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#I think so many people probably need to here this
shanastoryteller · 3 days
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Happy birthday!more female wei wuxian please
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
If Jiang Cheng is captured or killed, they'll kill Madame Yu and Uncle Jiang and Jiang Cheng. Jiang Yanli is an heir, but not one that can lead their people into battle, and they won’t bother keeping hostages for her benefit.
Wei Wuxian could do it – but with Jiang Cheng gone, she loses her place in the clan, she can't become the wife of their future sect leader if he’s dead. She’s the logical one to lose.
Jiang Cheng is going to kill her. But they’re getting too close to the inn.
She pays a boy to take the medicine and a note back to them in an hour’s time, then whistles, clear and bright cutting through the crowd. The Wen soldiers look at her and she’s hungry and tired but this is her clan’s life on the line here, her sister’s, her fiance’s. “Looking for me?”
There’ a moment of stillness then they’re surging forward and she’s running and they’re chasing and she’s very, very good but they’re fresh. She needs to go someplace they won’t follow.
They’re not too far from Yiling, she thinks.
~
Jiang Cheng is going to kill her.
He wants to go after her, but he doesn’t even know where she is, and that would mean leaving A-jie defenseless on her own, which he can’t do, and Wei Wuxian would never forgive him for doing anyway.
They set a punishing pace to Jin territory, which is where the disciples were instructed to meet up with them. A bit of gamble, but Wei Wuxian had pointed out that Jin Guangshan would likely be playing both sides of the war to his advantage, which is as close to neutral territory as they were going to get.
Once he delivers A-jie to the rest of their disciples, he can leave them to protect her and can leave her to organize them and he can go after Wei Wuxian. He thinks that three hostages is probably one too many – two too many, really, and he wonders how long it will be before his mother’s mouth gets her killed. If they do put her and Wei Wuxian together, that would move up that timetable exponentially.
Part of him is scared Wei Wuxian’s already dead. The rest of him knows better.
If she were dead, the Wen would be flaunting and bragging about. If they’d killed her, they’d be using it to draw him out, but so far there’s been nothing.
Of course, she ruins his plans like always because just when he’s getting ready to go out searching, she appears in the camp and grabs his shoulders and says, “You’ll never guess what I figured out!”
She’s been missing for almost three weeks and just as soon as he feels like he can breathe again he’s going to strangle her. “You!” he hisses and then he’s grabbing her, yanking her into his chest and holding her so tightly that she probably can’t breathe either, although for a different reason.
She’s hugging him back just as tightly, which makes him feel slightly less like he’s losing his mind. He pulls back and she’s wearing robes that she definitely stole and – “Why do you have a flute?”
Wei Wuxian beams, rocking back on her heels.
Most of Jiang Cheng’s relief drains to wariness.
That expression on her face has never meant anything good.
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htchnr · 10 hours
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♰ 'bout damn time ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚
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➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!
CW ➻ mention of being a little hungover ⋆ Cooper being rude to Lucy (as always) ⋆ lowkey lovesick Cooper ⋆ other than that not much ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
PAIRING ➻ the same reader x Cooper relationship from this drabble series!
SUMMARY ➻ after a while of travelling, seems all Lucy had to do was get rid of the Vault suit. OR, many times Cooper is nice to you, and one time he isn't mean to Lucy. WC ➻ 750~.
AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm taking a short break from writing! no longer than a few weeks don't worry! college finals are getting closer, plus life's getting pretty busy so i could use all the time i can get to take it easy and not over work myself. so here have a cute silly fic before i go on break 😁
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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Lucy notices Cooper's deep care for you through both little things.
those things would include giving you the first cooked skewer of meat off a fire, (not before he takes a piece off to taste or see if it might make anyone (you) sick.) he always has you walking in front of him, then Lucy in front of you. wether he does this so he can stare at your ass all day, or to make sure he can always keep an eye on you she'll never know.
he lends you his hat from time to time, mainly when your headaches are bad or he notices you could use some cover from the harsh sun of California. Lucy's even seen Cooper lend you his duster if it's particularly cold at night. hell, he even allows you to snuggle up to him for extra warmth. she mainly thinks he allows this so he can keep better watch on you, but a small part inside her thinks that he likes the comfort of your body against his.
despite him knowing you can more than handle yourself in a fight he always puts himself first, as if to scope out any possible things that could happen and catch whatever bad things come first.
and perhaps the thing Lucy has grown to adore the most, is watching Cooper wordlessly extend a hand to you — wether you fall behind a little and he reaches to hold your hand, or to help you get up. it almost feels like she's invading something intimate and personal when she catches glimpses of the actions.
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the market is loud and busy, full of people buying and selling a wide range of things. you had moved through town in the hopes for a hotel, the last bounty having paid more than enough for a few nice nights of sleep.
"hey, you need anythin'?" Cooper asks from beside you as the three of you walk through a busy market. "i'll do an extra poke 'round for whatever."
you nod, "i'm good i think," you reply, and Cooper looks at you with that 'yeah sure' look, as if to nudge you to think harder. looking down at your thin coat, you sigh, "okay.. maybe if you can find a better coat anywhere? winter's coming up and it would be very nice of you?" you smile at him, another warm autumn breeze blowing past.
he nods, scarred fingers rolling the caps around in his coat pocket. "well i would like some-" Lucy speaks up.
"zip it Vaultie, didn't ask." he huffs, raising a hand to pat your shoulder. "i'll be back," he nods to you, looking over your shoulder to give Lucy a sour, unamused look.
you nod back, "if we're not here in a bit we'll probably be back at the hotel, my feet are killing me and last night at the bar was too much," you groan, rolling your shoulders. Cooper nods, walking off.
you huff with a small smile before moving along the market stalls to peruse for more med supplies. Lucy scoffs behind you, walking up to your side. you look over to her, brows twitching with tired curiosity. "hm?" you hum, as if asking her what's up.
she shrugs, "how does he keep doing it?" she asks, her face displaying her confusion and frustration.
you shake your head, looking over at a stall. "what do you mean?"
"switching like that," she adjusts her backpack. "he's shockingly nice with you, asking you if you need anything, then when i pitch in all of that is gone and he snaps," she huffs.
you wave her off, "it's nothing personal," you reply, eyes glued to a stall selling a bunch of clothes. "well, probably anyway." you pull Lucy along with you, stopping before the stall. "you know what might lessen his snappy-ness towards you?" you turn to her, her big doe eyes blinking back at you.
"what?" she answers.
"getting rid of that Vault suit." you point to the massive crate full of clothes. "pick a few things out, i'll pay, and we'll call it a uh, little experiment, yeah?"
she thinks for a minute, the Vault suit did have it's benefits, but it was also a blaring neon sign telling people where she's from. which Lucy has learned the hard way that that's usually not beneficial anymore. she nods, hands moving to start sifting through the pile of clothes.
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the sun has long since set by the time the two of you got back to the hotel. you had briefly looked around the market for Cooper, but upon not finding him you decided to just head back to the hotel. you sluggishly walked up the steps, occasionally eyeing Lucy's new clothes. it sure took some getting used to, not having that hideous Vault suit to look at.
you stepped up the final stair, walking through the short hall until you reached the door of the room you were renting. you unlocked the door, finding Cooper lounging on a chair in the corner of the room. "hey," you offer, letting Lucy walk in before closing and locking the door.
Lucy eyed Cooper as you two came it, watching for any change in his expression. yet, she got nothing.
he groans as he gets up, grabbing his hat and chucking it on the bed you and him shared. he reached for something that laid on the bed, then chucked it your way. you caught the item, moving it around in your hands — a thick coat.
you grinned, "thank you! it looks my size too!" you put on the coat, grinning as it fits almost perfectly.
he cracks a small smile, nodding. "not a problem, dollface."
Lucy looks between the two of you, watching as you take the coat off and throw it over a chair. you set down your heavy bag and pull your boots off, throwing yourself face first into the bed. god that feels good, you think to yourself.
Cooper huffs, throwing his duster over your new(ish) coat. "c'mon move those legs, else you're sleepin' on the floor." Lucy's eyes widen, he'd never, right? though the tone in his voice doesn't hold an ounce of seriousness. well, just the part where he asked you to move.
you groan into the mattress, mumbling something he can't hear. "c'mon, move it doll," he grunts as he kneels on the bed, strong, scarred hands gripping your thighs as he shoves you to one side of the bed and goes to lay down not before landing a crude slap on your ass. he rests his head against the headboard, his hat tipped forward to cover his eyes.
you let out a long, tired sigh, turning to face him. you lay beside him, hands idly fiddling with one of his belts. you lean in closer, voice hushed. "y'know," sleep lacing your voice. "managed to get her to ditch the suit, it'd be nice if you would say something,"
Cooper's hairless brows furrow as he sighs. you let out a yawn, nudging your head against his shoulder as you slowly drift asleep, hands merely resting against his hip.
