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#had this in the works in some form for like two years now
retiredteabag · 12 hours
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winter weight (nanami ver)
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Synopsis: nanami has gained some weight this winter, it seems you don't mind.
based on this fanfic I wrote for Toji which was based on this fanart! thank you @lil-sis for requesting more nanami :,)
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
You had known Nanami Kento for years before you were romantically involved. He had never made an inappropriate comment, always treated you with the utmost respect, and was all-around, the truest form of a gentleman.
For a time, you locked away your feelings for the kind man, sure he could never see you in that way, but little did you know, the man in question hid from your gaze, not because he did not want to see you, but in fear that you would see him. See him for what he was: a man, obsessed.
You had been with Ken for nine months now and he was everything you could want and more. He was communicative, thoughtful, and romantic. He looked at you in a way nobody had before. Likewise, for you, those nine months passed with comfortable ease.
This was your first winter together, and with the changing of the seasons you learned day by day that the man you knew was your life partner. The both of you were homebodies in a sense, however, with the chilly air and light snowfall this week, you were even more keen on a night in together.
You raced around the house, lighting candles, simmering mulling spices on the stove, and laying out blankets for the two of you. The house felt even cozier knowing that Ken was coming to join you.
He had spent the afternoon with his parents and was coming over after having dinner, he told you to eat without him and you had just finished cleaning your plate when you received a text,
"I am on my way now, sweetheart, is there anything you would like from the store?"
Ken was like this, domestic in the way that made you want to bounce around the room. You thought for a moment before deciding you would probably need more eggs. Earlier this week the two of you had planned a movie night, the next morning you were both hoping to bake cookies together while playing board games or taking turns reading to one another.
You informed him of the need for eggs and he told you he would be just a few more minutes. During that time you scrolled through the choices of movies, picking a few for the two of you to choose from.
Despite being together longer than the gestational period for a baby human, you still received butterflies in your stomach at the thought of his arrival. Knowing he was nearly home, you bounded to the kitchen and faced the door, the room smelled delicious, the only thing missing was his presence, and perhaps another layer of clothing.
Even so, you could hear his footsteps approach and knew that the two of you would share a blanket and body heat in no time.
When the man finally opened the door he was smiling shyly, a red dusting across his face from the cold. He wore a long winter coat, and in his arms were a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift.
You rushed to greet him, taking the day bag from his arm,
"Oh! Ken, they're beautiful!" You stood on tiptoe as he bent his knee and you kissed his cold cheek. "Goodness, you're freezing! Come in please!"
"Hello, my love." He smiled more broadly now, wrapping his free arm around you, "This if from my parents, but they told me not to let you open it until the holidays."
A warmth ran through you, the Nanami's were all too kind. Kento set the flowers on the counter and stepped toward the coat rack by the door to retire his shoes and jacket.
In the motion it took for him to pull the sleeves off his broad shoulders, you took him in. Leaning on the kitchen counter you allowed yourself to stare at him. His dress shirt was tight on his arms, and his suit pants clung to his thighs. You took a step toward him again.
"I almost don't want you to change, you look so handsome in your work clothes."
"Well, I've certainly put on some weight. These pants hardly fit now." he looks increasingly uncomfortable, not to be in your presence but to show that he was dressed in such a tailored fashion.
"Ken, my dear, you look incredible." You contain the desire to squeeze his thigh by walking to the bedroom and bringing out a pair of sweats and a cotton shirt.
"Although you are a delight to see this way, I'll let you get comfortable." You smile and pinch his bicep.
"Thank you, dear, I don't believe I've ever been so heavy. It's all the good restaurants you introduce me to, perhaps I should get back into the gym." He had grabbed the soft clothes you picked for him and walked into the bedroom to change.
"You're the one bringing me to all those good restaurants so you can't just blame me." You smile from outside the door.
"I'm just grateful you're with me" He laughs, pulling the shirt over his head.
"Ugh!" You exclaim, "Of course, Ken, don't say something so ridiculous." He laughs but you are still caught on what he said earlier. "And don't start going to the gym, you look great, very chewable."
He pops out from behind the door and looks down at you, amused. "I'm not sure how to feel about that descriptor, but if you still like me with extra weight, then I suppose I can remain comfortable."
"Still like you?" You gasp offended, "Ken, I grow more attracted to you every day, I don't care how tight your clothes are, in fact, it's a good look."
He gives you a mischievous face, "Go sit on the couch, pick a movie, stop trying to seduce me."
You laugh, incredulous, "I'm not trying anything, I'm only speaking the truth." You shrug, bounding to the couch and crawling beneath the blanket. Ken brings two mugs of cider before joining you.
That night you lay on his chest, watching a cheesy romance, the both of you laughing at the silly main character. You tilt your head up, to watch his face, your eyes catching the beginning of a few grey hairs dispersed in his blonde hair. You gently run your hand through his undercut.
In that moment, in his arms, as comfortable as you've ever been, you are sure, he is the man you will grow old with.
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tan1shere · 11 hours
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I'm Sorry
Billie Eilish x female reader !
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A/n: saw this video on tiktok of this girl accidentally breaking a gift her bf got her and her being so apologetic, and I can just imagine how bill would be with you:(
Summary: Billie reassures you when you accidentally break her gift.
Warnings: none just fluff ! Kinda angst tho ??
Masterlist
It was time again. Your birthday, just another year of getting older. You were currently laying in bed, half asleep as the sun was shining through the curtains. You then feel hands on your shoulders. "Babyy, its your birthday!" Billie sings as she says that. You cover your face. "Does it have to be." She plops down on the bed. "Oh come on, it's not every day you're 21!" You open an eye to see she had a few gifts. Your other eye opens as you look at her. "Bubba, I thought we agreed on two at most." She puts her finger up to your lips. "I couldn't help myself."
You sigh with a bright smile, sitting up to prepare for her little gifts. She hands you the first one, some clothes you had been wanting. Next up, some skin care. She was always so thoughtful of the things you needed. And lastly, maybe your favorite. You open up the wrapping revealing a glass red rose. You marvel at it. "I know how much you love roses and how upset you get when they start to die, but this way you can have it all the time." She smiles at you. Your eyes meet hers as you almost have tears in them. You leap over to hug her tightly.
"Thank you baby! I love it so so much." She smiles. "Knew you would." Her hands grab your face, thumb swiping over your cheek. "Happy birthday angel." She leans in to kiss you softly, so glad you like the gifts. "Some of them came from your mother. I put them in a vase already for you." You then kiss her cheek, placing the glass rose down on the bedside table. "Thank you babe, I'll go smell them soon."
A few days pass and you honestly had the best birthday ever, Billie was spoiling you like crazy. Took you out for a nice meal too. Today you were working from home, doing some needed chores along the way. Bill was at Finneases working on some stuff in his studio. You did take a small break though. Getting into bed and scrolling for a glass case to put around your new gift. Just to make sure it's safe. You go to grab your water, but as you do. Eyes glued to your screen. You hear a shatter. Uh oh. Your head turns slowly.
Panic rising within you. "Fuck. No no no." You say frantically trying not to freak out. You get on the floor picking up the pieces. Shit. It was really broken. You cry. Cry because you broke the sweetest gift, given by the sweetest person and you broke it. You curse at yourself. You feel so stupid. You're an idiot your brain tells you.
How.
Could.
You.
You grab the pieces, but as you do you accidentally cut your finger. "Shit!" You winced. How could this get any worse. You pick up any remaining shards. Standing up and contemplating. She was gunna hate you. You thought. You don't blame her, you had only just got it. Your hands go to your hair, all these bad thoughts rushing through. You were going to have a shower after you got the case. But now you don't even need the case because you stupidly broke the rose. So. Stupid. Your tears still streaming down your face, you felt so awful. The image of Billie being so hurt right after she was so excited giving it to you.
You get into the shower, sliding down the wall. All you could think about was how she was going to react when she comes home. The hot water ran over your crying form. You hadn't even heard the front door open and Billie calling out like she always does. Until you hear faint footsteps and the bathroom door open. "Baby?" Had she seen it yet...
"Y-yeah.." You reply, she opens up the curtain to see you in the position you were in. Confused as anything. "What's going on love?" She always knew when something was bothering you. "I'm so sorry." You pathetically cry out. "Baby, talk to me." She says stopping the water from running. You just shake your head, lip quivering. "Sweetheart, please." You take a moment. "Don't hate me." You weakly say. "How could I ever?" Her bewilderment made your heart ache more for what you are about to tell her.
"Go look on my bedside floor." Your voice was hushed. So incredibly worried as she goes to do so. Her eyes land on the last little bits of glass, looking at the shattered mess on your table. Her heart breaks, but not because you broke it and most definitely by accident. It was because you were so upset, she hated seeing you upset. She comes back in the room to you still in tears. "Bub, hey. It's ok." - "it's not. Im so sorry I'm so-" She stops your apologies. "Baby. We can fix it. It's fixable. And if not I'll just buy you another. I swear to you. It's all ok."
Her voice was tender. So soft and reassuring. Your crying settles just a bit. "Are you sure?" She nods. "So incredibly sure. I'm not mad my girl, never ever would be." Her hand extends out for yours. You take it and get out of the shower. "Are you hurt?" You pout at how sweet she was, you loved this woman to absolute death. "What?" She chuckles. You just shake your head. "Youre just so kind, I love you." She brings you in for a hug, you wrap your arms tightly around her. She couldn't give a single fuck that your body was dripping wet.
It lasted for a long time, before she pulls back and looks at you. "I did just a tiny bit but I'm ok." You state. "Where abouts?" You show her the red mark on your thumb, she grabs it. Bringing it to her lips as kissing it gently. "Like I said before if we can't fix it I'll buy a new one, this time with a case."
"Great idea."
