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hallowed-be-thy-username · 4 years ago

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Clothing Is Custom, No Labels

“No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name, no other alias.”

Summary: You’re one of the last bespoke tailors in town, making suits and custom clothing for Gotham’s elite. Business men and women, well known lawyers, the Wayne family, and… the Joker?

Genre: Self-insert, porn with plot, longfic

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x fem reader

Warnings: angst!, threats, intimidation

Word count: 4,334

Author’s note: Oh my god, ok, I was stricken with a particularly persistent case of writer's block but I'm finally back! Here we are with part thirteen!! It took me SO long, as you can see 🙈, but I'm super excited for this chapter (even though I say that about every chapter, it's true!) and I'm sorry it isn't a bit longer! But we've got loads of plot development and dialogue, I hope you enjoy it! This one's smut free for now, but don't worry, it'll be back very soon 🔥

Please read the warning above and do not interact with this story if you are a minor! Comments and reblogs always appreciated ❤️

Musical Inspiration: Something In The Way by Nirvana

- Part Thirteen -

Sleep should have been the last thing on your mind as you followed Joker out into the warehouse, but your fatigue was starting to grow stronger than your anxiety by now. You actually had no idea what time it was, but it was late enough that exhaustion was beginning to set in behind your eyes. Or was that just from the wild range of emotions you’d experienced in only one day?

You worked on taking steady breaths while you carefully stepped behind him and watched the bottom of his coat sway around his calves to keep yourself from looking at the handful of men standing nearby. Because they were looking at you, you didn’t need to lift your gaze to know that.

Embarrassment heated your cheeks when you arrived at a table with a few folding chairs around it and looked across the table to lock eyes with the man who’d guarded the office door earlier. He stared back for only a second before averting his eyes and rounding the table to pull a chair out for you, making your face burn even hotter. It almost felt as though you were being treated like one of those posh wives that often accompanied many of your wealthy clients, so superior and self-important. The contrast was ironic, funny really. Instead of a ritzy downtown Gotham restaurant, you were in an abandoned warehouse covered in graffiti. And in place of an affluent husband dressed in a pristine suit, you sat next to the Joker, his distinctive purple coat falling open across his lap as he leaned back in his chair, showing where he’d missed a button on his green vest.

The comparison made your throat go dry and you almost choked when you swallowed against it. You had to get out of your own head if you wanted to get through whatever was about to happen without humiliating yourself further.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Joker’s voice snapped you to attention and not a moment after his statement, a man with black hair slicked back against his head and a pointed nose was lead into the room. Your stomach dropped when you noticed what he was wearing. Black tie, white shirt, navy jacket with silver buttons and a shiny police badge over the left pocket.

The heat drained from your face and all of a sudden you felt compelled to run but you couldn’t move. Instead, you stayed firmly planted in your seat, failing to hide the terror in your face while they sat the man down in a chair across from Joker.

He sighed and licked his lips, lacing his fingers together to rest across his stomach before finally speaking. “What kept you so long, Thomas?”

You noticed the man was trembling slightly and starting to sweat, raising the feeling of dread into your throat before he answered, “I-I got news, boss.”

The cold sinking feeling that had fallen over you suddenly dissolved. You were preparing yourself for what he was about to do to this unfortunate police officer, but it seemed that things were more than they appeared, as you’d learned they often are with him.

“Do you? Well then, do tell,” Joker replied in a mocking tone, looking down at the knife from his pocket he’d begun to toy with.

The man, whose name was apparently Thomas, fought hard to swallow before speaking again. “Dent saw the name a-and started askin’ questions. He was gonna shoot me but the Batman-”

Joker’s eyes flashed up from the knife and Thomas froze in place. His mention of Batman instantly raised the tension level in the room, and you found yourself gripping the seat of your chair.

Keeping the knife in his hand, he leaned over the table and growled, “But the Batman wha-t?”

Thomas forced shaky breaths in and out through his nose, keeping his eyes on Joker’s with his jaw clenched tightly. “He… he stopped ‘im,” he managed to utter without his teeth chattering.

“My hero,” Joker answered derisively before leaning back into his seat.

You let the breath you’d been holding out from between your lips while the man in uniform, his forehead now beaded with sweat, blinked and tried to catch his own breath. Joker must enjoy the power he held over people. Inducing so much fear and anxiety by just looking at them. Your heart fluttered when you thought about the thrill it gave you. It was like you’d had been trained to feel more than fear. He stirred up such a complex arousal within you that was hard to explain, even to yourself. Was it because he made you tremble with pleasure and not with pain?

Then your thoughts were interrupted when Joker spoke again, “Now is there more to this little story of yours, Schiff, or have you wasted my very precious time?”

He kept his dull gaze on Thomas, blinking at him, seemingly bored by the whole situation while the man struggled to speak again, his pursed lips quivering. After his tongue slipped out of this mouth to lick the forked scar on his lip, Joker shifted to stand up and Thomas flinched before blurting out, “He’s turnin’ himself in!”

Joker whipped his head back around to stare at the now visibly shaking man with a new fire in his eyes and you stiffened in your chair. There was that thrill again. Your stomach churned a little as a new thought entered your mind. Yes, he enjoyed the power he held over people, and so did you. The way people would freeze, and their eyes widened. The menace that surrounded him came from so much more than a purple suit and smeared greasepaint. He was becoming some obscure figure or representation of fear. His name had been uttered by almost every citizen in Gotham, spoken with an undertone like it left a bitter taste on their tongues, and it wasn’t even his real name. But to the city of Gotham, it was his real name.

“T-…Tomorrow,” Thomas managed to stammer as Joker’s shadow cast over his face.

He approached him and leaned in close, his towering frame hunched forward at his waist. “Wanted to save the, uh, head-line for last, did ya?”

Thomas’s face grew paler, and he vigorously shook his head as Joker licked his lips with a loud smack before continuing, “My time is precious, Schiff, and it’s a terrible thing to waste.”

You took quick breaths in and out through your nose, the air almost burning the back of your throat, like gasoline. It was him. His scent reached your mind and turned your thoughts to how it felt to have him close, as if the smell of him was enough to absorb you. The shirt. Your eyes glanced down at the blue diamond patterned button-up that covered your body and goosebumps suddenly tickled your skin.

“Now. Before any more of it slips away, why don’t you go with these nice gentlemen so they can collect some de-tails from ya, hm?” he said with faux repose before patting Schiff on the cheek.

Two men that you hadn’t noticed approach made you flinch when they appeared behind the man before each took hold of one of his arms to stand him up from the chair. His gaze finally broke away from Joker’s face to scan over the men, making a soft sound, like a whimper, as they silently escorted him out through the side door.

It slammed and you felt like you’d just been dropped into your chair from where you’d been floating somewhere above it, blinking your eyes as if to clear fog from your vision. The warmth of arousal swiftly faded and the uneasy feeling of eyes on you began to crawl up your back. The room was eerily quiet now and you couldn’t seem to dare yourself to move, you just stared ahead into the darkness on the other end of the warehouse.

Then you nearly jumped out of your chair and gasped when you felt hands rest on your shoulders. “What’s the matter, doll face? Afraid of cops, hm?”

So much for getting out of your own head. Your face heated up once again and you fought against the cascade of nervous impulses trying to take you over before turning your head to see Joker’s gloved hand on your shoulder. Your heart fluttered relentlessly, as if trying to flee from your chest every time you saw him.

“Mm well, no need to worry. Thomasover there works for me.”

It was strange, the contrast between the way he spoke to that man and how he spoke to you. It was hard not to read into it. Part of you knew it was because he wanted something from you, but you couldn’t stop the little rising feeling that maybe you meant something to him. Why would you want that from a man like him? Had you been corrupted that much? The whole thing was enough to make your head spin all over again. But you took a deep breath before your thoughts could consume you and finally lifted your gaze to look at him.

He gazed back at you with heavy eyelids and your heart rose up into your throat, your lips parting as you blinked at him. This was all on purpose. Giving them a show, bringing you out here wearing one of his shirts, making sure they could see you. It should have made you upset, the way he paraded you around, but it made you feel something else. Tingles traveled up your neck and through your burning cheeks as a sense of gratification bloomed in your chest. You were his and he wanted them to know that. Maybe you wanted them to know it too. You wanted them to know that you were his… that you’d slept with Gotham’s most dangerous man.

A small smile appeared on your face, the air carrying the smell of greasepaint and burnt matches as the corner of his mouth stretched into a smirk. Still no sign of the bottom of this rabbit hole.

_______________

The deep darkness of a dreamless sleep lifted as your eyes slowly opened, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings where you found yourself waking. This wasn’t your bedroom. Your mind, still somewhat shrouded by sleep, tried to make sense of where you might be instead before jolting you awake, and it all came back to you. It’d only been one night, but it felt like so many more.

You weren’t sure exactly when you’d fallen asleep. But you remembered following him back to his office, there were some passing remarks to the men in the room, you thought maybe then you sat down on the bed, but your exhaustion obscured any more details. What time was it?

Raising your arms over your head, you stretched beneath the blanket that had been placed over top of you and took a deep breath of the cool air. After rubbing your eyes, you heard a small sound coming from the little bathroom in the back of the office. Your breath caught in your throat and a flutter of anxiety came over you when you realized you weren’t alone. Holding still, you listened carefully and heard the sound of water running. It must be him, who else would it be? That maddening flutter grew stronger along with the familiar rise of heat in your face. Was that ever going to stop?

Swallowing against the tightness in your throat, you quietly pulled the blanket away and swung your legs over the side of the mattress, your bare feet making contact with the concrete floor. Once your weight settled onto your tip-toes, you carefully took silent steps toward the bathroom. As you approached the doorway, the sound of running water was accompanied by a metallic clink and a low hum.

You cursed your nerves for being so on edge, it was becoming embarrassing at this point. So, in an attempt to boldly ignore your meek apprehension, you took a breath and stepped into the doorway.

The warmth in your cheeks increased ten-fold as your eyes scanned the sight in front of you. Leaning over the sink while a steamy flow of water ran from the tap, Joker’s reflection in the mirror glanced at you without turning around. He was bringing a straight razor to his face, carefully gliding it along his jawline before rinsing it under the tap and bringing it back to take another row of shaving cream. He was wearing the same thin thank top with only traces of greasepaint left around his ears.

“Mmm well, there she is. A regular sleeping beauty, aren’tcha, doll?” he said, his eyes returning to his own face in the mirror.

Make that twenty-fold. You huffed a breath as you tried to come up with a response, too stunned by something so seemingly ordinary. Sure, you’d seen men shave before, but this was different. It was strange to see him move with such precision, so careful with his hands, running the sharp blade around the rough edges of his scars with ease. His penchant for chaos came with a certain finesse, an accuracy that he made appear so effortless. Perhaps you’d been staring too long.

“Now that you’ve rejoined the, uh, land of the living, we have some work to do.”

You blinked and tore your gaze away from the mirror, trying to look anywhere else before it finally landed on the tile floor. “Um… what kind of work?”

He chuckled and you could feel him looking at you in the mirror again when he answered, “The kind that requires some subtlety, a little nuance that no one else here can measure up to.”

Your eyes lifted from the floor after you thought for a moment about what he said and you asked, “No one else but me?”

“You catch on quick, baby doll,” he replied, clicking his tongue as he swiped away the last bit of shaving cream from his face. Then he set the razor on the edge of the sink and turned around, looking you up and down as he closed the gap between you. “It’s your time to shineonce again.”

That feeling had begun to fill your chest. That strange sense of pride tangled up with your willingness to do more, your desire to please. You didn’t seem to be in control of it, that was something you gave up days ago, but you could see it blurring the line between what was right and what was wrong even further. Soon you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

He stopped in front of you, keeping your gaze locked with his as you felt the ghost of his breath on your skin. The more he looked at you like that, the stronger that feeling was becoming. He knew it too, didn’t he? He knew that you belonged to him by now and you had no wish to put a stop to it, even after everything you’d seen.

“What do you want me to do?”

A small smirk appeared on his face and he answered in a low voice, “That’s what I like to hear, doll.”

The heat that had been rising in your body came to a sudden halt when he then turned to pass you through the doorway, leaving you taking slow breaths to regain what little composure you could manage.

“This one’s simple,” he called over his shoulder from his desk. “All you gotta do is blend in. Be a fly on the wall, so to speak.”

Were you ever going to be able to keep your mind out of the gutter whenever he got close? Probably not. But you could try to hide it. After letting out one more breath, you turned to follow him into the office where he’d sat at his desk with the small hand held mirror you’d seen before, dipping his fingers into a jar of white paint before starting to smear it across his face.

“Blend in where?”

He chuckled, scooping more paint out cover his jaw line. Then without looking up from the mirror he answered, “Check the suitcase by the bed.”

