#Holy shit they're like 2 drops of water

[strawberrylemonadesoda]

Stephen on the left vs his son Noah on the right.

#stephen lang #Slang #miles quaritch #father and son #crime story #Noah lang #Holy shit they're like 2 drops of water #Stephen you have some strong genes sir #He certainly made beautiful babies #Damn i should not say that

[ur-dad-satan]

Horny Obey Me! Thoughts 2

16+

The way I need Diavolo to absolutely rail and destroy me is absolutely insane.

I would let Luci, Mam, Sat, Beel, Dia, Sim, and Mephisto fuc my throat at the drop of a hat. I swear I'll hit the floor faster than a drop of water on Jupiter.

Put me in a room with any of the brothers or the undatables (adults only) while they're wearing a suit?? I'd be sweating like a whore in church. You would not be able to keep me off of these men.

I don't think we talk about Levi enough. I mean yeah, I like to make fun if him for being a weeb and socially awkward (me) but we do not talk about how fucking powerful that man is. He's in charge of the fucking army of HELL!! THAT'S SO FUCKING HOT

I wanna take Beel, Luci, Dia, and Barbs and make them whimper and squirm so bad. I need them to be blushing messes. I need them pussy drunk, red hot faces, covered in sweat, can't make eye contact, completely fucking wrecked.

Diavolo or really any of them pointing out the fucking size difference between us like holy fuck. Yes, let my know how small I am. Make me feel smaller with your overwhelming size. Please lift me like I weigh nothing. Holy shit!!

I headcannon that Beel cannot be lowkey when he wants to fuck. He won't out right say "let's fuck" in front of everyone, but he would whisper into your ear something along the lines of like "I can't wait to get you all to myself and ravish you." or something like thatttt!! Once we finish and people ask what happened, he'll say something like "don't worry about it" and just smirk. Aaaaaaaaa this man is going to ruin me. (I wish)

The bros and the undatables all competing for your attention when you make a joke that's just a little bit too... Spicy and the way that they wouldn't stop until you look like you've been run (over) by a train no matter how long it takes??

The shyer brothers would probably have a panic attack if you just suddenly threw it back on them. Like they would need to take several steps back, a cold compress, and maybe even a paper bag to breath into.

Call me tracks because I'm waiting in this fictional TRAIN- I need to use them like toys I swear to fuck.

You canonically have pacts with all of the brothers. Imaging what kind of dommy (mommy/daddy) shit you can get up to with that power over them!!

I headcannon that MC does dirty lyric pranks on the brothers when they're bored and want attention. It almost never ends well, but MC is no longer craving attention. That bitch just wants a wheelchair afterwards.

I wanna make Lucifer specifically a moaning begging mess. Beg for me to stop edging you. Beg for me to put my-... Beg for me to stop teasing you and let you c-...

I can't tell whether Beel would be immaculate or horrible at oral. Like he would know exactly how to move his tongue to get every bit of everything, or if he would misunderstand the assignment and it would take a horrible left turn... He would know what he's doing...

I need Levi's tongue and Barb's tail to part me like the red Sea.

#obey me shitpost #obey me crack #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me smut #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me beel #obey me brothers #obey me undateables #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me satan #obey me simeon #omg i am not okay #i need them #i want them #hornyyy #why cant they be real #i need them so bad

[petrichor-idyllic]

ON YOUR OWN PT. 2

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Request for @d4n1elll4

SUMMARY: Follow up from part 1. Fem! Reader x Minho. Reader x Platonic! Gladers. Movie based fic.

I have a whole ass movie to cover here- so some scenes that aren't important to your character get brushed over. Sorry, this is long enough as is and I have another part to write.

You've escaped the Maze, and with your words of wisdom from Thomas, it's time to survive the Scorch. Which is harder than it looks. But what happens when you over estimate your abilities when no one else is around? At least, you think there isn't.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, awkward teenagers, more dumbass dog, some sexual tension if you squint a bit, Minho has lightning scars, WICKED being WCKD because movie.

Okay, maybe this was a bad idea.

After Thomas' advice, you went and raided the lab and went back to the Middle to get as many supplies as you could- which took an entire day in itself.

But still, that might not have been enough.

Somehow, the Scorch is even more confusing than the Maze. You have no idea where you are or what direction you're actually meant to head in. It would've been nice for Thomas to give you some directions, but it seemed like the boy was on a tight schedule.

It's been a couple of days, and your makeshift piece of wood with some rope attached that you're pulling over your shoulder, is a lot heavier with a lazy German Shepherd on it. Your arm aches and you're running out of water.

This is less than ideal.

Not to mention they call it the Scorch for a reason. The days are unbearably hot and the nights send chills through your body. But you can't stop, especially since you don't have a clue where you're going.

That doesn't mean you're coping well, though. You're exhausted, deciding to pick moving over sleep. You're dehydrated, sleep-deprived, your body hurts and has forgotten how to regulate its own temperature. You feel like you're dying.

And honestly, you might just be.

The blazing sun beats down on you the same way it destroyed half of the planet, and you're starting to regret leaving the Maze.

You're sweating, but feel cold and your head is pounding. You push through as your vision starts to be clouded by dark spots. Though, when your knees go weak and you hit the floor, your options are looking slim. In a desperate attempt, you roll onto your back, grasping for your water bottle, your hearing cuts out as no water comes from the bottle.

Your hand hits the floor as your eyes roll back.

You're one for the vultures now.

Well, not quite.

"Uh, guys?" Frypan says as the group bickers in the background. They'd just lost Winston, and Thomas is being salty about Teresa getting her memories back but not telling him about it whilst Newt and Minho fight over a water bottle. Aris hasn't said anything for the last two hours and doesn't intend on changing that anytime soon. They're definitely not your best shot, but it's all you've got. Not that you're conscious to argue.

"Guys!" He snaps, making the group behind him look at him. "Are you shanks seein' this or am I having a marriage?"

"Do you mean mirage?" Newt chuckles, making his way over to his friend, patting his shoulder as he expects to look out and find absolutely nothing from the top of their sand dune. "Holy shuck," he mumbles, his expression dropping.

"What?" Minho asks as he approaches, Thomas and Aris not far behind him, with Teresa being the last to join.

"Is that... a dog?" Teresa asks.

In the distance, your useless dog has decided to actually do something to help you- aimlessly run around the Scorch to try and find help.

Quest spotted them from a mile away and is making a beeline towards them, barking his little head off.

As the dog gets closer, it stops at the bottom of the mound of sand, and Teresa's face drops. "Holy shit. Quest?"

The boys snap to look at her.

"Quest?" Minho raises his eyebrow. "The shuck is Quest?"

"He is! That's- That's Quest! He's (Y/N)'s dog!" Without giving anymore explanation, she stumbles through the sand, nearly falling over as she rushes to the dog.

"Who the hell is (Y/N)?" Newt asks, just in general. Frypan shrugs, deciding to follow the girl with Thomas hot on his heels and Aris blindly following anyone who moves. Newt goes to join in, but he hesitates when he sees Minho's face.

It's an expression he can't quite put his finger on. It's like that one time someone pointed out that the Grievers were also probably made by the people who were feeding you- like a small piece of the puzzle just fell into place.

"Mate, you good?"

"Hm?" Minho snaps back to reality. "Yeah, I'm good- let's find out why there's a shuckin' mutt in the middle of the damn desert."

Minho starts walking towards Quest but it takes Newt a second to follow.

Something just happened in the Runner's head. And Newt's almost scared to find out what.

In truth, your name sent chills down Minho's spine and a rush of adrenaline through his body. He doesn't understand why- but it was that strange feeling when someone mentions the name of someone you have a crush on when you're not expecting it.

But he'll deal with that later.

"We have to find (Y/N)!" Teresa demands. "She'd never leave Quest on his own!"

"Who the everliving shuck is (Y/N)?" Minho asks as he strides over, looking at Thomas who simply gives him a shrug.

Teresa sighs. "She was one of us- from a Maze. Thomas lied about her dying and basically turned her Maze off- she has to be out here."

"What?" About three boys say at the same time.

Quest barks, not letting her explain further. He spins around, taking a playful stance before starting to run off in the opposite direction.

"C'mon!" Teresa shouts.

"Teresa-!" Thomas lets out a loud and frustrated groan. "We don't have time for this."

The boys feel like they're aimlessly wondering around the Scorch for about twenty minutes as they let this random dog take them on a wild goose chase. But when Teresa suddenly stops, gasping, they realise this might be more serious than they originally thought.

"No," Teresa mumbles, "No! (Y/N)! She runs down another dune, falling to her knees next to your unconscious body.

"What the shuck?" Newt mumbles.

To his surprise, Minho is actually the first to follow her (probably because he hates her guts). It's obvious that Minho is used to the solid concrete of the Maze as he fumbles over himself, the loose texture of the sand making him unbalanced.

Staring at your unconscious body, a strange wave of familiarity smacks him in the face. He knows you. At least, it feels like he does. But he has absolutely no recollection of you whatsoever.

"Minho," Teresa snaps, forcing him out of his trance, "water!" The boy fumbles, passing the ravenette a bottle as she opens your mouth, pouring some in and sitting you up more so you don't choke. She checks your pulse and your breathing. "She's alive." She confirms as the other boys join.

"We need to wait until she wakes up-"

"We need to move, Teresa," Thomas says, "we can't risk everything over this."

"Thomas is right," Newt groans. "We have to move- we can't afford to stay here."

"We can't just leave her," Teresa argues, "you saved her before, Thomas, even if you don't remember it- it was for a reason."

"She's right," Minho agrees, making everyone look at him. In all honesty, his curiosity is driving him more than anything, but the thought of leaving you makes his chest hurt and his fists ball. "We need all the help we can get- and if Teresa knows her, then we all probably did at some point. Besides, if we're gonna pretend to be good guys- this seems like a good place to start."

"Yeah, can't argue with that," Frypan sides with the Runner and then looks at Aris, who simply nods in agreement. Relief crosses both of Teresa's and Minho's faces as they've won the vote.

So, the Gladers set up camp as night starts to fall, with Teresa keeping an eye on you; Quest never leaving your side.

They also steal your food. Compensation, I guess.

You stir awake, your head pounding as you rise up. Quest immediately barks, getting everyone's attention before he starts licking your face.

"Quest, chill, bro," you mumble, trying to push the dog away.

"You're awake," Teresa says, snapping your attention to her. You blink. "You gave us a real scare."

You're lying on the sand, using someone's bag as a pillow as you're surrounded by people. Not only have you seen most of these people in your dreams, but you literally saw Thomas and Teresa on video.

What the actual fuck?

People. There's people. There are actual living people here and talking to you.

Maybe you should pass out more often.

"W-what?" You stutter out, straining to sit up.

"Take it easy," the girl soothes you, "you were out cold for quite a while."

"I-I don't understand," tears start to prick your eyes, "is this real? Am I dreaming?"

"Klunky shuckin' dream if you are," Minho says, gaining the courage to speak to you as he comes to your other side. "Here." He holds a water bottle out to you.

It's him.

Him.

He's here.

You look between him and the bottle. He's even more attractive in person and this weird crush you'd developed for someone you don't even remember speaking to puts you in an interesting situation.

You takes the drink, briefly brushing fingers for a second and it sends a spark down Minho's spine. Okay, what's happening to him here?

"Thanks," he pulls his lips into a thin line in response.

"Your dog brought us to you," Teresa explains. "Do you remember us? At all?"

You blink, considering your words very carefully so you don't sound insane. You open your mouth, but as your eyes flicker to movement, only one word leaves your mouth.

"You," Thomas is stood with his arms crossed, his eyebrows twitching. "Y-you stopped the Maze- you're the reason I escaped."

"Yeah, so I keep being told," he sighs. You tilt your head as you sit up straight.

"You don't remember?"

He shakes his head. "None of us do. Teresa got her memories back, but we didn't."

"What? Why don't you..?" Your voice trails off. "Were you guys from more Mazes?"

Minho almost feels weirdly jealous at the attention Thomas is getting from you. This makes no sense. So, he butts in.

"Me, Thomas, Teresa, Frypan and Newt were all from the same Maze," he explains each person giving you an awkward wave in turn, "and Aris is from a different one."

You look at him, your eyes becoming hollow before they come to your dog. "You guys were together?" Your voice is barely a whisper.

It's like your heart breaks in that moment. These people had each other? Why didn't you have someone? Why were you abandoned?

Minho looks at Newt for advice, who simply shrugs. Great help, thanks, Newt.

He crouches next to you. "You okay?"

You can't even look at him. "They put you guys together? Like you were a group?"

"Yeah," his eyebrows furrow, confusion taking over his expression, "there was like fifty boys in our Maze."

You turn to look at him again. "What?"

"What? What- I don't get it," he pinches his brow, "What's going on here?"

"You guys were together? And all I had was my dog?" Quest seems to sense your unease, resting his head on your crossed legs.

Minho's expression softens, he looks between Thomas and Teresa for help.

"You were on your own?" Thomas asks.

You nod. "Yeah, just me and my dumbass dog." You scoff.

As much as you tried to ignore it and pretend it didn't faze you, and that animals are better anyway, being on your own for so long killed some small part of you. And these guys didn't have to go through that?

There's a long pause. "Wait, hold on, you survived the Maze all on your own?" You look at Minho, who is staring at you like you're the closest thing he's going to get to meeting a God.

"Not like I had much choice," you give him a small smile, and he stands up, mumbling something to himself.

They start to fill you in on what happened with WCKD and that they're currently on the run, and you tell them what Thomas' past self told you.

It's obvious you've not been socially conditioned as you feel very awkward. Though, you and Aris get along pretty well since neither of you came from the Glade.

You sit in front of the fire, Quest sitting next to you as you hold your hands in front of you. You flinch slightly when Minho joins you, clearly yet to adapt to the boy's presence.

"Sorry," he mumbles, awkwardly putting his hands out to show he's no harm but not really sure how to go about that properly. He doesn't day anything else, seemingly just enjoying the warmth as you sit with your knees to your chest.

You have no idea what the appropriate way to act here is.

Do you start a conversation? Is it inappropriate to look at him? What's the right amount of eye contact? How to person good?

"I can't believe they put you in a Maze on your own," thankfully, Minho beats you to it. "You realise how insane that is, right?"

"Not really," you chuckle, "I've never known any different."

"Well, there was like fifty of us, and we're the only people that actually got out alive- and Winston, so..." He trails off, struggling to process it.

Minho spent years of his life protecting and helping the Gladers escape- but he had help. If it weren't for Thomas, Alby, Teresa, Newt, and maybe even Gally to some extent, Minho doubts he would've survived that long.

"Like I said, what choice did I have?"

"Bet it was lonely."

You pause, deciding to play it off instead since you really don't know him- even if it feels that way.

