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#everyone who I thought was a rando turned out not to be and Im sure even the completely nameless mentioned characters are probably someone

citrusinicake · 1 month

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Day 2 :: Zombie Apocalypse

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do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to be a zombie in this economy? you just go out there trying to have a bite to eat so you go up to some randos and they just start SHOOTING YOU! like straight up just SHOOTING YOU! like what the hell man? i mean i know im trying to rip your brains out and shit but cant you let a guy just fucking eat???? speaking of, this guy's brain tastes weird like im pretty sure its at least fifty percent plastic, maybe even a hundred percent i don't know. was he your boyfriend or something? does this mean you're single? wanna go out sometime? you're annoying as shit but i like that in a man, keeps you on your toes y'know? keeps you humble as well like you just wake up in bed one day and go "oh god this is the guy im dating and i don't even want to break up with him or anything what the hell's wrong with me," which i think is a pretty important thing to have-- at least for me 'cause im awesome as shit and if i don't have that sort of anchor i'll probably lke turn into god or something and i dont wanna be god. not out of self-esteem issues or anything, just out of principle 'cause i think that everyone should have a fair chance at killing me which not gonna lie is pretty easy but that's besides the point, the point is that i think anyone who wants to be god is fucking stupid and should just fucking die. like, hello??? who the hell do you think you are rying to reign above other people? are you stupid? are you dumb? hello? anyways, if you wanna know more about what i think of this i post a lot on r/atheism, im user u/waffleontopp-- wait , do i have to explain reddit to you? 'cause you seem more like a tumblrina to me, honestly reddit's pretty similar to tumblr so you won't have a lot of trouble figuring it out on your own but don't be shocked ifbyou see cock and balls on there since porn isn't banned there unlike tumblr. how's that whole thing treating you by the way? must be tough not seeing some girl's boobs every once in a while-- wait are you gay or bi? must be tough not seeing some guy's boobs every once in a while, that won't be problem if you start dating me though. haha just kidding, my chest is basically concave now after a survivor beat me repeatedly with a baseball bat so ive got like negative double D's now. oh but i do know this one guygirlthing whose boobs are out basically 24/7 who likes to hang out with me and this other guy so maybe that'll make up for it. they're not zombies and im pretty sure they didnt get infected so you don't have to worry about that but they miiiight have rabies or something im not sure to be honest so maybe watch out for that instead. if youre wondering why two non-infected humans are hanging out with a zombie then we're in the same boat, might have something to do with the possible rabies i mentioned earlier. also if they tell you that im their pet zombie that is simply not true, if anything it's the other way around, they're my pet guard dogs and they do basically anything i say even if it kills them. or at least i wish it would kill them, they're way too hardy in my opinion, i need them to die so i can eat their brains-- oh but then i'll have to do manual labor. hmm, on second thought, they can stay actually i don't wanna deal with all that. normally i dont even do my own kills nowadays, i just leave a trap or get the other two to do it for me, you guys just caught me offguard which is lowkey embarassing but trust me i am a huge, like Huge alpha sigma gamma male and would totally dominate everyone else around me. but not in a god way of course, just in a lone sigma alpha gamma wolf kinda way like those anime wolf furry drawings. you know the ones. and like im not a furry but not gonna lie they totally popped off with those

#mine.art #baconswagweek2024 #baconswag

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scarletiswailing347 · 1 month

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postinf the text for my day 2 bsweek prompt here cause its making me lag lol

#mine.txt

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heartbrake-hotel · 1 year

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Lordy honey yall makin me wanna write my own damn prompt. I got some more little tidbits for ya:

Elvis was turned during his first appearance at the International. But who turned him? I'm thinking there's some sort of deal going on between one the old vampires who invested in the building, maybe even the International's owner and Colonel Parker. They want Elvis to play there for as long as possible, and he isn't getting any younger--so they make it so he can't get any older, either.

At first Elvis is in a state of confusion, because fledglings (at least in my thoughts) are in a sort of fog when first turned. It helps them to adapt to feeding; cue Colonel Parker shoving cigarette girls into Elvis's suite, which he drains dry, much to his own horror when the initial feeding frenzy lifts.

And Colonel Parker isn't exactly picky with what he feeds Elvis: whoever is easy to get up into the suite, and high young girls are the easiest. Elvis tries, when he can afford it, to not feed--he doesn't know that if he drinks regularly then the frenzy won't come, but nobody has told him much of anything. His Sire isn't there, there wasn't any sort of ritual to his Turning as there normally is. No, this was just business.

aLRIGHT WOOHOO SMITTY MY LOVE LOOK AT US !!! im finally getting to this lmaoooo oOOPS 🙈 AND i have some mf THOUGHTS,,

(the orig hc post is here btw) ((idk if yall could tell but it Wrecked my Shit))

also it's been Sooooo long since we discussed this that u now have some Other relevant supernatural!au lore to pull from . so,, i hope u don't mind if i conflate the two universes a lil but ur worldbuilding in you ain't nothin' but a overtook my conscious mind weeks ago and has yet to relent 💝 oh nooooo.. whatever shall i dooooo.. 😏

far too many words under the cut. i, uh.. i may have lost control a lil 🤭🦇 ft. a frankly excessive use of pet names and an e who has been babygirlified maybe more than is appropriate within the confines of the plot (shocking, i'm sure).

right ok so !! vegas as a hub for at least some of the supernatural bc of its transient nature, high tourist volume, and seedy reputation. obvious check

for the most part, unaffiliated vamps stay out of vegas. like you said- it's too hard to monitor their blood concentrations when everyone and their dog is doing truckloads of party drugs well into the night.! but there are, of course, some Old Ones, who saw (or perhaps even built??) the city as their own personal playground btw this blends so seamlessly into the irl high-level mob ties its crazy lmao. marina's bringing up elvis is literally never not on my mind 🙏

if you're rich enough, or powerful enough (or have friends who are enough so), you don't have to fend for yourself the same way, so it's less of an issue. sucking out some rando party girl off the street is faaar beneath the pay grade of the handful of guys at the top, who have their meals carefully cultivated and hand-procured thru what is almost certainly a human trafficking ring

kirk kerkorian [or meyer kohn - u can pick ur universe, here] and the entire board of the international is of course among this group, exerting their power and influence (and perhaps Compulsion) to keep the flow of money running smoothly from the casinos below directly into their cash-lined pockets.

colonel tom parker [a demon again? or perhaps nobody in particular - either way he ends up hellspawn lmao whether literally or figuratively] is acutely aware of this when he first signs elvis on for the hotel's opening season - how could he not be? and of course everything goes perfectly smoothly for those first six weeks in 1969. **ik im twisting ur original idea just a tad but bear w me

but the longer the engagement goes, the more trouble colonel has reining elvis in. he had agreed heartily to those first fifty-eight appearances - purely to fund his upcoming world tour, you understand ("the snowman strikes again!"). but no matter how much colonel wheedles, he's not budging; elvis simply will not sign on for the next year.! he's finally holding his ground... and that's his undoing

coming off the back of his comeback special and last movie, e finally feels like he's got his mojo workin' - the king is back on top! after a looong decade stuffed fit to bursting with his botched movie career, he never thought he'd wrest any semblance of creative control away from the powers that be. but the last year or so has really made him see the value of his own opinion, AND the dangers of continued complacency. so with the backing of his family and extended entourage, he's heading halfway across the world just as soon as he gets off that stage for the last time.

colonel can't have that, not with the remainder of his hefty personal debt hanging in the balance. and with all the dough the hotel is raking in during the first dregs of their opening season, nobody up top wants their prize little cash cow flying away to london or japan or the rock of eternity or wherever he's fixin' to go - not if they have anything to say about it !

and so a plan is devised, swiftly, mercilessly, and without any pesky sense of remorse. after all, what do they have to feel bad about? they're just taking care of business

just after elvis' last performance, he's heading to his packed-up suite to shower and change for what he thinks will be the last time.. the boys are downstairs getting the last of the stuff in the cars and then they'll all head to the airport. he's got just a couple minutes to spare, and he assures them he'll be fine alone. just gonna run on up and change real quick, y'all don't needta worry about me none. [*evil colonel voice* wanna bet?]

he steps into his unusually empty suite, but before he can even shuck the towel from around his neck, his throat is being wrenched to the side in a vice grip as an unseen assailant steps from their hiding spot behind the door. he yelps, tries to throw them off, goes for the gun in his boot, but their grip is like steel, solid and unyielding, and before he can move much of anywhere there's a sharp prick in his neck and a sudden heaviness in his muscles he can't quite shake.

he assumes it's a syringe - he's not wholly unfamiliar with a needle, after all, and why would he suspect anything else? he guesses he's been drugged on account of... well, on account of bein' elvis presley. goddamn sonsabitches don't need any more reason than that. 'course, the sensation is a little different than he's used to - the gauge is unfamiliar, and he could swear he feels two distinct track marks - but by then his head is spinning too much to be certain of anything.

the last thing he feels is a rushing sense of complacency as his legs give out. his vision is swimming too much too see his attacker's face, but they let him go down, hard, and he crumples to an undignified heap on the floor helplessly as they turn to... leave? huh. not what he expected, but he supposes beggars can't be choosers

his sluggishly disjointed musings are broken only by the shadowy figure melting back into the shadows... his increasingly-addled mind knows he should be glad at their sudden departure, but all he can concentrate on is the inexplicable swing out of the vague sense of euphoria that had been the "drugs" kicking in, and a sudden accompanying feeling that he didn't like one bit. he could only describe it as a crawling fear, an absence, a kind of ripping deep in his soul... a pervasive sense of distance, of wrongness so festering he feared it was about to tear him apart from the inside out. he's suddenly certain he's not meant to be alone right now.

he gasps in the worst pain he's ever felt, and at the same moment, he's aware of a rush of footsteps in the hallway outside - he barely manages a wobbly gesture to the door and a slurred request to rip his goddamn tongue out b'the roots to the panicked faces of his boys crowding around his supine form before his vision finally goes dark.

when he wakes up, he's in an all-too-familiar bed. before running for the doctor and his daddy, a frazzled jerry sitting vigil at his side hurriedly explains that without him conscious enough to fill them in, all they knew is he wasn't fit to travel, so they'd unpacked his suite again while waiting for him to return to the land of the living. he's grateful, but assures him that as soon as he's feeling better they'll be heading out again.

he asks jerry to turn down the thermostat and flip off the light on his way out. the heavily-drawn drapes had already ensured it'd been near-pitch dark and freezing, just how he liked it, but he murmured it felt like he was burnin' up from the inside out, and his eyes were too sensitive for even the ambient glow of his bedside lamp. jerry does so and also fetches him a pair of big ol' sunglasses, without a word.

the doctors (who'd been summoned to the hotel; despite protests from the mafia, colonel had suggested that moving elvis to a hospital could be even more dangerous, what with this criminal still on the loose, and vernon had reluctantly agreed) hadn't been able to tell what he'd been dosed with - it'd metabolized too quickly to detect, apparently. all they can tell him after the last four days of monitoring his comatose form is that his vitals have been almost astonishingly strong. the only symptom he's had has been a high fever, but it breaks as soon as he's awake again- and actually, his body temp has overcorrected and is a little low now, is he feeling chilly?

they joke that whatever he'd been given seems to have actually helped him, and he's inclined to agree... despite the fact that they hadn't administered anything to him except an IV drip, in case it had any adverse interactions with whatever he'd been on, his chronic pain has mysteriously vanished. and since he's been awake and in recovery, he's only seemed to get more handsome and charming, no sign at all of being out of it and on fluids for so long. you sure wouldn't have known his recent predicament by looking at him !

he's got a host of baffling new symptoms as well, but nothing that seems dangerous or that points to any kind of diagnosis. he's growing increasingly thirsty, but the buckets of water he's drinking aren't quenching him. he seems to have lost his sense of taste (this one hits him the worst) - at first, the smell of food made him nauseous. now he can keep it down, but it feels like ash in his mouth. his light sensitivity lingers, though for the most part it's limited to natural light, and he takes to wearing the sunglasses often. he seems to have developed a sudden allergy to some of his jewelry - his silver rings and pendants now cause a burning rash. he has them remade in gold and doesn't give it a second thought.

he tells and retells his story to the cops, but they're left scratching their heads; it's widely assumed the panicked arrival of the mafia scared off the creep before they could pull off the rest of their plan. kill him, kidnap him for ransom... seemed like they'd never know for sure, but either way everyone agrees he narrowly escaped a much worse fate. colonel doesn't think it wise for him to be on the road, what with this continued threat hanging over his head, but jerry argues it doesn't seem any better to stay in vegas with this freak at large. and elvis points out that if the bastard follows him overseas, they have bigger fish to fry.

the boys seem confused that the attack doesn't appear to have played into his usual paranoia in any way; he doesn't know quite how to explain it, he tells them, but he feels stronger, somehow. more settled. like if it ever came to it again, he could handle himself. it might just be relieved cockiness, but what didn't kill him made it so he's at least not afraid again. he's been reflecting deeply on psalm 23, apparently.

and so the suite is once again packed up, despite colonel's protestations- this time with elvis under constant supervision, much to his good-natured amusement. it goes without incident, and they make it all the way to the runway before elvis is suddenly doubled over in pain in the back of the limo, sweating and shaking like a leaf.

he's groaning that it hurts, hurts s'bad, but can't say anything more than that, and within seconds the whole caravan has whipped around and is careening back to the relative safety of the hotel. by the time he's being ferried hurriedly up to his room, he's improving steadily, and by the time he's settled in bed and the doctors once more fetched, he's weak and badly shaken but seems no worse for wear.

the doctors can't explain this apparent relapse any more than the first, but tentatively give him a clean bill of health, and two days later they try it all again. this time he makes it within a couple miles of the airport, and it takes him four days to recover. the last time they try, he only makes it four blocks away from the Strip and is bedridden for a week. nobody has any sort of explanation, and the tour is put on hold indefinitely while they're seemingly stranded.

the colonel is the one who offers a possible solution. he'd been hovering around elvis' room the whole time (like a bad smell, sonny mutters when he's out of earshot), fluttering around with assurances that the hotel would gladly host them as long as they needed, maybe even sign them on for another season if elvis so wished...

when elvis finally roars that he just wants OUT of this place, goddammit in response to vernon's suggestion that he stop working himself up with leaving, colonel finally pounces.

he must put his foot down, he says. his boy is clearly in no condition to travel- no, no, not physically, he hastily amends, when elvis opens his mouth to remind him what the doctors said, but clearly mentally. something about the attack has left him emotionally unstable, it appears, and the idea of leaving, even though he's so sure he wants to, is clearly triggering some kind of psychosomatic attack. why doesn't he make up his mind to stay- not forever, just until his head is screwed on right. he can keep playing the international, and they can find him some head-shrinkers to fix him right up, eh? elvis doesn't see any choice but to glumly agree.

of course, unbeknownst to elvis, the real issue is that his Maker won't allow him to leave vegas city limits. he's been kept totally in the dark as to his situation and is thus totally suggestible, so when the vampire who Turned him (continually employed by the Ancients for just this kind of dirty work) uses their mental connection to Compel him to stay within a certain radius, elvis doesn't even know he's feeling it, much less that it's possible to fight it. his Bat simply obeys without question, to the confusion of his body and conscious mind.

if his Turning had been accompanied by proper ritual, if his Maker had explained any of his new life to him, if he'd received any guidance at all, he'd know he could override this instinct, break the Bond they shared (especially as ill-cultivated as it is), and be on his way. as it is, he's like a dog with a newly-installed invisible fence. a dog who's also growing steadily weaker since his Turning because of his lack of sustenance, mind you.

the colonel knows all this. he also knows that any doctors or psychiatrists that see elvis from this point on will be in the know, be provided by the hotel, and be payed handsomely to tell elvis exactly what the colonel wants him to hear. he send word to the Council that they've got him at last. they rejoice at the prospect of chaining elvis to their stage for an eternity, elvis begrudgingly signs the contract for another engagement, and this is where the real trouble starts...

it's been three weeks since he was inadvertently Turned, and elvis is feeling the affects of not having Fed, though he doesn't realize it. he's weak, he's thirsty, he's snappish, and can somebody turn off those godDAMNED lights !!! the mafia assume it's due to his mental slump and are at a loss except to wait it out, but the colonel thinks he has something to cheer him up. he winks and tells red that elvis will have a few, ehem.. lady visitors tonight, and surely they shouldn't be disturbed. the boys get the hint.

colonel sends up the ditziest cigarette girl he can find downstairs, a perky little blonde, so doped-up out of her mind she's wobbling in her heels. she gasped and flushed darkly when he told her that mr. presley was in need of her services; he hadn't even needed to slip her any cash to incentivize her troubles. he chomped on his cigar and grinned darkly as he watched her giggle her way to the elevator.

elvis, for his part, almost makes it. he'd answered the rhythmic little knock in his robe, loosely tied, and didn't miss the way the sweet young thing at his door gaped at the sight of all that chest on display. before he can even say anything, she's slipped under his arm and further into the room, and he raises an eyebrow and grins as he eases the door shut. he peruses her wares (the CIGARETTES !! im talking about the cigarettes..) more for show than anything else, and hands her a $20 in exchange for a pack he doesn't plan on smoking, telling her to keep the change.

she bends over far more than necessary while stacking boxes back in her tray, and flutters her lashes when she asks him if there's... anything else she can get him. flattered as he is, he tells her, he isn't sure he needs anything just now, but thank you kindly anyways, honey. truthfully, he's not sure he's feeling up for it, but she pouts so prettily as she swings her hips sadly over to the door, and turns back to ask if he's really really sure... the colonel had sent her up with express instructions to give him anything he wanted, she explains, sultry little whine in her voice, and he finds his resolve crumbling.

surely a little kissing wouldn't hurt, he reasons, might even make him feel a lil better, and her eyes light up in glee when he beckons her back over. but the minute she's in his arms, easing her way up to his lips as her eyes flutter shut, he isn't sure what comes over him. they're so close her heartbeat rushes in his ears, and without a thought he's effortlessly snapped her neck (with strength he didn't know he had) and is lapping frantically from her torn throat (pierced with the aid of sharp fangs he's never felt before). she never even saw it coming.

he moans as he sags to the ground, clutching her limp form and still slurping desperately as, for the first time since his attack, his thirst is quenched. he dimly realizes he's done something unforgivable, but his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, everything around him distant and foggy. the sense of panic he knows he should be feeling is a far-off twinge, all but muted by the combined cocktail of ecstasy running through him: fresh blood, dope, and a brain fog he can't quite attribute to either.

when she's dry he's sated, the sense of woozy relief hits him so strong that he barely manages to stagger to his feet and stumble over to the couch, chin and hands still covered in blood, before he's passing out for ten hours of the emptiest sleep he's ever had. when he wakes up, all traces of what happened are gone, and with a mind that finally feels clearer than it has for weeks, he almost manages to convince himself it was an incredibly fucked-up dream, so potent that the sweet metallic tang is still blooming on his tongue...