A tattered leather suitcase beside the bed quickly caught your eye. You weren’t sure if he’d ever answered any of your questions directly before and it seemed that was unlikely to change soon, so you tentatively followed his instruction. It wasn’t heavy when you picked it up to place it on the bed. Then after clicking the latches open, you shifted your gaze toward the desk. He’d moved on to smudging black around his eyes, still not turning to look at you. Those insidious butterflies in your stomach made themselves known and in an attempt to shoo them away, you hurriedly lifted the lid on the leather case.

Not sure what you were expecting to see in the first place, you blinked for a moment at the articles of clothing folded neatly inside before reaching in to pick them up. On top was a black pencil skirt, just the right length for the hem to lay above your knees, and beneath it was a deep purple cardigan with opalescent buttons down the front. The purple knit fabric matched that of his coat almost exactly. Heat returned to your cheeks then your eye caught sight of a pair of black heels in the bottom of the case.

“Can’t have you going out in that, hm?”

Your heart leapt into its familiar place in your throat as you looked down at his shirt you were still wearing, goosebumps crawling up your back before you turned around and nearly ran into him. He’d finished with the bright smear of red on his mouth and was now standing over you, the look in his eyes drawing even more warmth to the surface of your skin.

His fingers slid down your wrist before he took your hand in his, turning your palm upwards as his eyes remained locked with yours, your breath now a shallow huff. After reaching into his pocket, you felt him place something in your hand.

Holding back the excitement climbing up behind your tongue, you forced your eyes down. It was some kind of ID card. In bold letters along the bottom, it read “PRESS” and in the corner, you saw an image of yourself. Your eyes widened when you recognized it as the photo from your driver’s license.

Your eyes darting back up to his face, you asked, “What’s this?”

He raised an eyebrow and replied, “What does it look like?”

“How did you get my license photo?”

A chuckle vibrated in his throat and he turned away from you to go back to his desk where he took something from one of the drawers.

“Always so many questions, doll. But never the right ones.”

_______________

It was hard to keep yourself from fidgeting with the hem of the skirt. It was actually very well made and fit you like a glove, but your nerves were getting the best of you once again. You sat in the backseat of an SUV with tinted windows where Joker had just slid in next to you moments ago.

The brightness of the morning sun was only partially lessened by the darkened glass, it’s beams still nearly blinding where it peeked out from between buildings. Lifting your hand to shield your eyes, the other clutching the ID card, you squinted out the window to try to discern where you here headed. He’d left you to get cleaned up and dressed then took you straight to this car outside where a driver was waiting, not a word exchanged between anyone. He said this would be simple, but you couldn’t keep your stomach from tying into a tense knot while you worried over what you were expected to do.

“Ok, doll. Like I said, this one’s simple.”

His timing couldn’t have been better. You turned away from the window to see him reach into his coat pocket, retrieving something small that he held between his fingertips.

“With this, you can be my eyes and ears,” he said, holding it out.

It was a little black earpiece, small enough to fit comfortably in your ear. When you lifted your eyes, about to ask what it was for, you stopped before the words could exit your lips. He’d shifted closer to you and reached out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. The leather of his glove brushed against your cheek, rendering it scorching as he placed the small device in your ear.

“You are now an esteemed member of the press and today you’ve scored the opportunity to report on the biggest story sweeping the city…” he grinned, taking the ID from your hand and clipping it to your sweater. “The Batman is turning himself in.”

Next thing you knew, the car pulled up to the curb then the man sitting in the front seat reached behind him and pushed your door open. The cool air rushed over your face and you whipped back around, mouth open but no questions left to ask.

“Your time to shine, baby girl.”

Your feet carried you toward the tall building in front of you, its ground floor lined with windows while your chest shuddered against the quick breaths you forced in and out of it. You hadn’t been given much instruction, but you knew standing around on the sidewalk looking confused wasn’t what you should be doing. Scanning the entrance in search of where you should be going, you noticed a small crowd entering the door on the far end of the building and turned toward it.

“Bingo. You’re gettin’ good at this, doll.”

His voice suddenly rumbling in your ear sent a rush down your back and you almost stopped in your tracks, but you pressed forward as warmth filled your face, trying to keep your expression calm and unassuming. You had to resist looking behind you to look for the car you knew he must be watching you from.

After taking a quick glance around you to make sure you were still alone, you swallowed and asked quietly, “Can you hear me?”

He answered with a low chuckle and said, “Mm loud and clear, sweetheart.”

Great, how were you supposed to stay composed when it felt like he was following right behind you? But the door was getting closer, and you didn’t have much time to ask questions. Now you could see inside where news cameras were all pointed in the same direction.

“Are you gonna tell me what to do?”

“Eyes and ears, doll. Your big story awaits.”

He probably heard the frustrated sigh you couldn’t hold back as you pulled the glass door open to follow the crowd, his giggle tickling in your ear.

The large conference room was packed with people sitting in rows in front of a small stage where a podium was set up, more standing along the walls and backed all the way up to the door. You quietly squeezed behind the group just inside the entrance and made your way toward the last spot against the wall, eyeing the handful of police officers to your right. As if your nerves weren’t weighing heavy enough on you, now there were cops here?

You looked down at the press badge clipped to your sweater and tried to relax. Just blend in, they weren’t there for you. Staring at the podium rigged with a handful of microphones across the room, his words echoed in your head, the Batman is tuning himself in.

Then the crowd gradually fell silent when flashes and the clicking of cameras followed a man with a head of sandy blonde hair as he stepped up to the podium. You recognized his face from his campaign ads right away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I’ve called this press conference for two reasons. Firstly, to ensure the citizens of Gotham that everything that can be done over the Joker killings is being done.” Harvey Dent continued to speak over contentions from the crowd and said, “Secondly, because the Batman has offered to turn himself in. But first, let’s consider the situation. Should we give in to this terrorist’s demands?”

You couldn’t understand the rest over Joker’s burst of laughter in your ear. You quickly covered it with your hand to smother the sound before he held his giggles back and said, “Me? A Terrorist? Oh Harvey, you’re gonna make me blush.”

The crowd continued the argue against him until Harvey made a promise. “The Batman will have to answer to the laws he’s broken but to us, not to this mad man.”

A mad man. You supposed that wasn’t untrue. You’d seen enough to know that. But it still somehow didn’t feel true to you. Like it was what people said because they felt threatened by him. They were frightened and faced with a particular unease, unable to explain what it was. It gripped them and wouldn’t let them look away. You felt it too. But it didn’t scare you away, it only drew you closer, didn’t it?

Before you fell further into your thoughts, agitated demands for the Batman to turn himself in echoed through the room as Dent’s speech failed to bring any sense of righteousness to the crowd of cops and reporters.

“So be it. Take the Batman into custody.”

Everyone fell silent, waiting for the vigilante to step forward. Was that really about to happen? But Harvey waited only a moment before he stated to the crowd, “I am the Batman.”

Disbelief settled over the room, everyone watching as a few officers approached him to put him in handcuffs and swiftly lead him off of the stage. Then the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as a deep chuckle resounded in your ear.

“Ahhh, well there you have it. Now Harvey wants to play.”

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

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#heath ledger joker #the dark knight #tdk joker #ledger!joker #ledger joker fic #joker fanfiction #ledger joker x reader #joker x you #self insert #angst

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littlenekosfan · 4 years ago

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Since no one else asked... Do the boys for the ask meme too uwu There is never too much Bazz and Jugram <3

oh BOY we are here for a fun ride :)

1. Favorite thing about them

that is a rather complicated question since it's so open... hm, lets go about what i like about their character

bazz, his passion, i love that fire he has in his heart, so bright you can see it shine in his eyes, in everything he does.. passionate people are the ones i love to hear the most about, their engagement and enthusiasm always inspires me even if i dont relate, you can tell im a person of love haha, its my most important value and he has no shame in showing that, he always smiles and have that confidence, and still feel like a relatable character, down to earth, and i really love that

jugram is a little harder to love given his... cold persona (no being hot wont count here) but there is something that makes me fall for him and its his unconditional love... he isnt really open about the concept of love, and he very much has his own interpretation of it, where he keeps hiding what it truly holds even to himself... while i dont like how he denies it, he never killed it, he never killed that flame in his heart even if it means it would hurt him in the future... his love for bazz is just beautiful to me, to love someone for all the goods and bad, from the past to the future, to love even if the ideas dont collide with yours... he cant let go bc he genuinely feels love, and im glad he kept it and accepted it despite it all

was that too fanon or vague ?? im probably talking to myself or i talk as if the person heard all my interpretation of these two... very specific, so i dont blame you if you dont get it

tbh there is so much to love, their story, their personality, their contrast, their relationship, their struggles etc etc, its just, SO much and its all so good..

2. Least favorite thing about them

ahh, i always try to see "what went wrong" with these two... while there is a lot of mistake there and there, which are human or misunderstandings, there is one thing that... kind of upsets me, its this

i know what you're going to say, naki you're not supposed to take it literally, but i think it is... the more i read it, the more it makes sense with how they acted in their separation, but has humans, its so.. out of touch... like, oh yeah, never talk about your traumas/struggles/feelings with your partner bc we understood eachother??? bro you've only known eachother for 6months and yall arent even adults....... no way they never talked about that but also, if they had, they wouldnt have had that break up....... anyways, what im saying is, its unrealistic and it actually irks me.........

3. Favorite line

"Don’t worry about what the grown-ups tell you, I’ll teach you everything you need to know, We're gonna become the strongest Quincies, Jugo"

"Ishida Uryu... you should go save your friends..."

both can get my crying in the club... the first one bc it touches me personally, and the second bc... juazz feelings

4. brOTP

jugram: lille, askin, his aide (also aizen ???)

bazz: haha.... who even wants to be friend with him, actually i want to... askin.

bonus with juazz+ichiishi !!!!!! i love that combination sm

5. OTP

ill just list my ships with involving: juazz, juazzbert, jubert, hubazz, baskin

6. nOTP

juhasch....... and lowkey bazzren/jugishi

7. Random HC

well... how about one headcanon of them by age slice

as kids, bazz was jugram's sunshine, too bright sometimes haha, jugram had to take a lot of time to adjust to bazz' energy bc while being cocky and.. arrogant, he's very nice, and he can see that, sometimes it would wear him off since he's not that great, but bazz is too good of an observer, he would quickly notice it and cheer jugram up.. a little hard duo, but they are both trying their best

as teens, they say they are stuck in the forest training but that would require a nice little house wouldnt it? minimum furniture since it's too hard to get some (ahem, sleeping in the same bed for some heat nyehe) but also, that's basically a domestic au lmao but yeah, cooking, doing laundy, bathing.... all stuff together :) i like the idea of bazz being the only one being able to read and jugram learns from him? he takes so much interest that he keeps a journal about their journey or discoveries... bazz too, but not as much... he's too busy being disliked by the neighbor city jfghdfg

young adults/prewar. oh... oh boy, that one i actually need to dev about it with scenarios and my personal hcs but ill go with a ns//fw bc why not :) while they dont talk nor get along well.. like, at all, that doesnt stop them from being... touchy, it wouldnt romantic or anything "reciprocal" (as in, its more selfish/out of impulse then doing *with* the other) but there is def some yearning... lots LOTS of it.. they would kinda regret doing it bc its not right, but they just cant help it...

post war, this one can be very very open and wide, but rebuilding what was lost brings some reconciliation... not fully, but the gap is less... awkward, so they can now talk to eachother without that weird tension, bazz would love teasing jugram but it would always end up falling on his own head fjghdfg,.. there is some up and downs during that time ofc, but no tension like it used to be, they would have some casual talks... too casual that askin can easily pick up how they have history fgjkkfgh

i actually have a lot of hc, such as their physical appearance, their little perks and ofc, their angst... its hard to dev when im just given one random hc fgmjdfg i either end up with scenarios or interpretation rip legit i can make a post of the same length about their hair.. THEIR HAIR.....help

8. Unpopular opinion

i have no shame to blame the very badly received ending of bleach to juazz unpopularity... also ppl considering them as villains, for some reason, yet arrancars gets lots of love and attention but not ritters?? maybe bc of the anime but still?? most ppl in the fandom read tybw now...... sigh..... also, if you dont think romance is possible between them, ill call you homophobe on sight (idm ppl who prefers it platonic, but if you think it "ruins" their relationship, you are so off the grid pal)

also, they are one of the best written characters in the whole series but nobody wants to dig as far as i did.......

and very very hot take but..... you cant have jugram or bazz as a fav if you dislike the other, not sorry

9. Favorite picture of them

and of course

#jugram haschwalth #bazz b #believe it or not. i got interrupted while writing this bc i could hear my cat chasing a rabbit so i ran outside half dressed at 4am...#she's such a bitch #AND NOW ITS 5AM AND I STILL WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM........#it was a nice ask tho. i really enjoyed it hehe #ty sm ivy <333 #please if im not clear or want more dev about something. just dm fgjhdfg #i easily digress or mention things i feel like ppl already know about when they dont.........#oh well #shut up naki

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neerasrealm · 5 years ago

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Porridge and Panic

Fun fact, this is a complete rewrite of my first ever creepypasta fanfic. This story focuses on Slender and EJ meeting for the first time, and is based on my hc that EJ formerly worked for Zalgo. Warning for some swearing and jokes about murder if you’re not into that.