"Nah," you scoff, "I had Quest," you refer to the sleeping dog next to you. "Dumb mutt."

"That dumb mutt saved your ass today."

"Yeah, I know," you sigh. "One hell of a coincidence you guys just happened to be in the Scorch at the same time as me."

"Yeah, well, there's been a lot of coincidences recently- I mean, Thomas was only in the Glade for like three days," he laughs, "I only met the shank like a week ago."

"What? What's a shank?" You look at him, resting your head on your knees, and something about the way you look at him makes his stomach flip.

"It's uh, well-" he clears his throat, composing himself, "I don't really know. It's just like an insult, I guess."

"So, you guess have your own slang? That's kinda fun."

"Yeah, Alby would shout at us if we actually swore- he was like an old man."

"Alby?"

Minho goes quiet for a second. "Yeah, he- he was my boss, I guess. First Greenie in the Glade and he basically ran the joint. He sacrificed himself to save us."

You guess that's the benefit of being on your own- no grief. You can't attend the funerals of people you were never introduced to.

"He sounds like a good man."

Minho smiles softly. "Yeah, he was. Lost a lotta good people."

"I'm sorry you went through that," his eyes flicker to you, and you're surprised when he playfully nudges you.

"You, too."

The group decides to sleep, you included. The fire is put out and you all lie in the sand. Quest curls up next to you, and you've not fully recovered from your exhausted body, so sleep comes easy enough.

Though, Minho's wide awake. He sits on the ground, his eyes fixated on you.

"Alright," Newt groans, "what's goin' on in your shuckin' head?"

"What?" Minho looks to the blond, who's now resting on his elbows as he's lay down.

"You're actin' weird, dude- you like the new girl or some klunk?"

Minho drops his head, scoffing. "Shit, I was joking," Newt snorts when his friend doesn't respond.

"I mean, she is cute," Minho grins, turning into a chuckle when Newt's eyebrows raise.

"She looks like a corpse."

"Yeah, 'cause she nearly was one." Minho defends you before sighing. "But, no- I mean, I don't know. It's weird, she feels... familiar, almost. Like I used to know her." He hesitates. "Like we used to be close."

Newt processes this for a second. It's rare for Minho to be so unsure of himself. "Well, Teresa knows her, so I don't think that'd be that far-fetched."

"Yeah, I guess," the Runner mumbles.

"Get some sleep, shank- I ain't dealing with your grumpy ass in the morning," Newt tells him and Minho rolls his eyes, but reluctantly lies down.

None of you actually get much sleep thanks to Thomas.

"Guys! Guys!" He scrambles, shoving anyone close enough to get attacked.

"Ugh, what?" Someone responds.

"Get up! Get up! Frypan! Aris! Get up. I see something! You see that?" Thomas points off into the distance, lights flickering as the faint outline of a city skyline is just about visibly through the thick grey of dawn. You all scramble to your feet. "It's lights."

"We made it," Minho lets out a sigh of relief, which is cut short when the crackling of thunder turns you all around.

Deep grey clouds loom nearby, the darkness only broken up by blinking flashing of lightning.

"Let's go. We gotta go," Thomas says. "Come on!"

Panic sets in relatively quickly as everyone stumbles to get their bags and belongings. Not fully recovered from the previous day, you stumble, dropping some stuff from your (poor) luggage attempt.

"Shit," you hiss, dipping to grab some bags of food and water bottles.

Quest barks, and Minho turns to find you on your hands and knees, desperately trying to collect your belongings.

He grabs your arm, pulling you up. "Leave it! We'll find supplies in the city, we gotta go!"

He gives you very little choice but to go with him. He yanks you towards him, pushing you forward as you start to break into a sprint, merging with the rest of the group.

Booking it through the Scorch, you come across a parking lot with what looks to be an old factory building attached. You'll be able to escape the storm there.

That's until there's a blinding light to your left and Minho is thrown several feet, landing on the concrete with a thud.

A few of you are knocked down, you and Thomas included as ringing shatters through your skull. You groan, looking around. Thomas seems conscious, but the other boy is out cold.

You're on your feet in seconds as a strange feeling of almost heart break and pure panic takes over.

"Minho!" You shout, desperately trying to pull him up. "Help him!" You yell despite not being able to hear your own voice after being briefly deafened.

Thomas is the first to help you, and for a brief second you lock eyes. You don't know why you're crying- but you are. Tears pour down your face as your vision is blurred, but with the help of Thomas, and now Newt and Aris, you're able to get him up.

Frypan found a door into the building and is shouting you all to follow, but you're having some kind of emotional breakdown and Quest is getting in the way of your feet.

You've... never cried before?

Even back in the Maze, you never shed a tear. You just kind of got mad and hit things, and then got over it and went on with your day. Maybe it was because you never had to deal with the emotional attachments of other people, but all it took was Minho getting hurt for your tough act to crack.

Plowing into the dark room and slamming to the door behind you, Thomas tells you to put Minho down before turning on a tourch.

"Minho!" Thomas shakes his friend. The room is briefly filled with people exclusively saying his name.

"Move," you push Thomas out of the way, pressing your fingers to the unconscious boys throat, trying to find a pulse. Leaning in to check his breathing, you're startled when he suddenly groans.

Lifting his head, he makes eye contact with you and visible relief washes over him.

Oh, God, you're close. He lean back again, giving him room to breathe as he tries to process what the hell just happened?

"What happened?" He grumbles.

"You got struck by lightning." Newt says, bluntly after a pause.

"Oh."

The boys chuckle amongst themselves and you shake your head.

For some reason, you playfully punch Minho in the arm as he gets him. "You nearly gave me a fuckin' heart attack."

It's a simple gesture, really, but it's unusual for someone you've just met- but it's almost natural, like you've known him your whole life. I guess in a way, it does feel like that for you.

"Sorry," he mumbles, chuckling as he's fully on his feet. "Thanks, guys." He grins at his friends, who give a mix of rolling eyes and friendly pats.

"Hey," Teresa gets the group's attention, clearly not as concerned about Minho's well-being as the others, "what's that smell?"

She turns her light on and is nearly immediately attacked by a Crank. She jumps back, screaming, but the Crank hits the floor, restrained by chains, in its desperate attempt to get to her.

"Behind you!" Teresa yells and you're suddenly yanked back again. Minho pulls you behind him as Quest stands in front of him, seemingly protecting him, too.

Pure chaos ensues as the group screams and shouts, and between the blur of lights and being stuck in the middle of the huddle, you can't really make out what's going on.

"I see you've met our guard dogs," an unfamiliar voice says as yellow light bleeds into the room. Peaking from behind Minho, you watch a short-haired girl make her way through the crowd of chained up Cranks.

"Stay back!" Minho shouts, his arm coming out in front of you as you stand on your tip-toes, unintentially pressing your front into his back.

Minho is still a dumb hormonal teenage boy, so that's definitely grounds for his brain to go fuzzy- but he can't afford to get distracted here.

"You guys look like shit," the girl says, almost jokingly. "Come on. Follow me. Unless you wanna stay here with them."

You all exchange concerned glances, but no one moves as the girl walks off.

"For fuck's sake," you mumble, pushing through the boys. "We can't stay here- c'mon."

Your independence comes out as you take the lead, Thomas jogging to catch up to you but careful to avoid being shredded by what used to be people. Your options are slim, and you know who you'd rather deal with- they just decided to follow.

The girl leads you in the factory, which looks like it's been turned into a refugee camp.

"Come on, keep up." She instructs. "Jorge wants to meet you."

Leading you up some stairs, Thomas finally speaks. "Who's Jorge?" He pushes in front of you, Teresa by his side. So you fall back, walking between Minho and Newt, with Frypan next to Newt.

"You'll see. No one's come out of the Scorch in a long time- you've just got him curious." She pauses, looking over her shoulder to look Thomas up and down. "Me, too."

You look at Minho, who smirks slightly as he looks back at you before both of you look at Newt, who is wearing a similar expression- especially when Teresa's face drops. The three of you have to try not to laugh. This could be funny, and apparently Thomas is a chick magnet.

I mean, look at him; you can't really blame them. (Don't tell Minho).

But the amusement is short-lived when Newt looks behind him and there's a group of men, looking like they want to eat you all alive. Minho grabs your wrist, pulling you in front of him just a little bit as Quest keeps close to your side.

"Anyone else starting to get a bad feeling about this place?" Newt asks, noticing the way Minho's keeping you close and the way you all just interacted sending alarm bells off in his head. Maybe Minho wasn't tripping before- you do feel familiar.

"Let's just hear him out," Thomas looks back at you guys, "see what he has to say."

Going up another set of industrial stairs, you entire a large office room with a giant dome window that is covered in rust.

"Jorge," the girl gets the attention of a man fiddling with a radio, "They're here." She sits on an old sofa and appears bored whilst Jorge mutters to himself.

He turns around, hands on his hips and sighing. "Do you ever get the feeling the whole world's against you?"

You all exchange glances before he continues.

"Three questions: where did you come from? Where are you going? How can I profit?" No one says anything as you realise Newt was probably right. "Don't all answer at once."

"We're headed for the mountains," Thomas offers an answer, "looking for the Right Arm."

The men behind you snicker and even Jorge scoffs, taking a sip from his drink.

"Looking for ghosts, you mean. Question number two; where did you come from?"

"That's our business," Minho spits out as you stand by his side.

Jorge shrugs, and it's probably a signal because you're all immediately restrained.

Thomas is screaming for them to get off of him as the girl grabs a device, forcing his head down and scanning the back of his neck. "Shut up, you big baby."

The machine beeps. "What is that?" Thomas manages to shove her away, his breathing laboured.

The girl looks at the device and then at Jorge, who puts his glasses on. "You were right," she says.

"Right about what?" You snap, your hands being held behind your back by a guy twice your size as another one pins Quest's head to the floor. "What's she talking about?"

You get out of the man's grip, but that's because they all seem to let you all go- even Quest, who you're quick to grab and force to your side.

You have the urge to protect these guys, and you've survived the Maze on your own- so you don't see these guys as a real threat.

"I'm sorry, hermano," Jorge scoffs, "looks like you're tagged- you came from WCKD. Which means you're very valuable."

And that is how you ended up hanging from a ceiling, your dog in a cage made of chicken wire on the side, and a looming pit of darkness beneath you.

"Good plan, Thomas," Minho's sarcasm echos through the room, "just hear what the man has to say. Really working out for us."

"Shut up, Minho," Thomas groans as you chuckle. "Maybe a can reach the rope."

You watch in some form of second-hand embarrassment as Thomas fails to fold on himself and looks like a poor excuse for a gymnast before giving up.

"Enjoying the view?" Jorge approaches.

"The hell do you want?" Thomas is clearly done with his shit and you can't blame him.

"That is the question," he scoffs. "My men wants to sell you back to WCKD. Life has taught them to think small. I'm not like that. Something tells me that you're not either."

"Is it the blood rushing to my head, or is this shank not making any sense?"

"Minho," you warn him, "Shut up, man."

"Tell me what you know about the Right Arm," Jorge continues like you guys never spoke.

"I thought you said they were ghosts," Newt butts in, earning a glare.

"I happen to believe in ghosts. Especially when I hear them chattering on the airwaves." He moves over to a lever, resting his hand on it. "You tell me what you know, and maybe we can make a deal."

"We- we don't know much," Thomas starts, but he gets little chance to continue when you all drop several feet. "Okay! Okay! Alright! They're hiding in the mountains. And they attacked WCKD. They got out a buncha kids. That's it, that's all we know!"

The man goes to speak, only to be cut off when someone else appears.

"Yo, Jorge, what's going on?"

"Me and my new friends were just getting acquainted- we're done now."

"Hey, wait- you're not gonna help us?" Thomas sounds desperate.

"Don't worry, hermano, we'll get you back to where you belong." He walks away, shouting "hang tight" over his shoulder.

And you're left hanging.

Quite literally.

So, you kind of make a plan- shove Teresa as hard as you collectively can so she can reach the side. Which mainly consists of Minho struggling and you being bumped into.

Though eventually, you manage.

It's a small victory that doesn't last long when you hear a voice over a loud speaker, accompanied by a helicopter. The group seems to recognise this and goes into panic mode.

Through trail and error, you all manage to get pulled to the sides, and this guy monologues in the background. You also get your dog free.

"Okay, let's go! Let's go!" Thomas' favourite phrase as you go to escape, only to be blocked by the guy from before. "We're not tryna cause any trouble, okay? We just gotta get outta here."

"Is that so? Janson, I got 'em for ya, I'll being them down- don't shoot us. Come on, let's go."

You're standing next to Thomas as the man holds a rifle in front of him. You have an idea, and it's dumb but as you look at Thomas, you realise these guys have probably survived on dumb ideas.

"I said, let's go."

You grab the barrel of the gun, a bullet flying out and narrowly missing you as you get into a wresting match. Slamming your head into his nose, there's a cracking noise as he falls backwards.

He gets to his feet relatively quickly, gun still in hand, aiming to kill.

And a gunshot goes off.

But not from him.

He falls to the floor with a thud, the girl from before standing behind him, holding a pistol. All of you stare at her.

"Okay, come on. Come on! Let's go!"

You, once again, take the lead, following the girl through the factory. "Sorry," you mumble, I didn't catch your name."

"Brenda," she says, simply. "You?"

"(Y/N)."

"It's nice to meet you, (Y/N)- you've got fire, kid, I like it."

"Thanks?"

"Your dog's also cute."

"Oh, thanks."

She leads you to Jorge, who has a lot of bags and quickly ushers you all through the building. Shoving a window open, he reveals a zip line.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Frypan mumbles and you have to agree with him.

Jorge gives some words about getting you to the Right Arm but you're too busy worrying about getting Quest on a zip line.

"Follow me!" He shouts, whizzing off to another building.

"Okay, come on!" Brenda shouts, yanking another piece of rope.

"Wait, what about-?"

"I got him," Minho threads his legs though the loop, and then leans down to pick up the dog with a surprising amount of ease. Quest isn't exactly small. He hooks him under one arm and uses the other to hold on as Brenda pushes him forward.

Aris goes next, then you follow.

"Holy shit!" You shout as you cling on for dear life, not having time for the same safety precautions that Minho did with the loop trick.

"I got you!" Minho shouts as you draw closer. "I got you!"

You practically collide into his open arms as he steadies you, letting go of the rope, you throw your arms around him. Squealing slightly and stumbling, you both somehow manage to end up on your feet.

"You okay?" He asks as you pull away, his hands coming to your shoulders.

You swallow. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay- I'm okay."

He nods. "Okay." Your eyes lock for a second, and all you want to do is throw your arms back around him and let him comfort you about this stressful situation.