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storieswithvenus · 2 days
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Weather girl - Tyler Owen’s x Fem! Reader
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴
hey! sorry for taking so long off, i’ve been super busy and getting back into the swing of everything. hope you guys enjoy, it’s a bit of a rollercoaster;)
TW!!
use of y/n, reader and tyler being somewhat surprised by a tornado even though they are chasing it???, quick love confession cause i got tired lmao
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
As the cloud started to swirl, the one supercell storm now forming a small funnel, you stood watching from the beginning of the dirt path a mile away.
You stood there with your high definition camera, snapping away photos of the upcoming storm, just a few feet behind you stood Tyler Owen’s.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
You two had an unusual relationship, the two of you had grown up together. Frankly, he was your older brother’s best friend. Growing up together, you had always had some sort of tension, he had grown close to your older brother Mason in their sophomore year of school while you were a freshman. As they grew close, he was always at your house with Mason, either playing football in the back garden or playing video games in your brothers room while screaming at the screen.
You were a bit of a nerd, you knew from a young age that you wanted to work in something to do with the weather. So when you were trying to study the weather patterns around you and all you could hear was the screaming of your brother and Tyler, you did lose your mind. Stomping your way towards his room and slamming the door open, banging off the wall.
Both of them staring up at you with disbelief, watching as you throw one of your massive textbooks at them. The book smashing off the head of Tyler and as you reach for the handle of the door slamming it closed.
By the time you had graduated from university, you hadn’t been home to Texas in years. You hadn’t seen your family in years because you were too focused on your career, and it worked in your favour too.
“If we look towards the Joplin area here,” you say standing infront of the map which is covering the massive screen behind you, pointing towards that area, “you can see that there is a storm heading towards this area. Right now, it doesn’t look like anything too bad, however I will report back if it does gain the attributes to form a tornado that would touch down.” You carry on speaking before your cameraman gives you the thumbs up to finish so they can wrap up. “That’s it folks, please do keep checking the weather app for any possible updates! This is Y/N L/N signing off.”
You walk out of frame just as the director cuts. Walking straight over to your assistant who has your phone and a bottle of water waiting for you. “There’s been this number blowing your phone up, I haven’t answered of course - but they literally won’t stop phoning. I’m starting to think a fan has gotten your number.” Your assistant, Mark, says as you open the bottle of water and start drowning it to coat your throat. “There’s not much we can do if it is leaked, but i’ll check it out. You’re free to go home, I know your little ones are probably looking for you to come home” You say before leaning in to give him a hug, he thanks you profusely before running out the massive door to the carpark.
Looking down at your phone, you decide that you’re gonna phone the number back. You tap the number on your phone and put it up to your ear as it begins to ring. After 5 rings you consider hanging up, that was until you heard the number pick up.
“Hey! Is this Y/N?” the deep voice spoke after a few seconds of silence, “Hi! Uhm yeah this is she… Who is this? Why have you been spamming my phone?” You voice slightly breaking, confusion evident in your voice. “It’s.. uh-“ the voice on the phone stumbles, “It’s Tyler, you know Tyler Owen’s”.
Then it all clicked, the voice, the way he spoke, everything made sense. “Tyler, I haven’t heard from you in years..” your voice lower. “Yeah, listen, I see you on the news now, and well.. I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna join us for a few weeks storm chasing. So you can get your own experience.”
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
“Are you sure this is safe?” you screamed at him from the passenger side of the truck, your hands gripping onto the side of the chair. He looks at you with a little laugh, as he speeds up, watching you squirm in your seat. You turn to look out the front windscreen, just as you look, you see the massive tornado cross the dirt road in front of the truck.
Your head quickly turns to his as he speeds up towards the twister. “Tyler, are you fucking crazy?” You scream over the sound of the truck speeding down the dirt path, the sound of destruction coming from the tornado. Suddenly he turns the wheel to his left, the car turning sharply down another smaller path, your body being thrown to the left as you held on for dear life.
“We need to get in front of it before we deploy the rods to hold us into the ground”, his voice still drowned out with the noise around the car. Looking out the side window, you watch as the tornado seems to be standing still.
Panic fills your body, you feel the world go into slow motion. You know what’s coming. “Tyler, deploy the rods.” Your voice quiet, close to a whisper as you couldn’t take your eyes off the storm beside you. “What?”, he questions you, before looking over to see what you were saying. His eyes moving from you to out the window your eyes were glued to, his eyes widening at what the two of you were seeing.
The truck hauls to a stop, the two of you being slightly flung forward. His hand quickly slamming down on the red button in the middle of your two seats to deploy the rods into the dirt ground below the truck.
You finally come back to earth, turning to him as you feel the truck get closer to the ground, the rods securing you into the floor. Your hand reaches for his, intertwining, before you throw your head between your legs in a brace position. Tyler’s hand squeezes yours, a last sense of safety before the tornado hit the truck.
The force of the 90mph wind hits your side of the truck first, your mouth let out a scream as the violent shaking begins to cover the entire truck. The colour of the sky outside goes from a light grey to a dark grey, close to black, in seconds.
You hear smaller items of debris hitting all around the truck, a branch hitting the window with such force you thought the window would give out and crash in on top of you. With all of your focus on the storm now surrounding you, you didn’t realise you had began to cry. The tears streaming down your face as you hold your head down and cover it with your other hand incase of something breaking a window.
You feel the violent shakes begin to slow down, becoming more gentle. Your curiosity for the better of you, your head turning up to look out the front window screen. The storm had just passed you, all the trapped air in your lungs finally cleared as you let out the biggest sigh of relief.
You look over to Tyler, he was already watching you. His smile spreading across his face, “What did you think of that?” His voice full of cheekiness, giving you a slight wink.
And all you could do, was give him a slight laugh back.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
And that’s how you ended up here, watching the now EF1 cross the field in front of you. Taking your own photos of it, and just taking in the sight of mother nature.
You feel Tyler walk up behind you, his hand making contact with your lower back. Turning to look at him, you smile as he begins to speak, “Hey weather girl, did you get any good pictures?” You smile widens, turning your head to look down at your camera as you go through the pictures to pick your best one, “Yeah I did. Got this amazing one here”, you say in a soft voice, showing the small camera screen to him.
He reaches out to your camera, his hand touching yours, a spark of electricity connecting between you two. You both look up at each other, eyes connecting, both of you looking at each other with love.
“I’m glad you decided to stay with me and the team after what I put you through in our first week”, his voice was full of truth. Your hand lays on his arm, “I would never leave after that.”
“Can I kiss you?” Your eyes slightly widen at the question he sprung into you. He could tell he surprised you, just before he was about to apologise you pulled him in. Your hand laying on his jaw as you kissed him.
You slightly pull back to make eye contact, smiling at him. His voice soft and low,
“I have loved you ever since we were kids, ever since you threw that book at us.”
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writeriguess · 2 days
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hello! i love your works thank you for that 🙂‍↕️
can you do pro!hero dynamite and reader whose also a pro!hero but they’re undercover so he doesn’t know? can be angsty fluff i just live for a good spy moment 💕
The city was a mess, crumbling beneath the weight of a villainous plot threatening to blow apart the fragile peace. Katsuki Bakugou, or as the world knew him, Dynamight, stomped through the broken streets, his eyes sharp as flint. Every crackle of his palms sent up tiny sparks, a reflection of the restless anger simmering within.
He didn’t like it—this mission. Not the fact that the villain had slipped through his fingers, nor that he was now working with a partner he didn’t know. The person had shown up out of nowhere, masked, with no name, only a vague promise that they were on his side. The Commission said they were a pro hero, but Katsuki wasn’t so easily convinced.
Where the hell were they? He scowled, kicking a broken piece of pavement out of his way.
“You’re gonna give yourself an ulcer if you keep that up, Dynamight.”
His head snapped to the side, eyes narrowing at the figure who appeared out of the shadows like they belonged there. A sleek black outfit, tactical and form-fitting, clung to their body—nothing about them screamed ‘hero.’ They were dressed more like a villain. The only thing that set them apart was the small emblem on their arm, hidden in the folds of their gear.
“Where’ve you been?” he growled. “I don’t have time for games.”
“I wasn’t playing,” they replied coolly, pulling down the mask just enough to smirk. “I was gathering intel. Isn’t that what we’re here for?”
Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “Tch, don’t act smart with me. If we don’t find this bastard, the whole city’s gonna burn.”
“Funny, coming from you,” they teased, falling into step beside him.
He shot them a sharp glance but said nothing more. They weren’t wrong. His hands were practically itching to blow something up, and that wasn’t helping the tension in his shoulders. He needed to stay focused. For the mission.
The two moved through the city in silence, their pace quick as they made their way toward the villain’s last known location. All the while, Bakugou couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this person. They moved too smoothly, too confidently, like they already knew the lay of the land. And when they fought, it wasn’t just with skill but with a kind of familiarity that made him pause.
It wasn’t until they reached the hideout, tucked away in the decaying underbelly of the city, that Bakugou’s suspicions flared. The villain was there, surrounded by henchmen, but the way his partner tensed beside him, the way their breath hitched ever so slightly—
It was as if they recognized him.
“Knew you’d show up,” the villain sneered, eyes gleaming with malice. “But didn’t think you’d bring her.”
Bakugou’s heart stopped.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped, glancing at his partner. They were frozen, their mask pulled low over their face, but something in the air shifted.
The villain laughed, dark and amused. “Oh, this is rich. She didn’t tell you, did she? Your partner here isn’t just some random hero. She’s been working undercover. Bet you didn’t even know she was right under your nose.”
“What—”
Before he could process what was happening, his partner ripped off their mask, revealing your face—someone Bakugou had known for years, fought beside countless times, trusted more than anyone else. But here you were, dressed in a disguise, with secrets between you so thick he could barely breathe.
“You…” Bakugou’s voice was hoarse, strangled. “You’ve been… what the hell is going on?!”
Your eyes met his, regret flickering there, but determination too. “I couldn’t tell you, Katsuki. It wasn’t safe.”
“Wasn’t safe?” His voice cracked with barely restrained fury. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time! I thought—”
“I didn’t have a choice!” you interrupted, stepping toward him. “If you knew, if anyone knew, the mission would’ve been compromised. I was trying to keep you safe.”