Word count: 2000

"Just go do this job for me," Zalgo had said. "It's only a small gathering, you can take it." He'd said.

That "small gathering" ended up being a CULT MEETING with TWENTY SEVEN PEOPLE.

Fighting off twenty seven people at once is not an easy task. Even if you're a demon like Eyeless Jack.

Sure he’s strong, but he's not a fighter. He went to college to be a doctor for god's sake! And he's definitely not immune to knives. Being stabbed hurts. Like- a lot. A lot a lot. But that's not important. What is important is getting away from the murder scene. He'd managed to find a first aid kit earlier and patch himself up, thank god. What he really needed now was rest. Of course, he couldn't do that. He'd just killed twenty seven people. He'd managed to limp into the nearby woods and-

"Shit!"

Aaand fall over a tree root. Great job. With a groan he rolled onto his stomach, burying his face, or rather his mask, into the cool, damp grass. He curled his hands into fists, gripping the grass. It felt soft and cold, which was nice, considering his pounding head.

He closed his eyes, or rather his eyelids- he didn't have eyes, not anymore- and proceeded to doze off to sleep in the grass.

When he awoke, he wasn't in the grass anymore. He grunted and rubbed his face against the soft pillow. A pillow- he was in a bed. He relaxed. Zalgo must've found him, or maybe Jason had been sent to grab him. He was fully prepared to fall asleep again when he realized something.

It was quiet. Far, far too quiet. Zalgo's realm always had some kind of noise in the distance, be it wailing, grinding or even screaming, but this room? Completely quiet. Come to think of it- the smell of sulfur wasn't present either.

Just to confirm Jack's suspicions, a bird chirped outside. The only birds found in Zalgo's realm were the mechanical ones Jason made, or leftover KFC.

He was about to open his eyes when he heard the door to the room open. He kept them closed, not wanting the person to know he was awake. Not yet.

He heard them walk closer and place something down on a nearby surface. He could smell something- it took him a few moments to recognize the smell. Porridge. God he'd loved the stuff growing up-

Maybe it was his mom that had put him here. That'd be a twist.

"‘Ow is 'e doin'?"

WELL THAT'S A VOICE HE WASN'T EXPECTING- it had an extraordinarily thick cockney accent, and was deep and gravelly. The voice's owner was surely intimidating to look at. Jack was suddenly glad he'd decided to play dead- or well- unconscious.

"He's still asleep." The second voice was closer to his bed, and much softer in tone. The voice's owner seemed kind, and friendly. These two were a stark contrast, it seemed. "He's either very smart or someone was with him. His wounds were all patched up when you brought him in."

"Ya fink 'e 'as a frien'?" The cockney voice got closer. Oh, the scary one had found him? So clearly they at least didn't plan to hurt him. Maybe.

"Perhaps. We'll return him home, if he has one." A hand ran through his brown hair. The touch was gentle, far more gentle than Jack was used to.

"Alrigh'." He felt someone sit on the end of the bed. "Sally was askin' fer 'im, worried abou' 'im."

"Why am I not surprised?" Jack could hear the smile in the kind one's voice. "She's a good girl…"

"Yeh." The person sitting on the bed, presumably the intimidating one, shifted where they sat. "I 'ope 'e's alrigh' too. 'E's only a kiddo."

"He's fully grown, Jack." Jack! The intimidating one had a name! And- it was the same as his. Heh. What a coincidence.

"Everyone's a basin a' gravy when ye're two 'undred." Jack, the other Jack, replied with a tone of amusement. What- what the fuck does that mean- basin of...gravy? Two hundred? What?

"I hate how well I understand you." The other person replied bluntly.

"Aw no, ye loooove me."

"...If I find out our guest heard you say that you'll be in big trouble." The other was firm now, but there was fondness in their voice.

"Oh will I now~?" The cockney Jack replied before Eyeless Jack heard a light slapping noise. "Ow-!" Cockney Jack laughed lightly and stood up off the bed. "Alrigh', alrigh', I'll stop." He could hear the cheesy grin in the other Jack's voice. "Call me if ya need me, ya 'ear?"

"I will."

Once he heard the door close Jack listened intently for the other person. They didn't seem to be moving. Maybe they-

A hand came down and ran through his hair again. Despite himself, Jack relaxed. He wasn't used to being touched so- gently, but he loved it. He felt safe, strangely. Slowly, he opened his eyes and took in the room. He was indeed on a bed. On the bedside table in front of him was a clock, a glass of...something, he wasn't sure due to his vision being completely black and white, and the person- Jack could only see their legs, but they were wearing a frilly apron.

"Hello?" The person said. Their hand withdrew from his hair. "Are you awake?"

Jack grunted and stretched, trying to wake up his aching body. He rolled himself onto his back and sat up. The person by the bed placed pillows behind him to rest against.

"How do you feel?" The person asked. Jack blinked and finally looked up at him. Then froze. In an instant all the trust he'd built for this person was replaced with utter terror.

He knew them, or rather him, in an instant. White skin, no face, tall- well he was actually far shorter than Jack had expected but maybe that was because he was a shapeshifter and the room wasn't tall enough but still! He knew him.

Slenderman. Zalgo's biggest nemesis. The one Jack had been told to attack on sight, should he ever encounter him. He'd heard stories of Slender. About his 'home', the children he kept prisoner, his lackey Laughing Ja- that was the cockney voice!

Which meant Jack was in Slender's home. With the rest of his proxies. And if Slender, or anyone else for that matter, learned that he worked for Zalgo, he'd be dead. Immediately. Super dead. Deader than a dinosaur.

"Fuck-" was the only word Jack could say. His voice was hoarse and full of the terror he should probably be hiding.

Slender seemed caught off guard for a moment. Suppressing the instinct to scold Jack for that, he cleared his throat. "I mean you no harm," he said. "I- realise my appearance may be unsettling but I assure you I don't have any ill intentions."

Jack gulped. That was at least a little reassuring, knowing Slender didn't intend to hurt him for now. Slender tilted his head.

"Might I ask for your name...?" He asked softly.

Jack panicked for a moment. His name could potentially have it click that he was Zalgo's minion right? He realised Slender was still watching him. "Greg." He blurted out of panic. Ah, his old roommate, the perfect alias.

Fucking hell he's going to die here isn't he?

"Greg, I see," Slender seemed to smile despite his lack of a face. He grabbed a tray Jack hadn't noticed before from the bedside table. The bowl and glass were on the tray, which had legs that fell down when Slender lifted it. The tray was gently placed over Jack's lap. "I'm sure you're probably hungry, so I made you some porridge. Unless you'd rather something else?"

Jack was not about to make any requests. He felt as if any word he spoke would give away his identity. He shook his head. Slender nodded.

"Well you eat up, I'll be back in a minute, alright? Do you need anything?" The faceless cryptid asked. He was nice, almost too nice, and it unsettled Jack even more. He shook his head again and watched Slender leave.

Immediately Jack looked at the window in the room. An escape! He quickly moved the tray and tried to climb out of the bed, only to wince in pain the second he put pressure on his leg. Fuck, of course he'd been stabbed in the calf, of course he had! He limped weakly to the window and-

He was on the second floor, at least. There was only a drop to meet him. And he was definitely in no condition to jump out a window. "This is bad, this is bad, this is bad-" he buried his face in his hands, panicking. Too injured to escape via window, on thin, thin ice with Slender…

And the smell of porridge was too good to dismiss. Resignedly, he limped back to the bed and grabbed the glass and took a couple gulps from it. Good old fashioned water. Good to know. He grabbed the bowl of porridge and ate a spoonful. Then winced.

His tastebuds had long since been altered along with the rest of his body. Anything that wasn't meat tasted way different than it should've. The porridge tasted way blander than it already was, and the small hints of honey were more tangy than sweet.

He still ate the entire thing within two minutes though because he was starving. Then again he was always hungry.

Just as he was drinking down the rest of the water, Slender opened the door again. He'd removed his apron now and was looking...oddly casual. He wore a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which was odd considering Jack had been told the man practically lived in a suit.

"Ah, you've finished." Slender seemed pleased. He moved towards the bed and sat on the edge of it. "Can I get you anything else?" He asked, looking at Jack, who shook his head. "Alright," Slender adjusted his tie. "I'd like to ask you a few things, Greg, if that's alright."

Jack hesitated for a moment before answering. "Go ahead."

"How did you get injured?"

Okay, right off the bat he has to answer a question that'll require a teeny lie. "Got into a fight. People don't really uh- like seeing demons around their home y'know-" that was mostly the truth! He did get into a fight, and those people definitely didn't like seeing him!

"That's what you are then, a demon?"

"Y-Yes, I uh- I'm not evil if that's what you're thinking. I don't really like fights and stuff-" I mean- it's true he doesn't like fights, and Jack wouldn't describe himself as malicious. He only killed people when Zalgo told him to or when they wouldn't just quietly succumb to a concussion and allow their kidney to be stolen. He wasn't an evil person.

"I understand," Slender seemed to smile. "You seem like a good person."

Hah. Yeah. Good person. Definitely not the reincarnation of a godlike demon that works for another godlike demon.

"And how old are you?"

"Uh- twenty one, I think. I could be off but- y'know-"

"Ah, I see." Slender seemed almost pleased for some reason. "Do you have a home?" He asked.

"Yeah- kinda I- have a place to go to but I wander a lot." Jack shifted uncomfortably at the question.

"I see." Slender seemed thoughtful for a few moments. "Is there anything you need?" He asked for what must've been the third time. Jack, again, shook his head.

"I think I just need rest." He said. Slender nodded and stood up, grabbing the tray from beside Jack.

"Alright," he said softly. "Call if you need me alright?"

"I will." Jack replied. With that Slender left the room. Jack slumped against the pillows behind him and sighed out. "Fucking hell…"

#creepypasta #writing #eyeless jack #slenderman #slender mansion #laughing jack #creepypasta fanfiction

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highkehigh · 4 years ago

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first post

shit where to begin? thought this would be a cool way of expressing whatever comes to my mind as an outlet which i was doin back in 2010-2013 or something like that. & i was just reading some of the things i had on there and it’s crazy af to think that i was writin these paragraphs at 11-14 spittin straight facts but NEVER followin my own damn advice. i always understood feelins, just never mine. it took me dummy long to finally get where i am today and i am not proud of where i stand yet, but ima make it & get to the place i wanna be. plus the confident person i am today is the person i’ve always worked so hard to become. now shit was hard af & hella downs along the way, but im here to say that those UGLY ASS DAYS/WEEKS/MONTHS/YEARS of hell will continue to try and bring ya down, but im sayin don’t give up and never take the easy road. as easy as it comes, its finna leave just as easy. great things take time, you may not understand things in the moment & question why me? instead try changin the perspective and start askin yourself what can i do now? & whatever comes in ya head determine whether if it’s helpful/productive thoughts or is it anxiety gettin the better of ya? remember to breathe and take ya time comin back to answer those questions, cause ya wanna be in a clear head space and really think bout that answer. you could even ask ya self am i okay right now at this very moment? in the present moment what’s infront of you and what are you doin? try to take that extra energy worryin/stressin bout the next thing that finna fuck ya up into productive energy to how ya get ya self outta it. just remember the most important thing from this, is to stop dwellin in the past when ya livin in the present. we as humans sometimes get so caught up with our own world/head that we forget to breathe and just be an observer in the present moment, with no opinions, no past judgements, just breathe and appreciate the beauty around ya. have an appreciation for every single energy takin up space on this earth and try to go the beyond the mind and pay close attention to the feelin of fully present into current moment/the now.

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randomfandomfamily · 4 years ago

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Im tryin to learn how to write fanfic for the first time and your fics are one of the big inspirations for me. Do u have any tips on balancing dialouge vs focusing on the character's thoughts and feelings? Cause ive done like 4k words and maybe 7 lines of dialouge oops-

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Yo, congrats on starting your first fanfiction! 3,000 - 4,000 words is the average chapter length for novels, so you are definitely off to a fantastic start.

As for advice? Shoot, dunno why you’re askin’ this dumbass, but I’ll try.

I recommend taking the following advice with a grain of salt. I am by no means a professional, and it’s very rare that I actually know what I’m doing. The universe nerfed me by taking away the ability to form a coherent thought. Nerf or nothing, baby.

