#and ifs just so. i dunno man

[piratefishmama]

Crossing the Line | Part 12

Using the word ‘Conflicted’ for what Eddie was currently feeling was… an understatement. On the one hand, good lord he’d almost came in his jeans from just a tongue down his throat, a very very talented tongue belonging to a very very attractive man. On the other, that man had basically just pretended to like his music to get into his pants.

Eddie had never had that happen before. He didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

He did, however, know that he was ignoring the DM on Insta from that very same attractive man, the message full of blushy emojis and how he’d ‘forgotten’ to leave his number, dropping the digits right there in plain view.

He had Steve Harrington’s personal phone number. Holy shit.

He was ignoring it. Left it on read. Didn’t know what to do with it. If push came to shove and he made a decision in Steve’s favour then he’d just claim he was busy with the band at the shitty diner after the show. He stuffed a handful of lukewarm fries in his mouth, ketchup smearing the corners of his lips. If he decided against Steve then… he’d block him and forget all about him, and hope he wouldn’t show up at the coffee shop.

“I mean, if they were earplugs, then they were pretty shit earplugs, Eds” Gareth was the only one supplying a sound argument, he had ulterior motives though, he had bias to stick up for Steve! He was aiming to get the hell out of retail, and it showed.

“What?” Frank cut in with that expression on his face that blatantly said are you hearing this shit?

“I mean, he answered us all pretty easily, he had a full conversation with us! Didn’t even seem like he was struggling to hear us. Earplugs would have made it difficult to hear, right? Maybe they were something else!” All very valid points. Or… a very valid singular point.

“No he didn’t, dude, he vaguely responded to Jeff’s babbling, that he definitely could have vaguely heard through the earplugs, then left. I dunno about you but sometimes, I can definitely hear around earplugs, they’re probably just the cheap ones you get at the airport or something.”

“Dude what is your deal?”

“What’s my deal? Why are you so pro Steve Harrington?”

“He’s sick of Paul.” Jeff supplied helpfully around the straw of his chocolate milkshake.

“It’s Ralph, Paul quit last month remember?”

“Whaaatt Paul quit? Man what about him and Rhonda?"

“That’s why he quit! She got a promotion, and they couldn’t work toge—what am I even, this isn’t about Paul and Rhonda!”

“Shut up!!” Eddie’s outburst silenced the others, and also gained the attention of the drunk teens across the diner, they didn’t move though, stared for a second, before going back to their terrible ‘night out’ food. “What should I do?” He couldn’t make a decision on his own. There were too many what ifs, too many how dare he’s, too many thoughts and they were all so very loud. His friends talking over each other really wasn’t helping. “Should I… confront him? Should I just ask him about it, should I ignore him completely and hope he just goes away?”

“I think, you should talk to him.” Eddie looked up, the returning figure of the angel of Corroded Coffin, his original best friend, honorary band member. Chrissy. The girl carrying two shakes, followed closely by Nancy. “Listen, ignoring Gareth’s need to get away from retail, sorry Gare”

“It’s cool, I’ve accepted my fate.”

“Ignoring Jeff’s blatant hero worship.”

“He’s known worldwide, he did modelling in Japan, Chris! He’s a massive star!”

“And ignoring Frank’s scepticism.”

“The only sane person here you mean. Nobody recognised him tonight, Jeff, worldwide my ass.”

“Ignoring, them.” Chrissy sighed, placing hers and Nancy’s shakes down before climbing into the booth beside Eddie, Nancy following suit forcing him up against the wall. “I think you should give him a chance. He’s come all this way, he paid for tickets to see you even though he obviously didn’t have to. Did you talk to him while the others were out of the room?”

“Mhm”

“And did he talk back without any issue?”

“…Yeah.”

“Okay, so, these earplugs might not even be earplugs. There’s plenty of things that they could be! Hell, he could have issues with his eardrums for all we know! That’s pretty common in the music industry” loud instruments, huge speakers around you, he could have just been born with it for all they knew “—and there’s earplug looking things that help with eardrum issues, they could even be those sneaky 'invisible' hearing aids! You should talk to him, it’s the only way you’re gonna know for sure.”

“You just wanna flirt with his friend some more.”

“Frank I swear to god.”

“She’s right” Nancy sighed “try conjuring an ulterior motive for me you little shit.” Nancy levelled Frank with a sharp glare, he wisely chose to stay silent. She looked back to Eddie with a small smile “He spoke with me too, even over the music near the bar so I don’t think they were earplugs either. And you like him, right?”

“…I really do.” He hadn’t at first, he’d made assumptions, he’d jumped to conclusions, he’d let his music snobbery get the best of him, but then he did his research. Then he looked the guy up, his accomplishments, his skills, his general personality that shined like sunlight around the right people, he took what’d happened at the coffee shop into consideration, and then the kiss… his lips still tingled, his neck still tingled! His body still craved what’d been abruptly cut short. “He’s… he’s really nice, Nance…”

“Yeah, he seems really nice, and if he’s not? I have a revolver in my glove box.” Eddie let out a soft breath of a laugh, which lit Nancy’s face up as if she’d taken that as a personal victory. “Reply to the text, or DM, or whatever he’s sent you, I saw you looking at it on the way over here. Set something up and ask him when you get there, you’ll only regret it if you don’t.”

“…We’re supposed to be having dinner tomorrow night where he’s staying, just me and him.” And he was… so nervous didn’t seem quite the right word for how nervous he actually was. What would happen if he went? That kiss had turned filthy so quickly and he’d wanted it. He’d wanted it so badly, would tomorrow be the night? Should he prepare or—

“Great! Set up a time and find out the address.” Nancy didn’t even give him time to step onto the spiral. “It’ll be okay, we’re a call away if something goes wrong, or if he turns out to be an asshole, alright?”

“…Alright. Now let me dip my fries in your shake.”

“Ew, no!”

Part 14

#PirateWrites #crossing the line #Steddie #Ficlet #no upside down au #Nancy and Chrissy are honorary band members lmao

[wandering-tides]

TNE Fandom where are you?

Sujin shippers where are you?

I have Fics to Rec

I don't really go out of my way to rec fics (and I dunno why I have never done this before on tumblr), but BY GOD, have these two fics taken a special place in my heart.

I ADORE everything about them.

They are both Suho x Hajin ships

But the ship aside, I am so incredibly grateful for the authors to have brought them to life and allowed us to read these absolute GEMS of a fic in this little, little fandom of The Novel's Extra.

Really, y'guys have no idea how giddy and excited I get at every update.

Now, the fic in question?

1. Flowers of Agápē by DescendedGaia (Not sure if the author has a tumblr or any other social media... but lemme know if you want me to tag you :) )

Kim Hajin is a failure. There's no two ways to look at that objective truth. It's a truth that resonates through how others look at and ridicule him. It's a truth that echoes infinitely inside his head, compounding and doubling down on his inadequacies. It's a truth, despite the unconditional love of two parents that soothe but cannot dispel those haunting doubts. Kim Suho is simply perfection. The desperate vessel and ideal of Hajin's "ifs" and wishes. Because Kim Suho, the protagonist of Hajin's novel, is everything Hajin wants to be for his parents and more. But, that same story falls apart at the seams the same way Hajin has lost faith in himself. Yet, as the common narrative dictates, everything begins anew with an innocuous email requesting to remake Hajin's novel, his desperation and desire incarnate.

*** Alternatively, the extremes of Korean culture break Kim Hajin into someone who feels much more acutely, and everything shifts to the left.

This is such a MASTERPIECE. Hajin's characterisation in here is just *chefs kiss*. For me, thats one of the biggest plus points in this fic. Hajin is so much more emotionally sensitive in here and feels far more acutely than in the orignal, as should have been.

This fic has been adressing almost all the points that made me frown at or dislike in the orignal novel and manhwa (and from what I can notice, almost every one too).

This fic is kinda a rewrite of the orignal novel, (tho the author follows the manhwa flow of the story) with added Suho interactions, and such good characterization of Hajin, I fell in love at first read LMAO.

So far, there aren't any major spoilers (unless you read the author end note, where they give their own tid-bits of the chap, which sometimes contain spoilers too, or go to the comment section which may sometimes give you spoilers to the novel lol) If you are caught up with the manhwa, or atleast the season 1 of manhwa, then so far there won't be any spoilers for you!

And I think i'll stop talking about it here cuz if I keep going, I think i'll end up giving in-fic spoilers Lmao

(Oh, btw, this updates every other thursday! So far, it's been consistent in its updates ^^)

So onto the next fic!

2. Mountain To No one by @thek1ngtalks (as k1ng0fn0b0dy on ao3)

There's a number on his smartwatch that leads to nowhere. Suho's gotten in the habit of texting it throughout his day. Today, it texted back.

_ Or, in a world missing Kim Hajin, everyone is worse off. Fixing this starts with (a lot of) text messages between a protagonist and his missing piece.

And Man.... where do I begin? I have SO MUCH to say about this fic but I think i'll end up spoiling the whole fic if I start lmao. It's just so good dammit. Just gonna say that this fic takes after the end of the novel, after the conclusion. Only couple few remembers Hajin in the orignl right? Well, in this fic, nobody does. But Suho is probably (???) Going to be the first to remember... I dunno tbh, the fic is only 2 chaps in (and yes, I really adore it already)

I love what the author did with Suhos character and how he is dealing with the aftermath of... everything. Same goes for Hajin, and I love where they seems to be taking this fic. How they characterizes these two main characters and everything.

Listen, I have a LOT to say but i'll just end up giving spoilers so really go read it for yourself. This is another MASTERPIECE of a fic and I am so grateful for its presence in this little TNE fandom TT

Really, thankyou for such amazing fics authors!!

And that's all from me!! Lol I was so excited while writing this XD (could you tell? Lol)

(I edited this post twice because of all the typos I ended up making in excitement LMAO)

#TNE #the novel's extra #sujin #tne kim hajin #kim hajin #tne kim suho #kim suho #tne evandel #tne evangel #evandel #evangel #fic rec #tne fic #these are MASTERPIECES #You guys *really* need to read them #fr fr #fic on ao3 #ao3 fic #Mountain to no one #Flowers of Agápē #flowers of agape

[ask-emoripals]

Another horrid ask, for those have partners (again with asking Hero, Kel and Aubrey/Kim questions of what ifs about their partners; Mari, Sunny and Basil)

So. Just remember tho; these are all what ifs. May have happened, may have not. Just a what if it happened to you guys.

Mari, Sunny and Basil all go for a mountain trip, just the three of them. But then they come back changed; some mannerisms exaggerated(playfulness from Mari turns to full on teases, same with Sunny, and Basil with his.. I dunno, his info on plants being more expanded; like knowing the oldest plant, etc).

One day, y'all go to confront them about these things, and then like. All of a sudden, black goop(which they say later on is their insides) or smth comes out of their wounds(Mari = Neck, Sunny = Eye, Basil = Stomach/Abdomen). And then they say the words: “My imitation was supposed to be perfect...”

What would be your thoughts?

(yeah, I'm in a new fandom. But man wtf is with me and horror but like. Horny horror. I- hdhsdbhahsuhsus)

🏀: I would beat the shit out of the imitation and scream at them on where and what the fuck they did to Sunny! Then I’d break the fuckers neck!

📖: I’d commit suicide in front of the imitation, probably say a few angry words to make it guilty….. but I dunno if it would feel guilt.

