghwa was wiggling his eyebrows and making kissing noises. “Don't look at me like that!” You scolded.

When Yeosang stepped out behind you, they began to wolf whistle. “What?” He asked, stopping behind you.

“Leave them alone.” Hongjoong scolded, walking towards the main tent with some papers. “Get back to work.” He waved them off, stopping in front of you. 

“You need anything, Princess?” He asked, looking you up and down. “I don't know, like a heat patch or something.”

You smiled at his worried look, but still somehow looking awkward when asking you the question. “Hongjoong.” You stopped him. “I'm fine.” You chuckled. 

“Yeah, sorry.” He awkwardly frowned. With a nod of his head, he went back to going to the main tent. 

You followed along, seeing as Yeosang had moved to get something out of the way. Hongjoong entered the tent, placing the paper he had rolled up along the small table. 

“What are you up to?” You asked, looking over the paper. 

“Just going over some things.” He answered, eyes skimming what looked to be a map. “Ya know, gang stuff.” He waved you off. 

You began to study the writing on it, eyebrows pulling together when you made out familiar street names and buildings. “Why do you have the map of Cromer?” You subconsciously asked, eyes drifting to find your family's hotel. 

“So we know where to go.” Hongjoong hummed. 

“Well obviously.” You snorted. You looked over some other papers that were off to the side, letters and notes were what they seemed to be mostly. 

There were a couple of things you read–most of which had the same kind of handwriting. When your eyes scanned over to the other side of Hongjoong, you realized that you had been looking over documents that didn’t pertain to you. Looking up at the man, you noticed he hadn’t said anything, but he for sure noticed your wandering eyes.  

“You're letting me snoop.” You hummed, giving him a confused look. 

“You're married to one of us.” He shrugged. “You're part of the gang now.”

You sighed, shoulders dropping at his words. He hadn’t even looked at you when he said you were just one of their wives. Hongjoong was the last person you would ever consider yourself close to–that was for sure. However, you still cared about what he had to say. Did he really only think of you as a wife to one of his gang members?

You know that was what others were going to see you as. If you were to ever come across another gang or even friends of theirs, the first thing you were going to be introduced to was Yeoasng’s wife. But you wanted to be known as something different to them. You wanted them to see you as you saw them. 

“Right.” You looked down. “Is that what I'm going to be known as to you? Yeosang's wife?” You asked quietly.

Hongjoong looked up at you, puzzled. “Isn't that what you are?”

In technicality, he was right, however being labeled as Yeosang’s wife by them left a guilty pain in your chest. You felt like you were picking favorites all of a sudden. Like they thought you were. Maybe it was just your conscience making you feel that way, but deep down you knew it wasn’t the case for any of them. But you just wanted to make sure. 

“I mean yeah. But I don't want you guys to think I'm just-”

“We're only joking.” Hongjoong interrupted you, seeing the guilty look on your face. “They care about you in a way that they've never cared about another person. It's new to all of us, just as it is to you.” He sighed, giving you a reassuring smile. “But we know that we can make this work. We've been together long enough to know how we go about things.”

You felt a huge relief hearing those words from him. Hearing those kinds of things from anyone might have done the same, but for some reason, having Hongjoong say them made things different. 

He was a man who kept to himself, but still somehow took care of the others enough to have them praise him. He wasn’t a man of many words, but he for sure made you notice them in the way he took care of others.  

“So, what's going on?” You asked, leaning over the table. “Is this your next heist?” 

Getting the courage to actually pick up some papers, your eyes went wide as they took some notes about a man taking money from the people of Cromer. 

“Oh it is.” You said. “Who are you aiming for? Dennis Klein.” You frowned, putting the papers back down. 

Looking over at Hongjoong’s map, he had marked off some things, which you could clearly see were the city hall and the mayor's house. You were reminded about all those times your parents had complained about him raising tax fees for the people monthly. While at first it wasn’t noticeable, after a while he started doing it consecutively. 

“Know him personally?” Hongjoong asked. 

“The mayor of Cromer? Hardly.” You snorted. “I'm assuming he has a horde that you guys are planning to raid.”

“What do you know?” He asked. 

You frowned. “He's been raising taxes on the citizens for a while. Past couple months though, he's been doing it regularly.”

“That's why we came here.” Hongjoong hummed. “We've heard from someone that the mayor was taking more money from the people.” 

You frowned, thinking about the man. He had been placed into office six years ago and from what you knew, your parents voted for him. He helped the town prosper into what it was today. He was the one who brought in trade that made the port city boom in funds and also opened the door for industrial evolution. He for sure was someone who looked forward towards the future of his people.

Not only that, but he ran his campaign on the story of how he came from the bottom and rose to the top. He was from the poorer parts of the city–the outskirts, where people didn’t have electricity just yet. He made himself into someone because he didn’t like the way he lived. By default, it made him money hungry, but he still thought about others. 

“What’s the matter?”

“I don't know.” You shrugged. “The mayor is as money hungry as the next person living in the richer part of town, but he wouldn't take from the people that way. He grew up in the poor parts of Cromer. He knows what it's like to be in the slums.”

He was someone who always went around town asking people if they needed help or taking in their request with earnestness. You did realize as of recently he had changed his attitude. He didn’t go out to speak to the public much or even held monthly town meetings. He was always cooped up inside his office and didn’t dare to tread out in the sun.

It left you both baffled and a bit worried. He was never a hermit of a person or that greedy towards his people. You wanted to find out the reasoning. The people deserve much better if this was how he was going to continue. 

“Power changes people.” Hongjoong told you.

“I guess so.”

Series Masterlist

UPDATE. Due to the nature of the next chapter there will be no taglist. Scheduled Update will be November 9 at 6:00 PM (CST)

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry , @puppyminnnie ,

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Together Bound In Madness - Part 7

Summary: There.....was...someone else…

A/N: This particular piece of work wasn’t meant to see the light of day and live its life in my WIP folder…it was supposed to….

Then I mentioned to @ken-dom that I might share and well…here we are…what can I say y'all? She’s mad encouraging and I love her dearly for it. Without her none of these would exist.

Y'all are getting an update because my internet Mama is the worst (read: best)

As always, this NSFW 18+ and has a few extra warnings attached; a kidnapping trigger warning being the biggest one, and approach this one with some caution….it’s consensual so it’s not technically rape, but the situation could make some uncomfortable.

The title comes from the Marianas Trench song The Killing Kind

Inspiration for this particular bit came from my recent rewatch of "You" on Netflix (Season 1 Episode 10 to be precise) See here (The first 2 mins or so) (Spoilers obvi)

Y'all should know by now I rarely post one shots…..so yeah, this will be multiple parts….I’m just not sure on the final tally yet. You can find previous parts here.

Enjoy my loves! <3 

He sat at an empty barstool, finding this idiot was easier than even he thought it would be. Day drinking like the real winner he was. 

He didn't even need to try, your male suitor, who had been so enamored with your lips. His lips. You were his. 

He spent no less than twenty minutes next to this man before he started talking about you. It became very clear very quickly you were nothing but a piece of ass, a conquest. 

The moment this waste of skin stood from the barstool, he saw red. Immediately pulling himself up from his own stool, following him out into the street. 

***

You jumped hearing his keys outside the door as he opened it, stepping over the threshold. 

You gasped, for the second time in as many days, his typically white jacket was stained dark red. 

“God…please no” you whispered softly, dropping your gaze as he came to stand in front of you. 

His shoes were blood spattered, you looked up slowly, your eyes taking in his blood streaked jeans, his stained shirt, his soaked jacket. 

