larasantosrb

[stuckinapril]

I think there’s something to be said for the fact that I used to dread presentations when I was younger but now plan to go out of my way to sign myself up for them so I can improve my public speaking. Me from not even two years ago would’ve never. But now ?? The more the merrier let me at them

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • II

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 3.8K

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares.

Authors note: Chapter Two: Something of the past- (EDITED: 09-03-24) songs are One of Us by the world alive and Broken glass by unprocessed ;)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

+

I smiled at the brunette, feeling grateful for his willingness to listen. He returned the smile and gave me a knowing look, almost as if he understood.

Noah's attention turned toward the houses we passed. His gaze was intense as he scanned each one carefully.

"Sorry for dumping all that on you," I said with an uncomfortable laugh. "I don't know why I just told all that to a stranger."

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "We're not strangers anymore," he said. "More like acquaintances."

I felt reassured by his words and couldn't help but ask about him. "So what about you? You seem pretty mysterious."

Noah fell into silence, his brows furrowed in thought once again. His gaze scanned the grass intently as if searching through memories. Eventually, he turned back to me with a small grin.

“I���m…just Noah,” He said; but as I stared into his eyes, devouring his soul, I saw that he was much more than that. His eyes held a depth of emotion that hinted at hidden truths and untold tales. But I didn't push. After all, we had only just met.

"Well, 'just Noah,'" I said with a playful smile, "I'm glad our paths crossed today."

He returned my smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Me too. More than you know."

+++++

NOAH

Jolly's angry voice cut through the air as he yelled, "Where the fuck were you? We've been waiting for hours!"

I slammed the door of our dingy motel room, shooting him a sharp look. "Nowhere, mom. Not like you need to know," I retorted.

He stepped forward, getting close enough that our chests almost touched. "You’re right. I don't care what you were doing or who you were doing. But you know what time you need to be back and you're late," he scolded, pressing his finger into my chest.

I pushed against him, creating space between us as I furrowed my brow. "Fine, sorry. I lost track of time," I muttered, throwing myself onto the cot that served as my bed. I let out a heavy sigh and buried my cheek into the musty pillow. As I stared at the retro 80s carpet on the floor, I traced the faint outline of a bloodstain left by Ruffilo last week when he cut his knee open during a job.

"It's your turn, Noah," Nick Folio announced, plopping a backpack onto the table as he reclined in his chair with his legs crossed on top of it. He had a joint dangling from his lips, the smoke billowing out between his teeth.

"I hate doing this shit," I grumbled in protest, shaking my head as I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes for a moment.

"Too bad," Jolly snapped, his voice still laced with anger. "We all have our parts to play. Now get your ass up and do your job."

I groaned, forcing myself to sit up on the cot. The springs creaked beneath me, a sound that had become all too familiar in our weeks of hopping from one seedy motel to another. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the exhaustion that clung to me like a second skin.

Nick tossed the backpack towards me, and I caught it reflexively. The weight of it made my stomach churn. I knew what was inside without having to look.

"Remember," Folio said, taking a long drag from his joint, "in and out. Quick and clean. No fuck-ups this time."

I nodded in annoyance, my throat tight. The last job had gone sideways, and we'd barely made it out. All thanks to me. Again.

“Just this one for the week brother. Then you don’t need to worry about it till next week.” Nicholas Ruffilo said, smiling at me gently. He knew I hated this. He knew I wanted it to stop.

He tossed me my gloves and mask, the fabric hitting my chest eliciting another annoyed groan from me. Grudgingly, I pulled on the black leather gloves to cover up my tattoos and shoved the mask into my pocket.

I couldn't contain my frustration any longer as I stood up. "How many more weeks do we have to put up with this shit?" I snapped, looking at Nicholas for support. He placed his hands on my shoulders, trying to calm me down.

"I know," Ruffilo said cautiously, knowing how on edge I was.

Jolly let out a bitter laugh. "What else can we do, Noah? Pull a million bucks out of our asses?"

I loved Jolly, I really did. He was my oldest brother for as long as I can remember- but fuck, did I ever want to punch his face into the wall sometimes.

The Swede sat back in his chair next to Folio and continued, "You know the deal. We do what we have to do to survive. How else are we going to pay back D?"

I shrugged off Nicholas' hand and muttered under my breath as I grabbed my combat boots and kicked my old black vans under the cot. As I leaned down and tied up the laces, memories of past jobs flooded my mind and regret weighed heavily on me, knotting together past mistakes.

Cracking open a beer, Jolly took a swig before saying, "Don't forget that you're the reason we're stuck in this mess."

My head shot up, eyes meeting his intense gaze. A red hue adorned my skin as my ears burned with embarrassment and anger, "What's that supposed to mean, you fucking prick?"

Jolly raised his voice, leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees. "I'm tired of hearing your complaints, Noah. Do you think any of us enjoy this? Do you think we want to keep living this way? Don’t blame us for the work when you fucked us over first.”

My chest heaved with irritation as his words cut deep. "I was fourteen!" I shouted, spittle flying from my mouth. "I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't told me to in the first place!"

Nicholas reached for me, holding out an arm across my chest to force me back. I aggressively swatted his hand away and grabbed the backpack, tossing it over my shoulder.

"I never told you to do anything," Jolly growled, watching as my fists clenched and muscles tightened.

"You're the one I was supposed to look up to!" I yelled.

Jolly scowled, muttering between his teeth, “It's not my fault your parents died.”

Both Nick’s turned to look at him with furrowed brows of disappointment as my heart raced, my palms sweating.

"Don't you dare bring them into this!" I screamed, seething with anger and ready to pounce on the long-chestnut-haired man in front of me. Nicholas wrapped his arms around my chest, pulling me away. I struggled against him, closing my eyes in fury as I fought back the tears that threatened to spill.

Just an hour ago, I had been sitting with one of the most beautiful humans I had ever laid my eyes on. It was risky spending time with someone I had just met, especially someone like Y/N. She seemed so brave, so gentle...so worthy.

How could someone captivate me so quickly? It left me baffled. I knew I was completely infatuated with her, and I already found myself craving to see her again. I've gotten coffee from that same cafe almost every day for a year; it's the only stable part of my routine. Everything was always the same - the coffee, the customers, the servers...except for Y/N. Seeing her there threw off my rhythm. It almost felt like she was purposely placed there just for me- like a breath of fresh air in my dull, grey, lifeless world. There was something about her - the way she spoke, her mysterious aura, her quick wit, and those beautiful fucking eyes.

But here I was, my unworthiness weighing heavily on me, reminding me that I didn't deserve anyone's love or attention.

Nick snapped me out of my thoughts by offering me a hit of his joint, trying to ease the tension between us. I took a puff and handed it back to him, nodding when Nicholas asked if I knew where we were headed next.

"I've been looking at this neighbourhood near the coffee shop," I told them, trying to act nonchalant. "I scoped out some places earlier. Lots of elderly folks, so they probably have some valuable stuff."

“Don’t you think that area is a little risky?” Nicholas said, raising a brow, “We spend enough time around there...as us.”

I shrugged, “Close together and tight nit. Enough places to hide.”

Nick suggested bringing a gun for intimidation, and I agreed. It was all part of the plan, even though a small voice in my head questioned what I was doing.

My finger grazed across the metal. Even through the glove, I felt its cool, metallic texture, my mind jumping back to the woman held before it earlier.

What am I even doing?

Shoving the gun into my waistband I opened the motel door, “See you guys later.” I nodded to each of them, eyes lingering on Jolly for a moment longer.

“Text if you need anything,” Jolly said through gritted teeth, taking another sip of his beer, and avoiding my gaze.

I left the motel room and walked down the wooden stairs, passing the rundown vinyl wall that lined the entire building.

As I passed the paint-peeled doors listening to various arguments, and the sounds of sex. The familiar scent of weed and stale alcohol lingered on the cement, decades of grime living within the premises, never fully washing away. As pathetic as it was, it smelled and sounded like home. It was all I had.

I pulled my hood over my head, letting my hair cascade as a shield around my face, my legs carrying me through the neighbourhood. It was 12:3am on a Wednesday, the nightlife bare as only a few cars passed by me, unaware of my felonies. I wasn’t sure which house would be my victim tonight, but I prayed, to whoever God was, that it would be quick. Get in get out.

Placing an earpod in my ear, I scrolled through songs, before choosing The Apparition. Perhaps, if this is all a dream, I can go back to the time I met her.

But truthfully, ignorance is bliss; and I was tired of consciousness.

And yet, here I am, still haunted by everything that has happened.

And it remains With me to this day

No matter what I do This scar will never fade

+++++

Y/N

I signed off at my job, releasing a heavy sigh after a gruelling 12-hour day. The four-hour shift at the bar was a relief, but I still felt drained, knowing that I only had 8 hours until I had to be back at the cafe for another round.

As I walked out into the chilly 1 am air, I reapplied my red lipstick to soothe my dry lips. Thankfully, home was just a short ten-minute walk away, and the thought of my warm bed and my cat waiting for me kept me going.

But even in my exhaustion, I couldn't shake off the excitement of meeting Noah earlier that day. His charming smile and mysterious demeanour lingered in my mind, making my heart flutter with butterflies. Was this just a one-time thing? It was hard to believe that I went on a 'date' with someone I had just met, but then again, work was pretty much all I did. My life needed a little bit of thrill and adventure.

As I hummed to myself, hoping for a text from Noah in the morning, I pushed aside the dread of working again tomorrow. Lost in fanciful daydreams, I reached my townhouse and inserted the key into the lock; only to realize that I may have left it unlocked in the morning when I was exhausted.

Shit, did I really forget to lock it? That's not like me...

With furrowed brows, I opened the door and double-checked that it was locked before stepping inside. But something felt off - there was no sign of my orange cat Juice by the door as usual. And none of the lights were on, even though I always left the living room lamp on so it's not completely dark by the time I got home.

"Juice?" I called out nervously as an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. Something was not right. The house was quiet and still as I made my way cautiously towards the kitchen.

"Juju baby? Where are you?" I called out, flicking on the bright kitchen light. What was once the comforting warmth of home, now turned into a thick sense of dread as I placed my bag on the counter, eagerly awaiting my cat's response. But instead of a familiar meow, I heard the floor above me creak in a rhythmic pattern that was definitely not feline in nature.

My heart pounded and my breath caught in my throat as I froze in place. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as goosebumps prickled along my skin.

I strained to listen for any other sounds, but all was quiet except for the occasional rustle coming from upstairs. Adrenaline surged through me as I reached for the largest kitchen knife from the block, gripping it tightly as I crept towards the stairs.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I cautiously ascended the stairs from the kitchen. With each step, I couldn't help but think, this is how people get murdered in horror movies, you dumb bitch, but it was too late to turn back now.

Finally reaching the top, I turned on the hallway light and scanned the darkened doors illuminated by moonlight streaming through the windows. My bedroom door slowly creaked open and a figure emerged.

My heart stopped and panic seized me until I realized it was just my cat; wide-eyed and meowing. "Jesus Christ, cat!" I scolded, overcome with both fear and relief as I fell to my knees and scooped him into my arms. His soft orange fur was a welcome comfort as I ran my fingers through it, rubbing my face along his head. He didn’t pur like usual though.

"You scared the absolute shit out of me," I laughed shakily, kissing his head before setting him down. Juice wriggled free from my grasp and darted into my room. Shaking my head with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, I placed the knife on the banister and followed him, grateful for his presence in the otherwise empty house.

Perched on my bed, Juice hopped to attention as soon as I entered the room. His tail flicked back and forth eagerly as he stared at my mirrored closet, emitting a series of demanding meows. I flipped on the lamp next to my bed and approached him, reaching out to pet him. "What's wrong, buddy? Are you hungry?" I asked, even though I knew his bowl was full downstairs.

He continued to meow and I shook my head, pulling off my sweater and tossing it into the hamper.

"What is up with you-" I started to say before a gloved hand covered my mouth, muffling my words.