...until of course, the next time it happens. it goes much the same way: the colonel has no trouble locating a girl who'll never be missed- this is vegas, after all- and sends her, high as a kite of her own volition, up to the penthouse to keep company with a disgruntled and starving elvis. he drains her dry before he can even blink, but stays awake this time to spend the next few hours totally blissed out in an uncomfortably drugged haze. the more he comes down, the more he hates not only what he's done but also the way it makes him feel.

thus starts a vicious cycle: elvis, terrified of feeding, swears off blood, until he's half-starved but fighting himself at every turn. the colonel intervenes, sending throngs of low-risk girls up to the suite, where e simply can't help himself anymore, and enters a violent blood-crazed frenzy. he spends the hours after staggering around half-lucid, waiting for the effects to fade so he can convince himself he'll never do it again.

the stronger he maintains his tenuous mental fortitude- the longer he goes between feeds- the more girls he needs in a night to fill him up, and the higher he gets afterwards. he doesn't ask where colonel finds them or what he does with the bodies. he thinks dully that he doesn't much want to know.. it's hard enough on his conscience already.

of course, yet another thing nobody's bothered to explain to poor frightened fledgling elvis is that every time he refuses to feed when he should, every time he feels the welling signs of that dark hunger within himself and shoves them down in distress, every time his instincts are forced to take over and quite literally make him feed, that it exacerbates the mental fog he's feeling.

vampiric lore (which of course he doesn't know) attributes it to a sort of easing-in countermeasure; it's only newly-turned vampires, not fully in touch with their desires, that attempt to starve themselves so, clearly suffering from a mental block regarding the morality of preying upon their former species. to smooth their transition into acceptance of their new form, every time they're forced to feed rather than do it willingly, a potent release of hormones and neurotransmitters floods their system, both to combat any lingering guilt and to make them crave the mental release of feeding just as much as the physical.

if he were to feed normally, if he were to provide his body with the nourishment it needed on a regular basis, his instincts wouldn't have to override his mind this way. he wouldn't be forced to feed so violently or so much, he'd be able to control himself such that he could select his own victims preferentially and even bring himself to stop before killing them, and he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed afterwards.

elvis thinks of his... condition as an affliction, a temptation he lacks the strength to overcome, but really, it's his body's desperate attempt to stay alive when his mind insists on thwarting his ongoing survival at every turn. the bloodlust isn't a punishment but a protective measure, and one he could prevent if he'd take consistent care of his new needs.

and on top of all that, the particular way his intake is chemically tainted only adds to this anguish, because now he's unknowingly also developing a dependency on the drugs- the painful withdrawal symptoms of which serve to strongarm him into feeding even more frequently.

things are only exacerbated by his performance engagement starting back up; of course, it's even easier to find girls- hordes of them batter the doors to the showroom after every show, desperate for just another glimpse of him- but it also means he's got a responsibility to be right there on that stage twice a night, able-minded or no, and he takes that very seriously.

he's got people to support, after all, so he gets very used to functioning while highly intoxicated, whether that means performing, schmoozing the high rollers in the casino at the behest of his hotel benefactors, or smiling through a never-ending stream of reporters and photographers during every interview and press conference.

this is where the reader steps in !!!

you're one of less than a handful of vamps, just two or three, really, who manage to stick around vegas (and consume healthy blood) without the influence of the Old Ones, a feat you manage by staying off the Strip almost entirely. you stick to the suburbs, both as a way to ensure you're not tripping out after every meal, and to (hopefully) stay out of sight and out of mind of the powerful Ancients who don't want anyone infringing on their territory. this is very fright night remake vibes btw if anyone remembers that

but there's very little to do in the dusty, sprawling desert neighborhoods that isn't centered around maintaining the tourism industry downtown, especially for an immortal with nothing but time (and the occasional meal) to kill. you're nowhere near as experienced as those you seek to avoid, but you've been around the block quite a few times yourself, and sometimes the neon glow of the city lights overrides the quiet boredom of your safely-maintained little perimeter.

tonight is one such night: elvis presley had been headlining the international hotel for what felt like ages, or maybe just a blink - it was hard to judge that pesky human time, when their lifespans were so much shorter than yours. either way, he'd been this era's answer to jesus for a few decades now, and you had to admit you were curious to see him in person at last.

you decide on the midnight show- maybe if you're lucky, you can scrounge up a snack on the way home. you don't bother with a ticket- though you have more than enough human money stored up over the years, you're sure it's no use for what promises to be a sold-out show. the bouncers aren't any deterrent, either- you simply Compel them into checking the list for your name another time, and they let you in without a murmur. the showroom is packed so full, you notice as you survey the area, that nobody could ever notice one more.

you slip into a vacant seat at the end of one of the long tables that line the stage, with a group of screaming fans who don't seem to notice that they don't know you. you can't tell if their distraction is borne more from excitement or alcohol, but either way, you're grateful for the cover. you order a bloody mary as your own personal joke and bide your time until the show starts, perusing the booths that line the floor behind you. you recognize a few familiar Old Ones, by face if not name- no surprise, considering who runs the casino just outside.

eventually, the lights fade and the orchestra bursts into an opening riff. you clap with the rest when elvis struts out on stage, looking resplendent in a white jumpsuit, grinning wide and boyishly and practically glowing under the stage lights. his rings flash as he waves to the audience, courteous and attentive even as he starts singing. when the song's over he introduces himself and some of the VIPs, including the owner of the hotel (now there's a vamp who's been getting himself a lot of press lately), and the heavyset man next to him, apparently elvis' own manager. the man gives a simpering smile and wave to the crowd as the spotlights illuminate the booth, and you wrinkle your nose as you turn back to the main stage. you haven't placed it yet, but something seems off about that one.

elvis puts on a good show, you'll give him that, but the longer you watch, the more puzzled you become. he's slurring just a bit when he jokes with the band in between numbers, and more clumsy than you'd expect for someone so flexible; you'd say it was just another hollywood star using and abusing drugs if he didn't look so... panicked every time. he's twitchy, too, keeps getting down toward the edge of the stage like he's about to move out into the crowd and start planting kisses on his clamoring fans, like you've heard he does, but he keeps jerking himself back at the last second. they seem to think he's teasing, screaming louder every time, and he plays it off with a slow grin, but it's almost like... like he's afraid he won't be able to control himself, like...

ah. there it is

you zero in on just the barest flash of fang in his smile, and immediately suss out what's going on. elvis presley, a fledgling vamp in what is indisputably the worst city in the world for fledgling vamps... strange things are happening every day, aren't they?

that leaves you with more questions than answers, however... questions like where's his Master? why isn't he feeding properly? who's keeping him half-starved and strung-out? and most importantly, does he even know what's going on?

you narrow your eyes contemplatively as you watch him fool with the microphone before prompting the band to start the next song. all it takes is seeing his hands tremble around the cord to make you nod decisively and shoot back the rest of your drink. you suppose you can stick around a little longer than originally planned... after all, it seemed like elvis might need a little help fixing this, whether he knew it or not.

you lingered just a little after the show ended, waiting until the throngs of frantic women had pushed their way back to the lobby before heading after them yourself. you glanced around surreptitiously, locating the nearest elevator bay... and near it, a familiar older man with a cane whispering furtively to a clearly-tipsy young woman, one you recognized from your table during the show. she had caught a silk scarf fluttering down in front of her from the man himself and hadn't stopped screaming until the lights came back on. bingo

you ran one hand through your hair haphazardly, tousling it slightly as you stumbled your way over to them. "oh, there you are! i was looking for you," you chirped. she gasps and waves excitedly in the earnest way only drunk girls do, but your mouth is open again before she can speak and do something incriminating, like ask your name. "who's y'r friend? s'he coming upstairs with us?" you giggle, leering at... what had his name been again? ah yes, colonel parker. you silently gave a sigh of thanks for your heightened senses- you might not have recognized him just from your brief glimpse during the show otherwise.

the colonel glanced you over dismissively, clearly writing you off as another inebriated fan - his mistake, but exactly what you wanted him to think all the same. he gave you a leering grin and tapped his cane as he said "ah, i was just asking your friend here to do a simple personal favor for me..." you hummed disinterestedly until he continued "...on behalf of mister presley, of course." you gasped exaggeratedly and willed your cheeks to flush- lucky you had fed recently.

he seems to buy it, from the way his eyebrow ticks upwards when he sees your reaction "perhaps you would like to... accompany her to his suite, no?" he teases. you nod raptly, artificial stars in your eyes, and he snorts as he pushes the call elevator button for you with the top of his cane. "top floor. you two enjoy yourselves," he chuckles. the two of you giggle as he saunters away, towards the casino entrance.

as soon as the doors slide shut behind you, you straighten up and tidy your hair in the chromatic reflection until you're once again presentable. you brush off your outfit, fiddling until you're satisfied, then take a deep breath. snapping once to get your lightly confused companion's attention, your turn her shoulders towards you so she's making woozy and bewildered eye contact with you.

"hi honey. having a good night? good. this is how the rest of it is gonna go, ok? now you listen to me-"

when the doors opened again at the thirtieth floor, the girl (tracy. she had told you absently her name was tracy) waved distractedly over her shoulder as she walked straight out of the elevator bay and into the nearby stairwell, head filled with what she believed to be an immutable truth about the elevator being out of service. she'd walk back to her room (on the off chance there was anyone downstairs monitoring the floor indicator dial), wake up perfectly safe in the morning, and think nothing of it.

meanwhile, you let yourself into elvis' suite with the key tracy had handed over, a parting gift from the colonel. you left the lights off, made yourself comfortable on the couch facing the door, and waited.

you didn't have to wait long- just minutes later, there was noise outside, multiple male voices speaking over each other as they all piled out of the elevator and headed for the door, elvis' the loudest. "yeah, yeah, i said i'd meet you down there, didn't i? doin' my damn head in... i'll tell ya what, y'all g'head and i'll call down there when i'm done. yes i swear, now git!" laughter and good-natured ribbing faded as the elevator doors presumably closed behind the crowd once again, punctuated with a sigh and the click of the door lock disengaging another time.

elvis didn't seem to notice you as he walked in, leaving the light off as well as he patted his face dry with the damp towel looped around his neck. he leaned against the wall with one hand to brace himself as he toed off his boots, then whipped his dark shades off onto a side table and gripped the bridge of his nose with another deep sigh.

"are you in any pain, mr. presley?" he yelped in undignified surprise and whipped around with a touch of vampiric speed, dropping the towel in his fright to discover the source of your voice. despite the pitch blackness of the room, his eyes locked onto yours immediately through the dark, without needing to scan the empty space around you- another sign of his transition. no mortal could see as perfectly well in this scenario as the two of you could.

"wh- who-" he stuttered some, regaining his bearings, as you cocked your head in evaluation. "i'm sorry to startle you, mr. presley," you say evenly, but pleasantly. "you can drop that shit straightaway, honey, that's my daddy. can jus' call me elvis." he murmurs absentmindedly, as if it hadn't been what he really intended to say but came out by habit. "and now that you know me, may i ask who you are? and better yet what the hell you're doing in my room?" he doesn't sound angry, per se, more resigned than anything, and you smile wryly in response as you introduce yourself. "real pretty, honey, but i'd like an answer to my other question, too." he raises his eyebrow, and you wonder if he's even aware of how much charismatic mental energy he's leaking right now. it was even more apparent to you now why humans throw themselves at him left and right.

"sorry, m- i mean, elvis. the colonel sent me up. i saw your show- you were fantastic, but i had a couple questions." "he did, did he? just wonderful," he almost growls, squeezing his eyes shut. "and some questions, you said? you a reporter?" his voice sounds hard-edged for the first time tonight, but he seems to relax again when you answer with a simple no. "just concerned, i guess." he hums tiredly at your response, vague though it is. "concerned about what, 'bout the show? i'll do my best to answer your questions, honey, but i really don't think there's all too much to be concerned about-"

"elvis, when was the last time you fed?" you can hear his breath catch from clear across the room. "i-i had lunch after rehearsals, but i ain't had dinner yet, if that's what you're askin'... pretty forward way to ask me on a date, but i-" you put a hand up to cut him off. "i think you know perfectly well that's not what i'm asking, elvis. when was the last time you fed properly? on blood?" "...ha! been watching a little too many dark shadows reruns, honey?" his words trip over themselves getting out, and eventually he gives up to just blink at you, speechless, owl-eyed, and afraid despite his frankly pathetic attempt at a cover. he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar only this time the metaphorical cookie jar is a number of very literal human corpses lol

you bite back a sigh- perhaps you pushed too hard there. poor thing is wringing his hands like he thinks you're gonna put him in cuffs any minute. "maybe we should start over- i'm here to help, ok? i wanna make sure you're alright, cuz i think you might have a lot of questions nobody's explained to you yet. c'mere and sit next to me, baby, and we'll just talk" you pat the seat next to you, flipping his casual pet naming back on him effortlessly. to be fair, he is a baby to you- only, what, a couple months old? that's nothing compared to your few hundred years.

he eyes the spot next to you but shakes his head, still looking like a lost puppy. "n-no, i- m'fine over here," he manages. you furrow your brow; he's gonna need to start trusting you if he wants your help, and this is a bad way to begin. "i promise, i'm not gonna hurt you, elvis-" that sure does it. "i'm not worried about that!" he exclaims. "m'worried about me hurting you!"

you breathe out a surprised little oh, suddenly understanding. "is that what you're so worried about, sweetie? i'm not afraid of you." you try to placate him. "y-you should be afraid of me, honey. i am."

and that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? it breaks your heart a little to know that this is what he's been grappling with alone. it's not meant to be like this- with time and acceptance, he was meant to gain eternal companionship (your semi-loner status nonwithstanding). and whoever heard of a scared vampire?

but you put that aside to focus on elvis- and quickly realize there's one more... little thing you might've left out.

