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#also it won’t?? even show me How I did? like the source is just. an empty white square
anodymalion · 1 day
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ok I am in fact using this as an excuse to make a long post about this thank you thank you asjksdjfaljdf
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Interpreting Yuri as asexual is my very very favorite type of headcanon, which is one that 1. is compellingly coded in the source material (even if that wasn't the creator's intent), 2. is thematically relevant to what the piece of media is Trying To Do as a whole, and 3. just means a lot to me, personally, because I said so.
Coded in the source material
Yuri’s short program is “eros”, aka desire (you can interpret what “eros” means in various ways, but YOI itself explicitly refers to sexual love, at least in the English translations). Yuri struggles with this. Hard. He can’t come up with an answer when asked what eros means to him. His big revelatory moment about desire is that it’s how he feels about wanting to eat his favorite food (omg… boy). Even as the season goes on and the way he views the Eros program changes, the program doesn’t ever really embody the idea of eros as sexuality or romance (which was how the other characters expect him to interpret it) but rather as a desire to keep Victor in his life.
Like look. I’m obviously not going to say that the creator intended any kind of ace subtext to be there. I kind of doubt it was her intent. But goddamn is the subtext there.
2. Thematic relevance
The central theme throughout YOI is “love”, and especially loving people in a way that inspires you both to be your best selves: Yuri learning that the people in his life truly love and support him; Victor finding someone who makes him feel joy about skating again.
Like, Yuri’s whole skating theme for the Grand Prix is literally about him exploring what love looks like to him, even when it takes a form that other people don’t totally understand. Viewing all this through a lens of him being ace is really compelling. It adds depth to the idea of learning how to express the way you feel love even when it looks different than what other people expect. I think it’s a really delicious layer that adds even more nuance to what the show is getting at.
Besides, it’s an interesting way of viewing the criticism of the show that occurred for it not being 100% explicit about them being a couple (aka people getting mad because the kiss in ep 7 is blocked by Victor’s arm lmaooo). Like, ok, did you see the ending scene of ep 9? Did you see ep 10??? They definitely, definitely love each other, in whatever way that means for them. Their relationship takes a form that’s pretty different than the other way people in the show are going about romantic relationships, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real for them. That is very much in line with the main themes of the show.
3. Means a lot to me
In the final scene of the penultimate episode, Yuri tells Victor that they should end their coaching relationship after the Grand Prix ends. This is because he thinks he’s holding Victor back, that Victor would be happier being free to go back to skating on his own instead of being Yuri’s coach. When I watched this (and, I’ll be honest, this is completely me projecting here) I REALLY interpreted this as an ace thing. I think it’s pretty easy to internalize the idea when you’re asexual that you just won’t be… enough, for other people. In my case I ended up a strong impulse to self-sabotage relationships because I would rather be the one to end things than to let someone else tell me that who I am as a person is fundamentally lacking. Yuri destroying a connection he desperately wants because he thinks there’s something about him that is holding Victor back from a life he’d be truly happy with? Oh yeah. I can fucking relate to that.
Also: YOI came out in 2016, which was the absolute peak of hostility to ace people I was seeing on this site. It was bad here. At the same time Tumblr was going wild over this show. Everyone was watching it. Seeing a whole site of people absolutely adore a character I very deeply in my heart believed to be ace? Extremely vindicating.
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In conclusion Yuri is asexual because it is fun and interesting that way, and also because of this:
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3amsnek · 2 years
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What program do you use? And which pen settings? Sorry if this is annoying, but I really like the flow of your art style!
I use Procreate with ipad/ apple pencil and exactly Three Brushes Ever- a homemade soft round one for some sketching, Dry Ink (default brush from procreate, under inking) for Literally Everything Ever For Years (cronch my beloved) and Nikko Rull (default again, under painting) occasionally for Fnacy Texture Purposes in blending & background stuff
iiii cannot actually tell you the specific Settings for any of them bc I’ve kinda just. fucked with them all here and there for about four years (and I have literally no idea or memory of how I made the custom one I just know I like it better than their built in round ones & airbrushes for some reason) but hopefully that’s what you’re looking for?
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black-arcana · 26 days
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the GazettE members says farewell to Reita
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With the passing of Reita, the members of the GazettE have shared their heartfelt and heartbreaking farewells to the brightest bassist out there, Reita.
In the farewell messages, the members make mentions of the “forever” that Reita wished for, referring to Reita’s last tweet posted the day before his passing.
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Reita’s last tweet: “I hope that the GazettE lasts forever”.
In our translations below, we tried to keep the messages as faithful to the original source as possible, taking into account nuances such as vocalist Ruki’s use of hiragana for “Reita” (れいた), and the other members’ use of “REITA” in capital letters, and more.
Please read every word that the members had to share.
Vocalist Ruki
I think the meaning of what [Reita] posted at the end, “I hope that the GazettE lasts forever”, is that he wanted to be able to see that amazing view from the stage in 2023—the view that he saw with his own eyes—for the rest of time. That view he saw together with you, the fans. Your happy faces. That place where all of us raised our voices together. That wonderful, irreplaceable treasure. I think that he thought it would be wonderful if that moment would last an eternity. I remember you saying that you wanted to play a show soon. “Even when I’m having a hard time, getting together with my band members like this and laughing is when I’m having the most fun”, he was the type of kind, passionate guy, who even after becoming an adult could say this with total honesty. I loved that honesty. We even joked around about taking care of our health this year, just like we did every year on our birthdays. This band will never be a 4 member thing. No matter what anyone says. You’re the only bassist for us. I know your soul is always going to be there on my right-hand side. Nobody will be able to see it, but we’ll feel it. That proof of life that you built with the GazettE will live on. That’s what I believe. That you’ll always be beside me as I keep singing, Reita. We’ll never become something that you’d hate. I don’t want to make you sad. Humans lives are finite, but I think the soul remains. Your soul will live on, in us, in me, in our fans. I want to keep playing shows that will make those I love want to come back and play, even when they’re just souls. Because all of our fans are here for us, we can create that view he wanted to see and keep him here with us forever. So please stay by my side from here on out, too. I know he’d like it best if you remembered him with a smile, and how amazing he was, instead of being sad when you see him. We’ll be more than ready to look after this band from here on out. We’ll show you that “forever” you wished for, Reita. So make sure you come down from heaven for every show, okay? We’ll always have a seat for you. Things are going to get really busy from here on out. Once we’ve settled on a schedule, I’ll contact you again.
Guitarist Uruha
To all the fans who supported REITA until now, I think he was a huge source of support for everyone, including myself. I still can’t accept that he’s not here, that we won’t be able to stand on stage together again. I think there’s going to be a lot of things I’ll come to understand slowly over time. But drowning in sorrow forever won’t let us bring his wish to see “forever” to life, and I deeply feel that I need the strength to keep moving forward from here on. I also think that the road we paved with him to get here is irreplaceable, and I think we all want to keep that alive inside of us in the future. He gave us so much, and stood by our side for so long, and now and forever, he will be one of my closest friends. Please keep all the words, the memories, and the love for everyone that he gave us in your hearts. REITA will live on in our hearts. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for always supporting the GazettE and REITA in more ways than one.
Guitarist Aoi
Out of all the things and all the work I’ve had to do with these members and our small team of staff, this is the only one I haven’t wanted to do. There was a time in the past when I considered giving up on my dream. Back then, after so many discussions, and some encouragement, the other members managed to convince me not to give up. That’s the kind of band we are, and that’s how the GazettE came to be where it is. REITA, you’re not the type of person who wishes for eternity. You’re the type who is eternal. To someone like you, I can’t say something clever like “I’ll carry the weight of your burden too”. I wanted to make more music with you, and see so much more together. No matter where or what, if it’s all 5 of us and our fans are there, it would be amazing. It’s so painful, having all these things I want to say and knowing none of them will come true. Anyway, when I make my way over there, I’m going to give you a stern talking to. You must be sad that we’re suddenly not around anymore, but just rest up until we meet again. I have a little more that I need to do on this side first. Thanks for coming all this way with us. Rest in peace.
Drummer Kai
REITA was such a huge presence to me, more than I can even know. All the words, saving me with sound, the mood maker of the band; really, I have so many truly wonderful memories of him, but most of all, his brilliant appearance when he was on stage. He was the best partner anyone could ask for in the rhythm section, truly one of a kind. That hasn’t and will not change. I want to carry his memory with me, and be more determined than ever to continue the GazettE. Lastly, to all our fans and associates who have supported us throughout these 22 years, Thank you. I want to keep running forward, all 5 of us, and hope you’ll stay with us. REITA. Rest easy. Thank you. Just like always, with everyone by our side, we’ll keep the GazettE alive. I promise. I don’t want those 22 years of yours to be wasted, and there are plenty of others who don’t either. Make sure you show your face at our shows! Let’s drink the good stuff together again sometime, okay?
We tried to get these message ready for you as soon as possible, but reading through them was extremely emotional and difficult for us.
While we understand that for most, this might not provide any real closure, but we hope you were able to grasp the sentiment and genuine emotions that the members shared.
As fans, we will continue to protect that “forever” too, Reita. Please rest assured.
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sseniita · 4 months
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breaking generational trauma*
*pls give me a better name for this, im going insane
“She’s like me.” 
The villain stared at the child bouncing in the hero’s arms. The hero’s expression wasn’t unlike one she had when she begged for mercy on behalf of a civilian. Simpler, it was similar to when she had begged the villain to take care of her dog while she was away on a mission or when she wanted the last slice of pizza. Overall, the helplessly hopeful demeanor on the hero's face was one villain had become not only familiar with, but also weak against. 
“Hero, where did that come from? Put it back.” urged the villain, gesturing towards the bundle of blankets in her arms. 
“I can’t! I won’t!” The hero held the child closer, protectively, as if the villain was the one being irresponsible here. 
“Like you?” The villain asked, intrigued. “There is no one like you, Hero.” 
The hero readjusted the child on her hip, freeing one arm to grab paperwork rolled up in her back pocket. “That’s what I thought! Look!” She hastily handed over the crumpled up letters to the villain. It didn’t take more than reading the title for everything to click. 
“Experiment 02? You mean-?” 
“She’s from the same tests! We came from the same lab! They were going to do exactly what they did to me- to her-”
“Because of the success you were. I get it.” There was a pause between them for a second. 
The hero was godlike in some ways and machine-like in less important ways. A literal biological weapon, forged since birth. It was an experiment, you could go so far as to call it an accident. Purposeful or not, the hero was the result of a successful lab sourced super-power. It had taken many years for the hero to come to terms with how she became the hero she was, and even longer to investigate and ultimately discover who was behind all of it. Evidently, she had. 
“I can’t let them do it again.” She whispered, holding the child closely to her chest.
It was six months into knowing each other that hero confessed she didn't like being a hero. It was eight months later the villain found out why.
The villain sighed, motioning for her to walk into his apartment. Once they were comfortable on the villain’s couch, he began to ask a million questions. 
Where? A hidden lab. Why? She couldn't leave her there. Her answers we stable and much too clear of mind considering the hero had just stolen a child.
“How old is it?” He finally asked, skimming through the lab documents. 
“It's her. And about 4 months, I think. I just don’t get why they’re starting now. I never found any evidence to show they were doing anything before.” She restlessly bounced the baby. “I just don’t get it.”  
The villain raised a brow at her, she raised one back. “What do you know?” she scooted closer to the villain. 
“Superheroes are either decommissioned or retire around 50. But most lose relevance and popularity by 30. Whether it be they can’t keep their figure, or a newer, shinier thing comes around.” He scoffed. “Never ceases to amaze me” he said half-heartedly, staring down at the documents. The hero’s mouth dropped. 
“I just celebrated my 25th birthday?! You’re saying I’m old and ugly?!” The villain rolled their eyes. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re perfect and probably always will be." He realized what he had just said, he quickly interrupted the hero as she was about to open her mouth. "It’s just how it goes. Once you reach 30, people aren’t as interested. It’s fucked.” The hero quickly caught on. 
“So, she’s my replacement?” 
“Seems like it. Nova, she’ll be called once she turns 15. Thankfully, tests hadn't started on her. They had her on weird ass diet to prepare her, though. You caught her in time.”
The hero was sitting close enough that the villain could peek at the baby’s sleeping face. She was so serene and had no idea what had already been laid out for her, all the pain and suffering, in the name of good. She’ll have no choice. Just like the hero. The villain often stared at the hero in the domestic settings they sometimes found themselves in. He’d imagine her on a lunch break from some normal, boring office job when they got late night coffees during the hero’s night shifts. Or at a dinner party whenever they teamed up and went undercover at some fancy party. God- he would have given anything to save his hero from the fate that was chosen for her.  The little girl had chubby cheeks and looked so dreadfully soft. Just like the hero.
Shit. The villain thought, looking at the baby. I have a chance to save you. 
  The villain sighed and leaned back, done reading the crumpled pages, discarding the documents on the coffee table, defeated, just like that. It only took 10 minutes. Maybe he had gone soft.
“Eloise. Her name is Eloise.” He exasperated.  It was heart wrenching to hear the hero start to coo at the baby. “No living family.” He hammered the last nail on his coffin. 
“Hello, little Lulu. Is that your name? Lulu? You’re so cute! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” She baby-talked, pecking kisses all over Eloise's forehead, evidently disturbing her sleep. “Oh sorry- sorry!” she whispered to the baby. 
She turned to the villain, eyes twinkling with hope. “I can keep her? Right?” The villain crossed his arms. 
“Hero, I’m not going to tell you what to do.” 
“Haha- that’s your way of saying you unconditionally support me.” She said as she cuddled the baby even closer. 
“Please let that child breathe, hero. You can’t hold her too close.” He reached a hand to push the baby a little further away from the hero’s chest. She beamed. “You’d be a great dad! Already keeping me in line!”
Please don’t start. 
 Despite himself, he looked for the best way to act disinterested and yet not fully close the window on that chance. 
“No hero. I know how much this means to you, but I’m not taking care of a baby. I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten- I’m a villain. This is no environment for a child- even if I wanted one. You have my approval if that’s what you’re looking for, but that’s it.” 