Lucy always finds herself quietly observing you two, watching the little strangely affectionate gestures between you and the man who seems to have it out for her. like now, she watches him sigh deeply, before lightly shaking his head.
"hey Vaultie?"
Lucy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, even though it's quiet as to not wake you.
"yeah?" the corners of her lips almost twitching.
"'bout damn time you got rid of it."
Lucy's lips pull into a small smile. the comment might not have meant much to anyone else, but to her it was neutral, rather than his usual hostility. and she'll take any win, no matter how small.
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TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x @keyofgigi
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drdemonprince · 5 hours
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Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!
Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:
Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.
The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:
Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.
Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it
Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.
Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)
In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.
and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.
also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!
good luck!
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livrere-green · 2 days
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ATLA x Omegaverse AU
Part 1 | Part 2
I've been thinking about an omegaverse atla au a lot recently, so I'm gonna vent about it cuz it's getting tiring just to have it spiralling in my head ngl
So, the only thing that I need to mention now it's that the standard age at which someone presents is around 13 to 14 years old. Knowing that, lets talk about the main characters.
Aang (12) would be unpresented by the time of the show. Also, I don't believe that being the avatar makes him an alpha perse. I mean, there's a possibility he presents as one (but he could also be a beta), and it wouldn't have anything to do with his avatar status (historically there could be a higher rate of avatars being alphas/betas, but there are some important exceptions... iykwim). Well, I think he'd present at age 13 almost 14.
Katara (14) is one of the characters that confuses me the most in this aspect, but just to add fuel to her fury and her personality, I'll make her an omega, not the kind that rejects her nature but the kind that embraces it and doesn't see it as something that makes her inferior or helpless. Katara would fight against the life society wants to impose on her in the same way she does in canon, maybe even more. She would resent the people who doesn't respect her because of her gender (just make it double), and at some point, she'd get frustrated about it, but she would think that hating herself would mean letting them win. About her presentation, there's two option: 1. She presented some months before they found Aang, 2. She presented during the first months they were traveling to the NWT (in this case, I think the ideal place would've been Kyoshi Island, because there's people able to take care of her there).
Sokka (15) would be an alpha, he probably presented after Hakoda left (14), he fits the type and the stereotypical personality at the beginning of the show. But I think he would get over it sooner rather than later and he would learnt to respect and don't underestimate betas and omegas just based on their nature. Also, I think that Sokka would scent the Gaang to protect them and particularly to cover Katara's scent as they travel or run away from trouble.
Toph (12) would be unpresented by the time of the show. She'd present as an alpha some time after the end of the war (13). There's not a lot to explain here (talking about her at that age, except for the fact that even during her time with the Gaang, she probably hated Sokka's essence, just as an early hint about her gender). I consider that there's a lot to discuss about her as an adult and how she managed her relationships, but that's a discussion for another time.
Zuko (16) would be an omega, and also a late bloomer, probably presented a couple of years after his banishment (15).. Zuko would be determined to hide his true nature under any circumstances, letting only his Uncle know about it. Ozai would've been informed that his son is a beta, which was already a disappointment for the Royal Family (historically alphas), but it wasn't nearly as negative as being reduced to be treated as an omega. Zuko would end up causing himself a lot of damage in order to disguise as a beta, either by using too many suppressants or other medications, or even hurting himself physically and mentally. He would stop hiding he's an omega after joining the Gaang but It'll be complicated, since he'd be distressed all the time and even Aang and Toph would be able to notice (their senses are not totally develop, so it'll be kinda alarming).
Suki (15) would be a beta, presented at 14. In her case, the characteristics of its gender would be especially helpful to mediate conflict or get out of it. The scent of a beta has calming effects in both alphas and omegas, so she would use it with her friends, or even in battle, to make her opponents lose focus, particularly if their driven by rage. The fans are particularly helpful for that.
Azula (14) would present early as an alpha (12/13). At that age, one of the traits she would manifest the most is assuming the position of head of the pact with her friends, she'd probably scent them with the intention of establishing superiority and control over them. In this context, Mai would be a beta and Ty Lee an omega or a beta as well.
That's all for now, I still have some things in mind for this, but I'll share that later, and if you have questions, I'll be happy to answer!
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Okay here's one. I really dont think I'm the asshole but my ex sure does.
AITA for refusing to buy my partner a jar of pickles?
So this story has like, a little background and some confounding factors i think but i really could go both ways on whether i was the asshole.
Ill start with both my ex (21nb) and i (23f) had severe mental health issues and were working on treatment when we were together. Theyd been in and out of inpatient stays throughout our three year relationship. Towards the Day of Pickles, i had my first inpatient stay where i got help i desperately needed to keep myself safe. This happened to be about a week after my 23rd birthday, but about two and a half weeks before their 21st birthday.
Anyway, at that time i had just gotten out of the hospital and started a new job at Joanns Fabrics (i outlived that retail fucker and im proud of it). I had been unemployed for the previous year and a half because of the pandemic and so the retail job was really my saving grace to have some sort of income to buy gas and groceries. My parents let me live rent free with them in their basement but i spent a LOT of time essentially squatting at my ex's dorm because my situation with my parents was not great.
Now my ex was also being financially abused by their mom so they had a monthly "allowance" of 200$ (of their own money they made at their on campus job) and no access to their bank statements. So i spent a lot of my own money on gas and groceries for both of us, and anything we wanted to do for fun, like visit the city. Without an income, this was SUPER stressful for me and i spiraled pretty hard with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Supporting two people, even minimal living expenses, on an income of exactly 0$ is the WORST.
Anyway, i got out of the hospital and pretty much immediately went back to picking up as many shifts as i could at work because id been on staff for all of two weeks before hospitalization. Knowing retail, i was probably on the precipice of losing hours or being fired altogether.
My ex wanted me to take time off to celebrate their 21st birthday (they didnt celebrate my birthday that year) and travel to see their family and drink etc. I got scheduled for an inconvenient time. I would have to miss their birthday if i didnt find someone to cover. I managed to switch shifts with another coworker who was nice enough to let me have her morning shift, so i was able to at least travel separately and be a little late to dinner.
The night of their birthday my ex wanted to get drunk and so we went to the liquor store. Now im generally pretty picky about alcohol but if i get anything special i always get enough to share. Mysteriously, no one ever offers to share the expense or pay me back. So with all of 150$ in my account, i purchased enough alcohol for myself and the rest of the party, and a bottle of (cheap af) liquor for myself. I was broke af until my next paycheck and was pretty much planning on giving up meals and staying at home because the commute to work was shorter and meant less gas.
My ex picked out a jar of boozy pickles and asked if i would get it for them for their birthday. I should note that with all the stress i was under i had found a birthday present for them but hadnt actually placed the order (was waiting to get paid). I also didnt lie to them about this and had told them that i hadnt gotten their birthday present yet. They were upset by this and told me they felt like i didnt care about them, to which i snapped and raised my voice a little.
I gave them a bit of a reality check. I told them in no uncertain terms that i was under a lot of stress, from nearly killing myself to being flat broke with little to no help from my family other than a conditional roof over my head, ordering their birthday present wasnt super high on my list of things to do and that i knew what i was going to get them and that i intended to order it as soon as i had the money to do so. After years of the sole attention being focused on keeping them alive, i needed some support and acting like i didnt care completely ignored EVERYTHING i did to keep us both afloat.They cried and played the victim as they tended to do and i was too stressed to do anything but be angry.
So when they asked for the pickles i told them no. I have NOTHING left in my bank account, and anything that was in my account was already allocated for something else.
They told me i was being selfish for buying myself alcohol on THEIR birthday, not even getting them a present, yelling at them, and then refusing to buy the one thing they asked for, especially after i refused to take off work the day before to hang out with them and their family. In front of our friends.
I told them that i was purchasing the alcohol for the whole party, that the present had slipped my mind, and that they were accusing me of not caring about them when i snapped. Then i walked out.
My bff went outside to help me cool down and i told him what was going on and how stressed i was and he said that he agreed with me, it was childish to expect me to pay for everything with no help from anyone and then act like im unreasonable for having to put limits on what i can purchase.
My ex ended up getting so pissed by all of this they broke up with me two days later, saying that their birthday was the final straw for them after I'd been so codependent and relying on them too much to survive.
I think its all ridiculous given all of the stress factors i was dealing with at the time. I feel like we're all entitled to the occasional emotional outburst/bouts of forgetfulness when we're stressed. But my ex seems to think im a selfish asshole. We've been no contact for the last two years so this isnt like a pressing concern or anything but it does make me roll my eyes occasionally.