“What did you do?” You whispered, finally meeting his eyes. “Tell me you didn't”

He stood in front of you, his face emotionless and unreadable before he spoke with a small shake of his head. He reached behind you, snapping the zip ties apart; you winced, moving your arms in front of you, stiff from being held back for so long. “I can't”

You gasped, feeling like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs as you broke down sobbing. 

He reached a bloody gloved hand to cup your cheek and you flinched away as fresh tears streamed down your cheeks. 

He sank to his knees in front of you. His gloved hands resting on your thighs. “I did this for you,” he spoke softly “He wasn't good for you,” he reasoned, “You should have heard the things he said…”

“You killed someone!” You sobbed, your voice braking with emotion as you pushed his hands off your thighs and you got to your feet, desperate to put space between you. 

Your breath caught in your throat when his bloodied hand closed around your equally bloodied wrist. You ripped it free from his grasp and took a few more steps backward as he got to his feet. 

“You, are insane,” you cried trying to inconspicuously make your way towards the door. “The thing I need protection from is you!”

His shoulders dropped and he looked visibly hurt by your words. It almost made you laugh out loud. 

“What?!” Your anger getting the better of you “You wanted me to be grateful that you kidnapped me?!” You screamed, not giving him a chance to answer before you continued. “That you've been holding me captive here for God knows how long?!” 

When he still didn't speak you continued. “What did you want to hear?! That I love you?!” Your voice cracked again with effort as you strained your vocal chords. “You're sick,” you swallowed hard, taking a breath. “You need help” your voice had dropped to a shaky whisper. “I hate you”

That had been like a knife to the gut. Everything he had done had been for you. To protect you and keep you safe from people like that Facebook guy. And you had just lumped him in with the likes of them. 

His blood boiled at the thought; how dare you accuse him of being anything like that.

He stalked forward, quickly closing the distance you had tried to put between you, but still kept his distance. 

You glared at him, standing your ground; your heart still pounding in your ears. You parted your lips, taking  a slow deep breath. 

“You’ll never be like him,” you spoke; surprised your voice was coming out even and steady. A single tear slipped down your cheek. “You’re not half the man he was” 

“You don’t mean that” he shook his head slowly, continuing to close the distance. 

You grit your teeth, your eyes laser focused on his movement “Like hell I don’t” 

In a flash, his hands grabbed both your wrists, slamming you against the door, knocking the wind from your lungs, pinning your arms over your head, your knuckles rapping against  the wood. Again, you fought to keep your voice even; you were certain your heart pounding in your chest was going to give you away regardless. He leaned closer, his bloody body pressed against yours; his breath hot next to your ear. 

You winced in pain as his hands squeezed your wrists, but kept quiet. 

His nose pressed against your cheek. “Did you let him touch you?”

You took a sharp breath in through your nose. “N-no” 

He let go of your wrists, his open palm slapping against the door. Making you jump, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“You're lying” his voice was harsh, but only loud given its proximity to your ear. 

“So what if I am,” you snapped 

He slapped you hard across the face and before you could think twice about your actions, you struck him back. 

He gripped both your aching wrists in one of his hands; the other shoving between your legs as his knee forced your thighs apart.   

Your cheek burned and his was bright red. His fingers work the soft fabric of the pyjama pants against your naked clit. 

You bit your lips together and immediately released them; both were swollen and sore. 

“Does he tongue fuck you well enough for you to brag to your friends about it?” 

“Better,” you grit your teeth, fighting back the moan that threatened to spill from between your lips “He didn't need me to tell them’

You slammed your head back against the door with a loud thud as his bare hand slid inside the loose fitting pants around your waist. You hadn't even realized he had taken his gloves off. 

Without so much as a breath of warning, his fingers plunged inside you, making your knees buckle, your hand instinctively grabbing his shoulder for support with a gasp. 

You tried to squeeze your thighs together to no avail. 

“Did he tell you how beautiful you look when you're fighting not to come unraveled?” He whispered, leaning forward to scrape his teeth along the line of your jaw 

You squeezed your eyes shut, bucking your hips into his hand. “You’re fucking pathetic"

“And you're dripping down my hand” he whispered “I bet he never saw you like this”

Your eyes locked on his and he raised an eyebrow and you whimpered loud, going limp in his arms as he curled his fingers deep inside you. 

Your hands wedged between your bodies, yanking the button on his jeans open, shoving them off his hips. A guttural moan as his cock sprang free, his fingers never stopped moving. 

Your hand streaked with the sticky, drying blood on the waistband of his jeans, the open zipper biting into your own raw bleeding skin of your wrist, palming his pulsing length. 

You whimpered, breathing hard, crying out against his mouth as he bit down hard enough on your bottom lip to draw blood. 

You gasped as he pulled his hand from the confines of your pants before pulling them off. His short fingernails biting into the back of your thigh as he wrapped your leg around his waist. Before he pulled your hand from inside his jeans, slamming your wrists against the door; his fingers lacing together with yours. 

He thrust forward, making the door rattle in its frame, again your head banging against it as you threw your head back, screaming towards the ceiling.  He caught you before you could fall to the floor, both your legs now wrapped firmly around his middle. 

He pulled away from the door, his arms wrapping around your back as your arms dropped around his shoulders. Your hips thrusting, desperate to feel the friction between you. 

His weight came down on top of you as you landed on the bed, your legs came free from his hips, your heels digging into the mattress as you thrust your hips up into his, moaning shamelessly as you braced one hand against the headboard. The entire bed shifted as he thrust harder. 

You screamed as he bit down hard into your neck. He moaned against your skin, his cock twitching inside you. 

The hand not braced against the headboard, fisted in his hair, pulling hard before he moved to look down at you underneath him.  

“You're a sick fuck” you breathed hard. 

“And you're not going to have to finish yourself on the bathroom floor” he smirked. 

The hand pushing against the headboard flew to slap him hard across the face. 

He had hardly flinched, his blue eyes flared; a deep growl in the back of his throat sent a shiver through your body. Your shrill scream filled the room as his teeth sank into the other side of your neck. Arousal jolting through your entire body. 

“You’re mine” he growled against your ear. “No one else's”

His hips snapped against yours as your hand dropped from his hair, only for him to immediately lace your fingers together, pinning your hand to the mattress. 

You didn't answer, just whimpered and writhed underneath him. Your hand squeezing his; you gasped as his lips smashed against yours, your tongue twisting together with his as you moaned against his mouth. 

He peeled his lips from yours and you gasped for air. “Say it” 

You shook your head and his hand reached to  squeeze your throat firmly.  

“Now”

You glared at him as his hand squeezed, easing only enough so you could speak. 

“No”  His weight was heavy on top of you as he shifted. That hadn't been the answer he expected, or wanted. 

He tipped his head with a frown

His entire body felt like you had set him ablaze. 

His hand landed heavy on your cheek and you winced before letting out a heavy breath running your tongue between your swollen lips with a raised eyebrow. 

You grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut as your body jerked with the force of his efforts; his cock still buried inside you. 

You were fighting everything inside you to keep your orgasm at bay, purely out of spite. You weren't in the best position to make him angry, but fuck. The jealousy practically seeping from his pores over an old high school boyfriend who lived firmly in senior year where he'd peaked was stirring something in your gut, wanting to see just how far you could push. 

He pinned your arms over your head, using your own body as his leverage, his full weight on your wrists making your arms ache down through your elbows. The sting of your wounds familiar at this point, simply adding to your arousal. 

You hated him, this complete fucking stranger. 

The hot neighbour

He had kidnapped you and ripped you from your life. 

But this is your fantasy….isn't it? You’ve watched him for months.

Not like this; you had just observed him when the opportunity presented itself; he had stalked you. Kidnapped you. 

And yet….

