#writing with noe

[tollingreminiscentbells]

There is no one way to write fiction. Outside of the mechanics of writing in a given language, there are no definitive right answers. But one thing I encourage writers to embrace is letting dialogue stand alone a little more often.

Not every line of dialogue needs to be nestled into narrative prose. If it's clear who's speaking, sometimes it really is the better choice to just let some of the dialogue be. No dialogue attribution, no actions, no descriptions, just the spoken lines by themselves.

I think sometimes people are afraid of that choice. They feel like dialogue in isolation is lacking something. But depending on what you're trying to do, it can actually be the more effective and impactful call.

Sometimes less really is more. Not everything needs to be described.

Addendum here: I will own my clear biases. For all my stylistic bullshit, and god knows I have my share, I write "voice-y" prose and my fiction is dialogue driven. I could write long narrative passages and a lot of lush descriptive prose, but I don't because I don't want to. It's a choice.

That being said, even if you do favor long narrative passages and a lot of lush descriptive prose, don't sell your dialogue short! Let it have its moment in the spotlight.

[wstviewvidal]

courtyard- w. maximoff

summary: kids say the most random things, don’t they?

pairing: teacher!wanda x teacher!r

“stop fidgeting so much,” wanda says was the stands beside you, “you’re making me anxious.”

you exhale harshly through your nose, “sorry, i almost lost a kid last time we went on a field trip.”

she tries her best to conceal her laugh with a cough, her shoulders shaking as she tries to turn her body to the side.

you throw your head back and smack her shoulder with a small bit of force, “maximoff, stop.”

today is the first field trip of the year and to say you’re nervous is an understatement.

you spent the past twenty four hours going over signed documents, payment receipts, printed out emails, even recounting money to ensure this field trip went to plan.

you, wanda, and a few other teachers are lined next to the school buses. wanda notices the way you rock back and forth on your heels. she places a gentle hand on your forearm and smiles at you in a comforting manner.

“you’re going to be fine,” she places her sunglasses on the top of her head, “we’re chaperoning the same group, we’ll be fine.”

you nod softly, grateful you were partnered with wanda to chaperone a group of eight students. you exhale softly and calm down.

wanda watches as you ground yourself after she reassures you. she watches the way you count the kids and pop your knuckles out of habit. too absorbed in you, she doesn’t even realize her colleague is watching the interaction in amusement.

soon after, the two of you are sat at the front of the bus en route to the botanical garden. you look out the window at the buildings as you pass, oblivious to the fact that wanda’s been watching you from the corner of her eye.

“you’re staring,” you turn to her with an amused expression, “why?”

wanda shrugs nonchalantly, “just want to make sure you’re not going to pass out before we get there.”

she tries her best to hide her laugh when you give her an offended look, scoffing slightly, “you have such little faith in me and i’m offended.”

after a breath, you let out what she knows you’ve been holding in, “i swear if one of those kids-“

wanda sighs softly, “you’ll freak out and i’ll handle it— as always.”

you purse your lips— she’s not wrong. you tut your head and pout.

she smiles at you, nudging your shoulder with hers, “we make a good pair.”

you laugh softly, nodding softly at her remark— acting as though it didn’t make your heart skip a beat.

you two walk behind your group of students, both counting the eight kids silently and giving each other a slight nod of reassurance every now and then.

luckily, you have a small group who has given no issues. you two stroll close enough to keep an eye on them but far enough to where you two can enjoy the scenery for yourselves.

the bees buzzing around the flowers distract you from the fact that you’re walking close to the woman you’ve grown to like in the past year. the same woman who can’t help but keep glancing in your direction.

the buzzing hums softer and softer as you focus on the students in front of you. you count eight for the fourth time in ten minutes— still eight.

from the corner of your eye you can see wanda smiling at you.

“you’re staring again,” you mumble, not turning to look at her.

wanda lets out a small laugh, turning away and facing forward as you two follow the group.

“just making sure you’re still breathing,” she says softly.

you let out a snort at that, shaking your head slightly in disbelief at the fact that wanda has not much faith in your emotional stability.

“someone has to look out for you, kid.”

lunch time finally rolls around and you are ready to sit down. the hours of walking around and doing scavenger hunt activities wore you down completely.

you’re sat under a purple and white umbrella, a chicken caesar wrap in your hand as you people watch.

