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natsgrave · 5 months

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TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

While you were out building other worlds, where was I? You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

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miwsolovely · 2 months

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—SHAMEFUL

pairing: task force 141 x fem!black!reader

series masterlist taglist next

summary: Your mom asks for a favor.

contains: mentions and talks of running away, reader being kept in the dark for a second, talks of revenge, talks of past trauma, price is a meany, ghost is ghost, reader has a tiny mental breakdown, dissociation

wc: 4.1k

a/n: love this first chapter

a/n 2: listened to ghost in the machine by sza while writing this (i would recommend listening to it while reading !)

Outside, the clouds were dark and gray. Casting a veil over the sun. Hiding light from this part of town. Mimicking your feelings, dark and sad and scared to hell.

Your back ached, carrying heavy boxes filled with memories from your last apartment, and the apartment before that, and the house before that.

The you from three years ago would’ve stripped each and every one of your house and apartments bare. Leaving nothing and bringing everything.

Now as you stand in your third apartment in two years, feeling defeated and tried, you wonder how most of your life can fit into 5 cardboard boxes.

All the memories filled with love, sadness, hate, years filled almost to the brim in 5 cardboard boxes.

You looked away from the depressing sight of your life in those boxes, sat down on the stool that was in front of your kitchen island, and lied your head down on the cold surface of it.

The cold was welcomed. It gave you something to think about, something else to worry about.

Your head was throbbing, pounding as you moaned in pain, your face full of sadness and distress. You felt like after moving so much in such little time, nothing was going your way, and the world seemed cold and uncaring.

Anchovy was curled up next to you, the feline's purr providing you a comforting and soothing presence that only she could provide. You felt her rough but soft paw, gently brushing up against your cheek, her tail swinging softly in an adorable display of cuteness.

Your attention was now drawn to the white Birman, and the feline gave a gentle meow, as if asking you if you’re alright.

You shuddered out a breath and ran your calloused hands over your face, resting your elbows on the island and your face on your hands.

“Fuck . . .” You whispered, running your hand through your hair and pushing it back out of your face at the same time. “This shit can’t get any sadder huh?”

Anchovy meowed again and rubbed her head on yours, her purring loud in your ears.

You laughed and ran your fingers through her fur. “Thanks Cho.” You bumped heads with her lightly and looked in her eyes. She in return, licked your nose.

You smiled and kissed her head, scratching behind her ears.

Disrupting the moment you were having with Anchovy, your phone rang. The sound piercing your ears and the vibrations uncomfortable on your ass. Anchovy leaped from the island counter to your lap as you reached in your back pocket to get your phone.

The contact calling you was no other than your older sister. You swiped to accept the call and held the phone against your ear, petting Anchovy with your unoccupied hand.

“What’s up scales?”

“One,” she snapped, “i am not a fish. Two, I called to warn you. So shut up, and listen.”

You paused combing your fingers through Anchovy’s fur. Vera never called to warn you, and she never sounded so serious.

“What is it?” You questioned. If it was anybody else calling you to warn you about something, you would’ve been fine. But this was Vera. Cold hearted stick-your-head-on-a-pike-if-you-look-at-me-weird Vera. She rarely even calls anybody.

You heard her sigh on the other end of the line. “Mom’s gonna call you. Shes gonna ask you for something, a favor, but you gotta promise me—”

“Mom?” You questioned. “Mom is gonna ask me for a favor? We talkin’ about the same woman right?”

She sighed again, exasperated. “Yes, [name] We’re talking about the same woman. Now listen,” she started, “shes gonna call you, ask for a favor, and you have got to fucking promise me that you hear her out because this will be beneficial to the both of you if you just fucking listen. You understand me?”

You were silent for a few moments. “[name]? [name] I swear to fucking—”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here Vee.” You sighed, rubbing your hands down your face. “You got me stressed now, is something wrong with Mom? Is Ma okay?” You questioned.

“Yes [name], Mom an’ Ma are just fine. Look I’m,” she paused for a few seconds. You couldn’t see her, but you knew she was doing that thing she always does when she’s guilty of something: playing with her ear. “I’m sorry. For worrying you. I just—”

“—want what’s best for me I know Vee. I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. And you know I don’t like it when you say it like that.” She grumbled. Ever since you two were little, she would always get mad whenever you would say “I love you too” instead of “I love you” saying it sounded like you agreed with the fact that she loved you.

You let out a small laugh. Smile playing at your lips. “Fine. I love you Vera.”

“You promise you’ll hear her out? Promise me.” She stressed.

“I promise, Vera. Cross my heart an’ hope to die.”

You could hear her smile through the line. “Good. I love you [name].”She affirmed and then the line ended.

You sat still for a moment, worrying, stressing, overwhelmed. was Mom okay? Was Vera okay? The emotions you were feeling right now were equivalent to the feeling of unknowingly being led into a field of landmines by someone you trusted and that person just walking away. Leaving you to your imagination. Would you step on a landmine, Would you walk away with all your limbs intact?

Yes, you loved Vera with your entire heart and more, but a little less suspense would do your mind some good.

Because of this, this field of suspense that Vera trapped you in, you didn’t notice how Anchovy slipped away, likely taking a nap in your room. Not noticing the little things, not noticing how your heart pounded, how your breathing started coming short, how little crescents started to form on the palm of your hands from the onslaught of your nails, how you lip started to bleed from how much you bit it, how—

Your phone was ringing again.

It snapped you out of whatever daze you were in before. Pulling you up from the dark of the unknown. Your mind. Waking you up, making you realize that yes, you were still here, and no, this is not a dream.

You took a deep breath and answered the call, not looking at the caller ID.

“Hello? [name]?”

It was Mom. Why was she calling? Is she alright? Is Ma alright?

“Mom? Whats wrong, are you—” You took a calming breath. “—are you okay?”

She was silent on the other line for a moment. “Did Vera not tell you I’d call?”

You paused. Holding the phone on your ear hearing faint static coming from the other line. Sitting confused for a few seconds.

In more ways than one, the sound of static was like your mind. The mental clutter occupying all the space for any other thoughts or emotions; and like static, they were blurred, unable to piece together correctly. Your thoughts were clouded and confused after the little episode that you had after hanging up with Vera. Right now, all you could hear were a million radio stations all playing at once, constantly intruding on each other and creating an awful, chaotic noise. Your head felt like it was about to explode if you didn’t—

“[name].” Came her calming voice. “[name] can you hear me? Try to breathe sweetheart, you’re alright.”

You did as you were told and took a deep breath, prolonging the exhale. “Yeah—yeah she told me about you callin’ I just,” You took another calming breath. “just had a moment Mom, m’ fine.”

“Another one?” She asked, and you nodded in response even though she couldn’t see it. Either way, she knew. she always did.

“What’d you wanna talk about?” You question, changing the topic. Mostly because you couldn’t bear to talk about yourself. Your problems, your fears.

She cleared her throat. Likely preparing herself for the conversation. “Listen, before you cut me off—”

“—Too late, Mama. Stop beatin’ around the bush. Please. You know how I am about that.” You begged. Brows furrowing as you looked around the kitchen. You stood up and walked to the living room instead. Standing in front of a bouquet of flowers left on the coffee table Vera got you when you moved here. The petals and stems still wet, you need a vase. Anything to distract yourself.

You walked back to the kitchen and reached the too cupboard for a clear white vase. You picked it up with care and starting a search for the flower food you know it came with, you put it somewhere.

She sighed on the other end of the line for the umpteenth time. “You need to face it [name]. Face the fact that he’s still alive and looking for you. Face the fact that you can’t run forever and that you need to look the Devil in his fucking eyes and say “No.””

You sighed and paused your search. Raising your hand to your face and rubbed at your eyes, already feeling a migraine. “Mom—” You find the flower food and bring it and the vase back to the living room. Throwing the food hazardously on the coffee table.

“No, [name]. I love you. You know I love you. Vera loves you and you know your Ma loves you more than God ever could.” She said. She was pleading. For what, you didn’t know.

You stopped in front of the coffee table. The line was silent on both ends for a few seconds. Feeling like minuets, hours.

“Mom,” You worried. “what is this about . . ?”

“I’m sorry, [name]. I just want what’s best for you and—”

“Mom.”

You were gripping the vase so tightly you were surprised it didn’t break under your hands.

You heard her choke out what sounded like a shaky breath and sigh at the same time.

“I put in a permanent spot request for you in a Task Force.” She took a deep breath. To calm herself, you don’t know. You were lost. “You transfer there tomorrow. I was gonna ask for your permission to send the request before-hand but after your little episode, how you do things to distract yourself from what’s going on around you, you need structure baby, routine, and the one thing that’s gonna give you that, is by doing this.”

That tight grip you had on the vase got tighter, and tighter, until there was nothing to hold onto anymore. Only broken shards of glass, your blood, and the sound of the vase breaking that closely resembled screams.

Something you wanted to do right now: scream, cry, throw a fucking fit.

“[name], listen—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. You started a new one, interrupting her.

“You didn’t—” You let out a choked laugh pushing your hair out your eyes blood following, painting wherever your fingers touched red. “You didn’t think, to ask me? Do you know how much trauma and war I’ve been in and seen in the military? How much shit I was going through because of him? And you want me to go back? Forcing me?”

