#anyways hope this makes sense and that i'm not going on about nothing

[roguelioness]

I'm back with my tin foil hat on, spoilers beneath the cut-

So the two creatures rising up at the end of the gameplay trailer - I suspect it's Ghila'nain and Elgar'nan, and here's why I think so (this is just speculation!)

(I tried to get the best closeups I could!)

You can see the two beings rising up here:

The figure on the left is, i suspect, Ghila'nain

From The Horror of Hormak it's implied Ghila'nain had an interest in creatures with many limbs. the figure has several appendages in addition to the normal pair of arms.

It's interesting that the face is entirely hidden - or, at the very least, that mask is covering the eyes, because Ghila'nain's story involves losing them-

From the codex entry for Ghila'nain:

Ghilan'nain followed the hunter, and when they were away from all of her sisters, the hunter turned on Ghilan'nain. He blinded her first, and then bound her as one would bind a kill fresh from the hunt.

If she doesn't have eyes, it makes sense that she would cover them up. There's also her mosaic from the Temple of Mythal that could be taken as extra appendages:

(granted the mosaic in its entirety had those as part of halla horns, but... why are they covered in the same material as the face?) I think - going off of HoH - she was at one point Andruil's priestess, and at some point of time (perhaps when Andruil went hunting into the void) discovered the weird green lyrium which she then used to conduct her terrifying experiments. And because of that ability, she was granted ascension. Whether or not she transformed herself into that creature pre- or post-ascension is something I hope we'll learn (was it done deliberately? or was it a side effect? so many questions!)

Now my reasoning for this being Elgar'nan is a bit shakier; the first thing that made me go hmmm was a line from the Dragon Age Day trailer:

"All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign."

That to me reads like Head-of-the-Pantheon kind of speech (I told you my reasoning was shaky lol)

But the other thing that has my raising my eyebrows is, well, Flemythal. The Chasind know Flemeth as Mother of Vengeance, and Elgar'nan is considered to be the god of vengeance (and Mythal's husband). Flemeth's speech about Mythal - "she was betrayed, as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed" I thought referred to the veil's creation, but I'm beginning to wonder if it was a reference to Elgarn'an, seeing as he (along with Mythal) were supposed to have remade the world (from the codex entry for Mythal). If Elgar'nan took part in her murder, it could be seen as him (metaphorically) betraying the world. The other thing that caught my eye was his mosaic from Temple of Mythal:

The figure in the mosaic has two curves going outward from the shoulder region, which matches the armor the figure in the trailer is wearing. Granted this could mean nothing, seeing as how Flemeth's attire (specifically her hair) more resembles the mosaic for Mythal's dragon form than Mythal herself, but considering none of the other mosaics had anything similar to this makes me think Elgar'nan is the likeliest candidate.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk :D

[curtain-caller]

The Parallels Between Korsica and Roquefort

So, when I was setting up my plans for Fly-High Rush, things were a bit one-sided in terms of group numbers, so instead of keeping Korsica the same, I decided to swap her and Roquefort. I figured they were similar enough to make a switch work.

But then I realized they were... really similar. Like, very, very similar. The comparisons just kept coming and they didn't stop.

So here we are. Welcome to my Ted Talk.

1. WIND ATTACKS:

Let's get one of the bigger comparison out of the way: both of them fight with wind. Korsica uses it all the time, from turning off generators to putting out fires to kicking Chai's ass. Then there's Roquefort, who throws out little tornadoes during his fight and tries to send Chai flying with his Big Bad Wolf attack several times. That move also requires Korsica specifically to hold it back with her own wind gust. Yeah, not much to say here.

2. Connection to a Vandelay Sibling:

See, this is the point that really got the gears turning in my head. Both of them have a close connection to a Vandelay sibling who saved their lives: Roquefort to Kale, and Korsica to Peppermint.

"I was on my deathbed when Kale saved me. I was smart, but weak. He fixed that." - Roquefort

"Your wound was really bad...We didn't have a choice." - Peppermint "You... saved my life." - Korsica

Not to say Peppermint saved Korsica single-handedly (shout out to Mac and CNMN, the true mvps), but then again, I doubt Kale painstakingly upgraded Roquefort's body piece by piece on his own, so my point still stands. Both Vandelay siblings had a hand in saving their lives respectively, and because of that, you can see the bonds formed between these two duos.