The hero ignored that, making a show of looking around the villain’s extremely cosy and expensive flat. Dark green wallpaper with flowers, a white brick fireplace with old books on the mantel. The place was decorated with the plushiest of carpets, and liveliest of plants. Each curtain hid a beautifully ornate window overlooking one of the safest areas in the inner city. The hero could see the hero offices which she resided in from here. Finally, her stare landed on the large spare bedroom where not only did the hero have a drawer of her things but had also spent countless nights in, recovering and playing patient to a medically trained villain. She raised her eyebrows at the villain. 
“No.” 
“Please.” 
“Hero. You are always the one saying you wanted a family. This might be your only chance- ok, I get it. But she can’t stay here. 
“I live in the dorms of the Hero Offices with 20 other heroes! I don’t and can’t have my own place! I’ll be found out for sure! There are probably a million people looking for her right now!”
“Hero-” 
“Villain please. I can’t let them find her. I need you.” She placed a hand on his thigh, seemingly not noticing the villain’s twitch. 
“Hero. I’m not a good person, you seem to forget. You cannot have that much trust in me-” 
“You are the only person I can trust. Please.” She begged. 
Perhaps the villain wasn’t the only one to blame, perhaps both of them had let this get too far. It started off normally, the fights, the one-liners, and bruises. And out of nowhere, the subtle flirting, the late night talks, the absolutely vulgar displays of emotions they’d never shared with anyone else, hit them like a brick. The hero had changed the villain’s life for the better. He no longer felt unbearably lonely and burdened, haunted by the constant terror and forcefulness of his occupation.
Villain had fallen in love months ago. And he had gotten far in distancing himself and learning to un-love. Now he had to take care of a baby with her that just happened to look like a perfect combination of both of them? His dark hair and tanned skin, her warm brown eyes and button nose. Just perfect. 
“Fine.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the hero leaned against him, setting her head right under his neck, thankfully she didn’t hurl the baby to give him a hug. Maybe I deserve kisses on my forehead for Gods’ sake. He quickly hurled that thought away. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She beamed, kicking her feet. “This means so much, you have no idea!” 
“Hero, this is temporary. If anyone finds out about this-” 
“Ya, ya, I know. Don’t worry. Everything will be ok! I’ll make sure of it!” 
The villain’s only hope was believing her. She was an atom bomb inside a 25 year old woman after all. Maybe he shouldn’t underestimate her. As she moved in towards the guestroom with Eloise, the villain watched intently, she set her down for a nap on the bed, and once she finally came out she looked determined and extremely excited. She plopped down on the couch making sure they were touching side by side so the villain could look at what she was seeing on her phone. Her fingers scrolled down a website titled ‘what to buy when you're expecting’ the villain groaned.
After an hour of the hero paraphrasing a multitude of blogs and villain jotting down notes, they had completed a list of things they needed to raise a child. The hero deflated when she mentioned how they’d have to skimp out on baby toys and clothes, but she quickly recovered after the villain reassured her money wouldn’t be an issue. Apparently villainy had its perks. 
“So what are you going to do about the corporation? Can you really make sure this won’t happen again?” The villain asked the hero from the entrance way. The hero walked over, baby in arms, the villain helped the hero get her coat back on. 
“Uh well. I maybe, sort of, accidentally, may have burned the place down…? Timidly she made eye contact with the villain who only chuckled. 
“I may have also stolen any hard drive I could have found and threw it in the river.” The villain’s laugh only continued as he put a hand on the small of her back and led her out the door. 
As they were walking to get a car seat- the first of many things on their list- the hero had asked the villain to hold Eloise while she used the lady’s room. She had been asleep when the villain got her but quickly after, she woke up. The villain immediately felt a panic and he feared she might start crying, he held her close, bouncing and hushing her to get her back to sleep. Eloise stared up at the villain for a long time before breaking into giggles, reaching her tiny arms up to touch his nose, getting the attention of the shoppers who started cooing at the handsome man rocking the baby with the loudest giggles ever.  
Right then and there, as he felt the tiniest, softest hands grab his nose, the villain knew he was completely and utterly wrapped around, not only the hero’s finger, but of these tiny fingers as well.
pt 2
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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year
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DICK GRAYSON & JASON TODD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)
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“Long Overdue: Epilogue” (Dick Grayson & Batmom!Reader), (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, mentions of grief, past death of a child
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)
| 2k+ words
| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven. (series masterlist)
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You walk out of the weapons cache lighter than how you walked into it and head directly for your eldest.
“Dick what the hell?”
Said man, halfway through what looks like calf stretches, sits up and throws a slight frown your way.
“What? What’d I do?”
And bless him but he’s actually thinking it over. Eyes sliding to the side and lips pursing and everything. Racking his brain over what mess he forgot to get himself out of this time.
Somewhere behind you Jason starts laughing at Dick so when he passes by you flick him on the arm. The drama queen then makes a whole show of blowing you off with a half assed ‘ow’. Your eyes meet the dark depths of the cave ceiling for a second as you beg for strength before they lock on Dick once more.
From there all you have to do is purse your lips and raise a brow for him to catch on. His arms fling into the air.
“He said he’d ‘take care of it’, and I haven’t seen you since then. Fuck me for thinking he actually did it! And he only felt the need to tell me three nights ago so it’s not like you’re the only one.”
Your shoulders start to shake and you move closer until you can nudge him. His arms drop and he huffs.
“Easy, little D, I’m just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over your father’s horrible communication skills, okay?”
“Don’t worry I won’t,” he says.
You do catch the nasty look he throws the cave entrance with despite what he’s said, and the easy tone he’s said it with, however.
“Actually,” Jason pipes up, helmet back on and voice once again skewed. “I’m still hung up on your shit communication skills. Nightfall? Since when has that been a thing?”
He jabs a finger in your direction while pacing around to Dick’s other side. Dick doesn’t do anything but follow the younger’s antics with his eyes.
You laugh, shrugging, and lean back on the cave wall beside the desk. You're still within spitting distance of the boys but you can’t bring yourself to travel any further.
“I’ve been in the game longer than Bruce has, but mostly under an independent contractor. It wasn’t till I came to Gotham that I changed my suit and started calling myself Nightfall; that gimmicky shit is contagious after all.”
“Immensely goddamn contagious,” Jason mutters darkly. He throws a glare Dick’s way that translates pretty perfectly even with the helmet to get him to knock off the staring, but you get the feeling the older only looks away because grilling you is a more pressing matter.
In the next moment Dick snaps his fingers, “You know what I still don’t get? How come we never found out? I mean you didn’t tell me until I was in Blud already.”
That question you can’t shrug away as easily. A grimace crosses your face and Jason makes an intrigued ‘ohh’ sound that honestly makes you want to flip him off. How are you being cajoled by your children right now?
“Well…” you kiss your teeth. “I was in love.”
The “Gross,” Jason lets out is instantaneous and he holds a hand up - it's a flawless reminder that 19 is not yet fully grown. “Forget I asked.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not that damn bad. It’s just that when we first got Dick Bruce thought it’d be best if he had a greater sense of normalcy out of the cape, and I agreed; one vigilante parent was enough. Then we just kept that same dynamic when we got you,” you gesture to Jason and he tilts his head.
“I’m still not seeing how that relates to the completely unnecessary ‘in love’ comment you made earlier.”
“Jason,” you scold. “I’m getting there, goddamn.”
Dick poorly muffles a laugh and you give him a hard look before rolling your shoulders.
“Back in the day, before Bruce stopped acting like we were a unit and more like I was a casualty of war in the waiting-” you take a deep breath and cross your arms, closing your eyes against the white lights of the cave.
You can hear the way the boys falter, likely glancing to one another to figure out what to do before they each take a step forward.
“Mom-” Dick calls.
“You don’t have to-” Jason’s saying at the same time, their voices overlapping, and you shake your head.
“It’s fine,” you say. You blink your eyes open; both brothers have stilled but they’re balancing forward like they think you’re gonna drop. You huff. “Point is, there was a time where he could’ve convinced me of anything. He used to look at me like I hung the fucking moon just to provide people free light to see, you know? So at a certain time I chose not to tell you two because I didn’t want to challenge the perception of me that you had gotten from Bruce. That’s why you didn’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was as bad as the people you were fighting every night; the people who took away your parents from you. Dick running off was what made me finally spill, but you died years before I would’ve been ready to tell you, Jay.”
Jason clears his throat, “Uh. That why you and hi- Bruce separated?”
“Not really,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It wasn’t Bruce before…it was Bruce after. After you died we didn’t just bounce back…so eventually things between us soured. I loved him but expecting someone to put up with you constantly pushing them away isn’t fair,” you shrug. “How Bruce saw me stopped mattering as much after that.”
Dick nods, lining up what you’ve said to his own memory of the aftermath and coming up with a corresponding connection.
“Yeah, you and Bruce argued for hours after you met Tim that first time…and then some more when Stephanie became Robin. Hell, even by the time I’d gotten back earthside you and Bruce were down right frosty when you were next to each other even though you were trying to hide it from us.”
“Yeah,” you grunt. “That’s all we tend to do now. Stay mad.”
Staring off into the distance Dick nods and Jason catches your eye, or maybe the other way round.
Whatever expression he is looking at you with is impossible to place but he is definitely watching you. Uncannily all the boys had Bruce’s tendency to look at things, and by extension people, like they were puzzles to solve. Which came with the added bonus of the recipient of said stare being able to feel it. Feel the weight of being dissected and picked apart as if it was a physical thing.
Most buck under that level of analysis. Wholly used to the originator of that stare though you continue on as usual. If he wasn’t going to ask then you had nothing to say.
After it becomes clear you won’t be coughing anything more up Jason backs off, pushing the conversation towards lighter material until Dick and him are carrying the back and forth together. They play off of each other in stunted stops and starts, and barely concealed hostility on Jason’s part, but their awkward attempts at light hearted banter still get your mind out of the gutter you’d landed in.
Ten minutes of forced jokes and almost insults later and Jason starts giving less than subtle hints at wanting to head out. After that it doesn’t take long before he comes over, and he doesn’t reach out to you but he does softly knock your shoulders together.
“See you later, Ma,” he says for your ears alone.
“Goodbye Jason,” you respond even though you’d rather never have him leave your side again.
You watch him go and are drastically reminded that your eyes have been incessantly brimming with tears this whole time when a few slip down your face with little prompting.
A few more beads follow the path of the others after you catch sight of the truly cracked look on Alfred’s face when Jason comes up to him before there’s an arm slinging across your shoulders and Dick’s urging you into a hug.
You take it. You raised some good kids, you’ll give yourself that much. Even if there were some major fuck ups along the way.
“It’s kinda surreal, isn’t it?”
“Oh absolutely,” you croak. “I like it though.”
Dick shrugs, “Yeah. It wouldn’t really be us if things got too predictable anyway.”
He waits a beat and then, “So who’s updating Babs?”
“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “he told you two at the same time?”
“Pretty much. Which that, combined with everything that happened with Steph and The Birds, and having to break all this to Cass means her fuse is waaay shorter than usual.”
“Not it,” you proclaim.
Dick’s mouth drops open, his gaze snapping to you.
“What? That’s not fair.”
“Says who? I’m not cleaning up after Bruce anymore than I already am, and she’s your friend, Dick.”
“It’s still unfair,” he grumbles. He brushes it off quickly though. “So….I heard you and Cass ran into each other a few days ago.”
“Yeah. Last Sunday.” You side eye him. “Right after you almost started a grease fire in your new apartment.”
Dick holds his hand to his chest, tone barely upset enough to sound like true hurt. “Don’t look at me like that, I can cook.”
You nod slowly, “I know you can cook,” then shake your head in the same manner. “But you cannot fry.”
“It’s not my fault the oil fights back. I get enough shit in my nightly life. I don't need it when I’m at home on top of that.”
He smiles but the way it doesn’t reach his eyes churns your stomach.
“Maybe pan frying just isn’t for you,” you murmur but your hand goes up to touch his arm. “How’re you feeling?”
Dick shrugs. Gaze locking somewhere over your shoulder.
“As good as I can be,” you give him a sideways look and he forces a chuckle, rocking back from your touch. “Seriously I’m fine. Please don’t stress out about me. Are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” you grunt before pushing him towards the benches on the other side of the cave. “Sure. I’m fine. Now come on, let’s go sit.”
“Mom-”
“Nope. Move before you pass out or some shit.”
“Ah,” he gasps. “You said a bad word.”
“Dick,” you curb the urge to roll your eyes.
- - -
Whatever conversation Jason’s just had with Alfred doesn’t seem to have left him any more tense than he already was, which is good. You and Dick stop mid sentence to watch him walk off from your new position on the floor.
You with a foam roller and your first child dramatically cringing every time you go over the area just above the hole in his calf. Part of it you’re sure is him trying to cheer you up but the other you're certain are actual expressions of pain because he went out on a literal bullet wound even though you’d told him to stay his ass home.
“I don’t know why he’s under the impression that I can’t shoot without killing someone but he’s wrong,” Jason’s saying. He pats the occupied holster at his thigh while making his way towards the vehicle pathway. “Anyway, I’m gonna get outta here. The later I see you Bats the better.”
“Jason!”
“Except for you, Ma! I’ll call you tomorrow!” He yells over his shoulder, running his fingers over the handle of the bike closest to him.
“You’d better,” you yell back. You’d be happy to reinstate another child that would lament the drama in their lives to you on your call list.
“Uh oh,” Dick says under his breath.
You turn to look over at him for barely a second, brows raised and mouth partially open, when the sound of a motorcycle revving answers your unasked question for you.
Looking back at the bikes shows Jason’s already peeling out of the cave with a yell of: “I’ll leave this somewhere you can find!”
You blink after him, not sure if you want to laugh or not.
“That’s not good,” Dick murmurs. When you turn to him he’s grimacing and seeing your expression he nods to the now empty spot. “That was Tim’s bike.”
“Oh.” For the first time since finding out the implications of Jason being Red Hood really hit you. Your lips purse. If he’d really been at that confrontation Tim came out of with a (mild according to him) slit throat during the Hush debacle, and been the one to infiltrate Titans Tower and lay Tim out a few weeks back you had a situation. “Oh lorde.”
“Yeah,” Dick gets up in one swift motion, hands on the roller. “We can’t have regular family problems. Nope.”
Unfortunately he’s right. A sigh falls past your lips. Either way, that was one down. You stand, addressing Dick while he’s putting the foam back.