Getting off track here, but you know what I mean.

Anyhow! I hate writing advice that doesn’t provide examples, so I’m providing some, and that means this ended up a little longer than I meant it to be, so your answer is gonna be under the cut there, Mx. Anon!

Probably the most important thing to remember is that all of your characters are going to have different, and sometimes conflicting, speech patterns. Speech patterns always have some form of thought process behind them, though, so you can start your dialogue to thought balance there.

(warning: sentences written by a dumb bitch ahead.)

For example, a person who speaks on impulse might talk faster than they think. Backtrack their statements a little to balance the thoughts to the dialogue:

Fast thought, blurted comment, realization, amendment.

- The black and white pattern on the dress reminded him of his grandparent’s farm. “Looks a bit like a cow,” he said. At her affronted expression, he quickly explained, “The dress! Not you. The dress looks a bit like a cow, with the white and the black spots.”

Absent thought, repeat thought out loud, confronted by confused conversation partner, explains thought process.

- “I think you might be a ferret,” they informed their friend.

She raised an eyebrow at them. “Okay? Am I supposed to know what that means or...?”

“You said the pandemic is hard because you can’t see your friends as often, right? And when you get ferrets, you have to get at least two of them, because if you just get one then it’ll be lonely and depressed and sad.” They shrugged. “Kinda sounds like you.”

Whereas a person who’s more careful about what they say might take longer to respond. It might not look as balanced, thought to dialogue, but showing the character’s process behind the thought makes the dialogue meaningful enough that it’s not necessary for them to talk as much:

Careful consideration, picked a thought, analyzed it, (filler words! “Hm/Um/Uh.” “Let me think” “Well...”) decided it wasn’t worth mentioning/not interesting enough/etc., new thought, analyze it, comment.

- “Would you rather go to the bottom of the ocean, or to the edge of space?”

She tilted her head at the question. “Hm...” On the one hand, the vastness of space, and on the other hand, the unknowable depth of the ocean. Both intriguing and terrifying in their own ways. “You know, I’m not really sure.” She considered the possibility of something going wrong in either place. “The ocean, I guess,” she decided. “Then if something happened to me, I’d still be- you know, on Earth.”

Now your character has thoughts and dialogue. Now, not every thought your characters have needs to be spelled out with dialogue (otherwise your story could be lengthy), and not every piece of dialogue needs to be profound or have a thought process behind it.

Sometimes humans say dumb things! And that’s okay! I can implant thoughts into your brain by using the muscles I have in my throat to wiggle air, and that is a power I refuse to use responsibly.

-“The corn-dogs you buy in the freezer section at Walmart are popsicles until you cook them, and then they are kebabs.”

And now you have to think about that. Any point to what I just said? Nope. Did I provide any thought process? Absolutely not. It’s probably factually incorrect, but it’s a conversation starter, for sure. Sometimes people talk to each other Like That, and it’s okay to have those kinds of dialogue in your story, just scattered about.

Not everything has to be meaningful. Don’t focus so much on ‘perfect’ or ‘balanced’ dialogue. Don’t be afraid to let your character be a little human. Trip over words. Zone out for a few seconds. Forget what they were going to say.

But in all honesty, talking is not the end all be all of communication. There are plenty of perfectly realistic ways to get your character’s point across without them speaking, so never be afraid of having small amounts of dialogue in your stories.

Okay, I’m done being a rambly bastard. I hope that helps, and I’m sorry if it doesn’t, and I’m also sorry that this got so fucking long, jeezus cripes. I’ve never given writing advice before, and I’m honored that you came to me. You made my entire week, Mx. Anon, thank you so much ❤

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defeatedbyamerechild · 5 years ago

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How Guzma and Cyrus became close friends

(The following scene takes place in Giovanni’s mansion, a few months after the Villains had moved in to that place, and therefore happens previously to the moment depicted in our comics.)

-------

It's around 3PM, Giovanni is in his office, Archie and Maxie left for a walk and Lusamine is knitting in the backyard with her Pokémon. Lysandre is in his room recording a make up tutorial and no one knows where Ghetsis is, but no one really cares much. Cyrus has just finished sweeping the floor. He enters the living room to find Guzma lying on the couch, reading his diary.

CYRUS – Guzma! What the... What are you doing with my diary?!

Cyrus quickly approaches Guzma and tries to grab the diary from his hands, but Guzma dodges him.

GUZMA – Yo, Relax, Cy-boy! I was just takin' a look! Nothin' much, just readin' a bit of it!

CYRUS – [angry, but trying to hide it] Well, “a bit of it” is already too much! It's a diary, that means it's personal Therefore, you shouldn't be reading any of it. Now give it back to me!

GUZMA – Sheesh... [gives him the diary] Here, don't be so friggin' anxious, dude! What's the matter with sharin' your secrets with a friend after all? Are you hidin' anythin'? [giggles]

CYRUS – [still annoyed] No! The matter is that I did not choose to share anything with you. You just went and... started meddling in my personal stuff. Which I very much disapprove, if you allow me to add!

GUZMA – Tsc... Meh. Chill! Not doin' it again, if it bothers ya that much! [He winks at Cyrus, smiling].

CYRUS – [in a rather sarcastic way] Thanks for that, although I do not believe you...

Cyrus sits on the couch one seat away from where Guzma is. Hugging his diary against his chest, he wonders what Guzma could have read from it. There's a brief silence.

GUZMA – Yo...

Cyrus glances at him, a little bit apprehensive, for his housemate might bring up something from his diary.

GUZMA – Y'know, I was just... thinkin'... Cause, like... You wrote there tha-[Cyrus interrupts him.]

CYRUS – I do not want to discuss anything I wrote. It's personal. And it's already bothersome enough to know that you read it, so please spare me the embarrassment of further explaining whatever it is you want to comment on...

GUZMA – Aw, c'mon, dude! Don't be like that!

CYRUS – Like what?

GUZMA – Like... y'know... Carin' so much about this and all!

CYRUS – [sarcastic] You mean having dignity?

GUZMA – [chuckles] You're so dramatic, bro...

Brief silence. Guzma stretches his arms and legs, trying to look as casual as possible before resuming his speech.

GUZMA – [with a carefree intonation] Anyways! You wrote it there that no one cares about ya, and, like... Dude, that's a pretty rough thing to say 'bout yourself, ey? [giggles]

Cyrus clenches his jaw and stares at his own feet, embarrassed and upset.

GUZMA – Tsc... Like, c'mon, why all that drama? Who broke your heart, eh? [giggles] You can tell ya old boy Guzma here!

CYRUS – [looking up at him] Sigh... Don't turn that into some romantic gibberish, Guzma! It has nothing to do with that.

GUZMA – Yeah? Right, whatever. Still somethin' must have happen'd if you feel like that. So! Who hurt ya?

CYRUS – [Looking away] Why are you asking me that? Why does it matter to you?

GUZMA – Meh. Dunno, dude. I'm curious. Also, like... That's not true.

CYRUS – What is not true?

GUZMA – That no one cares 'bout ya! Like, I do, for example! That's why I'm askin'! Makes sense, right?

CYRUS – [snorts sarcastically] Right.

GUZMA – I mean it, bro! I'm here for ya! [winks again] Now, go on! Tell me about those feels, I know you wanna talk about it!

CYRUS – [out of patience, very emphatic] No, you do not. How would you know that?

GUZMA – [still smiling, folding his arms behind his head] 'Cause why else would'ya write it in your diary? You feel like tellin' someone! That means you need to talk! [winks for the third time]

CYRUS – [looking away, trying to hide his amazement at Guzma's perceptive mind.] Well, even if that were the truth, this conversation is useless. You should know what hurt me by now, if you read my diary.

GUZMA – Yeah, true, but... I didn't read, like... all of it, y'know? As I told ya! I was just readin' a bit of it! 'Cause, y'know, I'm not that much of a passionate reader, like... [giggles] When you start with those huge chunks of text I just skip ‘em! I only read some short parts and that's all!

CYRUS – [not amused] Hm.

Cyrus glances around, discreetly checking if there's anyone else near. He then glances at Guzma, who is still smiling, as if nothing had happened. He sighs. He knows Guzma will not give up on his curiosity.

CYRUS – OK, so you want to know who hurt me? My parents did. That's all. Happy?

GUZMA – [stops smiling and tilts his head to the right] Ya parents? Yo, really?

Guzma scratches his chin, as he sits up on the couch.

GUZMA – Dude, that's somethin'... Like, I know how that feels! My old man was also a real son of a Jynx, y'know? Like, real mean AF!

CYRUS – Oh. [frowns] I thought you said you had been raised in a sewer, by Raticates.

Guzma briefly widens his eyes and stops smiling, but soon goes back to his previous expression.

GUZMA – [giggling, trying to hide his awkwardness and make something up quickly] Eh, yeah but, like... He was a mean Raticate! Totally savage, like, real bad parentin'! Like Ghetsis, y'know?! [thinks for a second and corrects himself] Uh... Actually, no, not that bad. No one's bad like Ghetsis as a parent! Even a Raticate is better.

CYRUS – Ugh. Please do not involve Ghetsis in this conversation, he is the last person I would like to think of now... or ever.

GUZMA – [laughing] Heh! So you also hate old Ghetsis, ey?

CYRUS – I do not “hate”. Feelings are irrational and useless. I hate no one.

GUZMA – [smiling maliciously] Dunno, bro, you seemed to have a fistful of feelings to write about in your diary!

CYRUS – [keeping a straight face, but blushing] I don't know what you're talking about. [brief pause] But I guess I do prefer to keep my distance from Ghetsis.

GUZMA – Yeah, same. I dead serious hate that dude!

CYRUS – Why?

GUZMA – [Amazed] Dude, why?! Like, why would anyone not hate 'im?

CYRUS – [nodding] Point taken. Still, I do not see personal reasons for you to dislike him. Most of the time, he seems to ignore your presence.

GUZMA – Yeah, but dude's a big old friggin' stinky wild hog, like, what's wrong with that dude? He's a son of a Jynx who treats everyone like they're Pidgey poop! I don't need no personal reasons to dislike a guy like that!

CYRUS – That's fair enough.

GUZMA – Yeah, that dude doesn't care 'bout anyone but himself, that's a fact. [brief pause] And talkin' about “carin'”, let's go back to the main point here...

CYRUS – Sigh...

GUZMA – That is... You feel broken!

CYRUS – [offended] I don't- I never put it on those words! Actually, you're definitely over-interpreting things right now...

GUZMA – [Ignoring his protests] Why'dya feel like no one cares about you? [giggling] Do you feel needy or...?

CYRUS – [irrtated] Are you making fun of me?

GUZMA – [Skipping a seat on the couch to sit by Cyrus' side] Nah. I mean it for real. Why do you feel like that?

CYRUS – [annoyed again] Well, I thought it was pretty self-explanatory that when I said “no once cares”, I meant that I think other people don't give a flip about how I feel! Or about whether or not I'm even alive! [Guzma stares silently for a while and Cyrus blushes a bit, then takes a deep breath] I don't feel... appreciated. That's it.

GUZMA – [Suddenly more serious] Hm... That's rough...

CYRUS – [Slightly ashamed] Look, I only write about those things in my diary because my therapist says it will help me understand myself, all right? Please, stop making a big deal out of it. It's not. It's nothing important.

GUZMA – Dude, like... I ain't the one makin' a big deal out of it...

Cyrus widens his eyes a little again.

GUZMA – Like... I'm just talkin' about it 'cause it's not, y'know... normal? I mean, to feel that way, y'know? But I'm just chattin', like, casual talk! I ain't making a big deal outta anything! You're the one who's makin' big deal out of it, as if talkin' about that was a problem... Like, what's wrong with just talkin' about it?

Cyrus looks away.

GUZMA – Wanna know what? I've felt like that before. I'ma be honest with ya, Cyrus, I've felt like that too in the past! I mean, livin' in the streets is not that easy sometimes, y'know? And when you ain't got nothin' and people just walk by and pretend they don't even see ya, how do you think you're gonna feel?

Cyrus keeps looking to the other side.

GUZMA – But then, like... You end up findin' people who care! Like, I founded my team, made my friends, everythin' was all right! And screw the rest! So, like... Screw your parents, and Ghetsis and all of those Fudge-brained jerks like him! Life goes on and stuff. Things change. Time passes... Y'know?

CYURS – [looking at him with the corner of his eyes] Yeah, I suppose time doesn't usually just stop flowing in our dimension. Any other generic piece of advice?

GUZMA – [chuckles] Quite a sense of humor, eh, Cy-boy?

CYRUS – I don't have a sense of humor. What's the point of humor anyway?

GUZMA – Well, havin' fun!

CYRUS – What for?

GUZMA – Dude... like... for fun? [laughs] The heck of a question is that? There's no point! It just feels good!