“this is why people might think you’re weird, you know?” you hear her voice walking up to you, “you and your staring problems.”

“it’s called being observant, not nosy,” you correct her with an unamused look.

“same thing, different wordage,” she grabs a few of your chips, and gives you a cheeky smile. she knows you wouldn’t ever reprimand her for taking off of your plate.

her black sunglasses are perched atop her head, pushing her hair back and allowing you to study her side profile. her green irises scan the courtyard and count the kids in your group. your fingertips play with each other, a habit you picked up in undergrad— something you absentmindedly do when you’re deep in thought.

you don’t even notice wanda’s eyes are now on you. her head is tilted slightly and her eyebrows are furrowed, “hey, you okay?”

her hand touches yours, gently. her fingers graze the back of your palm, as if she knows it’ll bring you back down to earth.

you regain focus and nod, “yeah, just zoned out.

your voice is soft and far off and wanda can’t help but frown. she gives a short nod, not letting her eyes stray from you for too long.

“miss?” one of your students calls from a few feet behind you.

you turn to the girl, “what’s going on, mads?”

madeleine smiles at you, a mischievous look on her face that you can’t help but groan internally at.

“my friends and i wanted to ask-“

you and wanda look at one another with a nervous look, unsure of what to make of the girl’s tone.

“we were just wondering if you two were dating.”

madeleine leans on one hip, her fingers playing with the charm bracelet on her left wrist in nervous habit.

wanda looks over at you with an expression you can’t quite read. she raises her eyebrows, silently telling you to answer the question.

“madeleine,” your voice is low and firm, “no, we’re not, but that still is not a question to ask your teacher. much less about one of her colleagues.”

madeleine rolls her eyes, “fine, but everyone’s saying it would be cute.”

she walks away, leaving you and wanda to replay the sixteen year old’s words. did the two of you look like you’re dating?

you let out an exasperated sigh, “i’m sorry, wands.”

she smiles at you, a small laugh coming out of her mouth. she shakes her head in disbelief, “at least we know your kids are comfortable coming to you about anything.”

she picks another chip off your plate, “sixteen year olds really hold nothing back.. it’s kind of refreshing.”

you snort, nodding in agreement, “i was the same.”

wanda smiles at the thought of you as a teenager, being unapologetically herself. she looks at you, almost being able to see a younger you with the same dimples.

“it’s not like there’s even anything going on,” a small mumble comes your lips as you fix your lanyard.

wanda smirks in response, she doesn’t say anything immediately. she only nods.

“yeah.. nothing’s happening.”

you force yourself to look away from wanda’s eyes, back to the courtyard. eight. still eight.

[feifiefofum]

i don't get you ironwood stans

like, crwby pulled off one of the coolest narrative tricks ever, and you lot are bitching about it.

from the get go, james ironwood was a fascist little cunt. did we just collectively forget that he usurped ozpin from his council appointment in vale? as in he (an outsider to vale, from atlas) messed with the internal politics of another nation. that's some major 'things better go my way or else'. and his way is always, always a military build up and presence.

which then contributed to the fall of beacon. there was already a two pronged assault going on, what with the grimm and the white fang, but a third unexpected prong from ironwood's tin soldiers is definitely not helpful.

so from the beginning, crwby introduced ironwood's flaw- his my way or the highway mentality, his tendency to crash out. and then they continue to do their narrative trickery- by having jacques shnee be his harshest critic.

not that anyone could be a jacques schnee fan- but the dude was not wrong. he's in it for his own profit margins, but he does call out ironwood's iron fisted rule over atlas and mantle. he does call out his dictatorial tendencies.

and so, the fndm, who likes weiss schnee, and hates jacques schnee is more likely to dismiss these critiques. we're more likely to chalk it up to his lien-grubbing tendencies. this was wrong of us, but so effective. it furnishes us with information about james ironwood, but since that info comes from a poisoned well, we tend to dismiss it. that's so good, to obfuscate and deliver critical character info like that is insanely talented. i mean, by the brothers, the tree and the smith, if i could write like that, i'd call myself talented.