“Excitement aside, before you head back to New York you want to come help me make dinner?” You incline your head. “Tim can come too.”
He smiles at you. You know he understands you not wanting to get too close to the teen but appreciates you including him in stuff anyway.
“Yeah, Mom, I’d love to. Just let me get my stuff and I’ll call him.”
“Okay.”
Dick leaves and you settle in to wait just as the Batmobile comes rumbling into the Cave. You cut your eyes at the vehicle but otherwise don’t acknowledge as Bruce gets out of it, heading immediately to change.
Alfred comes up to your side a breath later. The two of you nod in greeting.
“Sorry for taking the kids from you.”
“That’s quite alright, Mistress Y/n,” His voice drops to a whisper. “Between the two of us I believe Master Timothy may resort to camping in the woods behind the estate if he’s stuck here a moment longer. I’ll gladly allow you to take them both. You go deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.”
“Have fun,” you croon lightly. The butler gives you a wry look in response. You shrug. “Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind could you tell Bruce to meet me at the Wayne Plot?”
A nod from the old butler.
“Is there a specific time you would like for me to convey as well?”
“He’ll know,” you say simply.
Alfred gives a curt nod.
“Certainly then. Farewell, my dear.” Alfred arches a brow at Dick as he comes back with a duffle swung over his shoulder. “And do try to express upon Master Richard the necessity of wearing his winter gear this year.”
“Alfred,” the man huffs.
You laugh and flick said man in the side. “I don’t think I’ll have to. He should have learned his damned lesson with that two week cold.”
“And I really did,” he bats your hand away and then speeds off. “I'll be upstairs.”
“Bye!” You laugh after him.
This was something you could work with. Putting time into your relationships with your boys and Tim. Solid plan. You say your farewells to Alfred and then follow after your eldest. Your gripes with Bruce could wait, you had dinner to make and two boys to feed.
Fin.
NOTES: I don’t know how severe the implications of a two week cold are but whatever. Hope you enjoyed!!
Thank you all for embarking on this journey with me, this is the first long form series I’ve actually finished so I’m very excited to cap it off!!
Anyway, long overdue is done but I will also write extras to this series at some other time in the future (if you’d like to be tagged in those then tell me).✌🏾
And yes I did my best not to have to write Tim or Cass yet, I can barely write Dick as is. Also let’s just assume Reader had the decency to actually inform Dick about Jason’s death and as such he wasn’t forced to dig for that information himself behind Bruce’s back.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik, @trashpenguin
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wayfayrr · 6 months
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I see your human!reader and raise you: the Chain struggling to find food they can actually eat, reader feeling terrible and maybe a bit like a burden because of it, and getting into a dangerous situation in order to make it up to them
Source: the Owl House :)
I'm so sorry that this took so long to answer!! I've been quite busy recently but while I haven't watched the owl house I hope this does what you wanted justice, it got out of hand the more I wrote!!! I've heard it's great I just don't really watch shows :( Fair warning this got way more angsty then I planned for it too, with reader being pretty flippant about their own safety than they really should be, there's a brief not very detailed description of gore too. (it's also fairly wars centric towards the end)
[masterlist]
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“[Name]! So wind and I’ve just been to the village right? I think I’ve finally found something I can cook that you should be able to eat! It was quite expensive but I’m sure it’ll be worth it for you!” 
“We looked around for ages, so if you can’t eat this then there might not be anything in Hyrule that you can eat!”
Wind means well with what he’s saying; I know that Wild does too, they don’t mean to make me feel bad - I think they don’t anyway. Not like they really need to try with how much of a burden to them I am. Buying expensive supplies just for me? When they’re already struggling to afford their own basic supplies, now I’m just adding unnecessary costs for them. Don’t get me started with the looks of pity they give me either. 
“Thank you both but, please don’t go spending so much on me.”
“But we have to find something you can eat, you’ll just be a… It’s not good for you to starve!”
That - that’s the closest any of them have gotten to saying it outright, they really do just see me as a burden - they aren’t even trying to hide it now. No wonder I’ve always been kept to the side in any fights, Hyrule can’t heal me so I’d just be deadweight if I got hurt, I can’t fight like they can really all I’m good for is as a meat shield to defend them from magic. “Hey [name], are you alright? You zoned out a bit there…”
“Oh, yeah I just - I think I just need to have some time alone if that’s alright? I’ll make sure to stay in distance of the camp.”
“As long as you’re careful and not there too long, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll tell the others for you.”
I hope he doesn’t.
He seemed content with how I nodded at him, so I should be in the clear to go and just vanish for a while even if it’s just to pretend I’m not causing them issues for a little while.
It doesn’t feel like it takes me long to get to a nice place to sit, so it should still be pretty close to camp - not that they should be worried for me. Somewhere nice and open to sit next to a gentle babbling brook, it’s calm and I’m alone, everything I need at the moment.
Shit - how did I not see a sleeping lynel!? No no, not now I don’t even have a weapon! … What if I did kill it though - their parts can be sold for a fortune… I could pay my way and prove I’m not just useless. Even if I don’t - well they won’t have to worry about me in that case.
It hasn’t seemed to notice me yet, maybe there’s a chance I can come back from it. If I just stay low and as silent as I can then I should be able to jump it. 
Stay quiet, take its weapon. Wow, that’s a lot lighter than Wild makes it out to be. Now to just - Just go for its neck! I - I actually managed to slit its throat!
IT’S STILL ALIVE!?
Okay. OKAY! Its movements are sluggish and it seems to be bleeding out so just get away from it - 
Why - why can’t I feel my arm properly? Why is my shoulder so wet all of a -! The pain hit harder than a truck every nerve on my left side feels like it’s being set ablaze, there wasn’t a single hope of keeping in the scream I just let out, one I didn’t even realise had ripped its way from my throat. Tilting my head down to see the cause; suddenly my body feeling nothing but raw visceral pain suddenly makes a lot more sense than before. The stupid thing cut half through my shoulder with my arm now hanging limply by my side. 
“[NAME]! WHAT ARE YOU DOING - YOU’VE BEEN MISSING FOR HOURS - WHAT Did you - [name]!?”
Wars is here..? Didn’t Wild say I was going off for a bit? Why would he be looking for me? I can’t be worth so much that he’d go off on his own to look for me.
“Oh goddesses [name] what - no, no, no stay awake, you’ve got to stay with me darling.”
“‘m awake… ‘m - still ‘ere…”
Is that really what I sound like right now…  I sound so slurred… like - like how people on tv sounded when they were. Oh.
I’m bleeding out and delirious then, no wonder Wars is ‘here’, he’s just my brain giving me one last happy memory before I kick the bucket. Isn’t that wonderful, to spend my last moments hallucinating my unreciprocated crush caring for me. Closing my eyes feels all too easy, even when I’m about to drift off it still feels as if he’s holding me, maybe this won’t be too bad?
“[Name] don’t you DARE close your eyes, you - I’m not losing anyone else I care about - I can't lose you… I haven't even-”
A harsh slap to the face after a shaky breath - one that feels all too real - has me reconsidering things, the feeling of something tears dropping onto my face is the thing that finally has me opening my eyes despite how hard it is to do so. 
“I - I have some bandages, a potio- no that’s not going to help you I’ve got bandages I just need you to talk to me while I use them, so I know you aren’t close to passing out. You’re going to make it out of this - I need you to make it out of this.”
The agony of him adjusting my arm to bind it, well it’s proof that I am still very much alive. If he really wants me to talk… well then I might as well try to get some answers out of him.
“Why - why ‘re you - wh’ ‘d you come lookin’ fr me?”
“You - vanished for hours without a word, did you really think none of us would get worried? Even if none of the others would, I will always come for you.”
“Hm’ wild said he w’s gonna tell the rs’ o’ you… b’sides ‘m just a burden ‘nt I? Wil’ pretty muh said i’.”
“...Wild. but why would he risk - he wouldn’t put you in the… Don’t worry about what wild says he’s lying, you’re not a burden, even if you were. You’re one I would choose to carry every day for the rest of my life without a single regret. Don’t let what he says get to you, darling.”
Murderous, that’s the best way I could hope to describe the look on his face, it’s like he wants wild dead. His bandages seem to have stopped the bleeding though, so while I still feel lightheaded I should live as long as the wound doesn’t get infected. 
“Wai’ why’r you callin’ me darlin’? ‘M not - you’r…”
A little smirk crossed his face then barely lasting long enough for me to just notice it before it was replaced by concern, did I forget something, I mean it’s not impossible that I also hit my head right? Right?
“But you’re my partner, honeybee, we’ve been together for a few days now - you - you can’t have forgotten that right? If that’s the only price for you surviving, I mean we can always just make better memories. You - You’re still alive and that’s the most important thing.”
Well that’s not impossible, I know I’ve had feelings for him for a while so if he did ask I would’ve said yes…
“We can remake the memories later after you recover. You know I’m so glad that human blood flows slower than ours, those precious few extra seconds are literally lifesaving.”
He’s just babbling to himself now, must’ve been stressed over me; now that I’m safer it’s all just draining out of him. The way he’s clinging to me and shaking shows that fairly well too, like he doesn’t plan to let me out of his arms for a long while. 
“Please never do this ever again, I don’t even know what you were planning but you could’ve died [name], you could’ve died and I wouldn’t have had a chance to say goodbye. Please you have to explain why when you’re better. Please promise me you’ll tell me why.”
“I will Wars, I swear.”
“...That’s all I needed to hear, thank you darling.”
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justanotherfanartist · 2 months
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taps mic. ahem.
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help a student write a dumb rvb research paper? pretty please?? for funsies???
This is exactly what it sounds like.
My current final of the year for my language composition class is a massive synthesis + argumentative research paper on any topic of our choosing, and Roosterteeth + RVB has too much messy junk going on that I’m knee-deep invested in mentally at this point to pass up the opportunity to write about it.
And yknow, I see a ton of media analysis posts coming out of the fandom all the time and I’ve always loved seeing it and reading into it and sharing ideas and whatnot and this feels like my way of doing that too.
Essentially what I’m reaching out for is for you guys to help me crowdsource resources and share your ideas with me to include in my term paper*.
things that would be wizard cool of you to send me are:
any interviews or behind the scenes with the cast and creators you happen to know of
your own analysis or hot takes of the characters or the show as a whole
what the show has meant to you
any clips of old Roosterteeth expos
for the older fans, a rough idea of what the release timeline looked like for the episodes and what the buildup and fan reaction was for each one
any commentary or hot takes on how the fandom has changed since you joined/that you know of
what Roosterteeth did wrong (writing wise and irl)
what Roosterteeth did right (writing wise and irl)
tropes within the show you noticed whether originated by the show or not
tropes within the fandom, things like similar portrayals or bad/good takes on characters or face canons that span artists
literally anything you can give me, media, commentary, or opinion wise
(not to say I can’t find things on my own, I already have, but this is also about varying opinions and the general outlook of the fandom as a whole and measuring the broader impact of a show like RvB and it would be incredibly cool of you to help me out even with just crumbs of character opinions)
The idea is to get evidence together from clips, personal anecdotes, and opinions so I can present an accurate read on the fandom, especially when it comes to fan interpretation of RVB vs Roosterteeth’s intentions for the show (and behavior as a company) and explore what the show was supposed to be, what it literally is, how people see it, what its impact has been, and a general overview of the it’s legacy and lifespan, that sort of thing.
My thesis is most likely going to end up something in the ballpark of “How Roosterteeth exemplifies the Franchisation of Indie Media” or “Why RvB is one of the most complicated/misunderstood/divisive shows in modern media” or “How Fandoms interpret and recontextualize media”
I’m going to guess that I likely won’t be able to post the finished paper up online without a solid buffer window to avoid the two mortifying scenarios that are (a) being accused of creative plagiarism and (b) having to tell my instructor that the tumblr account with a 100% match to my course final is, in fact, my tumblr account, are two things I desperately want to avoid.
However if I can, simply for the sake of contributing to the fandom and creating something for us to all contribute to and discuss and crediting various peoples’ help and input would be ideal and, if at all possible, that would be the end goal.
so yeah. if you’re up for it I’d love for you to dm me your thoughts or (more conveniently for the both of us) fill out this Google form down here!
*im not gonna, like, repost your detailed character analysis as my own or something. I’m just trying to find some good quotes, general opinions, and ideas from the fandom so that I can accurately represent them and do our little corner of the internet Justice. And also because the audience of a work is a massive factor in media analysis lmfao. and also to create a community sourced Fun Thing™️ we can all look at and bite the corners off of instead of watching Roosterteeth crash and burn in the backgroun
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cal-kestis · 1 year
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HOW TO: Make a Pantone “Color of the Year” Gif
A few people have asked about my Pantone sets which use the “Color of the Year” swatch design. So, here’s a full tutorial with a downloadable template of my exact overlay! Disclaimer: This tutorial assumes you have a basic understanding of gif-making in Photoshop.
PHASE 1: PICKING A SCENE + PANTONE COLOR(S)
I’m starting with this because it’s crucial for planning your gifset as well as making sure the execution is smooth sailing. The steps in this phase won’t necessarily be literal steps but some tips for how I usually go about making a Pantone set:
1.1 – Picking a scene.  Scene selection is everything. To make things easy on yourself, I suggest choosing scenes where the background is mainly ONE color — for example, a scene where the subject has a clear blue sky behind them. To make things even easier, choose a color that isn’t the same color as the subject of your gif. Like, if your subject is a human, I’d avoid using a gif with a red or yellow background unless you want to do a lot more work to mask their skin. 
Rip me using a scene of green lil Grogu in green grass lmao. But I guess that goes to show you could really do this with any scene (I just did lots of masking and keyframe animations to perfect this green shade). BUT selecting your scenes wisely = a lot less work. 
1.2 – Picking Pantone colors.  People often ask me how I choose my colors and there are a few methods which I’ll go over below. 
But note that not all Pantone colors have a cute name, or any name (fun fact: only Pantone textiles have official names and they end with TCX, TPX, or TPG).
METHOD A: Google Search “Pantone [Color]” Source: Google Easy but not always fruitful, all you do for this method is open Google and type “Pantone [insert color here].” For example, when searching for teal colors, I searched several things including: Pantone Teal, Pantone Turquoise, Pantone Blue, Pantone Green, Pantone Blue Green, etc. Then, just sift through the Google results and click on whatever comes up from the official Pantone website! Since Pantone’s site blocks some info behind a paywall, you won’t be able to get a hex code from them. But you can just screenshot the swatch from their site, put it in Photoshop, and use the eyedropper tool to figure out the color.