"you don't need to be anymore, ok? i'm gonna help you learn to control it." you beckon him over again, and this time he makes it halfway across the floor before you realize you're not sure if you're Compelling him or not. he'll need to learn what it feels like eventually, in order to both use it and combat it, but now's probably not the time. you break eye contact, just in case, and he falters slightly, but keeps coming, putting you at ease.

as he gets close enough to hear your heartbeat, though, his eyes suddenly turn frantic, and he backpedals, once again in the grip of that familiar terror. "you- you have to get out of here, i can't-" you shush him, not unkindly. "oh, sweetheart. that one's my bad, ok? i guess i haven't been very good at this so far," you grin apologetically. "but you couldn't hurt me, even if you tried"

you use your superspeed to whoosh over to his side and back, the only sign you'd moved at all the slight sway of your hair in the breeze it creates- and the golden ankh pendant now swinging from your upturned palm. elvis gapes, hands reaching up to feel the now-empty space around his neck where the necklace rested just moments ago. "how...?" listen i really can't be assed abt the fact he wasn't wearing necklaces this early ok. it was a cool move

"forgot to tell you - i'm souped up, too." you wink at him, flashing your pupils the deep red they turn when you're Feeding. "and also i think a little stronger than you, given what i saw on stage tonight." this is soo cliche im sorry but Spooky Eyes HAWT. i don't feel bad about it actually

the immediate sense of overwhelming relief on his face almost aches to see, and he's crossed the remaining stretch of floor to practically collapse in your arms sobbing before you can blink. it's... very surprising, you'll admit, but not unwelcome, either, and you're sure the uncertainty lingers in your voice as you gentle him softly, petting his hair and rubbing his back and trying not to overthink the fact that you've known elvis presley for all of ten minutes and now... this is happening. whatever this is.

"woah- woah, hey, what's happening? what's the matter, baby?" he's shaking like a leaf as you hold him, trying to work out in what universe this makes sense. "i-i-i ain't-" he manages through tears. "i haven't been able to touch any-anyone this whole time without b-being so goddamned afraid i'd hurt 'em... and i just- i..."

your worst fears for him, first materialized as you watched him onstage and puzzled about the identity of his Master, are confirmed. "baby... have you been alone this whole time?" you whisper. he just nods from his resting place, face buried in your shoulder. IS this a weird level of intimacy for 2 virtual strangers? totally yup. DO i still think its arguably valid considering how desperately lonely i have decided to make this bitch? uh huh :3

you suck in a breath through your teeth, suddenly filled with the fiery emotion you've been tamping down all night- rage. rage at whoever organized this hit, at whoever must be profiting off it while elvis suffers and innocent girls die, at the colonel who's been shepherding bodies in here endlessly and apparently without deigning to give elvis any proper help or training- yeah, don't think you forgot about him.

but before you can do anything about that, you have to do something with the king of rock 'n roll, who's finally quieting down in your lap. you shove the anger back down, the same way you do your bloodlust- the same way you'll teach elvis.

he sits back up, furiously wiping his tear-stained face. "sorry, honey- i don't know what came over me." he barks a laugh but his eyes tell you it's for show. you tut at him, standing up to fetch him a tissue and maybe a bottle of water, if you can find it- you're sure there must have been one waiting for him after the show. his eyes widen again, but before he has time for concern you cup his cheek to brush the last of his tears away with the pad of your thumb, accompanied by a gently chiding look that says i'm not going anywhere

he has enough time to look sheepish before you putter back over to him with your spoils, talking a mile a minute to distract him. "tch, enough of that! that's part of the change- everything you felt before is doubly strong now. it can be hard to separate your emotions sometimes, especially when you're not used to it. you'll feel everything differently now, and twice as hard."

he takes a moment to mull that over as he mops his face and chugs the water bottle, then nods as he meets your eyes again. "i didn't know that, but it sounds- it feels right. what else can ya tell me?" you chuckle darkly, stretching out on the couch. "oh, just bunches, baby. get comfortable, cuz i know you've got questions- and i've got your answers."

over the course of the night, you explain everything to elvis- how he was Turned, the changes his body's going through, all the symptoms and abilities he'll experience now, why he's feeling the way he is, his options for feeding, how his habits need to change if he intends to keep going like this... it's a laborious process, given how little he knows and how much he thinks he does- he's already got a lot of misconceptions to retrain.

"hey, maybe you're the one who's been watching too many dark shadows reruns lately!" you mean it as a joke, but he flushes. "well, s'not like there's a, a handbook or anythin'! i've been tryin' to study up!" you burst out laughing, and he laughs with you.

at one point he orders up dinner for the two of you, which provides the perfect opportunity for you to offer him a creature comfort- "food? yeah, you can eat food. it won't sustain you, but you're free to eat for pleasure." at his pained look, you give him a knowing smirk. "i bet it tastes nasty right now, doesn't it?" he nods glumly, eyeing your super-rare hamburger, and you chuckle, eyeing him as you take an exaggerated bite. he groans in annoyance, and you laugh as you lick your fingers clean. "don't worry- that'll pass. it's your instincts' way of telling you that you're malnourished- kind of a deterrent from stuff that won't actually keep you alive. you'll be back to your peanut butter and banana in no time, promise." he cheers, and orders up a bottle of champagne, just for that.

"that's another thing- we metabolize differently. your system can tell the difference between the liquid calories it needs and the solid calories you're feeding it just for fun. you won't derive any energy from human food, so you can't gain weight. no reason to store fat," you shrug. "but it also means-" you clink your champagne glass with his in a mock toast, "-you can't get drunk." he sputters, "well, why'd you even let me order the bubbly then?? this shit's expensive, so they tell me!" "i like the way it sparkles! it tickles my nose!"

the hours come and go, but the two of you barely notice, so wrapped up in your conversation. that's another thing you explain- how he'll need much less rest now, if he keeps himself healthy, but that until he's being nourished properly he'll be fatigued and need to sleep pretty much like before. he admits that he was practically nocturnal beforehand, anyway- he hadn't even noticed this one change among so many more pressing.

his drapes were heavy-duty, but you could see just the barest sliver of skyline out the window as the sun began to rise. "it's almost dawn," you whisper, conscious of the fact that the vampire before you is very young, and has had a very long night. a very long month, to be perfectly honest. he hums from where his head is resting on your thigh- you'd encouraged him to lie down an hour ago when he kept breaking off his sentences to yawn hugely. actually, you'd encouraged him to get some rest and you'd talk more later, but he'd refused to go to bed, assuring you he wasn't tired 't all, just sore from the show- he got muscle aches, you know, and he needed to stretch out. you hadn't been convinced then, and you were even less so now, keeping a fond eye on him (fond?? when had that happened) as he drowsed in your lap.

his end of the conversation had started lagging about the same time you started running your hand through his hair, until he was practically purring in contentment. you huffed in amusement. "more like a kitty cat than a bat, i think." he cocked an eyebrow and grinned salaciously, though he didn't open his eyes. "oh honey, i'll show you a cat... a pussycat, to be precis-" "HEY!" you swatted him teasingly and he snickered, settling down again. "keep it clean, presley." "yes, Master." you paused in your ministrations at that, just long enough for his brow to furrow. "you don't have to call me that." "yeah... but can i? i mean, would'ya mind if i-?" his voice was quiet, but sincere. "...ok. but only if you want to." he can hear the smile in your voice without looking, and it makes him smile, too.

"you do have a real one out there, y'know." "i know. but they ain't ever helped me none- all they've done for me is turn my life upside down and leave again. but you... hell, honey, i've only known you one night, and already things are starting to feel right side up again." you sit with that for just long enough to feel pleased before you reach down to tweak his nose. he giggles, and your bid to give the both of you a break from being so fucking earnest goes off without a hitch. the tension stays broken, but the tranquil mood remains.

"guess you're stuck with me again- i can't make it all the way home in that," you venture eventually, nodding at the lone streak of sun making its way past the blackout curtains to pool on the floor behind the piano. luckily far out of the way, or he might've had a particularly unpleasant awakening of his own, had he stumbled through the patch accidentally. he shifts minutely, well on his way to sleep by now. "mm, sounds jus' awful," he drawls, answer delayed only slightly by the fact that he's snoozing, his voice is so quiet that without your enhanced senses you'd have to strain to hear it. "can't imagine quite how i'll make it through if you've gotta stick around s'more." "even dead to the world, you maintain your sense of humor, huh, baby? and those lady-killer tendencies, i see" "yeah, well, i have killed quite a few lad-" "elvis!" you laugh, scandalized, as he huffs a laugh as well as he leverages himself up to sitting.

he rubs his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. "s'pose that's my way of asking real tactful... what happens next?" "well, first we've gotta detox you." "what, from the blood? i thought you said-" "nope, not from the blood. from the drugs in the blood." "from the w-" he gapes, looking shocked and hurt, and also a little appalled at himself. "i really am sorry to break it to you, sweetheart- there's a lot going on with you right now, and only some of it is due to... this," you reach up a hand to thumb at one of his fangs, which had slipped out as soon as you started talking about blood. "the rest of it is a combination of the vegas lights and whoever up top orchestrated the whole thing." he nods slowly, expression inscrutable. "we'll take it slow, i promise. ok?" "yeah," he nods more steadily now. "yeah, i trust you."

"well, then, mr. presley- are you ready?" he nods his head as if on instinct, then has the decency to look confused. "ready for what?" you smile, fangs out. "to start getting you fixed up... so we can take down those bastards responsible for this." he just stares at you a moment before a slow grin starts to take over his face, eyes darkening to match the quite literally bloodthirsty expression in yours.

"let's get to it."

#blurb #ask #goddamn will they EVER let each other finish a sentence.???#sorry dialogue is Not my forte 🙈 im a prose kinda girlie hardcore #also yahhhh i just kind of . totally abandoned the ending to cater to my h/c fantasies. sorry not sorry 😎#halfway thru the second block of bullets i realized the hc format was completely pointless and i had basically written a full fic #on the other hand im nothing if not a stubborn bitch so.. not changing the formatting now.!#if u think about this too hard u start to see a lot of plot holes #or at least further questions about the specificities of vamp lore in this au #to that i would recommend u pls ignore them 🥰#GODDD i started writing this directly in the ask. like a fucking FOOL #knowing FULL WELL how this stupid post editor not only eats ask drafts for breakfast and spits out their bones #but ALSO that the even STUPIDER copy/paste restrictions would hit #since theres a character block limit separate from the character POST limit 🙄#so ive had this tab open for almost a week and have just been walking on eggshells around my laptop praying to not lose it dfghj #MASSIVE SIGH OF RELIEF TO POST IT TBH #also smitty ive got a sidenote for u as well but its gonna go on main lmao. one sec #oh god............ just realized i did the ff.net thing with the in-text ANs 😳😳#pOST CANCELLED; EVERYBODY GO HOME

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kagejima · 2 years

Note

Please, every Waka Wednesday you have me giggling, squealing, kicking my feet and like >:(

BRO I'M TRYING TO GET MY BOYFRIEND TO BELIEVE IM A DOM YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME

Okay okay but I'm currently in an apprenticeship for a body peircer and... Peircer Toshi as mentor. He wasn't really looking to mentor anyone until he saw how cute and sweet the newbie was. Everyone else at the studio wasn't interested or already had an apprentice and as soon as he saw your face fall he hopped on that real quick.

Of course you immediately were terrified of this 6' 2 mass of pure muscle but the way he stumbled through his greeting had heat pooling in your gut. You thanked him constantly for agreeing to help you out.

Another thing that some places require for a mentorship is that they to have at least a piercing or two. It doesn't matter if it's ears or anything but let's say that reader got them as a baby. Since they don't remember the pain, they want a new addition. Obviously, nipple piercings. Reader gets Toshi to do it and he can't help but feel his cock stir when he first sees you topless. Well, not topless but rather shirtless, your top was the one piercing you after all. (Hshjfjdkb why was this so funny to me)

Anyway, you finish your apprenticeship and get a job at the same place. One of the first clients wants a dick piercing and you're like "Wow, okay, sure." Since you've never done or seen it before you ask if the guy if you can have your mentor there to make sure you don't fuck up. They guy would rather you not botch it so he agrees obviously.

So Ushijima comes in and sees red when they guy bites his lip to suppress a moan when he sees your pretty little hand steadying his dick. When you're finished the guy thanks you, pays and leaves his number for you.

Ushijima is pissed. This rando thinks he has a shot with you? He must be joking. As the guy leaves you turn around and you can feel the hatred rolling off of Toshi. You ask him if he's alright and he tries his best to keep calm but he growls out "Just peachy."

A few more days go by an eventually he's like "fuck it" and asks you to dinner to congratulate working there for a week. The dinner goes great and an hour later, you find yourself fucked dumb against the wall but Toshi shows no signs of stopping even though you've already been pushed over the edge 3 times.

UGH, just possessive piercer Toshi brainrot.

(I'm gonna sign off with ��)

YOUR SECOND SENTENCE MADE ME CHOKE ON MY OREOS WHEN I READ IT 💀💀💀 my apologies hehehhehehe 😁

OKAY BUT LISTEN

the scene from 1:03 to 1:30 IS ALL I CAN THINK OF WHEN ANONS SHOW UP WITH SPICY THINGS LIKE THIS FJSJJFJD

i swear to god, phoebe is yall coming into my inbox and telling me the scenario thats SO FUCKING GOOD and im rachel and im just like "whO IS THIS?? 😫😫"

anyways omg i love talking about piercer!toshi, ill talk about piercer!toshi until i die, i love that everybody has been so on board with him being a piercer since i wrote that fic hehehehe

also PUHLEEEEAASE become a regular in my ask box, omg, i wanna be your friend based on this entire thing alone 🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️

just a reminder for everyone, this is NOT linked to "breathe in, breathe out"! only similarity is toshi is a piercer!

more thoughts under the cut (female reader, a smidge of dacryphilia, jealous toshi, kinda rough sex?, hair pulling)

It's your job.

It's not like he caught you fucking the guy on the table.

At least that's what Wakatoshi is trying to tell himself right now while he's absolutely wrecking your shit.

He can't help it though. All he can still see is you holding some other guy's dick in your hand.

He knows he probably should feel bad right now, because you're hiccuping and sobbing and begging him to give you a minute because your legs can't stop trembling as they're locked up and near his chest because he's held you there for so long.

He knows he probably should let you down and let you rest.

You look so fucking cute though all whiney and sobby like this.

He isn't a monster though.

So he lets you down.

And you think you're in the clear - maybe you can finally rest on his bed, maybe you can ride him a little bit, let him relax--

But no, he's far from done.

You yelp when he spins you around, bending you over so fast that your hands fly out to catch yourself so you don't fall right into the wall.

Wakatoshi groans low as he pushes his thick cock back deep inside you, and he shuts his eyes as your walls clamp down around him.

You stay still like that, wondering what he's going to do next.

You shiver when his hand reaches up and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling on it hard to get you to lift your head to look up at him.

And he sees it in your eyes.

Sees how you like it rough like this.

He doesn't see that guy anymore.

#ushijima smut #ushijima #HEHEHEHE I AM ON A FUCKING ROLL TODAY WOOOOOO!!!!!!#😠: rae's wakatoshi wednesdays #rae's wakatoshi wednesday august 10 2022 #🎤: 🍠 anon is recording vocals #🎶: here comes the queue

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bitegore · 2 months

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hello, im currently making a sort-of remake of your Blorbo Bleebus template (both to make a higher resolution image, darkmode version and transparent versions) and am debating making some changes to it (e.g. changing fruity to queer). Are there any changes you would make nowadays if you could?

originally put this at the end but the post got long so i'm moving it up here. Anyway I really appreciate you doing this and I also appreciate you reaching out about it. If you think I'm full of shit on any or all of the lines, feel free to completely ignore it, I don't mind. I would love to see your version when you're done! Good luck!

Anyway. Honestly I'd probably change up a lot of it - all of the elements were from various memes, and not all of them are in fashion. The only reason fruity is even on there (I don't particularly like the word myself either) is because the original meme that spawned the entire thing (including the idea of it being a blorbo rating system) was from a wine-flavor label - and thus "fruity" was a particularly awkward choice of a word for it to try to say "this tastes like grapes" lol. I don't think almost anyone who saw the sheet had seen that, though, or knew much about wine tasting (no shade, me either), so like a bunch of the other jokes it falls flat to basically everyone lmao.

These are what I would change. You don't have to do any of these, of course. But it's the ones I'd do. Sorry for how much it bounces around, most of them are just "the first thing i thought of after looking at the sheet again" so it's kind of random and not well organized.