Peppermint tries to be welcoming and reassuring to Korsica when she first comes to after Kale's murder attempt, and Korsica returns that reassurance later on in Mimosa's level. She hasn't even been with the gang for a full mission yet, is probably still getting used to these changes, and she still tries to comfort Peppermint, especially during her "Kale's my brother" reveal.

Not to mention, during the optional conversations in Roquefort's office before you face Kale, Korsica's dialogue is slightly different in terms of topic. Everyone has something to say regarding their own specific character arcs and motivations, but part of Korsica's dialogue is specifically her worrying about Peppermint.

"But I'm a bit worried about Peppermint. This is personal for her." - Korsica "After all we've been through, it might not be easy... but I think she can handle it." - Chai "You might be right about that, but we need to be there for her when she needs it." - Korsica

Now going back to Kale and Roquefort, while their interactions are brief, you can tell that both of them have at least some respect for each other, which is a hell of a lot more than they give to most of the other Department Heads. Especially Kale.

"Zanzo, Stop. Just stop. Even you jumped the shark on this one. IN THE EYE? What the shit?" - Kale to Zanzo (via SPECTRA Hub vlog) "Only one of of four, Korsica? That's not a passing grade." - Kale to Korsica "It better! No slip-ups! And no defects." - Kale to Mimosa and Rekka Versus...

"Why not? I want to see just how angry you can get, if those punks make it in here." - Kale to Roquefort Sure, Kale still lashes out at him, he's not nice all of a sudden, but it feels like such a massive difference. Kale questions why he ever hired Zanzo, he tried to straight up KILL Korsica, and he's harsh enough to Mimosa and Rekka to the point that they flinch. Hell, REKKA of all people flinches twice. But here? Kale trusts Roquefort to handle things, even if he is a bit dismissive with the "you're just a number cruncher" line.

And on the other side of things, Roquefort is not only loyal to Kale, but surprisingly calm and casual around him. Casual enough to correct him and talk back.

"We...shut down the cafe." - Roquefort "When I said close the campus down, I didn't mean THE CAFE!" - Kale "You said close down everything." - Roquefort

The casual tone of voice is palpable. I genuinely think that's the least angry we see Roquefort, except maybe during the Boss Zoom meeting.

And if you want to go the shipping route, yes, shout out to my lesbians, not much to prove there, but... Hey Kale, do you want to explain why you, a confirmed dog person, gave Roquefort a robotic wolf fursuit? YOU WANNA EXPLAIN THAT??? HUH???

3. Similar Personalities:

They're cold, they're direct, and they're aggressive, and despite their rare goofy moments, I feel comfortable saying they're the most serious of the Department Heads.

Excluding the visual aspects (because this point would be null and void thanks to Roquefort fursuit), these two are by far the least hammy of the bosses. Unlike the others, who provide witty banter, plenty of cheesy lines and over-dramatic reactions, the dialogue for these two is rarely comedic or high-energy.

Here's some examples for comparison:

"I like defects. I like how they taste." - QA-1MIL

"So let's get ready to crumble!" - Rekka

Do I even need an example for Zanzo?

"Let's raise the stakes, and turn down the lights!" - Mimosa

"You've had a few hits, but I think it's time we break up the band." - Kale

Compare that to...

"Caught you off guard." - Korsica "I'll make sure you stay down this time!" - Korsica "You cocky LOSER!" - Korsica

"You sure made an entrance, lad. If you've come for me... I'd walk away." - Roquefort "Where's your confidence now, kid?" - Roquefort "I put my stock in futures, but not yours, kid." - Roquefort

The other bosses are willing to taunt and even go along with Chai's goofiness, but these two? Oh, they don't have much time for that. They barely hesitate, and are not holding back in the slightest. Korsica fucking yeets him down a slope, puts him in a headlock, knocks him out, does whatever she can to hold him back from getting to her office, and only pauses briefly to gaze upon his stupidity before whipping her batons out when he busts in. Even after she gets knocked out and sustains, like, 3 different flavors of concussion(5 if you count Chai and the vent hitting her), she gets RIGHT BACK UP! In a way, Roquefort is a bit more lenient, letting Chai into his office once he gets that far... but the "I'm not fucking around" energy is still there. He's like "Oh, you're really that determined? I respect it. Come at me, kid, I'm not fucking scared." And then he proceeds to back that up. He doesn't even bother attacking Chai with his regular form at first (or at all, frankly), he goes from 0 to 100 and refuses to fall somewhere in the middle. And finally, there's one similarity between them personality-wise that gets its own section, that being how...