CYRUS – Feeling good is just temporary. It will go away and you'll feel bad again later.

GUZMA – Which is just as temporary, 'cause you'll eventually feel good again! And so it goes! Ups and downs! Am I right? So instead of thinkin' about all that until you get a headache, why not just livin' your life?

CYRUS – The amount of cliches is gonna give me a headache, to be honest. What are you, a walking self-help book?

Guzma bursts into a sincere laughter, leaving Cyrus slightly surprised.

GUZMA – Now that's a better mood! See, you do have a sense of humor, it's just kinda acid! I like that! [giggles] Yeah I like that...

Cyrus stifles a chuckle and looks away again.

GUZMA – I saw that!

CYRUS – [Looking back at Guzma] What?

GUZMA – You smiled!

CYRUS – Must have been your imagination.

GUZMA – [chuckles] Right. [not that brief silence] But welp. Just to finish what I was sayin'. You had your share of pain in the past, like, you been hurt, I've been hurt, we all been hurt, 'K? Some more than the others, but...

CYRUS – You really don't give up on the cliches, do you?

GUZMA – Shush, let me finish! You had a rough past! OK! But that's over, dude. Look at us! We're livin' with friggin' Mr. Mafia Boss Giovanni here! I mean, dude's rich. Dude's above the law. Dude's nice. Kinda short-fused, I gotta say, but still nice! We got this big old house here... Free food... What else could we ask for, ey?

CYRUS – Aren't you deviating a bit from the topic?

GUZMA – Nah, I mean it! We're all livin' here now! And life here is good, is that not right? and like... You'll never see your parents again! Screw them! They're in the past!

CYRUS – They've been in the past for a long for me. This is not a problem anymore.

GUZMA – You were the one who brought up your parents...

CYRUS – Because you insisted on asking me about my wounds! But it's been a long time I haven't cared about my parents, and I don't intend to change that.

GUZMA – Yeah! Great! And now you've got a buncha people livin' with ya who are totally not like them! Like me and Maxie and Archie and Lusie and Lysandre... I mean. OK. Let's be honest, no one is like Lysandre, right? But still, we're all different from your parents! Just 'cause they made you feel like trash when you lived with them, that doesn't mean we all think you're trash too!

CYRUS – I'm not trash.

GUZMA – Yeah, that's the spirit, bro!

CYRUS – I-... OK. Whatever. Your point is...?

GUZMA – My point? [giggles] Dunno. Stop being an emo prick?

CYRUS – [rather offended] Well, I can be a caustic prick, since you prefer it.

GUZMA – [with a malicious smile once again] Nice, I love caustic humor! Then we kill two birds with one stone: you get your appreciation and I don't get none of your gloomy drama anymore!

CYRUS – What?! You frickin-... I'm not making any drama, you brought this up yourself! I didn't even want to talk about it!

Guzma laughs a bit and then taps Cyrus' back, making him a little bit uncomfortable.

GUZMA – Just jokin', bro! Relax!

Cyrus crosses his arms and looks away once again, slightly grumpy. Guzma quickly grabs his diary.

CYRUS – [turning back at Guzma and trying to grab the diary] Hey!

GUZMA – Now let me just add somethin' here!

CYRUS – [Still trying to get the diary back] What?! Guzma!

GUZMA – [writing with a pencil while dodging Cyrus] And... Here... we... go!

Guzma finishes writing and gives Cyrus his diary, which he grabs rather aggressively and immediately opens, searching for whatever Guzma wrote.

CYRUS – What have you written here?

Cyrus gets to his last entry. At the bottom of the page he finds Guzma's handwriting. It reads “Guzma slaps!”.

CYRUS – [sarcastic] How touching.

GUZMA – What? Disappointed? Didya expect a somethin' mallow like “we all wove you, Cywus! Pwease don't feel wejected anymowe!” [laughs].

CYRUS – [Closing his diary and rolling his eyes] Shut up...

GUZMA – Welp. Hope to see some more cheerful stuff next time I grab your diary!

CYRUS – Next time?! [Guzma ignores him]

GUZMA – [stands up] I'm off now. Gonna meet Plum for a beer! But, hey, let's do somethin' together any day, how 'bout that, ey, Cy-boy?

CYRUS – [rather lost] Uh... I...

GUZMA – Do you play chess?

CYRUS – Uh... Y-yes. I do.

GUZMA – Thought so! Let's play a game of chess tomorrow then! Deal?!

CYRUS – Well... I can't see why not.

GUZMA – Nice! [taps his shoulder and leaves, then stops and turns back, giving him finger guns and winking once again] See ya, bro!

Guzma leaves. Cyrus remains sitting on the couch, silent. He opens the diary again and stares at the bottom of his last entry for a few seconds. He grabs a pen and starts writing.

“Dear diary. Something rather peculiar just happened: I think I just made a friend... … That does not mean I give you permission to read my diary, Guzma. Close it. Now.”

------ (Scene by GabiWaffle)

#DBAMCWrittenScenes #Skull Boss Guzma #galactic boss cyrus

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messedupessy · 5 years ago

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Bb! Bby! My sexy neighbor! I'd love to see the writing prompt no. 2 with Seaswap bois. :>c Good ol brother shenanigans are a rarity and it would be cool to see this with my fave pirates!

Ahhh finally after weeks it’s finally done gknrengjek UwU ❤ sorry for the wait Gasty bb seems like I ended up with a bit of a burnout or something, but hey I finished it at last so here ya go enjoy :D wrote like most of it today and it turned out pretty good yes

Also translations of Pass’s accent will be at the end ye

Shut Up and Catch Me

Relationship: None, just bros

Warnings: Minor panic attack but otherwise none

Prompt: “Quit asking how I got stuck up here and just catch me.”

Summary: Don't question how an explosion could make him fly off of a building.

AO3

This was not how he thought his day would go.

Like, Boney was used to be in dangerous situations, it was kinda part of the lives he and his brother led.

But his current predicament was a bit unusual to the usual dangerous situations he usually got into.

Because he was currently stuck, clinging for his dear life, onto a flag pole. After been literally blasted off of a building, don’t question how that was even possible. Since someone, no other than his brother of course, had gotten careless with his blasted explosives.

And he would have slid down the pole already if it wasn’t for the fact that his one boot had gotten stuck and all tangled up in the rope used to raise and lower the flag.

He could technically just slide his foot out of the boot or just cut the boot off, but there was no way he was going to cut them up to get free, they were some of his favourite boots and there was just no way he was ruining them or leaving it stuck up there!

He also refused to run around with only one boot that would just be stupid and he would look silly.

Which was why he was in the process of trying to untangle the mess of ropes his boot was stuck in, using a small knife he had pulled out of said boot to slowly but surely cut the surprisingly thick ropes while holding onto the pole with his other hand so he wouldn’t end up back dangling upside down with only the rope holding him up.

Letting out a small indignant sound of irritation, he kept on cutting into the rope carefully as to not accidentally cut and ruin his boot, worry growing inside of him as he kept hearing shouting from the slavers he and his brother had gone and visited and ended up fighting.

Like yes, he knew his brother was like a one man army, but that didn’t stop him from getting worried about his safety anyway even though he knew that his brother was more than capable of getting out of anything completely unscathed, especially since the people they were fighting was way more incompetent than usual.

After several more minutes of him fighting with the rope, so was he very close to just say screw it if his boot got ruined as his worry for his brother just grew, as his brothers safety was way more important than the safety of his boot and he let out a stream of curses in various languages that he knew because why was the rope giving him so much trouble it was ridiculous!

“PFTMWHEHEE BONAY?! HOU’D YE GIT UP THARE?!”

An all too familiar booming, and laughing, voice cut Boney off from his string of curses, making him quickly look down to the ground and lo and behold there was his brother, looking as bright and lively as always with no visible injury he could discern from where he was at, which made him breathe out in relief.

“quit askin’ how i got stuck up here an’ just catch me!”, Boney shouted back down, with some irritation still left in his voice, as he then proceeded to finally succeed in cutting through the rope that was holding his prized boot, and himself, stuck on the pole, letting out a small sound in victory.

“AH AARICHT GIT YA!”, Pass replied grinning widely as he extended his arms out in preparation to catch his brother.

Boney grinned as he then pushed himself away from the pole and began his descent towards the ground, as he could just have slid down the pole to get down which he originally had intended to do, which technically would have been easier and much safer, but…

What was the fun in getting down if he couldn’t do it as dramatically as he could?

As he fell through the air, looking up at the night sky a intrusive flash of something he wish he could stop remembering flashed through his mind, the all too familiar scene of been surrounded by water as he quickly sank down into the depths of the ocean, his eyesight getting blurry as his lunges were filled with liquid.

He couldn’t breathe.

Boney barely noticed as he landed safely into his brother's arms with a soft thud, his brother laughing over his shenanigan, but which quickly stopped as Pass then looked at him in worry, feeling how his whole body was shaking in his arms as Boney kept his eyes shut.

“BONAY…? YE ARICHT?”, at the sound of his name Boney snapped out of it, his sockets opening wide while breathing in deeply as he caught his breath and looked into the face of his brother who was looking at him with concern.

“ye-yeah i’m good.”, he assured him, quickly making himself calm down and pushing what he just had experienced into the deepest reaches of his mind where it belonged.

He then, with his expression turning from minor panic to more of a pout, he gave Pass’s shoulder a small smack as he said chidingly. “but ye should really watch ye explosives…! me outfit almost got ruined thanks tha ya!”

“MWHEHEEHE YE KIN AYEWIS GIT FREISH ONES!”, Pass laughed, clearly deciding not to ask Boney what just happened which he was grateful for, even though he knew his brother most likely would try to bring it up later which he was so not looking forward to, since Boney just wanted to ignore it and pretend it never happened.

Before Boney had a chance to reply, a window shattered loudly behind them, alongside the familiar smell of smoke from something big burning and gunpowder.

“pass… what did ya do?”

“MWHEHEHEE WEILL…”, Pass chuckled, but before any more words escaped him the oh so ever familiar sound of a massive explosion been set off was heard loudly behind them.

Pass turned around towards the sound, so both of them got to watch as the large fancy mansion they had been in earlier, and which Boney had gotten blown off of to start with, get completely exploded apart with pieces of wood and other parts that made it up fly everywhere.

They stood there, or well Pass did as Boney was still in his arms, watching the now completely ruined building, debris and the remaining standing walls quickly catching fire while the still remaining and alive slavers kept shouting and screaming.

“… dunno why i’m even shocked.”, Boney eventually muttered with a deadpan, Pass letting out another laugh at his reaction. His brows suddenly furrowed as he asked. “ya did get what we went here tha get tho, right? ye didn’t jist go an’ blow tha place up before getting’ it?”

“NA NEED TAE WIRRIE BRUTHA, AH GIT THA THIN’ SAUFELY IN ME POCKET, YE KEN A NAW SUMPF!”, Pass immediately reassured him with a roll of his eyes, still smiling wide.

“aye, i know.”, Boney grinned in turn, he then wrapped his arms a bit tighter around his brother's neck, making sure he was secure in his hold. “anyway we been dallyin’ here fer tha long, let’s head to tha ship pass before tha survin’ guards finds us.”

“SHUIR THIN’!”, Pass grinned back, shifting his hold slightly on Boney before he began sprinting towards the ship, holding his brother securely in his arms while sounds of more explosives been set off and people screaming and shouting was heard here and there around them.

Translations:

“PFTMWHEHEE BONAY?! HOU’D YE GIT UP THARE?!” = "PFTMWHEHEE BONEY?! HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?!"

“AH AARICHT GIT YA!” = "AH ALL RIGHT GOT YOU!"

“BONAY…? YE ARICHT?” = "BONEY...? YOU ALL RIGHT?"

“MWHEHEEHE YE KIN AYEWIS GIT FREISH ONES!”= "MWHEHEEHE YOU CAN ALWAYS GET NEW ONES!"

“NA NEED TAE WIRRIE BRUTHA, AH GIT THA THIN’ SAUFELY IN ME POCKET, YE KEN A NAW SUMPF!” = "NO NEED TO WORRY BROTHER, I GOT THE THING SAFELY IN MY POCKET, YOU KNOW IM NOT STUPID!"

“SHUIR THIN’!” = "SURE THING!"

#undertale #seaswap #seaswap papyrus #seaswap sans #MessedUpEssy #underswap #Essy Answers #Essy's writings #long post #ahhhhhhhhhhhhh so happy to finally get this one done #now just got two more to go #gkjegrkjgrkjegekjegkjg #some parts i have to admit is a bit messy but its ok #so did not think I would finish this today tho #thought i was too tired #but nope i kicked tiredness in the behind and finished this #jnfkkjfwekjwfkjfwjk #so enjoy ye

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ilusionis · 5 years ago

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THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: vinn (or ila, for close friends) Age: 22 Contact: IM, discord

Character(s) I rp: aizen sosuke on here, askin nakk ke vaar (@ levaer) and lille barro (@ firstritter, sideblog) Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): all of them actually. Current Fandom(s): bleach. Fandom(s) you have an AU for: none. i’ve been debating about making a modern au but i wouldn’t be sure what to explore in it. within the context of bleach, though, i’m very interested in developing a bunch of AUs. My language(s): i’m only confident in writing in italian or english. Themes I’m interested in for rp: Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: none.