“Yes, [name], I know, believe me, I know. But you’re running away. You need to face this and end it.” She sounded so bleak. “I don’t care, I don’t care if you hate me for this, but I can’t keep seeing you like this, baby. I can’t keep seeing you without that light in your eyes, that smile that would never go away, that laugh,” She sobbed. She sobbed. Your Mom, crying her eyes out can be heard from your end of the line. The sound broke your heart. Broke it into tiny pieces, tinier pieces than the pieces of glass on the floor. She sobbed.

“Please, [name], please. I need you to live your life.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to let your tears run.

“Please.”

You held your head with your bloodied hand, smearing blood everywhere, unbeknownst to yourself, to try and calm the raging migraine you felt. You let out a sob hushed by your closed mouth and blinked tears away.

“Please...”

You sucked in air through your nose, and let it out after five seconds. Repeating the motion twice more.

“Wherever it is,” You gasped out, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “M’ not paying for a ticket there.”

You could hear her smile. And when she laughed a laugh that could make flowers bloom and the sun shine brighter, you let the tears fall. And after the call ended, it was shameful, the cry you let out.

***

"Why are we here Cap? Thought we were done for the day?" Gaz said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Price turns to him from his sitting position across from everybody and facing the door. "Laswell gave me word of—"

"Please—Ma'am you can't go in there! You're not cleared yet and—"

"Do I look like I give a damn? Where the fuck is Station Chief Kate Laswell?"

"She's-"

"I'll take it from here Sophie. Go on back to the Med Wing."

Sophie, they think, sighs and they hear her retreating footsteps. The men inside waited with bated breaths as they wondered who could be outside.

"Word o' wha' Price?" An accented voice asked. Mohawk overgrown a bit and kissing the tip of his eyebrows. Price let out a stressed sigh and leaned on his hands with his elbows on the table in front of him. "You'll see." He responded.

Hushed whispers are all they heard. Unable to make out anything from through the thick door.

Another sigh, and the door handle clicked as it was turned.

Entering first was Laswell. A file tucked underneath her arm as she nodded at Price and sat down next to him across from everybody else. And the new face entering the room now.

What they noticed first. Was not the fact that she noticed Ghost lurking in the corner of the briefing room immediately, her eyes shifting and meeting brown before promptly facing the front, was the fact that she had to duck and shift to the side to fit through the door.

Unmistakable pounds of muscle and healthy fat was standing at attention in front of the Task Force 141.

Something they didn't know what to do with.

Kate cleared her throat. Gaining the attention of everybody in the room and meeting the hard eyes of the woman still standing in front of the door. Waiting. "Everybody." She started, as she handed out the file, much likely the mystery woman's file, to Price. "Meet Colonel [name] [I.name]. Been on the force since eighteen and specializes in stealth, pararescue, close-combat fighting, and," she paused, looking at [name] directly. "she's a damn good sniper too."

Price looked at [name] then back at Kate after a few seconds. "The fact that her record is impressive is why you brought us all here for?" He sighed out. "Laswell, why is she here?"

Kate matched Price's stare with her own. "Because Captain, you need her if you ever want a chance at catching and killing Graves and Shepard." She said.

The room was silent. A chance at catching Graves and Shepard? In the months they’ve been gathering intel, chasing loose ends, and hitting rock bottom, they haven't even scratched the surface of finding the two. Now Laswell is saying this goliath of a woman can help them?

"How is she gonnae help us?" Soap said, turning in his chair and lifting his chin to look at the woman behind him.

But the woman never looked down to meet his eyes. She looked straight ahead and met the eyes of Kate Laswell.

Kate stared at [name] for a hard minute. And only after did she start to speak.

“You can hate it, you can love it, but either way,” Kate said, keeping her eyes on [name], “either way she’s on your team.” In that exact moment it felt as though Kate was talking to [name]. Generalizing the sentence but directing it towards the woman. Kate, looking at [name] still, knew her hands were being clenched behind her back. Nails digging painfully into the skin of her palms. The same skin that was being reopened.

A heavy sigh interrupted the moment. Captain Price rubbing his forehead while looking to the side at Kate. “And we got no say in this matter?” He said after a moment, directing his eyes to meet with yours.

“No, John.” Kate said, walking around the table to the door behind you discreetly touching your back and squeezing. We’ll talk later. “Not even you can change this decision.” Then, she left.

He sighed again. “No offense to you, Colonel,” He said after a moment. He stood and walked the length of the table, like Kate did moments before, to stand in between the space you had between yourself and the table. “But if you want to stay, and yes, I do have a say in that matter, then earn your keep. You hear?” You could hear as hint of venom in his voice, masked by the deep rumble of his voice.

“None taken, Captain.” You matched his stare. “But do you really think the higher ups will take me out the team just because of petty hostility towards a new teammate?”

While you were tall, Price was much taller. Standing straight at what looks like 6’8 from your position and piercing you with a hard sea colored stare. In a situation like this, you were supposed to crane your neck to meet his eyes. Supposed to. However, you kept your face and head straight. Only lifting your eyes to match his stare.

“Only if that temporary presence in this team can’t control their mouth.”

A presence behind you, not close enough to feel their body pressed against you, but enough to imagine it. You knew it was Ghost because of how he snuck up on you. Waiting until you were engrossed in this little staring contest with his Captain to pounce.

Like a shadow.

Only then, did you realize the situation you were in. In the middle of two big men, in a room filled with two more equally big men. What have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know Lieutenant,” You turn around partially at the waist to face the man behind you. Eyeing the glaring chocolate eyes behind the pale white of the skull mask. “Life always has its ups and downs doesn’t it?”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

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betasquads · 6 months

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FORGOTTEN, Niko Omilana

———————————

summary: you and Niko were friends right before he got famous. One by one, day by day, he started to forget that you even exist. Months started to pass by, and you found yourself questioning if he ever thought about you. It began piling up to years. On a random workday, you bump into the least expected person.

warnings: mentions of death, maybe some curse words?!

A/N: sorry to break but there won't be a part two for this! (maybe if I get an idea on how to complete it then sure)

"That is going to be disgusting." you cringe at the ingredients put in the blender. Infront of the camera, an 18 year old Niko Omilana sat there blindfolded.

You both decided to do a challenge that was currently trending on youtube where you get the most random ingredients and pile them up with numbers. One person says the number while blindfolded and the other makes the drink. Then the one with the best ingredients wins.

"Is it that bad?" A worried Niko speaks.

"It's horrid." You remark with a nervous laugh, pouring it in a cup where he can't see the contents and how the drink looked like.

"Alright– let me take this off." You say as you capture your lips between your teeth. You takes the blindfold off gently and that results to Niko's heart fluttering, butterflies in his stomach erupted at you just doing a simple task to him.

"This is going to be really delicious!" You smile at the camera and Niko tries to sniff whatever that was in the cup but you immediately tut in disappointment.

"That's cheating! Come on just drink. It's really tasty." You bring it up to his mouth and you make him take more than a gulp, before Niko chokes and begins to gag at the taste. Your mouth is wide at how Niko tries to keep it down, despite the disgusting ingredients in the drink.

"What is that? Did you poison my drink? It tastes like the entire sea in there." He forcefully swallows it, bringing the cup down.

You just laugh until tears began forming in your eyes, "Your reaction is priceless!" You say through cries of laughing as you clutch your stomach.

Just the sight of you laughing, made him let out small laughs, "What was in there?"

You let out a huge amount of air when you finally stop laughing, "Anchovies, nutella, cereal, an egg, and pomegranate juice."

"Why was yours much better?" He wonders. Yours only consisted of spinach, chocolate milk, ice cream, beans, and the chocolate Aero. The spinach and the beans barely effected the drink and it resulted to you having the tastier drink.

"We already know who won. It's me, again." You point at yourself with both of your index finger.

"She's rigging every challenge, it's not fair." He shakes his head and drinks the leftover of your drink. Deep down inside, he'd get excited by just looking at how excited you get when you win. It was like he won aswell.

"I guess that's it for the video. Unless you want me to win you over again." You shrug and aggressively take your drink back.

"Crazy how this drink has beans and it tastes quite nice–" You hum pleasure at how tasty your drinks was.

"Shush. Nobody cares. Alright that's the end of the video. We'll see you again next Sunday." Niko finishes the outro and right after he was done, you both began cleaning up and setting everything in its place.

When you place some of the stuff in the fridge, a thought hits you when you look over at Niko and you let out a small laugh. He turns around, confused on why you were laughing.

"What is it?"

"I just have a feeling you'll be big someday. As in millions of subscribers and all of that." You smile at the thought. Niko's dream of doing pranks and becoming big was the only thing he'd talk about.

"Impossible." He says under his breath, chuckling.

"Oh you'll see. I'll be the first person to tell you that I told you so. Just don't forget about me, Omilana."

He scoffs in disbelief, "You're my best friend since childhood and you're the most annoying person i ever met," He starts, placing all the dishes in the sink.