The air between you was thick, volatile. The villain’s laughter echoed around you, but neither of you heard it.
“You were supposed to trust me!” Bakugou spat, his hands clenching into fists. “You should’ve—”
“I did,” you whispered. “I always did. But sometimes… sometimes you can’t let someone in. Not when the stakes are this high.”
Bakugou’s breath hitched, his anger warring with the pain that stabbed through his chest. You were right in front of him, yet you’d felt a world away. All this time, you’d been fighting the same battle, but from the shadows, while he’d been left in the dark.
“We’ll talk after,” you said, your voice softer now. “Right now, we’ve got a job to do.”
Bakugou’s jaw tightened, but he gave a small nod. The mission came first, as much as it burned. Together, you turned to face the villain, the silent understanding between you an unspoken promise that this wasn’t over.
The fight was brutal. Explosions rocked the hideout as Bakugou unleashed his rage, while you moved with practiced precision, striking with lethal efficiency. But through it all, Bakugou couldn’t stop glancing at you—at the familiar way you fought, the way your eyes flashed with the same fire that burned in his.
When the dust finally settled, the villain was subdued, his threats silenced, and the city saved once more. But the silence that followed was deafening.
Bakugou turned to you, his chest heaving. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You sighed, exhaustion weighing down your limbs. “Because I knew you’d try to stop me. And I couldn’t let you do that.”
He ran a hand through his ash-blonde hair, frustration etched into every line of his body. “You’re a pain in the ass, y’know that?”
You smiled, tired but genuine. “Yeah, but you still care.”
He scowled, but it lacked the usual heat. “Shut up.”
Stepping closer, you placed a hand on his arm, your touch grounding him in a way nothing else could. “I’m sorry, Katsuki. I didn’t want to lie to you. But I had to.”
For a moment, he just looked at you, eyes scanning your face like he was seeing you for the first time. And maybe, in a way, he was. You were the same person, but you’d been carrying a weight he hadn’t seen.
Finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Just… don’t do it again. Or I’ll kill you.”
You laughed, the sound light despite the tension. “Deal.”
And though there were still things left unsaid, for now, you had each other. That was enough.
Requests are open. Send as many as you like.
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pretzel-box · 10 hours
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Please read.
This is a general post about a small thing that came up two or three times in the past.
It's not that dramatic but I would like to adress it anyways since it's something that's stressing me out when people mention it.
"You take too long to post."
"You didn't wrote my request."
I admit that the pace I started with has dropped and I took more time to actually come up with stuff, despite my writing schedule.
This now is not a try to justify myself or to nag at the people that request but I like to let you know why I haven't posted that much by sharing a glimpse into my personal life:
1. I am german and dyslexic, I take a lot of time to edit my stories, and I write them carefully. I do not have beta readers or anything else that checks my works for spelling errors, wrong grammar, or logic errors. Most of the time, I write a rough draft in german and translate it by myself into english, adding more key elements. I do not use any translation websites or any other tools to help me with that because it mostly changes how I want the sentences to sound.
2. I actually am a human with a private life.
I had to take a break from school due my mental health and dropped out for the year. Now I work a small side job as waitress. I work overtime to make ends meet. Writing is something like a hobby and I do it mostly on trains, busses or waiting in a parking lot when I come up with a draft. Only in the evenings or nights I find the time to sit on my laptop to form it into an actual 1k minimum story.
On top of that, I had a recent breakup and some stress among the family. I don't try to let my personal life affect the way I am on tumblr. But I have to admit that what I write is deeply connected with how I feel. Sunkissed for example was highly inspired by my past relationship. As Above So Below is a story where I deal with my own anxieties. What I write has a small part of me and it's what makes it so special. And I can't be writing all the time because there are more than enough situations where I can't even bring myself to eat three meals a day or do some chores.
3. My laptop and my Ipad are broken. My laptop is currently in repair, all my personal data including saved drafts, stories, ideas, the layout for AASB and personal pictures are GONE. My laptop will return in roughly 2-3 weeks. All I have left is my phone and let me tell you how gruesome it is to write stories on your phone. Especially when it's not a one day issue.
As stated above all my works have a minimum of 1k words. Most stories even reach inbetween 2-4k words and AASB has a minimum of 5k. Usually I write around 11k words a week minimum without requests counting.
4. Yes, I gave myself so much work. I decided to have so many on going projects myself and I work on it. But right now I just don't have the tools or the time to make everyone satisfied.
Thank you all for reading this. I just had to let this out of my head and I apologise for everyone that is unhappy, disappointed or angry at me. It's not something I can change right now and I can only ask you to have patience.
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yanderes-galore · 1 day
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DogDay vs Catnap from Poppy Playtime rivalry concept??
Sure! As usual, using my form of the characters. Deviates from Canon of course.
☀️DogDay Concept☀️
🌙CatNap Concept🌙
Yandere! DogDay vs CatNap Concept
Pairing: Platonic - Rivalry
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Jealousy, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Blood, Violence, Murder mentioned, Drugging, Isolation, Stalking, Possessive behavior, CatNap eats DogDay in one end, Forced companionship(s)
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Naturally, cats and dogs aren't usually big fans of one another.
While these two used to get along, as the years have passed they no longer do.
Far from it, actually.
CatNap becomes a predator, a creature that hunts other toys for food and fun.
DogDay, meanwhile, is a lost pup in the facility ever since all the workers were slaughtered.
There's actually two ways to view the rivalry.
You were a kid of one of the caretakers who created the Smiling Critter experiments.
That, or you were one of the creators of the experiments.
Either way allows both experiments to know you before the Hour of Joy... and potentially after the Hour of Joy.
Before the Hour of Joy, you knew the two experiments and their other friends.
CatNap and DogDay were the main ones who took to you.
If you were a child, the two often acted like babysitters.
Using my version of the two, they often stayed in their plush forms for you, regardless of if you worked there or if you were a child.
DogDay always acted like a guard dog while CatNap would put you to sleep and lay on your lap.
The two originally got along together.
There were some petty arguments, maybe barking and hissing at each other, but the two usually were fine once given attention.
Things are fine in the beginning.
In their young plush state you could look after them well or play with them.
DogDay would always follow you, barking like an excited dog always wanting to play.
CatNap, however, preferred to stay quiet.
He would always crawl onto you and purr when not putting you to sleep.
However, CatNap liked to be the one who put you to sleep then cuddled you.
Back then the two were well-behaved and many paid attention to them.
The smell of vanilla and lavender were always comforting scents during your time at the Playcare.
The only signs of rivalry were the occasional arguments or fights the two had before you separated them and gave them attention.
When you return to the facility after the Hour of Joy?
Everything's different.
Including them.
CatNap is a hunter who stalks through the facility, claiming Playcare as his territory and hunting grounds.
Meanwhile DogDay tries to stay out of the way, scars and blood covering his fur from previous fights.
The two used to never use their monster forms.
Yet once abandoned, it was their safest bet if they weren't hiding.
The other Smiling Critters either died of natural causes or due to them fighting with one another.
Now it's just DogDay and CatNap.
CatNap became the apex predator in Playcare, having a large den and being capable of gassing his prey with Poppy Gas.
DogDay, however, had learned to stay out of the way of the purple cat.
Soon, you make your return to the facility.
The two experiments back where you left them.
You're either a child all grown up who lost their parents here, or an old employee wanting to know where your coworkers went.
One way or another, you come searching for the truth.
Except... You end up finding old friends.
How I imagine the dynamic for the rivalry goes is this;
DogDay acts as your guide through the facility when he finds you again... while CatNap hunts you both down.
CatNap has tried to hunt DogDay down for a long time now.
Yet the dog has managed to evade the cat for the most part.
Most of the time DogDay has had to hide in his smaller form, only using his monster form when necessary.
DogDay finds you by accident... but thankfully he was the one to find you first.
He at first watches you from the shadows, unable to believe you're really... you.
DogDay hasn't seen you, or any human, in years.
All the ones he knew of were dead.
Yet here you are... alive... alone.
Why are you alone...?
DogDay would hesitate on approaching you at first.
Although, once he feels he's scouted out the situation enough...
He approaches in his plush form.
At first, you're nervous as every other toy here has tried to kill you.
Yet despite the scars and the blood... You remember this one...
This is your DogDay.
The reunion is quick yet cute.
You end up scooping the small orange dog into your arms, cuddling him close.
Vanilla and blood fill your nose, a strange combination, yet you can only focus on the adorable hound in your arms as he excitedly nuzzles you.
DogDay becomes your companion after this, refusing to leave the only friend he has now.
Plus... What if CatNap decides to hunt you?
Speaking of which... CatNap no doubt picks up on a familiar scent in his hunting grounds.
From the shadows you are followed by the much larger purple cat, body skeletal as he hunts.
He smells that dreaded dog... but he also smells you.
You are a figure he hasn't seen since he was a much younger cat.
Your scent still relaxes him... Until he notices DogDay nestled in your arms.
The rest of the rivalry would probably go similar to the game... with some changes.
First of all, DogDay is a constant companion you carry around as you explore and try to find an exit.
CatNap isn't hunting you to eat you... No... He's hunting you to keep you to himself.
While both of them have monster forms, a rivalry is a bit one-sided for one reason.
Poppy Gas.
CatNap could easily put you and DogDay to sleep if he wanted to.
Except... The cat has always enjoyed a good chase.
DogDay would lay down his life to protect and care for you.
He's as loyal as a dog can get.
He loves you as his beloved friend, his angel.
There's times when you two think you're alone he's swap to his monster form just to keep you cradled against him when you need a rest.
Although, he prefers staying small to not scare you.
He may also just like being held by you.
DogDay isn't all that violent, but he'd do anything just to make sure you aren't taken.
Unfortunately... CatNap is a clever cat.
He stalks you two like you're both prey... Just so he can pounce when you two think you're safe.
While I personally think CatNap may come out on top in this rivalry, this could go two ways.
CatNap wins... or DogDay wins.