4. They're Fueled by Anger:

Basically every boss is aggressive in some way, throwing all kinds of things at Chai as he consistently grinds their 30 day chips from anger management to dust, but here's the thing... When I say "fueled by anger", I mean health-wise. These two heal themselves on-screen because of their anger. With Roquefort, this is pretty well established. He constantly says that all Chai is doing is making him angrier, and that so long as he's mad, he won't be stopped, to the point that thousands of pounds of gold getting the drop on him was the only thing that could take him down. During the verse/phase changes, you can see his health bar quickly refill itself each time, and his wolf form model viewer description wraps this all up in a nice, neat little bow with this line: "Powered by Roquefort's own anger, attacking it will only make it more aggressive and powerful." Now, getting to Korsica... I'll only say this one thing. Can we just acknowledge she went from THIS:

TO THIS:

ALL BECAUSE CHAI CALLED HER OBLIVIOUS??? SHE'S OUT FOR BLOOD, SHE WANTS THAT TWINK OBLITERATED. "That's it! Now I'm mad!" - Korsica Anger Management? More like Angry Management, am I right?

5. Chai is Out of his Element:

*Holds Chai up by the scarf* Get his ass, you two (I say this affectionately)

Yeah, Chai is severely out of his element with both of them. These two fights are especially humbling for him, albeit for opposite reasons. Korsica is the one boss Chai can't just run in and beat the crap out of, so we see him struggle a lot as he constantly rolls nat 1s on charisma. He and the gang go through, like, three different plans in the span of the whole boss fight; first going with Peppermint's plan to state the facts and stay cool, followed by Chai's plan of trying to tire her out until she's willing to listen, and finally ending with "Fuck it, let's just kidnap her, we'll work on a plan D later". And to top it all off, Korsica throws an entire new addition to the parry mechanic at Chai in the middle of all of this, and he just has to keep rolling with it. For Roquefort's fight, I think it's pretty clear that Chai is TERRIFIED of him. He goes in all cocky and confident, thinking Roquefort's a pushover, and gets humbled QUICK when Roquefort reveals his true nature. You only very briefly see his confident attitude resurface during this fight, like when he knocks Roquefort through the glass pane to his money vault. Otherwise, he's either terrified or exhausted, especially at the end, gritting his teeth and getting ready to keep fighting because he has no other option. Not to mention the others are constantly reassuring and being protective of Chai during the fight via their call-in dialogue. Chai is straight up NOT having a good time. At least he got an unintentional nap after Korsica's fight, dude needs a rest after dealing with Roquefort. Where's SMIDGE when you need him, dude needs an energy drink, stat.

6. Boss Music:

Okay so I am NOT well-versed in musical vocabulary so like... bear with me on this. Hopefully this is coherent. Anyways, Negotiation and The Fizzith just... have the same vibe to me. Yes, I'm mostly focusing on The Fizzith, I believe in Streamer Mode Supremacy. First of all, I guess I can start off by saying that they're the only bosses with pure instrumentals for their tracks, with everyone else having lyrics in theirs. Second of all, both of their song formats just sound so... similar to me? Idk how to describe it, but like... They both start with a dramatic build up as they instill the fear of God in Chai, with Roquefort having that iconic classical music "DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUN" intro and Korsica having a shorter, but still just as powerful, build up as she jumps up and whips her batons out. This is then followed by, like, a slightly softer and steadier follow up as it proceeds with the rest of the intro cutscene, as Roquefort leaps over Chai and Korsica turns down Chai's offer to talk. Then the tension gradually grows as the fight goes on, with each phase adding another instrument or two to make things more intense. The Fizzith is already a lot more intense than Negotiation at the start, but you can still hear the build up with each phase for both. And then finally, there's a small "calm before the storm" section, aka where Chai almost talks Korsica down, and when Roquefort is amping up for his final Big Bad Wolf attack. Roquefort's goes back to a steady sort of beat for a moment, while Korsica's has that quiet clapping and softened tone. This is then followed by an intense, deep, high-energy climax as Korsica starts throwing everything she has at you, and as Roquefort sends this lengthy tornado sound-wave barrage at you. While this format is by no means an original one (hell, I noticed a lot of this in Mimosa's fight too), there's just something about their music that just... feels interconnected to me. Like, if I had to sit down and imagine any other boss having a parry-based boss fight like Korsica's, just going by their boss fight music, I'd go for Roquefort (with Mimosa as a close second). And genuinely, I have actually sat down and imagined it, and it's almost perfect. I'm connecting the two dots, motherfuckers (I'm not connecting shit) I'M CONNECTING THEM-

