#they’re not allowed to take credit for other people’s works because it fucks up their dignity girl that’s so silly

[kavalyera]

sorry not sorry but i’d love to make another ventrue oc based off of patrick bateman this clan has me in a chokehold i heard the words “arrogance” and “vampire” and i was like yes bitch sign me up

[ghostaholics]

I am LIVING for your jealous/possessive enemies with benefits ghost. He sees reader being a little too friendly with another man and goes FERAL. Nobody knows why. Not even him.

❝ 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐋. ❞ Fucks your throat raw, likes seeing your lips stretched around his cock, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth and trickling down your chin as you struggle to take all of him in, just a little messy; the way you allow your muscles to go slightly lax to deep-throat him, but it’s still so goddamn tight. And you spoil him with your mouth, gently sucking at the head and tonguing the entirety of him, even better when you add your palm too, can’t quite wrap your fingers around his cock but it’s hot and slippery and all that matters is you’re trying your best. His hand is threaded through your hair, close to the scalp, close to the roots and flexing hard when you swallow him to the hilt – loves that this lets him control your movements. From the expression on your face, this fucked-out, glazed-over look, he can tell that you’re enjoying it more than he is; gets his point proven when you snake your fingers down between your legs to play with your clit because you just can’t help yourself. (❝ What would all of ‘em think if they saw you on your knees for me, huh, sweetheart? ❞) And there’s something really satisfying to him hearing how utterly wrecked your voice is the next day when you sound hoarse trying to talk to other people.

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇. ❞ He has you facing the mirror, sitting reverse on his lap with your legs wrenched apart – forces you to pay attention to how his cock’s got you split open like this, the easiest way for him to work himself inside your cunt. He’s got one hand on your hip, guiding you up and down just how you need him at a rough and steady rate. His other hand spans over your jaw, your throat; directing you to look at your reflection and how it’s him that’s ruining you – your wet and sticky slickness soaking his cock. He wants you to see what he sees: you, taking him so well, everything that he offers. (❝ No. Eyes open. Gotta remind you who’s the only one that can turn you into such a fucking mess like this, yeah? ❞)

❝ 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓. ❞ He mutters it under his breath, has a hand over your mouth to stifle your noises – Jesus Christ, you’re so goddamn loud; in the blackness of the supply closet where he’s got you, back against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist (❝ Just a quick fuck, c’mon. I know you’re aching for it. ❞) – only needs five minutes to get you off. And when you’re groaning too fucking much while he pounds into your cunt, Ghost tells himself that he doesn’t want to be caught dead with you like this. You don’t either, of course, considering the mutual feelings of animosity shared between the two of you. So it’s a low growl, a warning from him: ❝ If you don’t shut up, they’re gonna hear us— ❞ But the idea only rips another long moan from your throat. And when he sees how much you might actually want that, for somebody to walk by and figure out that you’re getting stuffed full of his cock, it makes him fuck you even harder just to test how good you can keep quiet for him.

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔!𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 || 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

banner credit by cafekitsune

[deaddovedecadence]

Title: First Meeting (The Sunshine Verse)

Summary: You come face to face with the leader of the Batclan mob

Warning(s): Possesive behavior, scarring, kidnapping

You don’t remember being drugged, you don’t remember losing track of Lyre, you don’t remember going anywhere and yet you’re here, stuck in an unfamiliar room, a chain on your ankle. You’re unsafe, you know this, and there’s nothing you can do about it. The room is clean, not a speck of dust anywhere, and it smells like lemons, not lemon scented cleaner but real, fresh lemons. You hate it. It's not your first time being kidnapped but usually you’re confined to a dark room or messy, dirty basements that make you want to throw up. This is your first time being kidnapped since joining the force (you had a really unique childhood okay)  and you can’t help but wonder why you've been taken, if someone thinks you'll have real information for that.

Soft, well muffled sounds start up next to the door but quickly fade to silence. You hate it here, the thick silence, the not knowing where your best friend (brother) is, the chain that rests on your ankle. Speaking of the chain, you haven’t tried to walk yet and you can’t help but be curious. Slowly, carefully,, you get yourself out of bed and walk to one of the doors, letting it creak open. It;s only a bathroom. There’s one other door in the room and you’re pretty sure that you know where it leads. Out of here. You start walking towards that door but the chain stops you before you can get too close. Going back a few steps, you make a few loops in the area that seems safe and attempt to run towards the door. Immediately the chains are pulling you back and you slam to the floor. Well whoever has you certainly isn’t an idiot, which makes your job all that much harder. 

Eventually you pull yourself off of the floor and crawl to the bed. As soon as you’ve arranged yourself in a manner that doesn’t hurt too much, you’re asleep. 

“Lyre,” you call, listening to the echoing chirps of the birds, trying to ignore the sounds of “lyre, lyre, not lyre,” to themselves, loud as can be. It’s foggy out today, but not so much that you can’t see in front of you. The walk to work is weird without your best friend, but peaceful, even though the birds are chirping loudly, mocking birds calling Lyre’s name. As you’re approaching the police station, you note the crowd of people, how their murmurs grow and change. They’re all saying his name. You get closer and your best friend (brother) is just laying there, spread out on the pavement, his blood staining everything a terrible shade of red. You kneel down, staring at him. Lyre’s eyes are wide open, unseeing and you can’t help closing them. Your hands are red now. 

You wake up screaming. 

It takes a minute of blind panic for you to calm down and become aware of your surroundings again. You’re in the same room as yesterday and still sore as fuck. The only real change is that there’s a chair in the middle of the room, well more like a throne (you may or may not role your eyes) and a man sitting on the throne. He’s wearing a venetian carnival mask, black with a white bat around each eye. Every gothamite knows it as Sire’s mask. 

You’ve been kidnapped by the fucking bats. Shit! 

“May I help you?” You ask politely as you can manage. Sire’s mask, cold and porcelain keeps smiling,golden even as the man takes off his fucking mask. You’re going to die, you’re going to fucking die. You look down so you can’t see his face. The man sighs.

“You can look up. I have no plans to kill you. Rather I’d like to thank you. You took care of my son while he wouldn’t allow me to.” Now you’re confused. You chance a look up and meet the eyes of bruce fucking wayne, gotham’s biggest  philanthropist. You don’t even know what to say, because the man who’s been credited for saving Gotham is the one keeping it in order as the cruelest man on the east coast.  “I don’t understand Mr.Wayne. I don’t know any of your children.” 

Bruce Wayne smiles faintly, “Not even Jason?” Every single person born and bred in Gotham knows the tragedy of Jason. It’s said that a mobster went after him and killed him, and in revenge Mr. Wayne swore to oust the mob from Gotham city. Knowing what  you know now makes you wonder what really happened. “No offense but I’m pretty sure that Jason is dead.” Wayne laughs bitterly. “We thought so but when your friend Lyre had to go to the hospital,, my doctors found something pretty interesting. A blood match. Would you like to guess who exactly is the match” everything starts to fade out and go dizzy. You were the one that made Lyre go to the hospital because he’s always hated hospitals. “Was it Jason?” 

“It was Jason.” Wayne unless his legs, neatly rearranging himself. “I’d like to tell you a story.” You shrug, looking away. “When my son was a child, he lived on the streets. One day I had a meeting in Crime alley and he was crazy enough to try and steal the tires off my car. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. It’s so much like the Lyre you know that you know, mischievous and carefully reckless, always doing something that he shouldn’t be. What was real? “And when I came back to my car, there was this tiny vicious little boy fighting my guards and fucking winning. I’ve always been fond of stubbornness and there was something about Jason’s desperate desire to survive that stuck me so I brought him home with me. He’s been a member of the family ever since.” 

When Wayne talks about Jason, you’re reminded of a Pet owner talking about their best show animal or something. He’s not talking about them like they’re humans but as if they’re prizes to be won. He sounds like a collector, marveling over his trophies. You can’t help but want to upset this man, can’t help but dislike him. 

“If he was a member of your family, why did he leave you?” Maybe he’ll hurt you, maybe he’ll kill you but either way you’re going to mouth off for lyre. Wayne’s expression doesn’t even change.  “I have six other children,” he explains, “and half of them have anger issues. Do you really think that you’re going to phase me?” 

Your logical mind reminds you to be polite, your desire to live tells you to go apeshit. “That doesn’t answer my question,” you snap, ignoring his question all together. He doesn’t even blink. “Jason left because he didn’t agree with our methods. He did not understand the reasons I allowed my youngest to work in the basement at twelve nor did he appreciate our love. “ You’ve heard the stories from Lyre about his family, about the scars he carries from their love. Now that you've met Wayne you can’t help but wonder how many of those scars are physical. There’s a scars on Lyre’s back, tally marks, five of them to be exact. Are those from here? Are his tattoos from here? 

“When do I get to see Lyre again?” 

Wayne smiles Serenely, and for a moment he doesn’t look like a monster, instead he looks soft, and almost genuine. “When Jason calms down enough to be safe to be around again.” You tilt your head, wonder what he means and carefully do not ask. “Am I stuck in here permanently?” Wayne shakes his head politely. “No you’ll be coming to dinner tonight and Alfred will help you order anything that you might need.” That’s not what you mean. You want to go home. “Can I go home?” “This is your home.” You scoff and bear teeth. “My home is a little apartment by the wharf, not a mansion full of crazy people.” 

Wayne’s smile turns sharp, vicious. “I’d like to remind you that your privileges hedge on your good behavior. It’d be very easy to lock you away until you’re feeling more polite.” You get the feeling that wayne isn’t making a threat. He’s making a promise. 

[hellionscorner]

Til Death do us Part

✨✨🌸🌸🌸First Fic, Darlings-- I apologize if it's too long or maybe some errors I'm still learning this thing🌸🌸🌸✨✨

Warnings: Fem! Reader, Arranged Marriage, “noncon”, Spitting, Tiddy slapping, Toji tossing you around like a doll, Hate Fucking,  Reader is a brat, threats of impregnation

Word count: 2592 ( Long as hell I’m sorry😓)

Toji never saw himself as the settling down type, especially with the line of work he was in. Always on the go, how could he stop every five minutes to cater to some spoiled rotten brat who has just now been revealed to him not even two hours ago for the very first time at the altar?  What made him a little more complacent with the contract was that  his new little wife would have him set for life. He took your last name without a problem. Toji didn’t  give a shit that he was sold for a lowball price because in the end he still won and nothing was going to fuck it up for him. He watches while sprawled out on the bed as you went back and forth from the full body mirror that hung from the wall before going back to the bathroom. 

“They’re expecting you, the prodigal child, to mate with a non-sorcerer?” He scoffs a laugh, finding the whole marriage to be pointless if that were the case, “Don’t they know that may increase the chance of them not getting a sorcerer heir?” 