So tumblr, aita?
(Btw im also much more financially stable now that I'm fully and properly medicated and away from them.)
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https://www.tumblr.com/goldenboygate/748927575652515840?source=share
How about a blurb of happy tipsy/drunk Lando and reader on the boat and he's extra clingy and saying sweet funny things? Bonus points if she's caring for his bloody nose and he's looking at her with the gloomy sparkly eyes (we have all seen the pictures 👀🫣)
Note: the more content I see from this day, the more I think this is going in the books 😅
Cw: mentions a cut, blood, alcohol consumption
"Fill mine, please!", Lando asked one of the guys as he filled his own cup with some orange drink right on theme for the day.
When you said you'd join the celebrations for King's Day, Lando and Martin were the most excited for it and promised you one hell of a party indeed.
"Show me how you dance with your pretty hips! Baby, are my moves as good as yours?", Lando said as he swayed his hips from side to side, his knees helping him bounce slightly as he waved the cup around. The sunglasses didn't cover his blushed cheeks and big smile, but you were sure they were hiding your favourite pair of eyes, now probably squinty and glassy as he sang loudly.
"Yes, Lan, they're good", you shook your head as you laughed, letting him pull you closer to him so he could dance with you.
"My chest is full of love for you, baby", Lando whispered on your ear before he nipped at the skin there.
"We're out, Lando, there's other people here", you gasped even though you were enjoying his touches a little too much. Drunk Lando often meant an even clingier boyfriend.
"I don't care, I'm full of love for you - I love you!", he stated kissing your lips and everywhere on your face he could.
You turned around for a couple of minutes, approaching the edge so you could get a little bit of air and look at how everyone else was celebrating the day until you heard a gasp followed by Martin calling your name.
"What?", you asked before seeing Lando and his bloody nose, "Oh my word", you whispered as you approached him.
"We clicked the glasses and then this happened", Martin explained as you took a good look at the injury.
Even though it seemed like a little nick on the skin from the glass, it was bleeding a good amount, "Here's the first aid kit", someone said as they handed it to you.
"Does it hurt a lot, love?", you asked Lando as you rummaged through the bag to figure out what you had and what you could do with it.
"It's okay", he mumbled.
"Hold this, Lando, I need to find something to disinfect- we're in a boat full of alcohol drinks but medical grade stuff would be better I guess", you mumbled the last part, trying to read the label of the bottle and smelling them.
Once you look up after finding the rubbing alcohol and some cotton buds and pads, you see the gauze wrapped around his head, "like this, right, lovie?", Lando smiled, a genuine tinge of hope in his voice at helping you help him.
"Not quite", you laughed. You felt bad for doing so while he was clearly hurt despite not hearing many complaints from him.
"Let me put some steri strips - stay still, Lan, I need to see this upclose", you stated after cleaning the cut, applying the strips in a cross since you could see the skin was pulling both ways.
"Did you do it like an X? I felt that", Lando spoke, "X marks the spot for the treasure, doesn't it? I'm your treasure!", he cheered, "Taylor Swift says that it marks the spot where we fell apart, but we never fall apart baby, we're forever".
"You are, Lan, my biggest treasure", you smiled, "can you stay still for a bit longer though, please?", you asked gently still.
Lando complied with your request, staying still as you did your best to make sure the dressing was helping or at least not making the situation worse, "Is this your way of telling me you want me to get a rhinoplasty? Funny, it has rhino in it", he giggled before he attempted to make an elephant noise.
"No, baby, I love your nose just the way it is", you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose when you were happy with the improvised wound dressing, "there, all done! You even get a magic kiss for it to heal faster!".
"You're so pretty, you're really my girlfriend? Ah! Would you look at that, Martin? She's my girlfriend - I'm one lucky dude", Lando beamed at his friend before he kissed your lips, letting you sit on the edge of the boat, "you can sit there, baby, it's got railing to protect you from falling in the water - it's looks mucky", he made a disgusted face.
You sat there, glad to be able to experience these moments with your boyfriend and seeing his so carefree and happy. His PR team would maybe have to do some cleaning up, but at the end of the day, he was a happy young man enjoying his time off and he had the right to enjoy it.
"She is my girlfriend - Look, Y/N! Someone is recording us, say hi, my love!", he yelled, getting you to wave at a girl filming on another boat, "isn't she pretty? And she fixed my nose too!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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Typical Day For a Bouncer
I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!
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Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.
Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.
Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.
I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.
"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.
"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?
"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.
"Of course, sir."
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There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!
"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.
I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.
The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.
"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.
"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.
"Yes, sir."
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I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.
That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.
"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.
"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."
"No you don't!" the boy interjects.
"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."
"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"
"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.
Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.
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"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.
Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.
"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.
"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.
Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.
"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.
"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.
"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."
I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."
"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."
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I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.
He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.
"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.
"Yes, sir."
My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.
"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"
"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.
As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?
Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.
Now I'm acting like a dog!
Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.
I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?
There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?
"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.
"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.
Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.
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shockercoco · 3 days
Text
Modern Lonliness
Major John Egan x reader
Warnings - little bit of angst, but mostly fluff
Word count - 2159
a/n - this was literally supposed to be posted over a month ago for the ending of MOTA, but I kept writing for Austin lol. Might as well get it out the drafts now. I also basically had to rewrite the whole thing bc wtf was I thinking a month ago. I hope you enjoy :)
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The war is finally over, allowing all the soldiers to go home, including the two best friends Buck and Bucky. The only thing holding Bucky back from being completely content about leaving is the fact that he doesn’t have that special someone to go back to.
Buck has Marge, and of course he’s happy for him, but Bucky just wishes had found a girl before he got sent off, someone who would know how he was before the war. Buck would always tell him not to worry and that he would find someone soon, but each time it doesn’t give him any reassurance.
You have been best friends with Marge since college, so when she told you her fiance was coming home you had nothing but joy for her. You had been a huge supporter of their relationship since the beginning, and while Buck was away you were always at her house comforting her for when she cried or just needed a friend. During his absence, Buck would write to you to check in on Marge because you and him both knew Marge would never tell him how she was really doing.
Currently, you are walking out of her front door to go back home when you see a taxi pull up in the driveway. You didn’t think anything of it until you saw Buck exiting the vehicle with his bags in hand. You shout for Marge to come outside, and it doesn’t take long for her to sprint into Buck’s arms after seeing him in the driveway. With a smile, you watched as he held onto her tightly and so lovingly, knowing this is exactly what Marge needed after a bad week. 
Deep down, though, you were wishing you had someone coming home to you, someone whose arms you could run into and kiss you like his life depended on it. When it came to the dating scene you never had much luck, so after a while you just accepted the defeat and gave up, deciding it was better to put your energy towards your career. 
During your girl talks, Marge would always tell you that you would find someone soon, and how perfect of a person you were, but year after year of not finding a relationship was making it hard to believe her. 
A couple days after Buck’s return, Marge invited you over because she was hosting a barbeque for Buck and some of his friends. You tried your best to get out of it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She also mentioned that Bucky – Buck’s friend from the military who you’ve only heard while reading letters – would be there and that it would be an opportunity for you.
You didn’t find it unusual that she was trying to set you up with someone because this is what she always does, but you just weren’t in the mood to have small talk with a guy who probably wouldn’t find you attractive.
When Buck had invited Bucky – because when are they not together – he turned down the offer, and just like Marge, Buck wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
So, now here you were in Marge’s backyard surrounded by men and their partners. The only people you knew were the hosts, so you sat on the steps of the back porch with Marge beside you. Marge also didn’t know many of the guests given the fact everyone was Buck’s friend from the military, so she kept you company as she watched Buck man the grill with a few other guys beside him.
Bucky was among them, standing right next to his best friend and sipping on a beer as he talked. Every now and again, he would run a hand through his hair to push some of his loose curls, and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive as you found yourself admiring him from a distance.
“Are you going to say something to him?” Marge asked you as she swished around the lemonade in her glass. She had been watching you this whole time as you practically drooled in the direction of the grill.
“Of course not,” you say as you turn your attention back to her, not before glancing around to see if anyone else had caught you staring. 
Thankfully some of the women had formed a little group and were laughing and gossiping amongst themselves, so there was little chance anyone had noticed you.
“And why not?” asked Marge with furrowed brows. “He’s a nice guy, I promise.”
“I’m sure he is, but it’s not like I know what to say. Plus look at him, he’s way out of my league,” you reply as you take a sip of lemonade from your own glass. 
“No he’s not, he’s just like any other guy,” she scoffs followed by a laugh.