Panic flooded through me as another arm encircled my waist, holding me tightly against the stranger's chest, and my eyes widened with fear as I looked up at them, unable to scream for help.

I could feel their heart pounding against my back, their harsh breaths mixing with mine as they turned our bodies towards the mirror. Tears welled up in my eyes as I saw the reflection of the menacing figure behind me. Their entire body was covered except for their eyes and mouth, peering out from behind a black ski mask.

I whimpered helplessly against their hand as my stomach dropped at the sight of the gun poking out from their black cargo pants.

The most terrifying thing of all was the distinct scent of Dior cologne that filled my nostrils, making my heart race even faster with fear.

His voice, with its distinct accent, burned into my memory as he spoke the words that filled me with dread. In the mirror, I saw him - Noah. The cologne, the voice, it had to be him. I knew I should have never gone out with a stranger. How could I have been so foolish?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He said slowly, words filled with worry and caution.

Tears streamed down my face as I shook and cried, his hand still covering my mouth. He followed me home, and now I was paying for my stupidity. But I wasn't going down without a fight.

"I'm going to leave," he said calmly, "and you're going to let me. Understood?"

I nodded against his grasp, my eyes glued to his every move through the tears. He closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, his body moulding into my back.

Did he know that I knew who he was?

There was no way I was going to let this asshole get away with whatever he had planned for me.

"Please don't scream," he said, loosening his grip slightly. As soon as he let go, I spun around and kicked him with all my might in the groin area.

He fell to his knees, letting out an agonizing groan as he held himself in pain. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I ran into the hallway and grabbed the knife from the bannister.

"You fucking creep! You followed me!" I screamed, brandishing the knife at him. "You're a lowlife piece of shit! Get out of my house or I'll call the cops on your sorry ass…Noah." His name tasted like bile in my mouth as it escaped from between my lips.

While shaking with anger and fear, I pulled out my phone and dialled 911. Noah crouched in front of my bedroom door, pain etched on his face.

"I swear to god, Y/N, I didn't know this was your house," he said, desperation in his voice. "Please, don't call the cops."

"Why shouldn't I?" I yelled back at him, my thumb hovering over the green call button.

"Just...just please don't," he pleaded, pressing himself against the door. But it was too late for him to try and play innocent. I pressed the button and held the phone up to my ear as it rang, arm still holding the knife toward him.

Noah's eyes widened with panic before his hand reached for the gun tucked into his waistband. Time slowed as he pulled it out and pointed it at me, causing me to freeze in fear. The 911 operator's voice was muffled by the sound of my racing heart.

"Hang up," Noah whispered, his hands shaking with the weight of the gun. "Y/N, please hang up."

"Hello? Are you still there?" The voice on the other end of the line asked, repeating the question over and over.

"Y/N, please hang up," Noah repeated, his voice urgent.

“Hello?”

Noah held out his other hand, palm up as if inviting me to take it. It was a stark contrast to the gun he held in his other hand.

The phone fell from my grasp, landing on the carpeted floor with a dampened thud. He quickly reached for it and ended the call.

As he let out a relieved sigh, guilt washed over him. He hung his head and tossed the gun toward the bathroom before removing his mask, revealing the face I had been longing for just hours earlier.

The brunette looked shattered and torn as he watched me crumple before him, my panic attack consuming me.

“I-I didn't mean to scare you. I-I” Noah stammered frantically as he moved closer to me, “I can’t have the police involved- I can’t leave my brothers.”

I collapsed to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest while staring at the gun near the bathroom. Fear overtook me and I began to hyperventilate.

“I swear, I won’t hurt you,” Noah said as he leaned down in front of me and took hold of my wrists.

I struggled to breathe, trying to pull away from him but felt paralyzed, and my breathing became erratic as I felt like I couldn't exhale.

“Breathe,” Noah's hands were now on either side of my face, “please Y/N, just breathe!”

His eyes scanned my face with concern as he held onto me tightly. “Count backwards from 100 by threes with me, okay?”

“100, 97, 94, 91, 88…” Noah started and I followed his lead.

“85, 82, 79…” I managed to choke out and Noah loosened his grip on my face. He placed his hands on top of mine instead.

I wanted to run away in fear but at the same time, I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to breathe again.

Noah continued counting with me, showing me a steady breathing pattern and I followed suit. “58, 55, 52, 49…”

We finally reached zero and my breathing remained in sync with his. I pulled my hands away from him abruptly and hugged myself tightly as I scooted away from him, as if he were the most disgusting thing in the world.

“I don't know whether to tell you to get lost,” I said, glaring at him, “or thank you.”

Noah looked at me with concern before running his gloved hand over his face. Realizing he still had them on, he groaned in frustration and angrily ripped them off, revealing his tattooed hands.

I couldn't help but follow the outlines of the flower with my eyes once again.

“I know you probably won't believe me but I swear I didn't know this was your house,” he began, holding his hands up in surrender, his pleading eyes met mine.

He seemed so genuine and sincere that part of me wanted to believe him, but screw that.

“You’re right, I don’t,” I snapped back, “But why were you even in someone else’s house?” I wiped my mouth, realizing the smudged lipstick from earlier. I must've looked like a total mess.

Noah watched me intently, his gaze studying my lips.

“I- I swear if I could explain, I would,” he rambled again, avoiding eye contact and looking at the carpeted floor, “but-”

Three loud knocks at the door interrupted his sentence, and Noah's eyes widened as he stared at me, the colour draining from his face.

“This is LAPD!” A booming voice called out from the other side of the door. The doorknob jiggled, trying to open.

“Shit,” Noah muttered, frantically scanning the hallway for something. He stood up and looked around before turning to me, a realization dawning on him. Without hesitation, Noah ripped off his sweater and black tank top, leaving him shirtless in front of me.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whispered-yelled, furrowing my brows at him in distaste.

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, kneeling in front of me again with an expression filled with fear and distress.

“Excuse me?” I now yelled a bit too loudly as the door below us rattled once more.

“LAPD! Open up!”

“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah's intense gaze locked onto mine as he begged, “Just this once Y/N.”

I hesitated for a moment but ultimately gave in to Noah's desperate request. His hands gripped the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me towards him. With complete desperation, Noah kissed me intensely.

Chapter three

Tags:@crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @Anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

[practicedvmm13fullofpotatoes]

Things in The Neighbor's Under the Bed that drive me insane

(WARNING: IT'S A REALLY LONG POST FOR SOME REASON. CONTINUE IF YOU DARE)

Mark said "They beat us 7-nil", implying that Abigail was also a Raccoon. So. Both of them are retired Raccoon City players but Mark cares about football and getting back at Johnny and Janae's father. Abigail loves the guy enough to let him do his plans, occasionally helping him (like with the tunnel thing) but she doesn't obsess over football like he does

"A nipple a day keeps the Rangers at bay!" "That's what we've got on our house crest" I know all of these things are supposed to be for comedic purposes but that implies that Abigail's been doing the nipple thing since the Raccoons lost to the Rangers (hell, she could have also been doing it before they lost to the Rangers but I don't think she'd have the need to do that unless conspiring with Mark to get back at the Rangers)

THE ADDAMS JUST HAVE A BLUEPRINT OF THE EVANS' HOUSE. WHAT??

"We love you too, Dad!" Janae, that is your mother--

"Don't hit your brother anymore, that's not very nice okay?" "I try to but the night terrors" This is Janae responding. I can't tell if this is because Janae has nightmares and is hitting Johnny in their sleep or if Janae hits Johnny to wake him up from a really nasty future dream

Johnny coming out of nowhere while Martha was already telling the boys goodnight and her not knowing that he wasn't in the room shows how neglectful of a mother she is. Sure, she comforts him but also tells him to "shut up" and to "stop being weird".

"Yes, Johnny, that's the one" WHY DID JANAE HAVE TO CONFIRM THAT THEIR MOTHER WAS RIGHT WITH WHAT THEIR OLDER BROTHER'S NAME IS??

"I did say that he was my older brother. But he's emotionally less mature" This is definitely to clarify to the audience but I'm taking this as Janae knowing that their mother can't differentiate them sometimes.

"What do you mean you had another one of your future dreams?" SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S TALKING ABOUT. AND THIS IS A REGULAR OCCURRENCE, MIND YOU. SHE DOESN'T LISTEN TO HIM WHEN HE'S TALKING ABOUT HIS FUTURE DREAMS!! HE LITERALLY HAD TO EXPLAIN WHAT HIS FUTURE DREAMS WERE

"I'll try but I do have to finish the Oxford curriculum" Implies they're in school and then Tom throws the next line "Because, you know I'm lecturing in the morning" which throws my previous idea out the window. JANAE LECTURES AT OXFORD?? JANAE FUCKING GRADUATED AND TEACHES AT OXFORD??

"I dreamed a man came out from under my bed :(" I mean, sure, it's technically correct but not exactly correct?? Which implies that Johnny either has 80% accurate future dreams or his dreams come from another perspective sometimes??

"But sometimes they come true, mommy!" SOMETIMES?? SO THEY DON'T ALWAYS COME TRUE?? I MEAN. OKAY

"It's okay, I'm familiar with the carnal act" what has this eight-year-old seen....

"My seis-- my seismogram" Tom was blanking on what it was called but yes, a seismogram exists (I saw it on my exam. But now I'm starting to think that an 8 year old just recently invented it)

"It's not true" IMMEDIATELY TOLD HER CHILD THAT IT ISN'T REAL. DOES SHE CARE ABOUT HER CHILDREN? PROBABLY NOT

"If it was true, it would be called a seismoGRAPH" BOTH OF THEM SHUT JANAE DOWN. WHAT?? GUYS. HEAR 'EM OUT. COME ON

"I said I made it myself, it's something new, father!" NEITHER OF JANAE'S PARENTS WOULD LISTEN TO THEM. ALSO, THE EMPHASIS ON "FATHER" IMPLIES JANAE DOESN'T LIKE THEIR FATHER MUCH

"I know where he gets his power. I have to sleep with his wife" THIS IS LIKE THE MEME. ["I'VE CONNECTED THE TWO DOTS" "YOU DIDN'T CONNECT SHIT" "I'VE CONNECTED THEM"] NO BUT WHERE THE FUCK DID HE GET THIS IDEA I'M SOBBING SO HARD

"ENGORGE HIM AND HAVE HIM ENTE-- no wait-- ENGORGE HER AND HAVE YOURSELF ENTER HER" TOM WAS READY TO MAKE THIS GAY. I LOVE THAT

"It'll just be me and the boys--" "No, me and the boys" THEIR FATHER IS TOO FIXATED WITH FOOTBALL THAT HE DOESN'T EVEN CONSIDER HIS CHILDREN

"Tasting menu" "Expensive.." THIS ISN'T REALLY RELATED TO THE LORE I'M TRYING TO MAKE FOR NEIGHBOUR'S BUT THIS IS HILARIOUS

The nod to Luke before patting the chair. Again, not related to lore but I love this moment

AJ going to drink in the background until Luke spoke. Took a moment to pause because that was definitely not what Johnny sounded like previously (not related. again)

"We had a different daddy. Our daddy was not our daddy it was the neighbaah :(" Okay so going back to Johnny's future dreams, they aren't 100% accurate to what actually happens but rather a caricature of it?? Dreams don't always make sense in real life, so Johnny's future dreams being a bit exaggerated makes sense kind of??

"WHY ARE THEY DOING IT IN THE RECORDING STUDIO WITH ALL THE MICS ON?!" THEY HAVE A WHAT IN THEIR HOUSE? THEY HAVE A RECORDING STUDIO???

"I was going to suggest a fire but okay!" JANAE IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT THAT A FIRE WAS THE BEST WAY TO SOLVE THIS. THEY MAY BE BOOK SMART BUT THEY'RE A LITTLE BIT FUCKED UP IN THE HEAD. JOHNNY, THE ONE WHO GOES MORE ON EMOTION RATHER THAN GENUINELY THINKING, WAS THE ONE WHO HAD A RATIONAL IDEA. CALLING THEIR DAD WAS DEFINITELY THE BETTER IDEA. AND THEN HE JUST AGREES WHEN JANAE SUGGESTED A FIRE. YEAH, NO, NEVERMIND THEY'RE BOTH A BIT FUCKED UP (then again, younger children have wild imaginations. Janae might be intelligent but that doesn't mean they're not a kid. Hell, their boosted iq may or may not have aided with the fucked up ideas they might have)

Janae just being a news anchor/football announcer in a normal speed while Jack and Mark are in slow mo. Why is that? To make it a bit more dramatic? Because it's a slow mo playback? Huh??