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?: YES / NO only by Mutuals?: YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?: YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?: YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?: 24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?: IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting: if you want to plot, it would be best to send me an IM and ask me, then we can definitely move to discord if you’d rather. it’s possible to approach me for rp without plotting first, best way would be to send me a meme when i reblog them or simply an ic ask, which i will answer, while memes might get lost. ic asks are good ice-breakers, we can continue plotting from there.

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner: i need my partners to be as interested in our plot as i am. it would be great if you already have an idea, but it’s still good if you don’t, i get that coming up with ideas can be hard sometimes; mostly, i require honesty. you can definitely tell me that you got no ideas and i will do my best to help, ask questions, try to spark something. i do require the feeling of having that commitment reciprocated.

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?: i tend to straight up drop the conversation lmao. no hard feelings, but if i get the feeling you’re not interested, i will take my distance - i won’t waste my energy on a plot if my partner doesn’t share my enthusiasm. still, you can always approach me again, if you’re feeling up to it / have new ideas / whatever. nice thing of online convos is that they don’t have an expiration date lol.

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?: i always ask if they got any ideas to begin with. if my partner already knows, more or less, what kind of dynamic they wanna build with my character(s), that makes it infinitely easier to build something meaningful. it’s still fine if they don’t, i will usually ask a lot of questions regarding their muse’s opinions / feelings / etc., and try to navigate from there. a question i usually ask is: is there any aspect of your muse you’d like to explore? i think that’s a pivotal point in any interaction.

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if they feel like telling me, why not. but usually, i don’t warn when i drop a thread, so it’s not expected of my partners ever. - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?: nothing in particular tbh. they can tell me or approach me to start a new thread if they wish to, but it’s not required.

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?: i might lose interest in a thread, especially if i feel like it’s going nowhere or if the inspiration for it simply doesn’t come. it’s never happened so far that i had to drop a thread because it was making me uncomfortable, but that could still be a reason for me to. in general, though, i would approach my partner in that case. - Will you tell your partner?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you? YES / NO. - And why?: absolutely. i’d rather avoid awkward situations or misunderstandings of any kind; if something’s up, tell me. i also like to communicate with my writing partners (be it in the tags of our threads or in IMs), makes me feel like the enthusiasm is not one-sided and i find it generally pleasant. - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?: sure. we gotta stay polite, but honest. - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way? YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?: to have fun, to cultivate my writing skills and my english, and to explore my favorite characters.

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios: i want to develop aizen’s wandenreich verse, because i’m deep in quincy hell and i think his dynamics with quincy muses could be super interesting. anything involving the intricacies of bleach politics is super interesting to me, be it with aizen or with my two quincy muses - who, btw, are also good to explore dynamics between quincies / their culture / relationships etc.

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore: i won’t write anything pertaining to sexual assault.

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: it’s gotten difficult to work with starters such as “you summoned me / do you need anything / did you call for me” etc. i used to receive that kind of starters all the time with aizen, and i can’t come up with something new every damn time. i also have a hard time working with starters / replies that already feel like a closed conversation and don’t give me anything to reply to.

What type of characters catch your interest the most?: i’m not sure i have a type. aizen is pretty much an exception, the only example of an already well-built character i write, since i tend to gravitate around minor ones that don’t have much material and that i can work on and expand without being affected by the fandom’s opinion or whatever. somehow i always tend to rp tall guys-

What type of characters catch your interest the least?: children and teenagers don’t interest me for the most part. characters who don’t have a shred of an opinion or can’t offer any interesting conflicts. overly friendly, mushy, affectionate and flowery characters are really not my cup of tea either.

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?: oh god i have no idea. i’m very laid-back, i guess. i’ll never pressure my partners for replies, i don’t think i’m owed a reply in the first place because we all have lives offline, so i’ll never take it to heart if a partner drops a thread. if i really feel like our roleplaying styles don’t mesh, it will be at my own discretion to do something about it. another strong aspect i have ....... i think i have a decent grasp on all my muses? especially aizen. of course ur free to disagree lol. also, lately i’ve been p active, so that’s it.

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: i’m really slow. i might speed up for my closest friends, with whom i plot / rp regularly, but usually i take quite some time to reply to random unplotted threads. i probably have a thousand other flaws as a rper, but this is the biggest one that comes to my mind rn.

Do you rp smut?: YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?: YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?: i don’t write detailed sex scenes. sorry lmao they’re just not interesting to me. however, i’m super-ok with writing anything around it, like intimate scenes etc. in fact i find it somewhat soothing. - Anything you would not want to rp there?: the nitty-gritty part is already a no, but i guess also sexual violence and shit like that. it’s a no.

Are ships important to you?: YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?: YES / NO. Do you use read more?: YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship — Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?: all my ships are with snow 8′) and ur never bored with her. in general, i love being able to explore the muses’ relationships, their conflicts and their peaceful moments, especially in relation to canon events! - What is your smut tag?: nsfw / ........ my n*sfw posts are rare anyway.

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: to an extent, i prefer pre-est relationships to first meetings - which they can get a bit dull after some time. i’m ok with mostly anything, and only more selective when it comes to relationships that might severely alter my muse’s canon / past / overall character.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?: not to stroke my own feathers but aizen offers a perfect chance at character development to any and all bleach characters. he’s the main villain, he holds some wild opinions, and whether you agree or disagree with him, he leaves no one indifferent. aizen is the main cornerstone of bleach, and if you want your muse to questions themselves and the system / world around them, interacting with him is the best way to start. also, aizen interacted with a fuckton of people, knows practically everything there is to know, is responsible for significant amount of canon events, so you see ... whatever character you write, aizen has the full potential to be extremely relevant in the course of their development.

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?: children, ordinary low-ranked shinigami (i find it hard when it’s out of the blue, even in aizen’s captain and lieutenant verses ... because interactions would likely be only work-related, and won’t go far), characters whose personalities really have nothing to do with aizen. unfortunately, he’s not my easiest muse, and i don’t want to force interactions with him. - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?: characters who have opinions, some political involvement, in general characters with whom aizen had a dynamic in canon.

- What interests your Muse(s) in general: reading, calligraphy, philosophy (especially in-world philosophy), science (again, mostly related to the specificity of the bleach universe), the very careful crafting of his plan- - What do they desire, is their goal?: kill the soul king and take its place, destroy the institutions of soul society, subdue them. and then rule, as the soul king never did before. - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?: the idiosyncracies in their behavior, the particularities, their possible weaknesses. - What do they value in a person?: very little, usually. he may appreciate a resolute personality, strength, and intelligence. - What themes do they like talking about?: speaking mostly of mundane talks, he likes conversing about his interests. it takes a lot for him to share any personal information, though. - Which themes bore them?: anything about the greater good, friendship, love, very human topics.

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?: seeing the soul king, in all things like a ghost stalking his dreams, and well ... spending his early life in rukongai as a whole. being forced to consume other souls in order to survive. the first times his reiatsu killed anyone who tried to get near him. - What could possibly trigger them?: it’s rare that he will outwardly show signs of distress, i’d say almost impossible. the few times the soul king still appears in his mind, greatly upsets him though. - What could set them off, enrage them?: the soul king gets him particularly heated. urahara, as we witnessed. after his defeat, ichigo, to an extent. - What could lead to an instant kill?: kubo was a coward who didn’t dare let him kill any relevant character, but actually aizen kills very liberally.

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?: the soul king, urahara. he has a strong disdain for yamamoto, and that joke of C46. - Is there someone /-thing they love?: himself. tousen

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?: he’s only really easy to approach for bleach characters, who, depending on who they are, have different eligible verses to further facilitate the interaction. humans / powerless bleach characters can’t really interact with him tho. - Where are they usually to find?: soul society or hueco mundo. i have a verse set in the wandenreich.

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?: aizen is not a particularly easy muse, but it’s part of his overall mosaic to be somewhat unapproachable and distant. i’m not out to make him someone he is not, so forgive me in advance if plotting with me turns out to be difficult in a way or another. he’s very dear to me, and i try my best to do him justice! while my main headcanons may not affect our interactions specifically, i still ask my partners to look them up (they’re linked in my about page) because they’re essential to my portrayal and it makes me happy to have them acknowledged. i think that’s all lmao. come visit me over at my quincy boys too.

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by: @skyvar I DID IT AT LAST. Tagging: i don’t know who has been tagged so, you know what to do.

#ooc.#whew #this took forever

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leonci2 · 6 years ago

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Log cabin, beard, Eviebot, Irish slang, college, Headphones, screw you Billy, Sleep is for the weak, Shadows of the collossus, Reading Your Comments, Cunt mug, Ryan Reynolds, Marvin’s mask, Mabel Sweather from Jse themed ask game :D

ok listen

listen

this is like the first formal serious ask i have on my mAIN blog so yea... im totally not freaking out

okay !! so, let’s do this-

log cabin : what’s the first video i saw on jack’s channel ?if i remember right, i think i watched sister location first, mainly because of anti’s appearances. i’ve always loved seeing creators interacting the way sean does with his community, so when i learned about this ‘antisepticeye’ i was like WOAh, give me more pls. i began watching the lore and boom ! here we are !

beard : what topic could i spend hours talking about ?anything related to sean, really. mostly, about his pma movement and how proud i am of him. i could also spend ages talking about his egos and creating stories and what-not, though it’s been really hard for me to find some good friends in the community ^^’

eviebot : what’s the last thing that made me laugh ?i just watched his last 50/50 video and i have to give robin a very big applause for his amazing editing skills. as much as i love jack and his videos, they wouldn’t be the same wihtout robin.

irish slang : what’s my favorite word ?any word that starts with ‘wh’, actually. they are so good to listen to, and absolutely love how people give those words different pronunciations. the way sean speaks them, it’s just delightful. im a sucker for accents and im guilty for that.

college : if i could build a themed hotel, what would it look like ?being an artist, i owuld make a hotel themed on that, allowing artists to design one room by themselves. be it artists from the community or from my country, i just want a hotel where people can make things by themselves, almost like an interactive hotel. that would be awesome, no kidding.

headphones : if someone could narrate my life, who would they be ?fuck, this is hard... i have a lot of idols and people i look up to, and a lot of them have beautiful voices. i would be delighted if jack narrated my life, i really am in love with his accent. if not, i would have pj or dodie narrate it. they also have beautiful voices.

screw you billy ! : what are my least favorite videos ?no kidding, i think it’s the fortnite ones. i’m just not one to enjoy shooting games. it’s both stressful and annoying to me. and yeah... that’s why i also didn’t watch the prop hunt ones... shame on me, i know.

sleep is for the weak ! : what am i doing when i can’t fall alseep ?i usually put on my headphones and play some nice music. i have a lot of playlists and choose between those. i get to listen to omam, billie eilish, dodie, some indie here, some spanish music there, maybe some lofi. it depends on my mood.

shadow of the colossus : what are my top 5 videogames ?i’d have to choose the last guardian, beyond two souls, infamous : second son, undertale and maybe heavy rain ? idk, but the first four are definintely up there.

reading your comments : what values are msot important to me ?definitely respect and honesty, to begin with. i’d rather have people telling me hurtful things at my face rather than behind my back. it’s both insufferable and it also can drive me to anxiety attacks. i’ve had it happen. i also appreciate a lot patience. i am someone who takes her time for most things, and if i can make others be patient with me, that woudl be a great achievement for me.

cunt mug : how many mugs do i own ?mine, i have like two, and both are very pretty, one a blue-ish colored one and another one with sketched hearts on it. they are both lovely- and big. and for my coffee bean, i need big mugs.

ryan reynolds : if i could hang out with three people, who would they be ?jack is definitely up there. i’ve been so close to see him- and it jsut didn’t happen. so for me to get to spend a day with him, it owuld be incredible. i would also want to spend the day with misha collins, i admire him a lot as well, and just love his positivism. and i think i would also want to hang out with anyone part of the community. it owuld be so cool to have friends to talk with that have the same interests as i do. so yea !

marvin’s mask : is there a trick i’d like to learn ?oh, yes ! a lot ! i woudl love to learn to make wicked fluffy cakes and the technique, and also some card tricks. i’ve tried those as well, but have achieved very little. i would also thrive for mixology. yea, ya girl wants to know how to prepare drinks !

and

mable’s sweater : how woudl i describe my clothing style ?definitely relaxed. my day to day consists on a poncho or a hoodie, boots and some jeans, a very loose braid or a high, very badly made bun, with bags under my eyes and pimples in my face. now, for the weekends, i’d definitely try to dress a bit nicer, with flowy and loose shirts, make-up (i love makeup), jeans, maybe some heels... hell, it can vary.