#1: "Flavor Container" turned out to be a much more niche thing than I thought it was; replace it with something that gets at the idea of a character being an "archetype" or "really conentrated" amount of that kind of thing that works better and has more broad-spectrum immediate understanding Or just like, some other type of character-describing meme, up to you

#2: someone pointed out (rightly!) that there is one gender-specific subtype (himbo) on there but no female-specific gender subtype, and that the cat meme i put in as placeholder text on the character box uses he/him pronouns, which both kind of push it toward being gender-specific even though that wasn't what I had wanted. I'd either switch Himbo out for a more recent and less gendered meme or add a female-gendered meme (eg: "girlboss", "butch fatale", etc) to even out the subtypes, and swap out the pronouns on the cat meme for they/them instead of he/him. Might also be worthwhile to switch the bar option for "just some guy" for something like "just some rando" but honestly that doesn't have the same energy; I don;t think there is a properly gender-neutral equivalent for 'guy' that i can think of that won't sound forced and as long as it's not directed at anyone in particular I think that one can be left alone. Tbh if you're switching fruity out you should almost definitely also do these.

#3. i'm pretty sure calling things skrunkly is on its way out, i'd come up with a more recent meme adjective for the name spot i think

#4. one of the bars in the middle of the page goes between "1,000 tools" and "1,000 weapons", which (because I expected at most 30 notes) I figured would be similarly comprehensible to flavor container. It's meant to reflect an outlook on life, ie, do they build things up to solve problems or do they attack and tear down their problems? I don't think this is a very effective set and also it's not a good joke, so it's probably best to put something else there.

#5. the "you want them to have" section is clunky and not very good, which is because that was the last part i did when I made it and I rushed it because I was bored of the project by then. I think there are a lot more interesting things to talk about than "do they have sex" "do they have romance" "do they have friends" and "did you hate their ending specifically" BUT also i have been informed that this is the shipping website and I'm not really a huge shipper, so my lack of interest in most of the contents of those boxes might not be reflective of everyone else's! Please use your best judgement here, if you like that bit then you can absolutely keep it. That being said I think it would be interesting to get into something like "tropes" instead, switching out the idea of like, desirable plot beats for the character with like, desirable common storytelling tropes or something to suhove the character into, or genres, or w/e. it would also suit the rest of the sheet better. i also think it would be more fun to be filling in boxes like "go in the dark" and "bonk on head with giant mallet" and "hunted for sport" than "more romance" and "less romance", if you follow me lol

#6. The idea of the slider bars is fine, but the shape is apparently kind of tough for people to work with unless they're confident drawing digitally in some way, so intead of doing a straight black line with a black line down the center, I would do an outlined bar with a black line down the center, sort of like the below. I think this will be easier for people to fill in with a paint bucket tool or w/e and hopefully save some wrists.

#7. I keep seeing comments asking for it to be a fillable PDF as well, which is like, not something I am capable of making if I'm honest. I don't do PDFs. No idea if you do, but if you do have the ability, it might be a solid plan to make it as a PDF first so it can be converted into a fillable PDF somehow. I took a stab at doing that yesterday but then i got frustrated and bored and gave up lol.

#8. tbh if you're making it a bigger resolution this might not be an issue but the text is really kind of small. I'd probably change the image ratio and scale a lot of the text up, sort of like this (sorry i am not working on a computer where i have robust photo editing tools or the original file so i am just sort of cutting it up in photopea with my mouse so it looks kind of jank). The reason for this is because the program I made it in just sort of opened with a printer-paper-sized page and i went "cool, I can work with that" and didn't change it. But when sharing and posting it, it becomes hard to read.

(this also doesnt really work... i'm not very good at optimizing things for post-readability ;-;)

#9. the slider between "stupid as shit" and "scary-smart" isnt that good, i'd swap it for "not the..." and "sharpest tool in the shed" respectively, because i think that that is more fun. or something along those lines

#10. I already said I would change this bit out entirely, but if you do keep the "you want them to have" section mostly as-is, the last eight or so don't really fit with what's already there - "freedom", "catharsis", "justification", "The Realization", "revenge", "conseequences", "sympathy" and "a satisfying ending" are about the writing the character is situated in, but "a better/worse time", "better/worse situation", "more/less trauma", "more/less healing", "more/less/different romance", "more/less/different sex", "more/less/different friends", "painful isolation" and "a family" are about relationships and emotional experiences the character is having in-universe. I guess you could leave freedom, revenge and consequences in there, but they don't really suit it well. I'd either switch the last handful for things that fit the theme (and also the more/less/different/none scheme), or make the entire thing center around the writing choices in the original narrative they're from.

#11. If you're redoing it from the ground up, you also get to pick a better font... I badly wish I had done all the titles in Impact (the meme font, you know the one) because I think it would've been funny. I probably would've put like, "bottom text" at the very bottom of the page too but that's probably not as funny to anyone who isn't me. I didn't want to bother tweaking it when I finished it, so it has NBOS's default font (I think it was Arial Black?) instead.

#12. I'd probably switch "soft and sweet" to "cinnamon roll", i've seen that one make a comeback recently and also it's so old that the fact that it's out of date brings some kind of humor to it along with it in a way that "soft and sweet" doesn't really do.

#13. "aspirational character" doesn't really do anything in the subclass list anyway - it's not interesting or funny and much of what it covers is also covered by "just like you fr" and "braincell haver", so i'd also replace that one with a more interesting recent character meme.

#14. tbh the checkboxes underneath the picture box were me taking a bunch of potshots at Batman specifically (well, besides murderer, but that was beacuse I needed another line). In the spirit of it, if you have a particularly common Kind of blorbo that other people keep putting on your dash nowadays, it would probably make sense to take their traits and put them in there instead until if you check all of them off you get that character instead. Keep it updated and fresh and fun and all that lol.

Also - last things-

please don't write me in as the "original creator" or w/e - I was cribbing so much from so many other people and places that I don't really feel like it's worth crediting it all to me, all I did was grid it out. No idea if that was part of your plan but if it was like. don't worry about it, if it wasn't, then that's great because that works for both of us :D

understand if you're not interested or don't want it, but if it would be helpful, I can send you a probably way higher resolution version than is floating around on Tumblr if you like - the program I made it with was designing it to be a printable sheet so it's a high enough resolution that the edgtes would all print nice and crisply, I think Tumblr just has a maximum image size and my layout didn't work very well with it lmao

#red replies #Anonymous #WILD #im still just astounded that people even liked it in the first place

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milkblogging · 2 years

Photo

BATTLE OF THE MILKS

big m egg flip (vanilla & cinnamon) VS brownes dairy cinny bun (cinny bun.) this is gonna be a milkbath everyone.

packaging:

okay so obviously these milks are going for different vibes. we got the egg themed yellows and orange on EF, and that’s perfectly serviceable. but i really gotta give it to CB here. that lovely baby blue combined with the sapphire banner? those brownes milk lashings that i love? the cute little swirlies? brownes really nails the packaging of the three flavoured milks they produce. points to big m for their cute font and the charming milk splash though. apparently if you acknowledge your milk somewhere on the package youve got my vote.

flavour/aroma

EF smells kind of unknowable. honestly it smells vaguely like Banana Milk, which can only be referred to in deity-like caps. meanwhile, you get a real cinnamon punch from CB.

ok let’s get into it. EF is a highly hyped milk. this shit sells out of the shelves. this shit’s second coming has basically been written in the scriptures for how much begging there was for it on the big m facebook page. you’d have like a rando aprils fool post being like wE gOt DiRt MiLk CoMiNg and everyone in the goddamn comments will be like cool where’s egg flip.

that all being said, egg flip is VERY NICE. its got a gentle amount of sweet spice. it’s got the subtlest vanilla winking coyly at you from the back of the room. it’s just straight up Nice. EF asserts my feelings that milk is not necessarily meant to be refreshing. if you want refreshment, go get a smoothie. a boost juice. but if you want a nice cosy weather beverage and you’re not a hot milky fan, get this. egg flip is like a christmas custard.

in regards to CB, i do not know if i consider cinnamon scrolls the iconic australian food, but sure why not.

the POUR on CB was exciting. im starting to learn that brownes has a very creamy formula in general that i enjoyed on the caramilk, but it’s a bit heavy for this flavour. on first sip, it’s not overwhelmingly sweet. its not bad! honestly, im not the biggest cinnamon fan, and i think the fact that i noticed that here instead of with EF means this has a stronger cinnamon flavour. i feel like i get a real cinnamon powder aftertaste in my mouth.

i must say though. if you’re going for cinny bun over cinnamon you may need to commit. it’s not like im tasting butter here. its not like im going hm yeah im really getting the dough and the swirls. but that’s alright brownes. much love.

lastly, i very much enjoy the little spicy flecks you can see IN the milk. feels right feels organic. i guess some people might think they look like idk, dirt or bugs, but personally i say those people need to cut open a vanilla bean pod and enjoy life.

conclusion:

frankly, egg flip wins. it’s just got a nicer blend. im not sure i 100% get the egg flip hype but it sure is a nice friendly milk. cinny bun is perfectly good too, but the consistency lets it down a little.

some final milk for thoughts: what is an egg flip really? did they ever consider putting booze in the milk? why is it cinny bun not cinny bunny? in fact, heck, why is it cinny at all? ive been hiding it well but as it turns out i actually hate this abbreviation.

also, shoutout to maddy, who suggested comparison posts! and shoutout to the wife, who drank a toffee nut latte on the same day as the egg flip purchase. (it sucked. lol.)

ratings:

egg flip: 8/10 milks

cinny bun: 6.5/10 milks

repurchase?

yes to the flip, no to the flop. NO IM KIDDING but yeah. no

#big m #brownes dairy

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thetomorrowshow · 3 years

Text

a jig in plaited time

Happy holidays, @under-the-blue-moonlight ! I really enjoyed writing up some intrulogical content for you (and this may actually get additional chapters lol, I’m really happy with it).

Here is your @sanderssidesgiftxchange gift!

ships: Intrulogical, background Royality

cw: anxiety, intrusive thoughts, panic attack, mannequins, mentions of food

Why was Remus at the mall?

That was a simple question, with a just as simple answer. He was at the mall for a suit and tie, one he needed for his brother's wedding. It needed to be “salmon” or whatever, with a blue tie.

A much less simple answer was to the next question.

Why was Remus at the mall on Black Friday?

In all honesty, Remus hadn't known about Black Friday until he arrived. He hadn't really had a good feeling about it on the way here, but he'd paid no mind to his instincts. He didn't often have a good feeling about anything. There had been far too many cars for this time of morning on a weekday. What had really tipped him off, though, was the huge sign in the window of Nordstrom's.

'BLACK FRIDAY SALE!'

Even at that point he wasn't entirely sure what that meant. It became far more clear when he entered the building to find it absolutely packed. Well, there could be an upside to this. Maybe there would be a sale on the suit he needed.

Remus hadn't been this close to someone since he was in the womb, and he could not say that he was very comfortable with it. Remus didn't care much for close spaces and touching people, he hadn't since middle school. It just made him feel sort of icky.

As soon as possible, he ducked out of Nordstrom's, only to find that the rest of the mall was in a similar condition. JC Penney actually looked worse. Normally when Remus was feeling overwhelmed, he'd sidle into Hot Topic or somewhere else with obnoxiously loud music. By drowning his feelings in the noise, he generally was able to recollect himself. The mall was certainly loud, but not in a good way at all. Even if he tried to find someplace with music, he wouldn't be able to enjoy it with all these people.

Remus was stressed. But he needed this suit, seeing as his brother's wedding was literally tomorrow. Why did he leave it this late? Well, Remus knew he was nothing if not a master procrastinator. He also knew he couldn’t be the only one.

Remus waded his way through the crowd to a relatively people-free corner and wiggled his phone out of the pockets of his definitely too-small jeans (not that he'd admit they were too small out loud—his brother had told him they were on every occasion he wore them) and texted the wedding group chat.

Remus: hey im at the mall. anything yall need?

Robro: Why are you at the mall on black friday?

Patty-Cake: ooh can you get me a pair of sunglasses? Mine broke last week

Remus: sure. stuff for wedding?

Robro: idk. Let me ask mom

Remus shoved his phone back in his pocket, then extracted it again as it buzzed a moment later.

Robro: Yeah mom says get some classy decor or something

Ant: I don't think remus knows what classy means

Remus: shut up i got this

Toby: wait what's going on? It's like 10am why are you all awake

Robro: idk if you knew this tobes but I'm getting married tomorrow

Toby: shut up man

Ant: even Remy knows

Sleep: even i know loser

Remus: toby do u need help

Toby: I hate it heeere

Patty-Cake: Aw Toby that isn't very nice! And good morning everyone!

Robro: hello sunshine!! <3

Sleep: i need you both to not start that

Remus: get a room dorks

Okay, classy decor. Sunglasses for the groom. Pink suit. Blue tie. Probably some dress shoes. A wedding present. Dress socks too. Did Remus need to have a tie pin? He'd ask later. Napkins, definitely. No one ever had enough napkins at events. Did he need to have a pocket handkerchief?

Remus checked the list of what his suit needed that Roman had sent him a month or two ago. Yes, a blue pocket square. This was a lot.

Remus swallowed back his sudden panic and took a few deep breaths, jamming his still-buzzing phone back into his pocket. He could do this. Sunglasses first, there was a Sunglasses Hut within eyesight. All he had to do was fight through the crowd.

He reached the kiosk with few incidents and surveyed the sleek glasses for five minutes before seeing a pair that were shaped like a cartoon frog. Patton would love those. And if he didn't, then Remus just got a neat pair of sunglasses! He purchased the glasses and moved on to the next place to conquer.

By the time Remus was back at Nordstrom's, he was completely out of energy. Nordstrom's had two levels, and so much stuff, and so many people. He still had to get the suit and socks, and the wedding present. Maybe it seemed like he hadn't done much, but he had actually done a lot, considering how busy the mall was. He'd barely escaped a fistfight outside of the electronics store. The fact that he'd been able to get shoes and so-called 'classy decor' and napkins? Remus was pretty proud, all things considered.

Nordstrom's was even busier than when he left, which was certainly distressing. Remus couldn't even see any clothes. Was that a mannequin or a really tall lady? Was that the escalator, or a bunch of people climbing on top of each other?

What if I set off a bomb right here? Would the whole tower fall down, the ones on top not actually hurt until they hit the ground?

Remus shook off the intrusive thought. This was getting bad. It was already almost one—that meant that not only was he stressed, but he was getting hungry. His thoughts would continue to devolve until he got out of here and got some food.

I could eat that man! That would certainly clear the place out, and I'm sure he's delicious!

Remus groaned. He needed to sit down, but there were no seats free anywhere. He hefted his bags higher on his shoulders and forged on. He had to get this suit, or else the wedding would be ruined. The man in question (who was fairly attractive) bumped him, and Remus had to close his eyes to fight his brain. This was getting out of hand.

There was a little square cut out in the wall where a headless mannequin stood, no doubt showing off the latest in boys' fashion. Remus ducked between its legs and pushed his back up against the wall, knees drawn up close to his chest. He pulled out his phone with some difficulty.

Remus: hey so ro does my suit need a tie pin

Robro: Don't worry abt it, mom got matching tie pins for everyone

Sleep: ree babes are you buying ur suit now?

Remus: shut up

Sleep: on black friday?

Remus: no

Ant: did you even know it was black friday

Remus: ...

Toby: wait the wedding is tmrrw

Robro: Believe me tobias I'm aware

Remus: yah ik im not buying the whole suit just shoes

Robro: Good I almost had a heart attack, you almost certainly wouldn't be able to find one

Now truly panicking, Remus dropped his phone onto his stomach and buried his fists in his hair. How was he supposed to find a salmon suit and a blue tie, as well as nice socks? Plus a wedding present? Especially in this crowd, when he had no clue where to even look for a suit. And he still had to go to the party tonight, then the wedding tomorrow, and it was so loud. Everyone was yelling over each other, and Remus couldn't even hear his own thoughts—except the bad ones. Why did he have to put this off so long? He needed out, he wasn't going to be able to get any of the stuff, he was going to ruin the wedding, like he ruined everything—

“Hello, may I help you?”

Remus looked up—at least, as up as he could look, with a mannequin just above him—to see a bespectacled store clerk looking down at him. 'Logan', his nametag read.

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it again before a string of curses could come out. He really wasn't doing well. There was just too much, too much everything.

“Is there anything I can help you find?” Logan asked, his voice rumbling a bit—or maybe it was the thunder of people in the shop. Whatever it was, it made Remus's stomach drop a little.

“Um, uh, pink!” If Remus had any shame, he would have slapped his own face. As it was, he started trying to pantomime a suit while stuck in a tiny hollow in the wall. Logan watched kindly, his face not betraying the disgust he was probably feeling.

“Pink what? Shirt?” Logan guessed. Remus shook his head, running his hands down his legs. Pants too, pants too.

“Pink . . . coat? Shorts? Pants?”