Quest barks, jumping up on you and distracting you from the boy. Though, you glance at Minho again. "Thank you." You're clearly referring to the dog, who you might actually die without.

"Don't worry about it."

Teresa's screams bring back to reality for a second time. Both you and Minho go to grab her.

"You okay?" You let her grab at you but she doesn't say anything, immediately turning around.

"No," she mumbles.

"What's wrong?" Newt asks, stepping forward after witnessing whatever just happened with you and his best friend.

"Brenda ran off and Thomas went after her-"

"What?" Jorge steps forward. "Shit."

"Uh, guys," Frypan leans out of a different window, pointing down as WCKD's guards swarm the building.

"Shit," Jorge says again before collecting himself. "Okay, we need to go."

"What?" Newt steps in. "We can't just leave them!"

"We have no choice, hermano- Brenda knows her way out."

"We can't leave Thomas," Teresa steps in front of the man, blocking him from moving.

"Brenda will keep him safe, we can't stay here or-"

He's cut off by the sound of a massive explosion. You shield your face as chunks of debris fly through the open window. The building is turned into rubble and flames, smoking billowing into the night sky.

"What did you do?" Teresa shouts, snapping her attention back to Jorge. "What did you do?!"

"They'll be fine- we'll find them in the city. We need to go- now!"

Jorge rushes off, giving you all very little choice but to follow him.

Making your way through the building, the WCKD personnel are too busy dealing with the burning building to even notice you slipping away.

I mean, they still think you're dead so that's probably a good thing.

You keep running for what feels like miles until you end up in the city. It's almost deserted, towering abandoned buildings trap you in and faint chattering beyond what you can see. It's unnerving, but you stay close.

"We have to find Marcus- he's an old friend that used to have connections to the Right Arm. Brenda will be looking for him as well. We find him, we find your friend."

"Wait, Marcus?" You jog to catch up with Jorge. "Thomas told me to find him."

"Thomas told you that? So, he didn't tell me everything."

"No, WCKD took his memories- he told me in a recording, he doesn't remember anything about it."

Jorge stops, raising his eyebrow as he looks at you, before he hums. "Okay, hermano, we'll set up came for the night. There's no point trying to find Marcus now."

You all reluctantly agree, picking a spot under the damaged bridge, you take a breather.

You sit with Quest, leaning against the wall behind you. You tried talking to Teresa, but you didn't get anywhere with that. She's been acting weird, but you can assume that's because Thomas is currently missing with some random girl.

Minho walks over to you, standing in front of you. "How you feeling? You've been quiet."

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" You scoff. "You got knocked out by pure electricity like three hours ago."

"Eh, bit achey, but I'll live." He stretches and you rolls your eyes, but your eyes lock on his exposed mid-drift. Not because it's hot (well, it is but that's not it) but because of the spider web like lines stretching across his lower stomach.

"Uh, Minho?" You blink as he drops his arms again.

"Yeah?"

"Lift your shirt up."

He freezes, blinking at you. It doesn't help that the other boys are within earshot. "What?"

"Just..." You stand up, "just lift your shirt up- I think I'm tripping."

He furrows his brows, but does as he's told.

Exposing his abs, he reveals his chiselled form, but also the pinkish, exposed vein patterns that curl from around his back and come around the edges of his front, some cutting completely across his skin. Which is what you noticed.

"What the shuck?" He mumbles. In a fumble, he dumps his jacket off and yanks his shirt over his head.

He turns around, exposing the larger and more feathered patterns that stretch across his back.

"Holy shit," mindlessly, you move towards him, touching his back and making him jump. "Dude- you've got lightning scars."

Traving your finger down his spine, goosebumps cover his body and his arm hair pricks up.

"I- you, I- what?" He clears his throat. "Lightning scars?" He turns to face you, looking down as he examines his own arms. "Shit."

He looks over at his friends, who are yet to move. Frypan, Newt and Teresa seem more interested in how this pans out than their friend being permanently scarred. Jorge and Aris don't want to be involved.

"They look kinda cool," he looks back up at you, starting to feel flustered under your admiring gaze as you stare at his body.

"I, uh- thanks?" You snort, sitting back down.

Minho puts his shirt back on, but doesn't bother with the jacket. He flops next to you, groaning.

"Well, shuck it- guess that's something I have to deal with now."

"As long as they don't hurt, they're not really a problem though, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

You settle into a comfortable silence, the other's start to go to sleep, but neither of you really make an attempt to. It's smart for someone to stay awake anyway, and you'd rather not do it on your own.

"Okay," Minho clears his throat after a while, finally gaining some courage after thinking about it for so long, "this is gonna sound weird, okay?"

You furrow your brows, but nod. "Okay."

"Okay, so, I uh, I think... I know you." You blankly look at him. "Yeah, I know, I don't get it, but you feel... familiar. I just, I feel like I know you, like we're close, in some way." His head falls into his hands. "The shuck am I even saying?"

"I used to have dreams about you." You state pretty bluntly. "Well, memories, I guess." If you're going to be honest, this might as well be the time. Especially since Minho is being open with you.

"What? What do you mean?"

"We were... friends? I guess. I don't really know. But I'd have these dreams about you, and the others and we'd be in this lab. All of it was pretty mundane and nothing really of note- you were just in pretty much all of them. Half of the time we were just chilling, or playing some game or talking about something." You shrug. "I guess my memory wipe didn't work as well as other people's."

"That's..."

"Weird, right?"

"Yeah," he scoffs, "I didn't even have any memory-dream-things. It's just a feeling. I can't explain it."

Another round of silence settles, and you laugh to yourself, making him give you a puzzled look. "I think I used to have a crush on you."

He blinks at you.

Why the fuck did you say that? Oh, yes, very subtle- like you totally don't still have a weird crush on him.

A grin spreads across his face.

"You had a crush on me?" You face starts to burn.

"Well, I uh, I think so- I mean I could feel things in those dreams- wait, no, not feel things that sounds weird. I just mean I could feel my last self's feelings, so I could feel my own feelings, I guess. That makes no sense, I uh- I'm not weird, I promise."

He barks a laugh, shaking his head. "That's cute."

"Shut up," you playfully shove him.

"Nah, it is." He smiles at you. "So, you still got a thing for me or...?" You shove him again, harder this time.

"Dude, shut up."

"I'm only asking."

"Why do you wanna know?"

"'Cause I do."

You hesitate, feeling your face grow redder. You shrug. "I uh, I don't know- I mean, you're hot, dude. But I don't even know who I am, yanno?"

"Yeah, I get you," he pauses, "so you think I'm hot?"

"Bro," he snorts again.

"Look, I don't think it really matters if we know who we are- but if we know how we feel, then that's as close as I think we're ever gonna get. I mean, we've got this far, right?"

He stares off into the city, internally dealing with these feelings himself.

You shift slightly, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. Minho freezes before turning to look at you. "What was that for?"

"You're right. And thank you, for looking out for me I guess. It's nice not having to be on my own and fend for myself for a change."

A soft smile creeps across his face. "So, you do still have a thing for me, then?"

"Shut up," it comes out as more a mutter than anything else as his hand comes up to your face.

"I'll take that as a yes," his nose brushes against yours. You lean forward, kissing him. It's a sweet kiss and it doesn't last very long.

You pull away, resting your head on his shoulder. For the first time ever, you feel actually kind of content.

"Oi, lovebirds, wake up," Jorge kicks you awake.

You didn't even realise that you'd fallen asleep, but you're both sat upright against the wall, your head still on Minho's shoulder, his head resting on top of yours and Quest sprawled across your outstretched legs.

You groan, your movement stirring Minho awake too.

"We gotta move, hermano, get up." You and Minho exchange glares before you make Quest move, getting up and offering Minho a hand.

You're on the move fairly quickly. You walk with Teresa and Aris, chuckling to yourself as you listen to Frypan and Newt tease Minho about you.

Eventually, you reach a building. It looks like a party that was in full swing about an hour ago, but now half the people are passed out and the other half are slurring their words and looking very lost.

All of you creep into the room, and you spot Brenda, who is trying to wake up an unconscious Thomas.

"Uh, Jorge?" He looks at you, and you vaguely point in the general direction.

Brenda and Jorge reunite and he instructs Brenda to take you all upstairs, Minho, Newt and Frypan having to carry Thomas.

And Jorge said he had to deal with something and would meet you up there.

You, however, did not expect him to return with a beaten up bloodied stranger that he tied to a chair.

Who is Marcus, apparently.

You leave Jorge to deal with that and join Minho and Newt as they watch Teresa caress Thomas' face.

They exchange glances. "How romantic," Minho whispers, sending Newt into a fit of repressed giggles. You elbow him. "What?" He grins at you.

"Don't be dick."

"What? It is romantic." You give him a deadpan expression. "You don't want me to gently stroke your face?"

"Try it and I will bite you."

"Please don't."

"Hey, hey, you're okay," Teresa says, bringing your attention back to Thomas as he rises up, groaning. "Hi," she smiles, "we have to stop meeting like this."

And suddenly you understand why they were making fun of her.

Minho walks over, leaning over Teresa. "Welcome back, you ugly shank."

Thomas gets up, processing the scene in front of him as he joins you and Newt. "Looks like you've been having fun," the blond boy says.

You walk over to Minho, taking no interest in the violence and honestly being pleased you don't have to deal with this on your own- like the original plan when you escaped.

Minho casually puts his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Apparently, he has no problem with PDA. "You really think this guy knows where the Right Arm is?" He asks you and you shrug.

"It's not like we have any other option, really."

He hums in response. "I guess."

You all cringe as you watch Jorge give Marcus a piece of his mind, resulting in him kicking the man in the chest, sending him flying and stealing his car keys.

So, you ended up in some random man's career driving into the mountains. You, Minho and Frypan got into a massive fight about riding shot gun, so much so that you missed Newt taking the seat before any of you got the chance.

So, obviously you then got into an argument about who got to sit next to the window.

Minho won.

And you ended up sitting between him and Aris, with Thomas, Teresa and Brenda in the very back. Which seemed very awkward and you felt bad for Frypan- who also ended up there.

Quest decided to sit on Minho so he could stick his head out of the window. Minho regretted his decision pretty quick after that.

You were thriving, however.

The drive is surprisingly peaceful, and it gives you the opportunity to talk to Aris more.

Though, when the car slows down due to a pile of vehicles in the road, none of you really have to say anything when you get out. Silently walking through the graveyard of transport, it becomes apparent that driving anywhere past this point is unlikely.

Then the gun shots start.

You dive behind a car with Minho and Newt as the group lets out numerous shouts along the lines of "get down" and "take cover".

"Does anyone know where those bloody shots came from?" Newt shouts once it's confirmed you're all okay.

"You okay?" Minho asks you, his voice low as he pets Quest. You nod in response as he take your hand into his.

Another round of gunfire.

"Everybody! Get set to run back to the truck! And cover your ears!" Jorge shouts, making the three of you look at each other. Well, that can't be good.

Two girls appear, forcing Thomas to drop whatever weapon he has and making you all get to your feet, shouting demands at you.

That's until they recognise Aris. You lean the girls are called Harriet and Sonya, and they have a nice reunion that leaves you all confused.

It's been a weird few days.

"Uh.. what's happening?" Minho asks for you all.

"We were in the Maze together," Aris explains.

Harriet whistles before shouting. "We're clear, guys! Come on out!"

People start to appear at the mountain tops, and before you know it, you're following these two girls through the mountains.

You get into another set of cars as they take you to the Right Arm base, which is a pretty big camp.

Harriet and Sonya give you all a run down of what's going on here- which is when you meet Vince.

He seems skeptical at first, which gets ten times worse when Brenda collapses and he threatens to shoot her. Though, a lady comes through revealing that Thomas actually released the location of all WCKD locations to the Right Arm.

So, she takes Thomas and Brenda away to give her a Flare buffer.

You stick with the boys, since you don't know anyone else, and end up chilling with them on a hill. Teresa vanishes and Aris goes to catch up with Harriet and Sonya.

"So," Frypan clears his throat as you sit on the ground, playing with Quest as he tries to get a stick you've found, "are you two like... together?"

Both you and Minho pause, looking at each other. And then, in sync, you both shrug, which then causes a wave of laughter.

"Do you wanna be together? We didn't exactly have that conversation," he asks you.

"Sure," you says simply.

"Cool," he turns to Frypan and grins, "I've got a shuckin' girlfriend."

Newt snorts. "We've been out of the Glade for a couple of days and you've bagged a girl?"

"What can I say? I'm just smooth."

"You're full of shit, Minho," you say, making the boys laugh.

"What? I am smooth."

"You almost had a panic attack when I touched your back."

The Gladers lose it. They're literally crying laughing as Minho desperately tries to defend himself.

The conversation progresses naturally, and it's moments like these that you wish you could've had in the Maze. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad then.

After a bit, Thomas finds you.

"I wish Alby could've seen all this," Newt says, having a sentimental moment.

"And Winston," Frypan adds.

"And Chuck." Thomas says as he looks down at a small wooden figure.

"He'd be proud of you, yanno, Tommy," Newt gives his friend a reassuring smile.

Frypan shouts Aris, who waves back, making you smile. "I kinda like that kid."

"Yeah," Minho says sarcastically, "still don't trust him though." You playfully shove him before he throws an arm over your shoulder, making Thomas and Newt smirk at each other.

It isn't every day they get to see Minho actually happy.

Thomas goes off to find Teresa, leaving you all to your own company once again as darkness starts to fall.

That's when it goes wrong.

You watch as Quest's ear perk up, making you look into the sky as you hear the buzzing of helicopters.

"Uh, guys," you stand up, the boys doing the same as one of them flies towards camp.

"(Y/N)! Get down!" Minho dives into you as a missile strikes the camp, sending fire and debris everywhere.

You scramble back to your feet. Watching the suffering and chaos unfolding, your legs move beneath you- these people need help.

"(Y/N)- shit!" Minho and the others follow you, running down the hill and joining Vince as he shoots from a machine gun.

You send Quest away, you trained him in the Maze to hide if needed- and if you don't get out of this, he could probably survive for months on the food left.

He passes Minho a gun, who is actually surprisingly capable of using it. Harriet also gives you a weapon, and you start shooting, too.

"Nice shot, babe."

"We are not going to be one of those couples that calls each other babe."

"Noted."

"Look out!" Newt shouts before a granade goes off, electricity completely paralysing you.

You're rounded up in the centre like cattle, forced on your knees in a line as a guard scans people's necks.

"A5, A6, A7," he scans your neck, pausing. "Uh, Sir?"

"What?" The silver haired man, who you're assuming is Janson, responds.

"This just says... X?"

Janson looks at the guard before his gaze falls to you.

"Well, (Y/N), aren't you meant to be dead?"

"Bet you'd like that, eh?" He grimaces.