METHOD B: Color-Name Site Source: https://www.color-name.com/ This handy website lets you search by colors using the upper navigation bar. Or you can just type something like "magenta" or "blue pantone" or even “frog” and see what comes up lol. Color-name can put together palettes too! I like that this site also tells you the hex code of a color, which is really helpful for getting the right code to put in my overlay. Note: Not every color on this site is a Pantone textile, so not all of these names are Pantone-official names. You can tell it’s official if, in the Pantone row of the Color Codes table on the middle of the page, it has a code that’s 2 numbers, a dash, 4 numbers, and either TCX, TPX, or TPG.
METHOD C: User-Made Pantone Colors Archive Source: https://margaret2.github.io/pantone-colors/ For my Wednesday characters as Pantone colors set, it was all about matching the color name to the character’s vibe. So, before looking at the actual colors themselves, I wanted to find the perfect color names. I stumbled upon this page. The pros = it lists pretty much all of the current official Pantone names. The cons = it’s not convenient since there’s no filtering tool. You can do Command+F and search for keywords, but that’s it. I literally scrolled through this whole page for my Wednesday set and read every single name, which... I think means... something’s wrong with me /lh /hj
METHOD D: Official Pantone Color Finder Source: https://www.pantone.com/pantone-connect This is last on my list because I don’t actually recommend it. Unless you already have access to this resource from your school or work or something, I would never pay for it and it is a paid feature only. Boooo 👎 But there is a free trial (which I’ve never used), so if you want to see what it’s about, you can definitely go for it.
PHASE 2: MAKING THE BASE GIF
Again, just some super quick tips for making a gif that, I think, looks best with this kind of set — but if you’re still learning how to gif, I do have a basic gif-making tutorial here for extra guidance!
2.1 – Uncheck “Delete Cropped Pixels” before cropping your gif. When you use the crop tool, this checkbox appears in the top toolbar. Unchecking it allows you to move the positioning of your gif later on, which is handy in this case when you want to choose which part of your gif will be underneath the Pantone swatch. You can read more about this tip in my basic gif-making tutorial (linked above; Step 1.5 – Tip B).
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2.2 – Make your gif 540px width. My gifs for these sets are usually 540x540px but I think 540x500px will also look good. I think it’s more impactful though to make a big gif to show off your coloring.
PHASE 3: ADDING THE PANTONE OVERLAY
3.1 – Download my template I made this template myself, so all I ask is that you don’t claim it as your own and that you give me proper insp or template credit in your caption if you decide to use it! Get the PSD with the transparent background here!
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3.2 – Download the font Helvetica Neue Bold The font I use (and I’m pretty sure it’s the same font Pantone uses) is Helvetica Neue Bold, with some very specific letter spacing (which I determined by studying Pantone’s official Color of the Year Very Peri design). It’s already set in my .psd but here are specs in case: color name spacing = -40, color code spacing = -75 (sometimes I’ll do -25 for the numbers after the dash if I don’t like how tightly they’re packed together). 
I uploaded Helvetica Neue Bold to my dropbox here!
3.3 – Import my overlay You can either drag the whole folder onto your gif from tab to tab or right-click the folder, select Duplicate Group, and select your gif as the destination document. Just make sure this overlay group is above your base gif!
3.4 – Fill the color swatch In my .psd, on the layer labeled “Pantone Swatch,” just grab the hex code of your chosen Pantone color and fill that layer using the Paint Bucket tool! I’ve already put a layer mask on the layer for you so it fits perfectly inside the square outline.
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If you’re using my .psd, all the blend mode settings are already in place! I usually set the colored square behind the Pantone logo to the Color blend mode, but sometimes, I prefer the way Hue looks. It’s up to you! 
You can also adjust the drop shadow settings to make your text more visible as needed. The layers are arranged in this order so the drop shadows don’t interfere with the semi-transparent part of the colored swatch. 
3.5 – Insert the color name and code My .psd has two versions to choose from: (1) a color name that fits on one line and (2) a color name that requires two lines. Use the one that applies to your color name and simply type that and color code into the corresponding text layers! 
Note 1: Pantone doesn’t keep their font size uniform for every color of the year. They’ll sometimes shrink the text to fit longer names, but I like being consistent. So, I use this one font size for all my colors.
Note 2: My template has all the text left-justified and matching the starting point of the P in Pantone. BUT, sometimes the gif looks better if you nudge the text a bit so it looks more centered. Use your discretion when aligning the text!
Note 3: Btw, you definitely don’t have to use the TCX/TPG codes like me. (I’m a nut and there’s no way I’ll ever do a Pantone set and not use those types of codes to maintain uniformity across this series lol.) I’ve seen others do sets inspired by mine using different color codes or even just the hex code itself!
PHASE 4: COLORING THE BASE GIF
The key here is to make a majority of your gif feature your chosen Pantone swatch. If you’re really smart with your scene selections, this should be a breeze! If you’re stubborn like me and want to use specific scenes with the opposite color of your chosen Pantone swatch, there will be a bit more color manipulation involved... However, this isn’t a coloring tutorial, so again, I’m going to give some tips and resources that will hopefully help you out!
4.1 – Color matching. Now that you have the Pantone swatch on your gif, you should be able to reference that center square set to Color/Hue to match the rest of your gif to that color. Feel free to paint a little blob of your color onto another layer anywhere on your gif so you can refer to it closer over a specific part of your gif. For example, I put a little circle over Grogu’s head to see how closely I matched Pantone’s Peapod color, then I tweaked my adjustment layers a bit more until the colors matched near perfectly and I couldn’t tell where that blob begins or ends. The left is the solid color and the right is set to the blending mode Color (like the square):
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4.2 – Moving the base gif. This isn’t really about coloring... but remember when I said to uncheck “Delete Cropped Pixels” in Step 2.1? Well, here’s your chance to adjust your canvas and move the gif around so the exact part you want under the color swatch is in the right position. I personally think these kinds of sets are more impactful when you put a differently colored part of your gif under the swatch so you can see through it and the difference is clearer. In my example, I put Grogu in the center so the green box would cover some of his brown potato sack robe.
4.3 – Color manipulation. Color manipulation is when you transform your media’s original color grading into a completely different color. The Grogu gif isn’t a great example because the original scene was already a green-yellow color:
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I mean, the difference is still pretty drastic but that’s mostly because my file was HDR and washed out as a result.
So, here’s an example I made using a gif from my first Pantone set for ITSV (I’m not doing this demo to the Grogu gif because it’d be too much work to manipulate a green background with a green subject. This ITSV scene is perfect bc the majority of it is blue while the subjects are mostly red.)
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For the “basic coloring,” I did everything as I normally would: mostly levels and selective color layers.
For color manipulation, my fav adjustment layer is Hue/Saturation (those are the screenshots that are on the gif above). When you’re smart with your scene selection, it’s pretty easy to manipulate colors with one Hue/Sat layer because you usually only need to tamper with 1-2 colors and, hopefully, they shouldn’t interfere with skin tones (obviously you’ll do other layers to further enhance your gif’s brightness, contrast, etc. — but I just mean the heavy lifting usually only takes me one layer with a good scene choice). 
All you have to do is figure out what color the majority of your gif is, toggle to that color’s channel, and fiddle with the hue slider. In the gif above, you can see that I played with both the Blue and Cyan channels. Here’s why:
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If I only adjust the Blue hue slider, I get those speckles of cyan peaking through in the gif above. Unless you’re working with completely flat colors — like 2D animation with zero shading/highlights — a color is never just one, solid color. Blue isn’t just blue, it may have some cyan. Purple isn’t just purple, I often have to toggle the Blue channel too. So, yeah, be mindful of that!
I’ll sometimes go in with the brush tool and paint over some areas of my gif to really smooth out the color and make it uniform. When I do that, I just set that painted layer to the Color blend mode. Some of the resources below go into that technique a bit more!
4.4 – Coloring resources. While not all of these tutorials cover the same type of color manipulation I did in my gifs, I think the principles are similar and would be helpful to anyone who’s a beginner:  – color manipulation tutorial by usergif/me: I go a bit more in depth here (I think lol) – how to change the background of any gif by usergif/fionagallaqher: a great tutorial for using keyframes so you can manipulate the background of a gif with lots of motion – bea’s color isolation gif tutorial by nina-zcnik: this tutorial has more tips about hue/saturation layers as well as masking your subject – elio’s colouring tutorial by djarin: this tutorial shows a lot of examples of first manipulating the colors then brushing over the gif with a matching color for extra coverage
And just one last note on coloring, I always try to appreciate gifs with the mentality that “good” coloring is 100% subjective. One of the only things I would classify as “bad” coloring is when you whitewash or [color]wash someone’s skin tone. So, as long as you keep the integrity of your subjects’ natural skin — especially if they’re a POC — you should feel good about your coloring, because it’s yours and you worked hard! <3 
PHASE 4: EXPORT
That’s it!! If you work in Video Timeline like me, just convert from Timeline back to Frames, export your gif, and voila! 
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Easy PEAsy. 🥁 
If you have specific questions about this tutorial, my ask box is open <3
Also, check out these other Pantone-inspired sets by my friends @nobodynocrime (Mulan set) and @wakandasforever (Ponyo set)! There are so many ways to use Pantone colors in your set, so I hope this inspires you to create something beautifully colorful <3
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ao3cassandraic · 8 months
Text
Angels, demons, language, and culture: part 3
(Part 1 and Part 2 for those interested.)
"I play an ineffable game of my own devising. For everyone else, it’s like playing poker in a pitch dark room with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won’t tell you the rules and who smiles all the time." --God, Good Omens
This is just. Creepy and awful and so, so wrong for a quasi-omnipotent being. Ugh. Good Omens!God is an abject horror.
But if you're one of the poker players at that table, what do you do? You try to figure out the rules and mark the cards, naturally. Especially if leaving the table only happens via swan dives into burning sulphur, or getting kicked out of the only home you've known into a hostile desert with lions in it. While pregnant, yet.
So, I did a Bat Mitzvah back in the day, as it happens, and my Torah portion was from Deuteronomy. Which is, as I am hardly the first to notice, chockablock full of rules. Good Omens definitely leveraged (rather than inventing) the idea of trying to figure out Her rules and codify them in writing! Note, however, that the Bible per Word of Gaiman is a human thing. Codifying divine rules? Therefore also a human thing, minus I suppose the Ten Commandments -- though I can certainly envision a Good Omens in which Moses was, um, not exactly telling the truth about the source of the tablets; we only really have his word for it.
Angels and demons, who have a low opinion of literacy and just generally don't seem to be very good at it, never did this. We see that Aziraphale, Before the Beginning, has intuitively figured a few rules out: don't question Her, don't comment on (much less critique) Her decisions or designs, don't ever ever piss Her off. The Starmaker hasn't gotten this far, tragically, and our Crowley remains confused throughout the show as to what rule he can possibly have broken that earned him the identity-changing torture She inflicted on him.
Fundamentally, Crowley doesn't want to -- perhaps can't -- believe that She is capricious and cruel. He thinks there are rules, "don't test to destruction" being a major one. We know he's wrong, however. She straight-up told us so, in the quote at the top of this post! Aziraphale, too, knows, though he buries this knowledge as deep under the words "ineffable" and "Great Plan" (there is no Great Plan, She told us so, it's all a game to Her) as he possibly can -- I think as a coping mechanism -- and does his best to avoid drawing Her attention again after the Sword Incident.
But we see angelic and demonic confusion about the rules of Her game again and again. It's at the root of Aziraphale's successful Great Plan/Ineffable Plan hairsplitting at the airbase. It's why Aziraphale has to (with Muriel's help) dig through the contract for Job, and why Gabriel and Michael can't even be arsed to, even revising Job's reward on the fly. They're guessing! They're guessing about the rules based on what they've seen of Her caprices! She likes sevens!
It's how Crowley rules-lawyers the demons into letting the Whickber Street tradespeople go. If there are actual rules of Heaven-Hell engagement -- and there may not be! Crowley's pulled plausible-sounding lies out of his arse before! -- I'll bet you anything you like practically nobody in Heaven or Hell has actually read them. (My top picks for rules-of-engagement authors, if those rules actually do exist, would be Satan and the Metatron.)
And it's why Uriel has to ask the Metatron, as unsure and afraid as Uriel has ever looked in the entire series, whether the remaining archangels have done something wrong. The Metatron's response refuses to clarify what's at issue -- he, like Her, won't tell anybody the rules. If I'm feeling extremely cynical, I think She and he refuse to explain the rules because they're more powerful if there's no rulebook that rank-and-file angels can use to contest them with.
It makes me so sad. The legions of Heaven would assuredly have followed Her rules, if they only knew what those rules were! Fanart of the just-fallen Starmaker routinely breaks my susceptible heart, not least because the commonest expressions on his face are agony, sorrow -- and confusion. It's just all so damn unfair.
Same with Job, and Peter Davison sells it beautifully. Poor Job assumes he must have broken Her rules somehow, and blames himself for not even knowing how. That's totally on Her, though! If Her rules aren't clear enough for righteous Job to be able to trust his own righteousness under a horrible test, that's Her fault, not his!
The closest that Heaven and Hell -- and humanity, for that matter -- have to Her rules is prophecy. I probably don't need to spill many pixels on how vague and confusing prophecy is, how often it's counterfeited, and how pointless it is to try to live your life by (or trying to avoid) true prophecies; prophecies will invariably gotcha you. Good Omens is hardly the first work of literature to point this out. (Try the story of Oedipus. That's a good one. Yeesh. Or, if we want to be all Biblical about it, Moses again.) Agnes Nutter may well be the only genuinely well-meaning prophet in the entire history of prophets! Even so, her book is incredibly bewildering! Generations of her descendants try to figure it out, and mostly they fail -- look at the annotations we see on Anathema's index cards.
So when @thundercrackfic asks me what Aziraphale gets out of books, my first (though not only) answer is "rules for living." Not just rules for living as safely as possible around Her, though -- rules for living among humans, too. I headcanon (and posited in "Endgame") that Aziraphale has been collecting human etiquette manuals as long as humans have been writing etiquette manuals. Codified rules, like the ones in Deuteronomy, likely help him feel more secure.