another thing they did was have james ironwood overcome the character flaw of ozpin. he shared info with his subordinates, expanded the circle of trust that ozpin failed to do, time and again. and since we, the audience focused on ozpin's critical fails for the last 3 volumes, seeing james casually overcome this flaw tricks the audience into trusting him. because he overcame a flaw! unfortunately, it just wasn't his flaw to overcome.

remember, his flaw was his fascistic tendencies. his way or the highway. or, y'know, shooting mouthy kids. you can't just overcome some other character's flaw and call that character development. those writers' were obfuscating so hard, they pulled the wool over our eyes completely.

and you ironwood fans fell for it! hook, line, and sinker! i'mma be honest, i was cheering for him too in series 7, but halfway through, you were supposed to remember that he didn't overcome his own character flaw but ozpin's. and as much as we would like to, we can't just fob off our character development to others. you have to do it yourself. and ozpin does. he comes back, apologizes and shares pertinent information.

crwby successfully pulled off an incredible narrative trick. and you're crying about it?? that's so weird. you cheer for this shit. hats off to a trick well done. this is writing on steroids.

[basu-shokikita]

Rip to Klokateer #47914 but at least his death indirectly revealed that there's a bunch of Deaddy Bears in Skwisgaar's room. Of a variety of colors too!

This piece of lore fascinates me to no end because either:

A. Toki has left them there on his countless visits to Skwisgaar's room.

Either forgotten or planted them there strategically so he can have a friend to cuddle on his next visit. Because, if there's something we take away from Prankklok, is that Toki feels very comfortable in Skwisgaar's room. He's probably hanging in there there often.

B. Skwisgaar keeps a few Deaddy Bears in his room to cheer up or bribe Toki depending on the mood.

We know Skwisgaar isn't exactly the best at communication so maybe when Toki is sad he can wordlessly toss him a Deaddy Bear and hope it helps. Or, in his quest for trying to get Toki to practice again, he commissions/collects Deaddy Bears to encourage Toki to play guitar, saying he can earn a new version of his stuffed friend if he does.

Either way, it's absolutely amazing.

[denkilightning]

[NINJAGO LEAKS DR S3P2, talking about jay/rogue]

jay rogue walker is better than me because if i lost my entire identity and memory and didnt even know if my name was actually real and got for years manipulated and lied to and the people who got me kicked out and kept switching back and forth from being seemingly nice to hating me for every little thing then commissioned me a job, then wanted me to risk my literal soul which is fucked up already from the other guy to save people we werent there for just to not save anyone but the targets anyway, and then go do that again??? and then they get mad at me for not wanting to risk my life for something i never wanted to be a part of?????? yeah id murder them all honestly

[cl-0v3r]

WIIIIIIFEEWWWW SHES FUCKING HEREEE WIFEEEEEE OH MY GODDDDD MEL MEDARDA MY WORLD MY EVERYTHING I LOVE YOUUU OH MY GODDDDD

[melkyt]

Im sorry, wait wait, give me a minute

Law's flower is Queen of The Night? And I am supposed to be okay after that information

*sobbin*

The flower that stands for wisdom and how life and death go hand in hand, how existance is a cycle between the two?

Flower that blooms once a year, that can stand for eternity yet is fleeting?

There are countless myths and books about a rare flower that blooms once in an eternity, flower that brings immortality at the cost of its own life?

*oh my heart*

The symbolism goes hard wth

Me crying over Trafalgar Law as always yeah, yeah

Its so tragic...

It's such a beautiful setup for a romantic tragedy....

[dabis-melted-dick-piercing]

i love that we get introduced to jinx literally within the first scene of arcane and we just don't know it. jinx is clearly the embodiment and the result of all of powder's trauma; including witnessing the loss of her parents and all the violence on the bridge. when i rewatched arcane i noticed there are glitches in the bridge scene just like we see when jinx is hallucinating

i think jinx has always been there, she's just been buried and hidden under the surface

[fairy-writes]

MORNING ROUTINE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Requester: @straykidsnerd255

Prompt: A fluffy, domestic imagine with Noé from Vanitas

Word Count: 0.7k

Fandom(s): The Case Study of Vanitas

Pairing(s): Noé Archiviste x Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Domestic AU

__________________________________________________________________________

Your morning routine begins with Noé.