"it'll be impossible to forget about you, y/l/n. " He snakes his arm around your waist to pull you into a side hug. You thought this was a friendly hug, but nevertheless, you felt the exact same familiar butterflies errupt in your stomach whenever he would hold your hand or pull you into hugs.

"Plus, you'll be there to see it for yourself. You're not getting rid of me that easily." He narrows his eyes at you and walks off to get the rest of the things that were in his room.

You really hoped his words were true, because even if he didn't like you back, you wanted to spend your lifespan with him as his best friend.

—

4 months later*

Niko: the last video that we made

together got over 10,000 views,

I can't believe it

Link attachment

Y/N: not surprised, your videos

are entertaining especially when

I'm in it!

Niko: shush. that's not true, you

always lower my views you schmuck

Y/N: whatever helps you sleep at

night! I'm coming tomorrow to

celebrate

Niko: thought you had work?

Y/N: convinced my boss to let

me off for tomorrow, that's how

much I hate you 👍🏻

Niko: say whatever that helps you

sleep at night! mcdonald's worker 🤣

Seen

8 months later*

Y/N: do you wanna hang out? just

came back from vacation and It's

been like 4 months since we've

seen each other

Niko: sure, but it'll be like for an

hour and then I'll leave since I

have to edit something

Y/N: I could help you?

Niko: No its alright. I'll see you

in 10

Seen

5 months later *

Y/N: congratulations on your

recent video !!! It really has a

huge amount of views, very

proud like always

Niko: it's not that much but thank you

Y/N: of course it is, idiot. Do you

wanna hang?

Niko: later, I'm busy and I have got

something to do

Y/N: that's what you've been saying

for the past few months but alright.

Seen

4 days later *

Y/N: it's a saturday, don't tell me you're

busy on a weekend

Niko: I'm not, but i'm really exhausted

Y/N: alright then... text me when

you're free since you keep refusing

all my invites

Seen

—

2 years later*

And that was the last time since you've heard from Niko. He wasn't even that famous at that time, only around 50 thousand subscribers to his channel. So you sometimes wondered why would he be busy at the time?

You even thought if he ever thought about your name or if he ever felt ashamed whenever the thought of it just popped up in his mind.

You even thought that the little crush you had on Niko would be gone after a few months of him never getting back to you, but no, your feelings just got stronger.

Today, a 21 year old you was seated across the laptop since you had to do some work about searching for a topic to speak about. You sip on your hot coffee as you sigh deeply, too exhausted to do anything.

That was until you came across an article about a special someone, your back immediately straightened up. He had hit 1 million subs today, August 26th 2019. You scoff, clicking on the article and pressing 'not interested.'

Even though you both might've aren't friends anymore, you couldn't help but feel proud of his success. You just knew it from the bottom of your heart, that he'll be big someday. And he was. You knew it wasn't far from becoming millions.

You knew him and you knew his personality would get him famous.

You just wished you were there to see him grow big with his following.

—

1 month later*

Your parents death hit hard. You could feel your life crashing down at the decisions that life had been giving you lately. It seemed like it just wanted you to suffer in life.

The strings in your heart was slowly starting to be ripped apart, you were sure that your life has come to an end.

You arrive at a random hotel since you sold your family house to get by until you find a job since you had been fired. The hallways looked a little too depressing to you or maybe it was just your thinking made everything look sad and horrible.

When you finally makes it to your room, you stand infront of the door and you put your hotel key and twist the door knob once it makes a click noise.

You close the door behind you and you take a glance at the hotel room, for some reason you used to always be excited whenever you got into a hotel room because you had someone with you and it would be for an exciting reason, like being on vacation, visiting your family and friends, and laughing so hard and becoming annoyed because the sheets were tucked in and they couldn't get it out.

But walking in and looking around at the room, made your heart ache. And when you felt it, tears began falling and so did your body. So you immediately got closer to the bed and sat down, your hands instinctively going to your mouth to at least muffle your cries.

When you heard your parents had died from the car losing control and driving off of a bridge, you were completely numb. You couldn't even cry. You just nodded and clarified that the two lifeless bodies were indeed your parents. You felt the pain in every part of your body, but still couldn't shed a tear. Now that it all hit you and your life was possibly over, you just felt the feeling of heartbreak and it was the complete worse.

All the voices going through your mind like the strings of the guitar when it goes smoothly towards your auricle, always hits you with guilt. For what it's worth, you knew there was no going back when the car lost control, fear, was all you felt.

The screams you heard before the car hit the water was constantly replaying in your mind, because you were also in the car, yet somehow you managed to live and escape the car and not your parents. Survivors guilt.

No one there to help you stop thinking about those thoughts. When you pathetically tried to help your father was no use, because you blacked out. You accepted your fate, only to wake up without your parents surviving, or even next to them. The rescues told you when they found you, you had already gotten out of the car so it was easier to rescue you.

You even thought about calling Niko, you needed him terribly.

You needed him to give you a break from overthinking it and replaying the events back. The thoughts of you being alone forever attacked you at most nights, you drowned into the depths of trauma, when your life flashed before your way to death. You were the only family member of your own that was still standing.

You were given a second chance at life, but why? You thought you didn't deserve it. Your brain constantly kept reminding you that you weren't worth being alive, your heart telling her that life was no use.

The way your heart ached when you realized your parents passed, all your surroundings weren't important. Nothing was important. It was all one nightmare that had came true. All you thought as a kid was growing old without your parents, and your thoughts became reality.

You were angry at yourself, you wanted to just scream at yourself for thinking that you were going to grow old with your parents and they could see you finish college and for you to get married one day.

But nothing like that will happen, right?

—

11 months later*

You finally got your bachelor degree and you were now working as a director and an editor at a young age, and everything almost seemed great for you.

That was of course until you heard rumors about Nicholas Omilana getting a girlfriend. You couldn't careless about him anymore in which you were convincing herself, but It was all over the place that even the people you worked with always teases you since they seemed to have watched Niko's old videos.

It was starting to get annoying that you threatened to fire them if they weren't professional enough.

You aren't just a film director, you usually edited for YouTube channels and directed for them aswell. So it was really easy to find people to work for you.

You loved youd job so much, it was something that you always wanted to work as, especially with Niko.

Now his name was everywhere, but he was still nowhere to be found.

—

3 years later, present*

"I've been trying to find Henry, but he's nowhere to be found." you say to the phone that's clutched in your hands as you walk around the rented mall.

You rented the mall only for the first floor to advertise some brands and it was going to be a long hectic week. You were currently in Germany with one of your biggest clients, renting an entire floor wasn't something you'd tell someone daily.

You didn't know you could make it this far. You were an actress, a director, and a model aswell.

"Just go to the second floor and see if he's there."

"I don't think we're allowed to step in there since im pretty sure some other people rented the second floor." You say confused as you look up, finding it a huge coincidence that people are renting a mall at the same time.

"If we don't find Henry, we'll be making them wait and they'll probably spit in our faces. They're sending me very mean stares. They look grumpy." You hear your boyfriend describe them which makes you giggle.

"Alright, babe. Just ramble and ramble like how you always do so they don't get bored. I'll be right back." You turn the call off and you go to the non working escalator and you start walking up.

When you reach on the second floor, you look around, trying to find the familiar face. You get startled once you hear your phone ringing, starting to walk around the mall.

You checks your phone and you roll your eyes once you see on the screen that it was written Henry.

You accept the call and you places the phone to your ear, "Henry, where are you? We've been trying to get to you after you just randomly disappeared!" You yell angrily since you could easily lose your client if one of the most important people weren't there.

"Yes, yes– I'm just meeting up with other problems since I have other clients aswell so it's a bit hectic." You hear him ramble, and it seems like he was out of breath.

"What ?! Another client? Why didn't you just tell me to move it to another day–"

"You don't understand. I'm still in the mall with other clients. They're just on the second floor." You grip the side of your forehead in disappointment. You we're practically just walking so fast around the mall without a thought.

"Yeah well our clients are currently very grumpy. They look like they'll about to sue our ass Henry! Get your ass down or I swear to–" Your words were cut off when you're bumped into a tall, large masculine body.

You scoff in anger, too pissed off to mutter an apology, "Watch where you're going dickhead–"

You were immediately slapped on the face with shock when you're met with the face you haven't seen since years, words were tied to your tounge, and suddenly there was no words to say. The mean words that you had in mind was now completely gone.

Your eyes are wide and filled with betrayal and his are wide and shocked. "Get my ass down or you'll swear to what?" You hear Henry with a little bit of an attitude, but you're too focused on the face that you haven't seen this face since you were 18.

Now you both were 25 and even matured in looks and definitely the way you acted around people.

He stares at you and he was even surprised at how much you've grown into your looks. Your facial structure matured since you were 18 and you became a little taller. Your hair was let down, not like when you used to put into a bun. You've abandoned your usual tracksuits and you were now wearing a suit.

"Hello? Where the hell are you–"

"Im sorry, I'll have to call you back." You mumble into your phone and close the call immediately.

"y/n."

"Niko."

You both say in union.

You hear Niko swallow and slightly tense at your name being spilled from his mouth, as if it was foreign on his tounge.

"How have you been?" You were shocked at how there was so much change in his voice. He can't seem to say anything except this sentence, too lost in how much you've changed and all the memories in the depths of his brain that were locked away we're being unlocked by each second he stared at you.