⭐️🦖:

⭐️: It would’ve been what he wanted… vengeance. :(

🦖: Yeah…..

#emori ask blog #ask emori pals #emori au #emori #omori ask blog #omori #omori kel #omori sunny #omori suntan #omori hero #omori mari #omori heromari #omori aubrey #omori kim #omori basil #omori fairy floss

[setirophx]

Meet the Writer

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

(CANON MUSES) - i dunno man. i like 'em a little broken and a little fucked up. and a bit of a smartass with a soft heart under it all. that really applies to most my muses to some degree. reno started out as my fresh start after leaving a pretty terrible stint in another fandom. he was easy to approach or to approach others. he was a blank slate enough that i could be creative with crafting a background and development while still having a basis to work from. there also weren't several variations of him over decades of ever changing content via movies and comicbooks to narrow down from. and now he's practically straddling that canon vs oc line for me. this version of him is mine and mine alone. for sephiroth specifically, i'll be honest, i didn't really care too much about him for the longest time. mostly because he felt too empty and boring to me as a villain. so i didn't feel compelled to making up some background to fill in the gaps. then i played crisis core and that humanized him for me. but i still hesitated to actually write him. and then evercrisis came out with him as a teen. and just. i just think he's neat now. (OCs) - aw man, i love ocs so much. i have such a penchant for creative overflow and end up making them in batches. (usually all related to a single story or universe) but i know they can be a hard sell if they aren't already aligned to a fandom. which is totally understandable! i really have too many ocs that i'd love to write, especially in ff7 verses, but its hard to juggle them all. a few of them still have blogs, so maybe one day i can bully some people into writing with them. (:<

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

its not that i dislike writing anything in particular. on the contrary. i would love to write more questionable content. though i'd prefer to write these less savory themes with people i'm most comfortable with and understand that its just exploring things in writing and not some fucked up reflection of myself.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

what i really love writing are moments where characters who don't know love or trust is open and vulnerable with someone. they're opening up and learning to really trust someone for the first time. they're showing the real person hidden within. the actual moment or connection doesn't matter. it could be friends, lovers, enemies, or whatever. tho i will admit that i do enjoy writing some raunchy smut from time to time.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

a lot of them start as mundane thoughts about whatever numdane thing i might be doing in that moment. cooking, cleaning, eating, whatever. then i wonder how that character would react in that same situation. then the thoughts and what-ifs only grow in complexity and depth. or more abstract and philosophical depending on mood and development.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

music is an absolute no. it gets me distracted. but i also can't do silence. to i meet in this weird middle where i que up a bunch of random videos on youtube into a playlist and let it play in the background. most of it is like, reddit comps read by some soothing voice. i don't have to actually think about what i'm listening to. sometimes i'll get real lucky and listen to some deep dive into a character i'm writing and it gets the thoughts flowing.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

its a little bit of both. a goal is in mind, whether its my goal or a shared goal with my partner, but its something to reach. however, the actual journey to that point doesn't matter. that gets winged to hell and back. even with a goal in mind it can and sometimes does change in the end. and i'm perfectly okay with that. i like seeing the trajectory change over time one post at a time.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

very much so! both romantic and non. because shipping isn't just romance, but that deep connection between two characters. i try to not focus too much on romance, i swear. i enjoy ans strive to give my characters a variety of relationships.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

when i was new and young on the internet for the first and i was hot emo trash, i chose possibly one of the stupidest anime weeb ass handle i could. oni-sama666. and ever since then my nickname has been oni. the only exception is during my time playing ff14. those that know me from there first, or period, call me reno.

ᴀɢᴇ?

i might as well crumble into dust. age 31

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

Sept 23rd

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

purple, preferably lighter shades like lavender and lilac

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

ugh never make me choose. it changes literally every day. but a consistent favorite right now is savin' me by nickelback

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

a silent voice (eiga koe no katachi / the shape of voice). shit makes me bawl like a doddamn baby every time

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

the first two episodes of x-men 97. i'm super gay for gambit in a croptop.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

wasted on you — morgan wallen

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

a am a slut for a good plate of spaghetti

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

firstly, i want to state that i live down south in the states. our winters are incredibly mild. but i'll take our winters over all three summers we have.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

i'm not as close as i'd like to be. i think very highly of many people here and want nothing more than to be the weird little monkey banging symbols in their dms. but i also don't want to be annoying! my little noggin is always so full of feelings and thoughts about both my muse and about other people's muses. but its so hard getting over my nervousness.

Tagged by: tagged MYSELF

Tagging: be gay. do crime. steal it.

#; ( ooc ) #; ( munday meme ) #since i missed out yesterday #long post #resisting urge to always readmore my ooc posts

[empty-pizza]

thoughts on harrow the ninth chapter four, part one

how the fuck

did i even BEGIN to have thoughts on all this shit

before reading this chapter

I haven't even finished it yet, I just finished reading the letter and I need to collect my thoughts and lack thereof. This is Some Shit. this is where this book really begins. this is fucking baller.

i don't know long this post will run; i might end up reiterating everything in the letter as I try to keep track of everything that Harrow and I know now.

okay, so i was right (as though i could have not been) that fuckery has been about. That fuckery occurred in the 48 hours following the end of book 1. The really insidious thing about this fuckery is that the situation that we EXPECTED Harrow to be in at the end of book 1, and the situation that she is, on paper (but not according to this letter), are the exact same. Harrow became a lyctor, Harrow now has to do Emperor G-Money's bizness.

all of this is really happening for the sake of getting Harrow out of a situation she was in, but neither of us get to know what that situation is, and it got her OUT of it by putting her INTO the situation she thought she'd be in — except, of course, all these rules. suffice to say, this is baller.

one of the most interesting details i'm seeing here is that resurrecting the Harrow that wrote all this is a fail state. first of all, how literal is it that she could be resurrected? is this a memory thing? a soul thing? no idea. and whichever one of those it is wouldn't answer why it would be a failure to let that happen.

another interesting detail is that it implies that the goal here is to resurrect the girl in the tomb. that's, uh, kinda a big deal. and it's stated so plainly that it leaves nothing for me to theorize. other than the fact that 48-hours harrow learned a LOT.

like, literally, let's just run through what must have happened. harrow later in the letter implies she decided on the answer no. who was the question from? god? i thought she was agreeing to work with g man. but what if it was someone else? she had to have learned so much and i don't even know what the sources of knowledge are. and then, after that, would have had to planned all of this. god, i love this level of planning. twenty four fuckin' letters. absolutely cracked. she would get along so well with beatrice.

okay now onto the rules. this post is going to be so long and i haven't even finished the chapter.

rule one isn't too complex. this is all obviously very important so harrow's gotta be there to do it all.

rule two is very interesting and something where i completely lack the information to make a confident guess. it could be that going back to House #9 would affect her powers. or it could alert the wrong thing. or it could lure something there. or all sorts of things.

rule three is very interesting. there are definitely a lot of possibilities, but i'm gonna throw one out here: it has gideon's soul in it. that's why harrow lacks her complete powers. and it's obviously a very gideon-associated object. very interested in the details of why it can't be used, though, and all the stuff harrow has to do with it.

rule four is interesting because i don't know exactly what it means. the details seem to mostly be on harrow's skills being lacking, which we already knew — she lacks the powers of full lyctors. but i dunno, the phrase "YOU ARE COMPROMISED" feels like it implies "don't trust anyone not even yourself" things.

rule five oh wait these are guidelines not rules well i'm not going back and changing the prior paragraphs: this is an interesting one. everything i said about what must have happened in the 48 hours? ianthe had a big part in it, but i lack the information to say what. it's such an interesting blob of what-ifs because ianthe currently knows more than harrow, but past harrow knows a lot more than ianthe. this means with every piece of info we get, we may have to question whether or not ianthe knows it. this supersedes loyalty to godzo. does ianthe know that? and despite all of this we can't actually trust her.

rule six is basically the author telling us that we're in for a bumpy ride, baby. you don't set up a plot like this without having an extremely good plan. i have high expectations. interesting that ianthe is going to keep one of the letters. i wonder how well harrow will actually follow these rules. i don't think everything will go according to plan.

the choice that was made is interesting. i wonder if it was, whether or not she accepts the loss of gideon.

rule seven makes sense. this sort of magic would imply that someone else, through magic mechanics i don't have the details on, could have taken control of what ianthe says. i feel like a lot of other things you could take control of would also be a problem, though. who knows, it could be subverting my expectation. maybe it's a change ianthe herself could have made, and one that would represent a choice that goes against harrow's goals.

i'll post this now before reading the rest. also like. are they gonna kiss?

#pizza reads locked tomb #the locked tomb #tlt #harrow the ninth

[fruit-teeth]

Chronicles of Love and War (chapter 28)

Zhanna bit down on a piece of the marinated and grilled chicken cutlet, tearing with her teeth as if it was the last thing she was ever going to eat. Soldier watched her do so, heart full of love.

“Look at you,” he remarked. “Look at you! You beautiful maggot-bear, you eat like a true American champion! God, I love you, woman,”

Zhanna stopped to wipe her mouth with a napkin, before grinning up at Soldier. “You are sweetest man!”

“So I take it you feel better?” Medic asked as he stepped into the room, looking Zhanna up and down.

Zhanna nodded. “Yes! I feel good— and baby is okay, too,”

“Good…very good,” Medic took a breath and glanced around, before saying, “I don’t mean to alarm you, but i just got a very concerning phone call,”

Soldier glanced up, alert in an instant. “What!? What’s happening?”

“Bea and a group of people she’s assembled may already be on their way to the base,” Medic walked over to the window and parted the blinds slightly, though he relaxed somewhat when he didn’t see any intruders outside. “We’re unsure of just how many other people she’s with.”

Zhanna’s eyes widened, but she took in a long breath, just giving a nod. “Does everyone else know this?”

“Yes,” Medic nodded. “And preparations are being made. Soon, we’re going to barricade this room in order to keep you safe. We can’t be too sure of anything…do you understand?”

Zhanna nodded, her prosthetic hand coming to rest on her belly. “Yes…yes, I do. I know you will all destroy them,”

Soldier kissed her cheek, and then kissed her stomach before rising up. “Don’t worry! I’ll blow those hippies to kingdom come so quickly, they won’t even know what hit them!”

Zhanna managed to smile at that, and she kissed him in return. “Thank you, my love…”

With that, Soldier went off to join the others, who were busying themselves with readying the base’s defenses.

Outside, Demoman walked around with the pieces to his recent detonator. He was sure this would be enough to protect the base, while also being safe enough for the search party to pass through upon their return. However, it was obvious that not everyone was going to agree with this.

“Tavish?” A familiar voice called out, and Demo stopped what he was doing to turn around.

“Mum? You should stay inside!” Demo advised, running to greet his mother and taking her by the arm. “I told you to stay in your cottage and lock the door!”

Tilly waved him off, reaching into a knit bag slung around her shoulder. “Ach, I’ll be fine. I wanted to bring you something…”

She pulled out a handful of strange, small items. They looked like black ping-pong balls, but when Demo took one into his hand, they felt strangely heavy and metallic.

“What are these?” He asked, brow furrowing as he examined them.

“Handle them carefully, lad!” Tilly advised. “Those are entanglement bombs. They were your Da’s first, I’ve been saving them ever since. You wanna keep some bastards away from this place? Use these! They work fast!”