Eventually CatNap is going to get tired of stalking and waiting.
A confrontation would be the peak of this little game you're all playing.
Unfortunately... You're screwed no matter who comes out on top.
Let's talk about the more unlikely option... DogDay.
If CatNap finally decided to pounce and attack you and DogDay, the loyal dog would fight no matter what the outcome is.
Both experiments would fight tooth and nail to keep their beloved friend to themselves.
They've become animals, feral monsters that only know one thing.
Hunt.
Somehow maybe DogDay will come out on top, pulling away from the purple cat with blood around his mouth and paws.
He looks... terrifying after this.
He has his hunting instinct in full swing and only seems to soften once he sees his angel.
I feel, even though DogDay said he'd bring you to the exit and protect you... He ends up turning back on his word once he realizes he no longer has to hide.
He's in control of Playcare now, that and you;ve come back for him... You're all his!
Unfortunately... The dog would no longer wish to bring you home or out of the facility.
He apologizes for betraying you, but he doesn't want to be alone anymore.
Now... Now you have to stay with him.
DogDay promises he'll take care of you...
But your new home becomes Playcare, your loyal hound now at your side for as long as you live.
Then there's if CatNap wins.
He's been waiting ages to properly hunt this dog.
But now... CatNap has a new treat to play with.
CatNap would begin his attack by drugging you both.
With one big breath, Poppy Gas fills the room, leaving you and your loyal dog exhausted...
Before you eventually pass out.
By the time you wake up, you're in the purple cat's den.
He's curled around you, long furred tail wrapped around you like a snake.
You smell lavender wash over you... and the scent of blood... rot
You dread what that means... Yet as you look at the cat's sleeping face, you can see red around his mouth.
He's purring away... He no doubt devoured his friend before taking you in as his precious toy.
It terrifies you, the beast having not only found his prey...
But his old friend.
CatNap will never hurt you, even now he still cares for you.
However, you won't ever see the outside world again.
Once again... Playcare becomes your new home with your new forced furred companion.
Either end is a horrible way to be condemned to your fate.
You wish you could go back in time... to when these monsters were merely cute toys...
In reality, unfortunately, they were probably always monsters in the end... Just waiting to make their move.
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wc-confessions · 2 days
Note
I’ll do a full breakdown of why the news surrounding the Tencent animation disappoints me.
Disclaimer: while you can have criticisms about Tencent as they seem to be a controversial company, don’t use it as an excuse to be sinophobic. If your thoughts ever go to “well of course a Chinese production would suck” or something of that ilk, please stop right there. The main issues are corporate greed and laziness, not China. Got it? Time to carry on.
Firstly, it strikes me as more of a proof of concept than an actual announcement. It’s the most minor problem IMO, so I’ll let them off the hook. They probably wanted to make sure people knew it was being worked on.
Secondly, AI. Warrior Cats is an art-centric community; it’s no wonder fans are pissed. I don’t like AI art, you - a (probable) Warriors fan reading this - likely don’t like AI art, your father doesn’t like AI art, everyone here doesn’t like AI art. Which means I’m going to argue on a more technical side. Looking at the confirmed and possible AI art, I have a question. What do they achieve? They don’t fit with the style of the hand-drawn illustrations, they resemble galaxy cats in space, while that Yellowfang generation is just a bootleg of the reprinted Rising Storm cover. Their existence in the presentation is a waste of time and resources (literally, AI prompts use up absurd amounts of water). I’d rather them show exclusively human art because you can tell they’re going in a direction, even if it’s uninteresting.
Speaking of the presumably human art, oh boy. To start off mildly positive, I’ll say a majority of the illustrations are decent. You get some character designs and scene concepts. They’re clearly playing with art style. I don’t find them particularly ugly, so… good job! I suppose! Now, to address the elephant in the room: anthro cats. For the love of StarClan, I’m begging on my knees, don’t make these cats anthro in the final product. It would fundamentally break the entire series. They call humans “twolegs” for a reason! Go work on the Redwall movie if you want anthro animals.
Finally, my last concern. As of writing, there hasn’t been confirmation of the Tencent animation being a movie, TV show, or other. My opinion on a TV show is “it’s fine.” Warrior Cats is a long series, making it suitable that it gets a longer adaptation. Meanwhile, my hope for a Warriors movie is as big as a single grain of sand. 
Warrior Cats is borderline unadaptable when it comes to shorter-form media unless you want to dish out a pretty penny. We can already see this with the Prophecies Begin graphic novel; it’s transparent HarperCollins or whoever is in charge of these things didn’t want to pay for six TPB comics, so they had to hastily mash two books together in one. If the Tencent animation is a movie, I’m afraid some concepts already have signs of this. Multiple pieces have what can be assumed to be Fireheart and Tigerclaw fighting. I’m sorry, but that happens later in the books. Are they going to scramble the narrative worse than the graphic novel adaptation? Are we seriously going to wait 20+ years for an official animation, watch at least one high-profile fan project get canned, only for it to be about as accurate as evil snipers in an action movie? If it’s not a movie, ignore what I’ve said. If it is a movie, sigh.
TL;DR: Should’ve made the Little Dragon Studios series official instead of forcing them to cancel, guys.
.
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closetcasefabray · 3 days
Text
jesus saves (i spend)
i have been writing parts of an avatrice college au for two gd years now. the ideas & writing are scattered between here (one of the tags below should work), my whatsapp convos with @snowandwolves, on discord, my dinosaur laptop that crashes, & my email. it’s a fucking disaster but whatever so am i & not once in my life have i had my shit together so this is all unsurprising.
SO what i’m saying is, here’s the only part i have ‘formally’ written in fic form bc i posted that other ficlet. doing this made me almost throw my dino laptop & my phone out a window on several occasions—that’s why there isn’t more. but i just wanna share this.
more notes & rambles at the end.
//
You notice her because it's syllabus week of your freshman year, it's an 8 AM class, and you're fairly confident you're still drunk from the party you attended last night, but she raises her hand and correctly answers a question posed by your theology professor without hesitation. Your professor, Father Vincent, was likely hoping for a good guess at best, but there she is, exceeding expectations from the moment she speaks. You pickup on an accent, which you would find incredibly attractive if you weren't so thrown by her perfect and concise response, like a well-prepared speech is always readily accessible in the back of her mind—a girl with all the answers. A young woman, really. 
You, however, are not—you're just a girl. You're just a girl who shows up to her morning classes smelling like the bar or the house party from the night before, like the weed you started smoking almost immediately upon arriving to university during orientation week, like the cigarettes you smoke because it affords you a little more quiet outside and an excuse to borrow a lighter and talk to a cute boy or a pretty girl.
You're just a girl who technically died, existed in nothingness for a whole minute before being ripped back into a reality of blank ceilings and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You're just a girl strangers prayed for after they heard about the American child pulled from the wreckage. You're just a girl who didn't get any credit for teaching herself to stand again, to walk again—and if you’re being completely honest, you’re a girl who’s incredibly bitter that a god you never saw in that one minute got all the credit and none of the blame—for taking your mother from you, for taking years from you that had to be spent healing from god’s grace or lack thereof. 
You're just a girl who is tired of being told to look at her life as an expression of holiness, who thinks it is more so the consequence of indifferent stardust. But you still look for the beauty in that, in humanity and its flaws—these meaningless beings in a vast universe, creating and destroying their own little, myopic worlds on this spinning rock. Some will dream of poetry for their lovers, and some will dream of arsenals to level cities. You wonder how many lips were pressed together in a final kiss versus hands clasped together in prayer when fire fell from the sky in the name of God. You wonder what that says about faith.
You'd like to think if your mother could see you, she'd laugh at the irony because once you were baptized, she never took you to church. God finds a way, so you spent five miserable years in a Catholic orphanage before you were sent back to America. People said you were lucky to have two years in a foster family at your age, but it felt like living with strangers who were tasked with the minimum of keeping you alive. Then you were moved into a home for teen girls with a nun at the helm, and that’s where you actually felt fortunate for the first time in years. It was there that Mother Superion helped you with your studies and college applications. So here you are, tipping into a hangover in one of the oldest buildings on campus, learning theology from a priest.
But your mom would understand. (You don’t remember much of her, and you try not to think about that too deeply, or else you have to deal with the resulting ache that comes from reaching inside yourself for something that’s gone.) You have spliced together what you can recall into a short reel—you mom buckling into your car seat while humming a show tune, showing you how to fold a pizza slice and telling about a city famous for their pizza, and holding your hand in a museum in Spain, promising to take you to another big museum closer to home, the home you never saw again. So you promised yourself and the parts of her you carry that you’d make it here.
You would have had to pay almost full tuition if you wished to attend your reach, requiring immense debt, so you ended up at the school that offered you a ticket to the city and a hefty enough scholarship you could get through four years without requiring loans or a full-time job to afford it. (You first refused to use your mother’s death as a sob story in you application letter, but Mother Superion put her hand on yours and said, So rarely do these letters contain truth, but do not be afraid to tell yours. In telling your truth there is a sadness, yes—and I know you detest pity—but of all the things that have been taken from you, do not feel guilty for taking some of it back to live a better life.) You remember getting your acceptance letter, and looking up at the sky and flipping it off, praying whatever god hears you, No thanks to you!
But your bitterness temporarily takes a backseat in your mind as you look at your classmate, beautiful in the refracted light shining through the stained glass window, speaking so graciously of god you'd think Jesus were in the room, about to hand her his latest work. It's poetry, bordering on scripture in a new tongue, and you'd almost be a believer if it didn't sound as if she had repeated these words—practiced—enough times to believe them herself. You wonder what that says about her faith.
If the nuns at the orphanage had spoken the gospel as she does, maybe you'd be here for different reasons. You're fascinated.