"I'll be seeking forced adoption for myself and my older brother" GOOD BECAUSE BOTH OF THEIR PARENTS ARE NEGLECTFUL. THEY DESERVE TO LIVE IN A BETTER HOME, GODDAMN IT

Tl;dr: This play is insane and these two kids need a family that actually care about their interests and don't shut them down/force them to play football

[diodellet]

no, i'd rather pretend (jamil viper x gn!reader)

summary: It was so easy to pretend that you weren't also drowning. content warnings: -reader is an unreliable narrator -reader is yuu -self-deprecating, mean inner thoughts (80% ventfic, 20% comfort) ++unbeta'd all mistakes are mine. word count: 1.4k words

It was one of those days. Where everything felt too much.

Sure you could cope with it, carry on as if nothing was bothering you. Let all the little inconveniences wash off of you. After all, you couldn’t overblot. You were the Ramshackle Prefect, damn it. A long time ago, you were given the title of beast tamer and that made you believe that nothing could even come close to bothering you.

Sometimes though, it meant needing a few moments—maybe minutes to cry—alone to gather yourself.

Which, you couldn’t really get in NRC.

“I wish you would lean on us though.” Jamil’s voice, albeit low enough to give the sense of discretion, sounds far away. But you know that he’s crouched by you. 

“No… I can’t do that, I’m already dead weight to you all.” Your arms pull tighter around your knees, trying to compress your frame into something smaller than it actually was.

Most of all, you had no excuse to be throwing around words and thoughts you’d kept hidden like knives to pierce your opponents. Things that you thought once hidden, would remain hidden and eventually be pushed out of your memory.

It doesn’t work like that however. Unpleasant things liked to bubble to the surface, especially during one’s most vulnerable moments.

“Can you please leave… I’m already troubling you all by being like this…” Please let me fix myself. I can’t put myself back together like this.

You curl up further into yourself, pressing your face into your knees, bone against your eyesockets in a vain attempt to stifle the outcry of your pain.

All it does is make a pitiful sob heave from you once before cutting off abruptly. You feel a brush of fingertips against the back of your hand, damp from the futility of stopping your emotional fit. And with a gentle tug, your hand comes away—away from shrinking into yourself, away from reflexively hiding the worst of yourself—only to feel his fingers lace together with yours, not one bit bothered by the traces of your tears.

“You once mentioned that this comforted you.” And in the touch of his skin to yours, your first instinct is to yank yourself away.

You did bring it up once offhandedly, when you were sentimental about things you used to be able to do back home, when you were still a stone’s throw away from your friends and family. But his discomfort was understandable, as much as he spent time at the side of someone who wore their heart on their sleeve, not everyone who brandished their emotions did so in the same way. For a moment, his hold tightens, almost afraid that if he let go, then it would mean losing you to whatever it was that was eating you from the inside.

“You also told me once that burdens were meant to be shared.”

Hearing that come back to you—a thing you said in the heat of the moment, somewhere in the aftermath of his overblot—sends a new wave of tears spilling from you.

With those words, a dam breaks and you’re unable to clamp down on any more of your cries.

“But you already have enough on your plate…” you choke out between broken sobs.

Compared to everything he had gone through, your troubles were insignificant. Shallow, even. A meaner part of your mind cuts into you. If you could somehow muster the ability to throw words to ward off someone, then you weren’t actually helpless. You were using your pain to pretend, so you could catch them off guard. So you could eventually drive them away. That was why you were letting him see you like this, right? So he’d see you at your ugly and rotten core, so he’d know to turn around and leave you behind, right?

“Not right now, I don’t have much weighing me down. See?” And his grip shifts to hold your hand more firmly.

“...Are you sure you’re not just saying that? Just to make me stop?” It was fine if he was, as much as you were given comfort in the past, a part of you was dimly aware that the gentleness you were given as a kid was a disguised plea to stop being so immature. That fact of life carried you throughout your years. That everyone has it worse than you, that your problems aren’t all that bad in the first place, you just had to vocalize what was wrong because deep down, you already knew what needed fixing.

And that was the problem right now, wasn’t it? That instead of the big picture explanation you readily had, all you had were sharpened barbs of emotion to pierce yourself and others with.

“I’m not just saying that,” he counters. As measured as his words are, you can feel a faint tremble in his hand as it holds yours. “I… used to think you were. Just saying things, I mean.”

“I probably was.” You were bad with silence after all. Silence was difficult, because it wasn’t actually a total loss of sound, it was having every minute sensation amplified to a deafening degree, being able to hear what was unspoken.

“You weren’t wrong though.” Jamil says, “it took me a while to realize that.”

Does he mean witnessing the other overblots too? The ugly aftermaths of each one that he was privy to? You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during each one or the exact people who were there with you, only bits and pieces of those moments were locked away in a place much deeper than what your memory could hold.

Maybe the only way you could remember was from the bits that spilled out. The bits that mixed together with your ugly insides.

“But… you don’t have to be here.”

“I know, but you don’t have to deal with this on your own either.”

“...Did I also tell you that shit?”

“...Maybe.”

“God, tell me to shut up next time.” At your groan, you hear an amused laugh from him. Like he’s glad that the roles were reversed in his favor. 

There wouldn’t be enough words to describe how much you hated being this vulnerable. Yet not even a fraction of those words could even begin to encapsulate how secure you felt at the same time. All you can do is feel the calmness slowly take over your insides.

“I tried. But you wouldn’t stop.” You can still hear the bitter smile in Jamil’s voice, a pinprick of his true feelings in spite of what was meant to be a playful jab.

“...I’m sorry.”

“No—I’m glad you didn’t.”

And it’s those words that stop your train of thought in its tracks. And you tentatively lift your head to peer at him.

He meets your gaze, and there’s a note of something unbelievably tender, that you wish you looked up before this moment. Jamil Viper was good at hiding his emotions, good at dressing up his words with honey and sincerity.

“Hey,” he says. Like he wasn’t just sitting with you and holding your hand through the worst of your emotions.

“Why…” your voice cracks, “why would you tell me all of this?” Or rather, what you mean to say was, why stay with you when you weren't feeling like yourself?

You supposed that it was so easy to talk, to let observations and promises flow from you without abandon. It was easy being the unbothered party, deflecting any and all cause of concern. It was so easy to pretend that you weren’t also drowning.

“I wouldn’t have said all of that if I didn’t mean it.”

“But…”

And there, you see a falter in his expression, a slight frown forming on his lips. “Don’t make me say it all again.” His gaze momentarily breaks from yours as his free hand comes up to adjust the hood of his dorm uniform.

Ironically, it’s what dispels the last of your doubt.

“Not even one more time?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m leaving.” Yet even as Jamil says that, he still hasn’t let go of you.

“...Can you stay for a little bit longer?” And was it okay for you to open up a little bit more? Was he okay with hearing from you? Hearing about these useless worries and feelings that swallowed you up?

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And with the warmth surrounding your hand, a lifeline in your sea of emotions, maybe you could believe that.

a.n. i'll fix this after i've had a moment to sleep. i wrote this on a whim while i was going through shit (i still kind of am... but i'm doing better). omake

[astoldbyaja]

Bark like you want it! -Ch. 6~AU Demon Slayer~

Pullin' out the coupe at the lot

Told 'em fuck 12, fuck SWAT

Bustin' all the bells out the box

I just hit a lick with the box

Had to put the stick in a box, mmh

Pour up the whole damn seal, I'ma get lazy

I got the mojo deals, we been trappin' like the '80s

She sucked a n*gga soul, gotta Cash App

Told 'em wipe a n*gga nose, say slatt, slatt

I won't never sell my soul, and I can back that

And I really wanna know, where you at, at?

I ground my hips with the beat of the music, flipping my hair and rotating my hips in a circular motion that made me smile as the music continued playing. I let my hands roam my body in happiness as I was engulfed in the ocean of people just wanting to forget their problems. I was one of them! I didn’t want to think about Akaza or Kyojuro or their lust of my body. No tonight it was all about me. A group of women came over, complimented my beauty and asked if they and their boyfriends could dance with me. It was a total of six.

I’ve seen then on campus before, so I was a bit familiar with who they were. I nodded and the men kept it respectful, only sensually touching their girlfriends who occasionally ground their hips and bodies on me of which I didn’t mind. Suddenly the music transitioned into 40 Cal by Hairatage and I was ready to really cut lose to the beat of the music!

I got some haters talking, they've been getting rookie nails They want to go to war, I chew 'em up just like my fingernails I roll with shadows, fuck the jail I can't afford the bail, but if I do they know I get it poppin' like the 40 Cal!

I curled my arms over my face, my braids over my face and popped my chest out immediately shaking my ass with the sharp rift of the music. Everyone was going crazy at the sharp music. The club was truly brought to life, the heat rising from everyone’s fast body movements and the smell now a mixture of different sweat. I wanted to drink tonight, I wanted to fuck tonight! I wanted to do whatever the fuck I wanted! As more relaxed dance music began to play, I began to move from the dance floor, letting my body droop against the bar. Since I needed to have my wits about me, I decided a water was the best I was going to get tonight. My heart was fluttering from utter happiness, the adrenaline overtaking me. My body was begging for more fun, the crowd felt as if it were calling me back into it.

I just needed to catch my breath. I pulled my phone from my dress’ pocket, happy it had a zip up fold so I would never lose it. I checked my messages.

Mitsuri: How are you doing?

Me: All good, shouldn’t be out too long. Hope your date is going well!

Mitsuri: Aw good I’m glad and yes it’s going well. Text me when you’re on your way home!

Me: Will do!

Kyojuro: Hey hope your night is going well. I heard you were going out to the club tonight. If things get weird with anyone there, don’t hesitate to reach out.

Me: Thanks, I’m good. Have a good weekend.

I did not need to ask him about his day, his evening or anything! His intentions were not pure, and I would refuse to think he could actually convince me otherwise.

Akaza: WYA

Me: The Unholy

Akaza: *Typing…* With who??

Me: Me, myself and I.

Akaza: Why didn’t you tell me you were going dancing! I would have loved to go dancing with you.”

I stiffened.

Me: That sounds like a date and I don’t do dates.

Akaza: So you’d rather go straight to the really sweaty work out then?

Me: I’m going back on the dance floor.

Akaza: I’m on my way over there.

Me: Fine then I’m leaving.

Akaza: Don’t be like that. Come on I can throw down! Besides nothing would make us both happier than to feel that ass grinding up on my-”

I tucked my phone back in my dress and looked at the bartender who was on the other side of the bar. He was a tall man with a handsome face and long flowing black hair.

“Hi, I’d like to pay for the water!” I replied waving to him. The man turned and smirked at me.

“On the house since you made my night with that hot dancing of yours!” he called out before winking at me. I smiled and dipped my head some in embarrassment.

“Thank you!” I called out. However, a flash of long black hair and a big grin is all I could make out before me.

“Hey cutie, how ‘bout I buy you the next round!” a boisterous voice said. Standing before me was a tall man in a black fishnet tank and green baggy jeans was leaning over the bar, cheek planted in his palm. I blinked rapidly.

“You wish to buy me another round of water?” I asked. He snickered.

“Of course! Gotta stay hydrated if you plan to dance again!” he said. “The name’s Karaku! I see you a lot on campus, so that makes us classmates in a way. What’s your name?”

Our campus was pretty big how exactly did he see me?