Demo considered the prospect, staring down at the bombs. “I dunno, mum,” he said after a moment. “If these really are powerful, shouldn’t we save them just in case? This battle might not be so bad!”

“Lad,” Tilly reached up, grabbing her son by the collar of his shirt and tugging him to her level so she could talk to him easier. “With all the shite that’s been happening recently, you are in no position to be worrying about ‘what ifs’! Bombs are meant to be used! I thought you knew that,”

“Aye, of course!” Demo assured, placing his hand over his mother’s ancient one. “Look: if these things are as powerful as you say, I will plant three of them and save the rest. All right?”

Tilly huffed, clearly annoyed, but she agreed. “Fine. But you hold onto them!” She felt around with her hand, finding Demo’s pocket and slipping the rest of the bombs inside. “Ach, when you act like this, you remind me of your uncle Hamish…”

Demo’s eyebrows raised at that. He knew that name: Hamish was his mother’s older brother, who had passed away during her childhood. She almost never mentioned him, so he was rather caught off guard by this comparison.

“Aye?” He smiled a little. “We probably would have gotten on well,”

Tilly just hummed an agreement and patted her son's hand, before turning around and slowly making her way back to her cottage.

“Ye need help?” Demo called after her, watching her hobble away.

“Nah!” She shouted back.

In the workshop, Engineer finally finished getting all of his machinery ready when he heard the familiar clanking footsteps of his father’s metallic legs. He turned around, seeing Fred in the doorway.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Engie commented.

“I ain’t gonna sleep normally again, not after everything,” Fred shrugged, his eyes falling on the robots. “Whatcha got going on here?”

“Well, let me show you,” Dell walked up and ushered his father further into the workshop, pointing out all his creations. “I’m gonna set up these sentries around the outside, and then this thing’s gonna be hooked up,” he gestured to the hydro-pump. “And that should be enough to hold any intruders off!”

Fred nodded, looking over each robot and machine. “Good work, son,” he said after a moment. “These look great! I’m proud of you,”

The warmth of recognition flared in Dell’s heart, and he beamed. “Really, pa? Well…thank you!”

“Yeah,” Fred said quietly, looking at the hydro-pump. He then turned to look at Engie. “Hey,”

“Yeah?” Engineer glanced up, meeting his father’s eyes.

Fred didn’t speak for a moment, as if carefully weighing what he was about to say. “These people who are coming,” he began finally. “Bea’s with them, right?”

Engineer nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“I was just thinking…” Fred took a breath. “Maybe I could talk to her and get her to stop all this nonsense. I mean, she’s doing this because she thinks our whole team is dead, but I’m still alive!”

“I don’t…” Dell started to say, but Fred went on.

“I mean, I know her,” Fred pulled up a footstool and carefully sat down on it. “She ain’t the type to just link up with some random team! She must be so angry, under a lot of stress and loneliness…”

Dell finally found his words. “Pa, she’s trying to kill us! She and her sister both, and their main target is Zhanna — you know, Zhanna? The one who’s pregnant right now?”

“Her sister’s gotta be influencing her,” Fred insisted, and he shuddered. “I remember that lady…terrifying woman.”

“I get she’s your friend, but…” Dell took a long breath. “She’s an enemy.”

“You were my enemy, too,” Fred muttered, looking away.

A pause followed. Finally, Fred said, “Do you need me to do anything?”

“Have you called Ma yet?” Dell wanted to know, going back to his machinery.

Fred huffed. “No. Please, just…don’t bring that up right now,”

Dell turned back around, a glare crossing his face as he looked at his father. “So, you’d rather talk to Bea, the woman who wants us all dead, over the woman you were married to for nearly three decades? Is that what you’re tellin’ me, Pa?”

“Oh, come on,” Fred muttered, making a face.

Dell was so caught up in his irritation that he didn't even hear the footsteps approaching the workshop. “You seem awful focused on talking to her instead of gunning her down like you would anyone else! You know what it's like in this business, you know that there are times to form alliances and times to break them! This is one of those times where you just gotta break whatever loyalty you had to her!”

Fred scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich, considering you’re still pals with the guy that shot me and left me in a coma for almost a full goddamn year!”

“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t—!” Before Dell could finish, the workshop door suddenly slammed shut. He turned around, and his stomach dropped instantly.

It was Zelda. Her hair was a wreck, whatever makeup she had on practically melted off to reveal her rough and aged face, and her entire body was covered in some kind of thick goo. Her eyes glared at both Fred and Dell, sunken in and filled with nothing except a venomous malice.

“Shit!” Fred managed to say, taking in the sight of Zelda.

She stumbled towards the two men, flicking a hand behind her. Instantly, the door could be heard locking.

“How the hell did you get out!?” Dell exclaimed, instantly grabbing his gun and aiming at Zelda.

Zelda came and stopped just inches before Dell’s gun, eyes locked on him. “I’m not sure,” she admitted after a moment. “Somebody let me out…she said she’d free me, in exchange for…something,” she let out a raspy giggle, focusing back on Fred. “You’re still alive? I was hoping you would rot in that hospital…”

“Well, I didn’t!” Fred crossed his arms and approached Zelda, staring her down with a wrath Dell hadn’t seen in him before. “What’s the meaning of all this, hm? What’s the point? You gonna get into a grudge match with everyone on earth and drag Bea down with you?”

Dell’s finger poised near the trigger of the gun, preparing to blow Zelda’s head off. All of the sudden, there was a loud knock at the door.

“What was noise!?” Heavy’s loud voice boomed.

Zelda suddenly seized the wrench from Fred, yanking it from his hand and holding it to his throat. “Tell him everything’s fine,” she hissed to him.

“No can do!” Dell shouted, holding up his gun and firing.

Zelda used a blast of magic to send the gun flying back. It clattered into the wall, and with a screech, Zelda attacked.

Dell yelled in alarm as Zelda jumped on him and threw her hands around his neck, though rather than choking him, she sent a wave of magic through to stun him. As he jolted in pain, laying on the workshop floor frozen, he was aware of Heavy trying to break the door down while yelling to the others for help, all while Fred pulled Zelda off of him in a flurry of movement.

“The Hell’s the matter with you!?” Fred exclaimed, picking Zelda up and throwing her into a pile of scrap metal. “I don’t care what you do to me, but leave my son alone, you freak!”

“Freak?” Zelda repeated, before letting loose another loud laugh and sending the scrap metal flying towards him. Fred managed to dodge the attack, but yelled in pain when the metal scraped up the side of his right arm.

Dell managed to get his arms to move, and in an instant, he spotted the hydro-pump in the corner. Dragging himself to it, he pulled it closer and grabbed the hose, aiming it in Zelda’s direction while turning the pump up to its highest setting.

Zelda stood over Fred, and for a moment, she considered mercy.

“Maybe I should take you with me,” she suggested, eyes focused on his form beneath her, watching as he sat up and stared into her face. “You don’t have to stay with these idiots…besides: Bea would be over the moon to see you…”

Fred stared coldly at her, before stating, “You lied to her. You told her I was dead. You left me to rot in that hospital…if you really think I’m going with you, your head is thicker than I thought!”

Zelda’s eye twitched, and she hummed, “I see,” she brought up her hand, a purple haze beginning to build around it. “Goodbye, Fred—!”

Suddenly, the sound of rushing water filled the room. Before Zelda had any time to react, a harsh jet of water slammed into her at a devastatingly high speed. It blew her across the room so hard that her body collided with the wall, smashing a large hole right beside the door.

Heavy, who was just about to break the door down, was instead greeted by the sight of Zelda smashing directly through the plaster and landing face down on the floor outside the workshop.

There was a long pause as Dell managed to switch the hydro-pump off and stagger to his feet. He ran to where Fred lay, taking a moment to examine him. “You okay!?”

Fred winced at the sight of blood dripping down his arm from the scrap metal, but he nodded, prosthetic legs clacking on the floor as he rose up. “I’m all good, thanks…that’s some invention you got there!” He gestured to the hydro-pump, managing a slight laugh.

Heavy bent over to look at Zelda, assuming such a blast would have killed her, but he froze instantly.

“She is not dead,” he called out to Fred and Dell, getting their attention.

“What?” Dell asked, sure Heavy was mistaken. He stepped through the fresh hole in the wall, coming to meet Heavy beside Zelda’s crumpled form. “But that ain’t possible! She—!”

Before he could finish, Zelda suddenly rose back up and stood, as if she were being controlled like a puppet. She let out another laugh, lips parting into a twisted grin.

“You’re too late!” She exclaimed, though her voice suddenly sounded off. “My revenge is in motion! Merasmus’s stupidity allowed this!”

Dell tensed up, taking a step back. “The hell are you talking about!?”

“I met her,” Zelda went on, her eyes going blank. “Merasmus should not have used his own magic to seal me! He was a fool! The Kingpin’s mind found mine, and she made a deal with me…”

Without warning, Zelda ripped the front of her dress open, revealing what looked like a black thorn buried deep within the center of her chest.

The commotion brought Medic rushing out of his office, but he skidded to a stop just as his eyes landed on the sight of the thorn. “Oh, God, no!”

Outside, rain began pouring hard. The base was in Bea’s sight, and she thumbed her weapon with a tight hand as she walked alongside this group of younger agents. She didn’t particularly care for these people — she’d hoped maybe the dynamic would be more friendly, but they barely looked at her and seemed more interested in getting information from her than anything else.

Of course, of course that was how it was, and she felt silly for thinking this was some kind of new team. Nothing could replace what she’d lost…or, rather, what being brought back into the world of the living had stripped from her. It was strange, she realized as she nodded to the people alongside her to affirm that this was indeed the right place. It was strange how she did not remember being in the afterlife…it all felt like a distant memory, a dream, something once so vivid but now forgotten. Had she even been in an afterlife?

“How do we get in?” A female agent named Agent Yancy asked Bea, her tone sharp and business-like.

Bea kept her distance from the base, standing just on the threshold. “Usually there’s a backdoor,” she confirmed after a moment. “But the Administrator keeps cameras everywhere. Chances are, we’ve already been spotted by her,”

Agent Yancy turned to a male agent standing by, and she gestured to the base. “Jones! Try walking up there, but be careful!”

Agent Jones gave a nod, and with his gun in hand, he approached the base. What happened next happened very quickly: there was a sudden commotion from the base, which caused Jones to pause and look towards the building in confusion. His foot absently touched a nearby bush, and within seconds, a loud explosion rang out.

Bea could only blink in shock as she realized Agent Jones had seemingly evaporated, and beside her, Agent Yancy shrieked.

“They’ve planted bombs!” She exclaimed, and then turned to the rest of her bewildered team in a frenzy. “Quickly, get on your protective boots and—!”

Out of nowhere, a blast of light knocked Yancy to her knees, and a voice boomed, “Fools! Leave, now!”

Bea looked up, and she grit her teeth in rage at the sight of Merasmus’s form approaching. “Shit!”

Beside Merasmus, Sniper looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Really? ‘Leave now’? That’s the most intimidating thing you could think of to say?”

“Silence!” Merasmus hissed at him, before looking back to the group of agents. “This ends now!”

“You’re right, it does!” Bea positioned her gun, eyes fixated on the wizard.

The rest of the search party was now present, and it looked as though things were about to reach a conclusion right there, outside of the base. However, one of the base windows suddenly opened, and Demoman shouted, “Merasmus! We need help!”