I think this is also why Muriel characterizes books as portable people. Muriel is trying their sweet adorable best to figure out the Earth rules on the fly, since nobody Upstairs told them (or indeed knows, the Metatron aside) what those rules are. They do have Aziraphale to help them along -- Aziraphale is so much better than Upstairs! he doesn't condescend or insult, he just gently instructs -- but Aziraphale can't teach full-time, he has other things on his plate. So Muriel the scrivener, one of the few angels who would have a clue about literacy due to the nature of their job, gravitates to books and discovers that they too can be gentle and compassionate teachers.
The final question outstanding is how well Aziraphale understands and assimilates human books, especially fiction, especially especially non-literal figures of speech. It's an excellent and complicated question, and I don't think I have The Answer to it, but I'll see what I can do.
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lizzie-is-here · 1 year
Text
lonely is a man without love
part iii- cairo
“i am a deserted sky, and you are the moonlight” - manoj muntashir
summary: you and marc head to cairo, and you make a shocking discovery in the form of a giant skeleton bird
wordcount: 4k
warnings: language, violence, vague references to the red room, drinking, slight pining, a saddening lack of steven
a/n: yuhhh posting this before my bday tomorrow so i can get crunk af. ALSO TAYLOR AND JOE? sobbing. but i hope y’all enjoy love y’all sm sm sm 🫶
taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope @undiscl0sed-d3sir3s @iateall-yourcookies @disregardedplant @sunflowers-4 @yellowumbrelllaaaa @bagsy-not-it @local-mr-frog @thescarletredwitch @jupitersmoon167 @creamecafe @stevenknightmarc @theluciansystem @kingtwhiddleston @spider-biter @mxltifxnd0m @sgt-morgan @no-dont-be-suspicious @onzayhe @namorslit @i-cant-write-for-shit
i’m sorry it won’t let me tag some of y’all 😭
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Marc pokes and prods for more intel on your profession the whole plane ride to Cairo.
Honestly, it’s more of a harsh interrogation at this point, with him making sure you aren’t working for any remnant of the Red Room that managed to stay alive. Once he’s satisfied and his temper cools, you explain why you were sent.
“Righteous” justice or not, he was a danger, killing random people all over Europe and shaking off hits that no normal person should be able to. And the team liked to keep tabs on enhanced beings.
“So the actual Avengers are worried about me? It’s not like I’m going after them,” he says.
You laugh, loud and obnoxious. “Worried? No, you misunderstand. It’s more of a public safety precaution. Just making sure all of our loose ends are tied.”
“Loose ends being…?”
“Hydra. The Red Room-“ You gesture to yourself. “Aliens. Things like that.”
“Yeah…” Marc says, hesitant. “‘Things like that’, sure.”
You lean over a bit, scanning the plane from your aisle seat to check for threats. All you see are tired passengers, dozing off or absorbed in the small TVs on the backs of the seats.
Once satisfied, you turn back to Marc.
“If you want to sleep, now’s a good time. Once we get to Cairo, we’re not going to have much time to rest,” you say, nodding to the TV. 3 hours away.
He eyes you, a bit suspiciously, but closes his eyes anyway. With a sigh, you stand up, snaking through the aisles to the bathroom. You grab your phone and tap a favorited contact.
“(Y/N)?”
“Tasha,” you greet. “Is it a bad time?”
Your friend shakes her head, holding up the phone to show the group. “We just finished a movie, what’s up?”
“So… Marc Spector is here. He has DID, and Steven Grant is an alter, not an alibi. Things are getting serious.”
She nods. “That explains a lot.” You’d been relaying your experiences to them for weeks, and they’d shared in your confusion. Her tone turns more stern. “How serious?”
“Cults, magic, something about a scarab? It’s out of my expertise.”
“Do you need backup?” Steve’s voice calls from the other side of the couch.
You shake your head. “No, it’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s just fucking weird.”
A chorus of laughter goes up on the other end of the phone and you smile, rolling your eyes when a knock lands on the bathroom door.
“I just wanted to update you. We’re heading to Cairo now, so…” You shrug. “I will maybe get some souvenirs.”
The knocking grows more incessant.
“Will you hold on? Your shits can wait!” you call. Turning your attention back to the phone, you sigh. “I’ve got to go. This person is going to kick the door down.”
Nat nods and mock-salutes you. “Have fun, stay safe. You can always call, (Y/N).”
With a brief goodbye, you wash your hands and leave, awkwardly waving at the small child who was the source of the knocking. Sitting down, you sigh, listening to the sound of air and propellers.
No sleep for you, you guess.
———————————————————————
When the plane lands and you rush off, you and Marc find the closest hotel and buy separate rooms.
Even after securing the room and stuffing a gun under your pillow, you still sleep lightly. A shattering sound wakes you, bright light from outside invading your eyes, and you curse under your breath as you clamber out of bed.
You slip out of your door and into Marc’s room, gun still gripped in your hand.
He’s sitting on the floor, head in his hands. A mirror is shattered.
“Are you gonna break more mirrors or can we start the day?” you ask. He raises a bottle.
Snatching it from him, you down the last of the fiery liquid and chuck the bottle. It lands somewhere on the ground behind you, brown glass joining the reflective shards on the tile.
He drunkenly laughs, looking up to where you stand.
Your hair is free and rustled, not like how you normally have it. Your hair is always braided or tied back, something he now realizes is a habit from your training.
There’s a gun in your hand, and he can see your finger on the trigger. Marc regrets waking you, partially out of guilt and partially because he’s once more been reminded that you’re a killer. Which reminds him that he’s a killer.
You’re just a much prettier killer. Much.
“Are you going to get up? Or are you going to stare at me like you want to fight me again?” you laugh. “Because it did not go so great for you last time-“
He waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah. ‘M gettin’ up,” he finally says, and you slip away, avoiding glass and heading back to your own room to dress for the day.
Light colors, thin fabrics. Anything to stave off the heat. Once you’re both ready, you and Marc head into the city.
You don’t mention the mysterious absence of Steven, who the vigilante is definitely suppressing. Said vigilante is too busy hunting down his target.
He shakes off the last bit of drunkenness as he leads you up a ladder, not really telling you where you’re going or why. It doesn’t bother you, per se, but you are curious as to how he knows where to go. Sometimes he glances at empty spaces, as if listening to something not quite there.
You have no time to ponder this strange behavior as you leap across rooftops and nimbly avoid obstacles that Marc barrels through.
Your question as to who you’re hunting down is answered when you see a group of men, with one being stabbed in the stomach right as you arrive. Great.
“Oh, shit,” Marc sighs. “You killed him? I needed to talk to that guy. About a dig sight.”
“I don’t think they can un-stab him,” you snort.
He nods. “True. Guess I’m gonna have to talk to you all instead.”
“You’re too late,” one of them growls. “You’re never gonna find Harrow.”
“That’s his name?” You audibly gag. “Eugh, that’s a shit name for a cult leader.”
The guy tosses his knife in the air, following it up by tracing the blade along the ground.
“Ooh,” Marc says. “What, are we dancin’? We fightin’? What are we gonna do?” You step back as one of them lunges, deciding to go easy on them and not use a weapon.
Slamming one against the wall is easy enough, though he gets up soon after and targets Marc instead. One of them, a kid, charges at you.
You disarm him and shove him on his ass, not wasting your time on a literal child. Whipping around, you grab the handle of a knife as it zooms past, a few inches past your shoulder.
“Seriously? Learn to aim,” you say to yourself as you toss the knife off the roof.
It’s going rather well for a street fight. Much more fun, albeit less challenging than any of your Red Room missions.
And then it all goes to shit.
Marc’s got a knife to a guy’s throat, but something changes. A brief moment of silence, and he slams the blunt handle on his head, hard enough for him to bleed.
You let him go to town fighting the other two, who are now much more scared of him. It’s only when he meets your gaze that you realize something is deeply wrong. The hairs on your neck rise.
That’s not Marc. Definitely not Steven.
Your suspicions are confirmed when he leaps from the roof and disappears into the crowd.
What the fuck?
You follow, sprinting down streets as you barely stay on his tail.
When you manage to catch up to Marc, or whoever, he’s staring down a cliff with two dead bodies on the ground. You don’t have to look to know that the third lies at the base of the steep drop.
“Marc? What the fuck just happened?” you demand.
He whirls around, fear in his eyes.
“I- I don’t know. That wasn’t me, or Steven. So what-”
The wind swirling interrupts him, and he stares off at a rusty car.
“And what is so interesting about the car that-”
“We have to find Harrow. What about the other gods?”
You furrow your brow. “What?”
A disembodied voice responds, “To signal with an audience with the gods is to risk their wrath-”
You’ve never pulled out a gun faster. Turning in circles, you find no source. No people, no tech. Your breath quickens, aiming the firearm at random.
“Okay, Marc?” you begin. “I’m all good with cults, and floating scarabs, and even some magic, but you are going to have to explain that voice before I start freaking out.”
The man sighs, glancing back to the air.
“I serve the Egyptian god Khonshu. I’m his… avatar.” The delusional nature of his statement is offset by how naturally he says it, so much so that you do a double-take.
“And you’re just telling me this now? Of course, of course, the first mission I go on after fighting a grape from space has Egyptian gods,” you hiss. “Don’t tell the public, Thor’s got plenty of fangirls that you don’t want.”
The voice sounds again. “I doubt they’d find the same appeal in me.”
You shrug, but when you turn in the direction it came from, you see it. And boy is it ugly.
An absurdly large bird skull, the body covered in mummification wrappings, and a large staff at his side.
“Cool. Cool-cool-cool. You were saying about talking to the other gods?” you mumble, trying to ignore the large bird thing.
“Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Marc asks.
“Anger them enough and they’ll imprison me in stone,” the thing -Khonshu- says.
“That doesn’t sound too bad to me,” the man next to you says. You nod in agreement.
“You are very ugly,” you state bluntly.
Evidently unused to people disrespecting him, the god slams his staff on the ground.
“Not many mortals are allowed to even see my form, much less speak to me. It is a blessing.”
“Yes, well, I don’t feel very blessed.”
He turns his attention back to his avatar. “See how well you fare against Harrow without the protection of my healing armor.”
“All right, so what? Do you have any good ideas?”
“I have a bad one.” With that, he disappears.
You glance up, noticing the light dimming. You are met with a solar eclipse. So he can fully move the moon with no regard to its position or that the next eclipse was not for a good while? Huh.
Marc leads you down some stairs, past Khonshu as they talk.
“The gods all have avatars,” he explains. “They’re gathering now, but I don’t know…”
A wall begins to open itself, revealing a tunnel lined with glowing hieroglyphs. “... how to get there,” he finishes.
“I don’t fuck with small, dark, magic tunnels,” you say. “Besides, I don’t think I should join you.”
Marc smiles, visibly nervous. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you shrug.
“You’ll be fine, okay? Meet me here when you’re done, I will wait and see what I can learn about any leads.” It’s the nicest thing you’ve said to him, so he nods, steels his nerves, and heads down the tunnel. As soon as it shuts, you sigh.
“‘Egyptian mythology’,” you whisper to yourself as you type into a search bar. “I guess the black market is a good place to start.”
———————————————————————
You’re wandering through a marketplace when Marc finds you. The Red Room taught you to blend in perfectly, but he manages to spot you when he hears a loud laugh.
In your hand are a drink and a tangerine, which you may or may not have stolen.
“Can you find anything about Senfu’s sarcophagus?” he asks.
“Ouch, no ‘Hi’?” you tease before obliging. As you search with Stark tech assisting you, you glance at Marc. “It didn’t go well.”
“No,” he agrees. “They brought in Harrow, called me crazy, and denied my request.”
“Hmm, some council.” You finally break into a smile, holding your phone flat and projecting your findings. “Mogart. Some black market collector that is conveniently… 24 miles away.”
It takes a while to double-check your intel and find a boat, and the sun has set by the time you’re onboard. Sitting on the end, away from the other groups, Marc watches you, observing the cheerful passengers. A few young girls dance to the loud music, just enjoying the night as you look away.
“You know, I know almost nothing about you,” Marc says.
“I could say the same about you. Other than the file.”
He doesn’t balk at the mention of a debriefing on him, just smirks. “Yeah? Well, you know I work for an Egyptian god, I’ve got a British man living in my head, and the basics. All I know is your name and your-” He gestures at you. “-previous job.”
“You don’t want to know about the Red Room, I promise.” Your smile is a bit bittersweet. “It’s not pretty.”
“My past isn’t either.”
You hum. “The Red Room makes child assassins,” you say, avoiding too much detail. “And… I was cycled through the Black Widow programme three times. I was good at it, too.” That’s all you give up, gauging his reaction.
His gaze softens, not with pity, but with empathy. “How young were you? When you started- The training, I mean.”
The question manages to cause a lump in your throat. This is why you don’t like thinking about it.
You soften the truth when you manage to speak. “I don’t remember a time before it.”
A hand rests on yours. And the two of you sit in silence for a bit, quiet understanding lingering.
“And you?” you say, blinking away the small amount of water building in your eyes. “Did you always work for the bird?”
“No. But I was fighting for a while before I met him. ‘ve done plenty of horrible shit in my life even without him asking me to.”
“And I’ve done horrible things to get out of the Red Room. We have something in common.”
Marc shakes his head. “No, you… you’re out. Hell, you’re working with the Avengers. You’ve made up for it.”
If he knew what you’d done, he wouldn’t be so quick to absolve you. You brush that thought away.
“Well,” you begin, leaning back on the seat. “It’s never too late to start.”
The boat reaches the banks before he can respond or be further distracted by the rings on your hands. Or how your body twists and curves as you quickly jump onto dry land.
“Got an alibi?” you ask, watching Marc stash the duffel bag under the dock.
He hums, shrugging. “A few. Rufino Estrada,” he decides. “What about you?”
“I’m going in as myself. Obviously, not an Avenger, but…” You tie your jacket around your waist, allowing your t-shirt to hide many of your weapons.
On your belt, there are two guns and a handful of knives, but Marc’s eyes are drawn to your wrists. Gauntlets flicker red, electricity in them crackling as you check your weapons.
He speaks after you fire an experimental blast into the ground. “And what’s our story here?”