All those years went by too fast and in this exact moment, you asked yourself how it would've been like for you if this friendship didn't come to an end too soon.

"How have I been?" You scoff in confusion, disgust, and disappointment at the stupid question, shaking your head.

You try to compose yourself and try to hide the pain that twisted in your heart. Even after all these years, deep down you knew you would never be over him.

You sigh at how rude you sounded in the beginning, "Everything's great. It was great seeing you again, but I have somewhere to be." You try to walk past him, begging silently for him to beg you not to leave.

"Hey, hey–" He grips your hands, too scared let go after he's seen you after all those years. Just like you hoped for how this would work, you were still contemplating whether it was worth it even yelling at him or even talking to him. You turn around reluctantly, looking again at those familiar brown eyes.

"I want to talk." He says hesitantly and you scoff.

"We had plenty of years to talk. You didn't. You didn't even try contacting me, Niko. You just completely forgot about—" You didn't know what was the sudden pause, but you couldn't even complete the sentence.

You wanted to cry in his arms and you wanted him to run his fingers across your hair, like he always did before whenever you cried about something.

But, he didn't deserve your yelling.

"I don't see the point in telling you everything, or anything at all because you never cared. Did you?" You say aggressively, your arms crossing.

Niko was tall, but at this moment, he felt like he was the shorter one and you felt like you were taller than him.

"Of course I care. I swear I care. But–" He says immediately without thinking, but you cut him off.

"We were kids. I don't think this conversation will work because clearly you don't know who I am now." He felt his heart break at your statement, and he felt true fear if you actually did change.

He felt hurt that he couldn't see you grow up into the woman you were, or see how your personality evolved over the years.

He felt his heart twist and his stomach turn, realizing that there was no returning back.

"It was good seeing you–" You were cut off when you hear another familiar voice calling from behind.

"I guess you've seen– my other client." Henry pants, he's out of breath. But there was a nervousness that played in his eyes, like he knew he did something wrong.

"You work with Henry?" Niko's eyes are wide, surpised. Henry was a famous producer in the UK, which meant only one thing.

You were successful and Niko wasn't there to see you. And you weren't there either to see him grow like this.

It went both ways.

You and Niko were battling with your eyes, wanting so badly to hold each other with the other's arms and you both knew it. You both knew how much you both missed each other.

You could see a layer of tear on his eyes, but he tried so hard not to let it go. He felt like he was dumb at the moment and also wanted to yell at you for not letting him tell his reason before Henry interrupted.

"Yes I do." You mumble, feeling that all of those years were wasted.

You wanted him to see the struggles you went through and wanted for it to be him that helped you stand up back again, but you did it all by yourself.

But you? You helped him in every way. You were the one who pushed him to do everything, you were the one who encouraged him to start it all.

He didn't deserve having you, did he?

You wanted for this to never happen.

"Told you so, Omilana." You walk past him, and he was so confused with the sentence, and he was left dumbfounded.

This had just proved to you that he has forgotten every memory and every moment you both spent together. He forgot the moment where you promised him you were going to tell him 'I told you so.' He forgot.

And just like that, the void, the emptiness that he felt before seeing you, came back again. He wanted to run after you, apologize, and kiss the shit out of you. Something that he should've done a while ago.

You left for a reason.

Because you knew the older you both got and one of you leaves the earth, you'd always remember the things Niko taught you and he will aswell. Those were just memories. Something that we had in the past and are meant to be forgotten.

But it hurt the both of you for it to end this way.

Tears fell down as you walked off at the memories that came like a storm, wishing your ending included Niko Omilana by your side.

taglist: @bigdikzaddy (if you wanna be included in the taglist just ask !)

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dykelizard · 2 years

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dumping all my donnie headcanons bc i cant stop thinking about him!!

-he bites. HARD. soft-shell turtle bites are SO BAD his mouth is the second most dangerous next to raph. if u put your hand too close he WILL bite you and you WILL lose a finger.

-his vision is so bad that he’s pretty much legally blind. most of the time he wears contacts, especially when they’re on the surface fighting, but when he’s at home and comfy he wears these big thick ugly glasses that are all taped together and shit that he’s too attached to get rid of at this point.

-for when he’s working in his lab he has a HUGE pair of prescription goggles that leo always makes fun of him for (and subsequently gets slapped over)

-he gets SUPER cuddly when he’s overtired or overcaffeinated. in addition, whenever he FINALLY goes to sleep, he kicks like crazy. he’s the most restless sleeper in the family for sure. (raph snores, leo sleeps like the dead whenever he actually sleeps, and mikey sleep-walks/talks)

-he’s in the back issues club with splinter because of his extra-sensitive soft shell. he has chronic pain, and sometimes he can’t wear his battle shell for more than a few hours because it irritates both his past injuries and his shell itself, and he gets sore really easily. sometimes when the pain gets really bad, raph will give him shell massages to help.

-he’s the best swimmer out of the mad dogs. he’s CRAZY fast, and he likes to grab his brothers’ legs while underwater (menace)

-when he was younger, before he developed his battle shell prototype, he was way more prone to getting injured and hurting his soft shell. because of it, his brothers would always end up going out of their way to protect him. it always made him feel like he was nothing more than a burden to his brothers, and useless to the team.

-he thought that he was just dragging them down because he was such a liability in battle, which is a big part of the reason why he ended up building the battle shell.

-he would always end up covering his shell with bandaids, and leo would always give him the purple ones to make him feel better. (mikey also would sneak stickers on when he wasn’t looking)

-he takes better care of his machines than himself most of the time. shelldon is always properly oiled and charged, and all his inventions are in pristine condition.

-his favorite stims are rocking, hopping, flapping, cracking his knuckles (he just like me fr), fiddling with things, and doing little dances!!!!

-he would fucking love 100 gecs.

-sometimes if he goes long enough without sleep he’ll just . fall over and pass out no matter what he’s doing. in mid-battle, while experimenting in the lab, while eating pizza, you name it. mans going DOWN. the other turtles have a protocol ready for it in every situation possible.

-he does 15 hour twitch streams that are literally just a live feed of himself inventing building and exploding various new things in the lab. he got 50 viewers once and he refused to shut up about it for a week straight.

-he HATES vegetables. soft shell turtles are primarily carnivores, and he has sensory issues with food texture especially, so he’s SUPER picky.

-however, that being said, he can and will eat bugs.

-his favorite type of pizza is anchovy and olive.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello #rise donnie #rise donatello #autistic donnie #headcanons #save rise of the tmnt #he’s the blorbo from my shows #my camera roll is just filled with photos of him and only him #he’s so babygirl #ziggy speaks

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aurora-veil · 9 months

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Thought I'd make an OC ask game with a couple questions I haven't really seen!

BIOLOGICAL INFO:

📄 Name/pronouns/age/species all that good stuff

📏 How tall are they?

🥾 What's their shoe size?

🌍 What accent do they have?

PERSONALITY:

🏙 Do they prefer rural or urban environments?

🚪Are they introverted or extroverted?

💤 What's their sleep schedule like?

🍽 What's their favorite flavor or dish?

🦠 Do they get sick easily or is their immune system stronger?

🏀 Have they played sports? What are they best at?

🪡 How's the homeliness? Can they consistently do things like thread a needle?

🍳 Can they cook?

👻 Deepest fear?

🎵 Favorite genre of music?

💍 Do they wear jewelry? Watches? Etc?

☔️ Do they like the rain?

🍂 Favorite season?

👥 Are they good at socializing? How much do they talk?

💢 Are they quick to anger? Are they a fighter?

🗡 Do they use a weapon? What is it?

BACKSTORY:

👨‍👩‍👧‍👧 Do they have siblings?

💵 How much money did they have growing up?

🩻 Have they broken a bone?

🫠 What's the most embarrassing memory of their life?

RELATIONSHIPS:

💋 Have they kissed someone?

💖 Have they been in a committed relationship?

💔 Any messy breakups?

🥄 Are they cuddly/touchy? Big spoon or little spoon?

💝 What's their love language?

SILLY QUESTIONS:

🗣Are they the type of person to argue over stuff like cereal being soup?

🦁 Do they think 1 billion lions or one of every Pokémon would win in a fight to the death? Do they tell people something else?

🍕 Pineapple on pizza? How about anchovies? Corn?

Be sure to send an ask to the person you reblog from! <3

#ask game #oc ask game #oc asks

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inkwellbats · 15 days

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Cheslock (Black Butler) headcanons just because I can (project onto characters)

He’s the kid literally everyone hated in elementary/middle school for absolutely no reason

If he was a shade of purple he’d be a really dark, inky purple (you know when you splatter out black ink and it looks purple?)

Cat person (obviously, I mean, he looks like a cat)

Cheslock probably sits like a limp anchovy (see below) because he is hunched over sheet music studying it or a piano CONSISTENTLY

I mean, look, that’s artist posture if ever I’ve seen it.

He probably has ADHD (trust)

Also, that leg bouncing thing, he probably does it all the time

Favorite food: Blackberry tarts

Least favorite food: Licorice of any sort (ate too much and spoiled the candy as a whole)

I have a lack of ideas about where Cheslock’s scar came from other than edgy parent backstory which I refuse to write because it’s so unoriginal but what if it’s from getting slashed with some kind of musical saw?