“In a moment, we are going to kill these mortals!” Merasmus shouted back at him, raising his staff up.

Soldier soon appeared over Demo’s shoulder, shouting, “Hello, Merasmus! The witch lady is destroying everything, Medic says she has a demon thorn in her!”

Merasmus’s face dropped, and he lowered the staff, eyes going wide. “What!?”

“Dude, she’s right there! Kill her or I will!” Scout prodded Merasmus with one hand, the other gripping his gun as he gestured towards Bea.

“Oh, I’d like to see you try—!” Bea started to say, only to freeze when Merasmus sprinted towards the base. “Where are you going!?”

“Your sister is Corrupted! I don’t know how, but she is!” Merasmus shouted back at her as he ran, only to set off one of the bombs. It didn’t have the same effect it would on a mortal, but it blasted him against the building and shattered one of the windows.

“Shite! Uh…sorry about that!” Demo shouted down at him from the window.

Not knowing what else to do, most of the agents trailed after Merasmus, following him as he managed to get back on his feet and hop through the window he’d broken. Bea followed suit, heart pounding, although she didn’t entirely know what was going on.

Agent Yancy stood behind, blinking in confusion. “What— what’s going on!?”

Spy just put his hand on her shoulder, advising, “You should leave, madam, let us handle this!”

Enraged, Yancy whirled towards him and pressed her gun into his chest, exclaiming, “No way in hell! One of your bombs just got a teammate of mine killed, and—!”

Before she could finish, Bronislava walked up behind her and punched her in the back of the head. Yancy dropped like a sack of potatoes, and Spy sighed. “Thank you.”

“Yes,” was all Bronislava said, before she turned around and ran for the base.

The others trailed after her, with Sniper shouting out the reminder, “Watch for the bombs, watch for the bombs!”

Merasmus made her way through the base in a daze, pushing past the agents and following the sound of the shouting and breaking glass. Finally, she came to the safe room where she knew Zhanna was being held, only to see Heavy, Soldier, Sonya, Yana, Demoman and Medic standing before the door fending Zelda off.

Zelda’s eyes were blank and glazed over, yet her body moved as though it had a mind of its own. She lunged for Soldier, hissing, but Soldier grabbed her by the hand and twisted her neck until it snapped.

However, when Zelda simply popped her neck back into place and let out a horrible shrieking laugh, Soldier shouted, “Why won’t you die!?” Judging by how warped Zelda’s neck looked, Soldier had clearly attempted this several times already.

“Because she’s been taken over by The Corrupt!” Merasmus shouted, digging around in her pocket. “The dark magic is so powerful, it keeps her body alive for as long as it can!” He pulled out a gold pocket watch and waved it around, getting Zelda’s attention. As Zelda stumbled towards him, Merasmus took a moment to look her up and down.

“Soon, you won’t even appear human,” he snarled in disgust, shaking his head. “How on earth did you get Corrupted when I sealed the Corrupt away!?”

Zelda let out another cackle, her head tipping back as a bit of blood dripped down her chin. “Your magic created a bridge, dear wizard,” The voice she spoke with was not her own, but rather the eerily familiar voice of the Kingpin. “I sensed Zelda and invited her into the Hivemind…” she looked back up at Merasmus, a look of melancholic intensity crossing her features. “This woman…the pain she’s in is immense. I felt it all, I saw her memories, how she gave up her childhood to protect her sister, how it was snatched away from her…she deserves her revenge. The broken are trapped in a miserable existence, crying out for help that never comes. I free them from their suffering. Now, I ask you, who deserves a happier fate than the woman who has suffered unending agony? Who deserves revenge more than her?”

Standing before the door, holding one of her son’s guns in her hand, Sonya blurted out, “You will not kill my daughter! I do not care what happened in this woman’s past, my children are everything! You do not scare me, I will rip the jaws from demons before you lay a hand on my child!”

Zelda’s head seemingly turned all the way around to look at Sonya. “Then you will be the first to die!”

“You will have to kill me first!” Yana roared, stepping in front of her mother.

“Sister, stop!” Heavy quickly put his hand on Yana’s shoulder, attempting to pull her back.

“Zelda!?” Bea’s voice carried over the sound of the fray, getting the possessed woman’s attention.

Bea stood in the hallway, staring at Zelda’s harrowing new appearance. Finally, she managed to ask, “What…happened!?”

“She gave her soul up to the Corrupt, just to get revenge over what happened to you!” Merasmus shouted back at Bea. “Now you’ll be lucky if you ever get the original version of your sister back— she’s nothing more than a puppet for the Kingpin!”

“That’s not true!” Zelda’s voice returned, and she stumbled towards Bea. “I did this for us…for you!”

Disturbed, Bea stepped back when Zelda tried to touch her arm, and Heavy growled out, “You are so stupid…”

“Yes,” Merasmus agreed, reaching for his staff. “Now I’m going to have to send her to the cave with the rest of the Corrupt!”

Zelda’s head snapped back around again, and she grinned a wide grin at Merasmus. “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” the Kingpin’s voice spoke up this time. “You see, now that I have another Corrupted one on the outside, we will escape and do unto this world all that was done to us…and your darling daughter will join us!”

Merasmus’s face paled, and he shook his head, gripping his staff. “No…no! We will not let you!”

A rumbling, almost like thunder, radiated in the distance. Demo ran to the window and looked outside, his heart dropping when he noticed the dark clouds gathering in the direction of Coldwater Cave. These were not storm clouds, and in a panic, Demo looked back to the others. “We have a problem! Oh, god, we have a bloody problem!”

#FINALLYYY HERE WE GO #I’m so happy I finished this today HRGRHGRH #tf2 #tf2 zhanna #tf2 soldier #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 demoman #tf2 demo’s mom #tfc engineer #tf2 engineer #tf2 ocs #tfc pyro #tf2 merasmus #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 bronislava #tf2 yana #tf2 heavy’s mama #is that everyone #I hope it is #tf2 fanfic #my writing

[imalemonthatrants]

Struggling with writer's block, but here's a Lawzo I wrote with a random prompt generator in an attempt to break my writer's block.

Prompt: The Professor (Write about a situation where person A is being taught something by person B in an interesting way)

I just want to note that this is no way a realistic or advisable way to help others sleep. Made purely because I'm a mess at the current moment.

Law was a doctor, so of course he knew that proper rest was important for optimal performance. He also knew the suggestions to achieve a better night's sleep. And from experience, not as a doctor, he knew that sometimes, there was not a single thing he could do to be able to rest for even a single second.

He had tried all the non-medicated ways there were. Don't read anything an hour before bed. Leave bed usage for sleeping only. Drink a glass of warm milk an hour before bed. If unable to sleep, get up and walk a bit before resting once more. Count sheep. Sleep in pure darkness. And as told by someone deeply important to him, sleep in pure silence.

None of it worked. Everything he did left him alone to his thoughts. Let the fear and the worries and the planning consume his mind, racing with the what-ifs and the counteractions to deal with potential, terrible ends. Because as a person who inherited the name of D, tragedy always seemed to follow him.

It doesn't help that the trip to Wano was longer than Law had wanted, along with several extra passengers that made the Polar Tang much more tighter than it needed to be. They needed to surface to replenish for air more often, meaning they were more likely to be spotted by marines and that they were traveling slower than Law would like. Much slower.

The lack of sleep was extremely evident to both his crewmates and his guests by the third day. If the horrifying sight of his dark, heavy circles under his eyes weren't enough to let them know, the way he snapped at anyone who so much as breathed in his presence would probably do the trick. By the fourth day, not a single person tried to stay within the same room as him. Law figured that would be the case for the entirety of the trip or until he could bring himself to rest for even just 20 minutes.

Until a certain, pesky guest that was much too similar to his captain came wandering into his private room. During night hours. Roronoa Zoro, potential vice captain and first mate of the Strawhat crew, had the fucking audacity to walk into his private quarters, slamming open the metal door and stomping in like he owned the fucking place.

"What the fuck?" Law hissed. It was rougher than he expected of himself, his voice heavy with obvious exhaustion between the anger.

"Hey Torao." Zoro said.

As Law had long adjusted to the darkness of his room, he watched the intruder fumble into his room, tripping over piles of books and stomping over sheets of plans he had written up and hadn't had the time to organize or hang up. The younger swordsman stopped what seemed like mere inches away from his bed.

"Do you know what fucking time it is?" Law snapped.

He watched Zoro shrug before the man reached out, hands searching and latching onto the edges of his small, but comfortable mattress.

"Dunno," Zoro answered, "But it's not like you'd be sleeping anyways."

The hands traced the edges of the bed, fingers skimming past him from where he rested on the other corner of the bed. Law opened his mouth to deny the man's accusations, to lie and say he indeed was sleeping until he so rudely entered. And then Zoro started climbing onto his bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Law snarled, arms flying up to shove the man. Zoro, infuriatingly enough, doesn't even budge. Instead, the younger swordsman easily leaned into his hands, using them as a guide to crawl into his bed and smash him between him and the cold, metal wall.

Zoro snorted, "I'm going to sleep."

He was frozen for a moment, because the absolute certainty in the idiot's voice had him stunned. It was only when Zoro's hands moved from his wrists to slowly encasing around him did Law finally snap, drawing the powers of his devil fruit to shambles this arrogant bastard away. The bubble popped away from existence before it could even encase the man as a wave of dizziness hit him, twisting reality and forcing him to shut his eyes to prevent himself from suddenly throwing up.

Not that he would do anything but dry heave. He hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning.

It took a moment for the spinning to stop, and when reality became grounded once more, he was panting heavily, fingers tightly clasped into the coat of his unwelcomed bedmate. At some point, Zoro had shifted himself to wrap his arms around him, their legs intertwined. His own arm, the one that had recovered from being cut off, was awkwardly pinned between their bodies.

"You back?" Zoro hummed.

"Get the fuck out." Law said, pushing at the unmoving boulder.

"Nah, it's pretty comfortable here." Zoro said. "Dark and quiet."

Law squeezed his eyes tightly, shoving with what little energy he had. His efforts were in vain, as Zoro cheekily pressed himself closer.

"Why are you doing this?" Law asked, frustration seeping into his voice.

"Helping you sleep."

Law wanted to laugh at the absurdity.

"Oh yeah?" Law sneered. "And how are you doing that?"

"Giving you a sleeping buddy." Zoro said. The patience in the man's voice infuriated him enough for him to get enough energy to shove at the man again.

"A sleeping buddy is not a practical solution for aiding someone's sleep." Law said.

"You've tried it?" Zoro asked.

"Yes." And then he snapped his jaw shut as the feeling of humiliation flooded his senses. Because knowing that this bastard knew of his stupid, inability to do something as simple as sleep and the fact that he had tried every method he had come across and still fail at something so simple was downright an embarrassment.

"Okay then." Zoro said, not budging at all. "What's keeping you up?"

"You." Law said outright.

Zoro snorted, "Okay. What else?"

Law frowned, silent for a moment. Zoro doesn't say anything else.

"Nothing. I just can't sleep." Law said eventually. He expected Zoro to had fallen asleep by then, as the man simply fell asleep whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted.

"Are you thinking?" Zoro asked, startling him.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Then don't." Zoro said, as if it were that simple.

"I can't just turn off my brain." Law growled.