The guard confirms that they'd rounded up pretty much everyone, and then Janson asks the question. "Where's Thomas?"

"Right here."

Thomas approaches with his arms up, and is swiftly punched in the stomach and forced to join the rest of you.

"Why didn't you run?" Minho asks him as you sit between the boys.

"I'm tired of running."

You watch as a Berg flies over head, its bright lights blinding you as it comes to land. The doors open, revealing a group of guards and Ava Paige.

She stops to talk to Janson, and then they start forcing people onto the Berg.

She comes to talk to Thomas, and then Teresa joins her side.

"What the hell?" Frypan says. "Teresa?"

"Wait, what's going on?" Newt asks.

"She's with them," Thomas explains bluntly, his voice full of pain as Minho looks at you.

You swallow. The boys would've never found you if Teresa hadn't have gone out of her way to save you.

"Since when?" Minho asks.

"Oh," Janson butts in, "Teresa's always had an evolved appreciation of the greater good. Since we restored her memories, it was only a matter of time."

"I'm sorry," she says, "I has no choice. This is the only way- we have to find a cure."

"She's right. This is all just a means to an end. You used to understand that, Thomas. No matter what you think of me, I am not a monster; I'm a doctor I swore an oath to find a cure. No matter the cost. I just need more time."

"More blood," the woman from before says from behind you.

"Hello, Mary," Ava greets her, "I hoped we'd meet again. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances."

"I'm sorry about a lot of things, too- but not this. At least my conscience is clear."

"So is mine."

A gunshot rings out as a bullet flies into Mary, leaving Vince screaming and grasping at her. Ava commands that people move as Janson puts his gun away.

Then Thomas elbows a guard in the face and pulls out a bomb.

Everyone goes into panic mode, with Teresa begging him to stop. "Thomas, please stop. I made a deal with them, they promised we'd be safe. All of us."

"And I'm supposed to trust you now?"

"It's true- it was her only condition." Ava interjects. She continues to try and convince him, with Janson even joining in.

But you'd rather die here than go with them. Moving towards the boy, the others follow.

"We're with you, Thomas," Newt says.

"Do it, Thomas," Minho says as he slips his fingers between yours.

"We're ready," Frypan agrees and Thomas looks at you.

You nod.

"We're not going back there, it's the only way."

Ava screams Thomas' name as he goes to press the trigger, only the be stopped by a loud beeping noise.

A truck slams into the side of one of the helicopters, sending debris flying as you all dive to the floor.

In the truck, Quest is with Jorge. So, two treats for Quest for getting help again, I guess.

A guard goes to attack Thomas and he lets off the explosive, diving to safety before getting knocked by Janson.

Who is promptly shot down by Brenda.

You all scramble, Minho finding a gun as you retreat to safety. Hiding behind a box, Minho stands guard.

And then he's shot. The shock of the Launcher leaves him defenseless.

"Minho!" You scream, both you and Thomas trying to get to the boy as he's dragged away, whilst the Gladers try and hold you back and keep you safe.

You're dragged backwards, watching them as they take Minho with them and the doors of the Berg closing, with him inside.

Gone.

The real damage is shown when morning comes.

The camp is destroyed and Vince makes plans to move you all to the Safe Haven.

You sit with Quest, listening in.

"I'm not going with you," you state.

"What?" Vince asks you.

"I'm going to find Minho- I've dealt with worse shit on my own. I'm going after him."

"She's right," Thomas nods at you. "I made a promise to Minho that I wouldn't leave him behind, I'm going after him, too."

The others try and talk you down, but it doesn't work, Jorge saying it's like suicide.

But Thomas has he mind made up, and so do you.

You're going to get him, even if it's on your own.

Bro omg this took so long. Ik the pacing is probably completely wack, but there were scenes that writing them fully out would take up even more space and my tumblr is already bugging out over this.

Part three should be out at some point soon, but we shall see if I stick to that.

I hope you kind of enjoyed lmao :)

#🌿 petri tmr minho #🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes tmr #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #tmr imagines #minho tmr x reader #minho maze runner #the maze runner

[applepies-and-starlight]

Was Ishmael always your favorite from day one, or did Canto 5 swing things in her direction?

So, she wasn't like, my favorite favorite day 1, but I did have a higher opinion of her compared to the rest of the cast (barring Ryoshu and Sinclair as food name oomf was making propaganda about them like a madman), her initial demeanor also gained her extra points because I generally gravitate towards characters that Actually Respect The MC/PC i won't say no to unhinged characters can we at least pretend to be civil during work hours and not treat me like a dog? It makes me sad :(

And then Canto V dropped.

Normally, this wouldn't be. That Big of a deal, if it was in literally any other position I'd just go "oh cool, so that's what happened" and moved on.

Problem: there was probably at least 20 different sleeper agents in my brain. And all of them involved Azur Lane

(Context for confused LCB moots: Azur Lane is Arknights' weirder, hornier cousin set somewhere in a WW2-adjacent period where all of your units are warships given human form known as Shipgirls (official term: KAN-SEN) and you fight against a robotic menace known as the Sirens)

(Editing Apple: putting this under cut because... oh lird. It's long.)

I had this like, entire ramble I wanted to go off on but at some point I didn't know where to take it lmao, but the basic idea is the following:

I got into Azur Lane last year because of spite and (eldritch-ish) pirates (Hello Royal Fortune!)

Got dragged into lore rabbit hole

Got convinced to read eldritch apocalypse fanfiction of Azur Lane (Whispers of Saturn)

Loved the fanfic a lot, started making Pirate shipgirl ocs based off the fic's concept (eldritch creachurr)

First iteration of Whaleship Essex created; whale-like mermaid-siren figure who has albinism and is a little Too trigger happy with whale murder

Made her look like Ishmael LCB because haha funny reference

Devs went fuckshit crazy with the anniversary event; Marco Polo was raining the wrath of God (who, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, was a false god), the god in question was fucking up the world with a weird white membrane (which, now that I think about it, kinda acted like pallidification), the french were getting back together, everything is great

I try to add the false god(s) into the lore timeline of my Azur Lane shit, cue updates happening to Whaleship Essex where she's the only survivor of her group and knows that someone else also survived but blames them for not being able to Do Something about it

New Pirate event happens

Devs stole 2 of my OCs and made them canon (hi, Hind; hi, Galley) and they also happen to be close to Whaleship Essex while they were my OCs

I work around what the Devs have given me and decide that they're in a state of kinda died-but-not-really (long story)

(Note that I came up with all this oc stuff around like. November or something.)

Overall my hype for The Sea™ and eldritch horrors have reached an all time high

Canto V releases; I learn about it while trying to make a Limbus AU for Murder Drones

I decide to check it out because. Water.

Doomed sailor yuri

"Holy fucking shit did I just predict Canto V with my OC that's completely unrelated in every way except for the fact that she looks A Lot like Ishmael???? What?????"

Present time; I have been stuck in the Limbus hole ever since (and apparently my brain has delusionally stuck itself onto our favorite ginger sailor so uh. hi fellow ishmael irls!)

Sooooo... yeah

Basically we wouldn't be here if the stars didn't align at Halloween 2022 and Manjuu + Yostar gave the AL fans someone who isn't a pirate

#apple asks #rambles #limbus company #fun fact: i nickname royal fortune as ruby #this is because there's like. 3 different fortunes ingame + one of my ocs is called good fortune (nick: cerise) #post-edit apple: #oh good lird this is long #yeah my brain. is unhealthily attached to al. #fun.

[streaminn]

I caught you JDWicked :)

"Why can't you just accept that people care for you? Is it so hard to think maybe someone could look at you and go "Oh! Maybe they shouldn't fucking die!"?"

"I can take care of myself. I don't need you to care for me."

Helios is taken aback at that. How dare she? She can't stop from yelling.

"DID YOU EVER CONSIDER MAYBE I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF YOU?! THAT I WANT TO? I WATCHED THE HYDRA PUT A HOLE IN YOU AND I- I- I'M SUPPOSED TO JUST NOT CARE? I'M SUPPOSED TO JUST IGNORE YOU WALKING AROUND WITH A GAPING WOUND AND ACT LIKE IT'S ALL FINE AND DANDY AND NOT THE SCARIEST THING I'VE EVER FUCKING SEEN?"

"Don't act like you care, Helios. We both know we just wanted to have a good story for your mother. "The big bad wolf finally coming out?" A perfect story to get her respect." The cool tone might've calmed her down at a different time.

A different place.

A different life.

Helios' muscles feel like someone dropped a lit match into a barrel of gunpower. She can feel the starts of steam just before the first sparks ignites.

And she ignites.

"HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!"

She's screaming now. She can feel her voice carry and deflect from the trees and earth and air. She can feel her voice rattle her bones.

She hopes Viper's bones rattle too.

"HOW DARE YOU FUCKING SIT THERE AND ACT ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY AND ALONE? YOU WOULDN'T KNOW ALONE IF IT THREW YOU INTO A DARK CLOSET AND BEAT YOU FOR SPEAKING OUT OF TURN-"

"What-" Viper starts but Helios isn't listening now. She's mad and her anger thrums under her skin like magma.

Her body is a gas filled coal-mine. And Viper is a moronic canary flying in while set ablaze.

"-NO. YOU HAVE HAD THE CHANCE TO TALK, AND TALK, AND TALK, AND I AM DONE. IT'S YOUR TURN TO FUCKING LISTEN. I HAVE WATCHED YOU RUN INTO FIRES AND DANGER AND MONSTERS- I HAVE WATCHED YOU COME BACK TO THE DORMS WITH A FUCKING KNIFE IN YOUR GUT. I-"

She can feel tears push on the back of her eyes. She hates that she sounds caring.

She hates that she is.

"-I FUCKING DARE TO CARE THE SLIGHTEST OUNCE FOR YOU AND WHAT HAPPENS?! YOU TELL ME TO FUCK OFF! TELL ME THAT I'M BEING ANNOYING- BECAUSE HOW COULD I EVER DECIDE TO HAVE SOME FUCKING EMPATHY FOR ANOTHER PERSON?! IS THAT IT? YOU THINK YOU'RE ABOVE EMPATHY?!"

"I-"

"GUESS FUCKING WHAT? YOU AREN'T. YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU- YOU THINK YOU'RE ABOVE YOUR HUMANITY AND FOR FUCKING WHAT? WHAT'S IT ALL FOR?!"

She turns and slams a fist into the tree closest to her. The bark and core collapses under her swing.

She turns back to Viper. She can feel her bones shake from her rage. If she didn't love the shorter woman, she'd be strangling her.

"WHAT IS IT ALL. FUCKING. FOR?!"

"I'M TRYING TO KEEP YOU SAFE, IMBECILE!"

For a brief, brief moment, the world stands still. There's no forest-fire raging, pushing ever closer to them. No monster just beyond the edge of the forest that they can hear the feel the attacks of, even so far into the forest as they are. There's no haunting sense of fleeting time.

They're just 2 scared girls in the woods. 2 scared girls who care for each other, but only one can say it.

And it's here, in their little fragment of frozen time, that 2 scared girls embrace.

Maybe embrace is too graceful a word. It's more of honey and poisoned-glue being smacked together and trapping one another.

They barely have time for frantic "I love you"s and a wild plea for the other to stay safe before they part ways.

Viper to the flames.

Helios to the monster.

Their efforts will be enough to win.

They have to be.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"C-cut!" Comes the shaky call, as the blare of the "End Scene Alarm" rings in the studio.

"Holy shit, are y'all alright? That got so fucking intense."

"I-" Bianca's actress has tears falling down her face in waves. Sin wonders if a siren's body has enough water to cry that much. "Fuck."

"Yeah, I-" Tyler's actor barely speaks through his sobs. "I can't fucking be on this set, I did to go breathe and calm down and not be here for the reshoot, I-" Bianca's actress takes his hand, crying just as hard- harder, maybe- and leads them both off set.

"It.. wasn't that bad? I think you guys got a lil' too invested in it. And yet, we're the actresses." Sin gestures to herself, then Wednesday.

Wednesday says nothing.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yoko piped up. Sin's only seen her cry when she thought her and Divina had broken up, and yet she's bawling. Sin bear-hugs her, and picks her up.

She grips tightly.

"That's my wife." Wednesday grumbles. She begins walking to her and Sin's little trailer-breakroom. "Do you want tea?"

Sin swings herself and Yoko around to face Wednesday.

"Yes please!"

"Everyo-everyone take 5! or- maybe 10! Jus-just take a break. fuck. I need to go cry."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ya think we over did it? Everyone seemed really upset- Thing stilled hasn't gotten over it!" Enid points at the shaking hand, holding onto the box that held Enid and Wednesday's wedding rings.

"They'll be fine. I think it a compliment- my writing-"

"And our acting."

"-Moved them to tears." Wednesday takes a powdered donut and eats it.

She wipes her sugared fingers on Enid's black sweatpants.

"Hey!"

Wednesday smirks, then takes a drink of her coffee.

"Relax, we'll just tell everyone that it's coke. They'll be understanding."

Enid slaps her arm in scorn.

"Wednesday!"

Wednesday rolls her eyes, then takes Enid's hand.

Kisses it.

"No." Enid reels her arm back in. "No kissies for coke-fiend rumor-spreading girlfriends!"

Wednesday's eyes get glassy. Wet. Enid knows the aren't fully black; they're a very dark brown.

"Wha-"

"No rumors or no kissies!"

Wednesday's eyes get wetter, bigger. Enid wonders if she has any werewolf in her because that's a very good set of puppydog eyes.

"Forever?" She asks, voicing breaking. She looks like she's about to cry.

"What? No, Willa it's just a joke."

"You promise?" Her voice wobbles.

"Yes, yes I promise Babycakes, I promise. I couldn't live without your kissies. Is jus'a joke."

"Not very funny."

Enid sighs and rubs Wednesday's back, soothing circles. She kisses the top of her head.

"Yeah, I got that from you almost fucking crying."

There's a bang on their door, and Enid almost breaks her wife's spine when she flinches and hugs her closer instinctively.

"You're on in 15- and, for the love of god, warn us before you decided to give it your all and make everyone cry. Miss Tanaka still hasn't stopped crying."

Enid rolls her eyes now, takes Wednesday by the arms and kisses her.

"They think that was our best? I pity them."

"We got 15 minutes." Enid stands them both, dramatically steps back, then offer her hand.

"May I have this dance?"

Wednesday crosses her arms, then stares at Enid's hand.

"Remind me why we're married?" She takes the werewolf's hand, setting them into a position to start dancing.

Enid spins them slowly, smoothly. Wednesday taught her to slow dance.

"I'm cute, taller than you and can put up with your bullshit?"

Wednesday scoffs, let's Enid push her out then reel her back in spinning.

She pushes herself to the bulky wall of Enid's body.