“Yara!” I said over the heavy music which only made the man lean in a bit so he could hear

“Yara? Wow that’s a pretty name! Never heard it before! So that’s makes you my first!” he said. I gave a polite smile however I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, and I really wanted to dance to a few more songs before it was time to call a cab. “Say you have some really pretty hair, Yara, it makes you look like a goddess! Black women have the most exotic hair styles!”

And now he’s lost my attention and my tense face at his compliment told me so. I didn’t like the word exotic being used to describe me or anything on me. Made me feel weird.

“Thanks!” I said stiffly before leaning off the bar and trying to wave a goodbye to him, before he caught my hand.

“Say, I’m here tonight with three of my brothers! We’ve been studying hard cramming for the upcoming midterms you know how it is, and we were wondering if maybe you’d like to dance with us!” he offered before point pointing over my shoulder toward the very end of the bar where three men, identical to Karaku, were looking at me with different emotions on their faces. One looked to be glaring slightly, nodding his head up at me as if saying ‘sup with his eyes. He wore a red tank and black jeans. I could see the two sleeve tattoos that covered his muscular arms.

Waving happily beside him was a man in a black tank top under a yellow jacket and brown shorts. His wrists were wrapped with yellow bands and yellow beaded necklace sat loose on his neck. Beside him was a nervous, almost sad looking man in a blue and white striped uniform and he looked almost nervous.

Woah, I had never seen a set of quadruplets before, and I couldn’t help but look from then back to Karaku who just smirked.

“Wow, and all four of you want to dance with me, why?” I asked. There were many cute and attractive women in the club tonight and it made me suspicious that a group of men wanted to just dance with me when there were so many other options.

“Absolutely. The way you moved on the dancefloor was just stunning. My brothers and I couldn’t take our eyes off you! You seem like a lot of fun, Yara! So how’s about it, one more dance before the night ends?” he asked.

Suddenly, a beat popped in my ears from above and my eyes widened as well as my smile as the remix version of Enya’s Only Time, Crunk in Time, was playing. I couldn’t wait anymore I had to pop off tonight. I smirked at Karaku.

“If you and your brothers can keep up tonight, then sure, one dance.” I replied before pushing off the bar, taking his hand and guiding him to the dance floor, my hips dipping and swaying from side to side with the beat of the music. I noticed the three brothers moving off the bar and following us to the dance floor and slowly approached me with pleased looks on their faces as they each stood in a perfect square around me.

“I’m Sekido!” the brother in red said harshly making me jump a bit, but I smiled nonetheless from genuine amusement. He stood in front of me.

“I’m Urogi the fun one!” the brother in yellow said as he stood on the left of me.

“Ha as if!” Karaku shouted from behind me, his hand already palming my bottom which I didn’t mind.

“And I’m Aizetsu!” the brother in blue said on my right. He looked nervous almost.

“I’m Yara!” I said with a smile noticing how all four of these men smelled really good. I liked that. The men were moving their hips with the beat of the music as was I.

I began to move my hips in a circular motion so a part of me would graze each of the men’s body giving them each an inch of attention. I began to silently lip sync Enya’s part smiling at all of the men’s amused faces. The looks didn’t look malicious. Everyone around us was swaying themselves waiting for the real fun to start.

“Who can say where the road goes, where the day flows only time. Who can say where the road goes, where the day flows only time (SHAKE THAT-)

My mind was gone, captured by the beat of the music as everyone threw their hands up and shook their bodies giving their all to the music.

“GET CRUNK WITH IT, GET LOOSE WITH IT!” everyone sang shaking their hips and grinding against the partners. Karaku and Sekido kept their hands on hips grinding their hips on me when they could, while I had my hands on Aizetsu’s and Urogi’s cheeks smiling and laughing with them as they moved their bodies against my sides.

“SHAKE THAT ASS REAL FAST THEN DROP! SHAKE IT LIKE A SALTSHAKER! SHAKE IT LIKE A SALTSHAKER! SHAKE IT LIKE A SALTSHAKER!” people sang and shake it I did. I could feel my ass vibrating on command of the music digging into Karaku’s crotch.

“Fuck yes fucking shake it Yara!” the green dressed brother yelled behind. I let my hand move through my braids moving it to one side of my neck as I felt a pair of lips press into my neck from the man behind me. I told my mind to take note of it, but I found it hard from the hands moving over my body and beneath the top of my dress! I gasped realizing it was Sekido’s hand cupping one of my breasts and before I could attempt to push back, which would only get me blocked by Karaku, I feel the angry man’s tongue going down my throat. I realize my wrists are being held down by Urogi and Aizetsu, stopping me from pushing back against the man in front of me.

He's dominating my mouth, not letting my tongue get away from his as he explored every inch of my mouth.

“Sorry, Yara, but we had to see for ourselves what was so special about you!” Urogi said happily. I finally had the courage to bite the tongue that was invading me and Sekido leaned back with a growl.

“Naughty bitch bit me!” he snarled.

“Yes, Akaza was speaking so highly of you, I am sad to admit I was actually getting a little jealous.” Aizetsu told. What the fuck! Akaza… Oh damn these guys must be a part of the Kizuki.

“So, how’s about it Yara, want to play with us for a little bit? I promise you’ll enjoy every… inch of us.” Karaku purred, his tongue sliding up the shell of my ear. I stiffened heavily feeling that the grips on my wrists would not be loosened. Sekido wasn’t even going to wait fo a response because his hand came up to grip my throat as his face leaned in to mine to kiss me again.

But my feet acted fast, kicking him right in the groin.

“FUCK!” he snarled in pain as he was now caught up in the wave of dancing and being shoved into the crowd

I felt the grips on my wrists loosen and I used this time to move into the crowd and let the many shoulders push me about. I was looking for a way out of the crowd, the exit, and the four brother as a means to get away from them. I pushed my way from the crowd and pressed myself to the wall. I quickly grabbed my phone and texted fast.

Me: 911 (You shared your location)

Kyojuro: On my way! Find somewhere to lay low until I get there!

I could see Aizetsu coming from the crowd and hurried down the closest to me. I was looking for an emergency exit if anything, but I was luckily coming up on the front of the club. Where I could hide once out there, I didn’t know. The Unholy wasn’t a big place and it felt they would easily know I was in the lady’s restroom if I tried to hide there, and I didn’t need to get cornered there! Just as I was pushing myself out the door, I was immediately caught by someone I didn’t want to see.

“Yara! Wow your hair looks amazing!” he snapped catching my shoulders. I wanted to pull back, but he wouldn’t let me go.

“Please let me go, Akaza, I need to leave!” I said hurriedly looking over my shoulders. They could come at any minute! Okay, I couldn’t hide my fear through anger any longer. I was scared and I was scared shitless. I tore from Akaza’s hold and began to move down the sidewalk putting distance between me and the club. Akaza was speeding up behind me taking my hand.

“Hey woah what the fuck happened?” he yelled in panic. I needed to get out of here. I didn’t want his hand touching me. He’s one of them, they’re one of them! As I walked, a familiar shade of yellow was skipping in front of me.

“Yara, I found you!” Urogi said happily and I gasped as I saw red, blue and green appearing. I quickly back tracked and jumped behind Akaza.

“You stay the fuck away from me! All of you or I swear to God I’ll scream!” I threatened. Akaza looked at me then the four men who were walking up to him calmly and collectively.

“What the fuck did you do!” he snapped. Sekido just growled with annoyance.

“The cunt bit me and kicked me in my dick!” he snarled.

“Oh, calm down, Akaza, we were just trying to test her, to make sure she was being loyal to you and to the gang is all.” Karaku said with a purr.

“She attracts a lot of male attention whether she knows it or not. It’d be very upsetting if another guy tried to step in on what’s yours.” Aizetsu said with a pout.

“You’re all insane!” I snapped trying to step away from the group, but Akaza took my hand and wouldn’t let go as he held his other hand up.

“Okay can we all just calm the fuck down! Why the hell were you four out anyways when you were supposed to be… running errands?” he snarled. I could tell errands was code for something else. Sekido scoffed angrily.

“We earned. The club was our last errand. We saw your little toy here dancing like she’s single and couldn’t help our curiosity and thought we'd join in a dance!” he explained.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean! It seems like you wanted to do more than just dance!” I snapped still struggling from Akaza. He looked at me angrily noticing me pulling back.

“Will you please stop that!” he yelled before looking at the brothers. “Your business was not with her; you all should have left her alone!”

“Oh come on, you shared your last toy with us, we figured she was a new one to share with us!” Urogi told. My eyes widened.'

"Mother fucker." Akaza said shooting him a glare so dark, it almost caused me to miss the sound of tires screeching around the corner and now we all looked as I saw a black 2022 Toyota Tundra was jumping the curb of the sidewalk making us all jump back. I followed Akaza’s hand to the hem of his jacket and down to the back of his pants and the way he gripped the handle of his gun made my eyes pop as he pulled it from his waist band.

Gun! GUN! GUN! DANGER, DANGER, DANGER!

Popping out of the bed of the truck was Kyojuro and Sanemi, with pistols in their hands, all the while, Uzui’s window was down in the driver’s side, a very large gun in his hand that looked like it fired multiple rounds. Obanai’s body was sitting outside on the passenger window with two Glock pistols in his hands.

I looked at the four brothers to see guns in their hands pointed at the truck, and I felt my mind was ready to explode.

I noticed Kyojuro and Akaza’s guns were on each other, and I could tell they were waiting to take each other out, however I was in the line of fire.

I just wanted to dance and maybe fuck tonight. I wanted to have a wild and fun night and then go home and sleep the weekend away. Why was that so fucking hard!

[bisexualmcqueen]

Ok listen, I know you literally just posted about McQueen's parents, but I am already so obsessed with them and would love to know more about them!! 💙

ok so this has been sitting in my askbox since JULY (CRAZY??) and ive been thinking about it ever since. thank you for bearing with me<3 quite frankly i needed to reacquaint myself a bit longer with cars/my cars ocs after a 4 year long break!! lightning is about 43 now in 2024, which means i have 4 decades of his story to mentally keep track of (simply the flavor of autism i have). i bounce all over like a laserbeam in a hall of mirrors.

alright. oliver and donna time. blanket warning for varied implied child abuse/neglect. [background info this ask is referencing!!] ***

the very basic core of these characters is looking at lightning mcqueen and wondering how the hell he wound up all fucked up the way he did. hes got all the issues (he thinks hes sooo normal but there are so many things going on that arent right). so i invented a couple of fucked up guys to fuck him up (mildly to moderate) in his formative years.

oliver is the main culprit here. oliver mcqueen. yes- one of the core aspects of this character is "Two Of Them". what if there was Another mcqueen. imagine a second mcqueen man (dear god). he had a dad somewhere along the line. and what a guy, oh i'm sadly a bit obsessed with oliver. hes like if lightning mcqueen was Worse. hes a boomer from the boston metro area and he thinks he's cool as shit like bernie madoff doing investing fraud, trying to get rich. he thinks hes the wolf of wall street of texas. his head is completely up his own ass and hes a mean little idiot worm. hes supposed to be raising monty but all hes taught him is 'every man for himself' and how to close the door quietly. that and other things.

they live in the dallas metro area together from about 1988-1999. oli does not want to raise this kid, so he sort of just throws food and tires at him occasionally. monty spends a lot of time outside, raising hell (where'd you learn to fly like that, city boy?). typical racecar behaviors. (his teachers find him impossible to deal with often as well).

not to say that oliver is some irredeemable evil freak- hes funny, hes charming, hes a bit of a badass, hes sort of a hot pathetic mess in a funny way. he does pass on some decent traits to his son, gives him good advice occasionally. he's crazy, but he works in an office, so most of his schemes are social and criminal. i recently made an AU where he's a racer, so hoping to post more about that as i develop. (a successful oliver is much more frightening than one distracted by failure!)

this has oliver and monty vibes, oddly enough:

don't be fooled- oliver could never hold a candle to the heart of logan wolverine. oliver is a republican and he hates women (he loves women /derogatory). oliver sucks enough that lightning straightup considers doc to be his actual dad. next! ***

ah, donna. origin of abandonment issues, ring ring!