You wake up wrapped tightly in his arms as his nose is buried in your hair. He’s still fast asleep. His white hair is mussed and unruly, not at all how he carefully styles it every morning when he actually wakes up. 

But Vanitas didn’t have anything planned today, so you had him all to yourself. 

It’s a pain to get out of his hold, but you’d been dating him for a year and known him even longer than that. Getting out of his bear hug was child’s play for you now. Putting your hands on his entwined arms, you push down gently. He shifts in his sleep but doesn’t awaken. 

But slowly… ever so slowly… his arms move down your waist until they get caught on your hips. You push a bit harder, but when Noé almost wakes up, you stop. 

So you shimmy your hips and push gently until you can awkwardly clamber out of his arms and stand upright. You replace your body with your pillow, and Noé is none the wiser. He rolls over in his sleep with an incoherent mumble. You spy Vanitas on the other bed of your shared hotel room, pitch-black hair sticking up in all directions as he sits up and glares around the room. 

Neither of the boys are particularly joyous when woken up in the morning. 

“What do you feel like for breakfast?” You whisper, and he grunts, lying back down and covering his head with the blanket. You can’t help but giggle but stifle the noise when Vanitas peeks his head out again and turns his nasty glare onto you. 

The next part of your morning routine is simple. You wash your face and hands and rifle quietly through your luggage for clothing for the day. You pick out a simple violet dress and matching shoes and change in the bathroom, tossing Noé’s shirt that he had lent you for sleeping onto the bed once you’re done. 

Paris is just beginning to wake up as you walk down the slowly brightening streets. The sun is just peeking over the horizon, but you don’t stop to admire it as you typically would. 

You’re on a mission. 

A mission to get breakfast back before the boys wake up. 

Well… wake up for real at least. 

There is a bakery near your hotel room, but you wanted to try one just down and across the road. The locals had raved about it when you talked to them last week. Though there is already a line forming before the doors have even opened. 

So you get in line and hope you can make it back in time before Vanitas and Noé wake up. 

It takes about an hour, but you get a box of pastries and tiny cakes, pay, and head back to the hotel room.

You open the door and find Noé standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and his hair sticking up every which way. He still holds your pillow in his free hand and frowns when he spots you dressed and holding a pastry box in your hands. 

“Wassat?” He mumbles, and you laugh at his sleep-addled words. 

“Breakfast.” Now go get changed and you can have some.” You nudge gently and he visibly brightens when he smells the still-warm pastries in the box. 

It doesn’t take long for the scent to entice Vanitas out of bed either. As soon as you set the box down and go to check on your boyfriend, you see Vanitas moving around under the covers as if trying to hype himself up to get out of bed. 

Noé all but bounds out of the bathroom, dressed and ready for the day. He wraps his arms tightly around your middle and peppers you with kisses. You laugh and gently push him away before reaching behind you into the box and shoving a pastry into his mouth. He stops, chews once or twice, and absolutely melts with adoration. 

Looks like you mission is accomplished. 

[ophelia-is-not-okay]

I am so in love with their friendship 🩵💜🤌🏻>>

[cyanide-latte]

Had a really weird dream last night that was a wild crossover between A Nightmare on Elm Street, Beetlejuice, and Disney of all things (with a tiny nod to Stephen King at one point) and it was the most ridiculous thing. The Sunday Stream Squad has convinced me I should make it a crack fic, so consider this your warning and my advance apology.

[tollingreminiscentbells]

Working on my RadioApple AU and the deeper I get into this series the more obviously "AU" it becomes. I just can't resist tossing out the weak Lucifer backstory the show gave us and going rogue.

There are so many relevant texts, you know? Give me Lucifer the first angel, the brightest and most beloved. The morning star who inspired a third of all angels to follow him in a war against heaven. If we're deep-diving, how about the destroying archangel Samael, who served as the prosecutor in the court of heaven before he fell?

The Samael thing is interesting, actually. A lot of Lucifer "canon" comes from midrash and Kabbalah and pseudepigrapha about Samael. Samael is the Adversary, Lucifer is the Adversary, they kind of merged. Lucifer isn't an angel's name, anyway, so it makes more sense if he wasn't always called that.

(Samael means "poison of god", by the way, which is pretty great.)

There's a lot of material out there, is what I'm saying, and we are collectively sleeping on most of the really fun stuff.