"I don't know about cute. I'd say more... seductive. Painfully charming. Impossible to ignore and overlook."

"Careful," Enid whispers into Wednesday's shoulder. She kisses it. Scrapes it with her teeth. "We've only got 9 minutes left."

-Writer Anon. (also Yoko was there for emotional support and free food. She ended up needing the emotional support.)

Omygod writer anon really be coming in for the clutch, thank you again for the really good content

I'll prob shift the Viper books from being rather accurate to what happened in their nevermore years to being inspired and based on it. There's alot of similarities if you knew the source material and the book

It also helps give freedom in writing these types of things 💀

if it helps lycoan curse is where Enid low key skips another semester due to outside reasons. She's taken to smth akin to a camp so she can be tested by these elder wolves (If yknow then yknow) bc her status as a grimwolf has been exposed due to the rumors from sophomore year and they need to know if she's with them or against them

#streamer enid au #Writing #Wenclair #Writer anon

[just-prime]

Just read all your Ahsoka reviews, they're great, thanks for writing them

I think the reason Thrawn's eyes look off is the same why as Ahsoka's, Hera's, Ezra's, just anyone with the weird contact thing going on, all do. In real life you can't actually clearly make out someone's eye color from like across a room distance, but they've given this always noticeable almost florescent glow to the eyes. You can do that fine in animation but in live action it becomes uncanny valley

Very much agreed that the worst thing is the feeling of nothing happening. The show isn't paced to stand on its, it's meant to exist as part of the filoni cinematic universe. The mcu-ification of media is a f-ing plague upon the soul of art

And speaking of nothing happening WHAT IS SABINE DOING like she knows she's got a very short time to somehow steal the hyperspace ring so they can get back and stop Thrawn from returning, but she's just like nah I'll just tell Ezra nothing and chill out with him I AM PULLING MY HAIR OUT

Also just a last thing that was (painfully) funny to me that I haven't seen anyone else point out, at one point Sabine slashes a guy in the face then stabs him in the chest, then STILL kicks him away from her which is what actually knocks him over, BECAUSE LIGHTSABERS CAN! NOT! KILL IN THE NEW STAR WARS

Sorry I started out thanking you for your great posts, but then ended up just ranting in your inbox, totally no worries if you just want to completely ignore this ask lol

First off holy shit I have my first ask!!! I was in class when I saw the notification, so I couldn't get up and do a little happy dance...But know that I wanted to.

Anyway, YES on everything about the eyes. That's exactly it. You've managed to put words to what felt off perfectly. SO thank you, because yes, to all of it.

Also, yes, the mcu-ification of media is indeed a FUCKING plague upon the soul of art

I say this as a recovering MCU fan who's coping with the death of her childhood via fanfiction but seriously not everything needs to be set up for something else.

Also, it feels like this should have been a movie. 2 hours, maybe even 3, but then everyone would be in position and we wouldn't have to deal with all the stupid filler.

Yup, Sabine is horrifically out of character. She's nonchalant about things she should care about. She cares about thinks she should be nonchalant about. It's painful, and annoying, and I can relate to wanting to pull my hair out.

It is laughable to me that we've gotten this far and lightsabers are still functionally just swords? Like, we've not gotten to see someone doing something cool with them in a while. I totally agree also that they've been watered down, which is a shame because we're finally getting to the point effects-wise where we could be doing some really cool shit with them, and instead they are left as poke-y sticks.

Thank you so much for dropping into my ask box. Thank you especially for the rant. It was very fun to read. If it helps assuage the anxiety, know that not too long ago I was the on leaving anonymous blocks of text thanking people for the validation and also ranting a bit too :P

#rambles #dave filoni critical #ahsoka critical #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka series #star wars #prime responds #anti filoni

[joyful-soul-collector]

Watching Oscar Isaac Movies: Triple Frontier

I wanted to watch a bunch of the movies Oscar Isaac is in because I love him and nobody is around to stop me. And I'm taking you all along for the ride. Lemme know if there's a movie with him you want me to watch

Oh my god Oscar speaking Spanish is--mmmm is it hot in here???

Ayyy it's Pedro Pascal! I don't know a lot about him but I know him and Oscar are friends haha

Holy shit this guy's house is literally made of money

Where are they getting all these duffel bags

GUYS YOU DO NOT NEED THIS MUCH MONEY HOW MUCH ARE YOU PLANNING TO SPEND

oh shit he ded

6000 POUNDS OF MONEY?

Guys just leave some of the money man idk how to tell you this but that is more than you're ever going to be able to spend in your lives

"she'll make it" SUBTLE foreshadowing there mhm

How does one fall asleep on the loudest vehicle in existence

IT'S ALMOST LIKE SOMEONE TOLD YOU THE HELICOPTER COULDN'T HANDLE THIS MUCH

Why didn't they just dump off more money.

WHY DID THEY TAKE SO MUCH MONEY IN THE FIRST PLACE.

THIS IS ALL JUST ONE COMPLETELY PREVENTABLE TRAIN WRECK AFTER ANOTHER

"hi sorry I know you're all very poor and would benefit greatly from money just dropping out of the sky but that Ours Actually, yeah we killed people for it"

This guy is fuckin insane, first he makes them take more money resulting in more people dying and now he just fuckin shot up these villagers. Yeah no I've lost any and all sympathy for this guy lol

"sorry we destroyed a bunch of your crops, shot up a few of your people, and took your mules, have half of one of the FIFTY FUCKING DUFFEL BAGS OF MONEY WE HAVE"

Again where the fuck did they get all those duffel bags

Be free, mules

Love the lack of like. Survival problems going on lol. Are they out of food? Who knows, never seen em eating onscreen. Water? Nah they're probably fine. One of these guys got shot like a day ago and he's just like. Fine. Altitude sickness? Never heard of her. Is it cold? Yeah but it's fine CUZ WE'RE JUST GONNA BURN MONEY NOW THAT'S FINE

Oh shit they're gettin shot at now

OOP HE DED HE IS. FULLY DEAD

Good on that kid for getting revenge. I feel zero sadness over this guy's death. Sucks for his kid but oh well

Oh are we just. Over the mountains now. You're telling me it only took them 5 days to climb up and over these mountains

"what if we went at night" "nah we'd never make it" WHAT DOES THAT MEAN. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'D NEVER MAKE IT. JUST GET A CAR.

WHY ARE YOU THROWING AWAY THIS MONEY. GUYS JUST GET A CAR. YOU DON'T HAVE TO DRAG IT ALL THE WAY THERE JUST STEAL CARS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

Oh NOW you find a car

Car chase car chase

5 million isn't bad, now if yall had just grabbed that much in the first place instead of 6000 FUCKIN POUNDS none of this would've happened

WHY ARE YOU GIVING IT ALL TO THE GUY WHO FUCKED EVERYTHING UP AND GOT HIMSELF KILLED IN THE FIRST PLACE

okay movie over and let me say #1 Pope did nothing wrong ever in his life. Everything that went wrong was Dead Guy's fault (I don't know any of their names except Santiago lol). #2 Yes I'm woobifying Pope slightly but literally the guy just wanted to make sure his friends would have enough money to get the life they wanted. Dead Guy just made everything worse at every turn. #3 no I am not taking criticism at this time

Anyway overall? Meh movie. Oscar was good, everyone else performed well too. Not a very satisfying plot or anything, didn't do anything new or interesting. Really wish we got to know more about Pope's backstory? I like his strong sense of justice, I wish I knew where it came from

Also wish I knew where all those FUCKIN DUFFEL BAGS CAME FROM

#oscar isaac #pedro pascal #triple frontier #technically I typed this out AFTER the movie #cuz both my phone and computer were dead at the time #but for the rest of the movies I'll be typing it out as I watch #marko reacts

[eternalreignblog]

Can we get a part 2 of gym fuck buddies Clarke and Lexa? Your smut was so 🥵

Part 1

So, Locker Room AU seems to be quite popular. Let's check in on our girls and see how they're doing.

Clarke had been walking around with a constant semi after her encounter with her gym crush, Lexa. She had been content to admire the smoking hot brunette from a distance, eye fucking her at every opportunity while she completed her workouts.

She thought it was a one-sided affair, that the attraction was only on her side, right up until that night when the little vixen practically forced Clarke to fuck her in the locker room after she twerked her ass at her on the gym floor.

Much to Clarke's dismay, she hadn't run into Lexa again since they'd had sex. The other problem was that Clarke couldn't seem to shake the memories from her mind, constantly having flashbacks to when she was buried balls deep, hips smalling into the hot brunette's well-sculpted ass.

Slamming the dumbbells down after finishing her last set, Clarke groaned, quickly re-racking the weights and making her way to the locker room. Her traitorous thoughts had manifested in her cock bulging in her gym shorts, workout doing nothing to calm her raging hormones.

Slipping into the showers before anyone noticed her predicament, Clarke turned the stream of water to a comfortable temperature and resigned herself to using her hand to solve her problem yet again.

Closing her eyes, Clarke pictured Lexa on her knees, massaging her breast as she took Clarke into her mouth. The image of those lips closing around her cock had Clarke biting down on her fist to mask a moan - and had the added effect of her not noticing the shower curtain flipping open and a second person joining her in the small cubicle.

"What are you thinking about?" Clarke jumped, nearly slipping on the wet tiles as the voice scared the shit out of her.

Heart racing, it took her a few seconds to come back down to earth and realize that she was not alone, that Lexa had joined her in the shower and was standing very close, biting her lip in the sexiest way with her eyes locked on Clarke's cock.

"Holy fuck, you scared the shit out of me," Clarke said, a little breathless from the shock.

"Sorry," Lexa smirked, clearly not sorry at all, "I saw you come in here, and you looked like you needed a hand," She said, eyes traveling unabashedly back down Clarke's naked body to her dick.

Now almost recovered from the fright, and a little annoyed her 'Clarke Time' had been interrupted, Clarke decided to take full advantage.

"Maybe I do need a hand," She said, looking at Lexa through hooded eyes as she took hold of her cock and started stroking it, watching in delight as Lexa all but drooled at the sight. "Why don't you take your clothes off and join me, pretty girl," Clarke said, and Lexa wasted no time doing exactly that.

Joining her under the steady flow of water, Lexa leaned in and kissed Clarke, running her tongue along her bottom lip and practically devouring her as their naked bodies pressed together.

Breaking apart, Lexa slip her hand down and started to stroke Clarke, looking into her eyes as she slowly pumped her cock.

"So tell me, what were you picturing before you were rudely interrupted?" Lexa said salaciously, eyelids fluttering and licking her lips provocatively.

"Your lips," Clarke said, kissing Lexa again before withdrawing and smirking at the other woman, "your lips on my cock,"

"Hmmm, really now?" Lexa was grinning, still stroking as she teased Clarke.

"Yeah, your lips were stretching around me as you took my cock down your throat like a good little slut," she said, pulling Lexa's hips to hers and letting her cock press up against Lexa's abdomen. "so why don't you get on your knees, and apologize for interrupting me?"

Lexa moaned before dropping down to her knees, eye level with Clarke's shaft.

Clarke's knees almost went weak at the sight of her fantasy coming true, Lexa's lips pressing forward and opening wide to take the tip of her cock inside, tongue flicking out to run around the head before her mouth descended over her meat.

"Fuck, baby, just like that," she said, still trying to keep her voice relatively quiet. Slipping her hand into Lexa's hair, Clarke started to guide her mouth along the shaft, going deeper with every thrust as Lexa warmed up to the blow job.

Clarke could feel the vibrations on her cock every time Lexa moaned, and watched with a fresh wave of arousal as Lexa took her hands off Clarke's cock, sliding one onto her breast, squeezing and pinching her nipple, and the other between her legs to rub her clit.

Using only her mouth on Clarke's cock, Lexa let Clarke take over the pace, fucking into her mouth as Lexa touched herself.

"You like sucking dick? You're getting off while I fuck your face?" Clarke taunted as she picked up the pace feeling extra vibrations as Lexa got Closer to her own climax.

"Ugh," Clarke grunted, holding Lexa's head still as she trust, "gonna cum, get ready for it," she murmured, looking down at her cock disappearing into the welcoming throat over and over.

Feeling the oh-so-familiar tingle in her balls and the base of her spine, Clarke's hips stuttered and she let out an absolutely filthy moan as she filled Lexa's mouth with her cum.

She kept cumming, rope after rope shot onto the waiting tongue, Lexa kneeling obediently, accepting everything Clarke had to give.

Eventually, Clarke had seemingly emptied her balls, cum dripping down Lexa's chin as it overflowed her mouth. reaching down, Clarke helped scoop it back into Lexa's mouth so she could swallow it all, watching as she licked her fingers almost thankfully when she was done.

Taking a moment to catch her breath after the intense orgasm, Clarke held out a hand to help Lexa to her feet.

"Did you cum?" Clarke asked, a little bit pleased when Lexa shook her head. Clarke grinned before dropping to her knees, listening to Lexa gasp as she lifted one of the brunette's legs over her shoulder, giving her easy access Lexa's pussy.

Clarke wasted no time before diving in, licking from her opening all the way up to her clit, stopping to lavish attention on the small bud and feeling Lexa's knees go weak, weight now supported over Clarke's shoulder.

Smiling into Lexa's snatch, Clarke knew this would be quick, sliding two fingers into Lexa's soaked cunt, she started pumping in time with her tongue flicking her clit.

Curling her fingers to massage her front wall, Clarke could feel Lexa contracting around her, so close to her peak.

Going in for the finish, Clarke combined her finger movements with closing her lips around Lexa's clit and sucking, Lexa's head falling back into the shower wall as she came, cunt squeezing Clarke's fingers as the pleasure flowed through her.

Clarke was glad they were in the shower, as she was pretty sure Lexa would have made quite a mess with how hard she just came.

coaxing Lexa through her orgasm, Clarke slowed her movements until Lexa pushed her lightly away, too sensitive for more.

Rising back up, Clarke shot Lexa a look of smug satisfaction as she pulled her in for a kiss.

Exhausted, they rinsed each other off before wrapping up in towels and exiting the shower, post-nut complacency making them forget for a moment that they were in public.

The locker room was empty save for one lady, who looked in her seventies, who promptly stood up from the bench, gave Clarke a wink before gathering her gear and leaving them alone.

Turning to each other, they exchanged a look before bursting out laughing and falling into a hug.

"Maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private next time," Clarke said in an amused tone.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Lexa agreed, tossing Clarke her clothes before slipping on her own.

Clarke eyed Lexa's ass as she did up her shoelaces, thinking of all the things she could do with a little more privacy.