“And just like with any other guy, I have nothing to talk about. What do we even have in common? He also just got back from a war camp in Europe, what if I say something that triggers him? 
“You’re overthinking. Just start off with a simple hello, and then go from there. He’s a huge flirt so knowing him he’ll do most of the talking,” she smiles. 
She was always so optimistic about these kinds of things, but you would be too if you were getting married to a guy who basically worships you.
You quickly finish the last of your lemonade before standing up. “I’m going to get a refill,” you mumble as you walk up the steps and into the house. You needed an excuse to get away from the conversation, and to get out of the heat. The sundress you were wearing was cute and gave you airflow, but it also exposed your arms and legs to harsh sun.
You head into the kitchen and open the fridge to take out the pitcher of lemonade Marge had made earlier in the day. After refilling your glass, you thought it was best to linger in the kitchen for a bit longer and decided to grab a plate of fruit out of the fridge to keep you busy.
Just as you jump up on the kitchen counter to get comfortable, you hear the back door opening. Next thing you know, you see Bucky walking into the kitchen, letting out a sigh that seems to be of exhaustion. He flashes you a smile when he notices you, before proceeding to grab another beer out of the fridge.
“You’re Marge’s friend right?” he asks as he shuts the door and turns to face you. 
“Yep,” is all you say before sticking a grape in your mouth.
“I’m John, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he says. He makes direct eye contact as sticks a hand out for you to shake, which you do, before popping the cap off his beer.
“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen your picture in Marge’s letters,” you respond as you focus your attention on the plate in your hands and begin moving some fruit around.
“Oh, yeah? Did I atleast look good in those pictures? Buck never lets me read his letters,” He smirks as he leans against the counter opposite from you.
You almost choke on the piece of fruit you had just placed in your mouth from his statement. You feel your face and ears turning warm so you turn your head and look out the kitchen window to avoid his gaze.
You stop yourself from smiling and cover it by clearing your throat. “Well  you were in a uniform and in black and white, so I couldn’t really tell.” 
“Understandable, black and white photos can be misleading,” he jokes, taking a swig from his bear. There’s a short silence that follows that isn’t completely awkward, but not exactly comfortable to you either. You hope he doesn’t notice.
The silence is interrupted by the back door opening and Marge sticking her head inside. She grins as her eyes flicker between you and Bucky before stopping on you to say, “Are you coming back out or what?”
“In a second, I’m just going to cool off in here for a bit,” you tell her. She gives you a nod before closing the door.
“Not a fan of big gatherings, I take it,” Bucky says once Marge is gone.
“What makes you say that?” you steal a glance at him before looking back out the window.
You smile as you watch Marge join Buck at the grill, making him turn his head to give her a quick kiss.
“I can tell you’re avoiding going back outside, and I don’t blame you. I’m doing the same thing myself,” he answers.
“What are you avoiding?” you finally turn your head to face him.
“Nothing specific really, I’m just not in the mood for conversating and answering people’s questions right now. That doesn’t include you though,” he looks over at you with a small smile. ” I used to love being around people and having fun, but now all I want to do is leave.” 
You watch as Bucky stares at the wall, going distant. His mood seems to have shifted from the one he had when he first stepped foot in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”
Your voice interrupts his thoughts and brings him back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just…I can tell I’m a different person ever since I got back, and I’m not sure I like this version of me.” He sets his beer on the counter and folds his arms, no longer in the mood to drink it. 
“I don’t think anyone expects you to be the same.”
“Well yeah, it’s just the fact that everyone I meet from now on will only know this version of me. They won’t know how different I was before the war, and they won’t understand what I’ve been through. Like Buck has Marge to talk to, and she understands because of the letters he would send her. I don’t have that,” Bucky says before adding, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump this all on you.”
You just give him a smile. Even though you will never understand completely what Bucky went through, you do have some grasp on what he’s feeling. To you it’s obvious that he puts on a mask when he’s around people, and won’t let his feelings show unless he’s alone – harboring his emotions.
“I know how close you are with Buck, have you ever told him about how you felt? It always helps to talk to someone.” you tell him.
He shakes his head, “No, I don’t want to bother him. He has his own problems.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” you tell him, but he just shakes his head again. “Well...I know we’ve just met, but you could talk to me. I mean, you just opened up to me in a kitchen within ten minutes of meeting me. I’m obviously a great listener Only if you want to, though,” you end with a hopeful smile.
Bucky finally looks away from the wall to look you in the eye with his eyebrows raised. “Really?” he asks and you nod. “That would be nice.”
And that’s where the bond between the two of you started, and it only continued to grow stronger. You would meet up with him for drinks, lunch, or just for a walk through the park. Bucky would tell you everything, from him joining the military and meeting Buck to what he has experienced throughout the past few years. You could tell that he would get emotional when he brought up certain topics, but he never cried around you, even though you always encouraged him to let his feelings out.
One day when he invited you to dinner, you brought it up to Marge. She quickly got excited and said it was a date, but you just brushed it off and told her it was just another casual meeting. Nonetheless, you still decided to put effort into your appearance – more than you normally do – and once the dinner was over, you realized she was right.
Bucky ended up confessing to you how his feelings for you have grown over the past few weeks. At first you were shocked, but when you realized he was being serious, you admitted that you felt the same way. 
You didn’t care that Bucky thought he was a ruined person with a lot of baggage, everyone has their hardships, after all. Bucky loved how you enjoyed being with him after everything he had told you, and how you accepted him for who he is now.
When you eventually told Marge that you and Bucky were official, she wasn’t surprised at all and brought up how she always said you would find someone. When Bucky had told his best friend, Buck was happy for him and gave Bucky his fair share of I told you so’s.
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galedekarios · 2 days
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Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.
You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!
i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.
i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:
they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.
they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.
they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.
the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.
for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.
add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:
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[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!
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[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.
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[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.
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[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.
i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:
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Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)
...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.
additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.
as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.
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clairedaring · 2 days
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watching ep 1 of my stand in, my impression was that the series emphasized quite a lot on joe's bottom virginity...
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gif of the wonderful @supanuts
... yet they forgot to include my two most favorite little tidbits regarding this is (1) joe explaining why he's always been top his entire life and (2) joe forewarning ming before they fuck that if his sex skills is mid, he better tell him first. so here are the two excerpts from chapter 10 and chapter 11 respectively.
1. joe explaining why he's been top all his life (this happens during their meal at the restaurant together)
Yan Ming Xiu looked at him. Zhou Xiang’s attraction and desire for him is so obvious that it can’t even be concealed. Actually, there is no reason to conceal it. Between men, it’s better to be direct. Each takes what one needs. Zhou Xiang leaned close to him and softly asked, “So, have you really forgotten me?” Yan Ming Xiu gripped his chin and gently touched his lips, “Maybe I’ve only just remembered you.” Zhou Xiang burst out in laughter, “It’s quite timely.” He bit YanMingXiu’s lips, gently tugging it, “But I’ve been thinking of you every day.” Yan Ming Xiu asked softly, “Think of me? Thinking of me topping you?” “Actually, of me topping you but if you’re not willing, I can only suffer this time.” “You’ve really never been a 0?” Zhou Xiang jokingly responded, “Nope. I wanted to be (a zero) when I was young, but people wouldn’t even look at me because they thought I looked too mature. When I got older, it was even more unlikely. There are more 0’s than 1’s in the circle…so many fresh meats waiting for me; you think I’d go looking for people to top me?” Yan Ming Xiu gently reached his hand into Zhou Xiang’s clothes and pinched his slender waist, then says coarsely, “So then, if you’re going to do it with me, it’ll be your first time (being a zero)?” Zhou Xiang laughed, “Exactly. Don’t you have to be responsible?” “Haven’t topped you yet, what’s there to be responsible for?”
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2. joe forewarning ming before having sex
Zhou Xiang smiled at him, “Let’s agree on something first. I still have to work the day after tomorrow. If your skills are not up to par, you better say so ahead of time, don’t dupe me.” He’s heard of people having to go to the hospital from their first time (being a 0). He just wants to have sex. That’s all. He didn’t want to be embarrassed. Although his words sound quite conservative, Zhou Xiang’s eyes have already nakedly swept at Yan Ming Xiu’s abs. His muscles are too beautiful and his skin so exquisite that it’s reflective. Yan Ming Xiu looks very thin when he’s wearing clothes but that’s probably because he’s so tall. Zhou Xiang didn’t expect that once Yan Ming Xiu remove his clothes, his body would be so firm, paired with his long legs and his face, click-click (clicking his tongue sound), his mood right now is just like a straight male having sex with an exceptional beauty.