I am modestly knowledgeable about this subject. I have a Jewish religious education and read this kind of stuff for fun, but I won't claim more than that. You want to do some jazzy world building in your fic, though? Come talk to me. I've got you.

[wstviewvidal]

A414- w. maximoff

summary: they always say to never fall for a coworker, but what if it’s mutual?

pairing: teacher!r x teacher!wanda maximoff

a/n: i actually haven’t written in a while guys so…

the hallway seemed bigger the day you first arrived. the walls were bleak and wet with a new coat of white paint, but today’s hallways are filled with back to school bulletin boards and club flyers.

a small sigh escapes your lips as you unlock the classroom door, A414. a small shiver creeps up your spine as you look over your classroom— the string lights hung from the ceiling and the red bean bags in the far corner of the room remind you of how new you are to the teaching profession.

“overthinking again?” a voice teases from behind you.

you’re met with a teasing smile and a fresh cup of coffee— wanda.

you roll your eyes playfully and open the door wider for her to enter. she slides past you and you note how she scans over your room with a hint of a smile.

“this year will be better than last year,” she turns to face you, her hair moving softly as she does a 180, “i promise.”

the previous school year was your first year teaching, and by no means was it easy. you had grown close to wanda in the few months she taught next door to you.

she offered words of wisdom and the occasional breakfast sandwich she made for you prior to arriving on campus.

you let out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t want to get pink slipped, you know?”

you sit at your chair and lay your head in your hands, “i was on the verge of getting pink slipped last year, im sure.”

wanda watches your defeated form with a small pout on your face, “your first year is always the roughest.”

she walks over to where you’re sitting and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, “i’ll be right next door to you, okay? i won’t let anything happen.”

and there it is— the part of you’d been dreading but also anticipating for the past three months. wanda’s affection.

you smile as you lift your head from your hands, a pink hue on your cheeks as you look up at her.

“thank you, ms. maximoff,” you tease.

she scrunches her nose, a grin on her lips as you call her that, “dummy.”

wanda leaves shortly after that and you’re left to review your upcoming lesson for the start of school next week. you can still feel the warmth of her hand on your right shoulder, and you can still smell the faint scent of her perfume left behind.

hours pass and before you know it, it’s lunch time. rolling away from your desk, you grab your bag and prepare to head to your car.

“leaving me already?” you can hear from your door way.

wanda is leaned against the door frame, arms crossed and a playful pout on her lips, “thought you knew better than to leave without saying goodbye.”

your stomach does flips at the flirty remark, and your face does nothing to hide the blush on creeping up your face.

clearing your throat, “i’m just off to lunch, maximoff. join me?” you smile sweetly at her, tilting your head to the side the slightest bit.

she takes in your appearance and lets out a soft chuckle, “i’ll drive.”

the drive to grab a quick bite was comfortingly quiet. wanda’s music played in the background while she hummed along.

you two end up at a drive thru, the same one you two had been to on frequent occasion during the school year.

you face wanda to let her know your order, but are interrupted by her already ordering for you. you stare at her side profile for the briefest of moments, admiring how beautiful she looks doing such a mundane task.

you internally groan, hating yourself for falling for a co-worker. your co worker who you’re sure wants nothing to do with you outside of work.

you let out a soft laugh as wanda parks into that parking spot— the same one you two always parked in during last school year.

wanda smiles and turns the ignition off, “you love this spot.”

“no, you love this spot,” you respond, inserting the straws in the to go cups.

she laughs, shaking her head, “it has the best view of the field.”

you scoff, looking at her with an unamused look, “this is a dry patch of grass.”

“but it’s our patchy grass field.”

you glance at her— she’s not even looking at you. she’s sat there just sipping her drink as if she didn’t just say something that made your heart hurt in the nicest way.

you sit in the passenger seat of her suv, legs crossed over the other as you eat your fries.

she peels the wrapper off her sandwich and glances over at you, “so, what are your goals for this year?”

you sit and think for a second, shrugging your shoulders, “not cry in the storage closet.”

she snorts, “low bar.”