Remus traced back over his arms, almost crying. Here he was, bothering this poor clerk with his stupid non-verbal self.

“A pink suit?”

Remus jumped for joy, hitting his head on the crotch of the mannequin, instantly shuddering at the thoughts that flooded into his head. Logan held out a hand, and Remus took it, allowing himself to be pulled out of the wall.

“I can direct you to the suit section, right this way.”

Remus let himself be led by Logan, who occasionally looked back to make sure he was still there. The man had a curly mop of dark hair, and was slightly shorter than he was—not that it was a problem. Or anything important. Remus wasn't looking for a date. He was inconveniencing a store clerk on Black Friday. Although, he did need a plus one for the wedding. . . .

No, it was out of the question. He didn't even know this man. Roman would be upset if he ruined the wedding even more by showing up with some rando who would probably jump in the wedding cake or spill food all over the nice tablecloths or turn out to be really ugly because he was just wearing a mask made of someone else's face.

“Here is where the suits are. Do you need anything else?”

Remus stared at him, his mouth opening and shutting a few times. He wanted to say something stupid, like yeah, I need those eyes in my life, or something far more obscene, but he was okay. He could do this. He could survive peopling.

Logan gave him a sympathetic smile. “I can help you find the right suit, if that's what you require.”

Before he could stop himself, Remus was nodding. He let Logan pull him past a crying couple and two arguing families to a rack of suit coats that were red.

“Will these suffice?” the clerk asked, gesturing at them. Remus frowned. They weren't pink. Was the man messing with him? Seeing his look, Logan checked the tag and groaned. “Apologies, I'm colorblind. I could have sworn these were pink. Hopefully the last customer who I pointed this way was not upset.”

That was a joke, right? Remus almost laughed, but knew if he did he would start crying. Logan led him through the crowd with seemingly unending patience, occasionally smiling gently at him. Remus felt his heartrate spike every time one of those smiles was sent his way, but for a reason completely unrelated to the overpowering noise and crowd.

Logan found him a probably very nice pink suit—Remus wasn't really looking at it. Then Logan was kind enough to let him into an employee restroom to try it on, seeing as the dressing rooms had a line that ran all the way to the front doors. It fit nicely, tight (though not as tight as his jeans) and sleek, accompanied with a blue tie that Logan had found while he was changing.

“That looks very sharp on you, sir,” Logan informed him, as Remus blushed.

“Remus,” he blurted out. Logan raised his eyebrows.

“After the character in Roman mythology?” asked Logan, his tone betraying something like excitement. Remus nodded, then looked down at the tie.

“We—didn't look at—at ties yet,” he stammered, trying to make his voice work. “Where—?”

“Ah, it happens to be one of mine,” Logan said. For the first time, he looked a little uncomfortable. “I keep one in my locker for emergencies, and I thought it would look nice on—it would look nice. With the suit.”

Remus finally found the courage to smile back. “Thanks, Specs. Uh, sorry for taking up so much of your time. I'll just buy this, it's dope.”

“Oh no, I do not at all mind assisting you,” Logan said quickly. “At least I don't have to deal with . . . whatever is going on.”

“You could assist me by being my date!”

Logan stared.

Remus clapped a hand over his mouth.

“. . . What?”

“Nothing, nothing nothing,” said Remus. “I just—um—you need to get your tie back right? And I—if you let me, of course—I could just wear it, save money and all that, and you could come and then take it home so that I don't steal it or whatever?” He scrunched his eyes up, turning away so as to catch no sight of Logan rejecting him. Why did he have to say that? The noise pressed down on him again; despite still being in the staff restroom, it was almost too loud to bear.

“Wear it . . . where?”

Remus would already be curled up on the floor were it not for the very un-purchased suit he was currently wearing. “Um, my brother's wedding tomorrow?” he chanced, hands clenched over his eyes.

The utter disbelief in Logan's voice was clear as a bell. “You are buying a suit . . . for a wedding . . . that is tomorrow. On Black Friday, of all days.”

Tears choked Remus's throat. “Y-yeah, I'm really bad at planning.” Why was he even asking this cute clerk out anyway? Just because Roman kept teasing him for not having a date to the wedding? Or did he actually have a crush on Logan?

He searched his feelings briefly, and found almost instantly that he for sure had a crush. Okay, that was a lot to deal with right now. They had just met! It was just . . . the way he smiled at him, the way he didn't abandon him even though he'd been having a panic attack for about an hour at this point, how gentle and kind he was. Not to mention how put-together he was. And his hair? That was just hot.

Now though, just seconds after realizing he liked Logan, the guy was going to reject him because he had run his stupid mouth. Remus cringed. The silence had gone on for far too long.

“Well, I expect you to pick me up an hour before the event begins. I do not currently have my own means of transportation. You are quite fortunate that I do not work tomorrow.”

Wait.

What?

“You—you really—?” Remus's voice broke. He jumped as Logan lay a warm hand over his own, which were still pressed into his eyes.

“Of course,” Logan said kindly. “I know very little about you, but I rather feel that—and no offense meant—you will be distressed at such a large event as a wedding. I would love to continue to assist you.” He coughed, then added, “Also, the streak in your hair is very attractive.”

Remus almost sighed in relief. This was okay. He let Logan pull his hands away from his face, then ran a sleeve over his eyes and nose. Logan froze.

“Well, now you have to buy that suit,” Logan said. As an aside, he muttered, “At least it looks good on you.”

“Aw, Lo, you think I look hot?” Remus asked shakily, managing a smile. “What about my jeans? Think I look good in tight clothes?”

Logan turned away, unfortunately letting go of Remus's hands, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Are you always this insufferable?”

Remus slung an arm around his shoulder. “Yep! And you're stuck with me for a whole date!”

Logan pushed his glasses up his nose. “If it doesn't work out, we can just pretend we never met, if you like. We will both move on with our lives. There is no obligation that comes with this date, we are both free to back out at any time.”

Remus quickly retracted his arm from Logan's shoulder, then nodded. That made sense. He did like Logan, and he didn't want to upset him. Shameless flirting was definitely on the table, though.

“When's your lunch break?” Remus asked, as casually as possible. Logan snorted.

“I only have a twenty minute lunch today, they don't want me to leave them without as much help as possible.” Logan went to open the door and exit the restroom, then glanced back. “One o'clock. I plan on getting a sandwich at the Subway in the hall outside of the store. It would be wonderful if someone would wait in line for me and order me an Italian BMT and a bag of potato chips, so that I am not late in returning.”

Remus grinned. Easy-peasy, and just like that he would get to spend some time with Logan before the wedding.

Logan made to leave, but Remus grabbed his arm. “One sec, hot stuff,” he said, butterflies racing through his stomach at Logan's blush, “not to bother you any more or anything, but do you have any suggestions for a wedding present?”

The utter disbelief on Logan's face completely wiped out any blush that had been there. “The wedding is tomorrow, Remus.”

Remus's breath caught. Logan said his name. It sounded so beautiful coming from him. If a heavenly chorus had been singing around him at that moment, it would have been dull compared to Logan saying his name.

Logan sighed. “Of course I have some ideas. Do you need anything else?”

Remus pulled himself together, then grabbed his phone from the pile of his clothes on the floor. He checked the list, ignoring the notifications from the group chat.

“Uh, yeah. A pocket square to match the tie, and some nice socks.”

“That's doable. Tell me about your brother and his partner while we find those items. Perhaps you and I can put together an ideal gift.” Logan stepped out of the restroom to give Remus privacy while he changed back into his clothes. Remus shucked the suit off as quickly as possible. All the intense stimulation had blurred into the background, Logan being the only buzz he needed to keep going.

Remus didn't often have a good feeling about anything, but this? Oh yeah, there was definitely something good here.

#sanders sides gift exchange #sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sides #ts #remus sanders #ts remus #logan sanders #ts logan #sanders sides fic #remus is a disaster gay #he also has social anxiety which influences his intrusive thoughts #i wrote a couple of my own habits/mannerisms into him #like the fact that when he gets really anxious he plays loud music to drown it out!#it's such a calming thing that i rarely see people write about #and it feels sort of weird that he gets anxious when the surroundings are too loud #when he uses loud music to calm down #but that's just literally me #projection city: population me #also ash i sent you an ask forever ago trying to sound out if you wanted an au or canon-type fic #you said au!!#so here we are #if i end up writing more it'll probably be the wedding from logan's pov #anyway i hope this is something like what you wanted!#happiest of holidays to you!#and anyone else reading!#much love -mas

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common-blackbird · 4 years

Photo

Started!

This is my Inquisitor (so overjoyed you can be a qunari), her name is the default Herah and I decided I’m going to approach this game by staying true to a character and not looking to do everything and be on everyone’s good side u_u

I want to make a good background for her so i’m not telling anything. Yet. I’ll just say she’s a qunari mercenary and prefers using two-handed weapons.

Highlights from today:

Studying history does pay off! This was a reference to the famous book in environmental history - Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond. So proud i recognised it x)

Also i don’t have a good shot of solas but he cracks me up so much.. The guy has a posture of the typical retired grandpa (the only thing missing is to have him walk with his hands on his back). And there’s a scene where the party sees the rift and there’s the inquisitor facing it, cassandra bracing herself and solas... just standing like an old man

On a side note, Cassandra is so gorgeous and good and i already love her, i just keep taking shots of her TAT

As for varric, it’s so different than from da2, this is so much more “official” and you can see he’s the same as ever, but you’re not hawke, hawke’s not here, the gang’s not here and there’s nothing casual about the whole situation T-T

And lastly, my inquisitor has a horse now, i didn’t know that was possible in the game ;__;

played some more...

Let me start with.... The advisors! (+ cassandra... or is she also an advisor too?)

What a bunch. I love Cassandra’s and Leliana’s faith having a crisis bc they believe that Inquisitor is the Herald of Andraste and the way they deal with it. It’s really interesting. Leliana is completely opposite than what she was in origins and i’m surprised it doesn’t bother me at all! I love seeing this whole darker side that was only hinted at in origins, though it’s also sad when i think how she used to be. I wonder how she’s gonna overcome her doubting of faith.

Josephine is a delight. I keep using her for almost every war table mission for now. She radiates capability. She reminds me of those bureaucrats that are super nice and helpful and chill and even if you’re doing everything wrong she’ll just smile and say “it’s ok, we can fix it” and then goes and fixes everything herself (and you feel this insane amount of gratitude you send a whole separate email to thank her for her patience and help )

As for Cullen... It’s interesting... I got impression from what i saw in the fandom that he’s supposed to have had his allegiance changed and him rejecting the templars should have been him ultimately siding with the mages (or at least being anti-templar(?)), and that turning point that could have been a great way to show his character development during the game. Which i agree, only... i did not get that impression from the game so far at all. I mean, so far everything that i can remember him saying is totally smth he’d say in da2... He didn’t leave kirkwall bc of his disappointment with the templar order, he doesn’t seem to have any issues with the templars except those who go full war mode instead of trying to balance the situation. And it’s a really chaotic situtation, i love how they did it.

This line was amazing, i wish there was a special cutscene for that.

I’m loving the way they made this huge religious organisation in crisis have a complete collapse with the death of a key figure. I love the concept of inquisition and problems that it poses. I love you can see everyone’s reasoning and doubts reflect their background, but also see why inquisition can be understood as another power-grasping organisation trying to topple the templars, the mages and the chantry. Everything is divided. We got templars leaving the chantry, seekers leaving the chantry(?), rebel mages, loyal mages, rebel mages gone rouge, templars gone rouge, and suddenly there’s another organisation forming that you can totally believe is just another powerhungry force trying to get the piece of the cake by taking advantage of the power vacuum left by the sudden lack of the religious authority. (and only we know we’re The Good Guys). I love that we have characters who need to believe in the greater plan, characters who question the greater plan, and characters who want to utilise the power of belief and characters who don’t care for divine plans. The chaos is real and it feels real. I love that the centre figure of the whole holy business is a heretic of another culture. For the chantry this is the lose-lose situation (unless the inquisitor becomes religious by the end of the game). Which is why this line works so well.

Ok, now shorter updates:

Red Jenny! I know it’s not her actual name but it is in my head. Where’s that box i delivered ages ago >_> Anyways, she makes my brain work on 150% capacity. I can understand what she means only after i go over it for 5 times.

Forgive me but oh my god, i can’t believe that i can recognise one voice actor and now i have another mental image whenever he speaks. Like, he’s really good at bringing out a new character, but when he gets more casual he sounds like kanan jarrus from star wars rebels and i’m just “what are you doing here, space dad” ;__; Hopefully it’ll get old and i’ll be enjoying more iron bull. he seems nice...

Vivienne on the other hand is like a reverse Josephine(?) She seems insanely capable but hates customer service, however somehow she likes you very much and will do everything you need for reasons you can’t fathom. Have a screenshot. So classy. I already feel humbled.

and lastly, BREAKING NEWS: aveline finally hired carver ;__;

Tbh Kirkwall is still a mystery and i have so many questions but i don’t think i’ll get any answers... If a powervacuum of the divine cause this much chaos, how’s kirkwall faring without a new viscount? Like, yeah, aveline can keep in check, but umm it’s in a very vulnerable state which makes it a good target for any invasion... didn’t sebastian promise bloodshed?

That’s all for now, bc otherwise i’ll start writing an essay on cassandra.

We befriended a bear in the hinterlands!

lets start with this cool shot

so, i have been to the mages and to the templars and... i sided with the templars.... First i was all for mages since they offered negotiations while the seeker just walked away, but then it turned out that was a trap, there’s also tevinter mages there (which is a red flag for my inquisitor) and then there’s some time magic involved (which is a big no for me), and i just walked out. Felt bad for the mages but my inquisitor comes from a culture where mages have their tongues cut so...

Also this guy deserves a medal for putting up with corrupted superiors and annoying nobles.

And i met cole ;__; Where are Rhys and Evangeline ;___;

the templar mission was ok i guess... I was surprised that red lyrium was apparently circulating around for some time, not sure if that means since meredith or even before. I love the stories of corruption tho and to imagine what it’s like to be trapped in this organisation that just keeps breaking everything it stands for

As for the important mages, i’ve Dorian twice since i bailed out on him in Redcliffe :I I love the guy, he seems arrogant yet so kind (like, no one would have carried that annoying priest and yet he did, after he ran from his own people to warn us after i ditched him in Redcliffe? man ;A;) Every time i go with “ok the inquisitor fears tevinter and distrusts this rando who just popped in” i am marinating in guilt.

and then we fight some mages and die several times but we succeed and we meet the bad guy...

Is it an unpopular opinion to say that i like him as a villain so far? i saw so many jokes on his incompetency. Idk, i like that part where he said that he reached the fade in someone’s name, it makes me think he’s not just power-hungry person(?) who’s just evil,but was originally serving someone, and he said that the gods were either gone or corrupted and he spent hundreds of years thinking what to do with whatever happened so he seems like he knows what he’s doing and maybe(!just maybe) he is trying to fix things that are wrong but we can’t see that? And of course he hates the inquisitor, he has to redo his stuff all over again, i’d hate the inquisitor too. im probably looking too much into it. My wish is that, if he’s evil, he became so gradually, but originally had good intentions? Or there��s more to things going on that we just don’t know and he does... Maybe this was his tragic attempt to fix things but he would ultimately fail and be branded as a villain etc etc. I’m getting carried away

If it turns out he’s just evil for the sake of being evil then feel free to tell me so now so i don’t embarrass myself further with plotting myself lol.

A side note, is he the Architect? Or the same? In DA2 he says he’s a tevinter magister, right? and he ceased to be a human. Also in DA2 it seemed like he was the boss, and here he said he reached in the name of someone (probably more important than him). But what is the Architect then?