she's less developed than oliver because she exits stage left pretty early on in the story, but we still love her (or hate her, up to interpretation!) i actually recently gave her a full name even: Donna Ann SteelDust. yep, steeldust as in the mythical foundational sire of the American Quarter Horse breed. partly because texas, partly because i love horses, and partly because in the 1950's there lived a pair of quarter horses who were father and son named Doc and Lightning. and they were racing quarter horses to boot! oh, and partly because the mother of lightning mcqueen deservedly needs a badass name.

donna has monty at about age 20, with a godless charmer from faraway boston, out of wedlock, in a small community somewhere towards western texas in the early 80's. oliver is fresh out of uni and a couple years older. donna is a waitress at the local eatery. girl, your taste in men is abysmal. you can NOT fix him. traveler meet-cute gone wrong...

hes miserable enough of a partner that he is ultimately what drives donna to leave. gone in the wind one day when monty is about six. she met someone new. someone who she thinks is kinder.

she puts the tv to RSN every sunday. she likes watching races- radio when theres no tv. when monty becomes obsessed, she gets him a little strip weathers figurine when shes out of town one day that he manages to hold onto til his teen years. they sit in front of the tv and watch together, and have popcorn made on the stovetop. when lightning recalls his mother, this is the first place his mind goes.

she didnt want a kid (as in unplanned). she didnt consciously try to be a good parent (neither did oliver). but she was sweet. well, sometimes, when she wasnt being a hot mess and stirring up drama.

originally, i was going to have her die before lightning became famous. oliver was going to also be dead by now (2024). but ive got some new ideas- oliver is in prison, donna is in denial about her famous son and festering with guilt. she does not reach out to him. (latter idea from Non).

to boil them down further: donna believes in love, oliver believes in money. they go about it the wrong way. they make mistakes. (part of lightning's obsession with money is in unconscious spite of his father- he wants to prove a point, that he was doing it all wrong, he can do better, he can Win ['i'll show him!']. consciously, lightning's money worries are about his own longevity. there is no lightning mcqueen parts factory: hes some sort of rare 1 of 1 anomaly. unconsciously again: death [mortality, time lost, being forgotten] frightens him. out loud, he says wrecking does. he does not connect any of these dots fully.)

a looottt of this is in flux, these characters still need significant development. but its a story about loneliness, about escaping the cycle, about finding your wings. this is not lightning's family, this isnt where he lands. he doesnt have christmas at ma's. you cant go home again- there's no one there for you and there never was. cps doesnt save you. you find yourself.

mostly this all comes from my fascination with lightning's mysterious origin. and frustration with it. what do you mean the only in-film lore we get is "i've been dreaming about it my whole life!" and "glen elen- my first win!". all his convoluted emotional shielding (for a minute there). he jumps at loud sounds and thinks someone is shooting at him. his natural jackass behavior even after he is 'reformed.' his clearly ignored mental health concerns. he drives me insane forreal. lightning mcqueen i will dissect you and put your parts spread out on a clean workbench you bitch. i will label and graph you in 4D space. im putting you in the bee centrifuge.

gonna cap this off with a recent sketch of donna. turns out corvettes are IMPOSSIBLE to draw, send help. more info about this timeperiod/my ocs are filed under the "origin fic era" and "my ocs" tags on this blog (mostly barren at this time though. will add more.). excited to refine these characters even more as time goes on!

thank you again for the ask!

[abloomingperiod]

him | kim namjoon

"hey, you listening?" you ask as you make your way out of the bathroom and into the room your fiancé was situated.

"yes" he simply answers, voice calm and eyes and hands leaving his book to look at you.

when your eyes find his, you stop - on your tracks and your train of thought - to drink on the sight.

there he was, the reason you’re even planning and thinking about what is supposed to be the biggest and best day of your life for the last three months, since he dropped on one knee to ask for your hand - and later, to give you a glimpse of why you’ll need more than a week for your honeymoon.

there he was, hair growing over his neck - less than a mullet, just like you asked him to grow it into -, bare and pretty face, big and buff limbs glowing as the warm, small light from your lampshade illuminated them. sharp eyes, yet so calm and serene gaze expecting your next words.

speaking of them,

where exactly did they go?

“honey?” his deep voice asks with a small side grin, which you want to slap him for. does he thinks he’s helping you and your reasoning, when all you can think about is how remarkably low it is?

him, him, him. everything about him. all about him. him.

“right” you come back to earth, hands on your hips, “so... about our wedding”, you start, but can’t help and feel funny under his gaze, shrugging it off with an old, stupid joke of yours, “let’s end it off- nah i’m joking, but for real-”

as dumb as it is, it never fails to rip a small chuckle out of your sweet soon-to-be husband, and you swear to god it’s the prettiest sound in the world.

if it was possible to fall in love twice with the same person without even falling out of the first time, you’re sure his laughter would be responsible for it.

and once again, you’re standing there like an idiot, watching the other idiot that knows exactly what he’s doing when his lower lip gets pulled back by his teeth, and you feel like a teenager for the tenth time in the last 3 minutes. “...you okay, babe?”

just let your thoughts win and grab him, for god’s sake.

“i can’t keep my hands off of you” you confess, arms giving up, sighing and faking a frustrated face that could never be convincing. not when your legs are already folding and making their way onto his lap, slowly crawling with your knees to the only place you never get sick of in the world.

him, him, him. his skin, his warmth, his embrace.

everything about him. all about him.

“now why would i ever want you to do that?” he asks smoothly, hands immediately finding your waist and burning up your skin. his eyes held such a welcoming stare, you wish you could just say ‘i do’ right now and have him all for yourself ‘til your last day on earth.

“no but i do have something to say” you remember yourself and him, hands finding his waist and caressing around it - waist, tummy, chest, bones, everything you could find and paint with your own touch. “i was thinking, and maybe, we should throw a little something before the actual wedding, you know? like a pre-wedding thing”

he observes you, head slightly hanging to the side as his curiosity get to him.

“not that i don’t think it’s enough or anything!” you assure him, fingers going through his small silver chain that held your proposal ring in. “you’re gonna like this, hear me out: we probably want to drink our asses off. that’s just how we roll, right? but i know myself, and i know my limits... i’ll be straight up with you: i don’t think my insides can take cake, korean food and alcohol the way i wish it would.”

and there it is, one more laughing sound of his, but this time, a louder, bigger one.

the dumbass is laughing at your costs, now.

“you really can’t function outside of the ‘8 or 80′ style, can you?” his right hand flicks your forehead lightly “dumbass.”

“pardon? i didn’t ask for a funny tummy and i certainly don’t want it messed up at my own wedding. that’s a huge ass reason to throw a small something a few days before!” you interject, quickly pinching his sides, earning a cute squirm from him. “plus, i don’t wanna be bloated when i’m wearing my wedding dress.”

with that, he just stares at you for a second, and lets out a fair question as his eyes narrow at your intentions, “you’re not plotting this just because of that, are you?”

another thing you could easily hold accountable for a second fall for him: his caring.

handling and watching you more intently than yourself, sometimes.

god, it’s almost embarrassing how much you love this in him.

“no. and you know that. i really do have a suck ass stomach, you’ve seen how bad it gets” you say, easing his sudden seriousness, and with that you smile at him “plus, i want other korean stuff turning my insides out...”

he interrupts you with most delicious laugh you’ve heard in a long time - since the last time he laughed this hard (last than a day before). “ “god, you’re gross! okay, i see your point.”

“i knew you would. now, this can be very s-small,” you get into the details of your plan and his hands betray his incredulous gaze, as they travel down to the small of your back and rest on your ass, softly caressing it an earning a small tremble in your voice. “less than 20 people, your closest friends, my closes friends, a bar with at least 5 of the 10 drink options we’re having in the menu... we can bring the same flavor of cake...” your eyes keep scanning his beautiful face and the loving eyes he gives you, admiring the thought you put behind your little plan. “we can even wear a tie and a small veil! so everybody knows about it! who knows? maybe we even get a free drink. gotta milk our options out, baby.”

at that, you expect him to give you one more nice chuckle, or even a light slap on the butt, but he decides not to. instead his hands press you against his own lower body, and his plump lips attach themselves to the side of your neck. you let out a small sigh followed by a light chuckle “i’m serious!”

“i know you are” he defends himself, lips travelling north to your jaw and cheek, leaving hard pecks, making you smile like you’re high “you’re irresistible, that’s all”

you know for a fact he felt your pulse stumbling, fumbling and failing as his lips kept kissing you.

“enough for you to say yes?” you take advantage of his sweet words.

“i’m marrying you, isn’t that enough of an answer?” he asks, facing you with the most whipped out smile you’ve ever seen. “sure. anything for you.” you smile wildly at him, heart throbbing and lips mumbling a small ‘thanks’ as you peck his lips. “i can search for that bar, too.”

god, why is he so freaking him?

of course he can.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” he responds, smile never leaving his mouth, cheekily giving you his trademark wink along with it.

“you..... ugh!” your hands tangle ins his hair and your lips attack his just like you did when he proposed to you. your kiss is urgent, desperate even, and still, he manages to laugh against it. he pulls you flush against him, chest to chest and heart to heart, hands dancing around your ass.

you could never get sick of this place.

“fucking love you. can’t wait to put this ring on your finger” you pull back and confess, lips ghosting his as you watch your hands travel back to his chain.

“you and i both” he agrees, eyes and hand mirroring yours, gasping a bit. “can’t wait to see you in that dress” fingers caressing your whole torso: spectrum, under-boob, ribcage, waist, “and take it off.”

oh, are you longing for that honeymoon.

“and you will” you peck him again, “‘cause now i don’t need to care about my tummy”

his laughs fills your room and your eardrums with the most beautiful sound you can point out. his head fall back to the wall behind and his eyes close, and you wish you could have this sight and this sight only for the rest of your life.

“yes, your tummy is well taken care of”

“and that’s for you, too. i need my newly husband a hundred percent conscious and collected for the after party”

he lightly tsks at you "if i were you, i’d wish the opposite” he slowly grabs your ass and kisses the back of your ear. god, he feels like a delicious poison. “plus, i don’t think i can stay collected after watching you down that aisle.”

“you and i both” you repeat his words, head resting on his shoulder. “thank you, i owe you one.” and leaving a small kiss on his jaw.

“show me the dress?”

“never.”

“but i’ll search for the bar.”

“you did that on yourself.”

he jokingly scoffs and mumbles a small ‘fine’, and you fall in love with him all over again.

“but i’ll give you a hint. it’s white.”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

and he looks down at you, small smirk painting his face.

“yeah? wanna pay it back now?” he asks mischievously, as his finger trace your lower lip.

“i just might” you respond, kissing his thumb. his eyes hold a darker tone, and as your bodies almost mold into one with the proximity you’re in, you can feel just how much he might want it.

“...still wanted to see that dress, though.” he jokes, and you return to your position facing him, lightly slapping his rigid chest. he catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, softly kissing it, and travelling to the back of your hand.

“that gives bad luck, dumbass.”

as he keeps kissing your knuckles, his other hand ghost over your thigh, enticing you and making you shiver deliciously.

because that’s what he does. namjoon makes you stumble, tremble, flutter, shiver and fall.

him, him, him.

everything about him. all about him.

“you’re all the luck i need.”

him, him, him.