#ask #anon #locker room au #prompt #clexa

[lemonylepid]

Having a billion dollars is just... Unimaginable. Like, I could, immediately, buy my dream 2 story lake house, a car, furniture for the house and moving fees, driving lessons, therapy for a year, medication, all the food I need to fill my cabinets, and then I'm left with what, still roughly a billion dollars??? Like does money mean anything at that point??? Then I guess I can go on a more aggressive spending spree...

So that's a food truck, paying for the wages of workers, the rights for my food, business paperwork... Okay I just started a small business. Fuck that's only getting me more money, and I still haven't made a dent. Um uhh I buy a boat, a small one because I just need it for my backyard lake. Alright okay. Umm how about a cat patio? Alright that costs literally nothing now what. Make my house fully wheelchair accessible. Pennies in comparison to what I have.

I need to go bigger this is ridiculous.

A local homeless shelter with free and comfortable rooms, clean water, mental health programs and attached free-access food bank? Okay cool that actually made a dent how many more of these can I make.. Holy shit how many?? I can scatter these to cities with major poverty levels and not break a sweat. I've made a minor dent in my single billion dollars and the cool 2 million I put in the bank has an interest rate that can keep me alive for a lifetime so I can literally drain my billion dollars all I want.

Several food locations based on the food truck I made a few weeks ago. Still have money. Filling those food banks I funded to the brim, still have money. Get married. Still have money. Take a honeymoon to Denmark to see the lego museum. Still have money. Get bottom surgery. Still have money. Give a cool million dollars to each of my close friends and family. I still have money. Find clean water and food solutions for impoverished countries? I probably still have money. I've paid all of this in cash and up front. I literally don't understand.

I have no instinct to keep a billion dollars, let alone 44 billion or 100 billion. I don't comprehend why you want to save it up. You can literally live a beautiful, loving and perfect life for a drop of it, and save billions of people with the rest. Live your dreams, conquer your hindrances, help everyone you know. I literally can't understand saving it. Especially when you've created a successful company and *you're just getting more.*

People who have this much money, and don't do any of this with it, are absolutely without a doubt evil. Billionaires are not your friend, and I have no idea why you'd think otherwise unless they're legitimately, tangibly helping people as fast as possible with as much money as possible.

#unlimited money #Money #complaining #dream scenario #billionaire #How do you cope with doing absolutely nothing with your money #I literally can't understand it

[aiyexayen]

pridewrite day 2 let's gooooo

day 2: plaid/cuffed jeans, ft. jiang yanli/wen qing/wei ying

"Not to be a lesbian but oh my fucking god. Oh my god. Jesus fuck-ing Christ."

Wei Ying looks up from the frog he's been inspecting and turns to the other end of the pier where Jiang Yanli--his best friend in the entire world--sits with her phone gripped close to her face, her bare feet dangling in the water.

(The fact that he has no fewer than seven people he would call his best friend in the entire world does not make it less true. Anyway, he's known A-Li the longest, since they were little kids playing out on this same pier together with A-Cheng. Sometimes when they come out here the two-decade-old memories of the three of them racing to be the first to jump into the river, wearing even less than they are now, layer over reality to the point of distraction. Today is not, however, one of those days.

Today is a day for crouching by the shallows and peering under lotus leaves, sketching the frogs until something of clearly much gayer importance is brought to his attention.)

Just as Wei Ying looks up, so does Yanli, peeking over her phone to make sure he heard. Wei Ying will swear later she had actual hearts twinkling in her starstruck eyes.

Emphatically she adds, directly to Wei Ying, "Oh my god."

Grin flashing, Wei Ying stands up and pads over with a quick little hopping gait across the sun-heated boards, ignoring the creak of joints that let him know just how long he's been hunched in the same position. They'll get over it.

"Show me, show me!"

He drops down right up against Yanli and gratefully sticks his feet in the cool water, abandoning his sketchbook and flopping sideways into her so she can do just that.

Yanli giggles indulgently at his nonsense and leans her head over against his, holds up her phone.

It's a photo. And another one, as Yanli swipes a delicate thumb across. And a third, and a fourth, and they're, well, really fucking hot. Wei Ying inhales sharply.

All of them are of Wen Qing--his best friend in the entire world--set against some kind of empty parking garage. And she looks like a goddess. A goddess in plaid and cuffed jeans and blood-red eye shadow.

Not just any cuffed jeans, either, but fancy fashion jeans: almost obnoxiously wide-legged, briefly hugging her hips to hint at curves and then dropping straight down to make her look longer than she really is. The cuffs on the bottom are wide, too, only rescued from trailing on the ground by the spiky heels just peeking out from underneath. Oh, and they're notched open right next to the dangling red silk belt for a thigh window, under which Wei Ying can just see hints of her tattoo.

It probably wouldn't be nearly as bad without the black plaid shirt, four sizes too big, thrown on and hanging open over nothing more than a slash of red lace across her chest. The sleeves are, Wei Ying notes with despair, rolled up to the elbow, showing off forearms which he's always known were unfairly built. It's bad enough in the first shot of her lounging seductively against a concrete wall; the one where she's crossing her arms and staring down at the camera with her trademark quelling look--caught impeccably in high definition--is much, much worse.

"God in heaven," Wei Ying agrees, feeling his mouth go dry.

He knew, technically, that Wen Qing had started her modelling gig last week, taking advantage of her looks to see her through medical school, but he hadn't really thought about it, and definitely hadn't remembered the first set was dropping today.

"Right?" Yanli sounds vindicated. "Holy fucking shit, A-Ying--the one where she's sitting on the yellow beam? I have never before in my life been so envious of a chunk of steel."

Wei Ying laughs and agrees. "Maybe you should put on a raincoat and go knock on her door, ah?"

Yanli elbows him lightly and then they sit there together in the summer sun, bare arms and thighs sticking together, hunched over the little screen of her phone for an incredibly reasonable and normal amount of time, flipping back and forth between the images. Whether it's the fact that Wen Qing is so drop-dead gorgeous or just the novelty of seeing someone they actually know dolled up and posed like a real model, like she's art, Wei Ying isn't sure.

Eventually Yanli pulls back, sits upright, and breaks the silence with a long, soft sigh. "Wei Ying," she announces. "I might have to ask your girlfriend out on a date."

Wei Ying takes a slow breath, sitting up himself, and turns to give a solemn nod, looking up at Yanli with big eyes. "I understand, A-Li. I'm afraid...that I feel the same way about your girlfriend."

After another beat where they just manage to hold eye contact, they dissolve into giddy laughter and fall back together.

"We'll ask her together, ah?" Yanli says, setting her phone down and reaching out to flick a stray hair out of Wei Ying's face. "These turned out stunningly well; she deserves a celebratory dinner."

Wei Ying beams and catches her hand, swinging it like a kid. "In the meantime--"

He doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before Yanli tackles him into the river.

Spluttering and laughing, they surface and Wei Ying splashes her in retaliation. She beat him to the dunking by a full ten seconds at least!

"No fair!"

"That's for the terrible pun you were about to make about being hot and bothered," Yanli says smugly, and splashes him back.

In truth, Wei Ying can't even try to pretend he's offended; it was a terrible pun. He spends the rest of the afternoon making worse ones, though, just because he can.

He's pretty sure at least the frog appreciates them.

#pridewrite #pridewrite2022 #pw2 #pwalt2 #the untamed #wei ying #wen qing #jiang yanli

[letkanatasayfuck]

my top 10 paralive songs in no particular order

hello!! i thought i'd rank my faves before the new content drops in the summer!! so let's go!!

#1 - PARADISE // BAE ft. ISSA: oh man, i LOVE this one. it's feel-good, it's summer party vibes, it's catchy and smooth and everyone blends together SO well in it!! i think the english-japanese mash is super well-done in this song, it literally makes me feel like i'm being called out to have fun and get swept off my feet

#2 - GOOD TIME // COZMES ft. SKY-HI: SKY-HI'S PART ABSOLUTELY SLAPS. OH MY GOD. I COULD LISTEN TO THAT ON REPEAT FOREVER. kanata and nayuta kick off really strong too like holy shit??? i know there are people who don't like that monotone style or too much repetition but it's really soothing to me!! AND THEY DESERVE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME AFTER ALL THE SHIT THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH!!

#3 - JUMPING INTO MY WORLD // Lollipop*universe: you would not BELIEVE the serotonin rush this song gives me . . . it's catchy, it's easy to sing along to, and you can really get a taste of everyone's personal styles, which i think is super cool! and they all genuinely sound like they're having so much fun singing it!! (plus the mv is absolutely adorable LMAO)

#4 - CALL FOR FAMILIEZ // AKANYATSURA: this . . . this song hurts my heart . . . it's so GOOD but it's so PAINFUL and i love it so much!! i get so hyped up for reo's part, i always sing the "FAMILIA" along with him LMFAO. and i really like how his singing contrasts with the flow of the song!! it makes it much catchier imo. iori's part also really sells it for me bc. well. ajksdljkadaDJK i do not think i need to say anymore than that!!!

#5 - GIRAGIRA CANDY NIGHT // CLUB CANDY: this song fucks!! it fucks hard!! like if it had a physical body it would do unspeakable things!! once again iori's voice comes out on top like UGH the way he sings <333 also that part where everyone comes together one after the other?? i LOVE that it's so cool!!

#6 - Why do you like me? // Beauty & Beast: okay anyone who says they don't like this song HAS to be lying. like. the others are all my personal opinion but the objective truth for "Why do you like me" is that it is perfect!! it's so pretty and soothing and the VULNERABILITY that anne shows in it . . .

#7 - CHILLIN' // HOKUSAI WITH AKANKYATTSURA: this one also brings me serotonin but in like!! a chill way!! reo's part also reminds me of how he is in "CALL FOR FAMILIEZ" in that it goes against how everyone else usually matches the flow, and i love that!! also the little "HAI SANSEI" in the bg are so cute?? this song just makes me feel better about myself and life in general tbh it's a lovely reminder to slow down and relax

#8 - WAVIN' FLAG // BAE: wavin' flag literally sounds like it belongs in a fantasy rebellion overthrow-the-government movie. like. it's THAT powerful. everything about it goes so hard and i have a lot of respect bc of that!! also it's just really catchy and another fun one to sing along with LMAO

#9 - For my Stella // VISTY: another song that i'm pretty sure nobody hates LMFAO. it's so bright and fun and lovely and the mv is very pretty to watch!! also aoi's part is so soothing wtf. i want them and reo just fucking up songs with their contrasts and blowing everyone else out of the water

#10 - EMBLEM // BAE + BURAIKAN IS BACK // BURAIKAN: okay so . . . i kind of cheated with this one bc i really could not decide between the two LMFAO. emblem is so sweet and fun and i love singing along to it, and the confidence boost it gives me helps a lot!! plus the mv is so aesthetically pleasing like wtf. buraikan is back is like. weirdly seductive and haunting and dark and it sucks you in like a black hole. plus the fact that the music is used for the intro videos??? IT'S SUCH A STRONG WAY TO INTRODUCE PPL LIKE WTF

#paradox live #paralive #sou says stuff #cozmez #kanata yatonokami #nayuta yatonokami #bae #allen sugasano #hajun yeon #anne faulkner #visty #shogo yamato #toma hikage #aoi kureha #kantaro misuji #akanyatsura #iori suiseki #reo maruyama #hokusai masaki #zen gaho #satsuki ito #buraikan #chisei kuzuryu #haruomi shingu #also included: #shiki ando #ryu natsume

[kittimau]

Two things: 1. Can you share some of the wips and fic ideas you’ve got squirreled away on your laptop with us? 🥺 2. I wish you loved your writing as much as I love your writing and self doubt or overthinking stuff didn’t hold you back from posting. You are so talented!! Don’t let your brain tell you otherwise!!!

Thank you sm 😭🥺

Sure, I can share some stuff! I have a doc I fling ideas into whenever they hit me, no matter how detailed or small or stupid. PWPs, crack, AUs, slow burns, fix-its, etc. They're usually little more than stream of consciousness rambling, and sometimes just a link, or song lyrics, a reddit thread, meme, or fanart - whatever inspired me in the moment and made me think, "I should revisit this later."

To give you an idea what the former looks like (though I'll be honest, this is tidier than most lol):

Psychologist/Client Modern AU

Premise: Obi-Wan realizes he’s becoming attracted to his beautiful young client and tries to refer him to another doctor. Little does he know, Anakin has been harboring a crush for years.

Anakin comes in one day for a session and Obi-Wan seems off somehow, nervous almost. It's unlike him. Immediately, Anakin is wary. Before he has a chance to say anything, Obi-Wan gets right to the point and tells him he's referring him to another doctor. Anakin demands to know why and he won't give him a straight answer, or at least not one Anakin believes. He's heartbroken, but the more Obi-Wan dodges his questions, the more frustrated he becomes. Obi-Wan opens the door and tells him he should probably go.

As Anakin is passing by, he gets a little too close, and that's when he notices it. A hitch in Obi-Wan's breath, dilated pupils. And he knows. There's no way he's letting it go now. So he tests his theory. Boxes Obi-Wan in. Obi-Wan is becoming increasingly agitated, holy shit he's actually stammering - that never happens - not to him, the man who's always so smooth and professional and careful with his words.

“If you're referring me,” Anakin says, leaning closer, “I guess I'm not your patient anymore then, am I?" 

Obi-Wan blinks, eyes falling briefly to Anakin’s lips. “No,” he breathes, “I suppose you aren't.”

Anakin grins. "Good.”

And then they kiss! Blah blah blah cue the hot desk sex.

Okay, the rest of this got pretty long so I'm dropping the WIPs under the cut.

First, there's Troubled Water. I have bits of multiple chapters written already but most of my focus is of course on chapter 4. Idk why but I've been struggling with it. 😅 It takes place on a different point in the timeline than originally intended (it was actually ch3 but what was supposed to be a flashback ended up turning into an entire scene of its own and thus the whole club disaster lol). It's, again, so long that it will probably end up split into two chapters but as of right now I'm kinda wingin' it.

And am I being entirely self-indulgent by using my own OCs (and some friends')? Yes.

I'm a writer, I can do anything.

Also I just thought it'd be cool to introduce a new species or two lol. The GFFA is vast okay, there's always room for more. Anyway, here's an excerpt:

“Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Da’riel of Clan Sarel. You have already met my Captain. The big guy behind you is my personal bodyguard. Don’t mind him, he only looks terrifying.” His grin takes on a mischievous edge as Bull huffs what might be a grunt or a laugh and he gestures toward the room he just emerged from. “And last but certainly not least—”

Another Dua’vian materializes in the doorway as though summoned, leaning her shoulder against the architrave. Her hair catches Anakin’s attention first; red as Queen’s Heart blossoms, it cascades in thick waves around shoulders draped in the black silk of a shirt several times too large to be hers, its hem halting mid-thigh. Her legs are bare beneath it.

Cheeks flaming, Anakin turns his gaze resolutely away.