7. Control Over Security:

And with that, we're now arriving at the much smaller points that I don't have as much to discuss about. So I don't really need to say much about Korsica during this section, for obvious reasons. But as for Roquefort, he IS the one who takes over once Korsica's out of the picture and shit starts to hit the fan. "Kale, I prioritized shielding the tower. Reallocated the budget so not a bug will get in." - Roquefort And both of them are damn good at holding Chai and the others back. Korsica takes 3 whole stages to get to her, keeping you on your toes the whole time with lasers, brakes, and enemies galore. I imagine it would've been difficult as hell to get into the Security Department in the first place if Chai didn't get knocked out and held for questioning. And while his segment is pretty short, all things considered, Roquefort gives it his all to shield Vandelay Tower, locking it down so well that even the smartest members of the TEA-m are stumped. Chai's the only one with an idea, and even that had several hurdles. The second they started connecting to the cannon to launch Chai, security comes rushing in, and he probably would've gotten caged in if SMIDGE didn't unintentionally hold the door open for him. Let's also not forget the big-screened wanted posters, the whole Invaders Must Die cafeteria fight, and that one specific fucking bird that threw Chai around like a hacky sack. THEY. WANT. THIS. TWINK. OBLITERATED.

8. Their Affection Towards Cats:

Korsica has a folder on her computer labeled "CAT Gifs", and Roquefort fawns over 808 when she uses her Steal the Show ability. I rest my case.

9. Accidental Puns:

Okay, so I would've titled this "both like puns", but the jury's still out on Korsica in my opinion. Yeah, Chai says she's lying about hating puns, but to me, she seems like she's... on the fence of liking them. Like, she's hesitantly annoyed by them. But I CAN say that they've both accidentally made a pun. "You think you can strong-arm ME?" - Korsica "Hey, YOU chose to fight-...Wait, you like puns too?" (points at his arm) - Chai "What? No!" - Korsica "Roquefort here. Shut this place down! Protect Finance at all costs! (Heh, I said "costs!") - Roquefort "Ughhhhhhhh." - Peppermint

10. Probably Awakened Something in Players:

It's no wonder how thirsty the fandom is when these two have some of the most charged lines in the game... "You broke my concentration. So how 'bout I break you?" - Korsica "Let's take this somewhere a bit more secure. So we don't disturb the neighbors." - Roquefort Welcome to Hi-Fi Rush, where they appeal to both the "I love the kind of woman who could kick my ass" community and the furry werewolf boyfriend sugar daddy community.

11. Visual/Dialogue Similarities:

Finishing this off is a section dedicated to miscellaneous visual or dialogue similarities that I couldn't fit elsewhere.

(The camera zooms in before I can get a good shot of Korsica actually ON her desk, so standard shot it is.) TOP 10 WAYS TO ENHANCE YOUR LEADERSHIP SKILLS IN THE WORKPLACE #1: Jump onto your desk to establish dominance

Smug little losers...

GET FUCKING YEETED

Man, they even intimidated the camera man, they can't keep it straight.

Spiky, anime-ass hair/fur. Triangular.

Of course they have blue eyes and nails and pronouns (ft. Chai living the dream) Also, speaking of blue... maybe it's because both of theirs glow blue, but some of their cybernetics have the same vibe to me.