And with that we reach the skyhold.

in skyhold

I didn’t know you meet hawke so soon ;__; i thought that was like, somewere more to the end of the game, since the big decision and all. But the mission is already opened and i am going to procrastinate on it until i finish every side mission :<

Also he is so sad ;__; i understand, but at the same time... all that humour now bitter sarcasm :’(

(also, very shallow remark, but i really really prefer his looks in da2 than here... it’s like they softened him. He’s more...oh god idk bearish(???) than hawkish(????) you know what i mean? the nose isn’t as sharp anymore, the beard is... what is it with the beard... anyways i get the game has its limits so it’s fine. it’s fine! fine.)

then there was the fight that i remember since twitter >:D

It’s what made me want to play dragon age and i finally reached it T-T so good! I love how you can see the both sides and everything they say is true but they’re so angry at themselves they’re taking it out on each other TAT

Cassandra later says Hawke probably wouldn’t have joined the inquisition even if she found him, and i wonder now if that’s true... At first i thought, nah, Hawke has too much of a hero complex, he would feel too responsible to just say no. Besides, he’s with the inquisition now (tho i can’t find him anywhere anymore!). But at the same time, the way da2 ends was such an iconic walking away from everything, and not taking into account the hocus-pocus rift stuff, i can imagine him refusing, especially seeing how bitter he is now. It’s also a question of how much would have cassandra told him i guess. idk, what do you think? Would he lead or nah?

another person i want to find but can’t in skyhold are the templars with ser barris. i can use them on war table missions but otherwise they’re non-existant? i forgot to talk to him back in haven but now i wonder if it was even possible and if he was even available there, since he isn’t here. I spent hours just running around skyhold looking for the guy :(

and then everything becomes unimportant bc aaaaa!! she! is the arcanist! Dagna! im so happy and proud(?) she went and reached her goals x)

anyways that’s all for now, laters

some random updates:

so i did the halamshiral and gave up to my “stick to the character” mode, and nothing went my way, but that’s life. Met morrigan! i almost forgot she appears lol. And, despite also jumping on the wagon of give-morrigan-better-clothes train, i have to admit seeing her in her old clothes was a relief after that dress at the ball. It’s not the way the dressed looked, but the way she moved in it... god im shallow

i also initially didn’t like morrigan being at orlais court of all places, but after the conversation that’s supposed to explain why she’s there i’m kinda ok with it. I mean, i still need some more info. Wouldn’t Tevinter be better? she’d practically become a magister overnight if she got this good in the game so fast. It’s also unconvincing how everyone knows everything in orlais but somehow nobody connected that the random kid that has no bakcground whatsoever with morrigan who keeps checking on him? But at skyhold she’s just “hey i have a kid, he’s no trouble, right?” but hey, it’s morrigan. She can do anything. I’ll just have another story idea in my head.

Then there was news of the new divine that could be either cassandra or leliana and i don’t honestly know whom to choose. I’d prefer leliana over cassandra simply bc cassandra is more of a military mind, while the position of the divine would be more political. But lately every mission with leliana was spy spy, kill kill... Do we really want that for a religious leader? On the other hand, it would nicely round up her story from origins to inquisition... But cassandra is more of a public figure than leliana is...

when cassandra said:

“I want to respect the tradition, but not fear change. I want to right the past wrongs, but not avenge them. And I have no idea if wanting any of them makes them right.”

great moment. She’s usually so convinced and rash, i forget she’s more doubtful and open minded than what she looks like. Everything about cassandra is different from the impression she gives ;__; I love her so so so so much. (when she says she considers the inquisitor her friend i melted, next time varric pulls up the “seeker has no friends” joke, my heart will no longer be breaking).

I did a bunch of personal missions. Some were cool, some were ????. Also there were war table missions with zevran, that was cool. Also i love the codex entries in skyhold. The archery competition with varric banned? Dancing lessons failing bc lace harding is on the move all the time? Perfect.

And i met chargers, i like them, and aaah that staff-bow from the trailer is such a cool idea ;A;

What i don’t get with bull’s chargers is - they’re a mercenary group right? But isn’t swordselling seen as the complete misunderstanding of the qun? I get only bull is qunari, but he’s the leader of them? How is that not frowned upon?

And lastly, i don’t think i’ve said this, but i love that they added codex entries in the loading screens. love it.

update

After months of procrastination, i have faced my fears and have met alistair. it was very anticlimatic beating 11 level monsters when i was level 21...

but.. ALISTAIR TAT He’s changed... but not changed... but changed! Like, his personality is the same, but he’s more serious, doesn’t run from responsibilities, isn’t as bitter as hawke (also, why do i get impression that i am supposed to get the impression that they’re friends? they’ve met like, once, and talked for less than a minute.. whatevs. let’s pretend they’ve met again when on the run), i really love the inquisition alistair ;;__;;

Also, i managed to get that awkward demon baby family reunion :D

know that morrigan says the vaguest generic thing “i told him his father was a good man” bc of various world states, but i also think she’s come a long way not to mock alistair, and then when he notices that she didn’t use the opportunity he mentions that the kid changed her and she’s like “pfft, yea right, you wish”....

... when she was the one who said that in the first place ;;__;;

Awwww :> I love that they bicker but softly. Kids have grown up :’) Anyways, when will alistair start paying alimony

The only weird one is Leliana bc when morrigan was introduced she was like “danger danger” (smth i’d sooner think alistair would do), and when alistair is (supposedly) in skyhold, Leli doesn’t even mention him, only hawke. bruh, what were they to you, you almost died together ;;__;;

oh i also slayed a dragon. I didn’t even want to fight that dragon. It was a hillarious feat of inquisitor, solas, cole and blackwall, all on level 21, having to chug all the health potions right at the beginning while fighting a dragon that was... level 13, after which i just let go of controls and suddenly everyone was hella good at fighting and slayed it (only cole needed revival several times).

And, befitting the wild-dream feel that it had, when i got back to skyhold and visited companions, suddenly i was drinking pelin with iron bull, and he’s reminiscing on that fight with the dragon and i’m like

it was awful and you weren’t even there.

i forgot to update

but last time i was playing i finished the hawke/alistair sacrifice and all the torture i went through with deciding whom to sacrifice vanished bc frankly, at one moment, i wanted to sacrifice both of them, but in the end it was much more easier to sacrifice hawke bc inquisition hawke just didn’t feel like hawke to me, while alistair improved since the origins!

and now i remembered why i didn’t update, in the same day cassandra rejected me so i was sad and didn’t continue playing since then (i think last time i played it was around easter?)

new update

BLACKWALL!! or should i say Thom Rainier? Wow, what an arc! It was also so fun bc i was all strict mode, picking the third option, telling him his life is in inquisitor’s hands and all that, but in the end i set him free. He’s so good, a true knight T-T

Also i romanced sera. we’ll see how that goes.

Also, fave point in the game so far, i wanted, for so long, to sit at that val roeayoux (can’t spell) cafe and finally did it with cole’s personal mission. THANK YOU COLE YOU TRULY CAN READ PEOPLE’S MINDS.

another interesting thing was that after specialising as a reaver, cassandra said that drinking dragon blood makes you grow scales and become mad. Iron Bull said that inquisitor smells better bc dragon blood and that qunari generally smell better than humans. So i’m guessing qunari have fractions of dragon in them? ok...

and now i started that mission with morrigan and the puzzles are killing me lol, i am this 👌 close to just go chase calpernia and give up on a well of sorrows.

#it's a terrible time to start a dragon age game but it's the only time #meet me at val royeaux with my pal cole fixing people's lives every sunday 5 pm

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mammon-sama · 4 years

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Can I get some Mammon fluff? Like he or MC are upset about something and they come to one another for cuddles? I think that's cute.... Plus I'm in need of a hug 🤗

Sorry, anon this took so long!!! Mammon was being a butthead throughout this whole fic and was not cooperating! And this is not exactly cuddling, but I hope it suffices! AND OMG ANON YOU SHALL BE HUGGED 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗 Also, as usual, this story can be read on AO3 here. Additionally, I have a few more writing requests to do, but feel free to send more if you’d like!

Title:

Avatar of Greed

Summary:

Mammon barges into your room very upset. You may not have all the answers, but you sure know when someone is in need of a hug and a listening ear.

Genre:

Angst/Comfort/Fluff

Rating:

Word Count:

1606

You tap your fingers on your desk and stare daggers at your Poison Lore 1001 homework. Your assignment is to create an extremely volatile aphrodisiac using belladonna, hemlock, and another toxic, yet arcane plant native to the Devildom—which is what stumps you, because as a human, how are you supposed to know what toxic plants are native to the Devildom!?

You growl in frustration. You aren’t supposed to use the internet to acquaint yourself with said plant and you can’t find your library card in order to check out a book at the Royal Library to find out what it might be.

Resting your head on your desk, you sigh. Before you can decide that the assignment is a lost cause, you hear your bedroom door swing open. Someone stomps in and sighs dramatically; you can hear them flop onto your bed. You already know who it is before they say a word.

“Mammon,” you groan, not raising your head. “What did I say about sitting on my bed?”

“‘None of the members of the House of Lamentation are allowed on MC’s bed,’” he recites. He pauses and then amends, “‘Cept for the Great Mammon, ‘cause he was MC’s first.”

You moan and turn behind you, where you see Mammon lying all starfish-like on your bed. “I don’t remember adding the last part.” You walk over and poke him. “Get off.”

“No,” Mammon whines, slinking further into the sheets. “MC, ya gotta let me stay.”

Again, you poke him. “Why?”

He sighs. “Just do it, okay?”

Surprised with his answer, you finally decide your homework is most definitely not going to get done and scoot onto the bed with him, sitting on your pillows with Mammon sprawled out in front of you. Absentmindedly, you fiddle with his hair, not noticing the blush that spreads across his face as you do so.

“St—sto—” he sputters incoherently for a few moments, before closing his eyes and retreating to silence. The two of you sit like that quietly for a spell, before he breaks it again. “MC,” he begins, his voice so faint that you barely can hear it, “d’ya think I’m annoyin’?”

You don’t miss a beat as you continue playing with his hair and answer, “Yes.”

“Whaddaya mean by that, huh?” he demands, his blush growing even deeper and his eyes flying open. “Didn’t ya hear what I asked? I asked if ya thought I was annoyin’!”

“I know; I said ‘yes.’” He doesn’t see the tiny smirk that forms at the corner of your mouth.

Mammon fidgets, his face tomato red now. “K—keep talkin’ like that MC, and I might actually believe ya!” He pauses again, and sits up, turning behind to look at you. He looks down and his voice turns into a whisper. “… Do you really think that, though?”

You look at him, raising your eyebrows. Before he had looked down, you had seen something in his dark blue eyes—something you hadn’t noticed before.

You had always noticed the pools of a desire for validation that rippled in his dark sapphire irises, but today—today, you saw thin streams of desperation swirling amongst them, as well. You decide that the time for teasing the tsundere, tsundere demon is over. You pull him back down, letting his head rest on your lap and scoop a pillow off your bed.

“Wh—whoa, MC!” he exclaims. You didn’t think his face could get any redder, but somehow it does. “I know you’re desperate for The Mammon, but ya didn’t even answer my que—”

Before the fool can finish his sentence, you whomp your pillow across his head. You blush, grit your teeth, and answer his initial question, saying, “If I found you annoying, I wouldn’t sit here and listen to you babble, would I?”

Mammon coughs in embarrassment and wisely avoids eye contact—a fact which you are very grateful for, because what would you do if he saw how red your face was now?

You try to regain your composure. You clear your throat and wonder, “Why do you ask?” You ponder if one of his brothers had said something to him for him to ask such a question, but then you remember Mammon’s neverending patience when it came to the verbal lashings that his brothers magnanimously granted to him.

“It’s nothin’.”

You remember the desperation you had seen in his eyes and in your most wheedlesome tone, cajole “Come on, say.”

“I told ya, it’s nothin’ for you to worry about, MC.”

“Please say.” You take a deep breath and muster your sweetest voice. “For me?“

“AAAH!” he grumbles, nestling his head deeper into your lap. “MC, you know damn well that I can’t say no when ya use that voice!”

You smile in satisfaction and amuse your fingers in his hair once more. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Mammon turns to his side so you can no longer see his face and sighs. “Fine.” He takes a deep breath. “MC, what sin am I the Avatar of?”

“Stupidity.” The tease pops out of your mouth without your consent.

“HEY! Stupidity’s not a sin and you know it!”

You stifle a laugh as you notice that he doesn’t deny his idiocy and try to remain serious. “Alright, alright. I know you’re the Avatar of Greed.”

“Mm-hm,” he agrees. “And ya know what? I’m damn good at what I do.” Mammon’s confident tone falters for a moment. “Sure, I’m klepto as hell, but it’s not like I can help that … y’know?” He pauses. “I’m greedy—it’s who I am. When I see somethin’ I like, I gotta have it, no matter what.” You don’t notice that he lightly coils his fingers around your calf as he says this.

Saying nothing, you nod at his spiel. You know the secondborn demon well enough to realize that he has more to say.

And he does. His voice lowers to a whisper and he wonders, “Then why am I always gettin’ blamed for bein’ who I am, huh?” You can feel his head shake in your lap. “Sure, I guess me lootin’ stuff isn’t fun for everyone, but it’s not like I can help it—it’s instinct.”

You’re not sure how to answer his question, so you continue your silence and let him talk.

“But hey, doesn’t everyone notice that it also ain’t fun for all of us to have to explain to the whole class why Belphie’s sleepin’ during lecture again or to open the fridge and realize Beel’s eaten damn near everything? Or hey, do they think it’s easier to have Asmo hittin’ on everything with a pulse? Maybe it’s better for Satan to blow up the House in some kinda tantrum or to have Levi freak the fuck out ‘cause some rando on the internet has a Ruri-chan figure that he doesn’t? Or to know that Lucifer—” his voice breaks, but he swallows quickly and continues, “—to know that Lucifer’s so fuckin’ perfect that I can’t think of any flaws for him?”

Even though you vowed not to interrupt him, you decide it’s best to cut him off there. “Lucifer’s not perfect.”

“Trust me—” Mammon’s voice breaks again as he turns his head deeper into your lap. “—trust me, MC, I know that! Ignore ‘im for a minute here.” He sighs and pivots so that he faces the ceiling, and you can see that his eyes are ever-so-slightly glassy. “Just … why’s that okay, huh? Why’s everything all hunky-dory for them when they’re givin’ into their sin, but all pitchforks ‘n’ torches for Mammon?”

You pull your hands out of his hair and bring them around his shoulders. For once, he’s too distraught to blush. You’re not sure why his brothers act the way they do, but you are sure of the response he needs. “It’s not fair.”

“No,” he mutters, “it ain’t. And it’s not like it bothers me a lot, but sometimes … when I get to thinkin’ … ”

That’s when you realize that the desperation you had seen earlier in his eyes wasn’t just his desperation to be validated, but desperation for someone to just listen to what he was saying.

You’d seen how the other six demons reacted when Mammon spoke—they’d tromp over him (although … could you really blame them? Mammon’s dialogue usually made it clear that he was merely operating on one brain cell). Perhaps it was in an effort to tease, but even then there was only so much a demon can suffer. You’re even more thankful now that you had let him monologue for so long. If anyone deserved to, it was the silly secondborn.

You don’t even have to think as you yank him into a seated position and wrap your arms around his back tightly; you don’t let go as you slowly rub circles into his back. Graciously, you decide to do him a favor and not make the adorable little squeak! he elicited as you did so public knowledge.

“H—hey, MC! Ya don’t have to feel sorry for me or anythin’!” He blushes, having regained some of his cockiness. “I’m a demon for cryin’ out loud! I don’t need a hug!” Nevertheless, he takes a deep breath and leans into you.

Your head is nuzzled into his hair as you murmur, “Shh … everyone needs a hug, sometimes.”

You feel his body stiffen and you worry that that was the wrong thing to say. However, Mammon turns around and wraps his arms around you, just as tightly.

You breathe warmly into him and stifle a laugh when he meekly asks, “Y—you’re not gonna do this for my brothers, right?”

“Never.”

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me swd mammon #obey me shall we date mammon #obey me oc #obey me mc #fanfiction #fanfic #angst with a happy ending #fluff #adverbslut_writes

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bisluthq · 3 years

Note

this is like really random but i have to vent. so basically i’m 20 years old and in my second-year at a uk university. and like i had the worst first-year of my life, made no friends, and got long covid plus really bad depression so yeah it wasn’t great. and now im back at uni i just am really feeling my lack of experience. iv never even properly kissed anyone let alone had sex and all the drinking games etc revolve around sex. i’m pretty sure i’m bi just like based on what i masturbate to but i’v only ever looked at guys as potential relationships. i just like don’t know how to navigate the social world with no friends and no sexual experience, it just feels impossible. and all my friends from home (1 of which is at uni with me) have boyfriends or at least have had sex. and also clubbing feels totally revolved around sex and kissing. it’s really hard to admit to people that i’m a virgin because people assume i’m a prude or a weirdo when i’m not i just haven’t really had the opportunity. i’m just feeling like such a loser atm. oh aaaand i actually really want a boyfriend rn.

Firstly, this is totally normal and nothing to be ashamed of. There’s no timeline for these things.