After a beat you finally respond to him while redoing your lip liner, “They can expect all they want, but unless they physically come in here and hold me down while you mount me like some fucking mutt in heat, they’re going to be expecting for a long while.” you had no problem challenging the elders of your clan and his clan, you knew you were the strongest and wouldn’t mind flexing your strength for them all to see. You had long since changed out of your wedding dress and into a darker dress with high slits on the sides that stopped at her waist, thin string laced criss cross into the material allowing the slits above her thigh to be mere windows for her bare hips, the dress a stark contrast from her wedding gown she had on mere hours ago. 

“You’re feistier than what I gave you credit for.” He chided before standing up somewhat curious as to why you  were taking so long to get ready for bed. Toji stopped dead in his tracks when she stood in the doorway of the bathroom,“You shouldn’t assume things about people, it'll screw you over in the long run.”     

He wasn’t sure where to look first and yet on the outside he refused to show too much of a reaction for someone of the likes of you, but the sight made his thoughts slowly start to shift. Folding his arms across his broad chest he tilts his head slightly as he continues to scan her body, “ Interesting outfit.” 

“Interesting enough to get some free drinks.”

“You’re gonna try to get other men to buy you drinks on our wedding night already?” Toji smirked, doing another once over his bride, his  eyes lingering on the shape of her breasts and how they nearly spilled over the top of her low cut neckline. 

“You really hate me that much, hm?” 

“I’m sure you hate me more.” 

“I do, actually.” He says without a hint of hesitation or doubt, his lips curled up before his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Toji felt a tinge of doubt when he saw the way your brows furrowed together in a glare, he wanted to wipe that defiant look off your face one way or another but he wanted to see how far he could push his bratty wife.

“Even if I hate you, it’s not a very good look. Imagine what the clans could say if they found out that their new bride is already seeking out other men to buy her drinks..” He stepped closer blocking you in the bathroom, “On her wedding night.” 

Your hand finds itself on his chest to maintain some semblance of space between you both, “Oh please spare me that bullshit…you’ve got an endless supply of money now that you are a part of my clan.” 

Toji’s eyes glance at your hand before they fix themselves back on you, “ That’s besides the point here. You’re my wife. You’ll make me look like a damned fool if  I let you leave this house.. Especially dressed like this.” 

“If you let me?” Your hand moves from his chest to fold both of your arms across your chest as you squint up at him, you’ve never needed permission to do whatever you wanted and you sure as hell weren’t going to start asking for it like some docile debutante, “ I don’t need anyone to let me do a goddamn thing.” 

Toji’s eyes darken before his arm reached out grabbing you by the waist and pulling you flush against his body. His chest rising and falling while his blood rushes rampantly through his veins, no woman has ever talked to him like that. He loathed the way her lips pursed as you waited for him to retort back meaning you already figured out what bratty thing you were going to say back to him. Your fucking mouth is infuriating to him and to make matters worse it was turning him on. 

“You should watch that fucking mouth, wife.” his free hand gripped her face forcing you to look up to him as his thumb traced her bottom lip causing it to part to partially reveal  the bottom row of your pretty teeth. Without any hesitation you bite down on his thumb then stomp on his foot. Toji hisses with a grimace from the pain for a brief moment as you slipped out of an opening and ran toward the door. Unfortunately for you, you weren’t too versed in running in heels and Toji had your wrist back in his grasp in no time. Using the opportunity of you losing your balance, he swings you to the bed like you weighed nothing. 

You flipped to your hands and knees scrambled on the blankets to put more space between yourself and your crazy ass husband, he grabs you by your ankle and drags you back to the edge of the bed on your stomach with a low growl. Panting softly you reach back and try to pull your dress back over your bare ass, but Toji snatches your hand away and pins it above your head. You could feel the weight dip into the bed between your thighs. Your eyes squeeze shut trying to keep focus on escaping and not how he handled you like you were a doll. 

Toji settles on his knees in the bed before flipping you onto your back, using that opportunity you attempt to kick him in his head and he of course catches your other ankle gripping one in each hand, “ You like pissing me off, don’t you?” he separates your legs in a ‘v’ moving close enough for your ass to rest on his lap, “ You think it’s funny to be a bad girl?” 

“Bad g-girl? Nngh— get the fuck off!” You squirmed more, reaching up for the pillows and throwing them at him. Toji’s eyes are drawn to your pussy almost immediately, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip softly.

“ Or what?”  

He leans in closer, his semi-hard cock resting against your glistening cunt, the motion allows him to smell your arousal and it took everything in his power not to roll his eyes back with a groan so he closes his eyes briefly. Toji’s eyes shot open wide when he felt the small warm splatter land on the corner of his lips and his cheek. 

“You little fucking brat,” His tongue darts out tasting you sweet saliva and he growls low snatching your face back into his hand in a bruising grip until your lips parted from each other before he spits in your mouth.  You cough when you unintentionally swallow while thrashing under him. 

“Are you going to be a good girl now?” 

“I fucking hate you!” 

Toji smirk returns and he leans closer, his body practically swallowing yours up, “I hate you more.” he moves his lips to your ear, “And yet, here we are. Married to each other.”  Shocked at how your body reacted to his voice in your ear, you snatch your head away.  He grabs your chin again forcing you to look back at him, “You still got some fight left in you after all and yet..that little body of yours is betraying you by soaking my cock through my pants.”  

Toji shifts and he presses his lower half against your core with a bit more pressure, “I wonder how long it’ll take to break you and be the sweet little wife I know you can be.”  

Your body nearly seized from the contact, “W-What are you doing?”

He smirks at the sound of her voice faltering, he rocks his hips once and chuckles at the way your body tenses from the motion, “What does it look like I’m doing, brat?”  your hips slightly buck against him making his already hardened cock throb, “You still haven’t apologized to me,”Toji moves his hips again in an agonizingly slow pace, “But your cunt is weeping for my forgiveness.” 

Your hips jump again, low whimpers bubble in your chest begging to be let free. He tilts his head slowly watching as your hips move desperately to his slow movements. Deeming it safe to move his hand from pinning your wrists down, he moves his hand to pull the neckline of your dress below your breasts. 

“Don’t you dare hide those fucking moans from me, brat.” Toji’s voice lowered into a growl before delivering a harsh warning slap to your breasts. You yelp and attempt to fix your glare up at him, “You don’t deserve them-” your voice cuts out almost immediately as he ruts harder against you, the head of his cock bumping against your clit. 

“You can say whatever that bratty little brain comes up with…it’s not going to change the fact that your body is begging for me to claim it.” 

“You’re del-delusional!” 

“Mhm, sure.” 

Toji rests your legs on either side of his shoulders and unbuttons his suit pants, lowering them just enough for his cock and balls to be free. The scene above you looked like something out of a wet dream. His disheveled hair, the open dress shirt that exposed his absolutely perfect chiseled body, and the piece of resistance was how your legs looked resting on his broad shoulders with his cock resting right against your needy clit. It felt a hell of a lot different when it was just through his pants…the mere heat between you both was nearly enough to cease any coherent thought you both had. 

“What’s it gonna be,brat?” 

You watch as Toji traces his cock along your wet folds, sucking in a breath you sink your teeth into your bottom lip and let out a quiet whimper bracing yourself. His lips curled into a knowing smirk as watched as you looked up at him expectantly. He wants nothing more than to just get up and leave you to your own devices, but he’d be lying if he said that his cock resting on your cute and drooling pussy wasn’t a sight he’d get on his knees and thank the gods for. Toji could call himself insane for even considering the fact, it’s just you are one of the few women who have managed to get completely under his skin. Why wouldn’t you listen to him? Why were you making it so difficult for both yourself and him? 

His cock throbbed against you, with a low growl he pinches your swollen clit which earned another yelp from you. 

“I don’t hear you begging, wife.” 

“T-Toji Toji!” your cries slurred as your vision blurred with tears, your clit throbbing with need.

“That’s not what I wanna hear and you know it, brat.” 

“Plea-” Toji didn’t give you a chance to utter the entire word before he’s impatiently sliding into your needy cunt with ease and bottoms  out into you with one move, “Ah- Fuck!” your words a pitch higher. The sudden intrusion and fullness in your lower belly  made you dizzy with euphoria. 

“Close enough, brat.” He chuckled, swallowing softly before clenching his jaw to have some semblance of control. The way your eyes rolled back in ecstasy wasn’t making it any easier for him. Toji leans forward until his hips kiss your plump ass and the tops of your thighs pressed against your tits, wanting to get a good view of your face before rolling his hips at a medium pace.

“Ohhhh my goooood!!” your voice vibrated and shook with each hard thrust.

“It looks like I’m earning those sounds aren’t I?” The smugness in his voice is ever so present as  his fingers dug into the  plushness of your thighs pushing your knees further into your chest allowing him to hit a deeper angle into your sobbing cunt. 

Your juices coat his thighs and your ass which only fueled his movements, the way your cunt squeezes around him earned you a low moan from his lips.  One hand goes to splay on your lower back bringing you up to meet his thrusts,  your arms loop around his neck, brushing your lips against his as a test.

Toji’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle, “ What is it that you want? Ask nicely and I’ll give it to you.” He lied, he knew deep down inside of him you could ask or even demand it from him and he’d give it to you. However, that didn’t mean he was going to go and admit it, yet. 

“Kiss—n-nggh–want a kiss.” You pant out against his lips.

“What happened to please, huh?” 

His complaint is silenced when he feels your tongue against his lips, making his pace falter for a moment.  

“Fucking hell…brat.” He groans quietly before slamming his lips against yours, sliding his tongue inside to fully claim your mouth while picking back up his pace. Your moans rang in his mouth and were absolute music to his ears. Feeling your cunt thrum in sync with your heartbeat, he could tell you were close and he knew he’d be soon after you. 

His hips pump faster into you all while bringing your hips to meet his, the feeling of your nails biting into his skin before dragging them down his chest. It was only fair to claim you in his own little way  as well. With one final hard thrust, his breath stutters feeling his release flood around the length of his cock. Your body shudders immediately reaching your own high from the warmth, his hips rock lazily into you. 

Toji pants softly with his face buried in your neck, almost in disbelief at how quickly he’d lost himself in his bratty little wife. Your head falls back taking a deep breath of cool air, he instinctively runs his tongue up your neck licking the thin sheen of your sweet sweat. 

“Are you done fighting me  or do I need to keep pumping this pretty cunt up until you’re round with my kid?” 

“You’re like a fucking super villain.” You hissed when he takes your nipple between his teeth.

“Damn right I am and you’re fucking bound to me. Til death do us part, sweetheart.” Toji says licking your nipple after releasing it with a laugh.

[player1064]

gary goes into business instead of broadcasting post-retirement. carra still goes into puditry. they don't know each other/end up as friends.

they both end up on the same season of I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and fall in love. this is highly apparent to the entire audience.

I've not done a request fic in like two months bc I've been so zoomed in on the beville fic but I wanted to write something quick and silly and yes this request has been sitting in my inbox for more than THREE months but dont worry i did not forget about it I haven't forgotten about ANY of u.

and this really is quick and silly it is Mostly dialogue bc idk how else to convey the Vibes of im a celebrity but I had soooooo much fun with this dkjfgdfjsgkk...