Behold, you are beautiful…
//
i promise this fic gets lighter & has some silliness. so some notes/tangents:
this is 100% self-indulgence bc i heard ‘write what you know’ & ran with that shit. when i visited a friend at a state school in a college town i was so so confused bc it was just a diff campus culture entirely. then i was going to make this set in an ambiguous city, but i literally have saved places in google maps that would be great places to kiss someone sooooo you get NY avatrice.
likely setting this before instagram & smartphones bc i’m old/lazy & i can.
the title is from st. vincent who my friend introduced me to in college. “paris is burning” changed my brain chemistry & so i listened to her music on repeat for ages—“jesus saves, i spend” is on the same album.
father vincent will not be a bad man or evil professor. he will be as he was before adriel—a lost man who found himself through god & still a little broken but caring & devout.
also song of songs/song of solomon is like… the only part of the bible i fucked with in theology class so that’s the reference at the end. also another line used in another scene with JC, chanel, & ava written in v rough form. maybe will share that later.
this is meant to be a fic with a post-grad sequel as well. not much written of that but a lot of ideas everywhere.
once i figure out where i’m moving (hahahaha i’m so stressed), i’ll consider a ko-fi or something (i wish emails & names weren’t shown though). but mostly i will likely need a second job to save up for an actually good computer/macbook. once i have that i’ll be able to post on ao3.
anyway thanks for reading & being here :3
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ravensvirginity · 1 day
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Titans #15 Review
Oh my god. Where do I even begin.
To start with my one and only positive: the art is gorgeous. Lucas Meyer is the best artist the Titans have had in ages, and his new Raven design really delivered. I'm so sad that it appears that the artist who'll be taking over for him in #16 is undoing his design changes, I think it's a massive shame. I did appreciate the detail of Raven's white cloak design having rings on her index fingers, but it feels a little pointless without the lore of Azar's rings to back it up.
Now, the negatives: literally everything else about this comic. This comic fails to deliver on an eight issue arc in any kind of satisfying way, has a bizarre and out of character tone, and severely misunderstands the lore of its main villain. They literally defeated Trigon with the power of friendship. Maybe that could work in Teen Titans Go, but in a main timeline DC comic? What?
First, the demon Raven stuff. Gar saying that demon Raven and regular Raven aren't two different people--yeah, obviously. The severe degree of separation between demon Raven and regular Raven has been one of the big issues of this arc, and this conclusion is as unsatisfying as the rest of it. Raven and her demon side being able to talk face to face isn't new, but them being two separate people with separate physical bodies who can operate completely independently of each other--while there is some precident for this, to me it's a very strange writing choice and misses the point of a demon Raven arc.
The original idea of Raven and her demon side was that her demon side is her. It's all the worst instincts she inherited from Trigon locked up and carefully controlled. When Trigon takes control of her and turns her into her demon form, everything she's repressed, both good and bad, is released. Raven still having a soft spot for the Titans in her demon form makes sense; she's still Raven, just corrupted by Trigon into something she isn't. Raven deciding to stop being evil (not that she even really was) and going back to normal from one brief conversation with her teammate does not, and is really anticlimactic.
It's just such a waste of the story's potential. If you don't want to commit to Raven being the villain of the story, don't do a demon Raven arc! It's possible to do a Trigon story without Raven being evil, I don't get why they didn't just do that. None of the drama with Raven being evil was particularly well executed, and all it seemed to do was drag the comic on longer and longer with nothing actually happening, because they were unwilling to make Raven actually do anything villanous.
All that pales in comparison to how they defeated Trigon. I don't think I've ever seen such blatant disregard for previous canon. As Raven, powered up by the other Titans, fights Trigon, Gar narrates as follows:
"I doubt Trigon has ever been in a fight. An actual fight. With someone his own size and power level. Never had to face someone like Nightwing one-on-one. Never tried to stand while being pinned by the power of Donna Troy's will. Never been blasted... with a giant-sized Apokoliptian blast from Cyborg. And never, ever... felt the full force of a Tamaranean hit powered by the stars."
WHAT?
This comic canonically takes place in the same timeline as the New Teen Titans. There are many homages to the New Teen Titans. It has been made very clear that the team started as the New Teen Titans, and then after many, many years of crazy comic book history the team reformed as the Titans of this run.
The first ever Trigon arc that introduces him and Raven as characters takes place in the first six issues of the New Teen Titans, and culminates in Trigon being defeated by the Titans and thrown into an interdimensional prison. I can't stress this enough: literally every single one of the things Gar said have never happened to Trigon happen in that fight. Donna uses her lasso to dampen Trigon's will, in combination with Raven and Arella's empathic abilities. Wally rips a hole through the fabric of reality to throw Trigon into, and Kory and Vic connect their powers to amplify their blasts to throw Trigon into the interdimensional rift. The whole thing is coordinated and managed by Dick Grayson (who was still Robin at the time).
Gar was there when all this happened. There is no reason for him to not know that this happened. The only explanation is Tom Taylor doesn't know, or he doesn't care. This would be disappointing for any comic book run, but it leaves an especially sour taste in my mouth for this to happen in a run that's so built on NTT homages. It's clear that the writing could not care less about the comic it was inspired by.
And then Garth causes Trigon to have a heart attack. Okay, that was just stupid. Admittedly, I did think the page of Raven stabbing Trigon was cool (again, the art is really the only saving grace here), but her saying "Fuck you, Dad"? Seriously? An ongoing problem in this run has been the dialog feeling janky and too much like lines from a generic superhero movie, and this line embodies that very well. I'm not opposed to swearing in comic books, but to me, this is not the right time for it. It doesn't fit the moment, and I think it's quite out of character for Raven, even if the sentiment behind it isn't.
And then Trigon isn't even dead? What does "Demons don't die. They just fade away." even mean?? Is he dead or not? Will he come back tomorrow or in a thousand years? It's such a strange, confusing letdown of an ending.
I didn't have high hopes for this issue, but it was somehow worse than I could ever have imagined. I'm so glad that this run is getting a new writer. Here's hoping that the coming issues will actually feel like a team book, and that the decades of lore and characterization of these beloved characters will actually be considered during writing.
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bnuuys-writing · 1 day
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Naga!Jamil x Reader x Roc!Kalim
Omg hiiii, its been a while everyone since i wrote something but here's the first part to something that's been pecking my brain for a while! Sorry its not the update for Vil's Moving Castle, i think im going to scrap it and rewrite it when I have more time.
This is only the FIRST part! I plan on writing a second part whenever i have free time again. Ive been picking away at this for a few weeks now. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
~BnuuyOut!
Well. This isn't how you imagined you'd die. Being cornered by a larger snake-like creature to where there was no escape in sight unless you'd like to jump straight into his fangs…
Let's start this over again, how did you even get in this situation again?
The weather was warm as you entered the freezing cold building. A weird zoo-like research laboratory where you were under contract to work for free because of how gracious your professor was… Ass… You sighed slightly as you tugged on the free lab coat that your professor offered to you that had holes in every pocket, and was that… Dried stains of spaghetti sauce? Ugh. Shaking your head slightly as you made your way to the cafeteria and quietly sat down near the back, waiting to see if this is something you'd have to leave immediately and never return back to, free or not. Minutes passed as others started to file into the room, chitter chatter filling up the room only for a certain crack of a whip to silence the audience within seconds.
“Welcome pups, to your first hybrid meeting of how to be a caretaker!” A man walked out, two dalmatians hounding at each side of him as two others seemed to wheel in cages covered with curtains.
“For those who don't know what you signed up for, which is absolutely idiotic if you didn't read the full internship form, this is a place where we find the extraordinary creatures, house them, and research them before safely releasing them back from whence they came!” The man had a puffy black and white coat, fur lined it seemed from your assumptions as it was just as beautiful as his personality. Rough.
“For those who do not know me! I am your new Professor, your new internship coworker. But more like your boss. If I find out one of you pups messed up something with what is mine, you will be expelled immediately.” Another crack of the whip caused some to flinch at the sound as he continued to ramble on. Yet, your gaze trailed off of him to the cages where you could've sworn you heard something rattling… Like a rattle maybe? Lowering your head just slightly in hopes of catching a small peek, you could only feel yourself tense up in your seat when you saw a glow of slitted eyes shine back at you for just a second. As for what was underneath the curtain, you couldn't figure out just yet. 
Though, snapping your gaze back to your new professor, he continued to speak about how all the students will be assigned to areas that, if they are lucky, will like. If not, they are more than happy to drop out, as for volunteering for a section? It will be all yours, if not with some partners will be either voluntold to join. A large shake at the cage on the left caused everyone to jump in their seats as Professor Crewel seemed to snicker at everyones reactions to the rattling cage. 
“This is our Roc, a creature that hunts over the seas, capturing up sailors from their ships and being able to lift up an elephant in its adult years. Though this one is smaller, only for containment reasons, its adult size was a little harder to capture yet, this one seemed to fit into the snare just like a glove.” Crewel states out as he ripped off the curtain of the cage, a large looking hybrid of a man and a bird, with white dazzling feathers and hair seeming to coat its body. Although it was impressively large, it didn't seem all too aggressive towards everyone, seeming all too delighted in seeing the new faces… Unless you were wrong and it was just looking at who was going to be its next snack. A louder hiss could be heard as Crewel stepped closer to the cage holding what was so called a ‘Roc’ only for the man to seem a big smug at the reaction.
“Now, before anyone can start placing bids on who wants to work with our Roc here, you must come to learn that this Roc comes with another. Although, he is always in a sour mood, they seem to be in some sort of a pact of service to each other. While one leaves peacefully and unbothered, this–” Nothing could stop the gasps of students as the curtain was ripped off of the second cage only for a very, very, pissed looking snake like creature to be staring right at Crewel, its tail flicking with its rattle to try and scare off the Professor. 
“--Creature, comes with it. This is a Naga, and as for its design and pattern, they come together in a pair. So! Who is willing to work with our Roc and Naga?” Professor Crewel stated as the naga creature seemed to turn its body towards the crowd and hiss violently, venom spitting out from its large fangs and dripping down the metal bars of its enclosure, causing it to steam just slightly. 
Silence filled the room. So quiet that you swore, you could almost hear a pin drop within the auditorium. 