"Yes, you can." Zoro said, assuredly.

"No, I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"That's not how the human body works!" Law snapped.

Zoro chuckled, irritating him even more, "Not like that."

"What the hell do you mean?" Law growled.

"Clear your thoughts. Meditate a bit." Zoro said.

"That doesn't work." Law snapped.

"Just do it."

Law was tempted to grumble, but let his eyes close, trying to focus on nothing.

"Not like that." Zoro said instantly. "Focus on your breathing. Three seconds in, six seconds out."

Breathe in.

1, 2, 3.

Breathe out.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

Law does it again.

Breathe in, 1, 2, 3.

Breathe out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

One more week until they arrive in Wano.

Breathe in. 1, 2, 3.

7 days.

Breathe out.

Might be longer because they'll need to surface for oxygen.

1, 2, 3.

The strawhats were going through their supplies as much as his crew of twenty was, so they'll have to find a safe and discreet island to stop at.

4, 5, 6.

Luffy wasn't even with them.

1, 2.

The idiot captain was going to provoke the other yonko into coming as well.

1, 2.

Or perhaps Luffy's miracle power was used up and he won't-

"You're not focusing." Zoro said, pulling him from his thoughts.

"I was." Law said, desperately. "I am."

He was focusing on what was important. On what everyone else wasn't bothering to think about. Because he was surrounded by a bunch of carefree idiots that are taking the luck a little too seriously simply because their captain had a couple of miracles happen.

"It'll be fine." Zoro said, calmly. As if he knew what was going through Law's head. It made him want to open up a room and slice this bastard apart.

"And how do you know that?" Law snapped. "Your captain fucked off to mess with another Yonko! We've already got one Yonko to deal with. He's going to die before we can deal with our first one!"

"He won't." Zoro said, assuredly.

"You don't know that!"

"I do." Zoro said, with such certainty that Law wanted to tear this man apart. "And you've seen it. His miracles. Luffy will come to Wano."

"Those miracles did him so well at Marineford." Law snapped. And then shut up because he wasn't supposed to go there and he was currently weakened with lack of sleep and recovering from his failed revenge against that bastard and Zoro had him in his arms and could so easily tear apart.

But Zoro doesn't do anything like that.

"That was different." Zoro said, his voice a whisper.

Law should drop the subject. Should let the place fall into silence and ignore the man. Let the man sleep here for the night and let himself fail to get any sort of rest as atonement for his shitty attitude at that moment. But he doesn't. Because even then, Zoro sounded so confident through the pain.

And so he asked, "How?"

"Because Luffy has our crew." Zoro said. "Even with half, Luffy will make it out."

Law was silent.

"And with all of us at Wano, we'll win." Zoro continued.

"How are you so sure?" Law asked quietly, when Zoro doesn't continue any further.

"What good would it be to not be?" Zoro asked in return. "If I can't trust my captain and my crewmates, how can I stand to stay?" When Zoro noticed that he didn't continue, he added, "Breathe."

Breathe in.

1, 2, 3.

"Right now, we're a week or two away from Wano." Zoro murmured.

Breathe out.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

"The only thing we can prepare is ourselves."

Breathe in.

1, 2, 3.

"And the only way we can prepare right now is to breathe."

Breathe in.

1, 2, 3.

Breathe out.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Breathe in.

As much as he hated admit it, Zoro was right.

1, 2, 3.

Breathe out.

All the plans for all the potential scenarios would go to waste if none of them happened.

…4, 5, 6.

A waste of his energy.

In. 1, 2, 3.

His time.

Out… 4, 5, 6.

A waste of his breath.

Breathe in. 1, 2, 3.

"Zoro-ya…" Law called out. Exhaustion was heavy, but the throes of sleep were beginning to drag him under.

A snore answered him.

Breathe out… 4, 5, 6.

"Good night."

And finally, finally, with the slow, steady heartbeat that pulsed underneath his fingertips, the rhythmic sounds of Zoro's breathing occasionally broken by a snore, and the mildly stifling, uncomfortable heat that radiated off the other man, Law fell asleep.

Corazon was wrong about one thing. Silence didn't always help with sleep. Sometimes, the sound of a reliable person by your side was much more helpful.

End

So what's the writer's block fix for when you do have tons of ideas you wanna bring to life, but the moment you do, it comes out as shit and not the way you envision it, so you're left scrapping and redesigning your work over and over again, but nothing is right and you wanna cry because you just wanna write what you see, but you can't?

I'm in utter agony right now.

And by the way, yes I know that's not how reality works with anxiety and sleep. I too am an anxious, sleepless mess most days than not.

And yes, this drabble came out completely different from what I wanted (making it a subpar write for me). There were so many things I wanted to add that made the thing not flow right and it ended like this. My structured fics cannot survive because I can't get the things I want to happen without proper structural flow. Help. Ugh. End rant.

#writer's block got me in a chokehold. #lawzo #one piece #roronoa zoro #trafalgar d water law #random prompt drabble #someone help #non-consensual intimacy

[lostonehero]

The homoerotic nature of sharing a body has drained this chapter so it ends suddenly

That is all

Henry, if he wasn't so used to the haunted animotronics around him, would have thought the old springlock suit finally gave out, as it laid sprawled out on the ground, twisted out of shape. What surprise him was the human familiar figure, a version stuck in the age he died in floating crossed, legged above the rusted monstrosity. Straining his eyes, Henry could see white chains connecting his old friend to the scrap metal.

Henry pushed back the gnawing fear in his mind since this was during the day. He just spent too much time here. That phrase he repeated to himself ignoring the fact he knows he's on deaths door from his age alone.

Henry sighs, watching his old friend deep in thought. William still did do the same things when he was thinking when they were kids back in college. That was a lifetime and many bad decisions ago.

His attention is drawn to the many patrons of the museum. He was happy, and business was booming. Granted, William was always better at crunching the numbers and keeping them afloat.

He shook his head. He had to be in the moment no use in dwelling on what ifs. He did promise to look at the police reports for William's sake. He had to ask his nephew how he stayed so young, well looked so young, his eyes were haunted beyond his years.

Maybe he should allow himself to be selfish, just this once. He wasn't ready to die yet, and maybe he could still put up a good fight in his old bones. At least until he was sure Micheal was fine.

...

Henry frowns at the delay on his desk. His lovely stockholders have pushed back the night opening to October, six months away from his original opening date, excuses about how a haunted attraction will make the nighttime worth it. He sighs, pushing the paper away from him. At least they approved it. He hated having to get permission for his own work to open.

Henry checked his phone again, and he frowns, looking at time. It's been two days only two days since Micheal was here, two days since he thought Micheal was an imposter, two days since... he frowned.

He still hasn't gotten the reports for William. He wasn't ready himself to read them himself. How could William be ok. They both saw how much Micheal was destroyed.

Henry sighs, turning his attention to the knock on his door. The museum was open, and his workers knew only to get him for emergencies or repairs. "Well, don't just knock on my door all day."

A blonde hair man enters with one of his guards behind him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Emily he insisted that he come see you immediately." Susan was her name. She was one of his older guards, ex military, he believes.

Henry's annoyed expression melted into a smile. "Ah yes, Susan. That's Jeremy he was supposed to start next week with Micheal for the night shift. Well, you know how the shareholders are."

Susan nods. "Of course, next time, have your security pass."

Jeremy waves as she leaves.

Henry hums. "Forgive her. She has become protective over me. Jeremy, what brings you here?" Where's Micheal remains unsaid as he motions for a chair opposite his desk.

Jeremy smiles and sits, shutting the door behind him. "It's lively for being the daytime as well." He pauses. "Micheal is uh talking to some, er.... people." He waves his hands and shifts in his seat.

"Is everything ok?" Henry raises his brow.

"I'm fine, everything is fine, just dunno I just wanted... no, not the right phrase. I have to talk to you." Jeremy sighs. "It's about Micheal."

Henry narrows his eyes. "What about him?"

Jeremy bites his lip and stares at his hands. "Well, I uh... he's been through a lot, and I uh wasted to make sure that you wouldn't leave when he finally opened up."

Henry's face softens. "Jeremy, I helped raise that boy, I won't just abandon him unless my old heart gives out, then I can't really help in the matter." Jeremy likes dark humor, right? He was cheering Micheal up with that.

Jeremy smiles and looks up. "I know I don't even know everything. You can help fill in some blanks, too... but I uh just don't want Micheal to lose support."

Henry gets up and walks over to Jeremy, placing his hand on the young adult shoulder. "You truly care for my nephew, don't you?"

"I do, sir." Jeremy looks up from his seat.

"Now you don't have to tell me anything, but I want you to know that I will not hurt Micheal." Henry sighs, clutching his cane. "He's been through too much for that."

Jeremy nods. "He asked me not to say anything about anything yaknow...."

"That's ok, I'm glad you respect my nephew."

"Could you show me around? Micheal has told me a bit, and I know I used to work for you, but I want to know about..."

"Yes, I can give you a personal tour, Jeremy. It won't nearly be as eventful as the nighttime, but it will be informative." Henry smiles and opens the door. "Amd it's an excuse to leave this stuffy office. I never understood how William liked them."

....

Jeremy stops by springtrap, staring into the display. "Does it hurt?"

"A springlock failure is disastrous and extremely painful. There is almost no chance of survival, but the springs lock keep pressure, making the pain last until your final breath." He pauses. "But these were prototypes and used rarely before we figured out a more stable animotronics that didn't need a human behind it."

Jeremy shakes his head. "The chains, do they hurt him?"

Henry swallows. "What?"

Jeremy points to above the suit, where William is floating above springtrap, Lizzie is leaning against him, and Evan is in his lap.

Henry frowns. "How can you..."

"See them?" Jeremy hums, placing his hand against the glass. "I mean, I was technically dead for a bit in the hospital. I think Micheal can see them too, but he wasn't really all here when we first visited."

Henry frowns, tearing his eyes away from the scene. "I never asked him, I don't think he realizes we can see him during the day."

"Most don't." Jeremy says, humming. "So, did you two ever master the springlock suit?"

Henry blinks at the sudden change of topic. "Uh, I think springtrap is the perfect answer on how that went."

"Oh... Micheal said he wore one back in Circus Baby's." Jeremy blinks, changing his attention to the older style four. "Hey, where did you get the idea for the four of them?"

Henry opens his mouth and then closes it, Micheal wore a springlock suit? The only other one was an even earlier version, even more dangerous. It was more so a test to see how far they could test it. He didn't even think William kept it.

"Henry?" Jeremy tilts his head blonde hair moving to reveal more of his scar.

"Right, what was the question?" Henry bites his lip, focusing on Jeremy.

"The original four, how did you decide the animals?"

Henry smiles. "Now that takes me back, oh Charlie loves this story..."

Jeremy stops checking his phone. "Oh, good news."

Henry pauses, looking back. "Ah, what's the news?"

"Micheal is home. Everything went well." Jeremy pauses. "He wants to know if next week is ok to come at night. He wants to see you and his father."

Henry perks up. "Of course, you two are always welcome."

"Can we, can we continue this tour? I told Micheal I'm here, and I wanted to hear more."

Henry nods. "Of course, it's been a while since I've done the full tour. Come on, I think we're at the fun time animotronics."

.....

The night grew still. Even inside the museum, everything seemed off, out of place. Lizzie wasn't playing the piano music, and Evan's normal static was absent. It was as if everyone held their breath, waiting for something to happen.