“—this absolute vision is Liv Viventoly. If Preia is my right hand, Liv is my left.”

“What does that mean,” Anakin blurts, and everyone looks at him. Though Obi-Wan never rolls his eyes, the expression on his face is about as close as he gets to it. It’s a very particular brand of fatigue and mild annoyance entirely unique to his master, translated via a blank stare and slightly raised brows. He doesn’t even have to hear the “Honestly, Anakin,” aloud to know that’s exactly what he’s thinking.

“It means”—Liv straightens, smirking—“that I work in the shadows.” Anakin flinches back as she saunters past him and slides smoothly onto one of the tall stools at the well-stocked bar.

Like that answers anything. Why is everyone so cryptic all the time?

“What’s important is that while you’re here, know that you can trust them as I do,” Dua’primia Sarel says.

Obi-Wan nods, though Anakin senses apprehension through their bond. “We appreciate your hospitality, Dua’primia. I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is—”

Anakin jolts forward. “Anakin Skywalker. We are at your service, my Lord.”

Sarel looks at his proffered hand with something like amusement and glides past Obi-Wan to clasp it with his. This close, he realizes the Dua’vian is an inch or two taller than himself—being somewhat tall for a human, it’s not an experience Anakin has often—and his eyes are a vibrant peridot green, accentuated by the black markings curving elegantly around the angles of his face that remind Anakin a bit of a Zabrak’s. A vicious scar bisects one eye from brow to cheek, long healed but still pink against his fair complexion, and Anakin spares a second to wonder if he got it during the war.

“Please,” he says, and is it just Anakin’s imagination, or did his voice lower in timbre? “Let us do away with such formalities. Call me Da’riel.” 

Anakin swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “Oh—okay. Da’riel,” he repeats stiffly, hoping he isn’t completely butchering the pronunciation. By the way the man beams, he thinks he did alright. Da’riel releases his hand slowly, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of his inner wrist before Anakin withdraws it behind his poncho. He glances sidelong at Obi-Wan, but his master’s expression is as inscrutable as ever.

“Well then,” Da’riel declares with a brisk clap, making his way to the bar, “drinks?”

“Can we get down to business, please?” Preia says, rolling her eyes. 

“Such a spoilsport. Would it surprise you to know she isn’t always this uptight?” Chuckling, Da’riel uncaps a sapphire-blue crystal decanter and waves it beneath his nose. “Normally my dear Captain is the one pouring the liquor.”

“And I’ll drink you under the table like always once this threat is dealt with.”

“I shall hold you to that, my friend. And you, Jedi?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replies, a little too quick to be casual. “Thank you.” Anakin shoots him an inquisitive glance. 

“Ah.” Da’riel nods sagely. “So the rumors are true.”

“Da’riel—” Preia hisses.

“What?” Da’riel looks around at everyone, not contrite in the least. 

And his master was concerned that Anakin would be the one to say or do something culturally insensitive. He hides a quiet snicker behind his hand, pretending to rub his nose, and Obi-Wan gives him an unamused look before schooling his expression back to its artificial serenity. 

“Please excuse him,” Preia says, hip cocked, a finger rubbing against her temple. “He’s very—”

Liv butts in, “Reckless, blunt, uncouth?” 

Da’riel merely laughs, and Anakin can feel that it’s genuine. This is not at all the fearsome war General, leader of a revolution, and ruler of an entire planet that Anakin imagined. He seems close to these people, treats them more as equals and friends than subordinates or subjects, yet there’s still an aura about him that commands attention and respect as power or royalty would. 

Preia smirks. “Too honest for his own good.”

Whatever it is, Anakin doesn’t sense cruel intent coming from the Dua’primia, just honest curiosity. Despite the glare his master is drilling into the side of his head like he knows what Anakin is going to do, he can’t help asking, “What rumors?” 

“That you’re, er, monks,” Preia says, chuckling to mask embarrassment on behalf of her comrade and her own curiosity. 

“You know.” Liv sips at the drink Da’riel just poured her, not looking at them as she speaks, and Anakin leaks a pulse of unease into the Force. There’s something about her he simply can’t put his finger on. “No drinking, no fu—”

“Fun!” Preia hastily interjects, staring daggers at the other redhead. 

The corners of Anakin’s mouth twitch into a partial frown. They aren’t entirely wrong. He has his own… issues with the Order, with following rules that often either don’t make sense to him or directly conflict with his own ingrained beliefs. But it rankles for some reason, like he’s being judged, like they’re being judged. Mocked, even, though he doesn’t quite discern their meaning. Jedi are guardians of peace and justice within the galaxy. Maybe he doesn’t agree with the way the Order does things sometimes, but without them, without Anakin and Obi-Wan, the world would fall to disorder. To the dark side. People should be grateful—

“We are simply tired from our journey,” Obi-Wan interrupts his thoughts, sidling close enough that their shoulders graze, and Anakin exhales.

“My apologies, Jedi,” Da’riel says sincerely. “I am merely intrigued by your culture, as I’m sure you are of ours.” Obi-Wan bows his head in acceptance. “The hour is late. Preia?”

She hands Obi-Wan a datapad. “This contains an updated blueprint of the palace and map of the city, including the hidden exits and underground tunnels. I’ve marked the positions of my officers for each shift rotation as well as their schedules.”

Obi-Wan hums, stroking his beard as his eyes flit over the information on the screen. “And the evening of the festival?” 

“We’re tripling security, pulling from both the palace guard and local law enforcement.”

“How many of them know we’re here?” Anakin says.

There’s a knock at the door before she can answer, and Bull moves to open it, standing back to allow someone entry. It's a man Anakin recognizes. Tall and broad, with neatly-combed dark hair, deep-set brown eyes, and a kind yet serious face. His attire perfectly matches the regal demeanor flowing off him in waves, fine tailored robes of pewter-blue that swish around matching trousers as he walks. When his eyes land on Obi-Wan, a fond grin meets Obi-Wan’s public, Jedi-persona equivalent; a small, polite smile, though his eyes twinkle with equally affectionate mirth as Senator Bail Organa bends to his height to trade light kisses upon each cheek. 

Anakin knows from experience that it’s just a traditional Alderaanian greeting; it doesn’t mean anything. The Senator is a happily married man. And he’s pretty sure Obi-Wan hasn’t been involved with anyone in years, if ever. Whatever illicit affair he’d thought his master had with Vos was obviously just fueled by his own overactive imagination. He knows this because Obi-Wan never did meet the Kiffar before he shipped out for his next mission, and he hasn’t been alone with Vos since. Obi-Wan even stopped going to bars and clubs; stopped going out much at all, in fact, aside from diplomatic dinners and stuff they do on missions. Otherwise, he mostly stays with Anakin, and that’s exactly how Anakin likes it. 

None of that prevents the irritation boiling within his veins or the tormenting memory of a kiss that’s burrowed its way into his very soul, a kiss that should have never been, and the hollow, bitter pang that always follows in its wake.

Goosebumps prickling the flesh at his nape, he glances around and finds Da’riel leaning back lazily against the front of the bar on one elbow, sipping his drink and watching Anakin intently. Face flushing with heat, he plops into one of the plush chairs and out of the Dua’primia's view.

“Obi-Wan. As always, it is a pleasure to see you.”

“And you as well, Bail.”

“Now that everyone is here,” Preia says, “shall we get started?”

This is Da'riel btw:

"But there are no elves in Star Wars," one might say. Well guess what: there are now. 😌

Preia and Liv belong to @jacklyn-flynn & @charlatron respectively.

As for other WIPs; there's one I started before Troubled Water, though my focus was drawn to TW instead so it's been put on the backburner for now. The original idea was some kind of canon-divergent time-travel fix-it, but in the sense that Vaderkin's consciousness from the end of RoTJ returns to his body around the end of the Mortis arc in The Clone Wars. Can't say why that inspired me but it did lol, it felt like a pivotal moment (one of the shatterpoints I like to theorize about, change one thing and they're all altered via butterfly effect etc).

Like, what if he lived the future shown to him in that vision that the Father erased, and how would he react differently afterward, how would he talk to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka about what they went through on Mortis and the implications if he actually, finally understood and believed that he was indeed the Chosen One, how would they approach the Sith situation and the war from that point on... yeah I just have a lot of thoughts idk. I know that arc isn't a fan favorite but I personally loved the metaphor and the entire Prophetic Greek Tragedy vibe.

Excerpt:

“General Skywalker, come in.”

He feels… strange. Heavy yet impossibly lighter. Awareness presses down around him, suffocating, and a sharp pain lances through his skull as he draws the first shuddering breath in what feels simultaneously like mere minutes and several millennia. His mouth is dry, his throat sore, and his eyes burn as he slowly blinks into wakefulness. The crust of sleep clings to his long lashes, the salt-stained skin upon his cheeks pulling uncomfortably as he moves. He rubs them with a gloved hand and groans at the bright flashing lights of a console as they sharpen into focus. 

Wait—

He has a body. 

Moments ago he was formless and adrift, yet he is once again whole. And before that, he was… he was…

Kriff, he has hands. Hands he sees unfiltered, rather than through a tinted transparisteel visor protecting damaged retinas. And he’s breathing. Unassisted by a mechanical apparatus, by endless tubes and wires, no longer submerged under the ceaselessly distracting harsh rasp of a ventilator. Fingers flexing inches before his face, he blinks again, stunned. Not only does he have a body, but it’s his body. His limbs—well, with the exception of one. His gaze drifts slowly down to his long legs, toes curling experimentally in his boots. The sheer relief of it sends him reeling. 

Red light glints off his leather tabards and he looks up, expecting that any moment now, this will all prove another dream, a nightmare; a life free of that shell dangled temptingly before him only to be snatched away again. But the scene does not change. Dazed, he assesses his surroundings. A ship. He's on a ship? Familiar, Republic make. And there is a presence in the Force, a presence he has not felt in—

Hours. Years. An eternity.

Breath held, he turns. Only his head; as though any attempt to move this foreign yet thrillingly familiar youthful body will snap him out of this vision, send him back to that… that hell. And as he does, he sees him, a shining beacon of pure light, warm and bright and soothing. A man in beige robes, slumped in the co-pilot’s chair beside him, just beyond arm’s reach. Legs akimbo, elbows perched upon the armrests, hands dangling limply over his lap. His bearded chin is tucked to his chest which rises and falls in the slow, steady rhythm of unconsciousness. Auburn hair spills across his forehead, obscuring his eyes. But he would know this man anywhere.

Obi-Wan.

The desperate beat of his heart and rough, relieved exhale that escapes his lips seems thunderously loud in the otherwise silent cockpit. Fresh tears springing to his eyes, he attempts to stand—to go to him, to sweep Obi-Wan into his arms and feel his warmth, to surround himself with his scent and know for certain that he’s here, he's real, he’s alive—only to wobble and collapse back into the seat like a fawn testing new legs for the first time. 

How is this happening?

He feels himself, and not himself. As though he took a nap and awoke with another lifetime sliced into his brain, a vision he can't shake, an overwrite of his programming, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between it and the reality he's presented with the more he struggles to process it—

A flicker of blue dances in his periphery, repeating a question, and it is only with great reluctance that he tears his eyes away from his former Master. The holo-projection of another man stands at attention in the center console, brow furrowed with worry. Fondness and guilt and confusion flood him with equal measure as he takes in his Captain’s, his friend’s, appearance. 

“General Skywalker, do you read me?”

Skywalker.

The voice of the last person to call him by that name, in that other life, echoes in his mind. It is the name of your true self, you have only forgotten. The son he tried to kill, to corrupt, to save. The son who saved him, and in the end, returned him to the light. Luke.

Clearing his parched throat, he responds, “I—we read you, Rex,” and marvels at the sound of his own voice, so crisp and clear and young, without the distortion of that burdensome helmet. “You—you’re a sight for sore eyes. Can you hear me?”

Fabric rustles behind him and he instinctively reaches for the lightsaber at his hip before the sleepy, curious brush of another Force signature meets his own. Gasping, he whips around in the flight chair.

“Ahsoka!”

She winces, rubbing her tired eyes. “Not so loud, Skyguy,” she says on the back end of a yawn, glancing around the cockpit. “What happened? We were—-mmphh!” Her surprised grunt is muffled against his shoulder as he all but falls out of his seat to the floor at her feet and drags her into his arms, then his lap, cradling her like a child. 

Face buried in her soft lekku, he squeezes her close to his chest, body wracked with silent sobs. All he’d wanted was to protect Ahsoka. To mentor her, as his master before him, and give her the tools she needed to protect herself and innocents across the galaxy. Brilliant, kind, stubborn and strong, and so, so wise beyond her time, she became one of the most talented Jedi he had ever met. Though they’d gotten off to a rocky start, she made him proud, made him feel honored to be her master. Watching her leave the Order tore his heart in two. Watching her leave him destroyed him. Already he’d been questioning the Council, questioning the Order as a whole and their damn inflexible code. But more than that, he questioned himself. He’d failed as her master, failed as a Jedi. 

The memories haunt him. For months he examined the shatterpoints of their lives together, in hindsight—every lesson taught, every battle fought, wondering where he went wrong, what he could have done differently, how he could have fixed things, helped her, kept her close—spiraling down, down into the depths of his own torment and self-loathing. Without Ahsoka, Obi-Wan had been his only remaining tether to the Jedi. To the light. A tether broken, in the end, by his selfishness. By jealousy and hatred and greed, by the fear of abandonment, loss, and… deep, shameful, unrequited feelings. 

But here she is, right here in the secure circle of his arms. His beloved young padawan, the girl he’s come to cherish like a friend, a sister, who he’d met lightsaber for lightsaber in that dark future but even then, corrupted as he was, could not bring himself to kill because he loved her so. Loves her still.

“Master?” Ahsoka murmurs, hands hanging limp at her sides for several seconds before hesitantly returning his embrace with equal strength. Too often preoccupied with and separated by the war, the opportunities to shown her such open affection were far and few between, usually coming after particularly difficult missions, brief brushes with death, and how kriffed up is that? Filled with regret, he promises himself here and now that will change. 

“Are you…” Trailing off, she reaches up to slowly pet his hair and he releases a quiet sigh, finally pulling back to look at her. Her eyes are wide and worried and so very, terrifically, blue. “Master, what’s wrong?”

Letting out a soft chuckle, he shakes his head. “Nothing, Snips.” The old nickname rolls off his tongue without even thinking and his heart clenches, this time with both pain and joy. “Nothing at all. Everything is perfect.”

There’s a crackle of static behind them, then, “Ah, General Kenobi. It’s good to see you, sir. Are you three alright? General Skywalker seems—”

He lifts his gaze to the co-pilot’s chair. Obi-Wan is awake and perched upright in front of the holo, staring silently at them with a frown so achingly familiar a tangled web of affection, longing, pain, betrayal swells within his chest. It hurts, it hurts so much to look at Obi-Wan like this, yet now that those eyes are open and trained so intently on him, he can’t tear his own away. And Obi-Wan’s just as beautiful as ever, just as heart-wrenchingly perfect and good. 