[monkeytrick]

ausuweiueuiwqiu12

Sorry I pretty much only make posts like this rn and thnaks to everyone who reads them this is like. So much. But I’ve been freaking out so much lately bc I’m in a much better albeit temporary living situation than I’ve ever been in but I feel like I’m like. Genuinely way too depressed and scared to actually do anything since getting here. Which like I guess I can sorta defend bc I’m recovering from previous situation but I also kinda just feel like it’s how I’d be behaving regardless ☹️I got hired for a job at least but I’ve spent like every day I’ve been here essentially jsut pacing around and then getting really drunk and/or high to avoid thinking about any of the shit I actually need to do and then going to sleep at like 5 am. And I feel so much worse about it bc everyone here actually has been really kind and helpful about trying to help me get things on track but I feel like I’m just unable to do anything I need to do unless I have someone watching and helping me the entire time and I don’t want to put anyone in that position. I am basically like not speaking to anyone at all rn except for the people I live with and a select few internet friends and I have so much shit piling up on here and from people I knew irl in Wisconsin that I just haven’t answered at all. Ptsd symptoms have been getting worse since I first got kicked out and a little before I left for here I was regularly having days where I’d get like genuinely triggered in the most clinical sense from things I can’t really remove from my life and it would lead to me freaking the fuck out and fear vomiting and beyond that I’ve been so stressed that I just can’t eat anything at all without throwing up a lot of the time. I tried looking up if that particularly could be related to ptsd and I found so many people being like ‘yeah that’s a symptom I get it just never went away ever and I lost 80 pounds’ which scared me so fucking bad — I have some solace bc I don’t think it’ll be like that for me, since I got here it’s been like. Ebbing and flowing and I’ve had some days like that but some days where I’m like insanely fucking ravenous for no reason. Which makes me hope so fucking bad it’ll eventually go away but vomiting or getting nauseous being my response to so many things is making me so upset bc i already have really fucked up teeth and I know it’s damaging them so much more I am incredibly close to reaching the point where my upper teeth are just straight up all going to be actively rotting which I feel so disgusting and ashamed of talking about but I don’t know what I can even do to prevent it at this point unless I just full on get dentures or something. I know they’re like. Very obviously snd visibly fucked and I think people are generally polite about it but I feel like it impacts every interaction I have with people irl and all this happening is making me so much more insane and insecure about it. I had multiple really awful ptsd scary days consecutively like immediately after getting here which like, I kind of was prepared for bc I know it can actually get worse when you’re in a safer place but I didn’t expect it to hit so hard so fast and I’m afraid of it continuing to get worse. I’m literally like. In a better place than I have been since I was a small child basically and a MUCH better place than I was immediately before coming here and I’m trying really hard to remind myself of that but it’s so hard to like register anything at all other than being like fuck I need to die they need to kill me etc. I hope so bad I can take the steps to just like get my life together and hopefully get medicated for shit but it just feels so hard for now to exist and be alive at all I wish they could put me in a tube that would give me nutrients or something man

[nanasketchdump]

Since South Africa is taking Israel to court for genocide there are inevitably many discussions taking place online about the history of apartheid in South Africa vs in Palestine, which unfortunately always includes the 'white South Africans were brainwashed at the time and didn't know Apartheid was happening'. So I'm going to share with you a little story, and please share/reblog or interact with it if you can because I think alot of people need to see this.

So, being a younger white south african myself, I've had my fair share of family get togethers where the apartheid era family members say really ignorant or terrible shit, but one particular night always sticks with me.

My mom and I went out with a large group of family friends and their plus ones ect. And we were talking about funny pranks we have pulled off, and this guy at the table pipes up with this 'funny story' of something him and his friend used to do when they were teenagers back in the 80s, and in between fits of laughter he says:

'My friend and I used to take a train trip though town to get to work, and we would throw oranges out of the train windows when we slowed down at stations. And the black folks, were all so sick and thin that they would swarm around them on the platform floor like flies', some chuckling and struggling to get his words out, 'so anyways, every now and then we'd throw a fire cracker into the group fighting for the oranges just for a laugh, you should have seen how they scattered!'

The table let's out a few laughs, the guy is in hysterics, my mom looks incredibly uncomfortable. And before I can even think I say, 'geez, no wonder the ANC freedom fighters bombed you guys'.

And I had to sit there and watch these old white folks figure out in real time exactly what that story meant and what they had just laughed at.

They knew what was happening, plenty of them were actively involved in doing cruel and horrible things. They just forgot or never really figured out what they were doing was cruel because they just genuinely never thought of non white south africans as human. Which is terrible, to say the least

[iantimony]

twosday

we've got a two-weeker! last week I kept going "ah, I should write my Tuesdaypost", and then it was Saturday. so. ah well.

listening: back on an Astonishing Legends kick! listened to the 2 parters on bloodfalls and The Entity(tm).

Hypoxia - Thomas Giles and the album 'Pulse' that it's on.

the album 'I Will Write Your Song' by Matt Duncan. I should have listened to 'Soft Times' because the songs I have listened to that I like are both on there.

my roommate (listen, I don't live with her any more, but we share pieces of each other's souls so I am going to keep referring to her that way) also got me on these two songs that are major bops. good for Moving and Grooving.

Vois sur ton chemin techno remix by BENNETT

Pedro by Jaxomy

reading: literally so many academic papers. see the misc section.

watching: did a lot of youtube the past two weeks, just gonna post some highlights. a bunch of swell entertainment, not gonna post any one of her vids in specific.

how I reduced my screentime by 80% by reysu: something I've been grappling with is Ough, Too Much Screen, especially considering my day-to-day work is all on the computer too. did implement some of these tips, not sure how much it has helped me considering most of my screentime is on discord and messenger which I don't really want to totally disconnect myself from the same way I have on instagram/fb/etc without too much issue.

the importance of real things by Ted Kutina: I love you physical media

you can't fit your personality in an airport tray by Katie Robinson: some commentary on Style and Personality. not sure if it's just the period of time I grew up in or just something about me inherently or what but I never really had too much issue or thought with the idea of Finding My Style, I just don't buy clothes if they don't spark some joy or serve some purpose.

home organization for chaotic people by Caroline Winkler: found her channel as I overthink exactly where I want to hang up my wall art. she's an interior designer type but I was uncomfortably called out about how she talks about how she used to save every little scrap of anything that someone she loved may have touched out of a sense of guilt. I never really connected that to guilt, but, like, yeah. el oh el. made me think about some of the things I keep around and why.

fall reset guide (that'll actually help get your life together) by morgan Evelyn Cook: really loved the idea of a "morning menu" to replace the idea of a morning routine with.

playing: the biweekly dnd as usual. I have dropped the in-person game I've been playing in for now just because I am stretched too thin. I know this doesn't count but boy have I been thinking about minecraft. need her fr

making: I volunteered to do some drawings for an event my university is hosting in January that I will not be sharing on here because it will make me even more doxxable than normal. this has taken longer than I thought! I am more out of practice painting than I'd assumed so that hurted a bit, and one of the drawings was originally going to be a block print but I rapidly realized that an ink drawing would probably be easier and faster. neither of them are done yet but I have til Friday I think.

anyways I am back in pottery!!! I have made Two ramekins, Two failed ramekins that are teacups now, and a plate! I have never done a plate so that was a cool new thing to do. the real trick was to throw it on a bat and then put the bat in direct sunlight for like an hour before cutting it off.

eating: uhhhhhhh nothing notable really, lots of easy food and trader joes frozens right now because ough. oh wait I tried this bean soup that someone recommended. I forget who. it was. fine. idk it's just beans and garlic so it was just kinda underwhelming. I did get to use my immersion blender tho so that's fun. I have a different bean soup that I will hopefully make and try this week.

misc: dude writing my prelim document is SO SCARY. the introduction specifically is kicking my ass because it's like, "synthesize these papers you've read (and some of which you haven't, oops) into a coherent backstory for why the work you're doing makes sense and is important, for a field you're not technically trained in. also don't make it sound too similar to the thesis of the guy who was working on this project before you. good luck!!"

here is some astronomical happenings in The Corn. see you next week

[quodekash]

PART 2 OF DANGEROUS ROMANCE EP4 COMMENTARY BC I HAVE TOO MANY THOUGHTS AND RAN OUT OF SCREENSHOTS

because of them, im now gonna start sobbing every time someone throws a peace sign at me

HELL YES

IM SO PROUD OF MY BOY

YUOU DID SO GOOD KANG

I KNEW YPU COULD DO IT

AIUOGHKJERPODHFKN

NOOOOOOO

FRICK

my boy is having many thoughts. none of them good.

I can hear his crisis and him blaming himself because now he thinks it's his fault that sailom's gonna get beat up, and he's sad for himself that he doesn't have a reason to spend time with sailom anymore, and now his grandma's gonna be disappointed in him for failing something, and there's definitely some thoughts in the mix there about his dad and the bike he bought him and kang is so certain he doesn't deserve the bike, I could go on but I wont because I would like to finish this episode before the sun rises and currently that doesnt seem all too likely

well DUH

YOU COULD SEE IT FROM MARS (and now im thinking about soundwin. frick.)

tell him

tellllll himmmmmm

tell him he lent the umbrella to youuuuu

and you've treasured it forever perhaps?

OMG HE'S TELLING HIM???

DUDE THEYRE ACTUALLY LISTENING TO ME SO MUCH THIS EPISODE THIS IS SO RARE

chances are either the bus or Kang's car is gonna show up before he'll get it out, bUT ONCE AGAIN, LET ME BASK IN THIS RARE MOMENT OF GLORY AND POWER

BOOM

CALLED IT

I know it's super cliche and everyone probably saw that coming but I dont care, im gonna let myself feel almighty powerful

I just. I will never understand why they dont just like quickly tell the person before leaving. or like yell at him while getting on the bus. OR EVEN text him while on the bus, immediately after getting on. that's what id do, cos if I dont tell them right then and there, I guarantee you I will forget to ever tell them, and then it'll keep me up at night for ages but never at a moment where I actually think about telling them, and then three or four years later ill finally tell them and it'll be so insignificant by then but it doesnt matter because I FINALLY TOLD THEM THE THING

I really hope he remembers to give at least one of those umbrellas back to kang

mans is not waterproof, he needs an umbrella

respect for auto just went down down prices are down

crypto? seriously honey?

IT'S SO CHEESY

IT'S SO CLICHE

AND IM CRYING ABOUT IT BECAUSE SOMEHOW I BOTH IRONICALLY AND UNIRONICALLY LOVE CHEESY AND CLICHE MOMENTS WITH ALL MY FRIKIN SOUL

EW

SPORTS

I hate sports days so much

thankfully id always be allowed to just not go to school instead of being forced to participate in athletics and swimming carnivals and cross country and stuff, and I will be forever grateful to my parents for that

they're in love btw

just in case anyone forgot

I didn't forget

I can't forget about them

my brain wont allow it

IT'S JUST

ITS JUST SO SWEET

I THINK IM GOING INSANE, THEY HATE EACH OTHER AND WANT TO KILL EACH OTHER SO BADLY THAT IT'S LITERALLY ROMANTIC

THIS IS PINING

HE IS PINING

PL E A SE CAN THEY KISS

NAWA'S HEAD TILT????? LIKE THEYRE LITERALLY ABOUT TO KISS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU

two things to say here

one: view, please marry me

two: kang and sailom definitely have the same responsibilities

just KISS

I can't deal with the longing stares anymore

im like 80% certain they wont kiss this episode but I so badly want them to

NOOOO THEYRE NOT IN THE SAME GROUP THINGY

....but (hehe butt)

...maybe

...perhaps

I think kang might pull some strings to end up in the same department as sailom? maybe??