“No offers? Our Roc seemed very well trained, and always seems excited to have new fresh blood in the enclosure with him. You’ll just have to try your luck in not getting stuck with our Naga here while you are around the Roc.” Crewel hummed out only for his gaze to land upon you. The only one not diverting your gaze from him. While the other students seemed to look upon the walls with such wonder, some already leaving the auditorium and dropping out from the course, and others seemingly looking sick as they looked upon the angry looking Naga with fear. 
“Ah, you. With the (H/C) and stained labcoat.” Fuck you Crewel. Slowly standing up, dread filling your heart as you heard some others around you, whispering thanks for not being chosen to be their handlers.
“I see great promise with you with these two…” Crewel hummed out with a smirk, as he nodded his head. Oh, how wonderful.
A month had passed since that moment in the auditorium, you had teammates until they all dropped out one by one as they learned more and more about the Roc and Naga together. It seemed from what the researchers had learned about them is that when the Roc lay their eggs and have to go hunting across the seas to pickup sailors for their meals, the nagas were left behind to obey and serve the children until their parents came back. Then came the story on how they captured the Roc and Naga here in the building. The Roc children has been learning how to fly, and the Naga had to follow their every movement so that they wouldn't become the next meal for them. Apparently the Roc in captivity fell from the sky right into the trap, and the Naga has been trying to free him when they were found only for both of them to get sedated and brought back to the research facility.
After observing how handlers dealt with them as well, you began to learn their patterns in making sure that you wont die once you step foot into the enclosure… Like today.
“Alright pup, go ahead on in there, and feed them. Remember, don't look the Naga in his eye, and try to stay over foliage so that the Roc doesn't scoop you up where you stand. Put everything we taught you into action.” And with a crude shove and a loud bang. Professor Crewel really was cruel in some ways, you supposed… Shoving you into the enclosure and shutting the door tight. 
Nevertheless. You were now in the warm enclosure. Alone. Minus two pairs of hungry eyes watching your every movement.
You were careful in your step, making sure to stay under the treeline and foliage in hopes of not getting swooped up by the large bird man. As well avoiding any droppings or anything that you might've mistaken as a snake tail. Buckets in each hand as you traversed the area smoothly, making sure to count your steps just in case you had to make a run for the door and memorizing where you were… Just in case…
You could see their food bowl essentially, a large stone carved into a bowl-like structure with a flowing manmade river for them to get fresh water. The only downfall was that the tree that usually hung over the bowl had fallen due to a storm a few days prior… So your only guardrail was missing. And these guys were hungry… 
“Alright.. You can do this… Show no fear and they'll have no reason to hurt you… Have confidence in your steps…” You whispered to yourself as you took a shaky step forward into the light of the day, no longer under the shady canopy protecting you from the Roc. With another step, you were getting closer and closer to the food bowl without any issues. Just as you neared closer and closer, movement in the corner of your eye was caught as you couldn't help but turn around just slightly… Ever so slowly in hopes of not pissing off whatever was there. 
Slitted eyes bore right into your eyes as you could feel the entrancing pull once again. Slowly, the world around you began to grow darker and darker, all you could see were these entrancing eyes, almost as if beckoning you closer with how they memorized you. Taking slow steps forward, a crack of a tree branch sounded way too close to you as this seemed to snap you out of whatever hypnotism the naga was performing on you. Taking a large intake of breath as you averted your eyes away from the snake man, only to throw it up to see a grinning feathery face a little too close to yours.
A hiss is what snapped you out from your trance from looking at the Roc creature. Shit. Without a second to spare, you ducked back under the foliage as you could feel your heartbeat pounding against your chest as your feet thudded against the ground roughly in hopes of retracing your steps. Yet, in your adrenaline flurry rush, you found yourself in a corner against one of the rocky mountains. Turning around to try and find another escape, you were met face to face with a very angry looking reptilian man. The naga, fuck.
Back pinned against the rocky surface, you could feel the forked tongue flicking out against your cheek as you avoided looking in his eyes at all cost, knowing it would cause certain death. 
Well, either way. This isn't how you'd expect how you'd die.
You could feel the hot breath ever looming closer and closer to you. Yep, even with those buckets of food, you know snakes prefer live meals… Meals that still has their blood pumping with adrenaline as they know they are being hunted down. As you felt death looming close to your neck, inching ever closer before a loud thump could be heard overhead as you were suddenly lifted up by two arms… Two feathery arms.
Blinking your eyes open, looking at the height you are being held over. The Roc, having lifted you up into his arms as he had landed on the mountain. The naga, seeming pissed as the Roc has just taken his meal, began to hiss loudly which… Sllliiggttllyy? Sounded like some type of serpent tongue?
Gripping onto the arms of the Roc, he began to chirp quite loudly into your ear as he squeezed you even tighter in his arms, a bright large smile on his face as his ruby eyes were looking down at the brown eyed naga… So his eyes weren't red, maybe that's when he was trying to hypnotize his prey..? This all seemed too much as you could feel yourself losing precious air by how tight the roc was holding you in his feathered arms. In your losing state of consciousness, you could've sworn you could understand them for just a second.
“Kalim! You know better than to snatch prey from me! That was supposed to be OUR meal!”
“But Jammiillll! They were just so cute, I couldn't just let you kill them!! You should've seen how surprised they were to see me up so close!”
“It doesn't matter, Kalim. Drop them before you get seriously hurt. They don't take too kindly to you holding our feeders.” 
As your mind slowly slipped into a state of consciousness, you could've sworn you heard a yell of Professor Crewel as you're lifted up into the air where sleep took you quickly in your state.
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goldenempyrean · 3 days
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Close Your Eyes
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〚 Notes - We haven't had a collab in a while, have we? I joined with the amazing @mapis-putellas on this so hopefully you enjoy! 〛
〚 Pairing - Supercorp 〛
〚 Summary - Lena is stubbornly working when she shouldn't be. Kara comes to bring her home. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 2,380 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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Kara had assumed it was nothing. In fact, she’d hoped desperately it was nothing. It wasn't like Lena hadn't woken up a little stuffy before. A little grouchy and clingy wanting to be held just that bit little longer than normal. If truth be told, it was quiet a common occurrence - especially during allergy season when all of that pollen was in the air.  
However today it seemed as though Lena had wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Kara’s gentle hand grazed softly over the bare skin of her back as she'd burrowed herself against her chest.  
For a second, Kara had assumed she'd fallen back to sleep. This wasn’t like ger at all. No matter what, she was always up and out of bed before the clock could even strike seven.  God forbid, a Luthor stay in bed idle while the day passed them by. 
That morning Lena had seemed a little more subdued than normal as she sipped her tea and forced down some breakfast, but Kara again had thought nothing of it and simply put it down to simply allergies and the fact she’d just woken up. She had no reason not to believe it. 
After a quick shower, Lena left for work, as usual. The only difference being was she hadn't kissed Kara goodbye before she'd left. Now that wasn't normal.  Kara’s brow furrowed a little as she watched the door close behind her, her distinct crinkle forming at the bridge of her nose. Something seemed off. 
There wasn’t much she could do now except finishing getting herself ready for the day. Lena was constantly in the back of her mind however. Kara had a habit of zoning in to Lena's heartbeat periodically throughout the day despite her duties as super girl. It wasn’t spying or anything malicious, it was just that hearing that rhythmic beating was comforting and reminded her about all the good in the world, especially after a rough fight or incident. However, each time today that she'd listened in, Kara had heard said heartbeat speed up for several seconds before returning to normal.  
Now, the blonde may had been a little naive sometimes, but she definitely wasn't dumb. She knew full well that they were sneezes. Sneezes of which Lena was trying, and apparently failing, to stifle.  Now she really knew something was wrong. 
Lena never sneezed. Not really. They'd been together for over two years and Kara hadn’t seen Lena had only sneeze in her company more than 3 times. She'd passed that record by triple today already, and it hadn't even been two hours since they'd departed for their respective jobs.  
Her suspicions only grew from there and she just about managed to refrain from flying over to L-Corp and demand Lena go home. Kara knew that that wouldn't go down too well. Especially when her girlfriend was a little more...cranky than usual.  
It was no secret that Lena was a workaholic. In fact, she'd told Kara just that not too long after they'd first started dating - almost as though she was trying to warn Kara away.  
It hadn't worked, obviously, and slowly but surely Kara had gotten used to spending most days by herself. She'd visit L-Corp most days with lunch, - because Lena was nortotrious for forgetting the fact that humans need do indeed need food to function, and after they'd eaten, Kara would manage to coax Lena into her arms for a few minutes of snuggles, and then back to work it was.  
It was pretty much routine now. Their normal. And whilst Kara did sometimes wish they'd spend more time together, she'd gotten used to the fact that it was an uncommon occurrence. The last time they'd spend the entire day together was during her last solar flare just three short months ago.  
Lena had pretty much waited on her hand and foot, and had attended to every single one of her needs without question. She'd held Kara for hours on end, Kara's head on her chest and Kara's arms beneath her shirt, hands tenderly grazing over her bare sides. There had been lots of kisses too. Forehead. Nose. Cheeks, and lips.  
It was glorious, and despite the pain she was in, Kara had never wanted the day to end.  
Of course it had though.   
But apparently now, it was Lena's turn to be sick, which Kara was about 98.7% certain Lena was. The neglected 1.3% doubt was later confirmed when she'd gotten the phone call from Lena's assistant, Jess, pleading with Kara to come and get her girlfriend before she inevitably passed out.  
It had taken Kara mere seconds to make it to L-Corp, and with a deep sigh, - because she already knew Lena wasn't going to let herself be brought home without a fight, she pushed open the balcony door and slipped into Lena's office, meeting her girlfriends surprised look with a soft, yet hopeful smile.  
"Kara?" The sound of her voice alone has Kara's heart aching. It was so hoarse that it sounded painful.  
"Hi baby," She greeted her, walking over and crouching down. Lena turns in her chair to face her, and Kara automatically placed a hand on each of her thighs and gave them a soft squeeze. 