Henry is in the center of it all holding a neutral look as he sat on his bench on his laptop. The tapping of the keys was the only thing making sound in this haunted place.

William as gently as he could put his hand on his glass. "Well?"

Henry shuts the computer, color draining from his pale complexion. "I only saw one picture, I can't go further."

William pauses. "Henry?"

"No, William, I can't." Henry bites his lip and covers his face. "Micheal was the first picture."

"Micheal? Henry, please, that's my son. I have to know."

Henry is shaking. He chokes out a strangled sob. The laptop crashes to the ground as Henry hugs his chest sobbing.

William presses what his face has become to the glass. "Henry..."

Henry can't talk. He hasn't broken down this bad since he lost Charlie. It was one photo, and it sent him over the edge.

William slid down the glass onto the floor. He wanted no need to comfort Henry. The glass was in the way. His death trap of a springlock suit was in his way, and his cold corpse was in the way. He couldn't help his partner anymore then he could help himself.

.....

Henry left without a word. He left his laptop on the ground. William stared at the futuristic piece of technology. The internet wasn't really a thing when he had working lungs. Just the sum of all human knowledge at the tip of your fingers.

He blinked, and the laptop that's what Henry called it was in his enclosure. A portable computer, imagine if they had them before. He shooks away those thoughts. Big cumbersome animotronics hands weren't made to handle delicate technology, but he had enough influence over his ghostly form to crack it open enough that he could push it open with his giant hands.

Password.

William huffed, of course, this marvelous machine would have protection. Henry was smart, and he didn't expect anything less from his better half.

William, for the most part, wasn't privy to anything of this modern world. He was stuck in a machine costume from a bygone era, pushed into terrible things from his puppeteering wife. She always knew how to control him.

Anger, he had to control his anger. He could just as easily ruin the one chance he had to outside information. One chance to see what had destroyed his partner. He took a breath for his rotted lungs and thought of meaningful dates, places, ideas, anything that Henry would use to open the gateway into his personal access to all of human knowledge.

Was there a limit on how many he could try? Did capital letters count differently than lowercase? What would be important enough to Henry to use as a password?

William huffed. He didn't have a lot of time. Once the morning shift comes, everything in his enclosure that isn't permitted will be swiftly removed and gone through. He knew the procedure by now.

A thought crossed his mind, and without realizing it, he was typing. He had little to no control over his powers, unlike the children around him. He was trapped to this rusted scrap heap and never had the chance to even see what he could do.

William blinks, and it worked. He swallows rising emotion in his shredded throat. Henry that sentimental fool. It wasn't a surprise that William would melt if Henry just....

William slammed the laptop shut, shattering the complex machines. He kept slamming his hand against the machine until it was nothing but a pile of broken parts. He let out a strangled scream, and the museum seemed to silence itself.

"Nobody is allowed, no one." He shouts, voice twisted with the audio glitching. "Don't look. Don't touch. Don't come near me."

Twisted glitches audio turned into strangled cries of anguish, as every camera in the museum broke down one by one.

...

Henry gives a glance to William. The broken laptop and the pieces that are still scattered around William remain unspoken.

William's springlock suit remains crumpled on the ground, Henry watches as William struggles against the chains that bind him. He's been at it ever since he saw the photos.

The cameras haven't been touched, the electrician has tried, but a new replacement breaks almost immediately like something is purposely not letting them work.

Henry warns them to let the spirits rest before trying. Nobody believes him. They try at night, and the repairmen run out faces paler than a drop of white paint.

Back to Henry, he sits on the bench, watching his old partner struggle against his chains. The new electronics in the building have all cesed functions due to William, but Henry can't be mad. They are both trapped, and the children seem to have hidden themselves in their own machines. No child likes to see an adult upset.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #immortal micheal afton #micheal afton #henry emily #william afton

[baconcolacan]

Hi! First off, I hope you are doing well ^u^

Thank you for the Kings Crossing sequel, it was well written as always and got me thinking about these two’s dynamic a bit more. Specifically considering the scene where they discussed the “what ifs” (I’m leaving it ambiguous so people have to read your amazing work).

In addition to that pondering, I understand you have another version of these two where they are in love and have a son.

So, if you don’t mind me asking, I am curious how you would approach this dynamic from an alpha/beta/omega perspective.

How would an alpha Tord and omega Tom work in your eyes? (I’m assuming Tord is an alpha because of his possessive nature and the fact you always write him as a top)

Thank you for your time and I’m highly intrigued in your response. Regardless of what you do, have a good day and keep up the great work!

Ooooh, abo, hmmm yeah I'm familiar with this fanfic trope. Though back then it was just called mpreg. Tbh, I dunno where this trope came from actually, it just started popping up?? Hmmm.

I'll be talking about this trope below the line, so avert your eyes if you do not like this for any reason, AND since this trope deals with some more sexual subjects, just to be safe, I'm begging that minors do not read below the line please. Thanks!

First off! Hey thank you anon! ^^ I'm really glad you like the sequel to KC! I'm actually thinking about expanding on that universe a bit more, as the way I present the world and how I write about it is actually somewhat experimental! KC's writing style is wildly different from my usual forms! So I'm happy to know that it's liked!

Now on to the ABOtopic!

Okay so, personally, I actually find this trope a bit curious, and somewhat interesting?? I'm aware that this trope sort of caters to a more animalistic type of horny writing (haha) which I can somewhat understand! I'm a pretty vanilla guy when it comes to sexuality, but being a repressed catholic, I can get why people are into some wild and hard kinky sex.

(especially considering my status as an asexual- although sex-favorable- man. Wanna know a secret?? I have SO MUCH TROUBLE writing smut. KC is something of a hard labor, as it deals with Tom and Tord's relationship with each other in a lot of ways especially in the sexual sense where most inhibitions are down, and passion is present in its purest form. Which I honestly, honestly, struggle to portray as my interest in sex is so so LOW, BUT I understand the feelings behind the physical act at least.)

ABO as I understand it, and from what I've seen personally, is a bit more geared towards porn for porn's sake, and caters to specific kinks like soul-bonding, animalistic sex and tendencies, breeding, and pregnancy. I also understand that it's somewhat fetish-y (?) but I won't talk about that for now.

Considering what I said above (with my perspective as an ace dude), I may approach this trope differently, as from where I stand, this trope feels like it could be very very intense when it comes to feelings and passion, which I tend to enjoy a lot when I engage with literature, sexual or otherwise. As well as the added soul-bond aspect, or rather, 'fated mate'/'perfect mate' part as who doesn't love soulmates?? Hahaha, coupled with some really cute animalistic behaviors.

So lets see, if I made use of this trope, first off, I think in a world like this, majority of people would be intersex, not like how intersex works in our world at least where one part is more developed than the other, but both are working I guess? To me that makes sense at least, considering the biologies present.

So, I suppose the one thing that would divide the secondary genders is just which parts are more virile/fertile. So Alphas are more virile, Betas are a perfect and balanced combo of both, and Omegas are more fertile.

Personally, I would have tagged Tom as a Beta while Tord is an Alpha but! Since you asked how I'd write Tom as an Omega I'll go with that!

If you've seen my writings with the two, my most favourable interpretations of them actually reside in the Stay AU, so I'll go off those characteristics as a base!

Omega Tom I think would be very coy, he's aware of how he attracts Alphas and Betas, even fellow Omegas. He'd be the type to bat his eyes and let his touches linger, but it's mostly a ruse to get something he wants. In reality, he doesn't have a lot of interest in romantic relationships in general.

Alpha Tord, I would still characterise him as this idiot with a lot of puffed up machismo. He'd be throwing his second gender around, always trying to be top dog and such. He reeks of typical Alpha aggressiveness and domination, and would snarl and snap at anybody who he feels might be competition. Which leads to him butting heads with Edd a lot I guess, since they both wanna be pack head, lmao.

When he meets Tom though, LETS GO LOSER BEHAVIOR!!!

He'll do that thing most battling males do, be aggressive, secure territory, give their desired mate "presents", and fight off competitors. None of it impresses Tom though, and would only make him turn his head and roll his eyes, since Tord is acting so typically Alpha.

This might cow Tord a bit, and maybe frustrate him too (sadly triggering more outside aggression), as none of his courting is impressing his desired mate, which could lead to a bad aggression fight with Edd.

Tom and Matt would manage to pull them apart, which of course would lead to Tom reaming into Tord for being so STUPID and bullheaded and what the fuck were you thinking starting an Alpha fight?!

Tord would of course be ashamed, for one doing this to Edd who was his friend and packmate, and two probably afraid that his desired mate would outright reject him now. So he just, wilts I guess, full on sad and remorseful, puppy dog eyes, nonexistent tail between his legs while Tom shouts at him.

Turns out, he should just stop trying to be macho and Tom will happily start reciprocating his courting.

So I guess, in this dynamic, I would sort of beat Tord down a little bit before Tom starts responding to his courting?? HAHAHA IDK??

As for the sexual parts, sure I can write Tom more submissive, but Tord has to earn his submission, Tom has to trust that he wont take advantage of him when he hands over his control. And of course, sex wise, I think he'd like him to be rough, takes the edge of y'know??

For child rearing, I'm not so sure Tom would be interested in carrying a kid?? I never really pegged him as somebody who's really interested in having kids I guess?? He's perfectly capable of carrying but idk?? If anything, they'll just end up adopting AK again.

Though it could be cute if AK was their biological son too?? Eeee babie, lil puppy AK <3

SO...YEAH? SORRY I DUNNO IF THIS WAS WHAT YOU WANTED HAHAHAHAHAHA

#asks #anonymous #long post #abo verse #I talk about my perspective and how I'd approach that verse here lol #IM SORRY?? I RLLY DUNNO IF THIS WAS WHAT YOU WANTED #I would KINDA portray something similar in Stay since Tom is a Hellhound #so??? idk here you go lol

[bashfulboy]

DAY 30 : BEACH HUT CONFESSIONAL 

who did you share a bed with last night? how did you sleep?

“i slept alone. it wasn’t too bad. i feel like...i don’t want to sleep in the same bed with someone unless i’m sure i really like them and could like...i dunno, see myself going back to the main villa with them. doing anything else feels like i’m leading them on in a way. and i don’t wanna do that. so i’ll just sleep outside.” 

are you getting on with any of the bombshells? who’s at the top of your list?

“flirting with mali was fun. but also...weird? like, i love acting but when the lines are so blurred it can feel kind of weird because i was me but i wasn’t me. adela is nice too. i haven’t really gotten to know the others beyond like simple conversations and events. but phoebe seems really nice and so does miles. i guess i would say...” 

do you see yourself starting to focus on one person or are you still exploring ?

“i think i’m still open to exploring. i am the kind of person who likes to take things slow and really get to know a person on like a real level but i also...i’m always open to new experiences and being surprised.” 

who did you vote for the hideaway? why?

”i think i voted for marcus? i just thought the man could use a win, you know. he went through a lot with everything that happened before casa so i just feel like...if i can help, i dunno, help him, i should.”

what do you think is going on in the other villa?

”i’d rather focus on what i know is happening.” a nonanswer spoken like a true actor with media training because the truth is, he has no fucking idea what’s happening in the other villa and he’s scared to think about it. “like why bother with what ifs when i can focus on the present. today is a gift, that’s why it’s called the present. that’s what i’d rather focus on, today.”

what do you think the other villa would think of your actions in casa so far?