“You hired me as security, and you are in the business for this sarcophagus. You’re a reputable antiques buyer who previously had ties to Dreykov, the head of the Red Room. I’ve already sent that information ahead.” You flash a charming smile to the man, who still seems a bit on edge. “Mogart made a few small deals with him, so he knows how serious the Widows are. It’s a perfect alibi.”
You two approach a large track, with men jousting under bright lights as music blares from the speakers.
Schooling your expression as you approach a man, you tilt your chin up.
“Where is your boss?” you ask, voice much darker and accented than usual.
“Ma’am-“
“I sent a message earlier. We’re here for the sarcophagus.” The man immediately nods and rushes off as you lead Marc forward. “Don’t drop the act,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”
The guy introduces himself as Bek and guides you toward the track. “He’s excited to meet you. He hasn’t been able to speak to any of the infamous Black Widows after the Red Room fell.”
They were scattered across every continent on Earth, rebuilding their lives. Of course he wouldn’t find them.
“Excuse me a moment. Mr. Mogart will be with you shortly,” Bek says, slipping away.
You lean against the railing, the Widow Bites on your wrists glowing red at the movement.
“So what?” Marc starts. “This joker just puts on El-Mermah games in his backyard for fun?”
You click your tongue. “Ah, who knows? Rich people are weird.”
“Sir, Agent. Come in.” The man, dressed in a dark red robe, greets you with a more than relaxed attitude. “I hear you’re interested in my collection?”
Marc nods. “I hear you have Senfu’s sarcophagus.”
“And who told you that?” This is tedious, you think to yourself. Diplomacy and bargaining, it makes you want to heave.
“The best in the business.” Marc gestures to you.
Mogart seems convinced by this, and you begin to head toward a group of buildings.
“I hope you understand this is more than a collection to me. Preserving history is a responsibility I take very seriously.”
“No one asked you to do that,” you comment mildly, baring your teeth in a sinister grin when he frowns at you. “Yet, here we are.”
Mogart brushes off the thinly veiled insult with a chuckle. “I forgot how deep Widows cut,” he jokes. “How was the old boss before he died? May he rest in peace.”
“Pieces,” you correct, struggling to speak well of the man that previously controlled every aspect of your life. “Helicopter explosion. He… He died powerful and influential. What he would’ve wanted.”
Mogart doesn’t push further, thankfully, coming to a stop in front of a glass pyramid.
“If I may ask, why such interest in Senfu in particular?”
You have a fake reason, but he gestures for Marc to answer. Shit.
“I think that… I just think I would love to take a look,” he says. He’s confident, but it’s an awkward pause.
Mogart concedes. “Funny man. Feel free.”
As you enter the area housing said tomb, you glance at Marc.
“You need to let Steven out. He knows more than either of us and we cannot afford to blow this,” you whisper.
Marc scoffs. “Not a chance. All right, what do you see?”
“The burial practices,” you begin, recalling your research from earlier. “They’re in line with the Studenwachen texts.”
“The what?”
You roll your eyes, exasperated. “Apparently I’m the only one who studied. It means it’s real. But all of this is just instructions to guide the dead.”
“So?”
“No locations indicated.”
Marc glances up at the ceiling, likely listening to Steven. He turns back to you, voice hushed.
“Ok, will you give me a minute? I gotta talk to Steven. Keep him occupied.”
You nod, slipping away with a sigh of relief.
“Mr. Estrada needs some time alone,” you announce, watching said man ramble to himself. “He’s… praying.”
This doesn’t stop Bek, who storms in and grabs Marc’s arm. On instinct, the ex-Marine disarms him, also giving up your cover.
Guns are trained on you in an instant, and you raise your hands.
“Marc!” you shout. He spots you, and for a second you think he’s gonna shoot the guy and leave you to fend for yourself. Instead, he curses and gives up the gun.
“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” Mogart asks. “Get on your knees.”
Marc obliges, and the robed man sneers at you. “I really thought you were a possible ally.” A gun shoved against your neck forces you forward. “I used to be Dreykov’s customer, a friend, even.”
“You think I’d want anything to do with the man who ruined my life?” you laugh. “Dreykov was a coward. And I wish I’d been the one to kill him.”
“Hey-“ Marc steps in. “Take a look inside the sarcophagus. There’s somethin’ really, really big.”
Before Mogart can look, Bek speaks to him in French. You freeze.
“It appears we have a concerned third party here,” he says. “Get up.”
“Harrow,” you mouth to Marc, trying to find the zealot. He stands with two men, leaning on his staff.
“Whatever they’ve told you, I’m sure I can offer something much more tangible.” The scarab floats above his hand. “Why settle for a clue when you can have the treasure?”
Arguing breaks out as Marc snaps at Harrow, who simply turns to each of you. “You all have more in common than you know.”
“(Y/N), you think that ignoring the past will keep it from catching up to you. That missions can give you a purpose, but it’s closing in.”
You’re so taken aback by him knowing your name and reading you so well that you don’t hear another word.
“Do it. Summon the suit,” Khonshu says, appearing on a rooftop. “Give them what they deserve.”
You exchange a glance with Marc, subtly nodding to your gun, and then to the distracted guards.
Meanwhile, Harrow calls on his staff, using it to destroy the sarcophagus. By the time the cultish leader is gone, so is Marc.
Panic starts immediately, and you grin despite being surrounded.
“Well, boys. Looks like you’re in trouble.”
Mogart and Bek run as Marc starts attacking, throwing down curved blades as you grab your gun. Shooting down three guards is easy enough, but more are firing from the track.
“Here!” Marc covers you with his cape, blocking the gunfire in a way you don’t understand.
You catch your breath, looking up where his eyes glow through the suit.
“Can you buy me some time?”
“Absolutely.”
You run to the tomb, grabbing the tattered fabric. When you turn around, you come face to face with Bek.
Thinking fast, you throw shards of glass at his face and kick him in the stomach. He grabs a knife as you dodge his attacks, ducking in time for his knife to land in the mummy.
You take the advantage, slamming the grip of your gun into his nose. He tosses you away to grab the knife, but as he turns around, you fire off a single shot.
A quick death, it could be worse.
Running to the track where Marc is pinned down, you jump the fence. There’s multiple javelins stabbed through him, and you shoot a rider with another ready.
As you aim for the rest, however, you take a blow to the head. You hit the dirt, trying to rise as your vision blurs.
You can hear hoofbeats pounding in your head, only increasing the incoming headache. He’s got a javelin.
“Fuck that hurts,” you mutter, pushing yourself into a sitting position with your gauntlet trained on the figure. Even as Mogart heads for Marc, you don’t waver, especially when he sticks out the weapon to attack you at the last second.
Marc tackles you out of the way, enveloping you as he rolls to safety and tosses a last knife. It doesn’t miss.
Sighing in relief, you let your head flop onto his shoulder as you try to fight off the ache. He pats you on the back as his wounds mend under the suit. A luxury you don’t have.
“There you go. That’s it, deep breaths,” he mumbles, not really sure when you got comfortable enough with each other to sit like this.
He tries his best not to focus on the weight of you leaning on him, trusting him enough to rest, safely tucked in his arms. It feels nice, to have someone trust him like this. Marc hasn’t had that in a long time.
He coughs a bit and you pull away, leaving a cold, exposed feeling where your touch was. Shakily standing, you observe the bodies scattered on the sand.
“We should keep moving,” you say softly. “Don’t want them to catch up.”
Marc can only nod as he fights to keep from reaching for you.
“Yeah. We’ll keep moving.”
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2goldendarkness · 20 days
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I usually reblog, rather than make my own posts, but seeing everyone in the gaze community deal with their grief by writing things down has given me some courage to do the same. I hope it will help me in my grieving process and i hope to help everyone who does relate to what i write. So this will be my farewell letter.
Dear Reita,
I got the news seven days too late, like how it usually is for me coming into a fandom.
I became a fan about 8 years ago, i was doing a creative education as a designer, listening to random music on Youtube with autoplay. Suddenly i found Red, the first song that got me into the Gazette, i was glued to my screen and intrigued with the looks of all members. But why the hell was that one guy wearing a band around his nose? I needed to get into it. So i did.
The gazette then became my first and favorite Visual kei band, i’ve been trough a lot in my life and whenever hardship struck me, there was always an interview that would make me laugh. When i had boring days in school we even played a game, my friends would ask me “why is he covering his nose?” And i would make up the weirdest stories on the spot. That resulted in some charms with titles like ‘reita and the smelly drummer.’ And ‘reita the drugs dealer.’ It varied from poking fun and making up the stupidest thing, to making you some cool guy who fought bad guys. It would always make us laugh, even though, i was making up these stories to friends who weren’t even necessarily in the fandom, because everyone who saw you once, knew your name and so knew who you were.
I wrote fanfiction, many in where you play a big part of the story, not as a love interest, but as a brother of a character based off of me. All because you once said in a radio show that you feel like you’d be a great older brother, hell did i take you up on that one.
I never got to see The Gazette live, i used to curse you all for skipping my country and forcing me to travel for 5 hours to see you all. In 2018 i was almost at that point, but i couldn’t go because of my exams and because i had no friends who wanted to come with me. I always promised myself: one day, i will see them.
It hurts me to realize that day will never come, at least you won’t be there anymore. I accidentally open instagram, and find a grief post written by Hiroto of Alice nine, in the hashtags your name. Shock, that’s the first thing i felt. I must be going crazy. But next up was Miyavi’s post and as i read that it slowly starts downing upon me, my heart sinks to my stomach and a lump forms in my throat as i rush to jrocknews to confirm they aren’t just playing a sick joke.
I start crying like most of the sixth guns, but only after i start reading the members messages. Why am i crying? We’ve lost a talented bass player who inspired so many people to also start making music. The world lost ‘the world’s Reita’ who was always poking fun at the drummer. The bookstores lost their most unexpected romance buyer. Many lost their source of love and joy. I’ve lost my fictional brother.
But most importantly, your actual family lost a loving family member who bought his mother an entire house to repay her for raising him well. The Gazette lost a member. Kai lost his fear during interviews of whatever you are going to say next. Ruki lost being in your personal space no matter how big the dressing room. Aoi lost the person who’s jokes he could laugh the hardest about. Uruha lost his longtime best friend, and now can no longer feel your heart racing before the show, nor can he feel your hand searching for his heart.
I hope everyones feelings reach you, i hope that whichever way you passed, was peaceful and without pain. I hope that whenever it is our time, you come in your mustang to pick everyone up. Usually as a driving instructor i call shotgun, but i’ll leave that space to your close relatives. That way i can’t judge you for turning around while parking, rather than using your mirrors.
Thank you for everything Reita, you will never be forgotten. Once my grief is gone, i promise to remember you with a smile rather than cry. I also promise to be a fan of The Gazette no matter what they decide to do now you’re gone.
And to whomever read my entire message, thank you for reading this unhinged post.
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trips2saturn · 2 months
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didn’t do last week’s but here it is: TOWL EPISODE 5 SPOILERS BELOW!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️‍🔥
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ANOTHER LEGENDARY EPISODE FOR THE TWD HISTORY BOOKS. can we get a round of applause please? 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 yes. great. perfect.
you already know what i’m about to scream about. THE RICHONNE PROPOSAL™️ HELLODHSJDHSKBDJSHSHSSBSBSJEISNS DID I NOT PREDICT IT YES OR NO. YES I DID!!!!! THE RING 😭😭😭 HIS SPEECH 😭😭😭 HIM GETTING ON ONE KNEE AND THEN SHE GETS ON HER KNEES TOO?!?1?2!$:)!/!:/& HER RESPONSE TOO?! SEDATE ME THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED. imagine thinking we haven’t won the damn lottery with this ship it’s neverrrr over for us i love them i love them so much they’re going home next episode, and we’re going to see the ring on her finger WATCH THIS SPACE ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹🥺😁
not even five minutes into the episode and i was being ambushed with both admiration and TORTUROUS PAIN. the cute little callback to 7x12 of them just being on the road, scavenging, surviving, and loving on each other was sooooo cute. rick kissing the back of mich’s hand. DOES THIS SHOW WANT ME TO DO SOMETHING VERY CATASTROPHIC BC I WILL.
BOOM. immediate anguish right after their cutie scene because what does rick do? OH RIGHT HE PULLS OUT THE PHONE OF CARL’S DRAWING AND STARES AT IT SOLEMNLY. CATASTROPHIC THOUGHTS ARE FORMING EXPONENTIALLY LITTLE TUMBLR PEOLLE 😭😭😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹😔😔😔😔 i can’t do this anymore no more please. i cried so hard last episode i’m tired brother
that brief scene of rick wanting to bring a gift home for rj. that’s his baby. michonne saying that he’s the brave man, and that just him coming home to them was enough. i need like three days to process this episode it was SOOOOO SOFT
“tasteful noods?” they’re idiots but they’re my idiots. i am also an idiot because just before she said that, i paused the show and read the truck and laughed out loud at the brand. i swear we’re so tethered. michonne and trips, sisters in another universe <3
im not going to sugarcoat anything. idgaf about jadis’s death. in fact, i am celebrating!!!!! will byers is NO MÁS good damn riddance.
ALSO HELLO GABRIEL? i was quite comforted to see a member of the group. those random meetups with haircut were interesting to say the least, especially the kiss because ummm was he not still dating rosita? idk idc i can’t keep up with the timelines anymore it’s not that serious unless it’s rick and michonne
also thank you GABRIEL for the wedding ring, and thanks jadis for giving it to rick. haircut was good for something in the end i guess. doesn’t matter what her ending was, i didn’t feel any reconciliation or compassion. she’s still a piece of shit who stole a great portion of rick’s life from himself and his entire family. burn in the hottest depths of hell. xo!