---

 “I’m Gary Neville, I’m a businessman but I’m probably best known for my football career, playing 602 games for Manchester United and earning 85 caps for England.”

“What am I doing in the jungle? Mid-life crisis, I suppose.”

“I’m no stranger to public humiliation – just look at my coachin’ career! My only worry is the food – I do love a dairy milk, to be fair.”

*

“I’m Jamie Carragher, and I’m best known as a football pundit with Sky – am I allowed to say other broadcaster’s names on here? – and for winning the Champions’ league with Liverpool.”

“I’ve always said the jungle is the only reality show I’d consider doin’, so I guess it’s time to put me money where me mouth is.”

“Scared? Eh, no, I don’t think there’s many challenges I wouldn’t do. You don’t get to where I’ve got without that drive to win.”

*

Jamie walks into camp, takes one look at the group of people stood in front of him, and almost considers walking straight back out. Would that work, saying the catch-phrase outside of one of the challenges? ‘I’m a celebrity, get me away from Gary fucking Neville?’

“Jesus Christ,” Gary mutters. “Don’t you ‘ave some children to spit at or somethin’?”

“Don’t you ‘ave a football team to coach – oh no, sorry, they both fired you.”

“How the fuck are they lettin’ you take three weeks off in the middle of season? What’re people gonna do when they want to listen to two hours of Scouse gibberish?”

The rest of the campers watch on, no longer even attempting to come and introduce themselves to Jamie.

“And how’s your club gonna manage without yous, eh? What if they need someone to fire another manager?”

*

“Yeah, I uh… is it mean to say I hope one of them gets voted off soon? Don’t get me wrong, they’re both perfectly nice guys, but…”

[yelling heard from outside the hut]

“…Yeah.”

*

The first pairs challenge, shockingly, goes off without a hitch.

This is not a surprise because the challenge was particularly difficult – it’s early days, they’re still easing everyone in – but because of who the public had voted to complete it. Because the public is the public, and they’re nothing if not predictable.

“All twelve stars! I’m pretty pleased w’that, you know.”

“Typical fucking Neville, taking the credit for his partner’s hard work.”

 “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t seem to recall you crawling about in the mud to get the –”

“—I was the one doin’ all the heavy lifting!”

“Of course you were doin’ the heavy lifting, look at the fuckin’ size of you!”

“Ugh.”

Jamie storms off camera and back into camp, leaving behind a bewildered looking Gary.

“He’s a bit of a diva, in’t he?”

*

“The first few days? Erm, it’s been goin’ alright, I think. I’ve been told I’m not always the easiest person to get on with, so it’s a pleasant relief that the others seem to – I mean, obviously not all of the others, but – but he’s –”

*

“Oh, I’m loving camp. Missing the gym a bit –” for emphasis, Jamie slaps his bicep – “but the food’s not as bad as I were expectin’, and the banter is sound – we’re all great friends already –”

“—well, no, but you can’t count him. He’s so weird, ‘ave you seen him? Like a little robot, doin’ everything exactly the same every day.”

*

“Another pairs challenge…”

“I don’t get why people keep voting for us to do these trials. You’re useless at ‘em anyway, do they want to see us starve?”

“Maybe I’d be able to get more done if you didn’t always insist on bossing me around, James. Can barely hear myself think over that Scouse screech of yours, it’s a wonder me eardrums haven’t burst yet.”

“It’s a wonder nobody’s killed themselves in the boredom of having to listen to you drone on and on all day. Did I actually hear you talkin’ about the stock market the other day?”

“The stock exchange, oh my god. It’s my hotel, which you’d know if you took part in any conversation that’s not about you.”

*

“I can’t believe they let you have that.”

Jamie looks with pride down at the football he’d chosen as his luxury item, then drops it and kicks it towards Gary’s head. It’s wide by about a metre.

“Oi! If you were a half decent footballer that could’ve actually hurt me, you twat.”

“’least mine can benefit everyone in camp, what even is yours?”

“Fidget toy, innit. My niece got me into them, gives me something to do with my hands.”

“You’re a strange little man, you know that right?”

Gary, who’s still positioned closest to the football, picks it up and lobs it into the trees surrounding camp.

*

“Come have a kickabout with me?”

Gary looks around but there’s nobody else sat nearby. “Me?”

“No, Cristiano Ronaldo. Of course you, who else would I be askin’?”

“Literally anyone else here?”

“It’s not as fun when you’re better than everyone else –”

“—ah, so you admit I’m a better footballer than you!”

“That’s not what I said!”

*

“What are you actually doin’ in here? ‘cause no offence, Gary, but you don’t really seem the reality show type.”

“Dunno. Was having a rough week when the email came through, thought it might be nice to get away from everythin’ for a bit.”

“’and you, Jameh?’” Jamie says in a squeaky parody of a Manc accent. “Oh, thanks fer askin’, Gaz. I was worried I was goin’ soft, now that I’ve been retired for so long. Wanted to prove to myself I can still be a winner.”

“Still? When were you ever a winner before?”

“I’ve won a Champions’ League, I’ll have you know!”

“I’ve won two!”

“Have you fuck.”

*

“Who’s your letter from, then? Missus?”

“No, my brother,” Gary says absently, then he looks up from his letter with a frown. “I don’t have a missus, what’re you on about?”

“Don’t you? I could’ve sworn, in Baden Baden with the WAGs –”

“You’re basing your knowledge of my relationship status on a tournament we played in more than fifteen years ago?”

“You realise you’re literally wearing a wedding ring.”

“And you’re not. Any other observations you’d like to make? Sky is blue, maybe?”

“Normally people wear wedding rings to show they’re married.”

“Maybe some people wear them to avoid annoying questions. Anyway, Philip says that I’m coming across very well so far and that ITV has received hundreds of complaints from people who can’t understand your accent.”

“He did not fucking write that, give it here –”

*

“Am I getting along better with Jamie? I dunno, I never had a problem with him to be fair, it’s him that’s always –”

*

“Friends? With Gary? Behave. Have we managed to go a single day so far without him shoutin’ at me for somethin’ I did, or somethin’ I didn’t do right, or for – for breathing in the wrong direction. Christ, I’ve never met anyone this fussy. He’s too easy to wind up.”

*

“He must be doin’ it on purpose, surely nobody is that thick – I mean, is it so hard to stack a couple of dishes when you’ve finished washing them?”

“Well, no, yeah, he did stack them, but did you see – they were all out of order, there’s no stability – they’re certain to all fall and break in the night thanks to him.”

*

All the effort that goes into the Dingo Dollars task and all the camp has to show for it is a single square of chocolate each. Gary nibbles carefully at his, trying to preserve it for as long as possible.

Jamie gets up and goes to sit beside him.

“Here.”

“Wha?”

“Here, I don’t like sweets.”

“You don’t – what kind of a psychopath don’t like sweets?”

“Will you just take the bloody chocolate before I change my mind.”

*

“You’re limping. Why are you limping?”

“Done my ankle in the last trial.”

“Trust you to get injured doin’ a trial. What’d you do, you slip or somethin’?”

“Why don’t you ask your mate, he’s the expert on slipping.”

“Ha ha. But really, Gary – you alright?”

“I’m fine, Carra, ‘s not even strained. Just a bit achy. Twenty years as a professional athlete will do that to you.”

“Give it here.”

“You what?”

“Give it here, I do an okay massage. Maybe that’ll stop yer whining.”

“I literally didn’t say a word until you brought it up.”

*

“I don’t know, he’s – ugh, he’s…”

“He’s not what I expected. I dunno. He’s just not what I expected.”

*

“D’you know how many times me and Gary played a full ninety together with England? One. We only ever played one full match on the same side, and it was shite.”

“It always felt like there was only room for one of us, so I just – I fucking hated him. ‘cause it wasn’t me the managers were picking, was it?”

*

“Carra?” Gary whispers

“What.”

“Carra, I can’t sleep.”

“Don’t give a fuck.”

“Jamie.”

Jamie reluctantly sits up in his camp bed, squints at Gary in the dark. “What.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You already said that.”

“I want to go for a walk, clear my head.”

“Good for you.” Jamie lies back down and pulls his sleeping bag over his face.

“Jamie.”

“I swear to God, Gaz…”

“Yer not gonna make me go out there alone, are ya? It’s the middle of the night.”

“What are you, twelve? Fine, just give me a minute to find my shoes.”

*

“It’s very dark, isn’t it?”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

They hadn’t ended up walking very far, just to the log benches in the next clearing over before agreeing the risk of tripping over tree roots was too high and sitting down to just talk instead.

“My internal clock’s all thrown off, we’ve been here nearly two weeks and I still can’t get the hang of it. At home to be fair I’m normally in bed by ten, half ten.”

“I remember, from England. You and Phil were such geeks, weren’t you?”

“Most capped brothers in England, thank you very much.”

“D’you miss him?”

“Nah. Don’t get to see ‘im much anyway, to be fair. He’s off in America, Trace is out here, they’re both just – getting on with it, aren’t they? I prob’ly miss my house more’n anything else.”

“Your house… not your friends? Not football?”

“I like my house! It’s got everythin’ just the way I like it.”

“Alright, alright. Fine, you can miss your house.”

“Wha’d’you miss? Your kids? The missus?”

“I dunno really… kids are both all grown up now, missus went back to being a ms a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“Is what it is. Anyway, I miss football even if you don’t, honest to God, what kind of a footballer are ya? I wish someone would slip me this week’s standings, feel like I’m going insane tryin’ to imagine all the results.”

“Should’ve said something sooner, twat. I can tell you how the league’s going.”

“You can?”

“Yes. Manchester United are on a – how many games’ve we missed now? – they’re on a three game winning streak and have shot to the top of the league.”

“Oh yeah? What about Liverpool?”

Gary tuts and shakes his head. “Relegation zone, I’m afraid.”

“We were top of the table when I came in ‘ere!”

“Well, you know what they say – anything can happen in football, can’t it?”

“You’re right, what’s that… I’m getting reports from Old Trafford that Salah’s just scored a hat-trick, Stretford end as well –”

“You twat! As if your Liverpool could win away against United, you’re dreaming!”

*

“Erm, yeah… it’s good to be going home, ‘course it is. Glad I wasn’t the first voted out, hah, I actually think I’ve done alright in ‘ere.”

“Yeah, no, it’s been a brilliant experience to be fair. I never thought I’d make such good friends – yeah, even him. I know, I’m as surprised as you are! Anyway, I’m wishin’ them all the very best of luck in the semi-finals.”

 *

“I mean, I know fourth place isn’t bad, but I do think I deserved to get to the finals. I’ve worked harder than anyone else here, so –”

“Well yeah, ‘course, it’s up to the public, so – if it’s my time then it’s my time.”

“What’ll I be doin’ when I get to the hotel? Dunno. Check my messages first, probably!”

“What, Gary? I saw ‘im yesterday, it’s not like I’m missin’ him already! Might get ‘im to buy me a pint, though, least he could do after I had to put up with him for three weeks.”

[therealbeachfox]

"So Outlaws should’ve been doomed from the start, and almost was. The thing that saved it though, strangely enough, was that fucking décor.