“i mean, i don’t think they’d be too surprised? i feel like i’m a pretty consistent person.” whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is anyone’s guess.

[lleldey]

„bUt nOt aLL of meN aRe the sAmE” yeah maybe not but fcking most of them and as a woman you experience things like that on a daily basis and it’s so scary because you can never be too comfortable with a man and always be on guard…it’s so sad and makes me so mad

i’m so sorry for what happened to you and your friend so i’m glad you both got out of there safely 😔

-🐇

Hi!! First off, thank you for reading my babbling rant, it was a lot, but I’m grateful you took the time to not only read it but respond 🥲

I feel everything you wrote. It’s truly insane. I know that nowadays basically everything surrounding sexism and even more so feminism is thought as a joke, but genuinely these past two months have thought me how important these subjects are

You are right, it is scary being a woman, like genuinely scary. The hundred different what-ifs and escape plans one has to keep just to interact with a man—

Dunno if whatever higher power is trying to teach me a lesson for the past two months, but recently I asked some of my female and male acquaintances/friends a simple question - do they think that sexism still exists. One group said no or very minimally, the other said they see it everyday. Don’t think it’s necessary to say who said what.

The fact they don’t even see it as a possibility is mind blowing. I know that female and male brains function a bit differently but still, how ignorant one must be to completely overlook everything that’s going on and deem it normal? 🥲

Ha, another thing I came across; friends boyfriend thought me a new ‘slang’ they’re using - ‘wale hunting’. Or in other words men (rather boys, let’s call them the appropriate way) make a bet before going to any party/clubs to find the ‘ugliest woman’ and… yeah, I was ready to throw hands.

Based on what you wrote, I think you’ll agree when I say I have to pull up so many walls when I’m speaking to a man. Like genuinely be on a high alert.

Haa, this is exhausting, would be very grateful if men would leave me and the people around me alone for at least good 6 months

The ‘not all men are the same’ is overplayed so much and all for what? Like, they don’t even notice how they speak to a woman, calling one bitch when something doesn’t go their way or she’s not interested, not even mentioning physical force. I’m just truly exhausted and ranting again, soooryyyy

Thank you for reaching out! I know this is a story/fic blog so rants are not necessarily a part of it, but it’s been really pressing me for a while now. Thank you for all the support, sending you the best thoughts and sunshine! Hope everything goes well for you! 🌻

#🐇 anon #thank you for reaching out 🥲

[inspiteallthedanger]

I oscillate between thinking Paul had absolutely no idea about anyone’s feelings at all including his own or Paul absolutely heard John when he was not so metaphorically asking for HELP! so Paul knew he had to pick up his half of the load plus a little more which is why you get a sort of frenetically paced Paul in ‘67 (the cocaine lent a hand there). If Brian hadn’t died, or if they had had competent management to replace him, perhaps they would have had more time? I waffle in the what ifs. /WS

WS, hello my darling.

It can be both, I think. Paul is very clueless but I do think that sometimes that cluelessness is somewhat forced on his part. As in, "I do not wish perceive and so I will not." As John (and many others, including Paul) said: "He simply would not be told what he didn't want to be."

But as anyone who has dealt with someone with mental health issues can tell you, it's sort of difficult to realise how bad things are because it tends to be a slow process. Paul's almost pathological need to defend John and his behaviour just meant that he wasn't thinking, "Oh, no, John's acting up, I wonder if he's okay." He was thinking, "That's my man, don't you be talking shit about him; he's the best thing in the world and he can do whatever he wants, actually." This also somewhat intersects with Paul's other driving need: to be useful. So, when John was down, it sort of was Paul in his element because there he was, fixing things and being capable and successful. It's important to Paul that he's seen this way, and it comes from a genuinely good place. But, I can see from John's pov how he warped that into "Paul just likes when I'm weak because that makes him powerful". Because, yes, but also 'That's because he loves you, John'.

Urg. The 'What If' of Brian not dying is super interesting. That's such a massive rant, I'm not sure anyone would care for my full thoughts. Because for one thing, John's confidence in the band basically evaporated overnight. I think that's partly why he took more of a backseat to be honest. Then there's what would/wouldn't have Brian allowed (MMT would simply not have been allowed to go out like that, but what about the White Album? Yoko getting that close? Letting her in the studio? What about India? etc etc etc).

What I will say, not all that helpfully, is that the best case scenario (imo) for J&P, and the band more broadly, is that they fell apart more amicably. John and Paul were not wrong to say that for them to marry and have an 'adult' life, they needed to give one another up. I think that's clear from the fact that they tried to do both and... well, we saw how well it went. But, obviously Brian could (hopefully) have stopped it getting to the point where they're suing each other. Which means we'd more than likely have had a reunion and J&P working together in some form in the 70s.

That said, it's entirely possible that wouldn't have happened. Without the trauma, do they just walk away as semi-friends and there's no need to pick at that wound and come back and fall apart over and over? I dunno. One to consider though.

Golly, this is depressing. Sorry.

#beth rambles #makes me want to write the #love actually au just for shits and giggles #I've been thinking about how it could work #and actually #it's funny #and not that long

[batvillainz]

Ppl who r family read me in so many different ways and I pretty much like them all it's kinda great if I'm read as a woman it's butch lesbian no ifs ands or buts if I'm read as a man its either scrungly little cishet guy who looks like he knows how to fix your car or just. Twink. Otherwise it's "dunno what that person's deal is but they're kinda hot idk"

No one can get though a conversation with me and still think I'm cishet but otherwise like. None of them are really wrong.

#val chats #big whiplash from entering a place full of cool queer people is learning that I'm very hot and pass very well and yes I am vain #i was vain before tho this is nothing new #trans vanity is holy <3 #by family i mean queer btw idk if thats common parlance or not

[kuriboo]

Gender’s a whole thing man. There really is no one definitive way for me to identify at all times, I just stick to genderqueer and it makes me happy. And obviously gender is not a binary but it is….very difficult sometimes to remember that. It’s really routed into who i am as a person

Being the youngest and a girl put a target on my back in a way that just…shaped a lot of where i’m at even today. I still have trouble believing I’m likable in any way, that I have any worth as a person, that I’m allowed to be happy and can be successful…idk.

I couldn’t tell you how many times I cried in my room and wished I was a boy because maybe it would be easier. I’m not sure it would have been. But regardless of what ifs, that’s the facts.

At the same time, being a girl, having that solidarity with my mom…helped a lot. If it weren’t for my mom I don’t know if I’d be here. Growing up was a lot of us vs them mentality that was enforced by them.

Being a girl destroyed me, and I wished so badly to be a boy. But being a girl also helped…save me.

It’s complicated.

Obviously, it’s not that black and white. It’s not either boy or a girl, or even, you’re 100% a girl or you’re not at all. It’s much more complicated than that and thank god for it, because if I had to choose between being a boy and being a girl, it would be…extremely painful.

I’ll never not be a girl. I’ll never be 100% a guy. I can be both. And I can be a lot of things outside of that, too.

Of course, in real life… I lean into the girl part. It’s what everyone sees me as regardless, it’s a lot easier, and it’s safer when you’re living in rural ass conservative area. I really don’t want my family or the people in this area to see me any differently. I don’t owe this community my full true self.

Pretending to be a 100% GIRL! all the time is tiring and gets old, though. So…on the internet, I lean more into being transmasc. If we don’t know each other in real life or we aren’t close in any way, I really don’t want she/her pronouns. It’s old and boring and they aren’t my favorite! There’s a reason on tumblr I list my pronouns as he/they: those are the pronouns I want people who only know me on tumblr to use. On discord, I tend to stick to more close-knit groups and say people can use any. And that’s equally valid! My pronouns depend on context and that’s okay! If you use any pronouns besides she/her for me around family I will beat you to death with my hooves. These are all true things that can coexist

Idk I saw a post earlier about gender as an inherent thing and gender as a culturally taught thing and I dunno

I was taught at a very young age to hate everything about myself lmao and gender very much played into that and my relationship with gender will always be complicated and that’s okay. I can live my truth without outing myself to people.

Blah blah blah gender is fluid

#tater.txt

[elderemorune]

PLUR BAYBEEE

So it should come as no surprise that I love ridiculous things. Star Trek, dogs, my cat, people in general, EDM.

Speaking of EDM, for those unfamiliar, PLUR stands for Peace, Unity, Love, and Respect. The defining traits of the Rave scene, or at least it was explained to me this way. Until Friday, I'd never seen an EDM show live, much less been to a rave (and no I'm not counting those dances back in middle school where the DJ would play the censored version of American Idiot for a bunch of small, Ritalin loaded assholes). For my first, whew, I picked a hell of a show.

Let's start at the beginning. A few weeks ago, I found this artist, Hyper Potions. I'd never heard of him before, and I'll admit, my first look into him was... Less than appealing. There was some controversy with one of the two founders, but my initial doubts were quickly disabused, as one of the duo very firmly told the controversial member to fuck off, no ifs, ands or butts.

This in mind, I looked to see if he was on tour, and to my shock, heck to my awe, it just so happened that he was doing a show at The Crocodile in Seattle on the 5th.

Just in time for my birthday! (It's around the time I posted this, I'll leave you guessing the exact date, because that's funnier to me.)

The tickets were reasonable, so I grabbed my wife and @thisbirdhasceasedtobe, we got dressed, and away we went! There was a dinner plan, but the place I wanted to go to was too full so we bounced and hit the venue.

The opening act was this guy I'd never heard of before, Knob Ross. If I'm totally honest, I liked his vibe, but this man was not really good at playing the crowd. I imagine it's hard to be the opening act at a show like this, since you're who's playing while people filter in. The way the stage was set up also had me misreading his name as Knob Boss all evening too, which isn't a knock against him, but more of a statement. Hell, because of that I didn't get the joke with his name.

Normally this is where I'd share one of his songs, but he's proving difficult to track down. If someone has any of his work, I'd be happy to put an example here!

Anticipation started mounting when Hyper took the stage though. Between his crowd work and his cool visuals, the house was jumping within minutes of his appearance. The energy he brought was so bright and so happy I couldn't help but smile myself.

Hey look at that, he actually did music for a Sonic game! That explains why his visuals were all really cool voxel animations of various Sonic characters!

Funny enough though, despite having gone to the show for Hyper Potions, I'd like to introduce you to the headliner.

Have you ever wanted to see a man in a Sasquatch costume play the saxophone over the Jellyfish House Party from Spongebob?

Now you have!

Allow me to introduce Saxsquatch!

I wasn't looking for this man. Hell, I didn't even look at the other people playing this show, I was satisfied going to see Hyper Potions. I kept my expectations low for the others, but gods alive, was I blown away.

First off, three saxophones. One alto (which I personally play), and two tenors. One of them is peculiar though. A clear plastic affair with LEDs inside, it's easily the coolest form I've seen the instrument take, and real talk? This glowing beacon of cool made his cover of Never Gonna Give You Up even better after he joined the crowd.

Please forgive the shakiness, I was absolutely blitzed on Fernet and beer at this point, and I was swaying with the crowd as well.

Shitty cinematography aside, just look at this guy! He's having fun, we're having fun, I've never seen anything quite like it!

Obviously his crowd work is good, but what about his music? Personally I love it, even his cover of September, though my buddy vehemently disagrees with me. They said that his cover lacks soul, but I dunno, I felt a lot of soul in that crowd as we jumped to it!