“fine, i guess not cry in front of you again.”

that day had to have been one of the lowest in your life. the semester was close to ending and your students hadn’t been getting the best grades on their tests. part of you wondered if it had anything to do with your teaching.

wanda consoled you with ease and offered words of advice that day— and things shifted after that.

she raises her cup to that, “that sounds like a real goal to me.”

there’s a brief pause, just the sounds of the wrappers crinkling and the beat of the music wanda had queued.

“you know,” she begins, “you’re way too hard on yourself.”

you glance at her, eyes narrowed as you watch her, “says the girl who rewrote her syllabus three times.”

“that’s different,” she wipes her hands on a napkin and cleans her area, “i know im good at this. you’re still trying to convince yourself you’re not terrible.”

you momentarily freeze. you know she’s right, but you can’t help but try to find some lie in her truth.

wanda smiles at you with a fond expression, “your students love you— i can see it in how they treat you.”

you blink, caught off guard, “stalking me now?”

she rolls her eyes, “you were the teacher with the most gifts during teacher appreciation week. not even i have received that many in the eight years i’ve been teaching.”

you laugh and something in your chest flutters. you don’t realize you’re staring at her until your eyes meet. her nose scrunches and she tilts her head to the side. her mouth opens to say something— she doesn’t.

instead, she brushes a crumb off the sleeve of your top.

“messy eater.”

she sits back and fixes her hair, as if nothing happened in those few seconds.

you try not to freeze— to overthink the way her fingers lingered for just a moment too long.

the lunch break ends and just before you two go into your respective classrooms, she turns to you, “if you do end up crying again..”

“yeah?” you say softly.

“i placed a box of tissues in your bottom drawer. use as needed.”

you smile at the thought, then furrow your brows, “wait, that’s your supportive gesture?”

she smiles teasingly at you just before she walks back into her classroom, “you’ll do great this year, kid.”

[imavikingo]

Everytime I look at Tumblr and see the tl I remember why I hate endgame with a passion you couldn't understand.

They fucked up Steve and Bucky so bad (yes, Bucky too bc suddenly he doesn't matter/isn't even a secondary character that deserves to be near Steve)

It's so funny to me (not) bc they talked about gay characters being in the movie at panels and interviews and even talked about Stucky at some point (basically queerbaiting) for then... Steve not even acknowledging Bucky. An awkward and impersonal hug doesn't cut it.

And Steve suddenly yearning and talking about Peggy? When he didn't even mourned her that bad and already had let her go ages ago? They knew they fucked up in CATWS with Steve and Buckys relationship, so they tried to distance them and then inserted Peggy bc ofc

(they possibly didn't have the time for a new character and they already had fucked up pairing Nat and Bruce and Wanda and Vision). Steve didn't have anyone else he cared about so they couldn't give him a new girlfriend. So they used Peggy AGAIN.

I'm not mad bc "Stucky not canon grr"

No.

I'm fucking pissed off because they did the worst character assassination and friendship assassination possible. Every movie of Cap America revolved around Steve saving Bucky at some point and him caring about him above all else, and you want me to believe that Steven Grant Rogers didn't care about him when Bucky died in front of his eyes? AGAIN? That Peggy's death was more important and impactful for him? If that was the case then why the fuck did he crash the plane then? If he cared so much about Peggy since forever?

No, that was just lazy writing and a way to reinforce Steve's sexuality "He can't be gay and you can't say that bc he LOVES PEGGY"(even tho he only kissed her once, even tho he crashed the plane and didn’t give her the coordinates, he didn't really care that much after all) they could have paired him with Nat in later movies, but they didn't.

That's why I only raise my eyebrows a lil when people say that x character will be gay canonically in a marvel movie/series. Is more than possible they won't. And if they are they're Deadpool, a secondary character no one cares about (obscure in lore too, so they can cut them off) or is plain queerbaiting again (because yes, even if you don’t see Steve and Bucky’s relationship as romantic, they DID QUEERBAIT IT)

Steve and Buckys relationship wasn't even written in a romantic way (you can ship them or not), but they tried so hard to rectify Steve's heterosexuality in endgame, that they fucked up their character arcs on purpose. And now they will always feel hollow and inconclusive. A bad taste in the mouth, a painful reminder of what it was and a what? 11 year long? characterization.

Idk man, I know I've talked about this more than three times, but omfg Tumblr reminds me why I hate that fucking movie!!! It's not my fault!!!