WAS THAT A PAINTING OF GLENN IN JADIS’S FLASHBACK? IF SO HOW AND WHY IM GENUINELY CONFUSED SOMEONE PLEASE REPLY OR DM ME ASAP
the callback to 6x10?!?!?? spearmint and baking soda?!?! I WAS IN LOVE WITH MY SONS BEST FRIEND!!!!!!!???????? danai and andy took the little richonne file in my brain and STUDIED it to make sure that they filmed every scene that i’ve ever wanted to happen to them. no source just trust me they did it
RICK GIVING MICH A BRAND NEW “M” NECKLACE OHHHHH 😔😔🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 THEYRE SO LOVEBUG. LIKE WOAH OKAY TROY AND GABRIELLA 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭❤️‍🩹 she deserves it so much! and then their kiss inside of the cabin afterwards, and them falling back onto the bed urgsjdvajdbabbs cutie pies!!!!!!!!!!!
every jadis scene pissed me off, so I won’t go into detail too much. you guys know how much i hate her. anyway, michonne using the axe to slice jadis like a cold cut… mother. love her. ALSO her rage when speaking about haircut too, yeah that was the perfect amount of dialogue that i wanted to see from her. her stealing rick’s time of seeing rj’s birth, first steps, etc. UGH. so excellent, you could feel her burning anger in her voice.
all of these callbacks throughout the episode but the best, most important and evident one was the mere fact that they’re a team again. kicking ass, and simply leading each other because that’s what they’re the best at. before any of their romance began, they were trusted confidants who worked so well side by side, and in this episode we got to see and feel the satisfaction and elation of having that back again!!!!!
i felt like i was at a drive thru restaurant ordering the entire episode. can i get some flirting, with a side of ass kicking, and ummm let me get a side of poetic, confessional yearning from rick grimes. yeah, that’ll be all.
rick telling gabriel that he wanted to marry michonne on the bridge. 🥺……. 😡 AND THEN EVERYTHING GOES TO SHIT AFTERWARDS. IMAGINE THE WORLD IF JADIS NEVER KIDNAPPED HIM. THEY WOULD HAVE FOUND HIM EVENTUALLY LIKE HE WAS RIGHT UP THE STREET?? oof — i cannot. we waited so long to hear this admirable dialogue but at what cost. it’s so sad, but at least we’re here now as michonne would say!!!!!
okay. ❤️‍🩹 there’s still so much to unpack but that’s enough out of me for the moment. brain’s still scrambled eggs. last but not least, michonne grimes is the hottest character ever. THE BOXERS?! she looked fucking amazing in every single outfit. if i were rick, i’d be kissing every inch of her neck too HELLO
don’t forget to stream the ones who live episode FIVE 5️⃣ on amc+ and don’t forget to watch it tonight on amc’s channel at 9pm!!!! ❤️‍🔥 so stoked for episode 6. it’s going to be the best one ever. it’s so hard to rank them at this point and i don’t want to either. every episode is better than the last! REAL TELEVISION IS BACK. 🫶🏼❤️‍🔥
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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year
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Built For Love Part 1 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)
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A/N: So this is the official series for MBJ x Charlotte (Famous Black OC) - this will include random moments in their relationship to see how they got to where they are… and I'll do random one-shots like I've been doing in between. Hope you enjoy :)
Word count: 3k
***
“Aye yo, Els! Charlotte!” 
Charlotte whipped around as she walked toward her car on set, finding Michael jogging up to her. The neutral expression on her face curled into a bright smile as he approached her. 
“Did you just call me Els?” She raised her eyebrow. She really only went by one nickname in her life: Charlie and that was reserved for family and friends. She certainly never went by her dreaded middle name, Elsbeth. She despised it, a gift from her absentee mother - whoever met a black girl named Elsbeth? Or any girl for that matter? 
“Yea… your middle name is Elsbeth right? Els for short?” 
She chuckled. “How’d you know that though? And what if I don’t like nicknames?” 
He shrugged and winked at her, causing her to blush a bit. “I’d never reveal my sources. And well… I figured you might make an exception for me?” 
Despite the look of faux annoyance on her face, she could not deny that the nickname had a certain allure on his lips. Well… a lot of things did if you asked her. 
She laughed, playing along with their flirtatious banter for a moment. “Yea… maybe. I might need some more convincing though, Mr. Jordan.” 
“Well let me start now. Let me take you to dinner? A congrats on finishing a long week on set.” 
Charlotte immediately shook her head, laughing nervously. “Thank you but I probably shouldn’t? Need to head home and start reviewing my lines for next week a-and everything.”
She actually did not have many lines to review at all. However, as luck should have it, she and Michael would be filming their intimate scene during the next week. And though Charlotte did not want to show it, it made her anxiety skyrocket. So her vision for the evening was to merely sit at home with a glass of wine and wallow in her anxieties about the upcoming week. But she could not tell Michael that. 
She also would not hate the time to just decompress. Though she had been acting since she graduated from Juilliard, somehow this terrain felt different and more exhausting. She had only done her first tv role a few months before signing on to play Bianca. 
He shook his head. “Come onnnn… You’re gonna be great next week and every day. You’re a natural. You gotta eat dinner right? And I won’t keep you out too late. Promise.”
She wrestled with her internal debate for a few moments. Common sense said she should say no. However, the side of her that was drawn to Michael like a moth to a flame, the side she did not quite understand, was much louder. 
“Fineeeeee… but only because I’m starving,” she added with a playful wink. 
A bright boyish grin took over his features as he led her to his car. Their car ride was filled with lively conversation as they recapped the day on set. She had only known Michael for a few months, had only spent considerable time with him in the last two weeks but something about him put her at ease with every conversation. Since their chemistry test, their banter was effortless and, she will admit, flirtatious but she did not think anything of the latter. Ryan told her that her co-star was a charmer… on screen and off. So she assumed that was just par for the course with him and nothing more. Her character was meant to fall in love with his but she knew they could not. 
But still, it did not stop them from gravitating toward each other all day on set or hanging out in each other’ trailers. Though theirs could never step outside of the bounds of friendship, Charlotte appreciated his commitment to developing a relationship with her outside of their characters. She felt it made their chemistry on screen even stronger. 
Soon, she found herself sitting across from Michael at a back corner booth of a steakhouse. It was late so there were few patrons in the space besides them, allowing both of them to feel more at ease about being in public. Charlotte knew no one would recognize her but Michael had been acting since he was a kid. And last thing she needed was rumors on the internet about them tomorrow. 
“So you've seen me work for a couple weeks, it's my first movie - got any tips for me, super star?” She asked after the waiter dropped off their drinks and took their order. 
He scoffed playfully. “As if you need tips from me.” 
“Why’d you say that?” 
He shrugged, taking a sip of his whisky neat. “You’re almost too good. I've been tryin’ to keep up with you.” 
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she waved her hand to dismiss his compliment. 
He shook his head. “Nah… haven’t found another girl like you out here.” 
Charlotte looked away from him, his smolder overwhelming. She let out a nervous chuckle before leaving his statement to linger without a response. This is always were the she lost her nerve. Occasionally, he would utter something that made her think their banter was more intentional than she originally assumed. However, she never had the nerve to press it and see if that were true. There was not a world in which someone like him wanted to be with her. And she did not believe in setting herself up for rejection. 
Instead, she simply shook her head and offered him a small grin. “I imagine there are plenty of girls better than me out there.” 
Michael sighed. “I doubt it. So did you always want to act or?” 
Charlotte nodded and sat up a bit straighter, leaning on the table as she spoke. Michael could not help how her face lit up slightly when asked about her work. 
“Y-yea, ever since I saw Audra McDonald in Ragtime when I was younger… My family will tell you I had a flair for the dramatic longggg before then and I did school plays and stuff like that throughout middle and high school. But that was the moment that made me see it as a career, you know? A real possibility for my life. Went to Julliard and then started working on Broadway. I thought I’d do that for the rest of my life… you know musicals and plays. I wanted to be just like her.” Michael noticed how the ghost of a smile on her face as she remembered a past life turned into a frown, her eyes filling with longing and sorrow. “Life just took some unexpected turns when I… h-had to leave New York and move to LA so I switched to tv and movies but acting was always the plan.” 
Michael nodded along as she spoke, quietly noticing her chose of hers. “Had to leave New York,” as if something forced her out. He made a mental note to find out the true story behind that one of these days. 
She paused. “That or owning an ice cream shop.” 
He let out a hearty laugh as her last statement caught him off guard. “An ice cream shop was your back up plan?” 
“Of course. 1. There’s always a market - who doesn’t love ice cream? 2. No one is ever angry in an ice cream shop because it’s amazing. Perfect job honestly.” 
“Can’t argue with that logic. What’s your dream role?” 
“Elphaba… from Wicked,” she answered immediately. For her, there was no other role. “It won’t get me a Tony,” she admitted. “But it’s always been the dream.” 
“Why?” 
“I dunno… the character herself is perfectly written. So layered. And her songs are perfection. That show is a true masterpiece and it’s one of the biggest shows in the world.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately… under that green skin, the actresses don’t look like me. But that just makes me want it more.” She glanced up at him and noticed the way he was staring at her, immediately feeling self-conscious. She coughed and sat back. “S-sorry… here I am just going on and on about myself.” 
“Nah, nah you good. I asked and I like hearing about you.”
She raised her eyebrow in suspicion. “Really?” 
“Yea… what? You don’t like to talk about yourself?” 
“Ehh, nah, not really. Don’t want to bore you.” 
“I don’t think that’s a word I’d ever use to describe you.” 
Charlotte blushed, her nervousness forcing her eyes away from him and onto a painting across the dim dining room. She did not understand how or why he had this effect on her. But whatever he was doing, she did not want him to stop. 
“How’d you feel after today?” He asked, referencing their scene choreography session from earlier. "Ready for next week? I know those scenes are fucking awkward as hell.” 
“Ummm… y-yea yea totally ready,” she muttered, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit in to it lightly. 
“You nervous?” 
How did he fucking know that?
“What? No, why’d you say that?” 
He leaned forward, a curious expression painted on his face that Charlotte hated that she could not read. “You bite your lip when you’re nervous… o-or anxious I think? You were doing it when we met for our chemistry test… and on the first day of our table read. Right before our scenes all week. Today during our session.”
Charlotte tensed slightly, curious of how he noticed such a subtle tick, something that she thought she was doing a better job of hiding it from everyone. Her eyes fell from his to the table, frustration coursing through her at her own emotions, emotions she wished she had better control over. 
“You are hella observant,” she muttered under her breath as she fiddled with her napkin.
“I’m your scene partner… my job is to know you. And aint shit to be ashamed of. I get anxious too… a lot,” he admitted. 
“Really? You’ve been acting your whole life.” 
He chuckled, his finger drawing patterns in the condensation of his glass. “Yea and shit is still hard. I still doubt myself… still get nervous and shit that I won’t do well o-or will let people down. It helps to talk about it though.” He eyed her for a moment and then asked, “So what makes you nervous about it?” 
Charlotte studied him for a moment, her brain churning to figure out if she wanted to share her deep anxieties with him. It had been so long since she had been vulnerable with someone or confined about her anxieties with someone. She always feared their judgement and pity. And even though she did not know Michael that well, for some reason, she feared his judgement and pity more than anyone else. She could not understand why it mattered so much to her but she wanted him to see her as strong and assured, everything she was not really but tried to put on for the world. She wanted him to like the facade because who she really was did not seem worth his time. 
However, the part of her that craved vulnerability and a safe place to land freed and propelled the words from their cage in the depths of her soul. Something about him felt… safe. And in that moment, the feeling of safety with him felt like relaxing in the warmth of the sun. She wanted to lean into it, not run away from it. Even if it was only between two friends, she craved it and just could not turn away a rare bit of warmth in her cold life. 
“Well…” she chuckled nervously. “I feel so fuckin’ lame saying this but… I’ve never done a sex scene before? A-and I g-guess I just feel more self-conscious than I should. I know it’s just like every other scene but it’s so intimate and,” she shrugged. “A-and there’s shit from the past coming back u-“ she turned and stopped herself, she was getting too real with him now. “I d-dunno. A-and I’m just self conscious about the amount of people who’ll be watching? Like that’s so weird, right? I-I just feel like I'm gonna look stupid. Saying it out loud makes me feel really dumb.” 
He chuckled, ‘Nah it’s not dumb and honestly, this shit is awkward as fuck. We just met two months ago and even though its hella choreographed, there’s a level of trust and intimacy we have to share to sell it. So I think if you’ve never done that shit before, it’s more daunting than people would think.” 
“Thanks for not making me feel stupid about it. That does make me feel better.” 
“Never. Look, my job is also to make you feel as comfortable and safe as you can be in every scene but especially this one. We are gonna be as close as two coworkers can be, I wanna make sure you’re straight. So let me know what you need and I gotchu. I want you to trust me.”  
She smiled over the rim of her glass. 
“I do… trust you,” she responded definitively. And she was surprised at how deeply she felt that in her soul. 
“That’s what I like to hear.” 
***
“Cheers!” Michael offered as he and Charlotte clinked their wine glasses together, a half-empty bottle of red wine sitting on the coffee table of his living room. 
“What are we cheering too?” She asked as she took a sip of her wine. 
He shrugged. “I dunno… to movie set firsts? To finishing one of our hardest scenes?” 
“I like the sound of both of those! Cheers.” She took another sip before sitting her glass down and leaning back, her hand running through her faux locs she had installed for her character. “Thank you for today by the way. You made it super light a-and fun, shockingly.” 
He twisted his face up in faux offense. “Shockingly?? Ouch. I thought every moment with me was fun?” 
“You aight,” she winked at him before grabbing the bottle to refill her glass. “I was actually surprised at how few folks were on set also. The way Ryan talked when we first went over it, it seemed like the whole crew would be there.” 
At Michael’s silence, she eyed him suspiciously as he nodded and glanced off to the side, scratching the nape of his neck. 
“You know something about that?? Tell me!” 
“Alright fine, I wasn’t gonna tell you but I ain’t gon’ lie to you either. When you said you were nervous about people watching, I texted Ryan and asked him to close the set. I didn’t tell him you asked o-or were anxious about it,” he clarified as he watched the heat rise in her cheeks from embarrassment. “I j-just reminded him that it was your first time on a movie set a-and we shouldn’t assume you’ve done a scene like that before. I hope that’s ok? I’m sorry if I overstepped. Just wanted you to feel more comfortable.” 
Charlotte tilted her head as she studied him for a moment. Part of her thought she should be mad at him for making requests on her behalf but she wasn’t? She found the action maddeningly kind and endearing if anything. That he took her words to heart and actually tried to help her be more comfortable. That he was silently working behind the scenes to make her feel safe.