ALSO I BET HE PLAYS HIS VIOLIN ON THE ROOF OF THE DORM SOMETIMES WHICH IS REALLY COOL BUT DON’T TRY IT AT HOME

Lets the dahlias from his coat pocket wilt in a jar on his windowsill

I am trying so, so hard not to spoil anything from the blue cult arc. We must stay focused, comrades

Big sibling :)

Reckless with himself, but careful to others (except Orphans Who Shall Not Be Named and people from other houses/who betrayed him)

Also, I have a strange feeling that he’s not from a rich family? He probably got into Weston on a scholarship (AGAIN IT IS SO HARD TO PROVE THIS WITHOUT SPOILING STUFF. I AM SWEATING.)

Cheslock has a strong sense of justice, like if someone were to wrong him or his friends, he’d either seek it himself or wait for justice to be served on its own.

Guys this is your Threatening Neutral Reminder to READ THE MANGA SO I CAN TALK ABOUT IT

He is the type to drag someone to the nurse if they were hurt and wouldn’t go themself.

”I’m not THAT hurt-“ “No, c’mon, y’re going.” *pulls shirt collar*

Sometimes just screams randomly in his room

GUYS I LIKE WRITING THESE SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2?

#kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji season 4 #black butler #cheslock #black butler public school arc #black butler headcanons #cheslock headcanons

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the-trans-advice-blog · 2 months

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as a black genderfucked lesbian who is american, watching white american queers argue over stuff sometimes feels so.......like. hollow. or shallow. in a way. i dont know how to explain it. like it just feels like "lol. lmao even" because yes i GUESS these are valid concerns but you guys................can we focus on why you guys never include black people, or almost any nonwhite folks in your little rants that border on tantrums. i mean EYEEEEE know why but do YOUUU know why? i dont know. it just makes it hard to navigate because they're fighting battles i would never think to pick up simply because its like okay yes thats a problem but there is a giant tuna sitting on the grill rn i am not worried about anchovies

EXACTLY. It’s so exhausting being black and trans and trying to exist in trans spaces. White trans people never consider trans people of color when they’re talking about the community as a whole it’s so frustrating. Trying to find things that were useful to me as a younger trans person was pretty much impossible and sorta still is :’) Don’t even get me started on all the “trans stereotypes” that only ever include white people. I have never once related to any of that shit.

I truly wish it was easier for trans people or color to take up space in this community.

#marshal answers #transgender #trans #transmasc #ftm #lgbt #trans guy #ftm trans #nb #mtf #transfem #queer #trans poc #queer poc

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powderblueblood · 3 months

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GETTING TO KNOW YOUR EDDIE

— the 411 on the loser playboy of the midwestern world

Tagged by @jo-harrington & @deathbecomesthem who got this stunning prompt on the road, love this love youse

let’s talk MUNSON!

What story is he from? What kind of story is it (Fix-it fic, Older!Eddie, Rockstar!Eddie etc)? The Eddie darling that takes up prime real estate in my brain is of course Hellfire & Ice Eddie, which is a teen romantic-dramadey with sprinkles of crime capers on top. We meet him at 18 years of age, drug dealin’, Dungeon wheelin’, at the absolute top of his bottom of the food chain game. He’s all raw nerve and engine sputter, our consummate not ready for prime time player. He is brassy, ballsy, funny, terrified.

What inspired you to write this Eddie? Flight of Icarus, actually! It reignited my initial love for him by basically confirming what I had already known to be true—he’s a little bitch that’ll take any opportunity to be struck down lovesick and he’s doomed by his bloodline.

What are your favorite headcanons about him/share something you never shared in your story? Eddie runs on a full tank of defiance, just burning rubber against what’s expected of kids his age—but to zoom in? Eddie sometimes wonders what it would be like if he was different. Tried harder. Cut his hair, joined the basketball team, really pulled himself up by his bootstraps and divorced himself from his stain of a last name. Folded in and blended, made all the right moves. Why couldn’t I do that? he thinks, Just pretend. I’m good at making shit up. But that’s selling out. And Eddie Munson is no sell out—rap sheet or no, his life is his own.

What does he wear on a casual day? On a dressier day? What does he wear to bed? Casual day, it’s your cartoon character stock costume of insert band t-shirt here, ripped jeans there, doubled up battle vest and leather cut to top it all off. There might be a variant in jean shade but that’s it. He likes to stick to a look. The dressiest he’ll go (he does not own dressy clothes) is a black cable knit sweater, very old, with the thumb holes worried through the cuffs. To bed, preferably nothing, but boxers of absolutely necessary and a very old, ratty pair of flannel PJ bottoms and an old t-shirt or a faded sweatshirt of Wayne’s if it’s freezing.

Favorite foods? This FUCK loves a pizza with the most fuckass toppings. Anchovy, black olive, pepperoni, sweetcorn (for the vitamins!), pineapple (for the jizz thing!) all on the one pie. But he can cook, to an extent, and we unfortunately have to hand this to ex-line cook Al who taught him how to grill a cheese and make a bitchin’ spaghetti with honeyed tomato gravy and lots of oregano. Eddie also loves a snack he can gesticulate with, see: Twizzler, corn dog, ice pop. Bordering on phallic foods.

Tell Us About His Family/Friends: Immediately in the gene pool—Al, the absent and up-to-no-good father who somehow still has a knife in Eddie’s side and will twist it with the simple words, “C’mon, that’s my boy!” Wayne, uncle and father figure, silent but loving and the only real pillar Eddie could ever lean against, and he feels like such a burden for it sometimes. Elizabeth, mommy dearest and dead, canonised like a saint in Eddie’s mind, and might have been but also might not have been. The root of his love of music and his need to tell stories to survive. The found-by-the-hand-of fate family— Ronnie Ecker, the Stalter to his Waldorf, the Bonham to his Page, the only person he’d ever follow into battle because you wouldn’t think it but Ronnie, who is secretly rage akimbo, would accidentally lead that charge. He loves her like a sister, she loves him like a dog. Just kidding. Maybe. He wants to be Ronnie Ecker when he grows up. Granny Ecker comes as part of this deal, one of the people credited with whooping Eddie into shape. We don’t quite know what shape yet, it’s Picassoan in nature. Then, the extension again that is the great Corroded Coffin/Hellfire crossover event—Jeff, Cyrus, Dougie and Gareth. He’s not quite as close with the boys, but they’re good boys. They love and fear him, except for Cyrus who is a true enigma which pisses Eddie off because he’s supposed to be the fucking enigma here, dammit.

Yeah Yeah, he's a Metalhead. Tell Us MORE About His Taste in Music in your story: We are working off Flight of Icarus rules so he’s got a taste in the mouth for Howlin’ Wolf style blues, real down and dirty Detroit shit. He also loves a sleazeball, so enter Tom Waits and when he’s feeling REALLY sentimental, Leonard Cohen. Eddie loves to bite a thumb so he has some punk spinning too—Richard Hell, MC5, The Cramps, and reluctantly Iggy and the Stooges. They’re Al’s favourite so kind of tainted. Last but not least, I think that Johnny Cash’s Live From Folsom Prison album gets a lot of play. Particularly Cocaine Blues and Dark in the Dungeon, which he’s definitely incorporated into some campaign. He does NOT listen to CHICK MUSIC because he’s a loser boy (Wayne has a Linda Ronstadt record that makes him cry).

What are his views on romance? On sex? Eddie Munson falls in love fourteen times a day because at the be all and end all, he’s an artist and he’s sensitive as shit. Let’s get one thing straight—he can flirt to beat the band, once anyone gives him the time of day. Which they don’t. But in his mind? He’s a silver tongued Casanova. It’s just easier to use on people he hates. Once he has a crush, he has an obsession, even if he’s oftentimes too chickenshit to act on it. Cue pulling pigtails in the playground routine. He wants so badly to worship someone and be worshipped in return, okay, it’s reciprocal worshipping—give him mutual pathological obsession or give him DEATH. He wants to build a shrine, and will, to the right person. He’ll preoccupy his mind with every detail about them to the point where, yeah, it is borderline kind of stalkery but he’s still 18 years old. Speaking of, sex? Yeah, he’s done it. Badly. He’s like to do it again, goodly. He’d like to do it with someone that wasn’t treating it like an experiment, someone who’d let him slobber all over them and rut and keen and whine like the hound in heat he fucking feels like. He has no goddamn control! He experiences pleasure in a total headrush, never been able to stay cool and sexy and commanding a day in his life. He just wants, wants, wants and he burns so hot. Eddie wants so clumsily that it comes out at the most inappropriate times, like the nurse’s office after he gets his fist busted. He’s not some sex god, just some dick with an overeager cock. But he sure is willing to put in the work.

Is he optimistic or pessimistic? Pessimistic on the surface, the life is shit and then you die so might as well do some whippits poster boy but so so secretly, Eddie holds the tiniest flame of hope that someday, somehow, things will get better. At the very least easier. That he’ll grow into his bones somehow, or someone will help soothe him into them. That he’ll feel some kind of belonging. Because he does want that, really. Some soft place to land.