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so yea these are my two favorite bits that didn't really make the cut even though they were definitely hinting at it already. the other is probably joe was invited to a threesome (to which he declined) before getting the call from ming for that meal.
but in general, i think the series is really fast paced as opposed to the novel and i can see them being able to go through most major plot points of the novel. incredibly excited for ep 2 as everyone could probably tell from my spamming of my stand-in gifs these past two days.
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theheartofthestar · 2 days
Text
Prompt 28 - Dogwalking AU
@wolfstarmicrofic - April 28th, 1284 words
The doorbell rings in the middle of a Saturday, and Padfoot, bless that big silly boy, barks and wags his tail in his better impersonation of a golden retriever.
When Remus picked him up from the shelter, he was told Padfoot was a dog not many people took interest in, big and black as he was, people assumed he'd be aggressive. No matter he was actually a sweet silly puppy at heart, no matter his previous owner had obviously trained him well. In French of all languages, but still, well trained once you got the hang of the right commands.
It was Lily who had called him, almost begging him to take this dog. Padfoot was clearly struggling to adapt to the shelter, needed extra cuddles from the humans, and although he was very friendly, the volunteers could see him getting sadder by the day. So Lily, in her endless wisdom, had called the one friend who also needed some extra company, who also needed those extra cuddles, and who struggled to voice that need. And so Remus had found himself with a lap full of Padfoot and jumpers that would forever be interwoven with black dog hair.
Enough to say it had been some very happy six months so far.
So here they are, cuddling on the sofa, Remus with a cup of tea on one hand and a dark romance novel in the other, something he's reading for the bookclub Mary roped him into. Padfoot lying down mostly on top of him, a happy dog smile on his furry little face as he drools in his sleep. The doorbell rings and Padfoot scrambles up, paws expertly finding and painfully digging in all of Remus' soft places.
"Coming! Just a sec! No, Pads, back, stand back- No, Padfoot, wait, listen you need to let me open the door-" Remus finally manages to push Padfoot out of the way and open the door just a crack. Outside, there are two handsome young men, one big and buff and sporting a pair of glasses that would look nerdy on anyone else but on him just look sexy, and one tall and lean, leather jacket and wide legged pants hugging a tight waist barely visible under a crop top.
Remus immediately can be sure of two things: one, it's been way too long since he got laid if he's thirsting so hard over strangers, and two, this is probably a type of scam, since how else would two people that looked like this ever knock randomly on Remus' door?
"Hi!" The dark skinned one says with a bright smile. Padfoot barks louder, trying to push against Remus' legs.
"No, Pads, please shh- Hello?" Remus answers.
"Is that your dog?" Says the man in leather, hands in his pockets, but head trying to peak behind Remus. Padfoot barks and barks and barks.
"Yeah?" Remus says, and it's almost a question. "Sorry for the noise, if that's the problem, we're usually a lot quieter than this, he's just excit-"
"He's a very handsome dog" interrupts the man, eyes shining.
"...ok" Remus doesn't want to be rude, really, but what ever? He almost closes the door in their faces, he would have, if he wasn't both trying to hold the door and stop Padfoot from pushing it open. "No, Pads, please, what is happening, love? Please shhh"
"I told you it was Padfoot!" Says the one with the glasses, slapping the other man on the back and then coming even closer, to kneel by Remus' door and try to pet Padfoot through the small crack. Padfoot goes berserk at this. "Name's James, this is Sirius-" James nods to the other man, and then his voice shifts to a baby voice "-and this is baby Padfoot, yes you are, yes you are baby boy, who's the bestest boy?"
"How did you, uhm, did you find my address from the shelter?" Remus says, thinking maybe Lily lead them here.
"The shelter? He was in a shelter?" Sirius eyes snap up to Remus' face, searching for something. His eyes are still shining dangerously.
"Oh no, I saw you two walking and I followed you the other day" James says casually, as if that's just the most normal thing to do, follow people home, and then adds, with a wink "I could recognize my nephew anywhere"
Remus finally opens the door, and Padfoot runs out, jumping up and down, around the two men. He then jumps right up onto Sirius chest, huge black dog being held like the most precious thing, and Sirius just starts bawling, right then and there, against Padfoot's fur. The dog licks his face and wags his tail. Remus is moved but also very, very confused.
"I was told he was surrendered" Remus says, doubtfully, after the sobs diminish. "His family couldn't take care of him anymore"
"They told me they killed him" Sirius says, and starts sobbing hard again. James runs a hand up and down his back, looking pained.
"Maybe Reggie took him. He's smart like that, and you always said he loves animals, he probably lied to them" James says, and looks at Remus as if asking for support on this. Remus almost throws his hands up. What can he even say? He doesn't know who this Reggie person is! Hell, he doesn't know who these two men are!
"So" Remus starts, feeling at a loss but also starting to feel slightly annoyed. Whoever these people are, they are clearly the previous owners, but Remus- well, Remus loves this dog, alright? And he's not going to let him go, especially not back to the family that abandoned him in the first place. "I'm sorry, but- you can't take him"
The two men look up at him, Sirius still teary eyed, James tilting his head as if confused.
"You can't take him with you, I mean" Remus says, hoping his voice sounds more confident than he feels. "He's- we live together, now, he's been living here for months, and he was in the shelter a long time too, so I don't think-"
"No, I understand" Sirius interrupts, and Padfoot finally jumps down. Wagging his tail happily, watching all of them with big, happy eyes.
"Sirius-" James starts, voice unsure.
"No, James, that makes sense. This is his home now and I think..." Sirius trails off.
"Remus"
"...I think Remus is right" he finishes, hand on his hips and nodding as if trying to convince himself.
James looks at Sirius with something close to heartbreak in his eyes, Sirius looks at Padfoot adoringly, Padfoot comes to Remus, all silly smiles and happy tail, and Remus says something he had never considered before.
"Maybe you could walk him, sometimes?" Remus says, and when two sets of eyes look up at him, he blushes. "I mean, he will still live here, but if you want... You could take him for walks, or to the dog park"
"Oh! Like joint custody!" James perks up with a bright smile. Remus winces.
"Like dogwalking" Remus corrects, but he sees Sirius' hopeful smile.
"Yeah, I'd- I'd love that, actually."
Remus' heart beats faster when Sirius looks him straight in the eyes. He suddenly has a feeling this will all be too much like co-parenting.
He blushes, and when Sirius says he'll stop by the next day and asks Remus for his favorite coffee order so he can bring some for him, Remus fights the urge to bite his lip like a teenage girl.
He closes the door, and slides down until he's sitting with his back against it, and a lap full of happy, panting Padfoot.
"Oh, Pads, what did we get ourselves into?"
-
You can read more of my work here
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feybarn · 1 day
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And I return with some ghost Obi. Thanks @queenaelinwildfire!
Spinning off of Sparky, ghost Obi haunting Jango Ooo bonus points if it’s smol obi wan
When the boy first appeared, Jango had been sure it’d been the spice. Hallucinations were hardly new and the young boy who stared at him with frightened eyes was hardly the strangest thing he saw. In fact, the boy who whispered warnings about when the slavers were coming, and told him that Neeva—the young togruta girl a few slaves down—was dying, and told him stories about men in white armor who died forgotten heroes, was perhaps the kindest hallucination that Jango experienced.
Except the boy didn’t go away. Not when Jango killed the slavers. Not when Jango detoxed. Not when Jango left behind all but the scars of his time with the slavers.
Jango hadn’t quite believed in ghosts before, but he had no other explanation for the boy that followed him unerringly from the slavers’ ship to Concord Dawn to the ugly, worn down ship he eventually acquired.
“You have a reason for haunting me, kid?” he asked.
The boy frowned. His hand came to his neck where a collar rested.
Jango had tried not to think about that particular accessory too much.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I… I don’t remember how I got here.”
Jango was going to guess that the answer included ‘dying’. “You need help moving on?” Jango asked. Though he had no idea how he would help some ghost move on. Jaster would have, though.
Jango blocked out the thought.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I don’t think so. I think I’m here for a reason.”
Great. A reason. That explained so much. “What’s your name?”
The boy’s brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know.” The boy sounded alarmed, as though he’d just realized he didn’t have a name.
Well, there went trying to track down where the boy had come from. All Jango had to go on was the rough mining clothes the boy was wearing, several sizes too large for him, and the collar around his neck.
Mining colonies weren’t exactly sparse in this galaxy. Even narrowing it down to mining colonies that used slavery didn’t help.
The Republic might claim that slavery was outlawed, but that didn’t mean much, Jango had discovered.
“Do you have a name you want me to call you?” Jango asked, because while Jango could keep calling him ‘the boy’ it seemed…
Wrong.