Mostly just the chest and the arms (since that's all Korsica's got). Maybe I'm just looking too hard but like... the blue tubes connected to the arms, the glowing chest... Okay, I'm running out of red string for my evidence board, moving on. Anyways, not as much to bring up about remaining dialogue similarities, but I still have a few. "Is that a floating cat? Ugh, nothing about you even makes sense!" - Korsica "The numbers are in... and YOU are OUT!" - Chai "Wow. That makes no sense, you idiot!" - Roquefort Behold Chai's natural ability to deal psychic damage by not making any sense whatsoever. And finally... mission plan dialogue. "Mission report. Just...go up." - Peppermint "Up?" - Chai "Up." - Peppermint "That's it?" - Chai "Looks like Korsica's in her office, and it's on the top floor. Hence, "up"." - Peppermint

"Chai, you're doing it! The Tower is unguarded. We're headed your way." - Korsica "Chai! Roquefort's office is a couple floors above you. Get up there and kick his ass!" - Peppermint When in doubt: go up.

So in conclusion...

[deoidesign]

.

[thebirdandhersong]

personally I don't like this ish (pointing to my emotions) and if I could remove one very specific one I am struggling with at the moment, that would be SOOOOOO very convenient and helpful, Lord

[sapsolais]

!

[girlscience]

having some thoughts today about sexuality and for the first time in a long fucking time they are positive. had an experience last night and i won't go into detail, but afterwards i was thinking "that was for me and i don't want to and would not want to ever share that with anyone else". and now i'm having thoughts today about maybe my sexuality is for me and it's not about other people. it's about what i enjoy and what feels good to me and maybe i would invite someone else into that someday, but my sexuality would exist for me even if i never had a sexual partner in my whole life. i shouldn't worry about or struggle with or try to label myself for that potential partner or my family or my friends or random people online or strangers on the street. it's just about me and what i enjoy. what makes me feel good. and for some reason that's not something i ever really realized before. my sexuality isn't a nutrition label on a can of soup, it isn't some political opinion or experience, it isn't alienating to others, and it certainly isn't a moral stance. it is an internal experience for me to enjoy first and foremost and that has nothing to do with other people.

[tachiisms]

.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

I was trying to define how I'm feeling rn and I came up with 'horrible, but in a good way'

[shiningstages]

Me lookin' at my lil content: d'aaaaaaaw it's so cute~

I wanted to do stuff before work, but I like blanked out since I'm sleepy (went to bed around 1? 2?? then woke up at 7:11; not terrible but not like Great) then did my required stretchies / looked up stuff for things~ Tomorrow I have my last PT session and follow-up, and then I plan on cleaning my room / generally just chilling out since it has been Forever, but now...I will try and schedule in time for OC thoughts today and tomorrow (still have to decide if Atlas would be primal or astral...and maybe compare some story stuff to make sure it's not stepping on any Canon toes...but maybe we also don't care about that second bit ghffjghfgvcccgkhf).

[todayisafridaynight]

huh...wuh..accidentally hit daigo with the bpd beam (unintended projection is scary) in sumn im writing but now im thinking daigo could totally have it chairman daigo is better at managing it but 2006 daigo is already doing bad whats another thing on the pile hes got the risky behaviour he's got the impulsiveness maybe the unstable relationships (im reaching i think)..maybe im just smarter than everyone and right and awesome wow..

(i rambled sorry) (my bad) (headcanons are so fun for me sorry)

you come into my house and proclaim yourself smarter than me when it comes to daigo dojima i will make your execution quick and painless

unfortunately you're right in this one instance cause i dont know a licka anything about BPD so i'll SIMPLY have to take your word on it. whats another trouble for the boy yk

[akari-hope]

.

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Tonight

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]

(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))

2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.

"Not tonight."

Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?

"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"

Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.

You'd take anything at all.

"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."

"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."

All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.

Someone had to agree eventually, right?

You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.

"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"

"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.

"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."

Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.

"Not now."

Simple, to the point, and sharp.

Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.

The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.

You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?

A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.

Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.

You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.

You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.

You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!

Yet it never seems like enough.

Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.

You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.

Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?

You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.

Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.

Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?

... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.

You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.

Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.

Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...

Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.

The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.

You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.

Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.

Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.

It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.

You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.

Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?

You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.

It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.

Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.

You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.

Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.

Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?

It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.

This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.

Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.

The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.

As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.

Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.

Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.

You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.

You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.

They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.

Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?

Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.

Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.

You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.

And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.

'They don't deserve to hear my music.'

Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.

So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.

You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.

You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.

Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.

You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.

...

You settled for second best.

Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.

You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.

Never once did you look back.

Nor did you ever feel inclined to.

------

Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:

I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n

Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.

Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...

Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.

--------

Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

pls do virgin miguel o'hara w/ a huge cock and fucks both of u dumb 🥹

I hope this is what you meant, babe. Miguel might be ooc, idk, anyway, here ya go:

NSFW below the cut, minors DNI.

Nothing could have ever prepared you for this.

He's big—massive even. The head’s swollen, precome beading at the very tip. All that from a heavy makeout session.

You stared, almost fascinated, stunned into silence.

"...is it okay?" Miguel grunted, watching you carefully with nervous eyes. He was sitting rather uncomfortably at the edge of your bed, legs spread apart and briefs pooled around his ankles.

"Uhh…yeah," you sank to your knees in front of him, "just never seen one so...big." Miguel grew increasingly flustered at your words, even more so when you gripped him firmly in your hand, squeezing ever so slightly. His cock looked ridiculous in your small hands but that only fueled you to take up the challenge. You knew it'd hurt so good.

You bit your lip before devouring him, taking as much of him as you could. He choked, hand flying to grip your hair, and you were certain he’d take the lead and move you over his cock at the speed he desired, but he didn’t. His fingers were gentle, almost hesitant as he buried them within the strands.

It was your first time tasting him. You got lost in it, slobbering over the tip and down his shaft with the intention of taking him whole but he pushed you away, causing you to release him with a pop.

“Fuck, cariño,” Miguel panted, shaking his head, his dark hair damp with sweat, “I can’t—you can’t—it’s too much, I won’t last.”

You looked up at him with a teary gaze, wanting to make eye contact but he refused, content with turning his head to the side to look at the wall.

“Mig?” He ignored you, jaw clenched and nose flared as he fisted the sheets under him.

“Miguel,” you tried again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood. He ignored you still and you grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes, “what’s wrong?” You smoothed his hair away from his brow, hoping the action would soothe him. His eyes were lidded but he looked at you, brows arched.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You cooed.

"I don't know what I'm doing." He muttered, shutting his eyes as soon as the words left his lips.

"What do you mean?" You questioned, pressing your lips to his forehead in a chaste kiss, "you’re supposed to sit and enjoy.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he sounded frustrated, his large hands falling to your hips, gripping you tightly, “I’ve…never done any of this before.” You paused, processing his words while stroking your thumbs over his high cheekbones. 

He’s never done this before? Had no one ever sucked his cock?

Did he mean…?

Oh. OH.

“You mean you’re a…?”

“Virgin. Yeah.” He finally said, dropping his into the plushness of your breasts. 

The last thing you assumed was that Miguel O’Hara was a virgin. The man was the very definition of confidence. You’ve seen how women acted around him. It never crossed your mind that he lacked any sexual encounters. But now it made sense. You’ve been dating Miguel for a few weeks and within those few weeks, you did nothing more than kiss like the world demanded it from you. That was fine; he was an excellent kisser.

Anytime it seemed like something more would come from the kissing, he’d stop, nipping it in the bud, saying he had work in the morning. He was a busy man and, well, that was that. You thought he never had much time for anything else.

But you understood now.

“Ahh Mig, nothing to be embarrassed about,” you said sweetly, brushing the tip of your nose with his, “we can stop if you want—”

“No!” He roared, bringing you down to his lap. You could feel his erection, hot and wet with your spit, pressing hard against your clothed core. You gasped, letting your hands fall to his shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, “Don’t wanna stop. Wanna feel you.”

“Yeah?” you breathed, eyes fluttering as he nibbled your skin, “a-are you sure? If you’re not ready then—”

“I’m ready,” He growled, pressing his brow against yours, “just thought you should know, cariño. Don’t want to disappoint you.”