For those of you who never set foot inside one while they still existed (and good on you, you are truly wise) and don’t want to sit down with any of those old YouTube “Live Commentary of my Outlaws Trip Experience” videos (also good on you. No one has enough life-span to be wasting any of it on crap like that), it can be hard to describe. You had your cow skulls painted with American flags and wearing giant rhinestoned purple cowboy hats. You had guitars with red and black lightning bolts and flashing LEDs hidden inside. You had railroad crossing signs covered with barbed wire, shotguns with screaming eagles painted across the barrels in gold paint, and on and on and on.

Just… Truly godawful shit.

But this was Gotham, and that décor did not last long. I mean, around here most restaurants know better than to cover their walls with easily snaggable crap like that. It’s just free shit as far as most of the late-night customers are going to be concerned, especially when your business model is so heavily focused on the 20-somethings and teenagers with good fake IDs demographics like Outlaws was.

But this was Gotham, so we didn’t just steal all that shit, oh no. See, here’s what the rest of you don’t get about Gotham. It’s not that we’re all a bunch of amoral murderous criminals. Sure, our per-capita rate of those is truly unsettling compared to the rest of the country, but they’re still very much the minority. No, what makes a Gothamite truly a Gothamite is the utter gleeful perversity we take whenever we’re gonna be a shit. It can manifest in all sorts of ways (Just look at our own Bruce Wayne, who manifests his as pure ‘fuck the rich’ energy, setting his money on fire, pratfalling into fountains, and then grinning at all the other rich-people who have to put up with his bullshit because despite it all he’s still way richer than they’ll ever be.), but very often it manifests in not doing crime in a straight-forward manner, but insisting on being a little fucking bitch about it.

So people didn’t just steal that gaudy bullshit wall art; they replaced it.

The cow-skulls got switched out for manikin heads, still wearing the same gaudy cowboy hats. Then the hats were exchanged for headwear that was even weirder. Railroad signs were taken away, even with the barbed wire, and for awhile the walls were plastered with “Warning! Live Mines!” signage left over from No-Man’s. That terrible LED-illuminated lightning guitar was replaced with a full-ass gargoyle someone managed to pry off one of the smaller spires of St. Marie’s, and I really fucking wish I could claim credit for that one, but I have no idea who did it much less -how-. "

(494 words from chapter one of TCAKMJT) I would love to know about how you came up with the idea of Outlaws, because I (non-american) had to actually search up if it existed or not!

Hoo boy! Going from 0 to 60 right out the gate on this one!

*deep breath*

Outlaws (the restaurant) is what happens when I'm allowed to let an idea peculate for the better part of a year in the back of my head.

While I was in the process of pulling together Conrad the Crime Alley Kid from the various in-character comments I'd made on TaxiCabToSlowtown's "Am I the Bathole" series, TaxiCab was busy making their own version of the (at the time) nameless not-hench, which turned into How to Get (a) Partner(s) Through Reddit. In it, the big mask-off reveal that Red Hood was Jason Todd was made in the back alley behind a nameless East End bar with Starfire and Arsenal in attendance, and just as with Jason's screen name being TheFredHood, I knew I had to borrow/steal/homage that for my own version as well.

When I got to that point.

*Spongebob voice* 11 months later.

So during all the time I was working on the earlier stories, I had this scene churning away in the back of my head. The first thing I -knew- I had to do was name the bar they met at Outlaws. Because I strongly feel like Jason and pals would be unable to resist grabbing 1 AM burgers and beer while plotting out their next technically-not-a-crime-spree from a place called -Outlaws-.

However, Outlaws lead my mind to Outlaw Country music and all of its assorted motifs and flair, and I floundered around on how to reconcile my version of Red Hood voluntarily eating at a place like that. But that was fine, I had a bunch of other shit to write ahead of figuring out how to handle that.

A bit into all this, I came across the Skrunkfest post series, and my brain promptly shoved it into the Outlaws box and went "Eh? Eh??" at me while waggling its eyebrows, but it still wasn't jelling.

A bit after -that-... I can't remember a specific post or image or thing I read triggering it, but that doesn't mean there wasn't one, but I had the sudden mental image of a western-cyberpunk bar with the fog-machine ambiance and weird lighting, and walls covered with Batman villain gear with green and purple fairy lights strung through them, and just a total Skrunkfest style vibe as you got served at a grungy funky bar with a cracked Red Hood helmet mounted between one of Harley's hammers and a razor-wire wrapped "No Man's Land - Landmine Warning" signpost. And went "Okay. Something like -that-."

So by the time I sat down to start writing that story for reals, I had the mental image of "Outlaws: A kitchzy Western/Outlaw Country restaurant/bar turned Gotham Skrunk/Villain den." and began writing it based around that concept sketch.

Small digression: I usually write my stuff multiple times. I write the chapter, get out everything I feel needs to be in there. Then I put that to the side of the screen, and start writing it again from scratch. Now that I'm not coming up with the ideas fresh, I can write them... smoother? More detailed and more comfortable. Taking a sander and sculpting knife to it all. I honestly usually repeat this process two or three times before moving onto reworking stuff within the document instead of making a new one.

All that to say, the first... three? versions of the chapter still weren't working for me. Then I remembered: Oh wait, I don't need to have Conrad give a mental description of the place as he walks through the door, I have social media posts!

And it was while rewriting that whole section as Conrad's online review-slash-teardown that the full Outlaws experience jelled into being.

Outlaws, pre-Gothamization, is everything about American chain restaurants I hate. And everything I hate about the 2000's faux patriotismgasim that overtook and consumed Country music then swaggered around in it's skinned hide.

On the restaurant front, I started with the "Stick everything on the walls" philosophy you get out of Cracker Barrel or *deep sigh* Red Robin. I don't know how common this... concept is outside of the USA, but it's basically taking the contents of some barn's storage shed and just nailing it all to the walls. "Crazy Crap on the Wall decor", pastiche americana, faux Americana, "like a telekinetic went crazy at a flea market", there's no common name for it.

Basically, taking that concept, and blending it with all the insane-ass "We're calling ourselves Outlaw Country, but we've got million dollar budgets for this show tour" stuff I've seen over the years, shoving in the weird over-abundance of sauces that all taste different variations of sickly sweet you get out of places like Buffalo Wild Wings, and just everything that comes from the "A bunch of venture capitalists with too much money decide to just brute force a new dining institution by opening 80 branches all at once and money-bombing an advertising spree across every form of media at once" phenomenon.

So that left me with the original Outlaws, and I knew what I wanted the final results to look like. Then once I was writing Conrad writing about it all, the exact progression of how the former became the latter finally came together.

Ta-Dah!

Honestly, the Outlaws restaurant has one of the highest number of contributing concepts out of anything I've come up with so far. Which, again, is what happens when you get an entire year to just let something brew in the back of your head.

And I'm glad that it felt real enough to have to google because there are honestly so many places like this. I just sort of smooshed them all together and bumped the dials to max because comics!

[xxtha-blog]

Accidentverse/Admixverse Update

As someone who worked on Accidentverse/Admixverse as one of the character designers once the first team member left, and as friends of one of the creators, it genuinely upsets me to find out the creator who left years ago seems to think its appropriate to ‘share the characters with the community’ and create ‘official redesigns’ and let people solely credit him with the AU/AM. He has me blocked so I only found out just now, but the Au was not abandoned and the AU did not belong solely to them (They also recognize this but I will explain why I think they’re overstepping their level of ownership here). They were given ownership of Silence and departed from the complete rebranding over 3 years ago. To come back, say you’re taking over, and go ‘actually I’m giving the characters back to the community’ is disrespectful regardless of personal grievances. The AU is not owned solely by them and have no right to say what can and can’t be done with it simply because the other creators aren’t present anymore. While one creator genuinely has left as far as I know (though he still made Vanta??), and I’ve cut contact with them, the other has made no public statement as to whether they want the Au to continue or have any intentions of giving it to the community or someone else and that’s a decision that should be respected.

I’m all for the story continuing. I don’t care if the story is continued by said old creator. But to say “ I know all too well that I alone won’t be able to the story justice, and I want to be different from AV’s previous owners: who simply locked their AU away in their need for perfectionism and didn’t allow for anyone to use the characters, which was eventually what killed Admixverse entirely.” and “I’m allowing anyone within the community full permission to use Vanta and Silence (and any other future characters) in their own works– whether it’s for roleplay or including them in their own projects.“ is disrespectful, and also untrue.

1. That was not why the AU was ‘abandoned’. I’ve never once heard my friend (creator) say they strive for perfection with it. This is made up nonsense.

2., there has been no indication what the main owner wants to do with it as they’re taking a break. If they abandoned it, that is fine. That still does not mean Drye can make the rules for the characters multiple people have ownership of.

3. Vanta. Is not. Drye’s character. I get that the original owner had fucked up things come to light, but co-opting his character as your own, as though you have ownership of it, isn’t how things work. You can’t just take someone else’s character and decide what to do with it. Silence? Fine. They were given permission to take him and go, but Vanta never was their character and quite frankly I’m not sure taking ownership of the character of a groomer is a great hill to die on.

4. When a project is owned by multiple people like this, and especially when one of those members officially departs from the team and relinquishes the AU to the other members, to come back suddenly going ‘actually I’m a creator of the original and since I haven’t seen the other creators in a while, it’s mine to give back to the community now.’ is kind of messed up.

Again, I’m perfectly fine with the story being continued! If he wants to continue the story, that is fine. I also recognize he is not literally saying he 100% owns the AU, but he is ‘trying to give the community more ownership of the AU’, an AU he left years ago, of which people still own and multiple of my friends have worked on and have designs for. He just fundamentally cannot make that call. If he wants to redesign the AU, either say it’s your own version and rename it, or keep the old version and say credit when using the characters still goes to the @admixverse-official blog, not yourself. The blog still exists despite what they say! To say what I highlighted in italics solely because one creator isn’t producing content anymore is nonsense. Drye does not own Admixverse. He worked on it. There was a fallout. He left. The AU was completely revamped under the Admixverse name, a name which he NEVER worked under, a name which me and my friends helped come up with, yet has decided to also use. He refused to let Silence and his art be used, which was respected despite it being a collabaration when the fall out happened, yet now it’s theirs to officially bring back without any permission or agreement? He is overstepping a general decency for other creators here, and despite having me blocked, as a fellow team member to the project who also owns some of the designs (though he’s not using them even though they are the current official ones), that’s extremely frustrating to hear. Why don’t I also own Admixverse now? I didn’t leave the team, I redesigned its main character less than a year ago! But I think we can all agree it’d be pretty silly for me to pretend I have any rights to give anything about the AU to the community solely because I made designs and generated ideas for it. I am simply a member of the team who also worked on the project (only I never left lol). Anyways, tl;dr, I’m perfectly fine with the AU being considered or redesigned in Drye’s vision, but it needs to be done in a way respectful to the official Admixverse that was continued years after he left, and its original creators. This means either actually talking to the original creator to get permission, properly crediting, stating this is a new version and not the ‘Official redesigns′ and not making up stuff about the old creator’s motivations for not working on the project, because shockingly, abandoning a project does not mean its fair game now.