DAMn those were a lot of questions. but thank you so much for askin ;w; it really made my day !!

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felsight · 6 years ago

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A short thing with my priest & druid as well as @warcraftingfox ‘s Mo’hir & Zatna. There’s not much context to this other than the fact I just wanted to write out this scene that’s important to my characters’ stories.

His lungs felt like they were on fire, like they would collapse at any moment. If only it could have been that simple, to end his existence as easily as that. But, no, Celendis had always been a stubborn man. He wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t. Running as quick as his legs could carry him, the elf dipped and dodged through the forest, stumbling every time his robes caught on the tangling vines around him. Instinctively, he pulled his hood closer around him as he ran.

Behind him, his pursuers seemed to be having just as much of a difficult time as he; though they at least had somewhat of an advantage with two of them being druids. Easily, they had simply flown above the trees to keep an eye on him, tracking his every move. The third, another Sin’dorei, despite her agility, had managed to tangle herself just as often as Cel did.

“Get your holy butt back here, Cel, we just want to talk!” The too familiar voice of Zatna rang out behind him, only managing to spur Cel forward even more.

He refused to let the trio capture him. He couldn’t let them see him like this; the void magic he’d embraced months ago had drastically changed his appearance as well as the exile of the Ren’dorei from their homelands, had caused too much shame to the priest. He couldn’t face Zatna. Or Mo’hir. Especially not Nezza. Too full of shame and guilt, Celendis chose to run from his problems. Run until his legs gave out, if he had to. Until he was ready to face them again as what he now was.

What would his fiance think now? His once beloved partner, now at the mercy of this forbidden magic, at the mercy of the constant whisperings he now heard. Nezza would think him a madman. Insane. A monster. Betrayer. His heart lurched at the thought. It was better this way, better to stay away or risk those closest to him getting hurt.

< Their intentions are misplaced. They will betray you. > < They seek to harm you. Kill them first. > < They know not of the power you posses. Show them what true power is. >

The creeping thoughts caused the priest to hiss and shake his head violently. As he did so, he stumbled again. This time, he fell to his hands and knees and before he knew it, the trio surrounded him. Zatna to his back, Mo’hir and Nezza to the side and front respectively. Both druids had shifted back to their troll forms, Nezza holding out his hands reassuringly as they crept closer like he was a wounded animal.

Maybe he was, in a way.

“Get back!” Cel rasped out as he tried to breath. The energy he exerted in the short amount of time through the forest had caught up with him, causing his body to shake as his lungs tried desperately to fill to quell the fire inside them. His desperate words seemed to halt the other tree in their tracks for the time being. Or maybe they had been caught off guard to the ting to his voice he now carried thanks to the void coursing through him. He wanted to believe the former.

“Easy, mon, it just be us...” Mo’hir replied.

“You shouldn’t b-be here.” He gasped out. “I-it’s not safe.”

“We not be goin’ back wit out ya’.” Nezza stated matter-of-factly. As if Celendis could go back. “Just...Talk to us.”

Cel shook his head fiercely again. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Zatna piped up.

“I CANT!” Cel roared, turning quickly to face her. In his movement, his hood had flew off to lang loosely against his back. Desperately, he grasped for the hood to cover himself but it was too late. Zatna had gone quiet and wide eyed as both Mo’hir and Nezza staggered slightly.

For the next few moments that would stretch on into infinity for the priest, nobody said anything. The only thing to be heard was Celendis’s ragged breaths and the soft caress of the breeze through the leaves overhead.

“I can’t.” Celendis repeated, more sturdy this time. “The others... Other void elves.. We’re no longer welcome in Silvermo-”

“You don’t know that.” Zatna interrupted.

“I know that for a fact, Zatna. The terms of exile are pretty clear.” Cel retorted a bit too harshly to his friend.

Turning to Nezza, the troll’s expression remained unreadable as he gazed at his lover. In his silence, the druid approached the elf. Cel felt the urge to duck away from him, to turn tail and run farther away but with Zatna and Mo’hir flanking his other sides it would be pointless to even try.

Nezza didn’t stop until he was a mere few inches from Celendis before he took his face in his hands, tilting Cel’s head up to look him in the eyes. Reflexively, Cel’s own hands met Nezza’s. Light blue eyes met amber as the two remained like that until finally Nezza spoke.

“What have you done?” He said. His tone was gentle, not at all condescending like Cel half expected. Not full of horror as he imagined so many times.

The priest sighed, his gaze falling from the others to focus on the space between them. “It’s a long story.” he replied.

“We got time.”

“Nezza please listen-”

“No, you listen.” Nezza said stubbornly. “You left us in de dark. You up an’ vanished one day wit out a trace. Not even a letter or anythin’! By Bwonsamdi’s big bones, Cel, I was worried sick! I thought...” The trolls eyes glistened with unshed tears. “For Loa’s sake, I thought you were dead. Do you know what dat’s like? To wake up one mornin’ wit de love of yer life just gone in de night? I blamed myself every day for not protectin’ you bettah.”

“Brudder..” Mo’hir interrupted, placing a hand on Nezza’s shoulder. “Let de mon explain before you go an’ berate him. However..” A stern gaze was sent to Celendis, making the elf squirm slightly. “It betta be a damn good reason.”

Letting out a defeated sigh, Celendis slumped into Nezza’s arms, resting his head against the larger’s chest. “You’re...right. I should have said something. Anything. But.. How could I?”

“A letter would have been nice.” Zatna interjected. The other three shot her a look and she merely shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

“I..suppose a letter would have been best... Please forgive me, dalah’surfal, I didn’t think about the consequences.” Cel said.

“What did you do?”

“Ever since I learned of Magister Umbric’s teachings with the void, I followed him. He gave me a hope that I could return to my former glory as a priest with these methods.” He explained.

“I know dis. I remember from de first day you met ‘im.”

Celendis nodded. “Well. Not very many seemed too keen on the idea of practicing void magic; those that did would end up joining our ranks. Even the Grand Magister himself condemned the practice. He was the first to call for our casting out.”

“So den it’s his fault?” Nezza questioned.

“I told you he was a bitch.” Zatna huffed, ignoring the glare Celendis threw her way. “Relax, family’s family.... sort of.” She muttered.

“No. Not..Not entirely. Not even Umbric fully understood the power he was teaching, not until it was too late and we became like this.” Celendis motioned to his now purple-hued skin and the void tentacles that draped across his shoulders.

“There’s a lot more technicality to it but to spare the details and to make long story short... Nezza, don’t you see? I can heal again.” Cel said, a look of desperation on his face as he searched his partners face for some kind of reaction.

“Question.” Zatna piped up again, raising one of her hands. Turning to her, Cel raised a brow. “Do you happen to know someone a few inches taller than me, very snarky, power-hungry, narcissistic as hell, with an ego and a god complex to boot?”

“Uh..No? Why?” Cel replies.

“Just askin’. No reason.” She shrugs.

“You have ya’ powers back...At de cost of exile?” Nezza said, capturing Cel’s attention once again.

Celendis nodded.

“Was it worth it?”

He bit his lip as silent tears streamed down his face. “No. It’s not the same. Not without you. Not without home.”

#ll aVOIDance (Celendis)#ll Feline Ferocity (Nezza)#Drabble

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flippinoptimist · 7 years ago

Text

> Vel + RL : Get Along

carnivalsorphans brother have i told you how much i appreciate you flippinoptimist naut today carnivalsorphans ;o* flippinoptimist dead chicks are the worst but you did your best an thats all tha tmatters carnivalsorphans i'm... half upset that i'm still upset i spent all that time mournin, and then i stopped. and now it all came back, and i can't... figure it out

flippinoptimist almost like you got more free time now? an less distractions? an a lot more reminders? carnivalsorphans )o: flippinoptimist and a moirail who loves you an a matesprit who loves attention and you flippinoptimist an a recent pitch breakup makin you sad... carnivalsorphans ... you know sometimes i look at you and wicked and i wish my pitch was like that flippinoptimist hahahahaha fuck you need your fingers tho carnivalsorphans i could probably live without a thumb or two flippinoptimist i hope if thats how your pitch works, that they keep them forever in a little box carnivalsorphans that's romantic flippinoptimist and do the got your thumb trick at serious times carnivalsorphans hahahahahahahaha i mean, i gave wicked my tooth to make shit official, i dunno if i'm really the person to be scared of bein mutilated flippinoptimist he has one of mine too he used to take them from dudes he killed sometides he took one from each of our friends after they died carnivalsorphans is talkin about that gonna make you start wantin to bite him flippinoptimist i think im okay i think i actually forgave him all the way for the naughty shit carnivalsorphans ...... vel, that's really gay flippinoptimist right? carnivalsorphans you gonna tell him or let him figure it out on his own once he's ready to forgive himself flippinoptimist ive told him bits n pieces flippinoptimist he knows i blame the terrors an the way they twisted him he knows ive said it aint his fault just a question a how much hes gonna believe carnivalsorphans i've said that too ... i think he still thinks it's his fault, because he misses it the terror, i mean flippinoptimist and if hell believe i think hes still kind of a fuckmunch even with forgivin him flippinoptimist he misses bein sure about things he misses havin a purpose he misses naut bein in charge flippinoptimist he misses bein in charge carnivalsorphans fuckmunch is a lovely word i... i wanna give him purpose, and surety, and a place where he can make a difference without havin the world rest on his shoulders. and i straight up don't know how. not without askin him to move here and get dick deep in all the shit we got goin round here flippinoptimist hed probably be all over that maybe hed dig doin some shit w the church if theres smaller stuff that wouldnt take up his whole day stuff that could grow p easy if he was into it like, shit id probably do some a that shit too to be honest, though id get distracted on my own shit fast and often carnivalsorphans i'll... find somethin. i want him to feel useful. i want him to feel like a part of the family, even though he destroyed his i want you to feel a part, even though they chased you it's important to me flippinoptimist family is super important flippinoptimist is nice to be thought of im p shore you have us in the palm a your hand as long as you want, as long as you just remember us its hard to be the last carnivalsorphans ha. that's sure a way to put it. it's almost like you think i'm manipulating you flippinoptimist theres a lotta love, but theres plenty a old habits an no real reason to kick em either. flippinoptimist havin extra reasons for things doesnt make the original reasons fake either it all just mushes together carnivalsorphans i ain't gonna deny i manipulated you and wicked just a bit to pull you into church. ... but that don't mean i don't consider you family, and love you, and want to keep you around even without all the shit you've done for us flippinoptimist never doubted either side of that, RL flippinoptimist its nice to be Part. there was some serious shit goin on too, even though its startin to calm down finally aint one single bit able to blame you carnivalsorphans a lotta motherfuckers take offense to being manipulated. i mostly believe those are the motherfuckers who ain't quite smart enough to assume they ain't always bein manipulated flippinoptimist everybody has goals sometimes bein used for somethin makes a guy sad but like eh? shrug? i like bein part of a thing, and this is a good thing. carnivalsorphans everyone needs somethin. your mate that makes eyes at you til you come over to kiss em, or the general that has a cause he desperately needs warriors to fight for, same damn thing. flippinoptimist sometimes needs line up! carnivalsorphans yeah, ideally no one gets duped into somethin that don't line up with their wants either. i think that's when people start cryin betrayal 'i trusted you to use me for somethin i would like, or at least wouldn't mind. but instead you used me for somethin i don't like' carnivalsorphans tell me it's a bad idea to go to the old church

> for some reason, this opportunity feels Shiny. flippinoptimist i cant can i come carnivalsorphans well shit, you're excited i might get all weird, by the by flippinoptimist thats okay im already weird if i need to go tell me to fuck off an i will carnivalsorphans by 'weird' i mean like.... emotions flippinoptimist i know i hate a bathroom i feel very strongly it is a very annoying enclosed space i got reminded and now its loud carnivalsorphans .... brother i love you, come here flippinoptimist omw

#ooc eyes only #carnivalsorphans #death mention/#grieving/#maiming mention/

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johnnybby · 8 years ago

Text

dallas & your ex - imagine

requested by @suuny96 - (thanks for requesting babe! im really sorry that it took so long to post!1! i’ve been backed up by hw :/) warnings: mild cursing

To many, Dallas Winston seemed like an icy glare and a leather jacket - the guy that everyone knew to be outwardly hard, cold and mean. But Dally was yours; you knew that Dal wasn’t as cold as many thought he was. Sure, he had a pretty tough outer shell, but something told you that for as long as you two had been together, Dal had thawed out a little just for you.