I know I'm going to end up writing something out of spite bc I can't take it shdkdjjcif

"It's been more than 4 years get over it" NEVER

Also the bit with Johnny Storm in Deadpool and Wolverine was also a dig (a fuck you if you will) to the fans bc Deadpool explicitly calls him Cap. And it implies that Steve as a character (not that old Steve nonsense) won't be back.

It's funny they've remade over and over again some movies (Fantastic 4, Spiderman) changed actors for characters (James/war machine, Bruce) and they include them in the multiverse/plot, but they won't do the same to some movies and some characters when they fuck up their stories, because they know if they do, they will have to acknowledge WHY they did it. Like with James/war machine changing actors.

So yeah, that's one of the reasons I don't care about Marvel anymore.

**I mean remake the movies ((Also they Can't remake Cap America bc that would mean they need to remake every important movie. And they don't have the time, the money nor the need. So that's why they decided to fuck their character arcs))

or include some characters in multiverse (they're going to do that with Tony/RDJ/Dr Doom after all, no?) and they also won't remake Cap bc the movies are amazing.

But the point stands. Steve couldn't be in DaW bc that would imply he's an alternative one or that Old!Steve was an alternative one or wasn't even Steve to begin with. But they couldn't do that ofc, no, bc that would give the fans hope in seeing Steve and Bucky together once again. So they did a dig at the fans bc "haha you thought it was Steve, but it's Johnny!"

Idk if I'm making sense at this point I'm tired af, need to sleep.

The thing is that they fucked up Steve Rogers's arc on purpose (Bucky's too, and others charas too tbh) and now they expect the fans to accept everything they give us with open arms. And imho I won't accept shit.

"Deadpool saved the MCU" how? If the other og characters are DEAD or they fucked them up too? Or are the butt of the joke now? Don't make me laugh. Most people don't gaf bout the new charas bc they only are presented in series not everyone watches (only available in one place) or are presented with characters that are dead now or as a replacement for the og characters. They aren't interesting on their own (not really, at least in mcu) and that's why most of the new stuff isn't liked as much. If they wanted to present more characters the opportunity passed already.

Also now if you want to watch and really understand 1 movie (if you don't read the comics too) you need to watch like 20 other movies and 5 shows. it's fucking exhausting.

[anticidic]

43 + kunizai for the spotify wrapped ask game thingy :3

#43: 0 (zero) English ver. — LMYK

Was it you who I’ve been searching for? Spent my life alone and waited for? So tenderly and endlessly You made me whole, you made me whole Was it you who I heard through the door? When I cried and had no place to go? I’ll never believe I’m alone In the end we begin ‘til we meet again You made me whole, you made me whole

(Beast!Kunikida + Beast!Dazai)

The hammer of a gun clicked.

And aimed itself at Dazai.

Not the first time it happened, but now the second time in less than a week Dazai found himself staring down the barrel of someone who should’ve been his friend. But that was in another world and not here. He wanted to lean forward and press his head against the cold metal, pray for Kunikida to pull the trigger and make it simply end. In another world, Kunikida would’ve chided him for saying such a stupid thing.

Here, with the hatred that burned in Kunikida’s gaze, Dazai was pretty sure he would act upon that threat—and wouldn’t think twice.

“You. Again.” The grip Kunikida had on his gun was shaky. As if the idea of gunning down the leader of their enemy was but a figment of his imagination, and now here in the flesh, he didn’t know how to react without crumbling. His stare of disbelief was replaced by an unwavering glare. “You’re back again. You’ve come to antagonize me now, or what? Leave! You’ve bothered Akutagawa and Oda enough, and if the president would give me the word, this conversation would never have happened.”

Dazai remembered his own gun tucked safely away in his coat pocket. In the blink of an eye, he could have it out, but then they would be at a standstill with the pressing question burning between them: who had the courage to pull the trigger first?

It took a true kingsman to summon the will to face reality in all its darkness. To stare straight into the abyss and do what needed to be done. It also took a true kingsman to suffocate under the crushing weight of a crown he never wanted but was forced upon him.