Too late, he remembers that their bond, while not as strong as it had once been, remains. Unlike most master and padawan pairs after the apprentice reaches knighthood, neither he nor Obi-Wan could bring themselves to sever it. They were at war, their connection was vital. It made them a better team. Until— 

His mental shields slam into place but not before Obi-Wan arches a single brow, lips parting as if to repeat Rex’s inquiry. 

“I’m fine,” he rushes to cut Obi-Wan off, “we’re all fine. Just, uh—where are you?” 

He can only beg the Force that his former master and current padawan did not feel too much, did not see the torment buried within him. By the way they appear to be communicating with one another like whispers behind closed doors, however, he’s sure they will have questions. Questions he doesn’t know how to answer. Letting go of Ahsoka, he clambers to his feet, limbs still trembling, and drops heavily back into the pilot’s chair.

“Standing by, sir. We were worried. You were,” Rex hesitates, “off the scopes there for a moment.”

Memories hit him in a rush. Chaotic, lacking order. He's in a dark room with his dead mother whispering poison in his ear. On a balcony overlooking a pristine lake, flowers scenting the air, one hand rising to touch soft skin. In a junkyard, fingers covered in mech oil, the ever-present grit of sand between his molars. At an opera listening to the viper beside him spit lies, lies, lies. The sky above shifts rapidly from day to night, and he's lost in a spinning whirlpool of stars and the obscene rush of power he feels as he brings gods to their knees. Then he's watching the silhouette of a robed man against the backdrop of sunset thinking look at me, look at me, please look at me, I need you—

Sifting through them is a struggle. Everything blurs together, and he can't control what comes or when, skull throbbing from the effort. His thoughts, his feelings, are an amalgamation of eras he can't quite reconcile; the slave boy, the padawan learner, the Jedi Knight, the General, the Sith Lord. It's too much, it's too much and he doesn't know who or what he is anymore and the panic is rising— 

A comforting hand settles upon his shoulder and he opens his eyes. Ahsoka.

“A moment?” Obi-Wan says, still staring at him. He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable under that all-too perceptive gaze. At length, his master turns to the holo. “We’ve been gone far longer than a moment.”

Rex’s eyes flit between them. “Sir, I don’t understand. You’ll need to explain.”

Ahsoka snorts. “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.”

Still have a lot of mental fleshing out to do before it goes anywhere but there ya have it.

May the Force be with you, always!

As for the first part of your comment, really, thank you. It's not that I don't love my writing so much as the process can be difficult at times. 😅 I'm a perfectionist, and not by choice so much as my brain simply won't let things go until they feel right. Even after publishing something I have a very bad habit of going back in and editing it a dozen more times. It's very annoying! 😂

Sometimes that single-minded focus gets me stuck in a huge rut because I'm too zoned in on trivialities to navigate back to the big picture. Basically writer's block is the worst feeling ever and sometimes I get down about not being as productive as I should be. But I do love writing, and making people happy with my work gives me a lot of joy and motivation to keep at it. Well, I should probably get back to work on TW but I hope you enjoyed the excerpts! All your kind words made me smile and I'm gonna try to carry that positivity with me. 🥰

#anon asks #mau answers #Troubled Water #and other random stuff #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #bail organa #obikin #vaderwan #star wars #my wips #my ocs #obikin fanfic

[ironclawallosaur]

Concept: urban fantasy where all law enforcement is forcibly converted to being vampires upon getting out of the police academy.

Why? Because they physically cannot entire a private space without 1. the owner's invitation, or 2. a warrant (the state giving them an invitation over the owner's objections). Public areas are by definition not somewhere they need invitation, but semi-private areas like smaller stores can sometimes pose issues if the owner didn't also set out an obvious written invitation.

(I bet that's totally invisible, too—they come back to a favorite coffee shop and while nothing looks different, the sign got taken down, dusted, and replaced by the minimum wage new hire who has no ownership of the store and technically can't invite anyone anywhere, so now they're stuck at the entrance)

Other benefits: these vampires have a typical advanced healing factor / super sense / general all around +1 to all stats thing typical in modern vampire stories, which means that "I was in fear of my life" excuses are a lot harder to make stick. They also pick up on inconsistencies in blood spatter awfully fast because blood strikes them as Intriguing.

Drawbacks: vampires require human blood, and can only consume liquids. There's a huge, quiet fear of biting-type police brutality becoming a big problem, though because the overall thrust of this is "nothing is more dangerous than a politician or administrator with a clever idea" it's more of a fear than a reality.

Also, while most vampire hunter clans were approached to Not Fight The Law, one group out and out refused. As far as the public is aware they're some sort of domestic terrorists.

No, the public has no idea this has happened—and there's very serious, magically-enforced gag orders preventing the news from going further than immediate family—though they're getting an overall gist that something's up. On that, religiosity has been going up—vampires are repelled by Faith, so a fugitive from the cops will always find shelter in a church or other holy site, cars with prominent religious icons rarely get stopped, and major holidays see the cops lethargic. This is not restricted to Abrahamic religions, and someone with sufficient faith in a nonreligious institution could use an artifact of that—a BitCoin Bro dead convinced that the coin will Always Go Up could use something with a BC logo on it as a ward. This is because vampires operate in a Fear niche that faith damages, and also because it's funny.

I figure the best way to do this would be "recently dropped Masquerade" so modern history can create modern institutions without worrying too much about butterfly effect.

Other notes:

human blood is metaphysically necessary, but dietarily a vampire can stretch a donation or two with pig's blood and smoothies

the bigbrains behind this basically made it mandatory and then went OH SHIT WHAT IF WE DID SOMETHING BAD and enacted a bunch of strictures to prevent Vampire Cop Uprisings

I dunno if this is nationwide (it is more or less set in some big city in the US in my mind) or just citywide, but it would affect all of any agencies within jurisdiction

FBI is not vampires

cops can no longer eat donuts :(

various other services like firefighters or search-and-rescue are not vampires, or anything else, overall, but have been playing around with various other Fantasy Kitchen Sink creatures—I have a strong mental image of a S&R werewolf

vampirism can be cured, and anyone who leaves the police force generally is, to prevent spiking the number of vampires

the cure isn't perfect, some changes will linger

these vampires are biological, living beings, and genetically compatible with humans, but their kids don't inherit anything special except a risk factor for weird blood diseases

they can cross running water but standing on top of a sufficient volume of running water grounds out various abilities

so better hope you know where the major pipes and stormdrains are... lmao

the vampires are probably polymorphs into some kind of bat creature because I'd like to draw that

but they can't turn into mist or anything like that

obvious thing to do is make some kind of procedural

No idea if I'll ever do anything with this but it did get me from groggy light sleep to fully awake just to write it down so, y'know.

#story ideas #urban fantasy shenanigans #vampires #this is the second weird vampire setting I have nesting in my head and it's very different #send help

[ragamuffin-ponies]

Dropping by because I saw your post in the genderfluid tag hi! I'm genderfluid and 90% of the time can't actually tell you what my gender is, the 10% is me going "oh god I'm my assigned gender I've been a ~quirky cis~ the whole time" or "oh god I've been just plain transgender forever I need to commit." And both of those are wrong because the next week I'll feel completely different. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I don't know! And that's okay. If you end up being cis but knowing you like gender nonconformity that's cool, if you're binary transgender that's cool, if you're somewhere in-between or mixed up (or nothing at all), that's cool! If you want to play with gender but not label, you should do that! You're here to live! Try not to make yourself suffer by relegating yourself to gender that isn't fun or worrying about all the details.

As for loved ones, that's always rough. My family is evangelically christian and don't "get" me. They're kinda shitty, so I keep them separate and focus on being around people who like me. I had to find some queer friends, but I think I'll keep them forever. As for my wife, neither of us were out when we met and we both uncomfortably assumed the other was cishet. She's a trans woman, maybe bi or pan but just uses "sapphic." It took some time before she was ready to try new names and she/her - she even used they/them for a bit just with me as a way to expand her comfort zone. (And between you and me, I thought I didn't like women, but she came out and by god I LOVE women!)

I hope your partner listens and understands when you feel comfortable to share how you feel. I hate to say it, but if people refuse to try to understand, they're not worth being around. My wife had to leave a relationship like that (with another trans person even) because that person wouldn't listen and allow her to feel safe enough to consider coming out. But there are lots of cool people who, queer or not, will like you, love you even! They'll see you and enjoy being around you! As cheesy as it sounds, holy shit it does get better.

And unrelated to the gender stuff, I noticed on another post lamenting about "needing attention." 1 you're right, you would want a friend to talk to you, so they're probably glad you're talking to them. And 2 you're wrong, it's not that You Always Need Attention, but that you're a person, humans are very social we want to reach out and communicate. We want to talk and be heard and listen in return! I used to feel like I was overly selfish or dragging people down because I wanted to reach out all the time, and it got to the point where I got scared to say anything. One of my friends reached out because I hadn't said anything recently. They got on to me for Not sharing the stuff I was going through. They had to explain that it was part of friendship, sharing the good And the bad. Not only was it healing to hear, god it felt good to not isolate myself anymore. Even if it was just the one friend saying I could vent and complain, I didn't have to keep it inside and I could get help with problems beyond what my anxiety filled brain could come up with.

Okay this ask is too long and rambley and I think I accidentally changed a paragraph's color and can't change it back. Wrapping up now: you seem cool, keep being you, don't stress too much on labels, have as much fun as you can, talk with people you trust, and let people in (whether sharing your problems or being open to new friendships)

Also very good taste in ponies <3

Thank you Anon. I appreciate the advice and words of affirmation. In both my rant and the ponies. It's still all get fresh, a lot of these realizations came pretty quickly, but none of these feelings have been new at all. I think I'll start with my girlfriend and test the waters. We haven't been dating very long which actually now that I think of it might be a boon rather than a bane.

Idk I think identity is weird and idk what to do. It's a pretty uncomfortable journey into being comfortable

#identity crisis #///

[daemonoferror]

Excuse me while I complain a bit

I get migranes sometimes that (usually) make half my body go numb. Fucking horrifying right? It is. I half medicine to help it but I'm like. Scared. Of taking too much medicine. And this shit is like "could potentially fuck you up? Only allotted 8 a month" so whenever possible I try not to use it

But at 3-4 am this morning I woke up with not JUST half my body numb, oh baby my ENTIRE MOTHERFUCKING BODY was numb. Idk if the migrane had something to do with it or if just the sheer terror of the sensation sent me into a panic attack but holy shit I felt like I couldn't breathe

And whenever I get these migranes my first priority is ~clearly~ to not make a scene. That'd be stupid! Like literally the first one I got I was 15 on a plane and I thought I was actually having a stroke, which btw is the way my grandfather died. So so fun. I thought "I might be dying. But I'll die faster if a flight attendant sees me and tries to help-"

And once I stumbled through my father's apparement to get my meds once and walked past him thinking "dont act suspicious, dont fall dont fall" and then burst into tears when I dropped the pills and my dad called out asking if I was alright and I couldn't form a coherent answer back.

ALL this to say- what I could've done was called or texted my mom and said "help. Need water." And she probably would've helped. But instead I stumbled downstairs pills in hand, unsure if I was making it back upstairs, to get a glass of water. Why didn't I take it dry? Because I'm a coward that's why. Also didn't have confidence in my swallowing abilities given I could hardly fucking breathe. And some fucking demonic beast decided to make the pills packaging the HARDEST DAMN THING TO OPEN LIKE WHAT THE FUCK MAN

IMAGINE you're me here. You woke up, you probably got less than 2 hours of sleep. Your mind isnt minding, your limbs aren't limbing. They feel weak and tired- everything feels like it weighs 5x what it should and your hands dont necessary want to do what they need to do. Imagine an alien controlling a human body. Hands sorta flailing around, no good grip on anything, sorta floating like they're in zero gravity or some shit. Surgeon simulator style.

And this mother fucking packaging holds a tiny teeny itty-bitty pill in some sorta hard plastic tin foil shit that refuses to break.

I was crying and waving scissors around when I finally opened it.

I didn't fall asleep for another hour. And now I'm awake. And I have been since 7:30. Because unlike and other day where I peacefully sleep through my

The conclusion to this epic tale? My body feels so so fucking weak now. And I feel awful. And tired. And I guess this is my life now.

Man, I just wanted to see Across the Spiderverse today :(

#tw migraine #tw medicine #sean's epic tales

[tabsterfm]

Well, Fall Guys F2P Season 2 has ended today- which blindsided me cuz I dropped the season when they reworked the exp grind to being ABSOLUTE SHIT, but it seems like they REALLY want ME specifically to keep playing because now they are doing a marine theme this season! How joyous! And with a new Fall Guys season comes new licensed skins to soullessly grind the battle pass for. Let's peep em real quick.

Yep, still targeting me as always I see. Spongebob is a no-brainer considering the theme- and thank god they didn't fuck up that skin. The other two though I cannot fathom why they are even here (I guess theming never really mattered in Fall Guys for licensed skins, so whatever). Despite that, Ultraman is another amazing toku rep for this game (though I wonder why they used the Netflix adaptation specifically), and the Dovahkiin is nice to see for me as well cuz I love The Elder Scrolls series. Just weird that they're here at all with the water theme.

Gotta love the additional Ultraman stuff unlockable in the pass, and the Gary looks uncannily good for a game this stylized lmao.

Also, fucking finally, you are able to preview victory animations in the pass (and I presume your inventory as well but I didn't check).

Another new thing they're doing this season is adding skins to the seasonal challenges, which is a nice idea to actually incentivize me to do those since I don't really give a shit about crown shards, especially since the F2P update made them USELESS (I am still mad). Shame it's just one skin with a recolored alt instead of being two unique skins, but it's whatever since I'm probably never going to use these skins ever.

Overall, I like the content this season is filled with, and I look forward to seeing what the new stages are- you know, the only actual part that matters about new seasons because cosmetics mean NOTHING. Shame that cosmetics/rewards motivate me to play certain games more because holy shit how do you fumble the bag so hard with going from F2P season 1's generosity with EXP and leveling up to whatever the fuck happened to F2P season 2. I am really praying they either found a happy medium between the two that is less ass than how last season handled the grind or simply just went back to the F2P season 1 ways. Otherwise, I am either only going to be playing this season with friends (extremely rare occurrence) or I will just play whenever I get the itch to play my favorite battle-royale-styled game (I have a lot more games that have more priority over Fall Guys atm).

#tabster says #fall guys #I like writing long things like this for sport #I hope I get to do it more often