IM DYING, THERE'S A MARC AND A PAVIN (which sounded like pawin)

THEY GAVE UP THINKING OF NAMES FOR THE RANDOM CLASSMATES

ooooo he is listening to their conversationnnnnn

AND THEYRE GONNA INTERACT IN A FRIKIN BATHROOM??? I SWEAR, EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW IS SOUNDWIN CODED, IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU

5ER6CYVTGUOBHIOVTRC6DE5S4E57RCVYUBHUVTRDS3GTFD46F7GY8H

I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY

THEYRE JUST SO

HE'S SO GOUERGJND

LMAO YOU IDIOT

(we're getting so many cheesy cliches right after each other and I am so here for it, I love this so much)

now kiss

OH

OH THIS IS THIS PART???? DAMN

he needs money to pay off his debts, so... he's gonna take a job offer from the guy he pays his debts to? feels kinda pointless, right?

also in this series, pepper reminds me of tor, specifically in midnight museum, so part of my mind thinks hes gonna offer him a job at the museum

LMAO

'MYNAME6969'

I WANT TO KNOW WHO PUT THAT IN THERE AND GIVE THEM A HIGH FIVE BECAUSE THATS FRIKIN HILARIOUS, WHOEVER SNUCK THAT IN THERE

IM DYING I LOVE THAT SO MUCH

as someone who sprained an ankle a little over a month ago, I have some points to make

namely: saifah is right. the first 72 hours are the most important, as long as you're resting it, keeping it elevated, icing it, compressing it, you'll be all good to walk on it in no time. after that, you need to make sure you're still taking care of it, like by wearing a compression sock all the time, and not walking on it too much if it starts hurting, stuff like that. that's the part I didnt do. I took care of it for three days, then kept walking on it like nothing happened, and it's still really painful sometimes, it never properly healed, but like it's fine im surviving

OH I DO NOT LIKE THIS, I DO NOT LIKE THIS AT ALL

HE'S SO OLD

ICKY I FEEL ICKY

there's nothing wrong with the work he's doing, it's just the fact that he's still a kid and thats a 50 year old man

on another note, I ran out of bloody images AGAIN

AND ON ANOTHER NOTE, ITS NEARLY 2AM. IVE BEEN WATCHING FOR NEARLY 2 AND A HALF HOURS AND IM NOT EVEN THREE QUARTERS THROUGH THE EPISODE, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME

[simsim54]

unpopular opinion

I firmly believe that Rhaenyra wasn't fit to be queen, not because she was a girl – that notion is just absurd. What people seem to have forgotten is that it's not one's physical attributes that determine their ability to rule, but rather their intellect, their morals, and their dedication to their kingdom.

Her most significant disadvantage was her father's incompetence. She would have had a better chance of reigning as queen if she had become Daemon's wife and he was named the heir. That arrangement could have been far more effective.

For those who argue that Daemon wouldn't be a good king due to his restlessness and chaos, I believe those qualities would have made him an excellent ruler. He wouldn't have allowed issues to fester for too long and would have actively worked to address them swiftly. Moreover, with two Targaryens and their pure Targaryen children in line for succession, there would have been no need for Viserys to remarry.

While I understand that Rhaenyra didn't want to marry, she had a unique opportunity to see her future kingdom. Instead of making strategic alliances and rallying supporters, she spent her entire tour sulking, akin to a child denied her favorite toy. Considering the era she lived in, where most women had no say in their choice of spouse, her insistence on picking her own husband seems somewhat unreasonable. Even her uncle didn't have that privilege. So why was she throwing temper tantrums?

Let's not even get started on the whole bastard situation, shall we? I mean, why would you even do that? Infidelity aside, the real problem was that the child didn't even remotely resemble you, let alone your husband. But here's where I think Daemon's true love for Rhaenyra shines through. He was willing to accept her bastards as future kings, which speaks volumes about his devotion. However, if we step into a more realistic scenario, imagine if Daemon returned from Pentos, saw Rhaenyra's children, and said, 'No way I'm bowing to any of them.' What if he decided, 'I won't bow to the Hightowers either. It seems I'll need to form a third party and claim the throne for myself, making my daughter the queen.' How different things could have been!

I can almost accept all the points above, but then her father passed away, her brother usurped her crown, and she allowed Otto Hightower to leave Dragonstone alive. I mean, seriously, what was she thinking? That man was the source of 80 percent of her problems, and she just let him go. There was a moment when I wished Daemon had said, 'I'm going to deal with him now and ask for forgiveness later.' That was one of those times.

If none of this had happened, and she had simply been crowned queen, Rhaenyra would have been a second Viserys. She would have spent her time trying to fill Viserys' shoes, just as he tried to fit into Jaehaerys' shoes.

-so this got a little bit out of hand, but these are just my opinions, so please don't judge me too much-

[inklyqueen]

Literally all the critics are so up in their egos

Also Spoiler warnings for the Mario movie because I'm crying and yk it's opening day I'm not that kind of bitch

I don't think many of them understand that they've got it made rn, and they've never experienced the world some of us are living in

And I don't mean it in a mental health sense or anything, I mean in an actual survival as an adult sense

I was literally surprised by how much I related to Mario specifically. He's the oldest. I'm the oldest of six (under a technicality, two of them are my dad's girlfriend's kids but yk). I'm sure his parents have preached that he needs to take care of and watch out for his younger brother (I'm assuming they're still twins in this universe, Mario was always the older twin in the games and other lore), and I've been preached that too. I'm the same way with my siblings as Mario is with Luigi. Throw trash at my sister, see that happens. "The more you fuck around, the more you're gonna find out." And at the end of the day, my parents will be only in my memories at some point, and all I'll have left is my siblings, granted if I never get married, have kids, etc (God willing I hope, not the point though) It seems to me that Mario is incredibly aware of that too, that one day they'll both be at an age where it's literally only him and Luigi and that they may literally be the only one the other has.

What also struck me was the set-up they showed with the boys. They still live with Mom and Dad, still in their childhood bedroom(s?), just trying to find their footing, I assume they want to be independent of their parents. They put their life savings into a commercial to get their company off the ground. I'm assuming they didn't have very much in the first place, especially from the speech their father gave about how "you can't just give up a steady job for a dream," and how Mario (at least specifically I'm assuming) can't hold down a job in the first place. How he's the one that's bringing Luigi down, as if Luigi can't make a decision for himself, and Mario's like his legal guardian or something. It very much seems to me that they've literally leaned on each other for almost everything more than their own parents, and that's screaming volumes for me.

I still live with my parents, and I get the same grief as well over how I haven't gotten it all figured out still. C*vid was zero help, I wasn't even a year out of high school when it hit, I was just starting college and things were not going very well. I'm just now figuring out my degree program, what I want, trying to get my career off the ground, and getting money back in the bank. I can't afford rent, God no, and I'm blessed to have a job that covers tuition now.

But it seems to me that critics don't understand that. For some reason they want this incredible fleshed-out character arc, plot and overreaching plot, Oscar and Emmy winning from day one piece, and besides the fact that this is technically intended for children, some of the ones I've read are literally making just under upper-to-upper class pay and lifestyles by being that judgemental. They don't have to worry about gas (or the electric bills if they have an electric car) in the tank or food on the table or making rent. One said that they "failed to give Mario a personality" (paraphrasing), when literally I'm seeing myself and my survival struggles in this short moustachioed plumber with older sibling anxiety.

Which, I'm pretty sure he's got a mild touch of GAD, or maybe that's me projecting. I'm not a licensed anything. Also added bonus points because I'm shorter than all of the siblings that are at an age to have actual height. One of my siblings is in high school rn and she's taller than me by a good eight inches. I'm six years older than her.

I'm literally out here doing the best I can with a $200 Insurance payment coming and $80 in the bank.

So yeah. Mario is a really good character.

So thankful for him.

[leviabeat]

Volbeat and Asinhell's Michael Poulsen shares the secrets of his success and happiness

Emily Swingle | Metal Hammer | 5/8/24

From bruising hard rock to thrashing psychobilly breakdowns, Michael Poulsen is a heavy metal chameleon. Starting out in death metal band Dominus, the formidable Dane quickly realised the heavy music scene needed a makeover - and along came Volbeat, throwing out big anthems infused with the bounce of 50s rock’n’roll.

Although Volbeat’s latest release, 2021’s Servant Of The Mind, was met with acclaim, Michael deemed it a perfect time to switch things up once more. Last year ushered in his most ferocious outing to date - an 80s-tinged underground death metal monster of a side-project called Asinhell. We sat down with the man himself, to understand what motivates his hectic hunt for a new sound.

DREAM BIG

“A lot of kids dream of being firemen, football players or huge wrestlers… but I always wanted to be a rock star. From a very young age, I was a dreamer, lying on the floor with my head between two speakers, listening to music and drifting away for hours. My parents would come in and tell me I was gonna ruin my ears, but I just couldn’t stop myself.

I created this bubble of sound, just fantasising about the performers and how I could surround myself with music. The idea of becoming a musician wasn’t at the front of my mind, but I was definitely flirting with the idea. The signs were always there.”

IF IT AIN’T BROKE, DON’T FIX IT

“For my new project, Asinhell, we wanted to be true to the old-school metal sound. Yes, we have access to all this hightech, fancy studio equipment - but we wanted to do it like the old days. Fridays have become ‘Death Metal Fridays’, and we’d rehearse in [drummer] Morten Toft Hansen’s small garage. We even recorded it like we used to, back in the days when we were very young and didn’t have coin for anything. And it was exactly what we wanted.”

STIR THE POT (MUSICALLY SPEAKING)

“When it comes music, everything is about my roots. I started playing death metal when I was 15 or 16, but I also grew up with lots of 50s music. My parents were always listening to Elvis, Johnny Cash and those kind of performers. When I was in my death metal band, Dominus, you weren’t really allowed to mix different elements into the music. So, when I formed Volbeat, I made it my mission to cram as many different genres and inspirations as possible into the sound. It felt so liberating.”

EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON

“The struggles I’ve gone through have led to where I am now. There’s no good without bad, light cannot live without the darkness. You have to stay focused, stay positive. I’ve always had that mindset. People go through awful things, but there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Even though I’ve faced challenges, I’m in the right place now, so it’s been worth it.”

IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU

“One of the greatest challenges of my life was becoming a father. Suddenly, it’s not all about you - you’re secondary. Life definitely changed when I had kids. You become more aware of existence, and don’t want to waste time on the wrong things. It forces you to become a better person; you need great personality to bring that to your kids, to make sure they’re good people. Being a parent is an amazing challenge.”

MUSIC CONNECTS US ALL

“When I started, the internet wasn’t really a thing. It was all about getting out there, meeting people - and music was how you could do that. When you loved, say, extreme underground stuff, you quickly became aware of the scene, and you could get involved with those groups of people. The underground scene has always been about connecting with other people.

Even now, you see fans travelling to different cities, different countries, and they immediately know they’ll meet like-minded people at a show. No matter where you go, if there’s a concert, or a music community, you know you’ve got a friend. There’s something very special about the music community.”

LET A PROJECT SPEAK FOR ITSELF

“Before the internet, how you promoted yourself was totally different. The only way to be heard was by tape trading, sending out flyers, or meeting people in people in record stores or venues.

The internet can make it easy to over-hype yourself - and I never want to over-hype my own music. I hate it when certain bands are shoved in your face – you see them everywhere before you’ve even listened to one note. Music shouldn’t be pushed to a level where it becomes overexposed. If it’s good, people will find it.”

YOU SHOULD SEE THE WORLD

“When we started touring, it was magical. Suddenly you were going to another country that you’d never been to, and the next day, it’d be somewhere else new. I’d get home and my family would be so excited, saying, ‘You’ve seen more of the world in one week that we have in our whole lives!’

The lessons you learn when traveling are so important. I’d say traveling is an incredible thing to experience and that everyone should immerse themselves in as many cultures as humanly possible."

...BUT HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

“There comes a time when, after many years of touring, you just want to be at home. I’m not really a fan of traveling, nowadays. I like being with my family, picking my kids up from school, from kindergarten. I am a homebody - when I get back from tour, sometimes it’s a battle for my wife to get me out of my house!”

FAMILY COMES FIRST

“I have a twin sister, and we have such a strong connection. But having a child only made me more aware of how ridiculously special a family connection is. My daughter was born a little too early; when my wife started going into labor, I was actually on tour with Metallica in the US, maybe in New York.

My wife called in the middle of the night saying, ‘My water just broke’, and I knew I had to be there - even if that meant canceling a show with Metallica. When I went to the hospital and held my daughter for the first time, it was the most amazing thing. I can’t even describe it.”

TAKE CARE OF YOUR BODY

“I’m a very bad sleeper, so sometimes with touring, the lack of sleep is terrible. Tour buses are a nightmare. When you’ve not slept in five or six days, it really impacts your energy, and my voice really suffers. So I’d say sleep is essential. In terms of the body, I’ve also really gotten into running - I just love it. I need it. It’s like a drug for me, that runner’s high. Runner’s high is an actual high, I promise you!”