Michael took her silence for anger. “You’re upset. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I over-“ 
“N-no. Don’t apologize!” She let out a breathy chuckle before adding. “I’m not upset. It just…that just might be the sweetest thing a fellow actor has ever done for me.” She leaned over and squeezed his hand, the heat from his body warming her hand. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 
He turned his hand over in hers and squeezed back, offering her a nod and smile. Charlotte’s eyes fell from his down to their connected fingers, heat rising in her at the simple touch. She felt it every time, even among the most innocent of touches, pure desire and electricity. Her mind drifted back to feeling his hands on her body earlier that day. The palms of his hands was rough and callous but today proved that his touch was anything but. It was strong and gentle. And she knew it was wrong but she left set today craving more of it, yearning for more of him.
Something in her snapped back to reality, forcing her to rip her hand from his quickly. She cleared her throat and busied herself with her glass of wine. 
“A-anytime,” he offered quietly, seeming equally as frazzled by their touch as she was. 
“I-I should head back to my apartment,” she whispered, deciding it was best to remove herself from his presence before she drank anymore wine and lost anymore of her sensibilities, which felt as if they were hanging on by a thread as it was. “T-Thanks for the wine.” 
“I’ll walk you out.” He stood and stretched lightly before walking her to his door. 
She slid on her shoes as he grabbed her coat from his closet. 
“Thank you again for today, seriously. You are the best scene partner a girl could ask for.” 
He closed the gap between them and wrapped her in a tight welcomed hug. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as his hugged around her waist. She knew this was the exact type of touching she was leaving to avoid. But for the briefest moment, she remembered what it was like to have intimacy with someone else, to feel secure and whole in their arms. 
They both lingered in their soft touches for longer than they should have. Charlotte let out a content sigh as he rubbed soothing circles on her back and held her, her forehead falling gently against his chest. 
She was the first to break their sweet, hidden moment, the high tide of longing in her building to places too strong to be contained. She couldn’t allow herself to fall any deeper into this - whatever it was - for a million different reasons. He would never reciprocate it and she would never deserve it if he did. Why bait misery? 
She lifted her head from his chest to stare at him, his grip around her body didn’t loosen or move. They just stared at each other. Before Charlotte could say a word, his lips were on hers. She didn’t return it at first, her whole body paralyzed from shock. But it only took a few seconds for her to return it fervently. 
There was a small arch in her back as their mouths explored each other for the first time. She could feel a cloud of desperation and need settling around them. She had kissed him before, however, this - without the mechanics of acting guiding them - felt entirely different. This was pure bliss, his lips casting a fog over her brain that stopped the formation of any thought unrelated to the man in front of her. His tongue danced with hers as they moaned lightly into each other’s mouths. She never wanted this moment to end. 
But it did. He leaned back briefly, a need for air overcoming his desire to consume the woman in front of him. He wanted all of her for the rest of his life. Michael had kissed many women in his life but none had ever felt like that before. He had tried his hardest to keep his feelings at bay, to give her space and not push. When he realized he wanted to pursue a real relationship with Charlotte, he vowed to wait until filming concluded so she would not feel obligated or pressured to date him. He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. And some moments, he felt it so strongly and in others, he felt her pull away from him, causing him to doubt himself.
But the more moments he spent with the woman in his arms, the harder it was to keep those feelings at bay. Every moment with her was kindling to this fire and tonight was proof that it would only grow out of control if they did not finally choose to acknowledge that it was there.
With the brief reprieve to catch her breath, Charlotte’s desires quickly faded into embarrassment. 
What the fuck did you just do?
“U-um I’m sorry, s-so sorry, Michael,” she whispered as she took a step back from him, his arms releasing her from his web. She avoided his eyes as she grabbed her coat from the floor where it fell. Suddenly, the plain white walls of the front hallway in his temporary apartment seemed far more interesting than the shell-shocked man in front of her. “D-don’t know what came over me. I-I should go.” 
She quickly walked around his body and out the door, leaving him paralyzed and confused in his doorway. And by the time he regained his wits about him, she was gone. 
Charlotte slid into her car and let her head fall onto her steering wheel with a wave of shame and embarrassment. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Charlie??” She whispered to herself while one silent question oscillated through her mind: Why couldn’t things ever be easy? 
Part 2
Taglist: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld
A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a comment with your thoughts and let me know if you want to be tagged!
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kidvoodoo · 4 days
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Okay I am caught up on the situation and am much calmer now. I do not forgive the three people who sent me anonymous death threats. I have an idea who at least one is and have blocked them since it is the only thing I can really do.
As for my thoughts:
I have mentioned before that I do not watch Eurovision this year and have only seen acts from last year, not the program in its entirety. I was unaware of what was occurring and was attacked in my inbox because I have posted Käärijä fan art. The art in question was several days before the event even happened.
That being said, I will not remove my artwork from my blog. It is my Art Gallery and the collection of my many pieces throughout the year. I will not be bullied to take it down.
I will continue to make fan art.
I do not approve of what Kä has done in regards to the Eurovision 2024 contest. I understand why he did attend and also why he made an Instagram post saying he was done with Eurovision. I don’t think he should have attended but it’s too late to take that back, unfortunately.
I think it was good he said “no war” at the end of his performance for the final (semifinal?). I think a lot of people wanted him say more, in the few moments he was able to say something, that is what came out. If he had tried to say more they would have cut the feed away from him, and they clearly are mad that he even did that because they won’t post the performance. They have done the same thing with another performer who had a symbol of Palestine Support with him. It is clear that the people who run the show are not good people for silencing people showing their support for a nation under attack. It is hypocritical they have acted supportive of Ukraine in the midst of the war but not with Palestine during the genocide. Was it enough of a statement? I don’t think so. Was it all he was able to manage that exact moment? I think so.
In regards to the video of Kä and the Israeli performer, it was bad that he did that. I don’t think it was entirely a mistake, nor do I think it was intentional. I think again in the moment he simply wasn’t thinking correctly. I don’t forgive him for that, and the statement he made on Instagram was not very good. If it was true he asked for the video to be removed and it wasn’t, that is bad too. It never should have happened and it’s a sad situation.
All of that brings me to my conclusion. I am sad and disappointed. I am also very aware of how bad of a situation it is now thanks to some kind people filling me in and providing sources. Thank you my friends 💜
I will take a break I think, let things evolve how they will. My brother and I have donated a sum $400 US dollars to UNICEF USA for aid for children. In a country where my very tax dollars are used to fund a genocide, it feels like a sad drop in a bucket, but it is all I can manage being on fixed income and disabled. I will attempt to do another donation at some point when I have the money.
I feel like this situation is bad in every direction. I personally still want to listen to Käärijä’s music and draw pictures. I want to read people’s fanfics and see their posts too. I am brought happiness by the kind people and by Käärijä as well, so I will continue to enjoy.
I hope that Käärijä does address the situation at some point in a more supportive and thoughtful way. I wonder how much he will have to do to gain back people’s trust. Sometimes it’s best to just let go, even if it’s hard.
If you are reading this and do not approve of my personal opinion, please do not send me death threats or harassments. I understand if you want to unfollow and block me, and I have no quarrel with you.
If you are reading this and are one of the people who has sent me kind messages and do not approve of my decision, i understand and apologize. Please do not send me hate messages or harassments.
If you are one of the people who has sent me kind messages and still wants to be friends, I am happy to hear that 💜 maybe we can all try and start a donation campaign together for more aid for Palestine. I know money is a difficult thing these days for a lot of people so please don’t feel guilty for not having g any to give.
I am sorry this is a very long post and if I am taking up too much space in the Käärijä tag, I simply wanted to address my feelings about the entire situation.
Thank you friends for reading, I hope your mind and hearts can heal and you can find joy in whatever you love again 💜💜💜
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odinsblog · 2 months
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i know russians hate putin who runied their county like trump
[re: this post]
I have absolutely no doubt whatsoever that wherever there are sham elections, there will always people who do not like it, and a brave few will stand up and resist.
For example, if you search social media for something like “Russia sham election,” you’ll see videos like this:
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I fucking love watching these. They showed up and did the damn civil disobedience thang.
And if you search for “Russian fuckery” or “disappearing ink,” you’ll find gems like this, where voters were generously supplied with pens to complete their ballots, but the ink wasn’t permanent and could be easily burned away with a bic lighter. (source) (source)
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So yeah, people had every right to be pissed and resist Russia’s sham elections.
A lot of Russian dissidents and Ukrainian citizens in occupied Crimea and Mariupol risked their freedom to protest Putin’s sham election. They quite literally risked everything, and many of them have already been jailed.
So yes, you’re right; I know that there are people who do not like it, and a brave few who will stand up and resist Putin.
BUT … it’s quite impossible to take a full or accurate accounting of how Russian citizens inside of Russia feel, because, 1) Putin and the Kremlin control the media outlets, and journalists are routinely murdered by the Kremlin in Russia, so we won’t ever get a true picture, and 2) dissidents know that they will be harshly penalized (shot, jailed, poisoned, defenestrated, etc) for publicly voicing any serious or prolonged anti-Putin sentiments.
And there are also Russians who are against Putin, but who are not against Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.
Unfortunately there are quite a few Russians, like the woman in the video below, who aren’t even in Russia, but who have very clearly chugged the kool-aide and fully believe Putin’s propaganda and disinformation.
SN: No, Crimea/Ukraine was not in NATO, nor was Ukraine even applying for NATO membership when Putin invaded—that is a propagandistic LIE that tankies have stupidly bought into. (source) (source) (source) (source)
So yeah, it continues to worry me that some Russians outside of Putin’s distortion bubble still believe his lies. Again, I know that there are also many Russians who vehemently reject Putin’s lies …. I just don’t know if it’s a sizable majority, or a tiny but vocal minority. My guess is that anti-Putin citizens living in Russia are, unfortunately, a minority.
And this isn’t me dunking on Russian civilians. I live in America. We have similar divisions about countries that our government has invaded. So yeah, I’m in the U.S. and I am also dealing with the exact same flavor of willfully gullible miscreants, who believe anything Trump tells them, and I’ll have to wait until after our general election to see if they are a majority here.
A quick aside, but in the original post, I said I’d be watching to see how tankies addressed the OBVIOUSLY fake sham elections that Putin legitimately “won,” and it’s pretty much what I expected - tankies crawling out of the woodwork to announce that any evidence of coercive tactics was itself fake, or CIA propaganda (filmed in Russia! no less). But I gotta admit that I was lowkey surprised that the usual tankies on tumblr were uncharacteristically on mute. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anyway, Idk where you are, anon, but if you’re in Ukraine or anywhere in the Baltic states or Eastern Europe, please be careful and stay safe. 🫡
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ueasking · 1 year
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Decided to turn my late-night ramblings on Starstruck into an actual post for the three people who might be interested in a little bit more of Yoojae's characterization in the source material. Yoojae reacted poorly to Hanjoon's confession, to say the least, but the novel gives much more insight into why Yoojae reacted the way that he did.
Now the show didn't really explain how Yoojae found out where Hanjoon lived, but in the novel, Yoojae goes to see Hanjoon at his old home the day before the college entrance exam to give him something, only to be told by the landlord that Hanjoon and his mom moved out ages ago. The next day, after the college entrance exam, Yoojae goes to see the owner of the boxing club, who has been feeding Hanjoon meals because he doesn't have enough money for his meals. It is the boxing club owner who fills Yoojae in about Hanjoon's current predicament.
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After Yoojae says, "Don't try to preserve your dignity in front of me," to Hanjoon, he also says the following:
Throughout high school, I often went to school hungry, so you invited me to your home to eat. This happened countless times. Why did you do so? Wasn't it because we're friends? So why can't I do the same for you? Why is it that I am allowed to rely on you, but you can't rely on me? If things are difficult, just say so. What's so difficult about that?
Both of them grew up in poverty in the same neighborhood so neither are strangers to not having enough money to buy food. However, while Yoojae's family has made a small fortune and moved into an apartment in a fancier neighborhood, Hanjoon and his mom have been kicked out of their home. Nevertheless, having been through similar situations himself, Yoojae is painfully aware of what it's like to be so poor as to go without meals, as well as not wanting to be seen as a charity case and pitied by others. Thus, after Yoojae's family escapes poverty, Yoojae treats Hanjoon the same as he always has, save for small things like occasionally buying a few snacks and offering to pay for Hanjoon at the comic cafe. Yoojae did not want to tell Hanjoon about his family's newfound wealth on account of Hanjoon's family's finances. Especially after witnessing his parents show off to everyone, Yoojae had no desire at all to show off or even tell others about his family's wealth. As for Hanjoon, he did not want to be a downer about his own situation in the face of Yoojae's "good fortune."
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Both of them do what they think is in the other's best interests, but they still struggle to understand where the other is coming from. Moreover, a lot of Yoojae's thoughts and experiences on love and relationships seem to reflect what he has witnessed from his parents, who constantly fight and blame one another. At times, they also force him to take sides. Therefore, it's no wonder that he has such a warped view of love and relationship. And this isn't even taking into account the internalized homophobia that others have mentioned as well.
Hanjoon loves Yoojae so much, and has loved him for so long, that he takes the opportunity to express his love to Yoojae through an expensive heart-shaped box of chocolates, under the pretense of wishing Yoojae good luck on the college entrance exam. We see how happy Hanjoon is to buy the box of chocolates and give them to Yoojae, and then how crushed he is when Yoojae throws it on the floor. But all Yoojae sees is that Hanjoon spent money he doesn't have on the fancy chocolates.
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Yoojae reacted poorly, there's no question about that. However, I do think that the rest of the dialogue, which was cut from the show episode 4, gives more insight into what was going on in Yoojae’s mind at the time. [edit: portions of this dialogue were in episode 5]
Are you threatening me?
Are you saying that if I don’t go out with you, I won’t be able to see you ever again? How could you say something like that to me?
You must have known that there was no way that I would ever agree to something as ridiculous as that. So why did you say it to me? Are you really going to never see me again? Are you really going to give me up just for that sort of reason?
Contact me once you’ve sorted out your feelings.
My interpretation is that Yoojae viewed Hanjoon's confession as emotional blackmail of some kind, which coupled with his own confusion regarding his feelings toward Hanjoon, led him to react even more strongly. All this is to say that yes, Yoojae was behaving like an immature teenager, but his life experiences shaped him to be that imperfect person, and he wasn't simply being a jerk just for the hell of it.
That's all I have to say about Starstruck for now and if you're still reading this, thank you for reading my word vomit💕
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