Where or with whom is he most comfortable? Those pockets of alchemy at Hellfire Club when he’s got a rapt audience. With Ronnie, sitting on the sagging couch outside his trailer. Playing chauffeur to a certain princess across-the-way.

What are his views of his future? What are his hopes/dreams? Pie in the sky? Cover of Circus with his cheeks out, duh. A Grammy or two, his own metal club, a published fantasy author, shit. He’s not askin’ for the world, here! But honestly, Eddie’s view of his future is 18 year old misanthropist bleak. He hasn’t even considered college as an option, not that he’d get there with his grades. He figures he might just start selling full time for Rick once (if) he graduates then hopefully have the good enough sense to take his money and split to Chicago or someplace. Might hit it lucky when he’s played in a couple more iterations of Corroded Coffin and con someone into letting him be a session guitarist—which wouldn’t be the cover of Circus, but would still be a huge deal! But as much as an ego game as he likes to talk, he’s got this terrible, looming feeling that he’ll never leave Hawkins alive.

What do you imagine his future looks like? (If your story is incomplete or if this would be a spoiler you're not willing to share, you can skip this question.) I’ll give you a couple details, because I am writing a sequel about this. Picture a brief stint in Indianapolis. Meaner, grizzlier, bartender-ier, going on a decade of heartbreak, performing at his sexual best but nearing burnout and about to turn 30 with some side dealings at home that are edging out of the side and into the forefront. Heavy is the hand that wears the ring. You look so much like your father!

Anything else you'd like us to know about your Eddie/your story? He is so full of love and piss and vinegar. He is going to end up cherished. Like, violently so.

Optional Vulnerable Question: Why do you write fics for Eddie Munson? I love a tragedy touched smartass who folds at the first sign of affection. I want to nourish him and eat him up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Or have Lacy do it for me, whatever.

tagging: YOU. READING THIS. Not KIDDING IF YOURE READING THIS GET TO WORK

#YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY #you can tell I came up through rp by reading this #wrote on mobile so if you see typos NO U DIDNT!#e. munson by powder #hai brainrot

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glass--beach · 3 months

Note

what's your pasta sauce recipe?

my recipe is very loose and i do it differently every time but it basically goes like this:

chop up a shallot and ~5 cloves of garlic

cook the shallot in olive oil, throw some kosher salt on it, then once it’s starting to get reduced and browned add garlic

let the garlic go for just a second, important not to over cook it at this step, then throw in an anchovy or two + tomato paste

(i know a lot of people hate anchovies and it’s def optional but it adds a very nice savoriness in a very small dose like this, and ive had people who dont like anchovies enjoy this)

sometimes i’ll add some chopped up mushrooms here if we feel like it, and once in a blue moon some chopped up fennel, though lately we haven’t been adding that stuff

next! if i have red wine, i’ll deglaze the pan with it. (aka pour some in, scrape up any residue, let the wine reduce) we usually like to get a cheap wine to cook with and a nicer one to drink. real italian chianti is peak for this

once the wine has reduced, add one 28oz can of cento san marzano peeled tomatoes! this brand is best out of everything we’ve tried, but any peeled tomatoes or tomato sauce will work, whole tomatoes will taste fresher imo but will take a while to break down. which brings us to the next step…

put a lid on the pan but leave it just the tiniest bit open, and let it go on low for as long as it takes to get it where you want it. ill break up the tomatoes with a wooden spoon to help it along. it’s edible at any point in the process but the tomatoes will break down more and more and the flavor will get richer. ill taste it frequently - home chef pro tip: just taste stuff constantly and add whatever it seems like it needs, the more you play with this the more you’ll get an intuition for what spices/herbs/whatever are needed, and if it just seems overall lacking it probably needs more salt - and ill add stuff like dried italian herbs, chopped fresh basil, kosher salt to taste, and just the tiniest bit of ground nutmeg. also bc i’m a freak who loves acidity i find a tiny bit of balsamic can add something to it. if the sauce reduces too much to where it could burn ill mix in a bit of water.

while thats going i’ll cook whatever pasta i’m gonna have with it and if we want meat in the sauce (usually ground beef or italian sausage) i’ll cook it in olive oil in a separate pan with a tiny bit of chopped garlic & salt, set it aside, then mix it into the sauce right before serving

then fresh basil and grated pecorino romano on top if we have it! this is a recipe i do all the time and experiment with a lot, this is so complicated bc there’s a lot of options, but sometimes it’ll just be garlic, shallot and tomato sauce and still taste pretty good. just a matter of what we have on hand and how fancy i’m feeling. thanks for asking i love cooking and i love talking about cooking

#asks

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olsenmyolsen · 1 year

Text

Facetime With My Mom (Tonight)

Part 3 of On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: ~2.6K

masterlist

Robbie POV

Waking up on the floor from my drunken stupor at five in the evening is not how I'd expect today to go. But it's what I deserve after the things I said to Lizzie. My love. My fiance. I didn't mean to hurt her. I wanted to let her know what I was feeling, but I was chasing her out of our Richmond home before I knew it.

That was three days ago.

I know by now she's back home. Or at least I hope. She has yet to call or text me, and I don't blame her. But I know she misses me, and I love her. I'm not going to give up.

After giving myself a much-needed shower and putting some of Lizzie's gross anchovy toast into my stomach, I decided to sit on our bed and call her. It's six now, so L.A. time it's..... ten in the morning. She'll probably be gardening, taking care of her little kiddos. She hates it when I call them that, but everyone knows she can be such a mom.

Okay, stop stalling, Robbie.

I unlock my phone and go to our text messages. My heart breaks a little looking at the last several texts I sent her. All left on DELIVERED.

I click on the call button, and to my surprise, I hear her angelic voice.

L: "Hello."

R: "Lizzie! Are you safe?"

L: "Yes, I am."

I can feel tension over the phone. I pause, thinking about how I want this conversation to continue.

R: "Lizzie I-."

L: "Why are you calling me?"

R: "Well, I haven't heard anything from you for three days, Lizzie. I was starting to get worried."

I hear Lizzie let out a heavy breath.

L: "Were you starting to get worried, or are you worried? There's a clear difference and let's not forget that you were the one that said you were having second thoughts and-"

She's right.

R: "Lizzie, I'm sorry. I know I hurt you, but that was not my intention-"

I hear Lizzie, and someone else starts laughing before Lizzie shushes whoever else is with her.

R: "Lizzie, are you laughing at me? Who are you with?"

L: "No, I'm not laughing at you, Robbie. Something funny just happened in front of me. Look, listen, I got to go. We can finish this talk later."

R: "Wait, Liz-"

L: "Alright."

R: "Elizabeth, I love you."

L: "Alright. See you later."

She didn't say it. The line goes dead. Once again, I'm left alone with my thoughts. I drop my phone onto our bed and begin dragging my feet into the kitchen. I grab the nearest bottle of brown bourbon, making a promise to myself to drink until I can't remember.

Y/N POV

I close the door to my apartment and lean my back against it. I let out the one squeal I've been holding in since she left me earlier. I know I shouldn't be freaking out. I mean, yes, it's a date, but it's not like a date date, right? We're just friends.

But she is insanely attractive, dresses so cool, her voice is soothing and cute, plus she makes me so comfortable and omg, I need to pick out an outfit! I sprint into my bedroom and rush head first into the closet.

"Now she said I don't have to wear anything too fancy, but what does that reallllly mean?"

I rip out half of my closet, searching for the perfect item, and after an hour, nothing calls to me. I flop myself onto the pile of clothes on my bed in frustration. Without realizing it, I begin to call my Mom.

M: "Y/N, are you alright?"

Y/N: "Yes, Mom, I'm fine. I just need some help."

M: "Some help? Help with what, darling?"

Y/N: "I'm going out with a friend tonight, and I have no idea what to wear!"

M: "This is what you called me about? Seriously?"

Y/N: "Yes, seriously, Mom. It's important, please!"

M: "Okay, Y/N."

Y/N: "Okay, let's switch to FaceTime."

M: "How do I do that again?"

After painfully walking my Mom through the simple steps of modern technology, she begins to help me. However, over a half hour later, I quickly realized that she has no idea how I dress and what looks good. So I'm sadly back to step one.

M: "Y/N."

Y/N: "Yes." I responded, frustrated.

M: "If you're going to continue having an attitude, I'll hang up. I raised you better than that."

I walk off screen to mock her and throw my hands up at her.

M: "Y/N?"

I walk back in frame so she can see me.

Y/N: "You're right. I'm sorry." I lie.

M: "That's okay. Now, what about the black piece under your Taylor Swift Cardigan?"

I look for what she is talking about. Oh, this! I pick it up and hold it up to the camera.

M: "What do you think?"

I do like it, but I don't think it's good enough for Liz, but she told me not to wear anything too fancy. So I guess this should be okay? Plus, it's black, and black looks good all the time, right? I'm so tired of looking at my clothes, so this will have to do.

Y/N: "I think it could work. Thank you, Mom!"

M: "Of course, dear. Y/N promise me you'll call soon so we can have an honest talk about your life.