Only two others could know of the intricacies of their little world here. Dazai had it carefully planned out and his fated ones chosen ever since he took leadership. No, that wasn’t right. Even before that. Before eighteen, before he tossed Akutagawa aside for his sister. Those two did not include Kunikida, and it pained Dazai. With how Kunikida looked at him, wanting to scream at him to go away—to go away for good and leave everyone alone six feet under where Dazai belonged—Dazai wanted to scream back.

In another life, they were not on opposite sides like this. They had each other’s backs through thick and thin: through Yokohama’s almost total annihilation twice over and through their enemies that threatened to sever the agency. Now they were enemies. They still fought for the city’s peace, but Dazai had become public enemy number one in this world.

Forcing out a chuckle through that terrible thought, Dazai slid his hands into his pockets and stepped closer. Any closer and cold metal would touch him. Until Kunikida took a step back with every one of Dazai’s that went forward. “I suppose I should’ve expected my warm welcome to be having a gun pointed at me, but it’s still disappointing when I mean no harm.” He removed his hands and held them out in front of him, tilting his head slightly. “Unless you plan on shooting me right here and right now, your threat is empty and meaningless to me. Besides, it’s easier for me to talk to you without a gun between us. What if you…miss? Then what, Kunikida-kun—”

“Don’t call me that,” Kunikida snapped back and aimed the gun at Dazai’s forehead. “You will never be welcome here. I only agreed to meet with you because I wanted answers and suspected that you had been planning something for a while now. I know all about the subordinates you sent after the agency. Akutagawa’s sibling that you hold over his head…the meeting you tricked Oda into. All of it! You’re not a friend.” The gun shook and he bared his teeth in a scowl. “You’ll never be. So long as you’re the Port Mafia’s boss, you’re forever a problem that needs to be watched. You, your underboss, all the executives. Every last one of them.”

“What if I told you there’s someone much worse than me out there?” Dazai steeled his nerves and stood tall despite the agony that welled up in his chest and threatened to burst. It was Oda all over again, and somehow more personal. He could take a rejection. He took several in his time since he was a kid. But he couldn’t take rejections that caused constant deaths in the heart. Only a little longer, he rationalized. Only a little longer until curtain call and the final plan was set in motion.

Then he’d be gone from the world.

“Somewhere…at some point in time…horrible things happened to our city. And to all the people in it. There’s someone who seeks to destroy and rebuild the world from the ground up, and we’re all just a bunch of mass casualties of that vision.”

“I have no reason to believe anything you say.” Kunikida narrowed his eyes and moved the gun slightly off to the side. “I’ve heard of no such threats, and you’re telling me someone will destroy the entire world?”

“And it’s coming soon—a few days, tops. A devil in disguise. You could shoot me, and we’ll all be doomed here, too.” Dazai reached out and pushed the gun aside. He noticed Kunikida’s grip tighten as he reluctantly lowered it to his side. A slight smile played on Dazai’s lips. A tiny victory even if a giant chasm stood between them. They couldn’t be friends, but it was something.

“Is that supposed to be your reasoning for tormenting half the agency—that there’s someone out there worse than you? Because it sounds exactly like something I would expect someone from a criminal organization to say to explain away the blood on their hands.”

“And how many of yours have blood on their hands?” Dazai shot back. “We do what needs to be done, for the benefit of Yokohama. Isn’t that right?” Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply and opened them again, expression softening. “You say you don’t believe me, but I’m glad you heard me out, at least. …You haven’t changed.” Turning away, Dazai heard fabric rustle and an annoyed grunt, no longer feeling the killing urge radiate from Kunikida.

It was replaced with frustration. And a sort of defeat.

“May we meet again in a kinder life, Kunikida-kun.”

Spotify Ask Game!

[imreallyonthishellsite]

idk abt the rest of yall but I want more angst around noes memory ability. And not just the "ohh noe can see into memories and can never drink vanitas' blood and the moment he does vani will never trust him again 😱😥" No!! I want to see noe having trouble remembering what memories are his and which are the ones he took from another person. I want to see him begin to tell a story of something he randomly remembered only to be reminded that its not his memory. I want to see him feeling another person emotions from sharing memories and struggle to disconnect from it because it never even happend to him. Or feeling guilty over another's action that they did in the memory and having to told that he doesn't have to feel guilty bc it wasn't him and struggling to explain his feelings about why does anyway.

Just give me more of noe struggling with his powers.