Lena sniffled wetly - a sound Kara decides to ignore, at least for now - before resting her hands atop of Kara's own. "What are you doing here?" She asked as she tilted her head to the side, and Kara had to physically refrain herself from awh’ing out loud as she interlaced her fingers with Lena's slightly smaller ones.  
"Jess called," was all she said, and that was all it takes for Lena's seemingly good mood to drop. She pulled her hands out of Kara's own and attempted to swivel herself out of Kara's personal space with a disgruntled look on her flushed face.  
Expecting this, Kara doesn't let this deter her and placed both hands on the arms of the chair preventing Lena from moving. Lena was visibly upset at this, eyebrows furrowing and lips falling into a small pout. Making it clear she wasn’t going to leave this, Kara reached to cup her chin and was met with Lena swatting her hand away and attempting to stand up. 
"Hey hey, no." Kara lightly chastised her, gently taking both of Lena's hands into her own. "You need to sit back down. I may be strong but I don’t think it’d look good if Jess walked in on me picking you up from the floor." She attempted to joke to ease the tension, and much to her relief, Lena's lips quirk up ever so slightly at the corners. 
"Jess called me," The blonde continued from earlier, doing her best to ignore the pleading look currently being sent her way. She hated confrontation. Especially with those she loved and Lena was the person she loved most in this world with the exception of Alex.  
She wanted so badly to leave Lena to her day because she hated seeing her girlfriend so upset, but she just couldn't bring herself to do so. She'd never forgive herself if she knowingly let Lena work herself to exhaustion like this. 
So, she took a deep breath and forced herself to continue, "She called me and told me you were sick. And baby, you look it. You shouldn’t have even come in today.” 
Lena sniffled again; her green eyes considerably shiny with the onslaught of tears. "Kara..." she trailed off pleadingly, her voice breaking. By now, she was becoming considerably flushed in the face, her brow damp with sweat, telling Kara it may be best to hurry up and finish with this conversation so she could take her home.  
"I must admit I was suspicious from the second you woke up this morning," The pad of Kara’s thumb softly began grazing over her feverish skin. "I should’ve said something then but I decided to let you trust your own judgment, which I realised now may not have been the best decision."  
Lena, despite her obvious inner turmoil, leaned into Kara's soft touch, telling Kara all she needed to know. "Let's go home, okay?" She rises to her feet and holds out her hands.  
Lena frowns, "Kara, no. I have to work. You know that. I can't-" 
Okay. Attempt two it was.  
"Can't what? Be sick? Leave your job for one measly day so I can take care of you?" She wasn't opposed to getting a little defensive herself if it meant Lena would actually listen to her.  
Lena frowned at her, "That's not fair. You know how much this job means to me. I can't just-" she abruptly cut herself off, and for a second, Kara was concerned and watches as Lena's nose twitched and lips quivered. Seconds later, Lena pitched forward into her seat and sneezes both loudly and wetly into her hands.  
"Hts'choo!"  
Kara let out a quiet sigh as she grabbed two tissues from the almost empty box on Lena's desk and once again crouched down in front of her. She offered them out without a word as her hand comes to rest on the small of Lena's back, and the woman shyly took them from her with a somewhat embarrassed look on her face before softly blowing her nose.  
Kara waited patiently as Lena disposed of said tissue before she squirted some sanitiser onto her hands. She knew it may be best to give her a few moments to gather herself because the next time she attempted this conversation, she wouldn't be asking. 
In the meantime, Lena sniffled again and leant back in her chair as she looked up at Kara through tired, glassy eyes. Kara knew it was time for her to go home. Staying here would only do more harm than good and she knew that secretly, Lena would also much prefer to be cuddled up in bed rather than sitting uncomfortably at her desk. 
So this time she tried a different approach, “As L-Corp’s CEO, it’s your responsibility to make sure your company performs at its best, right?”Kara began, and waited for Lena to nod in acknowledgment before she continued, “You’re sick and quite clearly it’s contagious from the way the security guard I passed was sniffling. As CEO, It’s your responsibility to make sure your staff are doing the best job they can do and well, they can’t do that if they’re also coming down with whatever nasty bug you’re fighting, can they?” 
“So, it’s not only in the best interest of yourself but also your company if you be brave, admit you’re not feeling the best today and let me take you back home.” Kara finished. Her logic was irrefutable, even Lena could understand that. 
The ravenette seemed to fight herself on what to do before after a few long seconds, finally giving into the smallest of nods. That was more than enough for Kara. She reached down and helped Lena up, pulling her waist up and towards her into a hug. She could feel Lena hold her breath as she rested her head onto her shoulder, seemingly trying to stop herself from breathing heavily or sniffling. 
“You’re okay love, just relax.” Kara whispered as she rubbed her back as Lena let out a long shaky exhale, “You’ll be okay, I promise. A nice hot bath and some snuggles on the sofa is just what you need. Thank you for letting me taking you home.” 
“M’sorry I’m so stubborn, I know it’s difficult-” Lena began but was cut off by Kara shushing her gently, her hand reaching down to take it into her own as she led her towards the door. 
She pushed open the door and held it as Lena walked through, “I knew what I was signing up for. Yes, you’re as stubborn as anything and it can be a real pain in the... anyway, regardless of that I still wouldn’t change you for the world. You’re my Lena Luthor and I love you.” Kara finished by kissing her softly, making up for the one she lost this morning. The two stayed like that for a minute until Lena had to inevitably break away to breathe. 
Kara smiled softly as Lena took a deep breath, the strain still visible on her flushed face. “Come on, let’s start getting you home.” She said quietly, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend’s waist as they headed towards the elevator. She could feel Lena leaning more of her weight against her, a clear sign of just how exhausted she was.  
The ride down to the lobby was quiet, save for the occasional sniffle or cough from Lena. Some curious people glanced at them curiously as they passed by, but no one dared say a word. Jess stood by the front desk, looking relieved as they approached. She gave her an appreciative nod, a gesture she knew Jess understood. She made a mental note to buy her some flowers or a small gift at a later date. 
In the meantime, Kara continued to guide Lena out of the building and into her waiting car. She helped her settle into the passenger seat, buckling her in with careful hands. “Just relax, okay?” she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Lena’s face. 
The driver looked at her curiously, “Where to Miss Danvers?” He asked as Kara climbed in the backseat at the other side. She thought for a moment as Lena scooted over a little to lean against her side, letting her head drop onto her shoulder. 
The blonde couldn’t resist cooing quietly at how clingy her previously stubborn and crank girlfriend had become, “Pharmacy first please then back to our apartment. Thank you.” She turned to Lena, letting her hand come to the back of her hair to gently undo the tight ponytail she’d had it pulled up into. Instantly she could feel Lena’s expression soften slightly as the pressure in her head relieved just a little, “Just close your eyes and sleep love. I’ll get everything we need and when you wake up, we’ll be back home, okay?” 
The Luthor sighed softly and nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as she quietly whispered, “Thanks Kara.” 
“You’re welcome sweetheart.” 
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George Orwell: On Poetry
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Excerpts from George Orwell's essay, "Poetry and the Microphone" published in The New Saxon Pamphlet, No. 3. March 1945
It is a commonplace that in modern times—the last two hundred years, say—poetry has come to have less and less connection either with music or with the spoken word. It needs print in order to exist at all, and it is no more expected that a poet, as such, will know how to sing or even to declaim than it is expected that an architect will know how to plaster a ceiling.
Lyrical and rhetorical poetry have almost ceased to be written, and a hostility towards poetry on the part of the common man has come to be taken for granted in any country where everyone can read. And where such a breach exists it is always inclined to widen, because the concept of poetry as primarily something printed, and something intelligible only to a minority, encourages obscurity and “cleverness”.
How many people do not feel quasi-instinctively that there must be something wrong with any poem whose meaning can be taken in at a single glance? It seems unlikely that these tendencies will be checked unless it again becomes normal to read verse aloud, and it is difficult to see how this can be brought about except by using the radio as a medium.
People to whom poetry means something
That grisly thing, a “poetry reading”, is what it is because there will always be some among the audience who are bored or all but frankly hostile and who can’t remove themselves by the simple act of turning a knob. And it is at bottom the same difficulty—the fact that a theatre audience is not a selected one—that makes it impossible to get a decent performance of Shakespeare in England. On the air these conditions do not exist. The poet feels that he is addressing people to whom poetry means something, and it is a fact that poets who are used to broadcasting can read into the microphone with a virtuosity they would not equal if they had a visible audience in front of them.
The element of make-believe that enters here does not greatly matter. The point is that in the only way now possible the poet has been brought into a situation in which reading verse aloud seems a natural unembarrassing thing, a normal exchange between man and man: also he has been led to think of his work as sound rather than as a pattern on paper. By that much the reconciliation between poetry and the common man is nearer. It already exists at the poet’s end of the ether-waves, whatever may be happening at the other end.
Poetry is by far the most discredited of the arts
However, what is happening at the other end cannot be disregarded. It will be seen that I have been speaking as though the whole subject of poetry were embarrassing, almost indecent, as though popularising poetry were essentially a strategic manœuvre, like getting a dose of medicine down a child’s throat or establishing tolerance for a persecuted sect. But unfortunately that or something like it is the case.
There can be no doubt that in our civilisation poetry is by far the most discredited of the arts, the only art, indeed, in which the average man refuses to discern any value.
Arnold Bennett was hardly exaggerating when he said that in the English-speaking countries the word “poetry” would disperse a crowd quicker than a fire-hose.
The unpopularity & toleration of poetry
On the face of it, the unpopularity of poetry is as complete as it could be. But on second thoughts, this has to be qualified in a rather peculiar way. To begin with, there is still an appreciable amount of folk poetry (nursery rhymes etc) which is universally known and quoted and forms part of the background of everyone’s mind. There is also a handful of ancient songs and ballads which have never gone out of favour. In addition there is the popularity, or at least the toleration, of “good bad” poetry, generally of a patriotic or sentimental kind. This might seem beside the point if it were not that “good bad” poetry has all the characteristics which, ostensibly, make the average man dislike true poetry.