If Myles were here, Myles would have already named the kid. It’d probably have been something meaningful and well thought out.
If Silas were here, he’d have helped the kid come up with a name on his own. He’d have turned it into a game, until the kid didn’t even remember he was upset.
If Jaster were here…
Jango tried not to think about what Jaster would have done.
The boy frowned and Jango could tell he was thinking. “Obi,” the boy said finally. “I think… I think I like Obi.” 
“Obi,” Jango agreed. He wondered if it was the kid’s actual name, hidden in the depths of his mind. “You going to keep following me around?”
Obi tilted his head. “I think so. I don’t want you to be alone.” Obi’s gaze was piercing. “Are you going to go home?” he asked. “Now that you’re free?”
Jango swallowed. “I don’t have a home to go to.”
Obi’s eyes echoed with a terrible sadness. “You’re afraid.”
Jango closed his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said, words coming out short. 
“Sometimes I dream I can’t go home either,” Obi whispered. “In the dream, I want the desert sands to strip me to my bones.”
Jango flinched, but added the piece of information to the possibility of where Obi had come from. Though, there were a spare few mining colonies on desert planets. The combination was rarely conducive to the most valuable of mining operations.
“It’s not the same kid.”
Obi stared at him. “I think they’d want you to come back.” His hand rubbed at the metal collar around his neck again. “Wherever home is. They… they probably miss you.”
Jango scoffed. He’d gotten so many of their people killed, the ones that remained could hardly want him back. “Not likely, kid.”
“In my dreams, they died because of me,” Obi whispered.
Apparently being a ghost made the kid telepathic. Jango was not a fan. But it was… it was a kid, a dead kid. Jango didn’t have the heart to try to get rid of him, unless it was to bring him home.
“Just a dream, kid.”
Obi looked away. “What if it’s not? Do… do we never get to go home?”
Jango sighed. “Come on, let me teach you how to navigate in and out of hyperspace.” He’d noticed that the kid looked like he enjoyed watching Jango in the cockpit. Sure, the kid would never need the skills himself, being dead and all, but Jango didn’t know what else to do with the dead kid that was stuck with Jango.
Obi nodded, following Jango back to the cockpit. It was the end of the conversation.
Or it should have been. 
The question haunted Jango as the months passed. Would he ever get to go home? With the sins that weighed so heavy on his shoulders? It’d been years. Years as a slave and now nearly a year free.
He looked at Obi, who hadn’t aged since the day he’d found Jango in the hull of the slave ship. Just a kid. Always a kid. A dead kid that couldn’t go home. Whose closest thing to home was Jango and Jango’s ship.
Jango had been determined not to think of it, of what he’d lost, of what was gone, of what he could never allow himself to have again.
Do we never get to go home?
Was that why the kid was stuck as a ghost? Had he told himself he was never allowed to go home? Had he trapped himself in some sort of eternal punishment.
Jango had never heard of it happening before, but he wasn’t a scholar, and this universe was full of things stranger than Jango could believe.
Do we never get to go home?
Was that why the kid had found him? Because he saw Jango’s punishment as his own?
Because this life Jango lived now, constantly chasing the next bounty, with nothing but a ghost at his side… was it a life? Was Jango just as much a ghost as the dead kid that haunted him.
“Where are we going next?” Obi asked when the next hunt finished.
Jango stared at the controls on the cockpit’s dashboard.
Do we never get to go home?
Did he? 
The kid needed a home. Jango… Jango couldn’t give him the one he’d been taken from. But…
“Concord Dawn,” he said.
“Where’s that?” Obi asked. “Is there a hunt there?”
Jango shook his head. “No, kid. We’re going home.”
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I have an alternate pale theory…
Consider this like a ‘Pale-AU’ (i.e. I know it is probably not supported by canon, and certainly not supported by some other works like Joshua Jenkins designs, for example… also I haven’t finished reading PJÕL, so maybe my ideas will change after that) but I started thinking about it as a “what-if” situation: If there were to be a direct sequel to Disco Elysium :insert prayer hands:, how could we reconcile the multitude of different Harrys the player could create? What about the fates of other characters? Some change due to our influence, some die. How could a sequel storyline somehow accept all those possible variances? Introducing my almost-certainly not-correct pale theory!TM using a little bit of in-game info, some real-life stuff, and a sprinkle of imagination!
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Caution: Many spoilers ahead.
So what is Pale -- just the past?
After you talk to the Phasmid you’re given the impression that humans/people created the pale accidentally (with thinking and memory and ideas and invention?); and after talking to Joyce you learn that some think the pale is “rarified past.” It’s all pretty nebulous, but I think that the pale being a product (or a by-product) of the human mind/memory is close to what could be accepted as the canon origin of the pale:
INSULINDIAN PHASMID - The pale, too, came with you. No one remembers it before you. The cnidarians do not, the radially symmetricals do not. There is an almost unanimous agreement between the birds and the plants that you are going to destroy us all. YOU - Wait, the pale is human made? INSULINDIAN PHASMID - It is a nervous shadow cast into the world by you, eating away at reality. A great, unnatural territory. Its advent coincides with the arrival of the human mind. YOU - I don't have that kind of power. INSULINDIAN PHASMID - You are a violent and irrepressible miracle. The vacuum of cosmos and the stars burning in it are afraid of you. Given enough time you would wipe us all out and replace us with nothing -- just by accident. YOU - ...how? INSULINDIAN PHASMID - We suspect it will be something like the oxygen holocaust that wiped out anaerobic life 2.6 billion years ago -- when organisms first started breathing. Only much worse. CONCEPTUALIZATION - Instead of air, you exhale thoughts. There are no trees that eat thoughts.
JOYCE MESSIER – "Some say the damage stems from extreme sensory deprivation. Others argue that pale somehow *consists* of past information, that's degrading. That it's rarefied past, not rarefied matter." JOYCE MESSIER – "They call it *the blend-over of the self*. The pale does not only suspend the laws of physics, but also the laws of psychology, maybe History, even... The human mind becomes over-radiated by past." YOU – "Who says and who argues?" JOYCE MESSIER – "The logical positivists say -- the dialectical materialists argue."
An effect of the Pale is “entroponetical crosstalk" which you can experience when you use the doorbell intercom outside the whirling and hear the woman speaking from Tricentennial Electrics a long time ago, and additionally the old pale driver also talks to you about how she’s experienced the past in the pale, like the assassination of Dolores Dei. Both are snippets of human past:
KIM KITSURAGI - "It was a recording trapped in the circuitry. From some ancient tenant. This sometimes happens. Shall we conclude here? We have other mysteries to solve." YOU - "I do have one mystery that still needs solving... the radio ghost in the Doomed Commercial Area's electronic doorbell." SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "The creepy woman!" She slaps her forehead. "We were wondering about that when we worked there... but I had completely forgotten about it ever since!" SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It must be entroponetic crosstalk. The one you get in radios and long-distance calls... Now it makes sense, with the pale right on the doorstep." KIM KITSURAGI - "Incredible..." the lieutenant murmurs. "This would also explain why we get it on the police radio all the time." YOU - "Entroponetic crosstalk?" SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It's quite common actually. When the signal gets routed through pale, all kinds of irregularities take place. You may hear snippets of someone else's conversation, or the voice of your former lover, or an echo of an event that took place 100 years ago." SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything."
PALEDRIVER - "You don't need to turn back time. The pale is already churning with it. As the tide of pale rises, so does the past. Someday both will cover the whole world. That's it. That's the story." PALEDRIVER - "They say there is a point -- one that *I* have not crossed -- in the pale superdeep. If you stray too far off course on the U41-A, or in Lomonossov's Land... where every step you take is one step further from home, no matter the direction." PALEDRIVER - "It's a point you cannot come back from. Your mind becomes so radiant with the past -- there is a flip." She flicks the ash from her cigarette. "Instead of writing, it erases memory. Nearing some kind of..." She shakes her head. "Indescribable *finale*." PALEDRIVER - "Like Gabriel Buenguerro in 'Segure-me, Paraíso'..." She nods and smiles, unkindly. "You're the opposite of me then. I remember everything -- even the things I never knew." YOU - "Things you never knew?" PALEDRIVER - "The smell of liquor on Gabriel's lips after the shoot. In the motor park. The roses on the day of Franconegro's coronation. On the grand stairs of Raehl. The smoke from the fowling piece, when Dolores Dei was shot..." PALEDRIVER - "The look on her face -- like an orgasm. The wound in her chest. My hand in my father's hand..." She closes her eyes, her eyelids trembling. "Except I never had a father. And I never shot Her Innocence Dolores Dei." .. PALEDRIVER - "Thought insertion? *Dithering*? The Graad-Katla Magistral?" She savours the lungful. "It's more than dangerous -- it's *sad*. But... at first I had to make a living. Now..."