You whimpered as he growled next to your ear, his teeth biting hard enough to pierce skin. The sharp sting quickly soothed by his warm tongue, making you shiver. 

He was absolutely fucked in the head. This wasn't normal. 

Normal is overrated

He had murdered someone. Probably more than once…

You don't know for sure….

There was no denying it. He was covered from head to toe in someone else's blood. 

And now so are you…and he's SO good at-

A shudder rocked your entire frame as you fought the urge. It was getting harder and harder. 

You gasped, fingernails biting into the palms of your own hands as you felt yourself being filled with his hot, thick release; his tongue filling your mouth as he rode out his orgasm and you broke, nearly biting through his lip as a strangled, muffled moan came from you. 

“Tell me” he whispered, his lips moving against yours.

Still you shook your head, your lips moving against his. “No”

You cried out as his fingernails purposefully dug into your raw flesh before he pulled from inside you, forcing your legs apart before putting himself between them. You barely had time to recover, your breath catching in your throat as he thrust two of his fingers inside your throbbing core. 

Immediately pumping in and out, making you twist in the sheets, trying to escape the onslaught. Both your hands reached between your legs, fighting to pull his hand away. His free hand closes around both of your wrists with ease, keeping them still as his fingers thrust harder. 

You threw your head back against the pillow letting out a desperate cry. “G-god p-p-please”

Your bottom lip trembled as you fought against your primal instincts trying not to come unraveled again. But then he-

“Finish” he snapped, the two fingers buried inside you as far as he could get them, curled with a precision that made your orgasm jolt through your body, your hands flying to fist the sheets underneath you as you arched off the bed; a loud, desperate “FUCK” cracking from your throat. 

And still he kept going. 

He lowered himself between your thighs, looking up as you tried in vain to push him back. Your last orgasm had barely subsided as he pushed your weak legs apart. 

He leaned forward, his warm breath on your over sensitive core making you jump before he locked eyes with you. 

“Say it” he commanded

You opted for silence; much to his delight. 

He licked a hot stripe up your centre, making you cry with pleasure. If his weight hadn't had them pinned, your legs would have snapped around his head. 

You panted desperately as his warm skilled tongue lapped between your folds; his fingers bruising your thigh as he kept your legs spread wide. Your hands fisted his blond hair, your nails intentionally finding purchase in his scalp as you pulled hard on the fine strands between your fingers. 

He moaned loud, it echoing between your thighs, vibrating against your overstimulated core, making you whine, thrusting against him. He liked it; of course he did, he was a fucking masochist. 

You pulled harder on his hair, simply to elicit that delicious hum that made your legs feel like jello. Still though, you refused to give him what he had wanted; you whimpered, and gasped, and hummed, but those two words…

Again, you thrust your hips, shameless noises spilling from your lips. Your breath hitched in your throat as his tongue circled over that bundle of nerves. You moaned in the back of your throat, as you felt your bottom lip split open, trapped between your teeth. The coppery tang of your blood pricking your tongue as he fucked you with his. 

He licked and sucked like you were the most delectable thing to ever touch his taste buds. He came up for air, giving you the briefest second of relief. His lips were wet and bright red, his chin glistening with your slick. You shivered, your body recovering only slightly before he started again, making you grit your teeth as you jerked forward; a knee-jerk response, but you wanted more, you needed more. Your abs clenched as he looked up, fixing his eyes on you as his tongue continued its assault. Another shiver quaking through your body, your next orgasm threateningly close. He was like a starved man eating his last meal. You squeezed your eyes shut, as your core clenched; like it was straining to reach your peak and it was just out of reach. You filled your lungs with oxygen, not realizing you’d been holding your breath. Your whole body instinctively relaxed and all at once, your orgasm shot from your core like an explosion right through to your fingertips. His hair in your hands subjected to the onslaught of your pleasure as you gasped out sobs; a mixture of pleasure and of sheer relief as tears streamed down your cheeks and he feasted on everything you gave him. 

You collapsed on the mattress, desperate to take a full breath but your lungs refused; your body simply shaking uncontrollably with the aftermath as you released his hair from between your fingers. 

You had never been absolutely ravished or worshiped like that ever. The thought made your cheeks burn hot as you still fought to catch your breath. He had been peppering your entire body with kisses; like something in him had flipped like a switch. 

He braced himself over you as you shuddered, swallowing hard. The intensity of his gaze making you avert yours. His strong hand gripping your jaw firmly, forcing it back before he leaned forward, his tongue gliding slowly over the split in your lip before claiming your mouth in a possessive kiss…and you let him; melting into the sheets underneath you as his weight came down heavy on top of you; your arms to weak to push him off, your body too weak to protest…not that you would have. 

You’d be lying if you said his undivided attention didn’t stir something inside you. He made you feel wanted. He made you feel desired. The thought alone made your aching core throb with a seemingly insatiable need. 

When he had finally climbed from on top of you, you swallowed hard, your body finally able to relax. Forcing your eyes to stay open felt like the hardest task, but you had managed long enough to take notice that you were streaked with blood. Your t-shirt, your thighs, your hands; especially the one you'd had down the front of his jeans. Your eyes slipped closed as you succumbed to your exhaustion, trying hard not to think about what you'd just done…or worse, that you had maybe enjoyed it. 

[gregorovitch-adler]

AO3 Wrapped (Writers' Edition).

Thanks for tagging me, @lisbeth-kk and @gaylilsherlock!

1. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

That I developed a genuine hyperfixation over an OT3 (Sherlock x John x Mariana). Enough that I wrote several fics (including a smutty one) about it.

I'm not even that big of a shipper in most fandoms (I tend to be a non-shipper generally), but even when I do start shipping something, it usually just involves 2 characters at a time.

Especially with the case of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.

A year ago, I never would have imagined shipping either of them with anyone else apart from each other (because I'm generally not a multi-shipper).

It changed this year because the friendship among these three in the canon of the podcast Sherlock & co is just that good.

It was a very pleasant surprise to me. :))

Expanding my usual writing style from writing about strictly monogamous relationships (and that too usually just about Johnlock) to including a third character - and thus a polyam relationship in my fic writing - was a little challenging though.

A very interesting challenge, of course. ;)

2. How many WIP's do you have in your docs for next year?

Just one case fic right now. It's definitely going to increase.

3. Your favorite character to write this year?

Gustavo Fring from Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul!

I know I didn't write a lot of fics about him this year, I'm just featuring him during this December fluff (fluffcember) prompts challenge, but still.

He'll always be my favourite antagonist.

If you've watched these two shows, you'll realise he's not even a villain. All significant characters (especially Walter White) have various degrees of villainy under their belts.

Something about him being such a no-nonsense kinda guy on the surface, never saying a word beyond what's necessary in the source material (especially in Breaking Bad), but all of that just being a façade to cover up his human side (i.e., his feelings for Max, his determination to avenge Max's death, his genuine respect for his employees at Los Pollos Hermanos and everything else) is extremely interesting and delightful to me.

In Tumblr-speak, I want to place Gustavo Fring under my microscope. 🤭

And then there's John Watson, of course. He's my all time favourite. But this year, I just felt the need to write about Gustavo Fring too a bit more.

Also, Irene Adler is my wife. ☺ I loved writing Mollrene ficlets in December this year.

Here's to featuring her in my stories even more.

4. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

I can't think of anyone in particular at the moment, but I did find capturing John's voice in The Veiled Lodger (my first ever Sherlock & co fanfic) a bit challenging in the beginning. Because I was only getting started with my Sherlock & co fic writing journey, and I wanted everything to be perfect.

5. What's one pairing you want to explore next year?

Gus/Max.