No.

Y/N: I promise

M: Now go get ready!"

Y/N: "Okay. Bye, Mom! Love you!"

M: "Love you too."

After hanging up with my Mom, a rush of panic runs over me as I realize how many texts I've missed from Liz.

Liz - Sexy ☕️ Bitch

Today 1:13 PM

I hope whenever you see this, you enjoy the name 🤍

Today 2:07 PM

You haven't seen my text yet 🥺

Today 2:43 PM

Oh completely forgot to send the address for tonight, so here you go! I can't wait! (address attached)

Today 3:37 PM

Hey Y/N, did you make it home okay? Please text me when you see this.

Today 4:04 PM

Suppose you're having second thoughts about tonight. I'm sorry I feel like I'm pushing you. Please text me or call me, so I at least know you are safe, but if you don't want to, I can understand. I'm sorry.

Oh my God! I've had Liz worrying this whole time. And Jesus, she is so fucking cute with all these texts. But oh my God, I'm an asshole!

Today 4:14 PM

Hey, I am so sorry! Yes, I'm alive. I just saw these texts!!! I just got off the phone with my Mom. She was helping me pick out an outfit for our date! I'm so excited! I just clicked on the link, and it's somewhere I've never been to, so now I'm extra excited!

The link could've been to a fucking Mcdonald's, and I would've still said what I awkwardly said.

Oh shit, she's typing.

Today 4:14 PM

Y/N, omg, I'm so glad you're alright. I swear I was about to go search all over the city.

I'm so so so sorry for making you worry! Can you forgive me?

I'll think about it! Okay, I thought about it. Yeah, I forgive you lol

(Aww, that's cute. She still uses lol)

Whew, thank you, Liz

So do you like it?

Like what?

My name in your phone?

It's perfect.

😊 so you going to tell me what you're wearing tonight or is it a surprise?

Hmmmmmm A surprise But don't expect something crazy

😒 finneeee

Hey, I don't need any sas from you, Miss.

I'm glad you remembered Miss not Ma'am like a good girl. So I'll see you at 7. Don't be late

I practically throw my phone across the room after reading that last text! Good girl! Good girl, she said! She has to know what she's doing! Right? Fuck, this actually might be a date date! How me? Why me? Oh shit, I need to start getting ready NOW!

After giving myself the most needed shower in history, I sat on the floor debating on what shoes I wanted to pair with my black bishop sleeve dress. I think heels would work, but I hate wearing them, so I'm going to hedge my bet and wear my black vans to match. Liz did say it wasn't too fancy of a place!

I slip on the dress and walk into my bathroom to look myself over once more. Even before Naomi ruined me, I don't think I ever looked at myself more than I have tonight. It was not exactly easy when all you've been told is how unattractive you are and how lucky you should be that even be graced in the presence of someone who was supposed to love you no matter what.

I reach my hand out and touch the mirror of my hand. Yep this person looking back at me is me. Tonight I don't look at myself with hate and disgust. This is a moment I hope to save. I look down at my counter space and search through all my bathroom drawers and cabinets until I spot my make-up bag.

"Let's do this, huh?"

Liz POV

(What Liz is wearing tonight and awww, look cute, Aubrey)

"I should've just had someone pick her up. What was I thinking?" I look at my phone - 7:04. Where the hell is she? I run my hand through my hair. "Y/N would've told me if she was backing out. She's probably rushing to get here. I trust her." I put my head into my hands. My mind is spiraling into a panic, and the constant thoughts of the last three days don't help. But seeing and meeting Y/N has been a bright light. Literally, since I saw her that first day, I can't help but think of her being all cute while reading my order back to me. I feel drawn to her, and I can't explain it.

"Liz?"

I look up, and it's her. She's here!

"Y/N!" I walk up to her and hug her. I feel like I caught her off guard because the hug she gives me back isn't a full one. "You ready?"

"Yeah, sorry I'm a little late. I got turned around at one point, and........" I hear her, and I'm trying to process what she is saying, but it's slowly becoming gibberish as my eyes start wondering. Y/N is doing things to me right now. Who knew just a black dress and vans could look so good on someone. My eyes work back to her face and her cherry-red-covered lips. She's beautiful.

"Liz?" Y/N breaks my thoughts. "We going inside?" I nod, grab her hand, and head in. I make a beeline to the hostess. The hostess looks us up and down with a stank face. Bitch.

"Name?"

Now for my favorite part. "MK," I say in my most bitchy voice. I watch from the corner of my eye Y/N look at me, confused, before looking back to the hostess, flustered and embarrassed.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, Mar-MK. I didn't recognize you with your sunglasses on and your new friend. Please give me one moment." I watch her squirm and phone someone. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy this.

The hostess ends the call as a waiter dressed in all-white tux approaches.

"Walter will be taking care of the two of you tonight. Once again, MK, I apologize for my ignorance tonight. I hope you and your friend can forgive me." The pleads fall on deaf ears as I pull Y/N to follow Walter to our private table.

I look back at Y/N, who has a face painted with amazement. Everyone in this place screams money, and I feel a little regret bringing Y/N to such a place on the first date. Once we reach our table, I pull a chair out for Y/N. She thanks me as I take a seat opposite her. Before Walter can even ask, I answer. "Red." Walter nods his head and disappears.

"Okay, what the fuck was all of that!" I don't think I've ever heard anyone this giddy before. I smile and explain that I used my sister's name to get us a table here and that fucking with the snobby people is all good fun. Y/N laughs, and it warms my heart to see that after seeing how she was at the park. Walter returns with two glasses and a handpicked bottle of Red.

"For you and your friend."

"Thank you, Walter." I address the man but stare at Y/N as she ogles everything around her. She's so cute.

"I shall be back momentarily." Walter leaves us, allowing my date with Y/N to begin properly.

I grab my glass as Y/N follows suit. "To tonight and everything that comes with it." Y/N and I share a smile as we each take a sip.

Comfortable silence begins to build. I don't mind because it gives me time to get lost thinking about the woman in front of me.

"So, do you just wear those sunglasses all the time, or are you hiding something?" I smirk at her question. "And what if I am hiding something?" She leans in. "Then I'd like for you to share it with me." Okay, Liz, moment of truth. I feel my nerves working their way up my body. Y/N would've known by now. I don't want to brag, but I'm Elizabeth Olsen!

I remove my sunglasses and set them on the table. I look Y/N straight in her eyes. I watch them go from eager to wide. Oh no. This was a mistake. "Wow." Is all Y/N can manage to spurt out of her mouth. I panic. "I know, Y/N! I feel like I should've to-"

"Your eyes." I stop in my tracks. "What Y/N?"

"Your eyes are so beautiful." Is this happening? "I mean, now I can clearly see you. You are so beautiful, Liz, but your eyes are like hiding their own little emerald forest inside them. Wow." I feel the butterflies inside of me multiply.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry- I shouldn't-" Y/N's eyes divert to the wine glass and then back to me. "What did Walter put in this?" Y/N asks, taking another sip, causing me to hunch over laughing. "Walter sure knows how to pick them, huh?" I respond, watching Y/N giggle to herself. Okay. So she really has no idea who I am.

"So the whole point of this dinner was to get to know each other. So let's start." I don't want to waste any more time. I want to know Y/N.

"Okay, I'll try not to struggle, but no promises, Liz." Y/N gives a half-hearted smile. She seems to get nervous when attention is shown her way. Or maybe it's just me? "Y/N, I just want you to know tonight is supposed to be fun, so there is no pressure here. Tell me if we get onto a topic you don't feel comfortable with. Okay?" I assure her. Y/N shines me a smile that could light up the world till the end of time. "Thank you, Liz."

"Of course. Let's each take a big sip of this wine, and then I'll ask a question." Without another word, a chug of wine goes down my throat. Y/N once again follows suit.

Part 4

#fanfic #elizabeth olsen x reader #lizzie olsen #wanda maximoff #OTIWEO #y/n #elizabeth olsen x y/n #fluff #taylor swift #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth chase olsen #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen icons #wandavision #scarlet witch #lizzie x y/n #lizzie olsen is the best #hot lizzie

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andreaphobia · 1 year

Text

P5R Pilgrimage: I ❤️ Akechi Goro

Finding out the jazz club really exists was the highlight of this trip :)

As usual, more pics and screenshot comparisons under the cut!

First, a quick detour to talk about Penguin Sniper...

There’s actually a number of darts bars in Kichijoji, but I didn’t manage to find any that gave me Penguin Sniper vibes (do message me if you know of one, though!). In the first place, I’d always wondered why a bunch of high schoolers were allowed into a darts bar at all -- you’d expect it to have an older clientele and probably serve alcohol, fr’instance.

Then, after scrolling around the map for a bit, I noticed there’s actually a ROUND1 on the Kichijoji SUNROAD main strip. ROUND1 is an amusement store chain, kind of like an arcade that offers activities like bowling, karaoke, billiards, and darts. Since it’s an amusement center, even elementary schoolers are allowed, though I think there’s some kind of curfew for kids.

So in this particular ROUND1, the darts machines and pool tables are on the same floor...