Secondly, so this is going to be a long winded Agony AuNat but sometimes I think my best ones are. In a way, this reminds me of a friend I had like 20-21 at uni. Basically we became friends because I caught her forum role playing and I was like “lmaoooo I used to do that too!” and we like bonded over it and like very quickly I began realizing that she did it on the kinds of sites me and my online friends laughed at because they weren’t ⚡️aesthetic⚡️ or sexy. Like this was some high fantasy bullshit lol - no offense also cool - on like ProBoards when we were already in the Jcink era. Anyway no biggie. This girl - a horse girl at 20 still and not in the rich bitch way - proceeded to like… idolize me and obvi y’all know how much I like attention so I loved it. And one night she asked me for advice on how to get kissed because she had been like… really wanting to lose her virginity but things just weren’t happening. I proceeded to give the worst advice ever because I too was just a young un. I said “don’t worry it’s gonna happen for you!!! Like I’m sure your crush likes you!! Don’t stress you’re so pretty and sweet!” And I believed I was saying the right stuff and it comforted her ngl so I was like 👏🏻👏🏻 go Nat you’re the best at giving advice.

Except here’s the problem - it still wasn��t happening. She was going to parties with me and I was like dressing her sluttier like some weird teen romcom movie where I was giving her a makeover and like… no one was biting.

And then - for those who remember the Nat Cinematic Universe - it turned out that rando from my 21st who I randomly fucked? Ya dudes that was her crush lol and she hadn’t told me because she thought I’d figure it out lol and she was mad at me and we sorta stayed friends until I fucked that guy’s friend which was nbd to anyone involved because my bestie fucked him and tbh I fancied the friend because he was this average sized weedy dark haired boy who was very weird looking and she exploded at me and called me a slut and shit and that was that, friendship over.

Unsure what happened next, but the reason I’ve given you this backstory is from my current POV I gave extremely bad advice so I’m gonna try correct with you tonight.

Unless you’re in high school when friends of friends can go between people and say you have a crush, and then you text them and like bam you’re exclusive, you have to work to get ass or make friends. Okay the other exception is if you’re like SUPER hot idk about that life, but tbh probs even then. Life isn’t a teen movie, and you’re not gonna just catch someone’s eye and that’ll be that. Dressing nicely might be part of it, doing your hair and makeup in whatever style you want, and making it clear up front - especially at uni when imo branding™️ matters a lot - what your interests are and such shit all factor in. I’m not saying change who you are because again that’s supremely bad advice: figure out who you are. Figure out what you want to wear (experiment!), who you want to talk to (strike up convos on campus!), what you like doing (try things out!) and - most importantly - what you’re comfortable with. Try drinking - and if you don’t like it, don’t do it. Try flirting - and if you don’t like it, know that you can go from friends to this and not everyone enjoys that. Try clubbing - and if you don’t like it, know that there are a ton of societies you can join on campus and campus events you can go to that don’t revolve around that, so seek those out and find your tribe.

Fundamentally, college is what you make of it.

Which means that like unfortunately my dude, you’ll make a fool of yourself. Probably more than once.

But know that friends won’t manifest and boys won’t manifest unless you make an effort and put yourself out there. Ask people to coffee. Ask people to the pub. Girls, boys, enbies, whoever.

Re the anxiety about “never having done this before” - I think that’s totally normal. But also like lots of other people haven’t and everyone has had a first time. In drinking games you can lie lol. You don’t need to advertise it’s your first time for anything if you’re uncomfortable with it. I didn’t tell my first kiss he was my first kiss lol because it was unnecessary info for him tbh (it wasn’t hs boyfriend even tho I’m pretty sure I was his lol but he was my third 😌).

But you also don’t need to be shy about it because honestly 2nd year uni is so fucking young. It’s not like you’re coming to me as a 40 year old virgin and asking for advice (again no timeline but I’m not there yet so maybe not the right person to give it). Most of the people you’re hanging out with haven’t had a ton of sexual experience either lmao. On my 20th birthday I had been with exactly two people, my Angel boyfriend (in hindsight) hs ex and the Rabbi’s son (literally no one’s Angel boyfriend but hopefully he and his tiny dick are married now and Mazels if so) who I fucked a few days after we broke up to prove a point. I was a bad lay (and remain so with guys unless they’re into The Hiddles Experience, not for lack of opportunities, but because we don’t have to master all things). I also - unlike you - had never masturbated. I’d never had an orgasm. I liked sex with hs ex but couldn’t explain what I liked or why, it was just fun sometimes and other times it wasn’t. (In hindsight with clit action it was fun and with pure thrusting it wasn’t). So the fact that you have wanked already gives you a head start over many of the girls guys will be meeting.

So like… figure out what’s comfortable for you. Try different things out. Walk away when you don’t like it. Never do stuff that goes against your values. Don’t be overly shy in ways that wind up making you uncomfortable, like with the story that started this, and don’t expect these things to happen if you make no effort. That applies to friendships and ass alike. And sometimes what you think will be ass will turn into friendships and sometimes what you think will be friendship will turn into more. Let it. That’s what uni’s for.

Final point: try reduce the pressure of having a boyfriend. It’s fine if it happens, but since as you say you’re not a prude, it’s fine if it doesn’t. It will eventually. Try go into encounters with the open mindedness of “this could be ass, this could be friendship, this could be more” and like clear eyes full hearts can’t lose tbh.

Final final point: join societies. Join all the societies. The best way to both get ass and make friends and make friends discussing the ass you’re getting is by joining societies.

Good luck, hope this helped, love you lots and enjoy this year and the next (and beyond if you choose Honours or postgrad).

#agony aunat

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 3 years

Note

I don't know why I am sending this to you LOL. I honestly feel like you are super chill and open minded and I needed a place to get this out my head lol

MBJ and LH dating has been rubbing me the wrong way and for the longest I didn't know why. I feel absolutely stupid and crazy because I wholeheartedly MBJ personal life is none of my business. TBH its Team Killmonger over MBJ any day💀. Which is why I feel like a complete weirdo LOL. But then it like finally clicked for me why I feel so bothered/pressed.

The reason its bothering me, a rando off the internet who do not know this man personally is because it confirmed TO ME that dark skin black girls are just not wanted or desired in a way I would like see them be.

Now everyone deserves love and to be happy and I'm glad in a way that there having fun and happy with each other. Even tho it doesn't look like I am LOL. Maybe its projection on my part but i dunno its sort of confirm that niggas don't really fuq with dark skin girls on that level (althought it wasnt really hidden lol). Like I have been in and out of many fandoms and in every single one its either:

1. They do not fuq with any black girls especially the dark ones

2. They do show love and uplift black girls but not the dark ones. And when I say show love I mean in a misogynistic way lol

3. They fuq with dark girls in a fetish-y, non human kind of way.

I dunno I just always get a feeling just before I join a fandom. Kind of like I'm bracing myself for potential fuckery. I guess i didn't brace myself time around. Idk maybe cause I thought because he is actually pro black and not as openly fucked up as like chris brown or kodak black (Jeez the bar was low lol). I know im projecting and being weird but i dont know. It just like i can't help but feeling like the sad insecure 12 year old little girl who felt so ugly cause her skin. Like soo it's so stupid and i know this because at the end of the day I DONT KNOW THIS MAN and he sure as fuck don't know me lol. And his business is his business. I have no idea why this out of all things mbj dating life brought these insecure feelings up but yeah. Writing all this down was sort therapeutic, maybe I'll get a journal then burn it LOL. Sorry for all the typos!

On a lighter note, keep posting your selfies and unapologetically you because you are extremely pretty and seeing you be confident gives me hope that one day I'll be like that too!

Okay so you’re beautiful!!!! I know you’re on anon but you’re beautiful to me and this isn’t weird at all so don’t feel ashamed that it’s how you feel.

Not saying this about Mike but one thing about a man that turns me off (among other things) is cowardice. That includes not going for what you truly desire and letting other people’s actions and words make you do something. A lot of times from what I’ve experienced in my younger days is guys follow a crowd of hype for lighter skinned women and non black women. Same goes for plus size girls. The guy will be attracted to them, but their friends or whoever else sees different so they gotta follow that wave. It doesn’t help that society has wired the mines of these people to find fairer skinned women or racially ambiguous women to be prettier. Dark skinned women are always left in the dark and shamed. It’s the truth.

Now as far as MBJ, I feel you on that. I root for him to find someone that makes him happy because I’m a fan, but of course I’m not going to deny that I’d love to see him with a dark skinned black women. I feel like a lot of people that he hangs with also play apart in it. He’s an actor, Hollywood all that. I definitely keep an eye on him and he’s very “secretive” about who he’s attracted to. I’ve seen him like a ton of dark skinned women’s posts like a thirsty guy would. Like why hide what you like? Not saying he has to prove anything. All in all I get why it bothers you. I also think that’s why fans prefer Erik (fictional) over MBJ.

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malfoysmaybank · 4 years

Text

So What?- JJ Maybank

Part Two

part one here

summary: JJ finds himself breaking his most mandatory barrier; falling in love with a kook. but hey, he’s never been one to follow the rules.

warnings: SPOILERS!!!, angst, fluff, underage drug and alcohol consumption, cursing, past heartbreak, possible typos (i have a broken arm, i proofread once it’s posted so i’ll find edit it and fix any) SLOWBURN

wc: 1,546

a/n: thanks for the massive support on the first part! i didn’t expect that but i got crazy good feedback! im so glad you guys are enjoying this and just lmk if you wanna be tagged! also i’m sorry if these lines aren’t correct i didn’t go back to watch it and write it the same as the show, just kept the main gist of the lines. Also, about halfway through there’s some perspective changes from you to JJ. Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Whatcha say? Just a day chillin on a boat with me and my friends?” JJ said, hoping you’d agree. Ever since last night, he couldn’t get you out of his head and he didn’t know why. “Uh... sure! Sounds like fun!” you said. “Keep her safe, don’t do anything stupid.” Your mom whispered to the blonde with a laugh. “Will do!” he said with a thumbs up. “Thanks Mrs. Y/L/N, you’re the best!” JJ yelled behind him as you were getting in the van. The two boys you recognized as John B and Pope liked you almost immediately, a smile coming over your face. But you turned to the girl you knew as Kiara would be a tougher nut to crack. (a/n: get your head out of the gutter John B)

“So, the famous Y/N Y/L/N. Kiara spoke up. I don’t like many kooks and I know you’re close with Sarah..” Kie started, making you panic a bit. Her and Sarah had a fallout and some drama and you befriended Sarah a couple months later. “...but JJ could not stop talking about you last night and I trust him. Plus it’s another girl to balance us out. Welcome to the Pogues!” She engulfed you in a big hug, relief washing over you. You looked over at JJ who was beet red, embarrassed about the little detail Kiara said about you never leaving his mind. You giggled a bit and John B turned up the radio.

Screaming to Tounge Tied by Grouplove, you savored this moment that felt like it was straight out of a movie. “Take me to your best friends house, I loved you then, I loved you now ooooooh yeaaaah!” You and Kie were laughing and singing at the top of your lungs like you had been friends all your life, when in reality, it had been less than 5 minutes. Finally, you got to the dock and got on the HMS Pogue.

“Y/N, watch this!” JJ grabbed a beer out of the cooler Kiara brought and got to the front of the boat. “Oh no, not again.” Kiara said with a groan. “Hey Pope, can you go a little faster please?” he asked, opening the beer. “Here we go, I’m movin.” He said and made the boat go faster. JJ put the bottle up in front of his face and beer splashed all over Kiara and I. “Oh my god, you’re getting beer in our hair!” Kiara said. Pope put a hand up. “Alright, Alright!” he said. John B and Pope argued with JJ a little before the boat suddenly hit something and jerked forwards. JJ flew off in a front flip. You, John B, and Kiara all flew forward and hit the deck. You hit your head on the side of the boat. A chorus of “What the hell, Pope?”s and groans came from the deck.

“You okay, JJ?” John B asked. “I think my heels touched the back of my head.” JJ said with a hoarse voice. “Kie, You Okay?” John B continued. “I’m alright.” she said. “Y/N?” “I think. Just hit my head a little, I’ll be good.” JJ swam over and hoisted himself on the boat. “Pope, what did you do?” he asked while helping you up and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind you. It was a small gesture, yet meaningful and loving. You passed it off as platonic, you didn’t have to fall for him even harder and get your heart broken again. “Sandbar, the channel changed.” Pope replied. “Yeah, no shit.” JJ said. “You ok, Y/N? How hard did you hit your head?” He asked you, concern lacing his voice. “I’m ok, JJ.” You placed a kiss on his temple and pink dusted his cheeks and nose.

“Probably gonna mess this whole place up.” Pope continued. “Hey, I saved the beer, though!” JJ said, making you giggle a little. “Congrats, JJ.” John B said sarcastically. “Guys... I think there’s a boat down there.” Pope said. JJ let go of you and you both walked to the front of the boat where Pope was standing. “Holy Shit, he’s right!” Kie said. “Let’s go.” All of you jumped in and went to see the ship. Sure enough, there it was.

You all exclaimed in surprise when you came up for air. “That’s a Grady White, a new one of those is 500 Gs, easy. That’s a primo rig.” JJ said as he pulled you up on the boat. “Guys, I saw something in the boat when I was down there. Kie, come with me?” You and Kie jumped down for a second time and looked in the wreck. Finally, you found what you were looking for; the motel key.

“Be so careful John B! Just gimme that John D already- like when are you gonna jump in on that?” You, John B, and JJ were walking towards the motel room and you couldn’t help but overhear their converstation. “I don’t know, besides you’re the one who’s always hitting on her!” John B replied. “Of course I hit on her dude! She’s a rich, hot, hippie chick who’s slumming with us.” You couldn’t help but feel kind of hurt by that comment but you tried to ignore it. “I know that door is locked because I’ve tried it.” JJ continued.

Once you got to the room, JJ knocked on the door. “Housekeeping!” he said in a high pitched voice and you couldn’t help but quietly giggle at his antics. He looked over and smirked at you. God, that smirk killed you. Wait, no. No, you didn’t have a crush on him. You couldn’t fall in love. Not after freshman year. “We’re clear.” JJ snapped you out of your thoughts and you swung open the door.

John B was trying to get a safe open, JJ was in the bathroom, and you were looking under the bed. JJ was talking about stealing shit but you were tuning him out, still trying to get his words about Kiara and that damn smirk out of your head. Suddenly, John B opened the safe where there was a bunch of money, a gun, and some other stuff. JJ’s eyes went to the gun immediately. He was messing around with the gun and a wad of cash when there was a pang at the window and pounding on the door.

★ JJ’s Perspective ★

While I was messing around with the pistol I found, there was a tiny sound from the window and a harsh knock on the window quickly following. Cops. My first instinct was to lock the gun, put it and a wad of cash in my back pockets, and grab Y/N’s waist and pull her back against my chest. I could feel a blush creeping up her neck. I looked towards the window and had an idea. I let go of Y/N for a moment and starting to open the window, struggling at first but getting it open. I helped her on the ledge first, then John B, then myself, and closed the window.

As I got closer to Y/N, she almost slipped but I put my arm around her back, carefully holding her against the building. I felt her breath quicken. “You’re okay, I got you. It’s gonna be okay.” I gently whispered to her in an attempt to calm her down. Her breathing slowed back down and I calmed down.

Suddenly, the gun fell out of my back pocket and made a loud clang against the building. I held her closer with one arm and quietly kissed the top of her head. “Shhhh, it’s okay, just stay still baby.” I didn’t expect to call her that, but it felt natural. She nuzzled into my chest and I put my chin on the top of her head. By then the cops had finally closed the blinds, and I helped her jump down.

★ Your Perspective ★

You were still a little shaken up from the cops incident when they had gotten back on the HMS Pogue and took off, so JJ put an arm over you and let you rest your head on his shoulder. “Did you find anything?” Pope asked. JJ took his arm off my shoulders and I shivered at the loss of contact. He reached into his back pockets and pulled out a stack of cash and the gun. “Did we find anything? No, I don’t think so. Oh yeah, we did!” he said, laughing lightly and holding them up.

While Pope started freaking out about a scholarship and JJ was trying to comfort him, your mind went back to the cops incident. When he called you “baby”. You passed it off as platonic, you were falling in love and you had to keep your feelings hidden and ignored so nobody would question you.

“I copped a picture, check it. Dead bodayy.” a rando girl showed you all a picture of Scooter Grubbs’ body from her cell phone. “Insane.” Kie said. “What kind of boat did he have?” JJ asked curiously. “Somehow the dirtbag snagged a brand new Grady White. Everyone’s out looking for it.” You looked at JJ with wide eyes. God, you were in for a looooooong summer.

a/n: school is over for me tomorrow so no more distractions!!! Idk how many chapters this is gonna have but it’s gonna be pretty long. again, thanks for the amazing support on the last one and i hope you enjoy this one! if you wanna be tagged lmk! if you’re too embarrassed to ask in the comments (i get it bb) then you can message me privately and i will make sure to tag you, this is a shame-free zone!