WHILE YOU’RE AWAKE, BE USEFUL

“The biggest challenge I’ve ever faced was losing my father. You become very quickly aware of what life is all about, but also how short it is. My father always said, ‘Michael, while you are awake, be useful.’ That’s a great life lesson – I live by it. I’m not good at sitting around doing nothing. Before music, I’ve always had hobbies, be that football, cycling, or breakdancing - I even came second place in a breakdancing competition once.”

…AND IF YOU CAN’T BE USEFUL, KEEP BUSY!

“I’m always extremely busy, and I always want to be. I surround myself with good people who inspire me to keep pushing myself. I’m very, very proud of what I’ve accomplished in my musical career. I could retire if I wanted to, but that’s not how I function. I’m always inspired, I love what I’m doing. Ultimately, life is all about experience. I believe that the more we live, the more we get done, the better people we become.”

[artyandink]

the girl that kindness forgot | part 2

THERE’S NO ONE AS RECKLESS AS YOU

“Laila, are you absolutely sure that it’s a Type 2?” I frantically asked, speaking through my earpiece. 

‘I did my research. Unusual and powerful activity confirms that it’s a type 2.’ 

“Pull up a list of all former residents. I need to find out who this ghost is and what’s their reason to haunt people.” I ordered, before pulling out my rapier and opening the door, finding a chaotic and significantly dangerous scene. Lockwood’s new employee was hanging from a picture frame desperately, screaming out for him to save her, and Lockwood himself was desperately fending the ghost off, loose articles of clothing like his tie and coat flapping around limply. I sprinted up the stairs, quickly spinning around and slashing my blade across the midsection of the translucent supernatural being, making it screech and retreat. 

“I thought you were only useful if things got too dangerous.” Lockwood spat as I helped up the girl. 

“You walked into a house with a very dangerous Type 2, so I think my help is in order.” I retorted before turning to the girl who looked my age. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” She replied. “Who are you?” 

“No time. If this is too much for you, you need to leave the house and you’ll be safe.” I explained, but she shook her head. 

“No. I’m staying.” 

“Angry ghost over here!” I heard Lockwood yell, so I lit a flare and threw it swiftly, fending the ghost off again. 

“What did you do to make her angry?!” I interrogated, somersaulting across the room.

”I dunno, maybe your outfit change did it!” Lockwood shot back, throwing another flare. 

“You’re being really petty!” 

“We don’t have time for this!” 

“You’re right, Lucy!” I shouted, “We need to take this elsewhere.” 

“How do you know her name?!”

We stood in front of a chimney breast, where the woman disappeared into. 

“I got intel from my assistant. Her name’s Annabel Ward, she disappeared in the 80s. I’m banking my money on murder victim.” I explained, hands in my pockets.

“Of course you’ve got intel.” Lockwood snivelled. 

“Grow up, will you?!” I snapped. 

“Um…” I turned to Lucy, blinking at her because I was interrupted in the middle of my conversation. “Not to be rude, exactly, but who are you?”

”Sorry about that. My name’s Artemis Hernandez-“ 

“But Miss Hernandez in the office-“

”Shut up. Lockwood and I trained together before I left to help my parents with their company, SP3CTR.” I explained with a smile.

“You mean SP3CTR, the company that made billions, right?” Lucy gasped. “You own it?” 

“Yeah. I do.” I grinned. 

“Bloody hell-“ 

“Can we focus on the dead body?” Lockwood piped up, sounding irritated. We broke down the wall, finding the body in there. “I was right. She’s a murder victim.” I stared at him, hard. Really, mate? 

“Use the silver net.” I ordered, holding my weapons at the ready. The male stepped back, his foot crunching something. 

“Ooh, careful.” Lucy warned. “You broke the circle.” We fixed it, and my mind instantly connected with something. 

“We’re not alone.” I whipped around to see Annabel herself, the doors slamming shut. 

“Boring. Try something else, would you?” Lockwood taunted. 

“Don’t!” Lucy contradicted. “She’s angry.” 

“Living over dying, Lucy!” I lashed out, sending Annabel back, but she rebounded, knocking the rapier out of Lucy’s hand. Lockwood was distracted, so the ghost was advancing on him, and I felt a connection with her. 

You’re just like him. 

Help me… 

Save me… 

Let me go... 

“LOCKWOOD!” I screamed, shielding him. “If you wanna get to him, you’ll have to go through me. And then you won’t get what you want, d’you understand?” I saw myself in Annabel, a girl cursed to be lost. And I wanted to help her, I really did. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“Saving you, what else?” I retorted. “Now get the job done!” 

“Alright, Lucy, I’m gonna hold her back with Hernandez. You get a silver net over the body. In other words, Plan F.” 

“That's not Plan F.”

“Uh… I mean Plan B.” 

“Plan B is salt bombs! She’s too strong for salt bombs!” 

“For god’s sake! We’ll draw her attention, you contain the source.” 

“That’s Plan E.” 

“When this is done, you need to look over the lettering system!” I shouted, initiating the distraction part of the plan. 

“Speak for Lockwood!” Lucy replied, covering the body with a net. However, she froze. 

“EARTH TO LUCY!” 

“Hurry, Lucy!” She suddenly whipped around, blindly throwing the flare. As if in slow motion, the flare exploded, the plaster catching on fire and started spreading quickly. Lucy ran to Lockwood, taking him by the shoulders. “Are you alright?” 

“Apart from our client’s house burning to the ground, absolutely fine.” 

“What took you so long? What exactly were you doing?” I asked, stepping forward.

“I told you. Something wasn’t right, I had to…” 

“Had to what? What wasn’t right? We secured the source, didn’t we?” 

“We should not be having this conversation here.” I cut in, climbing onto the balcony’s rail, Lockwood following. 

“Agreed. We should jump from here while there’s still something to jump from.” Lockwood agreed. 

“Jump? No, it’s too high, we’ll breaks our necks!” Lucy contradicted, eyes apprehensive. 

“Do we have another option?!” I swiftly contested. “On my count. One, two, three!” We leapt from the balcony, landing in two crumpled heaps on the floor, but luckily we had no broken bones or necks. I’d landed on my feet, so as the other two got up, I couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Laugh it up, Hernandez.” Lockwood complained. “We need to get back to my house. And quickly.” 

“What were you thinking, showing up like that?” Lockwood whispered angrily as we were walking back. “Lucy and I had it under control.” 

“Let’s see, you angered a Type 2, set a house on fire and as the cherry on top, you almost got ghost touched. If I wasn’t there to help, then you’d both be dead.” I snapped equally as angry and quiet. 

“You rejected helping me.” 

“Now I’m aware that without my help, you most definitely will end up in a bad place.” I retorted. 

“And why is that?” 

“There’s no one more reckless than you, Anthony Lockwood.” I matched his gaze, icy blue meeting dark brown. 

“I can think of someone.” 

“Oh yeah? Who?” 

“Artemis Hernandez.”

[lgcjaejin]

NKND - INTERVIEW | SOLO

The decision to interview was an easy one. Jaejin was many things, but naive wasn't one of them. He had been a trainee for over two years and had seen what indecisiveness could do, or not do, for one's career. So, when the news came regarding the new male group auditions, he knew he had to throw his name in the ring. Even if there was only a small chance for him to get picked, it was still a chance worth taking.

Jaejin tood in front of the large mirror, a nervous excitement bubbling in his chest as he adjusted his outfit for what felt like the hundredth time. The room was filled with the buzz of anticipation as other hopefuls went before him. Jaejin ran through possible interview scenarios in his mind, rehearsing answers and trying to exude confidence.

As his turn approached, he took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and entered the interview room with a determined stride. This was his moment to show that he was ready to give it his all.

why are you interested in being in NEWKIDS NEWDREAMS? [Word Count: 80]

Sitting comfortably in the chair, he took a moment to consider the question. His lips curved into a playful smile before he responded, "Well, why not?" He chuckled "I mean, there's no time quite like the present to chase your dreams, right?"

The soft lighting in the room accentuated his earnest expression. He continued, "NEWKIDS NEWDREAMS is more than just an opportunity. It's a way to put myself out there into the world." I've spent years as a trainee, putting in the hard work, learning, growing, and now, I feel I'm ready to show the world what I can do"

He gestured subtly with his hands, emphasizing his words. "This is ultimately the first step of many towards that final goal."

considering the current confirmed members, what can you add to the formation ON stage if you are picked? [word count 110]

"A terrible dancer?" he snickers as his hearty laugh fills the room. Taking a moment to regain composure, "Nah, I'm just kidding." His eyes sparkled with good humor before he continued, "I haven't really had a chance to interact with the guys in the group so far, but I know of a few of them."

"BK and Noeul are great performers and even better rappers," Jaejin praised, nodding in admiration. "And then there's Yichen, an all-rounder. His dancing skills are amazing, and he's got a great voice too."

Pausing for a moment, his expression turned thoughtful. "I think I could add vocals to the lineup," he mused. "It's great having people who excel at a lot of things, but sometimes you just need a one-trick pony- y'know. The guy in the back belting his brains out while everyone else is dancing their asse... uh," he pauses at his slip up before offering a playful smile to the interviewer "I mean, dancing their butts off."

which skill (singing, dancing, acting, modeling, instrument…) do you want to be known for and why? [ Word Count: 93 words]

A mischievous glint is evident in his eyes as he mulls over the question. "Well, if I had to choose, I'd probably go with my extraordinary talent for... juggling flaming swords while riding a unicycle!" he exclaimed dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips " I hear It's a real showstopper, you know?".

After a moment of laughter, his expression turns more earnest. "But, seriously," he began. His voice took on a more thoughtful tone. "I want people to know me for my singing."

As he spoke, his words had a subtle passion. "There's something truly magical about connecting with people through music," he continued. He gestured gently to emphasize his point. "I know it's kind of cliché, but I believe I was put on this earth to sing."

A genuine smile graced his lips as he delved deeper into his thoughts. "And hitting those high notes? It's a surge of electricity not like anything you’ve ever felt before." He brimmed with excitement as he spoke, " Singing is definitely where I shine the brightest!"

what kind of concept are you good at and what kind are you bad at? [word counter:104]

"I'm all about lively and refreshing concepts," Jaejin declared. "Imagine it: bright colors, upbeat music, and energetic dances that get everyone on their feet! That's the kind of stage I want—where every performance feels as if its full of joy and positive energy." He animated his gestures, illustrating the dynamic stage presence he envisioned.

"I think I would really struggle with dark and mysterious concepts," he says making it clear that that was out of his comfort zone. "Imagine me trying to look all serious and mysterious," he joked, "I'd probably end up looking like an idiot trying to solve an impossible puzzle."

"Seriously though, I think the whole dark and brooding vibe is just not me. I prefer concepts that are fun and can get a crowd on their feet."

what kind of group would you ideally want to be part of and why? (examples: self-composing type, self-content making type, known for high performance, known for live vocals, etc.…) [word counter 95]

"I’d love to be in a group that fans feel like they can be friends with and can connect to. The approachability factor is crucial, for me" Jaejin mused, "on a less metaphysical level I would ideally want  us to be known for our synchronicity,  live singing, and variety skills."

As he spoke, his hands gestured wildly, painting a vivid picture of his aspirations. "We could blow everyone away with our amazing stage performances," he said. A spark of determination was present in his voice. "And then, off-stage," he said. A mischievous grin spread across his face. "We'd be cracking jokes, doing dance challenges, we'd be literal variety stars."

Jaejin's eyes glinted with excitement. He envisioned lively group interactions. "It's about forming a deep bond with the fans," he said. His gaze showed his sincerity. "Leaving them buzzing after every show," he added with a nod.

-

After concluding the interview, Jaejin was thanked and then dismissed. As he retreated towards the door he couldn't help but feel hopeful for what was to come. A feeling, a surge of excitement and determination coursed through him. all he needed was one chance and he knew he wouldn't let them down. After all he had not only the skill but also the desire and drive.

Before exiting the room he turned around and thanked the interviewer once more. leaving the room with hope and anticipation for what the future might hold.