I couldn't tell you a damn thing about his visuals though. Were they good? No clue! I was busy staring at him! I didn't even notice when the lasers came on because I was too busy watching a man fulfill a childhood dream of mine: being an EDM artist who plays saxophone. Yeah it was all covers, but he was there, and again, LOOK AT HIM!

Lastly, I think we should talk about the venue. It's attached to Madame Lou's, where I went to see Bear Ghost and Damn the Weather. Unlike ML's, The Crocodile is a much larger performance space, with some of the trappings of that. I wish there had been more ADL seating, as my wife is disabled and short, so finding a comfortable place for her to enjoy the show was a bit troublesome. Still, like a champion, she sat in the uncomfortable, tall stool just so that I could jump around like a fool.

The drinks? Well, they did what all venues do. Smaller drinks at about $15 each. We had five drinks between us this evening, though it's six if you count the signature drink, The Bite Back, as two. It's a beer and a shot of Fernet, which I really like. You down the shot, then chug the beer, and wait for it to bite. We also had a G&T, a Fuzzy Navel, and a Whiskey Sour, and their signature lager. I had the sour and the beer, in addition to the Bite Back. Sure, we spent a bit much on alcohol, but it was my birthday party dammit, and I was going to get drunk.

After the show, we stumbled back to the car, and had our friend (who was sober) drive us home. We stopped for some good old fashioned 1:00 AM Jack in the Box, where the poor asshole behind the window was being harassed over the phone by some fucking jerk. Would it really be a Jack in the Box if shit wasn't fucked?

Okay, I've gotten off track. The show was incredible, and I'd 100000000% go see Saxsquatch and Hyper Potions again. Knob Ross, all the love to you my man, no shade, but uh, I don't think I'll be going out of my way to find you again.

Show was a 10/10, I can't even begin to tell you how satisfying that sourdough jack was though.

#music #edm music #edm show #seattle concert #saxsquatch #Hyper Potions #Knob Ross #Youtube

[realhankmccoy]

Wueer: So Trump's cucks think only people inclining in the derange of laughingstock hateful straight whtie tribalists are 'worth it'.

A: Yeah, it's just a different more cucked value system, and they think i should have cucked myself to this value system too, but I can't.

the dictates coming from Trump's toddler cucks these day seems to be:

GET HAPPY OR GET OUT (this is stupid and plasticising, Elon screams this at Twitter employees, too)

PEOPLE WHO ARE WHITER AND RIGHTER ARE MORE WORTHWHILE IT TAKES COURAGE TO HANG WITH WONDERBREAD AND MARSHMALLOW (this is 180 degrees upside down) SOMETHING ABOUT HOW BLACKS HAVE PISSED ON EVERY OPPORTUNITY THEY WERE GIVEN SO FUCK EM (this is racism, and this is also what Jared Kushner says about the Palestinians... it's sort of a spoiled white marshmallow having a tantrum and saying THE STATUS QUO REMAINS FOR A REASON BECAUSE THE MINORITY IS THE REASON FOR THE STATUS QUO OMG ITS SO FUCKING FRUSTRATING I COULD SCREAM)

... now that is the interesting part to be me about this form of stupidity -- the frustration a Kushner and Trump's toddler cucks must feel -- I mean wow -- where does this sort of entitled authoritarian zone of the pamapered male mind even come from? I don't get it, I seem to be missing that nodule or whatever... I avoid the authoritarian approach tho -- I mean, these brains must be radically different from mine, I certainly hope somebody can preserve Slenderman's brain and dissect it someday or something to explain this to me. Slenderman should have never been allowed to work in the White House, period.

YOU ARE AN INFINITE SUICIDE UNLESS YOU'RE A CAPITALIST MANUFACTURING TOYS HE WITH THE MOST TOYS WINS (yeah according to Forbes but what if there's... another way.... Haagen Daas... lots and lots of Haagen Daas... or that unicorn queer happy kitty I've been eyeing at Walgreens, or coming down off the mountain, or what if I'm not as miserable as you're projecting upon me, or all sorts of what ifs... this is a narrow reductionist capitalist mindset you're stuck in as a cuck that things pigeonholing somebody 'destroys' them, but that actually doesn't happen in a place called reality. Some people are just fine with being a specialist. I'm personally a generalist, no matter what you think of me. There's a couple of corporate terms for you, since yr on that 'fire your employees' tip. And you shouldn't want to be destroying people, kid, it's not very nice)

BLAH BLAH BLAH SOMETHING ABOUT THE CRUCIBLE AND WICCA (I dunno kid i haven't read Arthur Miller in a while, this sounds like you're engaging in some Mayflower cliche on the wrong side of history tho, i mean why not just get out the Monopoly Man's tophat and cane if we're turning back the clock to conservative American silliness about women being witches from an antifeminist perspective, pick yourself up a pocketwatch, it would be more magickal than what rote cliche you're trying to enforce here, officer cuck, ya know? i don't like the status quo, i like things that buck the status quo)

AND YOURE HYPEVIGILANT -- kid, i'm not hypervigilant. this whole device you're using here is part dad, part Bruce. i can tell ya which parts are which but really, it's all three of you. It makes me think, since you like Power Totems, so here's sort of a Super Star name for ya, CAMILLE PAGLIA -- that thing Camille said about how she could see this academic using this Lacanian Device as she was taught to deconstruct Goggles as oppression, whereas Camille said why can't they be, you know, mystic version? You're using a traditional conservative Mayflower American device here to find flaws in me and it's not service you very well, it's just cucking you and making you look like clockwork. If anything I was undervigilant cuz I would have never guessed somebody in the Big City would still be squawking about witches from the man's perspective in the youth in this day and age -- but the American cuckservatism that took you over is quite a Japanese Knotweed of a situation, you see, and you can't really expect a serious response to a bunch of blather about PAGAN WITCHES and all that woo woo -- isn't that what the kids call it, woo woo -- hogwash, I guess I'd rotely call it, i don't like woo woo goo goo how that sounds on the tongue -- if anything i'm undervigilant and likely to get myself killed by one of these American nutsjobs lol, wild animals that they are, full of all sorts of implanted and ridiculous notions like the ones you've villed yourself up on.

Kid, get back to something like your thoughts on Candyman, because those are progressive and interesting to me. For a farmboy to watch those urban spaces was really an otherworldly experience. The whole film seemed almost like it was beamed in from another universe, because there was no knowledge of Cabrini Green on the farm. There was a knowledge of Bloody Mary.

This dad and Bruce stuff is rotely not interesting and is very easy to fend off. You're using an ideological device to try to take me down, but what's being accomplished is you're revealing yourself to have cucked yourself to an ideology for the sake of whatever power and safety and securitah you think it offers you. It doesn't offer that. It would only mystify and dazzle people who haven't seen it before.

I've been around the block, you see.

I can see why you think you understand people on a deeper level, but ya don't. Holding up a Nazi cuck and saying 'it's not a Nazi, it's slightly different' ... that's what Ben Shapiro does, k. That's not a deeper insight. You're just ascribing depths that aren't there. Of course there is a difference between a vegan Nazi cuck who wants Israel wiped off the map and his adorable Baby Yoda who loathes the gall of the USA to take over in WW2 and a vegan Nazi mastermind who wants the Jews wiped off the map and his adorable Alsatian, Blondie, who loathes teh gall of the USA to take over in WW2 -- but I think one wouldn't be remiss from throwing it in the Nazi order, or the Nazi phylum, for the sake of rhetorical enlightenment and political expediency -- don't expect me to take a scientific approach, mmkay, because not being as partial to whiteness as you, I don't find that subspecies to be nearly as intriguing. He's as dry as a bone and ever so square despite what's going on with his mix and match menz cards and eugenics programms.

So ya think you've got FAR MORE VALUE, kid? What sort of value? One million American dollars, that sort of value? Or is it far more than that? Oh, is this triggering? First Goldilocks is mad at me for saying she should be worth this massive amount, and now Goldilocks is saying I undervalued her? Which is it?

There's a Katy Perry song that can answer this for you, I mean this is the level of what's going on here. Just listen to Katy Perry and she'll explain what's going on with you. Women know:

As far as unfathomable art that's incredibly deep, oh, what a sticker to put on the cover of whatever one's trying to hawk on the free market. Is that how artists talk about themselves these days? Did they interview the David Bowie about Scary Monsters and his thoughts were "oh yes, well, this album is art that you cannot fathom because I have a deeper grasp of reality?"

And how deep does the grasping go? You think this obsession with seeing other people six feet under gives ya cred or power?

What can I think as a grown man other than that it's all child's play compared to how delicious a bone-in tomahawk or bone-in porterhouse would be t share at Bowdie's? Oh, I can almost taste it. Is money really that precious to you that you've gotta hoard up a little pile and can't buy me cocktails until I pass out in the snow? You know what people used to do to their dates when they passed out? Ask Marilyn Manson, Trent Reznor or, um, I guess Danny Masterson. Am I that intimidating? How many drinks do you think it would take til I'm drinking myself under the table? I'm a lightweight, kid, and you're still afraid of that, eh?

If you're going to insist on being perseverant with this child's play stuff and can't even figure out how to get to Whiting, which is probably where you truly belong -- I would suggest a reconnassiance mission to Brewster Apartments, 2800 North Pine Grove Avenue, Chicago to think about what you're doing with your life.

Take photos. You can even stop at The Bagel which is run by a Homosexual. It's just a few blocks down. Look how absolutely adorable it looks in the snow. This could be your Miracle on 34th Street holiday season. Ho ho ho mo!

Otherwise, stop it with all this talk about guns. It is so incredibly, incredibly embarrassingly American, and at best I mean, if we wanted to try and be generous and not think of you as a cuck, there's a few directors over in East Asia who were cucked by America.

Takashi Miike comes to mind, Ringo Lam, John Woo... some serious one-dimensional male-minded shit. For you to try to add dimensionality to gun scenes is almost femme of you, Nikita, and try any more of it and somebody's gonna accuse you of, gasp, being womanly.

Every time you simp for for violent American traditions, you're also simping for tne NRA and status quo unless you're prepared to do something about it. Stop being such a cuck, you're getting kids killed and people are getting hurt by America's endlessly paranoid dance about preserving this kinda scholock and you know the real reason for it all? It's because somebody's fucking grandpa -- a lot of people's grandpas -- loved watching, I dunno, Whitesploitation Films about a buncha cowboys shooting off all the Indians and taking the whole land and feeling like the heroes while they did it.

I got an answer for you and this constant injection of murderous imagery and homicidal weaponry into your blather. That answer is you are not mature enough yet. The answer is you're being some dumb kid and the eagerness of your cucked self to go for what gurn frurdumbs America sez makes a man is as programmatic as the enthusiasm seen in this slide-stopping classic:

The answer is this:

You'll shoot your eye out, kid. Merry Christmas. Ho Ho Ho Mo.

XOXOXOXO,

Hank Alexander Anixamander Faggot the III The Apeiron here is the Arche Sew Don't U Fergit Rain keeps falling rain keeps falling Down down down down

#trump #jared kushner #slenderman #camille paglia #katy perry #marilyn manson #a christmas story #chucky #vintage chucky doll #turns up at a suburban yard sale #just like some cucks you might know #don mancini #brad dourif