You rode him for what felt like hours, his giant cock slamming into where you needed him the most. You ached from the stretch of him, your cunt swollen and raw, gushing all over his length. He was a moaning mess, biting every surface of you he could: your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones, your breasts. He was insatiable, cumming within minutes of your pussy swallowing his cock. Refractory period non-existent. He’d go again and again and again till he painted you completely with his spend and you were too fucked out to speak.

Nope. He didn’t disappoint. Not even a little.

[as-para-gus]

Miles' universe is Blank.

Right at the beginning of the movie, the lady explains that its her job to 'capture his universe', but she has no idea who this kid is, so she has nothing written.

Miles is the 'original' anomaly, who—according to Miguel—was never meant to be spiderman. It makes sense that no one quite knows what to expect.

But hold on a second, in a universe where spiderman already existed, would changing a canon event still be catastrophic when they've technically already happened?

If it is, why hasn't the universe where Miles' spider came from collapsed in on itself like Miguel claims it should? Because the spider never bit Peter Parker in that universe, I'd say that several canon events have changed, but other than chaos due to lack of a spiderman, the universe has yet to tear itself apart.

Why do they listen to Miguel anyway? Oh right, because he's experienced it the consequences of changing canon events. But in that case, wouldn't that make him the original anomaly?

It would make sense, both him and Miles have distinct powers that seperate themselves from the other spiders, like invisibility or vampire-esque teeth.

Dont let all the different versions of spiderman confuse you, they all have things in common—outside of canon events—and Miguel is an outlier in all of them.

No humor, distinct webs, and whatever the hell he injected himself with aside, Miguel has not only lost sight of what it means to be spiderman, but also managed to drag everyone down with him.

Maybe thats why Miguel makes such a good antagonist, because I dont know about you, but alot of what he explained made sense. I found myself even agreeing—greater good and all that. Sure it sucks, but thats the responsibility of Spiderman right?

But wait. When did spiderman become so cynical? As of now, Miguel is not Spiderman. Maybe he never was. I hope for Miles sake thats not true.

But back on topic. Just like that lady at the very start, Miguel also has no idea who this kid is, or how his universe is going to turn out - and thats a little scary. Especially when its possible Miles can achieve everything he wasnt able to. There are a million reasons why Miguel's univeres collaped in on itself, and I'm not inclined to take his word.

[edenesth]

[5:45 PM]

'Don't wait up for me! Go home first, Woo. There's food in the fridge.' — future wifey💘

Your boyfriend pouted as he read the text you'd sent him at 5pm. He had arrived at your office building and was waiting at his usual spot when he received your message. Normally, you got off work sharp at 5, but today you seemed overwhelmingly busy. Unlike usual, you hadn't even been very responsive during lunch hour.

Wooyoung glanced up and noticed that the lights in your office were among the few still on. Although it was still early, it was a Friday evening, and most people preferred to leave on time and deal with any leftover work on the following Monday.

How long could she take anyway? I'll wait.

Refusing to go home without you, he patiently waited downstairs, hoping to surprise you when you eventually emerged from the building. His unease grew as he watched more and more people leave, the offices slowly emptying, and the sky darkening, yet there was still no sign of you. There were times when you stayed late at work, but never this late.

Nearly an hour later, he sent you a text to let you know he didn't mind waiting and was still in the same spot, asking how much longer you would be. If you needed more time, he'd go to the nearby café for a drink while waiting. But he frowned when 10 minutes passed, and you hadn't even been online; his message was sent but still unread. The final straw was when his call went unanswered.

Despite feeling panic creep in, he tried to stay calm as he walked into the lobby of your office building. Breathe, Jung Wooyoung, breathe. He tells himself you were probably just really busy. But why? You had told him the peak season ended a week ago, so this should have been a slow week. It didn't make sense that you were working so late now. What weren't you telling him?

Crap, is she cheating on me?

Slapping himself on the cheek, he chastised himself for even entertaining such a thought. You had been nothing but the best and most dedicated girlfriend he'd ever had. How could he think that way about you? Now, he only prayed you were alright. What if something had happened to you? What if you had passed out? What if someone at work was doing something untoward to you? He remembered you mentioning a coworker who persistently pursued you despite knowing you were taken.