Taglist- @agirlthatisbi @abrunettefangirlnerd

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj imagine #jj maybank x you #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank obx #jj outer banks

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strawberryspeachy · 3 years

Text

Lurking around fb and saw the “common friends” on a friends page and seeing the two together reminded me of a conversation i had with one of them

So the dude liked the girl. I met the girl when she first moved to my area in art class and she started talking to me immediately (basically saying ‘hey! Youre the only other not white person ive seen all day’ leaving me like ?????? Weird way to start a convo)

Anyhow fast foward a few years and meeting her when she first arrived came up in convo with the dude. And he was like no i met her first! and just cause i didnt think he knew that I literally met her on her first say in the school i was like - pretty sure i knew her before you

And this dude liked to play argue with people- so he started to do that. And drew me in - until the “argument” devolved into some weird ‘who knows her better’

And i was like

Wait wait.... this is fucking weird. I... dont actually... care that much?

I think that memory popped up because i comment on youtube videos time to time and i commented on one a couple months ago about para? Relationships and how thats why people are so invested in influences lives

And i just really take issue when people use words like “everyone” and “all” because not true. Were not all the same

And i dont develop that feeling with strangers - despite my best efforts as a teen to be normal and fangirl - i always lost interest after a couple weeks because i just didnt care

That doesnt mean i dont get excited over SOME celeberties or dont stop to check out new work. Of course.

But honestly the list of people i would wake up early and go wait in line somwhere to see them is very small.

And beyond that theres only another handful where if i happened to see them on the street, i would ask for a picture or something. And that handful are people whose work i genuinely like, not because i think theyre my friends

I didnt write all that. But i am genuinely confused by the interest in “attractive” peoples lives.

And someone commented that i am lying and if i ever saw an influencer id beg for a picture with them

Honestly offended by the idea cause going badk to that convo about my high school friend. I really really really hate talking about random other people in a way thay emulates them. I dont paticipate in it. I get grossed out when people try to drag me into those kinds of conversations. I hate when im with someone and they get really fucking hype over an expensive car or a crowd or a camera crew.

I dont wanna be part of the crowd thats obsessing over some rando with a pretty face or money.

I dont wanna get drug into a crowd obsessing over someones work that i dont care about

One of my college friends told me about a news article she saw about my favorite singers dating life.... and i didn’t know how to reply because they definitely told me expecting me to get excited in some way over it... but i just dont care. Like cook. Hes a talented attractive single dude in his late 40s - makes sense hell wanna settle down with someone sometime and its not gonna be me lol

Also. I do get disturbed when i know too much information about random people i dont actually know

Like celebrities- ones i dont like i rlly try my best to not learn anything about. I dont care

Ones i like - information they wanna put out into the world - sure ill listen from time to time. But i dont rlly care one way or another

“Influencers” aka conventionally attractive people with a camera and no other talent - i wish ppl didnt care so these assholes couldnt just coast by in life on their genetics - suffer like the rest of us.

So i hate them and no. I would not want pictures with them. I dont wanna meet them. I dont get the appeal. I try to pretend they dont exist.

Edit: side note. I stopped getting nauseous and all about talking in front of people after i realized that i dont care about other peoples presentations. I dont care when i see someone do something embarrassing (ill still laugh and enjoy it but.... who cares?) so why do i worry what other people will think of me? The answer is - they wont think of me.

And I seriously have never turned back. I rlly thought i was right until college when i realized - oh actually ppl are overly invested in other peoples lives - luckily for me it didnt revert me back. I just think thats weird

Also key in this is random other people - not ppl im romantically interested in (people i have met and talked to and had back and forth exchanges with) not super close friends or family and not people that affect our every day lives like corporate assholes and government employees.

I very much care about their day to day lives and thoughts and personal lives. Cause theyre important - to me or society or both.

Same with a group of people becoming a monolith which affects public opinion.

Like, There a difference between being annoyed by what the kardashians stand for and do to american society - while also refusing to watch their show or give a fuck about what they do in their day to day lives.

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agl03 · 3 years

Note

Hello! I’m a new aos watcher, so I apologise if this is a repeated rant, I just wanted to vent a little and found your blog :) I just finished through season 3 and 4 and those were really… rough on fitzsimmons, more so than the first 2, and I think it’s because the writers were so inconsistent? 3A was just a mess to jemma. she was so hot and cold, but not in the way you’d expect from being on a planet. it was like watching a different character almost every other episode [1/6]

[2/6] she has ptsd, then she doesn’t, she’s professing love for fitz, then professing it for will. I was getting whiplash! It felt like the writers put her through hell and then didn’t know how to come back from it, but gathered their bearings in 3B (although if I’m honest, that felt a little cheap, because it was a redo for her relationship with fitz but she still never got to react to being on a freaking alien planet!)

[3/6] and then season 4 was so hard to watch how they tore fitz down. I just find it so hard to believe that, without jemma, fitz would be such a monster, because he had to be a good person too, right? otherwise its like he had 0 personality before jemma and she carved him into who he was, but that doesn’t make sense. I guess I’m still shocked that he never woke up from it, even though everyone else did. it felt like the writers pushed him far (too far) and didn’t know what to do with him.

[4/6] I haven’t seen season 5 so I hope they mention it a little bit, but it was a real struggle to see how extreme they went with him, and Im honestly struggling with whether or not i should go on because the writers seem to love to push them to extremes and then backpedal and not in any way that resolves anything, it really makes me cringe sometimes!

[5/6] I also thought it was strange that fitz got a chance to say, very clearly, that he would always choose jemma over anyone, but that jemma never said anything about that for will? I get that jemma is more reserved than fitz, but I’m still a little sore about that, it doesn’t help with fitz looking like besotted second choice, is all I’m saying. I guess I’ll have to see in the later seasons…

[6/6] anyway, i'm sorry for this, i had about 4 seasons of angst built up in me and i didn't know who to turn to! i really like the show, but i am starting to try and watch with less and less expectations because i keep getting my hopes up for a real resolution and it hasn't happened after almost 100 episodes... thank you for listening and for being so friendly from what i see! i hope i haven't poked old wounds or anything !

Hi Anon!

Welcome to the Fandom, and you have no idea how much these kinds of asks are right up my ally over the years. I’d say go digging through my blog for more of the metas but that is spoiler central in there so I hope this will suffice until you are done.

First and foremost I don’t want to spoil anything for you but I’ll say to you what I said to the fandom at the end of Season 4....just hang in there we have to trust that the writers have a plan. I”m REALLY gonna stress this one cause I have a feeling you’ll be back.

Season 3 does indeed hold many old wounds and a pile of story lines that started and then went no where or flat out didn’t make sense. The whole Space Rando thing was upsetting to say the least but I will tell you the writers said in the Season 3 Declassified that he was nothing more than a roadblock in getting Fitzsimmons together, 12 episodes, but that is what is was. Were there other ways they could have worked with a more father figure Space Rando and Jemma’s PTSD for that delay, yes, but to be very honest they did not have the real estate to do that kind of story the justice it needed with everything else going on. It is also worth noting they had to fire the actor that played Will and in that had to change a few things, IE Hive was Ward. Real estate wise the cast had gotten pretty large at that point and there just wasn’t enough time to properly deal with all that was going on.

Season 4 they did much better, had things mapped out better, but that still didn’t change the fact that I suspect there were a few lane changes story wise . Again thanks to the declassified books. And over the years I’ve done A LOT of metas on the Framework and I think something that gets lost a lot is what Radcliffe said he wanted and what AIDA actually did when it came to fixing a regret.

Radcliffe told AIDA, in order to keep the team quiet and not trying to bust out like May did, was to take away a regret. And for May that was Bahrain. That change was what set up the hell scape we came into with Hydra in charge. Radcliffe was blissfully off on his happy Island with no clue what she was really up too until it was too late.

After 4.14 when AIDA got her hands on the rest of the team she didn’t do like she did with May, Change her biggest regret, rather she changed A regret and for everyone but Fitz stuck them somewhere where they wouldn’t get in her way. Mack got his daughter back and was ready to die in there with her. Mace got to be the Hero Inhuman Leader he always wanted to be. Coulson was a teacher. May was where her regret left her. Daisy (had she been replaced) would have just been another foot soldier in Ophelia’s army. And Jemma was where she could never ever have a chance of getting to Fitz because she feared their love and that Jemma would take him from her. And I have proof those were not the regrets that they would have had fixed and I’ll circle back to that in a second.

Fitz was her target all along. She knew from the Darkhold she needed him for what she wanted. Looking Glass and Love. However, she didn’t realize that his heart always was Jemma’s and when he wasn’t brainwashed and controlled within an inch of his life that he’d leave her in a second. She mistook his previous acts of caring and empathy as love and had no understanding of the depths of human emotions. IE you can love people different ways. Sure he cared about AIDA but he loves Jemma with his heart and soul and vise versa.

As Fitz was her target she fixed things so that she could insert herself in his life in Jemma’s place and that he would have grown up with his awful father who taught him that cruelty and power was the way to go. This also kept out any positive and caring influences like his Mother, Jemma, and the team.

I said I had proof that some of those regrets weren’t necessarily what the team would have picked. That came via Self Control from Robo Coulson and Robo Fitz bearing in mind these LMD’s all had scans of who’d they replaced. Their memories and their desires.

Robo Coulson told Robo May to let this whole hostile takeover happen because in the Framework they were happy and together. That was decidedly not the case there though their connection ended up proving crucial to getting everyone out.

Robo Fitz told Jemma he was doing this for her so they could get married, grow old together. Had he known he would be sending Jemma literally into the grave Robo Fitz would not have gone along with the plan. He thought he was getting Jemma and they were going to go live their own Happily Ever After in there. Yeah, not the case either.

With the not waking up, no one but Coulson woke up and that was only thanks to Tahiti. And yes, it was brutal. Every week my poor ask box got more and more upset and as a fandom we were more than ready to get the hell out of there. I mistakingly died on the hill that Jemma would snap him out of it (though I did accurately predict the second Fitznapping....yay). She didn’t because this isn’t Once Upon a Time, True Love’s kiss doesn’t break the curse of having your mind completely wiped by an evil LMD and the Magic Demon Book. Now looking back it does make the fact that the second he had free will again, despite that other manipulated life where he was dedicated to Ophelia, it was still Jemma.

Oh and Jemma did choose Fitz over Will, when the sandstorm hit. She continued to go to Fitz and left Will....she would have never left Fitz in a sandstorm with the evil monster lurking about.

That all being said sometimes crap just has to happen to move the story ahead and there is always a price to pay for the good. I do think the Framework went too far but at the same time the writers were making a bit of a political statement there and they saw how good Iain was with evil bad guy.

Shippping Fitzsimmons is a lot like a Marathon and you are about to the “What on earth have I done to myself,” point of the race. But I promise the feeling of crossing that finish line at the end can’t be beat.

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ash-and-graphite · 3 years

Text

The Prince’s Pastries

By: Ash Nixie

Word Count: 1,059

Pairing: Princexiety (can be taken as platonic or romantic)

Roman came in the door with a happy smile. “Hello glorious bakery! Did you miss me?” He was at his bakery, ‘The Prince’s Pastries’. It had taken Roman years to make his dreams come true; a disney themed bakery.

It took a lot of sacrifice, Roman couldn't afford college since he was saving up to buy this very building, he had to give up precious beauty sleep to get up early every morning and get started making pastries, and hardest of all…. Roman had to give up on finding a soulmate, a true love, a beloved. Roman sighed and went into the kitchen, then began making batter for cupcakes and cake. His mind couldn't help but wonder, to the possibilities of how he would meet his partner. As a child, Roman had always fantasized about finding a beau. He dreamed about finding the one made for him, but who knows? Maybe the love of his life will come walking through the doors?

At that second, the door to the bakery opened.

“H-hello?” A male voice called out

Roman tilted his head and walked out, looking for whoever this kind stranger could be. “Why hello there- oh” he slumped slightly, the human embodiment of an emo nightmare had walked in, definitely not the prince of his dreams. “Sorry stormcloud but we aren't open yet”

“Oh, sorry, I was just here about the job application? I didn't want to be late so I came in early… I-I can come back later” The stranger took a step towards the door

“Wait- stay, I’ve been looking for a new applicant for weeks” Roman said with a tired sigh “Im Roman Prince, you?” he held out his hand

The stranger looked at Roman cautiously for a moment then shook his hand “Virgil storm.”

Roman smiled “Well Virgil, let's get started shall we?”

“Uh- what?” Virgil tilted his head slightly

“To the kitchen, to y’know, do kitcheny things” Roman said “You do know how to bake, right?”

“Of course I do!” Virgil said quickly “I'm just not going into a backroom with some rando. Have you never played FNAF??”

Roman facepalmed “Would you like to bake out here?” he asked sarcastically, gesturing to the room they were in dramatically

Virgil thought for a moment then smirked “Yes actually, is that a problem?”

Roman stared deadpan at Virgil “I- You know what? Why not?”

Roman had gotten all the things for making simple pastries, with some help from Virgil, who would only go into the kitchen if Roman wasn't there. They started easily, Roman explaining what to do and Virgil doing just that.

After an hour Roman had grown quite fond of Virgil. He was actually having a lot of fun with the Negative Nancy… that is until he realized the time and his eyes widened “Crap-” he mumbled, going into the kitchen.

This time Virgil followed, his worry for Roman overpowering his anxiety “What?”

Roman sighed “The bakery opens in 20 minutes and the only pastries I have are the dozen cookies, and the cake we made.”

Virgil gasped slightly “Oh… Im sorry”

“Its- Its not your fault, just… I dunno what I am supposed to do”

Virgil thought for a moment “What if…. What if we do what you and I did?”

“I don't follow…”

Virgil sighed “What if we give people mini lessons of how to bake, then they can make their own pastries and you still have a way to make profit for them paying for the class!”

Romans face lit up “By the screams of snipped snakes at the Gorgon salon, why didn't i think of that!?” He hugged Virgil “Thank you, hot topic”

Virgil tensed slightly at the hug then relaxed “Aw, you think I’m hot?” he teased

Roman rolled his eyes fondly “Don’t flatter yourself sunshine”

Roman and Virgil bravely set out the things, facing dangerous tasks like 50 pound flour bags, getting all the frosting out and having to correct Virgil when he put colors that totally clashed next to each other, and an evil dragon witch broom that caused Virgil to trip while he was carrying another 20 pounds of flour. Roman -who was walking towards Virgil- managed to catch him, seconds before the flour hit the ground and coated them both.

Roman swore Virgil was blushing under the layer of flour on his face, but there was only way to be sure. With Virgil still flushed against his chest, Roman carefully cupped Virgil's cheeks and brushed the flour away softly, revealing a blush that just got brighter at the gesture.

Roman smirked “You ok, my chemically imbalanced bromance?”

Virgil looked up at Roman a few seconds longer then began laughing, he jokingly pushed Roman away “How many of those do you got?”

“Well Doctor Gloom, you’ll just have to wait and find out” Roman smiled softly, flicking his fingers at Virgil so the latter got more flour on his face. Virgil sneezed like a kitten, causing Roman to gasp “What was that?”

Virgil sniffled, turning pink under the mask of flour “N-nothing!”

“Oh come on charlie frown! That was adorable!”

“It was not!” Virgil argued

“Totally was, now c’mon, let's get you washed off before you start clawing my furniture” Roman jokes, walking over to the sink

Virgil rolled his eyes fondly and followed.

Roman washed Virgil's face off lovingly with a washcloth, then did the same to himself. Finishing just in time to hear customers coming in. The day went well, everyone loved learning how to bake different pastries and Roman, Virgil, and the other workers loved teaching about it.

Once everyone -besides Virgil, who stayed to help clean up- had gone home, Roman closed the bakery with a happy smile. He turned to Virgil “I can’t thank you enough for everything you did today”

Virgil returned the smile “It was my pleasure,”

Roman rubbed the back of his neck, blushing slightly “Would you like to get dinner somewhere? My treat”

Virgil raised an eyebrow “No.”

Roman looked to the ground “O-oh of course. Sorry.”

Virgil smiled and bent down so he could look Roman in the eyes “Back to my place, we’ll order something, my treat.”

Roman gasped, his face lighting up. He immediantly hugged Virgil “Thank you Kylo Friend!”

Virgil chuckled and hugged back “A nice nickname?”

“You deserve it” Roman whispered softly

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