[joyswonderland1108]

🙃

I know i said that my biases are Jimin and JK but i never said i wasn’t a big fan of 3J which means that if Hobi is being disrespected imma snap your head in half!

Every time i come here to talk about something nice there’s a whole mess going on that at this point my blog is turning to a rant blog ffs. When did this fandom become like this? When did the toxicity became huge to the point where you can’t go a day without something disgusting being spread online? 

So by now everybody knows that Hybe posted an announcement about Hobi’s upcoming enlistment that he started the procedure already, we saw that coming but it’s still upsetting of course, we still felt sad knowing how real it’s becoming that Hobi is leaving for MS too. So we’re trying to come to terms with it and another announcement only this time it’s a happier one:

We were also able to see our Sunshine live 

(Credits to Dalto on Twitter)

Now i believe you see where this is going right? So Hope on the street is a single set to be released on March 3rd, key word here : SINGLE. One song. But of course dickheads have a thing to say right? Saying how he is interfering with Jimin’s solo if he couldn’t release it before why choose now bla bla bla rat language.

I’ve mentioned in my previous post that even one song can take a while let alone many, some artists spent 2 3 years on one song, it’s called perfectioning it, working on every possible flaw so that the end result is something that lets the artist feel satisfied with the hard work he put in it. So to answer the “why didn’t he release it before?” simply because he couldn’t “why won’t he release it later?” simply because he can’t. 

Now saying that he’s interfering with Jimin’s solo.. There are 20 days between March 3rd and March 24th (not including both dates) and again am going back to the key word, it’s a SINGLE it’s only one song how tf is that interfering with Jimin’s solo? There’s enough time to give attention to Hope on the street and also be ready for FACE.

It’s actually funny to see people try to make it a competition between none other than Jihope like.. Be so fr right fucking now! It’s not like y’all are legally blind to not notice how close those two are, they’re besties, and more than anything they are happy for each other so for a bunch of low-life strangers trying to put their 2 useless cents of thoughts on the matter.. y’all just shut the fuck up

Now if Hobi just decided to enlist without dropping anything, people would be saying how he’s not appreciating Army he just left like that or why did he wait all that time to enlist if he doesn’t have more work to do or or or.. Of course there’s always something to complain about, this fandom is never satisfied and would you look at that, the boys still think about this stupid fandom and dedicate their work to them. 

Honestly there should be a whole separate new fandom for our boys, a private one that is, Vip or whatever you wanna call it, like you can’t get into that fandom unless you pass the morals test, the personality test, etc.. Army be fighting with that other fandom (not mentioning the name but y’all already know who, no hate to the girlies they’re cool, can’t say the same thing about their fandom tho) when they’re no better, creating shit INSIDE the fandom to begin with. 

It’s seriously getting tiring and sickening how people were just allowed to become this hateful, it’s like they forget that they got into this fandom that was started because of BTS like.. THE WHOLE BAND! Yes these 7 men are all different and unique but they’re also part of the same band whether you like it or not and if they wanted to go solo like many of y’all are dying for it to happen they would’ve done it a while ago it’s not the first time idols leave their band to go on a solo journey. If y’all have no respect for these boys as a band at least have respect towards your favs and what they want, what they wish for and the people they love. 

[twilightknight17]

The Promised Day - Part 3

Man, I left this for a while. God. Too much to do, too little time, and work is fucking exhausting. But let’s talk about the ending, finally.

Where last we stood, the Great Seal was cast, and everything faded to white.

Probably the closest any of you will ever get to seeing the Sea of Souls.

It’s crushing, how upset they are that everyone made it but one person. Honestly, I get the sense that any number of casualties would have been too much. This was an all-or-nothing fight. It was supposed to be that everyone goes home, or no one does.

But no, the one person they lost was their leader. In the end, there was nothing they could do.

…….it’s not the Sea of Souls, it’s the Universe. Oh god. Of course he can hear them.

Stop talking like you and Nyx are the same. T_T You’re not!

He does sound proud of them, though.

SEES is returned to the front of the school, Tartarus dissolves into light, and Minato walks out of the now-normal building so that everyone can hug him and cry all over him. If I didn’t know how this ends, I’d be really mad about ten minutes from now.

I do like that, after the timeskip, this version of the ending starts the exact same way as the other one, since they still don’t have their memories in this version.

Man oh man am I popular, though. This isn’t even all my social links, and look how many people want to talk to me!

It’s morbidly hilarious that this game literally started the trend of “walk around and talk to everyone the day before the ending”, but Minato’s the only modern protag who wasn’t going to leave. Not by choice, anyway.

You and your girlfriend can’t both have amnesia, my guy. Get it together.

We find out that Kenji is excited because apparently there are going to be three new teachers next year, and they’re all hot. So he has learned nothing. Lots of social links sent letters, because the end of their link was literally them leaving town.

(Minato wasn’t going to leave, everyone else was. Inverse Persona ending. X’’’D)

The Gourmet King is gone (no tears here). Maiko’s dad says she’s doing well but also says I’m absolutely not allowed to marry her. We’re able to give Akinari’s mom the notebook with his story in it. Mamoru and Kaz are doing fine. Bebe, tragically, has decided not to come back to Japan right away. He’s gonna stay with his uncle for a while so they can grieve his aunt together.

Ms. Toriumi is taking the accidental revelation that I’m her MMO buddy very well.

God I laughed so hard.

All the cats I saved from Tartarus are vibing in the back alley!

I think I saved eight total? I wonder if there’s more. Secret cat ending. Fill the whole alley.

And…

...can I listen to my music box now? Please. T_T

As Mitsuru makes her graduation speech, SEES starts to remember, and rushes for the roof, where Aigis and Minato are already skipping the ceremony.

That’s a long time.

I ended up dating Aigis just because I actually maxed her link, and I think the only other girl I maxed was Yuko? Maybe? And Maya, but that wasn’t a romance option, which I still think is weird.

So, the credits. They, uh, didn’t have to do that. Like, it’s brilliant. Having his silhouette sinking deeper and deeper and gradually fading away to represent him doing the same. He vanishes completely and only then does it end, and we get to see SEES reach the roof just barely too late. Beautifully done, Atlus, I started tearing up, how dare you. X’D

And then the main menu is no longer the Dark Hour.

So, overall, other than some nitpicks, I think this was a really solid game. But as a modern remake of a preexisting game, I think they could have gone further. Why NOT just make your male teammates possible social links? Why NOT include Hamuko? Why NOT include The Answer with the base game? Why lie and say you want the “core” (read: original base game) P3 experience, but then add new things?

Why make Ryoji tell you he wants to be more than friends and then not give you a third dialogue option?!?!?

(I know the answer is money. It’s always money. I am just salty.)

But I could forgive more of that if they hadn’t nerfed the final boss. I did some googling, and pinpointed some other things about the Nyx Avatar fight that didn’t line up. Before, he could attack twice per turn. This one can’t. They gave the Death Arcana an extra thousand health, but the old version automatically took half-damage from EVERYTHING except almighty. They took away Moonless Gown, and therefore took away his ability to become invulnerable. Apocalypse can reduce your HP to 1%, but if he’s not attacking twice per turn, someone always has time to heal, so who even cares?

(Shoutout to the Fandom wiki for being like, “It is strongly encouraged to heal when it uses this skill”. No shit, guys. Wow.)

And yeah, they buffed his spells up a level, but ultimately, all the things that might have actually made the boss genuinely hard got nerfed.

It kind of sucks. They gave him a cool new color scheme for the final arcana and then weakened him. Why even.

Anyway, gonna do NG+ on hard mode to finish all social links and the compendium, and also probably going to do something really stupid like solo the Avatar with my level 99 Minato and Thanatos just for giggles.

Because hell yeah. :D

[wumiings]

Okay but what if Merlin had openly used his magic in 1x10??? That would have been so great actually because like. The others in his village have always been so wary of him both because he’s a bastard and because they suspect he has magic, so for him to turn up and deliberately use the very gifts they shunned him for to save them would absolutely shake up their mindsets a bit. Now instead of a Heroic Prince (from a different kingdom) swooping in and saving the day, proving that royals can be Good Actually, it’s reinforcing the idea of magic as the great equalizer — something that allows common folk to look after themselves and grow less reliant on monarchy.

Let’s say Arthur is still There (though a version of this where he doesn’t come along also works). Merlin is initially hesitant about using magic in front of him, but after his talk with Will, he’s resolved to not hold himself back on Arthur’s account. Will still gets injured; Merlin heals him and explicitly takes credit for the sorcery. When Arthur get pissed about it, Merlin reminds him that they’re in Cenred’s kingdom and Arthur doesn’t have the authority to execute him (since he technically has no proof that Merlin used magic in Camelot). In the end, Arthur banishes Merlin from Camelot but makes no other move to harm him.

So now Merlin is free. He has his family, a community that’s more welcoming than its ever been before, a book of spells to study (and potentially teach others), and nearly a year’s worth of wild stories about what the fuck goes on in Camelot. Gwen and Morgana both know where he is and can send letters/come visit if they want, which also means that when Morgana’s powers starts manifesting, she knows at least one person she can reach out to for support who isn’t affiliated with the Pendragon regime.

Maybe he travels. Maybe he seeks out the druids for more education on magic and/or the prophecies. Maybe he tracks down Lancelot, or runs into some of the other errant knights (Gwaine, Elyan, etc). Maybe he meets and frees Freya, or finally gets some answers about his heritage and tracks down Balinor. Literally any of the above are on the table.

Eventually, Uther dies. (Actually, it probably doesn’t take that long. He would die like two episodes later.) Arthur is king— untested and vulnerable and far too young, but with so much potential if he can just survive long enough. And at some point, there is some magical attack on the citadel because of course there is, and Gaius once again tells his king that the threat can only be defeated with magic. And after all else fails (because there’s no one to secretly solve the problem with magic and let everyone think it just resolved itself somehow) and all hope is nearly lost, Arthur gives in and reaches out to the one (1) sorcerer he knows who may actually be willing to help him, if only for the sake of his other friends in the city.

Naturally, Merlin agrees, but he outright refuses to keep his involvement a secret. The people of Camelot are going to know that it was a warlock who saved them, not the renowned Knights of Camelot. They’re going to have to think about what that means regarding everything they’ve been taught to believe about magic. And, of course, they’re also going to know that Arthur was not too proud to turn to sorcery if it meant protecting his people, even though it calls into question his father’s legacy of magical persecution.

The Golden Age is built on the open negotiation and collaboration of magic and non-magic, not to mention nobility and peasantry. And the “union” of Albion isn’t about conquest but rather strong alliances built between nations as the benefits of maintaining a healthy relationship with magic become obvious to more and more people.

Yes, one day Arthur will die and be laid to rest in Avalon to await an age when his strength and wisdom is once again required. Yes, Merlin will live through the centuries, traveling and learning and watching humanity grow, assisting wherever he can instead of endlessly grieving and waiting for Arthur’s return. For now, though, they can all just take life one challenge at a time.