I'll continue to write about Sherlock x John x Mariana (and even about just Holmes/Watson), too, obviously, but yeah.

I used to be a bit hesitant about this pairing before, even though I've always loved Gus ever since I first watched Breaking Bad (in 2020).

That's because we don't see Max in canon at all, save for that one (1) flashback scene which lasts for just 5 minutes (and Max dies brutally in that one...)

So, featuring Max in a fic at all would just mean writing an OC from scratch at this point. And making an OC feel like a fleshed out character makes me feel a little nervous sometimes.

But I broke all that hesitation this year, and I hope I continue to do that next year too!

6. Did you receive any gifts this year?

Yes! I received 3 beautiful art pieces (including the one in my header image) from my friend as gifts. It was lovely. 🥰 @jamielovesjam

7. Did you do any collaborative works this year?

I did! @nowiamcoveredinyou and I wrote this fic based on ACD canon this year. We had fun.

8. What do you listen to while writing?

Nothing much, to be honest. I prefer a quiet environment.

9. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Hard to choose, but if I have to, then here you go:

Sherlock stepped forward and took John’s hands in his own.

“Watson, I’ve said this before, and I’ll repeat it now: fear is a sickness. Fear is seemingly ordinary but insidious enough to eventually put one in the shackles of one’s own imagination. Never let it get to you. I can very well face Moriarty alone. He did ask to meet me, anyway. So, this is my battle. I’ll fight it.” Sherlock visibly swallowed. “Please, go now. The lady will never find a doctor as good as you.”

From my Sherlock & co fic Dilemma. It's a modern day re-write of that one scene from The Final Problem (where Watson cannot decide whether to help the old lady or to go with Holmes to meet Moriarty with him).

I wrote it just after the Part- 1 of The Shoscombe Old Place (Sherlock & co) had aired on Spotify and YouTube (and on other platforms).

Moriarty's name had been (not so) casually dropped for the first time in the podcast when John was going through all the shoutouts.

We still don't know where they'll go with that... 👀

Enough with my rambling.

Tags: @helloliriels , @nowiamcoveredinyou , and anyone else who sees this! (No pressure).

[handbarfs]

this recent q! charlie slimecicle stream was supposed to be so chill but it broke me in so many ways I haven't stopped thinking about it.

charlie just finding out that juanaflippa's room is still intact because he just left his old home and never came back after the news. charlie rummaging through juana's stuff, looking at the pictures, his voice getting softer and softer; charlie not being ready to go to juana's grave; his mouse hovering over mariana's waypoint briefly before warping back to his home to eggxile. him not naming juana's first knife because she didn't name it, and he wants to keep it like how she left things; him displaying everything sentimental to him in picture frames, the ticket, the axe and the knife; the flower that juanaflippa gave him being the only potted plant on the main entrance floor, next to a window...

this is by far the silliest shit ever and I'm too grown for this but I love love love visual storytelling so much, and I am always astounded that its coming from a fucking block game.

the stark contrast of charlie's old home being dark and completely destroyed, but juana's room being completely untouched, full of light and bittersweet memories, like its a sanctuary, a temple,, and any other player who unknowingly stumbles upon it gets this immediately.

charlie after such a long time finally builds a better base (out of rp I know the reason lol but storytelling wise it makes sense) this is a story of grief and extremely painful and slow build healing, but healing nonetheless. and we finally saw glimpses of healing today because q!charlie believes that he is not good enough and doesn't deserve nice things for himself. q!bad forgiving him because he understands the grief q!charlie is in and constantly trying to involve him in activities. q!etoiles giving him armour, even though he has NEVER spoken to q!charlie fully before; tallulah constantly reminding q!charlie that he is family and not alone; because he isn't alone and SHOULD NOT BE alone, he is loved and cared for.

i really hope something like this happens to q!quackity too because,, I love me some angst but angst is nothing without hope, otherwise its just trauma porn. thats why writing angst is so difficult because it has to be paired with hope and happiness that the character can chase after... ANYWAYS was very sad and happy at 7AM in the morning goodbye!

[chemicahs]

TF2 is unplayable and most people don’t know

Graphs showing the absolute Mariana Trench of idle bots farming for items - inflating the player numbers of TF2 on Steam’s counter (white line) vs an independent data count of actual players active in a server (bottom yellow line)

70-80% of “players” counted on steam are bots. There’s over twice as many players now as in 2012 when the game was popular? How is that possible when the game hasn’t been touched by a major update in years?

Only 3% of the bots shown here are of the cheating kind, infesting the waters of casual servers making it impossible to enjoy a match of tf2 without being instantly killed stepping out of spawn.

These sniper bots not only spread hate in the chat and just genuinely ruin the beloved game out of malice, but their hosts are actually doing illegal things such as using a youtuber’s voice to train an ai in order to make it speak vulgar threats, leading to this person getting police sent to his house.

Valve, The multi billion dollar company, says it’s “too hard” to beat a couple guys with computers in their basement, and don’t care about their reputation for their most well known game. How embarrassing, people think this game is still flourishing with “increased” player numbers and many many fans, while in reality Valve is just letting illegal shit happen in their game because it makes them a couple cents. Tf2 is such a good game that the community tries to brush off the fact the bots even exist, which is why you probably haven’t heard about it.

This game that everyone loves and thinks is doing fine isn’t in danger of losing numbers, it’s actively a cesspool of malicious bots run by real people making the game unable to be enjoyed. TF2 is NOT thriving and will continue to go downhill unless we tell more people what is going on.

An entire game has been ruined by a handful of assholes party pooping everyone else’s fun (and creating real life danger) for YEARS.

The #SaveTF2 movement of 2022 brought attention and started trending, but most people used it to say how much they love the game, and many fans still had no idea what was happening INSIDE the game. This time we are informing people about the bots and nothing else.

What can we even do? What can Valve do? There’s only one way to find out.

Screenshot credits:

[kalifornia1025]

The Three Students Pt. 1 (SPOILERS)

Alright, pt.1 reaction notes let’s get started!

Ooooh okay, sneak peek at what's to come for Sherlock! Very interesting…

I knew I KNEW Archie was gonna be “in trouble” for this episode based on the patreon newsletter!! Honestly good on John for having a whole Sherlock-esque deduction monologue about Archie being guilty (unfortunately he’s rather wrong later on)

Oooh so that’s how they end up at Oxford! Because Sherlock was asked to be a speaker! Good for him

I so get the huge difference between speaking publicly because you have to vs getting really into talking about your special interest. Same Sherlock, I getcha.

‘Autistic man turns down offer to speak to room full of people’ ngl this is a MOOD (as an autistic woman myself!)

LESTRADE MENTION!! John is so right in saying Lestrade would be putting in a lot of work to let people like Sherlock (consulting detective - not a CERTIFIED one), himself (doctor from Swindon), and Mariana (accountant from Sociedad) legally take on serious criminal cases so it’s only fair Sherlock returns the favor for that. 

Sherlock, you framed the DOG for your crimes! You’re a good consulting detective but an unhinged criminal

John you’re SO SALTY over Spain’s victory in the Euros, YOU get over it!

‘Nerd alert’, ‘Got half a mind to give you a wedgie’ of course YOU’D be a bully jock John, why am I not surprised?

Cracked open a beer already? Played Madonna late into the night? John, are you okay??

Oop, Mariana lore? 

I weirdly find John’s little chuckle cute when he’s asking Mariana what she did

Mariana, you did WHAT?? John no, that was NOT a ‘goodun’!