So you’d think Joyce’s theory checks out, it’s all history/memory---BUT! I did the moralist political quest my first play thru, and when you are trying to contact the airship you also get radio crosstalk from the pale.
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's cold now..." SHIVERS - A slight frisson at the point where your neck meets your spine. Something about the lieutenant's words, directed at you, but not *you*... YOU - "It's really coming down, now that you mention it." KIM KITSURAGI - "Mention what?" YOU - "It's cold, like you just said." KIM KITSURAGI - "I didn't say anything, detective." KIM KITSURAGI - "...someone has been maintaining it. The wiring has been repaired..." HORSEBACK ANTENNA - An uncomfortable silence falls over the connection. KIM KITSURAGI - "... It's been a long winter... Long and cold..." YOU - "Are you going to tell me you didn't say *that*, either?" KIM KITSURAGI - "I promise you, I didn't, even though it certainly *sounds* like me..." The lieutenant seems to wince at the sound of his own voice. YOU - "It must be entroponetic crosstalk. It's the only explanation." NOID - "So your partner's haunting himself. Trying to warn him off his current path, most like." KIM KITSURAGI - "It's eerie, for certain, but also harmless. I just wish I could remember what I was talking about..." ESPRIT DE CORPS - Something here is eating at the lieutenant, as much as he would like to move past it.
You can even hear it if Kim is not with you:
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's cold now..." SHIVERS - A slight frisson at the point where your neck meets your spine. You can *feel* the lieutenant's presence, even though he's nowhere to be found... YOU - "Kim? How did you get on my connection?" NOID - "Whoa, the cop's *own partner* is a radio-spooker. That's some *other core* business right there..." HORSEBACK ANTENNA - ... KIM KITSURAGI - "...someone has been maintaining it. The wiring has been repaired..." YOU - "Kim! Answer me." NOID - "No use, man. Don't think he can hear you." YOU - "I've encountered this before. It's entroponetic crosstalk. This is a piece of the past mixing in with our signal." NOID - "What..." KIM KITSURAGI - "It's been a long winter... Long and cold." NOID - "What have you gotten us into, lawman?" HALF LIGHT - Just *run*. Unplug that headset and get as far away as you can.
YOU - "Kim? How did you get on my connection?" … YOU - "What is he talking about?"’ SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "I believe you mean, what *was* he talking about." YOU - "Wait, what are *you* talking about?" KIM KITSURAGI - "It's been a long winter... Long and cold." SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It sounds very much like entroponetic crosstalk. It happens sometimes when sending transmissions across long stretches of pale..."
Except IT'S NOT FROM THE PAST. It is Kim talking from the future, from the fort on the island. Which hasn’t happened yet.
And it can possibly NOT HAPPEN.
You hear Kim say this stuff even if he gets shot and doesn’t come with you to the island.
During gameplay they kind of just go “huh, how strange and spooky...” and don’t really delve into it.
But that completely changes the pale right? It’s not just past, it’s also future, and not just the ONLY future, POSSIBLE future.
So, my theory is that the pale is multiverse colliding: the near pale is the places where these universes begin to overlap, and deep pale is where universes overlap to such a degree they are cancelling themselves out into nothing.
Fungal communication – mycorrhizal network
When Joyce talks to you, she talks about a fungus growing at the edge of the porch collapse. I think this fungus could be acting like a mycorrhizal network, which in our world are an underground networks connecting fungi and plants allowing them to communicate or share information. I think the fungi/spores in Elysium pop up at origin points and thrive along the porch collapse and are allowing the universes to “talk” to each other.
SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "I understand..." She closes her eyes. "A theory of the pale where instead of an *outer ocean* it metastasises -- like a cancer or a mould -- erupting in points *inside* the world."
JOYCE MESSIER - "An uproar of matter, darling, *rising* into the pale. Rolling. Evaporating even, a great vision. The area of transition between the world and the pale is called *porch collapse*." JOYCE MESSIER - "Imagine a grey coronal mist, cold vapour, marked by spores of an opportunistic microorganism -- a mould that's adapted to grow at the edge of the unrest. It's..." JOYCE MESSIER - She closes her eyes and breathes out heavily: "... the most *disco* thing you will ever see.
INLAND EMPIRE - The white noise turns into a wall of mist and grey mould, bubbling, sweeping over the city... it tears up buildings and raises sidewalks into the sky. It's Revachol -- at the end of the world. INLAND EMPIRE - ...and it hasn't even really started yet.
Destructive interference – “le gris”
When Lena tells you about the cryptid the Col Do Ma Ma Da Qua, you learn that they are nearly extinct because the scientists played back their own calls and since they are creatures made of sound, the recordings cancelled out the birds. They died because the signals matched and cancelled each other out.
LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "It's the *Col Do Ma Ma Daqua*," the woman corrects her glasses. "Its name means 'thin whisper of sound'. And that's *precisely* what it is -- self-replicating sound waves, invisible and intangible! The Col Do Ma Ma is very afraid of us, which makes it incredibly difficult to track..." YOU - "Why is the Ma Ma Daqua so afraid of us?" LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "That is a sad story." She frowns. "A group of university students assisting with the field work, in their enthusiasm for the project and, no doubt, because they were preoccupied with impressing their professors, nearly drove it to *extinction*." YOU - "Extinction?" LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - She nods gravely. "They tried to communicate with it, and had no other means but sound. So they started sending out sound waves at frequencies they thought might match the Ma Ma Daqua's. And what happens when a sound wave meets another sound wave of the same frequency, dear?" YOU - "They cancel each other out."
So... admittedly this doesn’t directly connect to the pale, but it’s illustrating the concept of signals cancelling each other out and, I'm going to say, indicates that this concept is possible in Elysium. The pale is destruction, the overlap between universes causes matter, physics, and even numbers to dissolve. The more complete the overlap, the more complete the destruction.
In conclusion...
According to my theory, the pale is the areas of the world that are affected by these fungal organisms that allow very similar, but different universes to communicate with each other, and since their 'signals' are so alike, they are being cancelled out.
So why did I force myself to jump thru these mental hoops? I think having a multiverse like this would make a sequel more possible since there are so many ways the game can be played. Any possible playthrough would be its own universe. Having a multiverse like this acknowledges and validates any play thru as 'canon,' no player will feel that they somehow played the game “wrong.”  Whatever Harry appearing in the sequel is one of the possible Harrys even if he wasn’t “your” Harry. If a character died, they died only in some of the universes, not all. Whatever world the sequel would take place in is just one of the many possibilities.
Anyway, I thought WAYYYY too much about this and now you can too. Sorry!
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Note
So if Wukong didn't know MK was playing superhero, why was he able to be caught by Spider Queen? The answer is clear. He took the younger cubs down to see the parade. That way, he could be closer to the fireworks, and his kids are entertained. He ended up being caught up in the initial attack and discovered MK playing hero while trying to evacuate the cubs away from the angry spider lady trying to turn people into spider zombies.
Wukong is not happy, but at this point there are far more important things to deal with. He orders MK to get his siblings somewhere safe while he handles Spider Queen. When MK protests, he tells him that MK's arachnophobia would only get in the way, and he is still Sun Wukong, the gods be damned Great Sage Equal To Heaven and the Monkey King. He isn't so far into his retirement that he can't put an upstart little princess in her place.
The plan backfires and Wukong gets captured by LBD and Spider Queen, of course, but hey, the Noodle Crew gets to meet MK's siblings! Sandy babysits them while they're in Heaven trying to get the stuff. All they know of it is that MK's mom was caught by the Spider Queen, they don't know yet exactly who his parent is. Not until much later when Wukong and DBK break out of their bonds and save them.
"Holy shit, is that Sun Wukong!?" ;Probably Tang
"Mom!" :MK
"MOM!?" :Literally eveyone
After all is said and dine Wukong makes good on his promise of a long talk, or rather lecture, and MK is grounded.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD BE SO RECKLESS! Xiaotian, your father an I taught you better than this! What were you thinking!?"
"But when you were my age you were at war with Heaven, though!"
"And look what that got me! Thrown in a furnace and pinned under a mountain for 500 years! What you did was stupid and reckless. What if you'd gotten hurt!? Your still mortal, MK!"
Referencing.
Yesss. Wukong canonically adores New Years, and I def agree that love extends to the cubs too.
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Wukong does a "surprise" visit to Megapolis to show the younger cubs the New Years Parade + check up on his eldest while MK is helping Pigsy with the foodtruck. Likely all in glamours, but MK 100% gets an embarassing visit from his mom at work. The Noodle shop gang tease him endlessly about it.