[whentherewerebicycles]

SORRY i have to do dear diary: work problems edition under the cut again

so on monday i volunteered to do this small project with the HR team to wrap up a massive project i’d led earlier (although of course it was one that my lead took over in the last 2% of work and now claims as her own achievement). got the go-ahead from my boss & my lead was copied on all the emails. so i set up meetings with the team today and tomorrow, circulated an agenda, and created a structure for us to use in brainstorming content. my lead was CC’d on all of this because i’m not allowed to email people without her knowing. then this morning she messaged to ask me to change the time of my meeting because she wanted to meet with the HR lead about something earlier in the day. so i was like ok whatever! annoying that you couldn’t find some other time and had to take this time but fine! i moved the meeting, sent out a note to the HR team, and don’t really think anything of it.

but THEN we just had our weekly meeting with our boss, and at this meeting ashley announced that she had met with the HR team this morning, gotten all the material needed the project, and would complete everything by the end of the day. i was just sitting there like “...i’m sorry?” and finally interrupted her to be like “so what should i do with them in the meeting?” and she was like “well you don’t really need to have it now. but you could just sit on the call with them and have them upload these three forms i need and email them to me if you want.” i just sat there gaping at her because what the ACTUAL fuck???? like you already block me from taking on projects and take credit for the projects i DO do and now you’ve escalated to stealing projects I’d claimed & completing them before i can finish them & then telling me that in front of my boss so it looks like either you didn’t trust me to do it myself or i was failing in some way and you had to pick up the slack? and also you make me look stupid in front of the HR team by scheduling your own private meetings with them and not telling me so i’m still communicating with them like i’m coordinating the project? like WHAT is this woman’s deal??? jesus christ!!!!

i have a meeting with her later (which she rescheduled earlier one minute before it was supposed to start without telling me) and i’m trying to decide if i bring it up with her to be like “that really fucking bothered me” in more professional language, or if i just let it go and use it as further fuel to get out of here. i feel like i keep letting things go because they’re annoying/insulting but they’re also just “oh i can explain...” enough that i feel dumb bringing them up because there’s that tiny voice in my head that’s like ‘did you miss something? did YOU fuck up? is someone mad at you? did your boss say yes to your face and then go over your head to tell your lead to do the project for you?’ which just makes me feel all uncomfortable and lowkey anxious even though i’m like if i DID fuck up recently somehow (how could i have fucked up?? i’ve been out for three weeks!!!! i literally have not had opportunity to fuck up!!!) and my boss handled it that way instead of addressing it with me, that’s just terrible management and should not be something i internalize. but AGH the fucking MIND GAMES in this team and just all! the! tiny! ways! my lead undermines me or tries to make me doubt myself. and THEN i have no idea if she’s doing it intentionally or if she’s just kinda shitty at supervising people or at communicating clearly (which is funny because she talks all the time about how she’s such a ~relator~ whose biggest skill is building relationships and communicating with people). idk man it just makes me feel bad and then it feels even worse to stew in the negative feelings all day. like i don’t actually ENJOY complaining i would much rather just have a job where i get to work hard alongside people i generally like and respect and all of my dear diary posts are about how rewarding i find my work or whatever!!! blehhhh okay gotta go do a quick lap around the house before i can face her in 5 minutes. 

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 7.8

Because Avery and Lucy were good at doing.  Verona was good at the practice but not so good at the hairy situations.

At some point the three of them need to talk about how they all feel like they're each letting the other two down

Avery looked so wounded, somehow.  Because of Laila?

that and being literally kicked aside

The feelings rolled over Verona and she wasn’t really equipped for it. She thought of her dad and how she’d left him.

I guess this is the flipside of how Avery commented that experiencing Verona's memories feels muted.

If she’d taken another path- if she’d stayed home, bit her tongue, got her dad that frigging flat ginger ale, changed the sheets, and let her friends go back, maybe let them go back without her, she could have helped out more at the perimeter. 

Verona is really beaten down here. I get why she's fixating on how she could have stayed in Kennet and been dutiful instead of chasing what she loves, but I think being stuck at home, in a place she feels she can barely breathe, hearing secondhand about everything Avery and Lucy were learning, would hurt her worse. Not to mention how she'd feel knowing they were in danger and stuck far away.

And because everything's gone so badly now, she's not giving herself credit for how much her skill with the practice has been useful in setting up basically every ritual and diagram they've made.

He was going to fight them and it would be disastrous.

Toadswallow... he really is a good teacher

If you want a laugh or you want to be sadistic?  He’ll be way more fun to go after than I will.  I just shut down, guys.

"My trauma responses make me uninteresting to torture" is such a fucked up defense. Like, good on Verona for finding a use for everything, but man that's bleak

“I thought the brownies would carry you off, Miss Hayward,” Bristow said, as a brownie crawled up to his shoulder.  It hissed.  “And you made a challenge.”

welp, him knowing about it makes things considerably harder. I'm not sure what they can do, particularly if he knows he just has to wait Verona out for a few hours. I think at this point it might really be depending on Avery

“She’s not a real member of the family, she’s not privy to our methods, and, funnily enough, I wouldn’t make her wear that thing.”

wow, Musser is managing to be a dick to literally everybody

“This kind of knowledge doesn’t come with the package, or with the clarification as they refine their Self, as if they were taking progressively smaller chunks of clay out of their raw Self, to create more detail,” Musser said.  “He’s either killed practitioners, or he’s seen others of his kind get bound.”

... or someone told him?

Everyone else is too complacent, too selfish, too wrapped up in what they’re doing.

... and Bristow isn't too selfish?

I have to ask, if you knew to the point of certainty that the well being of the world hinged on working with a man like him, would you? 

very Taylor Hebert of you there

He’s good at heart

doubt!

It will take time and education and meeting the right people to get him to a better balance. Losing the right people, even.

... I am reluctantly forced to acknowledge that it sounds like Ted might be speaking from experience here, of knowing Bristow in another timeline

“We need a tyrant for a moment, and he has it in him to be a true hero. I know this in a way I couldn’t possibly convey to you.”

yeah. Blech!

A music box played a full concert in plonky, artificial instrument sounds.  America hummed tunelessly along.

oh upside! If they're in the new building with America, that means the goblins (and maybe Avery, Zed, and Jessica?) have a way in.

The nine-ish minute intervals allowed her to keep track of the passage of time.

2.5 hours, more or less. Barely an hour to go until the deadline

“If I got two hours to watch TV, it meant two hours, and if I went a second over, then I’d have the same two hours with the music box, which usually meant a cold dinner, after.”

:(

“And my mom is not horrible. I have a roof over my head, food, education, practice, and opportunities, thank you,” Talia said. The reply sounded automatic.

:( :( :(

Hadley reached over her head, sticking out a finger, and poked Estrella in the side. Estrella didn’t react. “Tickle tickle.” Estrella swung her hand down, lightning-fast, for a full-faced slap on Hadley’s face. Hadley shifted feet around and sat up, looking at Estrella, bewildered.

unfortunately these antagonists are fun. Gore-strewn violent girl who always seems to be moving and fae practitioner who specializes in those who have gone static is a nice combo. Also, the fact that Estrella's family was killed by witch hunters and Hadley spends her free time hunting them... could be a point of connection.

“The dead can be touched as necessary.  But it should be respectful and mindful, not just of the quality of any materials, but of the sentiment for the dead.  One day we shall be dead and we should be so lucky as to be made useful after, and treated with respect in the process.”

very harrowhark-core

A knife, black as night, almost invisible against the dark blue sky, except for the fact it was glossy.

oni knife throwing!

Kind of played off of ideas like how if a superhero on TV had a forcefield that let light and sound through, it shouldn’t protect against sonic or light based attacks.

you can take the wildbow out of the capefic, but can't take the capefic out of the wildbow

A sharp stomp of one high-heeled shoe crippled the goblin on the floor. “Again!” it cried out, voice high. “Again, please!”

lol

The goblins charged the table.  Dolls intervened, the goblins bowled through the first dolls, started to pick themselves up, and headed for the table again.  Estrella had to tackle them to protect the music box, and in the process, they wrapped Bristow’s underwear around her face.

I like how goblins keep turning these fights into slapstick

America kept going.  So Verona did too, one eye wincing.  If Lucy got hit, she’d- she didn’t know what she’d do. But it wasn’t pretty.

Torn between liking how Verona panics at Lucy potentially getting hurt, and disliking Lucy potentially getting hurt

Verona’s hand changed. One large cat’s paw, very nice, and cats paws had claws, and claws could cut binding. Or maybe not, but she was riding a high and buying her own bullcrap and it worked. The claws cut through the cordage.

catgirl mode!

“I leave, I’ll only protect myself, nothing aggressive unless I must, and I’ll avoid seeking out circumstances that force my hand.  I’ll get my younger brother and we’ll step down from any fighting for the time being.  I so swear.”

Oh this is a good angle to pursue. A lot of Bristow's allies seem to have defaulted into it, if they can convince them to act neutral that's a big improvement. And I'm all for arguing for clemency if/when Alexander regains power.

“And I want to stab you in the boob.  Sorry hon.  That’s my condition.” “You could stab me in the leg to make it even.” “I don’t want to make it even. I want to stab you in the boob.”

broadening my "goblins keep making fights funny" statement to include goblin practitioners

Verona saw Avery come running. She braced for the incoming hug better than Lucy did.

:)

Zed, wearing his power glove, gave it a tap.  The battery icon flashed on and then went to full.

incredibly useful bit of practice

She’d let Bristow do his thing and gainsay her.  Hoping to hear some key words. Or rather, to use the apps that she’d bookmarked after trying to open lines of communication with Tashlit. One of them was speech to text and text to speech.

oh fuck yeah! I mean, I'm worried this might be similar to the brownie trick that backfired earlier, but good planning

“Or are your words true, and you’re pleased at this final outcome that you got with the help of the staff?  You, grateful to the brownies, with all the implicit danger that comes with that expressed pleasure and happiness?”

hahahaha get fucked

“This is my first of three challenges put forward to you, regarding our back and forth,” she told him.  She hung up and ended the message.

*mic drop*

[adultswim2021]

The Venture Bros. #36: “Tears of a Sea Cow” | July 20, 2008 - 11:30PM | S03E08

The Monarch isn’t allowed to arch Dr. Venture anymore, and this episode is about him defying the bonds of his Guild affiliation and going over to the Venture compound to fuck it up with Hench people 21 and 24. They decide to do this because Dr. Venture and Brock are out of town.

What they don't know is that Hank and Dean are left home alone (or maybe they do! I didn’t do a good enough job listening to all the dialogue!). Hank has his no-goodnik friend Dermot over and we see the first inklings of their band, Shallow Gravy (they haven’t arrived at the name yet, though). They also go camping in the yard and have a run-in with Henchman 21, who tells Hank that he’s an immortal, since he’s personally seen (and at least once caused) his death multiple times. He shoots Hank with what he assumes is a fatal dart, but turns out to be a tranq, causing Hank to believe he actually is a Highlander. 