JRR TOLKIEN MENTION!! Been a huge Lord of the Rings fan lately

John, you’re a little TOO excited about a pub being there…

‘Wankfest’? John you said that in the same sentence as Sherlock’s speech….the speech sounds fine for now but my gut’s telling me the final draft is gonna SUCK

‘Sherly sense’ John I both love and hate you for that

Okay but shoutout to Adam Jarrell for having a BLAST with that voice acting! I certainly found it delightful

And there it is! Sherlock, you will find yourself in the middle of a case ANYWHERE

I'll say this: I love how this podcast takes the classic acd cases and reinvents them to make them make more sense in the modern day setting! The irony of a mysterious crime being committed for a Criminology controlled assessment is perfect, and honestly a step up from the original being about a Greek exam.

Sherlock: “I will take on the case, you have my word that-“ Soames: “What about the speech?” Sherlock: “…I forgot about that”, Sherlock why do you do this to yourself?

Oh John…you’re gonna become a frat boy, aren’t you?

HE IS!! JOHN YOU MESSY PERSON (I still love you <3)

Drunk John calling Mariana ‘Mrs. Hudson’ is cute to me for some reason

VODKA?! Oh he was PARTYING partying. John, why do you do this to yourself??

Oh no, poor Sherlock’s nervous!

And that’s all for part one! I REALLY really like when the podcast reinvents classic cases to have it make more sense in regard to the realistic modern day circumstances like why they’re ACTUALLY there and what case coincidentally comes up for them to solve! Also guys…I’m kinda getting worried for John. Dude hasn’t been sleeping well in the last episodes and now the alcohol is becoming more frequent for him. Am I the only one on this??

[sannylity]

Coffee Shop AU for Slimeriana.

Mariana is a hardworking barista. With a disgruntled boss and a lazy co-worker, he has developed the patience to deal with bad customers and busy days. He doesn’t take shit from nobody, even if that someone is a pretty face.

A new customer. Full-fledged American who has troubles pronouncing his orders and despite the fact that he also wears glasses, he seems to still squint his eyes just to read the menu.

His name is Charlie. He’s cute but he’s holding up the line. The customer doesn’t even have to order in Spanish, there’s literally a translation below the menu items and Mariana lets him know.

Still, it’s like he didn’t hear because he’s still trying to order in Spanish and butchering every word. Any other day, Mariana would’ve found it endearing, but he had other customers and this pendejo orders the most complicated drink known to mankind.

AND HE KEEPS COMING BACK.

The most annoying thing is not even how he holds up the line. It’s how he keeps changing his drink, always new and always too complicated to make. Sometimes he wants a cheesecake or some type of dessert. But Mariana can’t complain though, he could feel his manager’s glare on the back of his head if he even dared. Charlie tips a reasonable amount every time.

Mariana is practically helpless.

For weeks it’s torment. Weeks and weeks, he thought about begging his boss for a different shift countless of times before.

Until Charlie suddenly stopped showing up. Around 2:00 PM, every weekday, is his usual arrival. Not that Mariana anticipates him, he’s just a new regular. He knows all his regulars’ expected time. Of course.

But anyways, Charlie stopped showing up. A whole week of no two shots of espresso with two pumps of vanilla syrup and cold foam and cinnamon drizzle and any of that bullshit. A week of actually being able to keep a flow on his workstation but… There’s no random quips asking him how to say a certain Spanish word, no strange puns to make his eyes roll, no one occupying the isolated seat around the corner of the shop.

Mariana can almost convince himself that he hallucinated him this entire time until Charlie shows up again and Mariana is bracing himself for another complicated drink.

But Charlie only orders a simple cappuccino.

And he’s not alone.

Beside him is a taller man. Way taller than Mariana by significant inches, much to his mild annoyance. Then, he hears him speak and his voice, dulcet and smooth carries the words in such a pretty English accent. He calls himself Wilbur and Mariana suspected that Charlie is on a date.

Charlie was being all nervous and timid, it’s totally a first date!

Right before his shift ends, Mariana sees the pair stand up, ready to leave and probably go home together.

But when Wilbur walks up to him, it’s to his surprise to find him pulling an unwilling Charlie beside him.

“You’re Mariana, right? Can Charlie get your number? He’s been meaning to ask for it but he’s too much of a pussy to do it himself.”

Mariana has never been more confused in his life because he was 100% sure they were on a date. He was just about to say, until it suddenly makes sense in his head, like a jigsaw puzzle being completed, piece by piece.

“Is that why your drinks are… Your drinks, es demasiado difícil?” He asks him in disbelief.

Charlie has been working up the courage to ask for his number every time he walks up to order. He just wanted more time to be able to do it.

[jhilsara]

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 10

She’s sitting on her couch glaring at her phone like it's personally attacked her.

She’s trying to avoid calling him again, she’s frankly tired of it.

She’s biting at her nails, trying to do anything besides wait by her phone. The tv is on in the background but she’s not paying attention. The fear creeping in eats at her. Fear and anger. She sighs and reaches for her phone and swipes to her contacts. His name is right under the recent call log. Her thumb hovers over it, debating on calling Hobie again.

He has disappeared and it’s got her terrified.

He hasn’t shown at the pub in a few days. So, she decided to stop by his houseboat, which was empty. She’d say it doesn’t look like anything had been touched but she wouldn’t know. The place is chaotically organized and she isn't there enough to make a definitive statement on if it's been touched or not.

What really frightened her was that Spider-Man wasn’t out either. There had been a few incidents, petty crime stuff… but she knows Hobie, she knows when he patrols. He would have caught it.

She called him. Just to check in… that was three days ago.

Pacing her living room, her thumb still hovers over the call button, unsure if she should. She’s frustrated and tired. Her brow furrows as she stares down at her screen, her heart feeling tight.

She had spent the night before walking the streets and checking shitty little alleys. She was worried he might be dead in one, if she were to voice her fears. Just even thinking about it made her sick. She came up empty though. She doesn't know what's worse, finding him dead or not knowing if he's dead.

Her fear is replaced with anger as she stares down at her phone. If he wasn’t dead he better have an amazing excuse, because she was going to kill him.

She finally hits the call button, bouncing on her feet trying to diffuse the nervous tension in her body.

“I swear to god if this bloody bastard doesn’t pick up I’m going to ballistic…” she mutters to herself.

It sends her to voice mail.

“Absolute fucking prick.” She throws her phone down and walks off to her bedroom. “I can’t stay up another night wondering where he is!” She pulls at her hair and goes to lay on her bed.

Her weight falls onto the bed with a thud. She curls into herself, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, begging her brain to stop feeding her anxiety. She's been worrying herself sick for days. She doesn't remember the last real meal she ate, she hasn't felt this bad since her family dog ran off when she was ten. She cried and cried and cried for that dog. Hoping it would come back home, back to her. The dog never came back and all she got was scolded by her mother for still crying over the lost animal.

She squeezes her eyes shuts and prays to just fall asleep, anything was better than what was happening in her head. 

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

She groans at the consistent noise and tries to go back to sleep. She had finally passed out, but now this repetitive tapping was waking her up.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

She sits up and looks out her bedroom window, nothing. She flops back down and sighs shoving a pillow over her ears.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

She suddenly bolts up; the noise isn’t from her bedroom window. It’s her balcony.

“Absolutely not.” she groans to herself.

 She throws the blankets off her and rushes into the living room. She sees the familiar silhouette on her balcony.

She glares at the door, her face twisting in anger. She reaches for the lamp to turn on. Once the light floods her room, she sees him on her balcony. Her face sours even more upon seeing him. He has a faltering smile on his face as he looks at her. Waiting.

“Give me on good reason to let you in here.” She demands crossing her arms as she shoots him a look that’s says more than her words could. Her eyes are clouded as she glares daggers at him.

“C’mon MJ. Let me in, cold out here.” He attempts, voice muffled through the glass.