It is in verse, it rhymes, it deals in lofty sentiments and unusual language—all this to a very marked degree, for it is almost axiomatic that bad poetry is more “poetical” than good poetry. Yet if not actively liked it is at least tolerated.
The hostility to poetry
One must conclude that though the big public is hostile to poetry, it is not strongly hostile to verse. After all, if rhyme and metre were disliked for their own sakes, neither songs nor dirty limericks could be popular. Poetry is disliked because it is associated with untelligibility, intellectual pretentiousness and a general feeling of Sunday-on-a-weekday.
Its name creates in advance the same sort of bad impression as the word “God”, or a parson’s dog-collar. To a certain extent, popularising poetry is a question of breaking down an acquired inhibition. It is a question of getting people to listen instead of uttering a mechanical raspberry. If true poetry could be introduced to the big public in such a way as to make it seem normal, as that piece of rubbish I have just listened to presumably seemed normal, then part of the prejudice against it might be overcome.
More: George Orwell
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You and co-showrunner Tim Minear originally wanted Carlos (Rafael L. Silva) to become an APD detective, but you've now chosen to make him a Texas Ranger — which, it must be said, is an interesting choice, given that Carlos had been so insistent in the past on not wanting to follow in his father's footsteps. How would you respond to the criticism that being a Ranger goes against what Carlos initially set out to do?
Raisani: I think the Texas Rangers became an embodiment of Gabriel Reyes, Carlos' father. What I mean by that is … Carlos had grown up with a perception of his father, which is: "My dad is homophobic, or certainly uncomfortable with who I am. He made me feel shut out. He made me feel unloved, unvalued." Carlos' arc in Season 4 with his father was to realize, "My dad is a more complex and beautiful man than I realized, and even though it took him a minute to get there, he did get there, and we became ultimately best friends. I love and revere my father, and just in time for me to realize that, he gets killed and taken away."
I would encourage people to go back and look at that Texas Ranger episode [in Season 4] where Carlos talked about the massacre [where] the Rangers killed all those innocent people in the early 20th century. What [Carlos'] mother teaches him in that [episode] is, "Look, the Rangers, like any organization that's older than 20 years, have some blood on their hands, but they've also done a lot of good. And nobody represents the good that they have done like your father." She talks about how the diversity of the Rangers has increased, which is real. They went from being all-white to now 33% or 40% [people] of color and women. "Your father embodied that change, and now you can take that legacy and take it to the future."
To me, Carlos' arc was to realize Rangers are not just inherently evil. "Yes, they have a bad history, but just like my father who I had a bad history with, they're more complex than I was giving them credit for. And rather than just spit them out and reject them, I can be the change in that organization." So that's what Carlos is going to do, and that's the symbolic relationship that he has with the Rangers.
But in a purely plot relationship, there's no better way to solve [the mystery of] "Who killed my dad?" than to be inside that organization, because Carlos believes — and I think rightly so — that some of the cases that his father worked on may end up having something to say about who killed him. So that's what I would say to people who maybe have some doubts about that.
Carlos bumps heads with Ranger Sam Campbell (Parker Young) on a big case in the premiere, but they seem to have formed a new partnership by the end of the hour. How would you describe the evolution of their relationship this season?
Raisani: I feel like they're two brothers vying for daddy's love. The dad is the chief, the older brother is Campbell, and Carlos is this pipsqueak young brother who just got to the front of the line and now he's a Ranger. And in Campbell's mind, some of it is because, "OK, this is some nepo baby stuff. Your dad was a legend, and you just get to waltz to the front of the line." We built this little family of brothers and a father, so the first episode is really about Carlos and Campbell in a foot race with each other. And then what they realize by the end of [the premiere] is, "Boy, we're a lot more effective when we work together. And in fact, we make a pretty amazing partnership."
Moving forward into the season, we get to play just how complementary these two pieces are together. One of the things I personally love about the Rangers, which we can't do from simple 9-1-1 calls, is they can go into some much more complex, deeper investigations against much darker bad guys and much more real-world problems that are happening in Texas — cartels and with drug smuggling and stuff like that. So we'll do some cases that I think people can't believe are real. But we'd never had the opportunity [to do those stories in the past], because we didn't have that vehicle to get into these stories like we do now that Carlos is a Texas Ranger who gets to investigate the darkest, most dangerous crimes that are happening in Texas.
Carlos' investigation into Gabriel's death will certainly drive a wedge between him and T.K. (Ronen Rubinstein) this season. How has Carlos and T.K.'s relationship evolved now that they've been married for almost a year?
Raisani: What I wanted to show with their relationship this season is that people can love each other with everything they've got — and everybody has challenges in their relationship. To love someone completely doesn't mean you're not going to fight all the time, and yet you can use [that conflict] to make the relationship deeper and more meaningful. We didn't want it to be happily ever after. For me, in real life, the wedding is the beginning of the story — not the end — and there are so many more deeper stories you can tell once people have that level of commitment towards each other.
We really wanted to put some pressure on that relationship. For T.K. especially, it's like, "You love Carlos. You want him to get that closure, that peace, that can come from finding out his dad's killer." But also, T.K. is a former addict who knows he's seeing signs of addiction, and Carlos is addicted to this thing, and it's clouding over and suffocating other elements of their future together because Carlos is so focused on what happened in the past. T.K., because he loves Carlos, will be patient and graceful about it, but at some point, he's going to have to put his foot down — and it's going to be very uncomfortable when he does.
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i JUST ordered ubereats
(in order of appearance: vincent - avior - milo - lasko - brachium - david - vega - huxley - vindemiator - asher - damien)
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feline-evil · 5 months
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Dick or no dick confirmation Pickles was always going to be trans to me anyways; if he's swingin' somethin that's phallo babes, if he's not then his t-dick fat. What's not to get.
#metalocalypse#jay talkin#I'm sorry they wrote that awful gross little man far too likeable and relatable to on a trans level#for me not to hoot and holler and cheer for the trans pickles agenda#changes nothing about his character arc or any of the show anyone is capable of being the kind of person he is#don't make the mistake of thinking thats exclusive to cis men#his transness wouldnt change that#only adds on an extra layer to him that i think works fantastically.#Listen that dude was rejected by his family driven to drink and drugs young to escape that ran away to be in a band#is called fucking Pickles of all things and refuses to tell anyone his real last name;#over the span of four seasons and two movies he slowly starts to learn to be for others what he never had#he becomes more caring more supportive#it's not a stretch to say he undoes some of the toxic masculinity he's been keeping himself shielded behind#and learns how to be a kinder man.#all of which have no contradictions with him being trans!#In fact it doesn't take much extra thought to find ways a lot of this can line up with some trans masculine experiences#i mean. Did no one else have a younger phase where they swung as far as they could into crass rude and uncaring ways#to try and assert their masculinity only to grow and realise that you can be a man and be more caring.#Did no one else have father issues. 1 800 come on now i know those are both shared experiences a lot of us have had LOL.#at the end of the day this show aired nearly 20 years ago and is finished. we're not getting more of it#so nothing is altered nor changed if pickles is canonically trans or not ok. its fine#i mean hell i dont even need canon confirmation hes trans to me and thats all i care abt#but i think if yr getting suuuuuper weird abt needing him not to be canonically trans you have some issues#and bio essentialist ideals of gender if you think only a cis man can act like he does#again. anyone can be like that. its not exclusive. him being trans would not change him in any way shape or form lol#AND ALSO GODDDUUUGH for once i love getting to see a guy pushing 50 whos depicted as trans#do you have any idea how dire and barren it is out here. we never get to see a trans guy older than 30 and whos not a pristine model#I WANT MORE OLD SHLUBBY SHITHEAD TRANS GUYS IN MEDIA
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averlym · 1 year
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some very very quick costume shorthands!
#&juliet#had the absolute luck of watching this live the other night and it was. truly amazing!!! aaah#rough character designs for the younger leads (excluding like the Grown adult duos..) because?? idk#this is how it always starts. once the character designs start getting simplified like this that's when it all begins#which is hmmm timing but i really can't shut up about this musical it was so so fun. absolute vibes and energy#made me laugh and cry and was such an Experience. i adore them all but may specifically made me sob at some parts dfjkldfh#lots of thoughts! but one of the favs is how they wrote it so the existing songs and actions fit so well.#like in a rhyming bit they had frankie accept a drink and then the song was like ''drink in hand'' and i was all !!!!!!#also maybe it's local censorship? but there wasn't the kisses.. they replaced it w kissing hands and then holding hands#which is like a cute nod to the ''hand to hand holy palmers kiss' or smth but also maybe two guys doing that would not have made it past :/#oh my god i. the way rnj parallels the shakespeare duo... whdskjfhgh. may + not being a Girl kdjhgf. frankie and may. aaagh.#angelique being so so badass. i . the speech about Gender by anne and the Proposal by angelique both made the whole theatre cheer love that#also rotating stage lives in my mind rent free i ADORE the set holy moly.. also also the actors were so good. also the Projections.#also the music and costumes and special effects and aerial moments. and the ensemble. and the choreo#also the cast is so talented. and pretty. and the whole confidence part vs the vulnerability of some bits... whshjfgjkl. hhh#im just listing stuff now but it was so vibes. what an experience ever. it's also shot me directly into 14-years-old again so#spent the morning alone vibing to the soundtrack intensely... i just... sometimes things hold special places in your heart idk!!!#i don't know what to do with these designs though... like the show is such a lovely Spectacle but also idk where to branch out by myself no#there's so much to Absorb again and again. i get the feeling any true work from this i would do in a form of an animatic though.. oops#tldr? 1. &juliet very good just as itself 2. we have History 3. i got to see it live which always propels me into bonkers over musicals!#so so rough but i needed to get smth out and . whatever. an art blog is an art blog. back to hiatus now i think#<reminder to myself: this is essentially an artchive.. there's no quality control if you don't want it! have fun!! ily>
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