Meanwhile, the Monarch breaks into Dr. Venture’s lab and messes some stuff up, including GUARDO, who we saw in Home Insecurity. The Monarch spitefully makes love to the ailing robot and Dean walks in and catches him. The Monarch psyches him out by pretending that he’s playing some game to get Dean to betray his own good nature by tattling on him. Eventually Dr. Girlfriend gets him out of there before anyone’s the wiser. Those are basically what make up the main story beats of this episode.

I consider this one to be a decent hang, and maybe my favorite of this comparatively lackluster run. Not much in this one stands out to me as amazing or particularly hilarious, but I don’t think anything’s particularly wrong with it, either. This is the same spirit of episodes I really love; one where it’s mostly about the characters interacting and letting moments breathe. The biggest thing this episode is lacking, though, is Dr. Venture and Brock, who only appear in a brief cutaway at their science conference. As mentioned in the commentary, this helped the Venture crew stay under budget, seeing as how the cast consisted of three actors (two of whom were Jackson and Doc). 

There’s a lot made of the title of this episode in the commentary and the reason for that is that apparently this ran in some TV guides as “Murder O’Clock”, which they changed when they finished the closing credits of the episode. Doc remarked that he’s bad at titling things, and forever knows this episode as his initial title of “Goes to Compound”. I agree it’s a bad title! It refers to the cold open and nothing else, so I always look at this title and think "that's the one where the Monarch kills the Seacow guy in the cold open" and remember nothing else.

In the cold open, the Monarch half-heartedly arches a good guy named Dr. Dugong, who is half human/half manatee. This is my least favorite part of the episode, and my least favorite joke that The Venture Bros. tells. Because of bureaucratic Guild of Calamitous Intent policy, The Monarch is not allowed to follow his truth bliss of arching Dr. Venture. Since this villain and hero have been jammed together by the guild, we have these super heroes and villains all self-consciously playing a role and acting almost as though as they’re reading from a script.

The point of it is that it’s dispiriting, and it works as a set-up for the rest of the episode. I just find it unfunny and as joyless to watch as it must feel in-universe. There’s almost nowhere you can take that premise and have it be interesting. The scene ends with The Monarch, at the urging of Dr. Mrs. the Monarch, telling him to just pretend his new foe is Dr. Venture. He does, and murders him in a crime of mistaken passion, which lands him in hot water with the guild. This bit winds up weighing on the overall story of the series when the Ventures move to New York and we find out he was the relative of a main antagonist. 

Other things worth noting: Dean’s mimeographed Venture news paper is memorable. It’s implied that Henchman 21 wrote to the advice column about his unrequited crush on Dr. Mrs. the Monarch, which first came up in season two during the first Dr. Killinger episode. This gets developed as the series progresses. Dermot also claims to be Brock’s long-lost son to evade a confrontation with 24. This is also the beginning of 21’s insistence that he and 24 are like “main characters” in a TV show, a delusion that winds up getting dashed at the end of the season. 

There’s also a reference that caused me to rent and be disappointed by a motion picture: Eddie and the Cruisers. Eddie and the Cruisers II: Eddie Lives is sitting on my Plex server as we speak and will likely never be watched (or, for mental illness reasons, deleted) as long as I’m alive. The show loves referring to forgotten, lame movies. Sharky’s Machine, aside from one really impressive stunt, is also a bore. 

Robot Chicken: Star Wars DVD (July 22, 2008)

When I was at the height of collecting Adult Swim on DVD, I bargained with myself that I would not buy the DVDs for shows that I heavily disliked. But, what I WOULD DO is, is I would rent the DVDs from Netflix and make a DVD-R copy of them. I would also print out a copy of the cover and include it in my collection of Adult Swim DVDs, which I kept together, organized by earliest episode’s air-date for each volume. It was convoluted, but I liked seeing them in rough-chronological order on the shelf, lord help me. I also made custom DVDs and covers for shows that didn’t have official releases. I sometimes get the urge to put it all back that way on my current shelves. I am almost 40 years old.

I guess what I’m saying is, even though I don’t like Robot Chicken, and I especially don’t like Robot Chicken: Star Wars, I still at one point possessed a DVDShrink-authored DVD-R of the DVD’s contents, and marveled at how much extra stuff was on there. There was literally like 5 audio commentary tracks on this fucking thing. I think one of them had George Lucas’ kids on it. Ugh. I hate that I know that. I didn’t look that up, I swear. I just remembered this. There are literally girls who I had crushes on whose names escape me, and I remember who participated in the fifth audio commentary track of the Robot Chicken Star Wars DVD. Goodbye, everyone *kills self*

[tojiscrack]

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒:

note: i don’t mean to make this restricting, but if this blog is supposed to be a safe place for everyone (including myself) we might need some ground rules about what can and cannot happen here :)

requests:

you can ask for small drabbles to do with fictional characters you might be interested in. has to have a prompt, of course, so i know what i’m writing about

no [nsfw] content. the only thing that borders it slightly that is allowed could be random thoughts or head canons you might have of a particular character (in short, i still want you to be able to express random, funny thoughts you have because at the end of the day, we’re all simps for these fictional characters and completely down bad lmfao)

the awkward thing about requests is when someone asks you to write about a particular character that you dislike or despise. in order to prevent this, i’ll quickly jot down characters i like/dislike <3

i only write for fem!readers seeing as all my fics and works are self indulgent. that being said, in terms of what the reader is described as, my works are friendly for any and all skin types and hair types! :) (i try to make it so that it is, if you spot anything that you feel isn’t poc friendly, don’t be afraid to send me a message about it so it can be corrected!)

fandoms i write for:

aot and jjk

other mentions:

in the nicest way possible, i don’t want criticism on anything i write. i make fics for my enjoyment, to please myself and indulge for me. i only aim to do this with you all, not for you all.

on the contrary, i do like feedback on my writing. as long as it is polite, i’m okay with any other comments. i enjoy reading your thoughts!!

no hate comments will be tolerated in the comments or my inbox. i’ll respond to them if i feel the need to, and then straight after that, you’re getting blocked bcz you are a stranger on the internet - i truly do not have time for your ass lmao

if you support israel, get the fuck off my page and never return. you’re not welcome here, don’t stay where you’re unwanted. #freepalestine

why i might have blocked you:

i don’t block anyone at all, but if i have, it’s probably due to 2 reasons: 1. because of an interaction you’ve had with me that wasn’t pleasant. in other words, it wouldn’t have come out of blue. i’m never part of any drama lol, so you most likely won’t have to worry about this part (though it is safe to keep this up just in case)!! :) or 2. your posts with ships that i simply dislike (and/or hate) have come up on my feed a frequent number of times and i’m just tired of seeing it. this doesn’t mean i have any ill intent towards you when i block you, i just want to enter the app without seeing things i don’t exactly want to see! :)

who can interact?

anyone and everyone!

however, do not interact if you come under the following: racist, islamaphobic, misogynistic, anti-semetic, zionist, etc.

people under 18 can interact! this also includes ageless blogs :)

protection of my writing:

one thing that makes my writing specifically known as mine is the way i write y/n or the plot — usually follows a more comedic/crack type of story rather than an actual… story, lmfao?? i will not allow for anyone to take certain scenes i’ve written (and i’ll know, trust me, bcz i come up with them as they’re all inspired from IRL events of my own life) and then incorporate them into their own story. in short: i will not allow plagiarism, stealing my ideas, taking inspo from my writing without credit, and so on.

anything ranging from copying my stories to translating my work in another language is definitely not allowed.

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aot characters i am not willing to write for:

floch and zeke

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mahito and kenjaku

rules last updated:

14th of april, 2024

that’s all!! enjoy your stay <3

[ryuzakemo128]

Am I Boring You?

Pairing: Tommy Miller x you / Joel Miller x you

Content Warnings: Fake Relationship (Tommy x you), Angst, Mild Violence, No outbreak alternate universe, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is in his early 40s and Tommy is in his late 30s), Albino! Goth! Female Reader, Implied Sexual Content, female reader is a big tiddy goth gf, Joel is suspicious of fem reader, wealthy Miller family line, Tommy's secret.

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Masterlist

Words: 1988

Summary: Yeah, I’m managing it now, actually. They’ve been pretty cool with giving me some space. But telling them I’m going to be on a break without mentioning why is going to be weird.”

Joel didn’t know what to expect when it came to you. You weren’t bright like most of the women his younger brother, Tommy, brought around. Wearing dark colours, two different eye colours and albino. A strange mix. An odd mix of a human soul. A mix of black clothes and white standing out against the greenery in the Miller estate.

“I grew up in England. I don’t think they’re going to take this ‘lie’ laying down.” Joel heard from Tommy Miller’s bedroom. “Also, I still have to work at the bar, remember?”

Tommy's response came quickly, perhaps even a little too quick in Joel's opinion, “It'll just be for a few days. Think of it as an… extended vacation.”

“I'll ask my parents if they'll mind.” you replied.

Tommy then asked, “Are you still working at your parent's bar?”

You nodded, your long white hair swaying slightly. “Yeah, I’m managing it now, actually. They’ve been pretty cool with giving me some space. But telling them I’m going to be on a break without mentioning why is going to be weird.”

Joel leaned against the door frame, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn’t trust the ease with which you fit into this situation. It was almost too perfect, too convenient. He stepped into the room, his boots echoing on the hardwood floor. “What’s in this for you?” he asked bluntly, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Nothing other than hopefully scaring them a little and with a hop, skip and a jump. They don't seem too utterly devastated by his actual choice.” you answered.

Joel studied you for a moment, his gaze intense. You could almost feel the weight of his stare, but you didn’t flinch.

You were used to the scrutiny of strangers, the way people looked at you like you were an oddity. It came with the territory of looking the way you did.

“What’s your angle?” he pressed, his voice low and gruff. “Why are you helping him?”

“What's the matter? Can't deal with the fact that people help out their friends without asking for something in return? Can't deal with that kind of thing or don't want to admit that you can't do something without getting something out of it?” you answered.

Joel’s jaw clenched at the accusation, but before he could retort, you continued, “Look, I get it. Tommy’s your brother and you’re protective. But if he says I’m okay, then I’m okay. Unless you’ve got a better idea to deal with those jerks?”

Tommy, noticing the tension, placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Back off, man. She’s just trying to help.”

Joel looked from you to Tommy, his eyes still narrowed. “I don’t know anything about you. How do I know you won’t mess him up more than he already is?”

“Coming from someone who dated a single mother and then cheated on her with her own daughter. I don't think you're in the position to ask such questions. Now, tomorrow or ever. Let alone be allowed to interfere with matters that relate to your younger brother.” you spat, rolling your eyes at him.

Surprise flashed across Joel’s face, and his hand tightened on Tommy’s shoulder.

Tommy stiffened, looking at you with a mix of shock and defensiveness. “What?” he sputtered, turning to Joel.