Her brows raise in irritation, “Don’t care. You literally disappeared on me for a week. So, unless your explanation is life altering, I don’t want to see your face.” She says walking away from her balcony doors.

She’s glad he isn’t dead, but now it’s just unfiltered boiling rage coursing through her body towards him.

“Mariana please…I can explain, promise.” He says pressing his forehead on the door. He pleads with his big brown eyes, that always make her want to scream. He looks like a lost dog.

She huffs in frustration and defeat, “Fucking prick, disappears for a week and gives me those stupid puppy dog eyes and I just give in…” she mumbles chastising herself.

She flings the door open and steps back. She crosses her arms and looks at him, waiting.

He stumbles in behind her, surprised he actually made it this far. His eyes slowly look over her, taking in her appearance.

She’s in her pajamas, hair messy from sleep. She has dark circles under his eyes and he can see she’s been biting her nails. He notices how her hands dig into her own arms as they lay crossed over her chest. She’s guarding herself, protecting herself from him.

He realizes, as he looks her over, she’s been worried over him. Desperately so.

He sighs and shakes his head. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “Don’t have a good excuse for my disappearing act…”

She scoffs and turns away from him, “Course you don’t.” she whispers bitterly.

“Hey, listen,” He goes to touch her shoulder but she recoils from his touch. His hand lowers, shaking. He pulls back to himself.

“I was trying to avoid you okay?” he tells her honestly.

Her head whips up to look at him in almost confused betrayal. She doesn’t say anything, the silence acting as enough of an answer for him.

“Can’t do this,” He says running his hands over his face, “I don’t keep people around…” He starts. “Connecting with people isn’t my thing, I like being alone mostly… they don’t stick around like you.” He mutters looking at her.

 “So, what? You, you just cut me off? Cause you’re afraid?” she accuses voice rising.  “What about your band and those photos? Are they not your friends?” she adds in confusion.

“Yeah, they are,” He sighs, his shoulders dropping. “It’s different with you… no one’s stuck around the way you have and I ran.”  He tells her. Owning up what he did. He looks at her trying to get what he needs to say out. It feels like his throats swollen, filled with unspoken words that are too big and too important to get out.

“You came to tell me you’re afraid of intimacy after disappearing for a week… I figured that out on my own, thanks.” She says unimpressed.

She scoffs at where this conversation is going, she’s in disbelief. She doesn't want to hear anymore, it hurts too much.

“Not why I’m here MJ.” He says shaking his head.

“Please enlighten me, because I’m lost!” She says looking up at him. Her eyes are glossy and her voice is cracking, “I don’t know what is going on with you and I’m mad at you Hobie. I don’t want to be but I am.” She tells him her hands turning to fists at her side as they tremble. 

“M���not good at this…” He mutters, “Can I be honest?” he asks, voice ever so quiet. 

“Yes, that’s all I’m asking.” She replies looking lost. 

“I can’t lose you and that terrifies me alright? What happens if you’re with me and you die?” he asks voice shaking a little. “Can’t have that alright? You’re too important to me… Thought if I left it’d be easier on you.” He admits.

Her hearts racing, she knows what he means, but it doesn’t sit right in her stomach.

“You’re a real selfish dickhead you know that?” she says, her voice small as she looks up at him. “I don’t know what we’re doing Hobie, but I know I don’t want to lose you either.” She says exasperatedly.

She turns her head away from him looking down at her own feet, “I have messed up a lot of relationships okay…All I have is the people at the pub, my dad, and.. and you.” She says frustratedly.

Her arms come up and wrap around herself tightly. Trying to comfort herself the best she can.

“And to be honest… I prefer you to the lot at the pub.” She says with a dry, choked, laugh. She can feel her eyes really start to well up and she tries to stop herself. The last thing she wants to do is cry.

He reaches out hesitantly for her, she doesn’t recoil from his touch this time. He gently pulls her into a hug. She doesn’t return it, but she doesn’t push him away either.

He tucks her under his head, his chin resting on her.  

“Fucked up…” He mumbles lowly, “How do I fix this?” he asks her softly.

“You can’t just disappear on me…” Her voice breaks, almost into a sob but she holds herself back. “I thought you were dead in some alley.” She murmurs into his chest wrapping her arms slowly around him. Holding him tightly, her hands clinging onto him.

He rubs soothing circles into her back, “Can’t get rid of me that easily, promise.” He chuckles softly.

She scoffs a bit, “Says the guy crawling in my window needing to be stitched up every other week.”

The air around them isn’t filled with the same tense energy as before. They’re easing back into themselves, their routine. She enjoys the comfort of his large hands on her back and how she fits into the crook of his neck.

He enjoys her warmth, how it feels when she holds onto him. He didn't realize how much he missed it until it was gone. Even if it was just for a few days. 

He gives a genuine laugh at her words, it’s deep and shakes her body with him, “That was only a couple times, c’mon give me some credit here?” He says pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I don’t know what you did before me, can’t imagine you stitching yourself up.” She says gently.

He scoffs, “I’m a great nurse! Wrapped your ankle pretty well.” He says haughtily.

She snorts and looks up at him, “Uh-huh, and how many times have you patched yourself up since I started to?”

He makes a face and rolls his eyes at her, “What? Want me to go find another pretty girls’ balcony to patch me up instead? Ya sick of me, that it?” he teases her.

She laughs softly at that, “What like a tom cat? You a stray now?” She asks cocking her head to the side. 

He makes a face of mild distaste, “Good to know I’m just a stray cat luv, gotta keep my ego in check.”

“What, you don’t like that? Do you want to be domesticated instead?” she teases with a grin.

“Okay you’re just takin’ the piss now.” He mutters in fake irritation.

She just giggles, but once that dies down they’re both staring into each other’s eyes. The silence almost too loud between them. He moves his hand to cup her face, his eyes taking in her every feature.

“Can’t lose you… it’s dangerous being around me.” He says seriously, brows furrowed.

She shakes her head, “It’s worth it to be with you.” She says softly.

He feels her chipping away at his heart, carving her little hole for herself to sit in.

He presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls her against him tightly, her hands returning the gesture. Holding onto him, digging her nails into him, like she’s afraid he’ll disappear again.

“I…” He opens his mouth to tell her something, but loses his voice. It cracks and makes him wish he could just tell her.

“It’s okay.” She says softly. “We don’t, we don’t need to do that right now.”

He sighs and pulls back to look at her, “I want to try whatever it is, that we’re doing.”

She nods her head in agreement, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “A different conversation, not tonight.” She holds his face in her hands.

Her eyes flicker down, her face burning for a moment, “Can you stay tonight… with me?” she asks a little embarrassed.

He grins and gives a soft chuckle, “Yeah I can. Not going anywhere.” He gently reminds her.

She grins at him and moves to grab his hand and pull him to her bedroom. “Good.”

Tag List: @missshelleyduvall

message if you want to be added to the tag list :)

[sandcobangevent]

Happy Birthday

By @anmaje and @ratinavan

“I’m sure he’ll be right down.” John loaded their dishes in the dishwasher and put an unused set away, while Mariana checked her purse again: Keys, wallet, phone. Passport, boarding pass, visa. Everything was in order.

“I’m not so sure about that. Your last case probably put him in a coma.” She chuckled.

“Not on your birthday.” He closed the latch, pushed a button and a low rumble washed through 221a. The morning had been beautiful, even with John’s slightly burnt pancakes, Mariana hoped the weather was as nice back home.

“Now, Archie, you be a good boy for me, hmm?” Mariana kissed the top of his head, leaving a faint, plum lipstick print.