He never really liked taking you out, always wanting to stay at his, yours, or very occasionally the Curtises’. Whenever he did take you out, it would usually be because you’d been bringing it up to him. So even though Dal didn’t really like watching movies and would normally fall asleep during the showing, he reluctantly promised to take you out to the moviehouse this time. Having time to kill before the movie had shown, you two stopped by at the DX to bother Steve and Soda.

“Well, Soda! Look who decided to show their faces,”Steve called over at you two, giggling with car grease on his cheek. His voice had made Soda look up from around a car hood.

“Dal, Y/N! What are you two up to over here?” Soda beamed, eyes gleaming as usual.

"We came to see Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. Why else?” Dal answered, referring to Steve and Soda.

"Well, It’s good to see ya, but Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee are real busy today, Dal,” Soda said, eyeing the cars beginning to make a line down the driveway. Somehow, even before it got busy, Steve had been trying to work on two cars at once while Soda stood pumping gas. But out of the line of cars that waited for gas, a single car seemed familiar to you. And then it hit you.

You knew exactly whose car that belonged to. You could even make out the despised facial features of the guy in the driver’s seat. It was your ex-boyfriend - the boy who you used to be deathly afraid of, who cheated on you like it was nothing. The boy who Dallas Winston knew absolutely nothing about.

He’d been drumming his fingers on the outside of the car, arm haning out of his rolled-down window. And then the dreaded moment came. He spotted you.

"Y/N, baby? Is that who I’m lookin’ at?” he asked, sarcastically smirking before getting out the car to walk over.

"Baby?” Dally turned around to the guy that had been calling you, his eyebrows furrowed and sat heavily upon his eyes - he was automatically bothered by the guy calling you ‘baby’.

“It is, isn’t it? Well, how’ve you been? Don’t tell me you’re Winston’s girl now,” he laughed, attempting to get under your skin. “C’mon baby, you know you belong to me! You don’t wanna be hangin’ ‘round a hood like him. I still care about you doll. I know you still love me.”

"Alright jackass, back off before I give you a fat lip,” Dally said, almost instinctively stepping in front of you. "Y/N, d'you know who this asshole is?"

“Oh, Y/N never said a thing about me? Funny. It seemed like yesterday that she wanted to go on screamin’ my name.”

"Dal, he's... this is my ex-boyfriend." You gently spoke out from behind Dally, grabbing onto his arm for a quick second, your voice real low. "Dal, he was real terrible. I-I mean he used to beat on me and yell... I jus- we should just leave, alright?"

"He what?" Dal turned all the way back towards you.

"C’mon Dal, don't make a scene."

“I ain’t makin’ no scene. This jackoff deserves a fuckin’ broken nose,” Dally told you, pointing at your ex. You knew he was annoyed; he didn’t like the way you brushed off something like that. He shifted his gaze back at your ex, a stare long and hard. Dal got close to him, nudging your ex backward with a heavy palm to his shoulder. “And if you know what’s good for you, you oughta shut your mouth and get lost, man.”

Your ex didn’t take this all too well. You knew he didn’t like being shown up - he had some ego on him. “Received loud and clear,” he started, sardonically smiling. “But if you know what’s good for you - boy, you’d do exactly the same, my friend.”

The two glared at each other for quite a bit and your heart hammered in your chest. You did admire that Dal stood up for you, but you just didn’t want fists to fly. It had always irritated you, the way Dally would come home battered and bruised. So, thank god, before anything escalated any further, Soda stepped in, clearly bothered by the commotion while on the job.

“Alright fellas, that’s enough. Lovebirds, you oughta get to the moviehouse before you miss the showing,” Soda said, looking at you and Dal. Then, he looked at your ex. “And you - get gas or get lost, pal.”

At this, Steve sucked his teeth. “Naw, c’mon Soda! I wanted to see a fight. Ain’t seen nothing good all day! How ‘bout you swing by when Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee have break next time?”

“Whatever, man,” Dally brushed it all off and shrugged his shoulders. “C’mon, Y/N.” Dal protectively slung his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him as you both made your way toward the movie house. Something about his face seemed heavy. More grave than the mug he gives to most people. There was something about him… he seemed contemplative, antsy or something - like something was eating at him. You couldn’t put your finger on it. To be fair though, he had never been the easiest person to read.

When you and Dal got there and went to find seats - which happened to always be in the back because of Dally, of course - he never sat down.

“I’ll be right back, alright?” he said. Except he didn’t wait for a response - he just up and left. The bathroom maybe? An uneasy feeling settled in your gut. What was Dallas up to?

In what seemed like a decade, though only actually about 15 minutes, Dal was back in the seat next to you, a big black-and-blue sitting right at his cheekbone.

“God, what happened? Where did you go?”

“Nowhere important, Y/N.”

“Dal, please don’t go on telling me that you went after him.”

“I think it’s a little late for that.”

“Winston, what did you do?”

“Don’t fuckin’ worry ‘bout it. He got that broken nose we were talkin’ 'bout earlier.”

“You did what?”

Hearing the question, Dally leaned up against you, as if he was getting ready to fall asleep on you. He rested his head on your shoulder.

“Well, he was askin’ for it, wasn’t he?”

_______________

a/n: i hope u liked it! it’s kinda hard to write for dally so im sorry if it sucked a lil <3

#the outsiders #the outsiders imagine #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston

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tiefightrs · 8 years ago

Note

all of them >:)))))))))))

u know what ok i’m on mobile so y'all just gotta scroll thru a long ass post sorry

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?✨just earlier today! i was singing don’t stop me now by queen fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?✨if i’m successful and happy in the future daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?✨i don’t accomplish a lot so fuckin,, inducted in nths i guess? 1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?✨the day spent in vernazza, italy… go d!! i love there :’)matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?✨to flick all the toxic people out of my lifeblack nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?✨i don’t but i guess the top 3 are to travel the world, work in disney/lucasfilm, animate??? pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.✨she’s rlly cute and sweet and she’s soft and warm and makes me laugh a lot and understanding and supportive and i wish she wouldn’t beat herself up as much moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?✨yea! stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?✨trick question: tomorrow bitch imma be watching star wars celebration in school and crying in front of everyone plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.✨zoe!! bc i love her and we’re gay converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?✨hmm not her lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?✨ok it was 3 am here and 8 am there but we were probably talkin about shit and they mean a lot to me they’re one of my favorite people to talk to handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?✨hmm i’m not sure! idk why but i first thought of my little brother and i’d tell him how much he means to me cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?✨Good i have brown eyes so sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.✨"im the pilot" i just rlly love bodhi rook okay oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?✨"im gay and struggling" overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?✨shop and travel the world! combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?✨i forgive ppl a lot even when i’m still upset at them winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.✨stop with the furry shit (repeat 10 more times) pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?✨hnngngnnggng pastel????? tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.✨YES to tattoos i want like 200 small ones but piercings are ok i don’t have any nor want any piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?✨mostly eyeliner! i like how i look with wingsbands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.✨the beatles has always been big in my world bc it’s my dad’s favorite band and the beatles (and star wars) rlly connects our family and my dad and i once drove him from indianapolis poorly singing the beatles and it’s one of my favorite memories with him messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.✨"fuck donald trump" cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.✨i’ve been to 1 (one) and it was a rock concert and honestly i remember being sweaty the whole time grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?✨i want a letter from dave filoni askin me to come work for him dbjdbdjsjjs i have dreams okspace: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?✨it’s a FUCKIN MESSwhite bed sheets: what is your night time routine?✨wash face and recently i’ve been tryna out this new acne cream so hopefully that works old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?✨my tumblr beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?✨fuckin lilac hair bc fuck you!!! eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?✨fuckign fuck idk probably the cast of star wars bc fuck u 11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.✨better at drawing, i’ve been rlly disappointed in my art lately. more confidence, body-wise and personality-wish. the last jedi trailer. obvious. painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.✨my last and final halloween costume was guy fieri. you can’t top that lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?✨i have never been drunk or high so nothin thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?✨say i support our current president storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?✨one person tbh… they can talk to u more rather than just sing u the same lyrics over and over again love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.✨it was a warm tight feeling in my chest clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?✨i already rocked rlly short hair and black nail polish fuck those gender questions yocoffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?✨i don’t go to starbucks a lot but i always order their carmel latte, and i’ll trust zoe she knows what she’s doing marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?✨star wars

#megan answers #long post #ur WELCOME

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noctomania · 8 years ago

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on nihilism and subjectivity

while i am ok with and actually comforted by nihilism, i recognize not everyone is! it makes me think about in class when a teacher would be telling us about a project and students askin questions about guidelines etc. in the situations where the teacher/professor let loose the reigns and didn't have much if any restrictions, there were always peers of mine who would absolutely lose it over there being no guidelines, constantly worried that because they weren't given a list of "do not do this" that they would do something wrong, while i was comforted with the freedom of understanding that even if i did do something wrong it was with the best intentions and that it was a learning experience regardless, which requires some fuck ups to learn sometimes. some people were brought up in a way or have had experience that makes them more comfortable with restrictions because they feel safe with the fences. me, im always worried about what is behind the fence, boundlessness makes me more at ease. it also makes me think of anarchist vs heirarchists. i consider myself anarchist bc of my nihilistic perspective. i don't think laws are necessary because much of it is intuitive ("i want no trouble so i won't trouble anyone else unnecessarily") and usually they are just in place not as guidelines to the general public (how many laws did you not know exist?) but for expediting trials and give easement to jury and judge in their objectives of placing blame. i feel more comfortable accepting the real lawlessness of life and working from there for peace rather than trying to use institutions that were built on corrupt principles by corrupt people for corrupt purposes to "right the wrongs". it doesn't make sense to me and in fact i argue overcomplicates things unnecessarily, because sometimes the laws can be used against victims and actually often is. For instance, who is to say one set of rights is more important than another. is my right to speech more important than someone's right to their religion or someone else's right to bare arms? one person would rate those very differently from another who would very differently from me. i will admit it's admirable the lengths at which humans have gone to attempt to make a recipe for equality, but the facts are diversity exists. diverse perspectives will never cease to be and where diversity exists so does conflict and the ways in which we have chosen to react to that conflict is poor. we have focused on placing blame and shaming certainly someone if not everyone without really coming to a conclusion. most walk away from any conflict hurt somehow, if not at the end then surely in the beginning or at some place throughout and nothing will change that back. as it is, at least here, a person is accused of a crime or turn themselves in and there is an entire process where "unbias parties" participate in determining the believability of someone's alibi and based on prescribed knowledge, which is transitional in nature, determine their future. now nihilism catches a lotta slack because it can serve as grey area for criminals to get away with shit. well guess what, so does our current system, the only thing is it's built by them for them and it benefits the most powerful. at least with nihilism and anarchy there would be no pre-existing wall for the powerful to hide behind. there would be no red tape preventing every day people from accessing others who are more revered or popular. i don't feel it is acceptable to negate the harm you can cause by claiming nothing matters anyway, it's not a justification for malfunction. doing something purely harmful is unnecessary at best, that is clear. we can clearly determine productive vs detrimental better than we can determine right vs wrong or good vs bad. As it is, we're trying to run quantitative measures in a qualitative reality and that inevitable neglects important factors, things like mental health, neurodiversity, the "invisible" identities and their experiences, etc. As a species we are built to recognize patterns and we do it fairly well. but we mistake the forest for the trees when we try to apply that theory to practice. we think if we create a cookie cutter system that all the slack we cut off will rot away and we'll be left with a perfect cookie. but that slack doesn't die out. it doesn't fade. it festers. out on the fringe. it grows stronger by one way or another. outliers are further ousted by their removal from the development of the rest of society. The people living in rural areas that aren't as accessible, the introverts who seek solitude, those pushed out by capitalism that forgets the poor need homes too; these people suffer from being disjointed from societies culture. There is rural culture, urban culture, rich culture, suburban culture, fringe culture, etcetc. these groups are removed from one another's lifestyles be it due to money, location, identity tolerance or a variety (generally a variety and none of these exist in vacuums.) They all get different exposure to different experiences on an individual basis, but also on a group basis. Life is simply too complex to have even transitional law of the land imo. i believe everything needs to be treated with the same level of uniqueness that it is composed of. I feel it would be much more efficient that way. however that's based of my own knowledge which is not based in reading about political ideology or theories. whatever assumptions you may bring to this post are likely of your own but if you have gotten this far after reading all the above and wish to talk about this id love to but don't pull out some reference to some political philosopher and assume ill know who tf you're talking about and why because i won't and you will just piss me off by coming across pretentious as i am but a dumb country boy who somehow made it through college without hardly ever reading anything beyond skimming (mostly because our education system is a joke as well) until them toodles my brain is fried

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