“Your older brother has a strange habit of breaking women's hearts and fucking around. Then goes whining about why no woman wants to date him because he can't 'control' himself.” you answered before Joel could even get a word in, edge ways.

Joel's surprise morphed into anger as he pushed himself off the door frame, taking a step towards you. “What the hell do you know about my past?” he growled.

“I'm friends with that single mother you dated. Don't get pissy when the truth gets thrown in your face and end up hating the taste of karma on the tip of your tongue. How about you go to therapy and start unpacking that pathetically large ego of yours.”

Joel's eyes widened, and he took a step back, his hand dropping from Tommy's shoulder.

He hadn't expected you to know about his past, let alone throw it back at him so casually.

It was clear you weren't someone to be underestimated. The irony wasn't completely lost on him.

“Now go on pup, go back to your mummy and daddy, tell them your big feelings go hurt and that you need a week to yourself to think about how to deal with it like a grown-up.” You smirked, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture. Joel’s eyes burned with a fiery intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t back down. You wouldn't let a man child demand things when he wants or how he wants it.

With a grunt, Joel turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving you and Tommy in an awkward silence. Tommy looked at you with a mix of bewilderment and admiration. “You know him well.”

“I'm the eldest of three younger brothers. Believe me, I know his type.” You shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. The air was thick with tension, and you didn't want it to ruin the night. Tommy looked at you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Besides, I manage my parent's bar, so I deal a lot of men like him at that age. So not too terribly surprising.”

Tommy chuckled, a low sound that seemed to break the spell of discomfort that had settled over the room. “You’ve got a point there,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “But he’s got good intentions, you know. Just… complicated ways of showing it.”

“Good intentions are just that, intentions. Until he acts upon them. They remain just that. Intentions. Kind of like saying, Mr. Simmons has good intentions on not being a drunkard. But until he stops drinking, he’s still a drunkard at the end of the day, isn’t he?” You responded, your tone even, your gaze steady on Tommy.

“And if he wants to be a good person, he shouldn't need to call himself a good person.”

Meanwhile, Joel paced around inside his bedroom looking into your background, trying to find any dirt he could use to discredit you.

But all he found were positive reviews from the bar you managed.

A few pictures of you with Tommy.

You were a good manager and a loyal friend.

Nothing that screamed “danger.” He couldn't help but feel like he was the villain in this story, but he refused to let his guard down.

He dug deeper, yet all he found was your unblemished record, your locksmith apprenticeship, and the fact that you were an orphan adopted by a family in England.

The more he searched, the more Joel felt like the asshole he was acting like.

The rage inside him was simmering down into something else entirely.

Something that felt like guilt.

He found out you were a debate captain in high school and that you are now in University part-time for Business Management.

Your side hustles like the mead you sold at the bar were all legal and well documented.

Along with the clothes you made yourself to your own exact size inside the empty room, his parents were more than happy to lend you during your stay. Because they knew how much you struggled with finding clothes that fit your unique size.

The dark-coloured clothes on the racks matched the darkness of your soul, but the room was filled with light from your spirit.

Joel closed the laptop and leaned back on the bed, his eyes on the ceiling. You had a good heart, it seemed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were hiding something from them. Was it the aloofness or the way you talked? It was something. He knew it.

The next day, Joel tried to keep his distance, watching you interact with the rest of the Miller family during dinner. You were charming, witty, and even had Joel’s parents laughing at your stories of managing the bar and the quirky regulars you had to deal with.

But Joel wasn’t fooled. The sharpness to your words hinted at a steely resolve beneath the surface.

As the night grew later, Joel found himself unable to sleep, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He decided to confront his brother, finding him in the study, nursing a whisky. All the while reading a book to you as you were falling asleep. Oddly enough, it looked peaceful.

“Tommy, we need to talk,” Joel said, his voice tight. Tommy looked up from the book, setting it down gently on the side table next to you. You stirred slightly but didn't wake up.

“What's up?” Tommy asked, standing up to join Joel in the hallway outside the study.

“I don't trust her,” Joel said bluntly.

Tommy frowned, his eyes darting back to the study door where you were sleeping. “What’s not to trust? She’s just trying to help, Joel. Give her a break, okay?”

Joel rubbed his forehead, trying to gather his thoughts. “It’s not that, it’s just… I don’t know. Something feels off. Like she’s got her own agenda here.”

Tommy leaned against the wall, his arms folded. “Look, I know you’re worried about me, but I’ve got this handled. You don’t need to play the overprotective big brother.”

Joel sighed heavily. “It’s not just that, Tommy. It’s the way she talked about me earlier. Like she knows all my secrets, all my shit. It’s eerie.”

Tommy looked at Joel with a knowing expression. “Maybe she’s just smarter than you give her credit for. Or maybe she’s just honest. Sometimes the truth hurts, but that doesn’t mean she’s hiding something.”

Joel clenched his jaw, not ready to let it go. “And what’s with the fake relationship? Why are you guys playing this game?”

"Because of our fucking parents wanting me to marry a rich blonde lady you fucked. Shut up and go fuck someone else like you always do. I hate it when you get in my face and take everything I have. Get lost." Tommy snapped at him.

Joel’s eyes widened, realizing the depth of the situation he’d stumbled into. “Tommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was that bad,” he said, his voice softer now.

"Shut up and go to someone who cares about cleaning up your bullshit." Tommy wasn't having it anymore.

You stirred in your sleep, the tension in the room was palpable. You had a feeling Joel was out there, lurking like a dark shadow waiting to jump out and attack. Tommy looked at you, his eyes apologetic. You sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Tommy said, a bit too quickly. You could tell he was lying. You knew Joel was out there, and he was likely the cause of the disturbance.

"Lets go to bed and chill out. We can solve it tomorrow." You cooed into Tommy's ear.

Joel looked at you and then at his brother before finally backing off. Tommy nodded, looking relieved and led you back to his room.

You laid down and wrapped yourself around him, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was calming.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Tommy murmured, stroking your hair gently. “He doesn’t mean to be such an asshole.”

“Hey. At this point let karma run its course.” you calmly soothed, your voice muffled by his shirt.

Tommy’s heart thumped a little harder under your ear, and you felt the tension in his body slowly ease.

You knew Joel wasn’t all bad, just confused. “Anything he says or does will say more about his character than it does about yours.”

Tommy sighed, his arms tightening around you. “You’re right,” he murmured. “I just don’t want him to ruin this for me.”

Note: Sarah is still alive in this universe. I plan to give her a cameo or at least a chapter around her and her father sometime.

[beatsboy]

7.5.24 day 12 of romanticizing my life until i love myself again

brat in the street

found an old song on a sheet of paper written before my egg cracked. revealing

fuck you, you’re not my king, it ends. funny that my first single is literally “(i’m your) king” and it’s about my breakup

used my uber eats for the first time in like a year and it came with my deadname. amazing

tested positive for covid after rushing out of my house to go pick up my friend’s dog i’m taking care of while they’re out of town, thinking i was just coming down with a cold (there was no human interaction in this exchange)

after driving/walking from 10am til 1pm essentially i came home, feeling like shit, and decided to take a covid test, and here we are

i miss tb so much when i get sick. i miss the way they would make me soup, tea, bring it to me in bed. how we’d watch studio ghibli movies and pretend it wasn’t sunny outside so i would feel less trapped indoors. i miss the way they never cared that i was sick in the way i do, in the way that i’m afraid of getting sick (partially because i’m immunocompromised, but i was v paranoid even before i found that out). they’d just cuddle me, hold me, take care of me, and do chores in between while i was sleeping during the day

and i was always so upset. why? just because i got sick. because i couldn’t do things. in the last year of our relationship, i remember getting covid before fluid, being so upset i couldn’t prep and work and get money for the show. when i got covid the first time, in the first year of our relationship, i was so upset i couldn’t be there for cori, and yet, i was given a chance, to just be taken care of and do nothing else. realizing now, that that was the only time i’ve ever really had that, other than zeke (hs boyfriend lmao do not have to redact his name bc i know he will never see this), and i regret not cherishing it in the moment, instead being so angry at the illness in my body stopping me

i know i crave tb and grow weaker in this breakup (it’s been over a year since we broke up sort of, but we spent all last summer being in and out of it, broken up but not very well), in september it will have been a year since they moved out. since it was really real. it wasn’t real before then. we kept trying to go back to us, to see the changes in action, but every time we tried to put them in action, after seeing ourselves be able to do it on our own, the work, the healthy behaviors, we would just fall into the same cycles. and by september, i was done. i was done trying, working. i was exhausted. we almost spent $3000 on couples therapy. we were 26! i know now, all we needed was space and independence, and to work on our own respective traumas. and then there is the question if i want to be with this person at all, beyond codependency, beyond the linger, beyond the rumination, beyond the addiction

i know, that after a breakup, you spend so long in the ruminating phase, as they’re calling it these days. or, at least i do. i spent 4 out of 5 years of my flirtationship with my ex, jb, ruminating, pining, and thinking that someday we would end up together. of course, i dated other people, fucked other people, but i was never over him. not even when i dated kc, my girlfriend after college. not even then had i really gotten over him. and then, one day i did, like magic, and everything changed. i hate to give credit to him, and it wasn’t just him of course, it was going no contact with my father (and dating jb was very much an instance of wow i dated my dad), allowed me a freedom i had never known before. the awareness of being perceived by that kind of man was holding me back so much more than i would have liked to thought. my idea of myself revolved around what i thought both those men would find impressive (dad) or attractive (jb), and most of the time both in my ex’s case.

i never had that fear with tb. i never worried about them finding me attractive or impressive. i never worried about how they would perceive me. i changed in front of their eyes, and there were some hard conversations along the way (i.e. do you like men or do you just like me, because if you’re not legit sexually attracted to men you can’t be attracted to me) and i watched them change, too. but, by the end of our relationship, i was a completely different person. i act like i changed so much from 2020 to the end of 2021, and i did. i shaved my head, i tattooed my face, i did things i didn’t even know existed, i also got very addicted to cocaine. and tb met me in that era, when i was a femme karaoke queen who was in the middle of the most succession ass family drama they’ve ever heard in real life. and they just, loved me. and they watched me grow and change, soften and harden, break down and rebuild myself. reinvent myself. again.

but i remember also, when i had to buy myself flowers. when i had to choose all our date nights. when i became so in charge for some reason. and they would do things for me, anything i asked, but eventually, they never did things i didn’t ask for. i asked for a lot, i know. things were unbalanced, in both directions

i think about “king” my song from our breakup. it was all about ownership. love is not belonging to someone, i know that now, that’s just how i was taught. i don’t want to love like a king, i don’t even want to live like one. it sounds so lonely, and i am already feeling a bit too much of that at the moment.

i know this is a lung disease but finally broke down and smoked some weed to help me sleep, and maybe eat something. it’s hard to eat without it, and i don’t have a lot of food at home right now (will probably have to really give in and instacart tomorrow)

tb offered to come bring me groceries even though they’re working for the next 7 days basically. why can’t i just let them love me

i need it

i want it