“Now look what you’ve done! I still don’t get why you’re wearing all that to sit on a plane for three hours.” John crossed his arms and smiled warmly at her. She stood up and hugged him tight.

“It’s my birthday! I get to look nice,” she said. John squeezed her and let go.

“The nicest in all of economy.”

She hit him playfully.

“Sherlock! Last chance, mate!” John yelled up the stairs. And down came the great detective. He pattered down the seventeen steps in his dressing gown. Were you a stranger at 221b Baker Street, you might have thought him elegant as he floated down. John and Mariana knew better, but pretended not to have just seen their eyebagged friend fall down the stairs and stick the landing like a cat landing on all fours.

“Mrs. Hudson, about my hours on the time table-”

“I punched them in last night.”

“And the bill from my chemist?”

“Stammo sent me his colleague’s details days ago, Sherlock, it’s-”

“And when do you return?” He was exasperated. She smiled at him.

“In a week. Don’t miss me too much.” She wrapped her arms around him. He sighed contently.

“Imposible,” said he and let go. “Have a nice trip.”

“Thank you, guys. Take care, yeah? Adios!” She pulled her big suitcase behind her and the door closed.

John stood dumbfounded looking up at Sherlock. He couldn't believe it. He forgot. He forgot.

Sherlock stretched and yawned.

“I’m going back to bed, I would appreciate some quiet, if you are amenable.”

“Sure thing mate… you sure you’re not forgetting something?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Dunno. Something important?”

“Watson, what on earth would I be-”

His face fell.

“Good God. You’re right.” The fallen expression shifted and cringed, his voice quiet. “Watson you’re right. Oh fuck.”

He sprang into action. Rushing upstairs, followed by John.

“She left in a car, judging by her amount of luggage. What car, what car, what car-”

“Sherlock, mate, calm down.” John entered 221b and was thrown his jacket.

“Put on your shoes!”

“What? No, just text her, or call her! She’ll understand, she knows-”

Sherlock was jumping on one foot, attempting to put on his coat and other shoe simultaneously.

“I will not abandon my duty as a friend.” He slipped on the shoe and finally stood tall over John. “Are you coming?”

There was still concern in the face of his friend, lines carved in his forehead accompanied by flittering eyes. John pulled on his jacket.

“I’m not riding in a bike basket again.”

“Bakerloo line to Paddington. Paddington to Heathrow. I’ll buy any ticket, and find her gate. Easy.” Sherlock ran down the steps to Baker Street station.

The morning sun shone down onto the platform through the big Victorian arches. John had little time to admire it as he tried to regain his breath.

“Phew, hah, God. Yeah, easy. Easy peasy.” He stood up, ignoring the trouble his bad leg might give him later.

They heard the train rumble.

“Right on cue! Come on Watson, this will indeed be easy peasy!”

“No! Nonono. NO!” Sherlock’s voice echoed on the platform. Paddington was a big place. A big stupid place where escalators and lifts were suddenly out of use. He kicked the air.

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this. This wasn’t- I hadn’t-!” He knew a thousand stares pierced him. He squeezed his eyes shut. Keeping the crowd out and tears away. Until a hand grasped his wrist, and another pulled his fingers from his palms.

“Sherlock. There’ll be another train. We’ll catch her, I promise.”

Grey eyes opened.

“You’re right...”

“...Let's go back to that kiosk and get her a damned gift.”

The flowers were nice, John thought. For a Sainsbury’s, anyways. Three colours of roses. Red, orange and yellow. He massaged his aching knee as best he could on the crammed carriage, he knew it would get like this. Sherlock sat beside him, staring out the window, but in a state of unrest. His leg bounced up and down, he was clicking his tongue and covering his ears, since the ear defenders were forgotten in their rush. The carriage was full of travellers, suitcases took up as much space as people and not one but two babies were crying. This was sensory hell, not only for Sherlock, for everyone involved.

“Don’t be mad at yourself.”

“I don’t wish to discuss it.”

“It happens to all of us! On my second tour I forgot to call on my mum’s birthday. She thought for sure I was dead. A superior had to tell me to call, because she had been shouting at him for 20-”

He was interrupted by an electronic voice that may have belonged to a woman once announcing their stop.

Sherlock shot out of his seat.

“Hello good sir! What a splendid day to travel. I will be needing the cheapest ticket you have in your system, please and thank you!” Sherlock smiled big. Too big. But the attendee behind the counter cared little.

“Only one?” She looked over his shoulder at John.

“Yes, only one, chop chop.” Sherlock kept smiling.

“Alright… I got a cancelled ticket to Manchester?”

“‘Course you got a cancelled ticket to Manchester.” John chuckled behind Sherlock and got his toes stepped on in turn.

“That will do, thank you,” Sherlock said while pulling out his card.

“I’ll just need to see your passport.”

Sherlock Holmes’ passport was nestled between his fingerprint kit and his small collection of stress balls in the left drawer of his desk in 221b Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes sat outside Heathrow airport on a bench with his head in his hands.

“Her plane hasn’t taken off yet. You can still call.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Watson.”

“Hear what? She won't be cross, mate-”

“I don’t want to hear your entirely unhelpful solutions!” The crestfallen detective snapped. He stared up at his friend, who stood in front of him with a bouquet of rumpled roses.

“I don’t want you to tell me how to apologise to my friend. I made a mess, and I’ll clean it how I like. I made the bed. I’ve sown the seeds. Karma’s a bitch and I…”

“... am one too?”

“Am a bad friend.” His head fell into his hands again, attempting to hide an unwelcome sob. John sat down and had an arm around his friend immediately.

“Hey now, Sherlock, that isn’t true.”

“Yes it is! You two are so damned considerate, and I can’t even retain a fucking birthdate!”

“Alright! Big words! You’re still wrong, though. I’ve never had a friend of mine even consider fucking with airport security just to say happy birthday. I’d call that pretty damn considerate.” John smiled at him, attempting to catch his eyes. Sherlock looked ahead instead.

“Do you see that man, Watson?” He nodded at a frustrated man shoving a duffle bag in his car trunk. John frowned.

“What about him?”

The man slammed the trunk and walked swiftly back towards the airport.

“He has forgotten something, he has just realised, you see? It has nothing to do with luggage, as he didn’t think a second about the bag. What might you assume about him?” Sherlock looked expectantly at John. He still had tears on his cheeks.

“He knows where he left it?” John tried.

“And there’s a chance of recovery, so it would be in a place inaccessible to the general public. He works here.” Sherlock sniffled and dried his cheek with his coat sleeve. He stood up, gaze transfixed on the car. John followed.

“I thought we were having a heart to heart here,” he said playfully. Sherlock’s head snapped to him and long arms wrapped awkwardly around him.

“We were. Thank you for your comfort.” Sherlock was hugged in return and discretely whipped his nose on John's shoulder.

“And what are we doing now?” Said John, pulling away with a grin on his face.

“Fucking with airport security. Obviously.”

“Just bringing this man through to a private room for a search, don’t mind me.” The wrinkled uniform was slightly too big on Sherlock, but no one noticed as he confidently showed John through crowds and doors they shouldn’t have been able to get through.

“I can’t believe this is working.”

“ Shush ! Don’t look so smug, you’re about to strip in front of a stranger, John.”

“Maybe the man I am pretending to be likes that.”

Sherlock laughed and led them towards Mariana’s gate.

Mariana sat close to the giant window overlooking the runways. She watched as the luggage cart pulled away from the plane, the bridge extended towards it, priority boarding lined up. She barely registered two sets of rushing footsteps in the hustle and bustle of the airport.

“Mariana!”

She turned around confused to two familiar men, one with flowers, the other in a terrible service uniform, both out of breath. She stood up.