Then cue the Spider Queen's invasion, and Wukong giving MK the cubs to watch for the moment while he Kings Up. MK doesn't want his mom to go in his condition, but Wukong is still The Monkey King, and has no idea that his son has been superhero-ing for the past couple of months.
The gang all meet up on Sandy's airship, and the kiddos glamours all drop from stress. This is where the gang confirms (they had suspiscions) that MK is a disguised demon - they dont mind since thats sadly common in human-dominated cities. MK specifically being a monkey demon gets Tang asking questions though.
Red Son shows up and has a brain-fart mid-plan when he recognises who "Noodle Boy" actually is;
Red Son: "Xiaotian!? I haven't seen you since we were calves! This explains so much!"
MK, nervous sweating: "Not now dude! My mom got captured by the Spider Queen, and my dad is MIA right now."
Red Son: "Ah but of course. Seems we have the same predicament then. No fear, I have a plan to defeat the Spider Queen and save our respective parents."
Tang, panic-nerding: "MK, how do you know Red Son!?"
MK, flash of SWK-esque anger: "NOT NOW."
The gang get to the Celestial Realm and retrieve what they need to make the antidote - though not without attracting the attention of a certain hound that just realised her fave monkey is here.
MK, petting the dog: "I'm sorry Quan. I can't play right now! I'm saving the city."
Xiaotian Quan: (*sad whine!*)
Meanwhile at the Spider Mech; DBK has finally met his little brother/enemy once again. DBK in his anger, yells about Sun Wukong's "little-thief successor MK" ruining so many of his family's attempts at gaining power, and Wukong just blanks;
Wukong, scary parent voice: "Xiaotian has been doing what!?"
DBK: "The Little Thief is Xiaotian!?"
DBK would also shout at Wukong for putting himself in danger in his condition, but quiets when he learns that Macaque is missing. Tieshan had seemed worried since DBK got back (infact, maybe its why she decided to free him), and everyone knows that the shadow monkey wouldn't leave his mate without reason. When LBD arrives, DBK and Wukong immediate get a chill up their spines. They both know that she's somehow involved with Mac's disappearance... DBK has his super-saiyan moment of worried-anger and frees both himself and his xiandi so that they can find their reckless kids.
The Noodle Shop gang (+ Red Son and the cubs) bust on through with the spider-venom antidote and manage to subdue the Spider Queen with their combined forces.
Tang is about to fanboy at the sight of Sun Wukong in the flesh when MK and the cubs yell something that shatters his preconceptions.
MK & the cubs: "Mom!" "Mama!"
Noodle Shop Gang: "MOM?!?"
Wukong, swarmed by baby monkeys: "Thank Nuwa you're all ok!" (*hugs them all tight*)
Wukong: (*suddenly bonks MK on head with a sandal*)
Wukong: "And you! How dare you not tell me that you've been fighting demons this whole time! You told me you were only getting a job for mortal experience!"
MK: "But mom! I did get a job! I've been using my spare time trying to figure out what happened to dad!"
Wukong: "Which I specifically told you Not to do!! Your father has gotten himself tangled up with a very dangerous witch and I'm not letting you run into one of her traps!"
Noddle Shop Gang + DB fam: (*standing at a safe distance from the yelling*)
Tang, dizzy with excitement: "Anyone else feel like they're in a fantasy right now?"
Mei: "Hm, not really. I knew Xiaotian since we were pups. My grunkle Ao Lie is the same dragon-horse from the stories."
Tang: "Excuse me!?"
Erlang shows up on Earth asking Wukong tf just happened - his third eye showed him the chaos in the Celestial Realm and Lao Tzu is pissed for his missing pills and Furnace. But he immediately leaves when he sees tje carnage of a saved mortal city + Sun Wukong. (Erlang: "Ah. Say no more.")
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myimaginationplain · 2 days
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I've found that when it comes to discussing who has the best claim to the iron throne and/or the Targaryen dynasty, there's often this implicit assumption that when Jon finds out about his true parentage, the knowledge will inevitably leak to the general Westerosi public. People love to theorize about whether or not the Northerners would continue to support Jon if his being Rhaegar's son came to light, or if he would be pushed as heir to the iron throne over Dany & Aegon, & I'm just like...how would any of them find out about it? Why would any of them find out about it?
I feel like some people believe that when Jon finds out about R + L = J, he'll, I dunno, send out news letters about it or something? Publicly renounce his status as Eddard Stark's son? I don't exactly understand what people think Jon would do with the information, but anything less than keeping as tight a lid on it as possible would be very out of character for Jon. Guys, we're talking about the same guy who purposefully gave a young mother the wrong baby. He's not gonna be cavalier about this.
The only people we can really be certain he'd feel the need to tell the truth to are Arya & Sansa. We know that Bran is likely to already know the truth himself by then through his greenseer tree-god bullshit; Rickon, even if he is found & taken to Winterfell by the time the other siblings reconvene (which I find highly unlikely), would probably be considered too young to trust with information like that.
Daenerys is also an extremely likely candidate for being one of the few people Jon would tell, although this is variable, as it depends on what sort of relationship you believe she & Jon will have by the time R + L = J is revealed. I for one am betting on she & Jon already being involved in some capacity by the time he finds out, thus making her one of the people he'd tell. But if you're in the camp of people who think they'll be enemies by then, he probably wouldn't tell her in that scenario.
Sam is furthest down on the very short list of people Jon would probably tell. I think it's likely, seeing how much he trusts Sam & leans on him for support. But still, it's not a sure thing.
So, including Howland Reed (who has successfully kept the secret for ~17 years now), that makes just 6-7 people who would be privy to Jon's parentage. None of whom would have much motivation to go screaming about it from the hilltops in any scenario where they're still behaving like themselves. (If any of you bring up show!Sansa here, then I'm gonna beat you with a hammer. Don't be a hypocrite; if you can acknowledge & accept that literally every other character was wildly ooc in Season 8, then do the same with Sansa. Betraying Jon's trust after swearing not to before a heart tree is just as ooc for book!Sansa as purposefully burning Kings' Landing to ash would be for book!Daenerys.)
Even in the event that Jon rides a dragon, I think that can easily be explained away by lying about Jon's mother. "Oh, why can I ride a dragon? Not many people know this, but my mother was actually a Lyseni whore. You know they have some Valyrian blood in them. She died in childbirth, though, which is why my lord father took me in." Who's gonna call his bluff on that? Ned's resolute silence on Jon's mother would absolutely work in his favor. The historical precident set by Nettles & others like her means that Jon can 100% just say his mother was the daughter of some unknown dragonseed or something.
IMO, the real question we should be asking is, if Jon were to have children, would he ever tell them the truth?
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zoeyslament · 23 hours
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Feeling sappy tonight, mutuals appreciation
Where to start other than with my very first mutual, @felt-squirrels aka one of the few people who was there during my newsies era which we've agreed not to talk about. yay!
and then @sydneyofalltrades who I think is probably my long lost sibling? like we are linked somehow, ily syd ur the best :)
then there's the rest of the rtc moots or at least people i met through rtc! @4pplec0re, @kittieshauntedourfantasy, @confess-thy-sin, @margo-mania, @gay-little-axolotl and several other people ily guys ur awesome :)
special shoutout to @spookysplatt for sharing multiple hyperfixations with me, also pls dm me when you watch workin boys i need to know your thoughts!
THE RP BUDDIESSSS!!! @lauterishotter (didnt wanna tag ur main), @jben073, @wonder-never-wander, and @pastriibunz who will hopefully be back soon!! some of my first friends in the hatchetfield fandom, thank you guys so much for being there
@raspberrysmoon, we've started talking more over the last little bit! thank you so much for helping me with my uhm...concerning writing. lets put it that way. also thanks for putting my fave on your fave characters list thats fire
@bellqmione zazz I gotta admit i was terrified of you for a long time but you're just one of the most amazing people I've met on here, all of your takes about Linda Monroe are correct, I wish you many Barnroe fics written in your honor
special shoutout to @cherrieguroo who put up with my oc + zoey ramblings for like 2 hours last night, that was absolutely awesome of you to do tysm
@ethereal-bumble-bee, @thecrabbybarista, @eldritch-flame, @alergic-to-peeple, and @saveugoodmadam, friends from my other site ily guys thank you for sharing 2 different hellsites with me
@fireworkss-exe, who got me into rtc and is basically the reason Im on Tumblr in the first place. also I JUST saw that your little about line thingy says 'i feel so sigma' and its sending me
@toastyquail this is your reminder to watch out for starepaw
and lastly, my love @well-liked-but-ineffectual. I'm on my puter rn so I cant type it but. butter emoji.
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