Well, that wasn’t comforting at all.

"Come on, come on, come on!" he muttered through gritted teeth as he watched the elevator numbers climb slowly. He only needed to get to the ninth floor, but the trip had never felt longer. His mind conjured up all sorts of wild scenarios, and his heart was pounding in his chest. He needed to see you right now, to have you safe and sound in front of him so he could be okay again.

Ding!

Before the elevator doors fully opened, he was already dashing out at full speed. The dim, empty reception counter of your department greeted him as he sprinted towards your office—the only place he knew to go. "I'm coming, love. Just wait for me."

He had no idea what to expect as he saw your door open, the light from your room spilling into the dark and silent office. Anxiety flooded him as he braced for the unexpected. And indeed, it was unexpected. His steps faltered as he stopped to catch his breath at the entrance of your office, eyes glued to the sight before him. He didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the extent of his overthinking.

Wooyoung let out a huge sigh of relief, his eyes softening as he took in your petite frame, now slumped over your workdesk, fast asleep amidst piles of documents. The glaring screen of your PC reflected off your glasses, which were crooked on your face as you snored lightly. Your phone, in silent mode, lay beside you.

This explained everything.

Your boyfriend approached you slowly, careful not to wake you yet. With one glance at your computer, he immediately understood why you had been so busy today. Your team leader's emergency leave had left you responsible for a case that ran into some hiccups. Scrolling down the trail of emails, he felt relieved to see that you had eventually solved the issue. The exhaustion must have hit you hard once the adrenaline was gone.

Gently, he removed your glasses from your face, placing them back in their case before running his hand through your hair, tucking loose strands away from your face. Unable to resist, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss onto your temple.

That seemed to have stirred you awake. You emitted a small groan and fluttered your eyes open, prompting him to step back slightly. But you reached out and held onto his shirt.

"Woo? Wh-what are you doing here?"

He shook his head, planting another kiss on your cheek before standing upright, his hands resting on his hips. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you sleep in the office, hm? Pack up now, we're going home."

Your heart warmed at his words. Just when you thought it wasn't possible to love him any more, he continued to prove you wrong each time. "Yes, sir."

Despite his directive, he ended up doing all the packing for you as your sleepy form waited by his side. After shutting down your PC, he reached for your bag and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come, let's go."

Suddenly, in the elevator, he found himself wishing the trip would last longer. He pulled your cardigan snugly around you, sliding an arm behind your back and resting his forehead against yours. Admiring the way your sleep-deprived eyes drooped adorably, he grinned softly, biting his lip. His other hand cupped your face as he whispered, "Just hold on a little longer, love. You'll get to rest soon."

You nodded with a pout, and the sight of your tempting pink, soft lips made a sigh escape his mouth. "Good girl," he muttered before leaning in to capture your lips.

His heart skipped a beat when, despite your exhaustion, you responded to his kiss almost instinctively, though a bit more sluggish than usual. His heart swelled with affection at how your body reacted to him, knowing it was only for him. Stroking your cheeks lovingly, he deepened the kiss, only to let out a disappointed whine when the elevator dinged too soon.

You giggled, gently pushing him away. "You know we can continue in the car, right?" His excitement reignited at the suggestion. Insisting he'd help you with your things and settling you in the passenger seat first, he felt his heart flutter as he hurried to the driver's seat. "Alright, where were we?" he asked eagerly, only to find you fast asleep.

Of course, she's asleep. What did I expect?

He chuckled in disbelief, securing your seatbelt and shaking his head in amusement. As he started driving, he slipped his hand into yours, smiling when he felt your fingers unconsciously curling around his.

God, how he loved you.

ATEEZ Masterlist

This is me failing miserably at my "try to stay loyal to Park Seonghwa challenge" because what the hell is Jung Wooyoung so attractive for? The way bro made me write the longest timestamp to date...

Also, guess who clowned herself thinking she could post the first part of Mingi's TWTHH spinoff this weekend?🤡 it's only 1k+ words in so far, I was out all day yesterday and didn't get to write much huhu but hopefully by next week, it'll be out! Hopefully🤞🏻

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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