“ What on earth are you doing here?! ” She tried to keep it down, but it was already too late. Sherlock pulled off the terrible cap that came with the terrible uniform with the manner of a man repenting his most heinous sins.

“I have come to seek amends, dear friend, amends in spite of my neglect, my carelessness, my failings.” He spoke clearly and with great feeling. Mariana wanted to sink through the floor.

“I am a difficult man, you know this, Watson knows this.”

“Hi Mari.” John grinned and waved. The roses he handed to Sherlock might have been nice at some point. A teenager was filming, her mother had her hand to her heart as Sherlock stepped closer to Mariana.

“Yet you have been dutiful, diligent, you have cared for me and my peculiarities, without protest. I owe you much more than I am able to give or say-”

“Especially cause security might come along any minute-”

“ Shush John! And to think that I couldn’t even remember to congratulate you on this most special day. I am so truly sorry, Mariana.” He stood before her and looked her in the eyes. She had never been so beet red in her life, yet as she looked into her friends eyes and saw nothing but remorse and guilt, she softened. He took her hand and placed the roses in it.

“I pray you might find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“ Oh he’s gonna pull out a ring!” “Mum! Shut up!”

Mariana laughed, bright and loud, what else are you supposed to do as your friend kneels, begging you for forgiveness in a stolen, and quite smelly, service uniform? John pointed at his watch, and then the gate. She looked down at Sherlock, his gaze was pointed straight down.

“You idiot, Sherlock Holmes, you great big fool. Of course I forgive you.” She put her hands on his cheeks so he would look at her. Now his eyes were hopeful.

“Really?”

“Yes I forgive you!” She shouted. A sigh of relief rushed through the crowd.

“Now say what you really came to say.” She pulled him up from the dirty floor. The crowd held their breath again.

“Say yes!” “Mu-um!”

“Well, Mariana Ametxazurra… Happy birthday.” Sherlock said. Mariana hugged him tight.

“What?!” “ Mum! Shut it!”

He held her in turn for a second before she wiggled free.

“Thank you, Sherlock, now run away you stupid drama queen. Come here John!” She waved him over to hug him goodbye.

“Have a safe flight, yeah?” He said.

“She doesn’t have much say in that.” Sherlock said, while pulling on the stolen cap again.

“No shit, mate, it’s an expression.”

“I know it’s an expression, a bloody stupid expression.”

“Yeah, well, it’s nice to hear-”

“Nice to hear? She’s probably thinking exactly what I-”

“Boys please! I have to go, and so do you. Go!” Mariana had gathered her things, and had her boarding pass in hand. The two men looked at each other and exchanged a nod.

“You’re right, Mrs. Hudson. Fare well, despite your helplessness as you lay your life in the hands of a person you’ve never met.”

John pushed Sherlock along. She waved at them and watched with utter adoration as security finally arrived.

Idiotas , she thought… Mis idiotas .

__________

Check it out on AO3 too!

[astraldepths]

Music Meme Time!

I did krinklcut's music meme! :D Here is a youtube playlist of my song choices, and below are my notes about why I picked them:

Epic - Love, and Other Drugs by Family and Friends

I really love the feeling of this one, and I chose it as the Epic song because it starts out sweetly and builds in intensity with the desperation in the singer's voice, then evens out into something slower but still intense, and alternates between those two moods until fading into distortion. 10/10, this is what it feels like to be overwhelmed by the feeling of love!

2. Cheerful - Safari by Teen Girl Scientist Monthly

I first heard this song as outro music in a few of BriTANicK's sketch videos, and that part of the chorus always sort of stuck with me, but I didn't actually look up this band until years later? But when I did, I fell into their stuff head-first. I really just love the vibe they have; it's so determined and hopeful! This is one of their earlier songs (from their first EP in 2010) but their later stuff is also fantastic, and just so…earnest in the way that it is.

(also their songwriter uses they/them pronouns and is very cool! and they're coming out with a new song in January! aaah!)

3. Sugary Sweet - If You Should Try to Kiss Her by Dressy Bessy

If you're like me, you know exactly where I know this song from. <3 It was in But I'm A Cheerleader (1999), and fit in perfectly with the candy-colored world of the movie, with its bright instrumentals and sweet vocals. I love it :')

4. The Good Old Days - Nights Like These by Marianas Trench

I thought about picking a song I liked when I was younger, but I chose this one because it fascinates me. It came out this year, but from the moment I heard it, I felt like I'd always known it. Not in a repetitive way, though there are songs it's similar to, but something about this kinda gave me deja vu.

Also it matches the specific vibe of songs I loved in like 2012-2014, where there was just a certain feeling to the music that's hard to explain? But this one has that feeling, and so it strikes a particular nostalgic chord with me. Also the singers' voices are so goood, god. This song was so good live!

5. Jogging - I'll Be Here Awake by Arthur Yoria

I actually heard this artist for the first time in one of Tom Scott's early videos! He used the song "At Least You've Been Told" in the video "Breakfast: Fortified With Iron", and that one's a good time too! But when I listened to more songs from that album, "I'll Be Here Awake" is the one that I liked the best.

It definitely has a 00s flavor, and it's a nice upbeat song that I put on my playlists for when I need to get shit done. Also how can anyone go wrong with the lyric, "…and crave a little pain when no one's watching"?

6. Unusual - Gay Thoughts by The Growlers

It's hard to pick something unusual, because…I mean...you know how I am about music at this point. xD I'm not really picky, and I can find a genuine love for probably any genre of thing. So I picked a song that felt unusual to me the first time I heard it, because that counts, right?

I don't even remember when I found this, but it was a tumblr audio post, and it was not at all what I expected when I hit the play button. The combination of the style of music with the content of the lyrics is so interesting, and it's definitely a vibe!

7. The Stage - Je N'aime Que Toi from Les Chansons d'amour

There are lots of musicals or operas I could have picked from, but I like this song, so I chose this one. <3 It's from Les Chansons d'amour (2007), a musical film that at the start is about the dynamics of a threesome relationship, but then ends up being more about grief and accepting love after loss.

This song is from the earlier part of the movie, where a couple are having an argument and calling each other sluts, and then their girlfriend is like, "hey! :) it's cool :) I'm here to bring you together!"

The english subtitles in the movie translate this song weirdly (and maybe the other songs too? idk. The translator seems too focused on making the english lyrics rhyme, and they've gotta stop that; it's so strange), so you're better off looking up other translations or even just clicking the "translate" button on a youtube comment that has the lyrics written out. But, still!

8. Yourself - Now or Never Now by Metric

Some of the other songs I'm choosing for this meme are actually on my Selfmix playlist, which is for songs that sort of fit in with my image of who I am as a person. Specifically, "Safari" and "I'll Be Here Awake" are on it, and the song I picked for number nine is the first song in the playlist!

This one, "Now Or Never Now", is right in the middle of it.

With this song I really relate to the feelings of like…stasis, of not being in control of how fast you're moving in life, of having to rebuild your sense of self and learn to take ownership of what you are. This is my favorite part: "Because everything that's under my skin / Where I end and begin / Still belongs to me".

9. Emotional - Nine by Sleeping At Last

Aha you're going to regret putting the sad song last. :)

This is just…yeah. This is a song that I see myself in, and it's an amazing song, but it has to be listened to in moderation.

It came up on shuffle earlier this week when I was driving to work, and I wasn't in a good position to change it, so I had to listen to the whole thing and then take a moment after to calm down. It's a very powerful song, but…oof.

for this meme, I am tagging: @semiotomatics @dasozelotvonnebenan @catsarehumanstoo @aeriialace @chaoticbooklesbian and anyone else who wants to do it!