The layout of the room is pretty close, I’d say, although the RL “bar” is actually a cashier, not a place to eat. The machines in front of the bar let you sign up for play sessions.

I thought about playing a game of darts but decided against it. x) Next time I’ll bring a friend!

Fun note: some of the dart machines make the exact same sound effects that are used in the minigame in P5R. I had a mild out of body experience hearing them go beep boop IRL xd

Anyway back to the jazz bar. XD Even the stairs down to the bar are reproduced faithfully.

The lunch menu, for interest! (I had a lunch set of an anchovy and olive tomato sauce spaghetti with a latte au lait, a slice of cheesecake, and a lime soda. Yeah ok I pigged out. I blame Akechi)

I got lucky, arriving about half an hour before the first show was scheduled, so the place was pretty empty and I got a seat at the bar. The cover charge was 1500 yen; I stayed and watched for an hour. :D

youtube

Satou Tatsuya on sax and Michishita Kazuhiko on guitar -- hopefully I didn’t butcher the romanization of their names!

The seats depicted in the game give the best view of the live performances, and are reservation only...although for reasons of needing to face the in-game camera, you will notice that they are looking at a wall instead of the actual performance. XD

(Also, in my head this means that Akechi reserved seats for them on their date there, ahead of time. It’s how it works in real life, so it must be true!)

I took a couple of photos after customers cleared out between shows. You can see the grand piano as well as the raised seated area behind the stage, and the additional restaurant seating on the right -- there’s stairs leading both up and down to more tables.

Just a close-up of the “stage”.

A funny aside that has little to do with Akechi -- while I was sitting there enjoying my food and the music, I noticed that several other customers had with them what looked an AWFUL lot like a single American dollar. Obviously the bar is in Japan so I was wondering wtf was going on; genuinely thought I was losing my mind. Or maybe it was like some kind of secret code that I wasn’t aware of...???? IDK, I was spiraling lmao

It turns out it’s actually your check. (A dollar “bill,” I suppose.............)

Even with the cover charge, the bill came to like $30. Pretty worth for the semi-religious experience of watching a jazz performance at Akechi’s favorite place.

Ending things off with an evening shot of the place lit up :)

That’s it!

I’ve actually got more photos and videos from a couple of other places like Akihabara and the cafe that possibly inspired Leblanc, but...I’m getting tired of doing these xd So this may or may not be the last one, at least for now!

Hope y’all enjoyed the posts :D

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #akechi goro #shuake #akeshu #p5 pilgrimage #my stuff

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r3drashii · 7 months

Text

pikmin 4 incorrect quotes ^-^

Dingo: If I say I love you, will you say it back?

Shepard: Yes.

Dingo: I love you.

Shepard: It back.

*Later*

Bernard: Why is Dingo crying face-down on the floor?

Pom: What’s it like being tall?

Pom: Is it nice?

Pom: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Yonny: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Bernard: It was one time!

Dingo: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Yonny periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’

Dingo: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.

Shepard: *trying to get five seconds of sleep*

Bernard, poking Shepard’s arm: Shepard Shepard. Shepard. Shepard.

Shepard: WHAT?

Bernard: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Shepard: Hey, Yonny, where are you going?

Yonny: Well, it depends. When I die, probably hell.

Yonny: But right now I’m going to McDonald’s.

Dingo: Let’s write Bernard a friendly note, shall we? Dear... Incompetent... Dumbass…

Shepard: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan.

Dingo: We could attack them with hummus.

Shepard: I stand corrected.

Dingo: Just keeping things in perspective.

Shepard: Alright, listen up you little shits.

Shepard: Not you Pom. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

Yonny: *eating a cinnamon roll*

Dingo: Cannibalism.

Yonny: *confused chewing noises*

Collin: A person can really hear themselves think out here.

Collin’s mind: Did you leave the stove on? The front door unlocked!? WILL YOU DIE ALONE!?

Collin: Well, that was a mistake.

Bernard: No problemo!

Bernard, internally: But it was all problemo.

Bernard: Yonny and I were crossing the street, and this man drove by and honked at us.

Collin: What did you do?

Bernard: They chased him to the next red light, and reached into his window, and-

Yonny: *walking in* Who wants a steering wheel?

Dingo: I hate you.

Yonny: Well, according to this picture I drew of us holding hands, that is untrue.

Yonny, texting: Answer your phone

Dingo, texting back: Wait a minute, I can’t find my phone

Yonny: Understood

Yonny, 5 minutes later: You’re a terrible person. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing me, Dingo.

Dingo: Wait a minute, how did this happen? We're smarter than this!

Shepard: Apparently, we're not.

Dingo: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Yonny:

Yonny: Why are you eating dirt?

Dingo: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

Yonny: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices.

Yonny: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Collin: Well, needless to say. Uh-oh Spaghetti-os.

Yonny: I got us matching friendship bracelets, and you say I don't care about our relationship.

Dingo: These are handcuffs.

Yonny: Yeah, 'cause we're partners in crime!

Dingo: I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness—

Yonny: Hi.

Dingo: *melts down in a flustered heap of softness*

Kidnapper: I have one of your friends.

Pom: Which one? I have seven.

Kidnapper: The loud, annoying, rowdy one who never shuts up.

Pom: Which one? I have seven.

Bernard, distantly: HEY!!!

Pom: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism.

Dingo: And you came to me?

Dingo: I don't dab. I stab.

Shepard: You really believe in Dingo?

Bernard: Luckily, they believe in themself enough for the both of us.

Dingo: Sweet dog you got there.

Police: Yes, this is our new drug sniffing dog.

Dingo: Still training huh?

Police: What do you mean?

Dingo:

Dingo: Never mind.

Shepard: Alright, what pizza toppings should we order?

Dingo: Anchovies and pineapple.

Pom: I like beets!

Yonny: Have you guys ever had a cheese-less pizza?

Shepard: I’m disowning all of you.

Dingo: You use emojis like a straight person.

Yonny: That’s literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me.

Dingo: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one.

Bernard, talking to Dingo: Well Dingo, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Yonny do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing.

Dingo: …

Yonny, from the distance: They’re not wrong though!

Dingo: Is stabbing someone immoral?

Yonny: Not if they consent to it.

Bernard: Depends on who you're stabbing.

Collin: YES??!!?

Bernard: I’m so happy two of my favorite people are getting along now.

Shepard: Uh, Dingo and Pom are not getting along.

Bernard: They’re not trying to kill each other.

Shepard: You may have a point.

Shepard: Yesterday, I overheard Bernard saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Yonny replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

Collin: Which one of you was going to tell me that tea tastes different if you put it in hot water??

Dingo: Y- you were putting it in cold water??

Shepard: Collin. Answer the question, Collin.

Collin: Yeah??? I thought people just put it in hot water to speed up the tea-ification process. didn't realize there was an actual reason.

Collin: Plus you think I have the patience to boil water?

Dingo: You don't have the patience to microwave water for 3 minutes??

Shepard: Why are you putting it in the microwave to boil it?

Dingo: Do you think I have the patience to boil water on the stove?

Shepard: It takes less than a minute.

Dingo: Is your stovetop powered by the fucking sun???

Shepard: How long does it take you to boil a cup of water on the stove?

Dingo: Like seven minutes??

Bernard: Just stick the mug on top of the stove on medium heat and it boils in like 2 minutes... less than that if you use a saucepan!

Shepard: Why are you putting the whole mug on the stove?? On medium heat?? Bernard? Your stove is enchanted!

Collin: Every single person here is a fucking lunatic.

Pom: Do none of you own a fucking kettle?!

Bernard: I'm having problems with a guy...

Yonny: Like his dead body won't fit into your trunk kind of problems, or you like him kind of problems?

#pikmin #pikmin 4 #pom pikmin #shepherd pikmin #collin pikmin #dingo pikmin #bernard pikmin #yonny pikmin #rescue corps pikmin #incorrect quotes #rambling :]

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 8 months

Note

Me: Wow Jimin doing a house tour wth how

JM: proceed to walk around his house only showing the ceiling

Me: i knew it i would never

JM: Goes back showing his workout room and a room

Me: how the world changed overnight

Translation: This is my equipment room and the room my parents stay in when they visit

why did i expect more i should have known by now he excels in showing only thing he judges are meaningless. Also love how happy he was showing his mood lamp

What did Jungkook say, that cuteness covers everything?

He's absolutely right, it's so easy to find Jimin endearing regardless of what he does. Of course the house tour would look like that. I was shocked he showed the secret gym room and his mood lamp! That's a lot.

When he talks, when he does a tour, everything is being executed in a way that gives us something, but not too much. Did you see what he said about the IG picture? He was laughing that he looked like an anchovy. As if that's the only thing he had in mind when he posted and it's all people are talking about. Totally ignoring the elephant in the room. He's annoying and adorable at the same time

And he can still look like a baby 🤧

#jimin #jimin live #m thoughts

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roseddraws · 8 months

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Everything stays (but it still changes)

Chapter one

There is a man watching Martyn.

He caught sight of the man out of the corner of his eye a few minutes ago, a glimpse of red fabric at the edge of the firelight. He stays in the shadow of the trees on the edge of the clearing, completely hidden if you don’t know where to look. He doesn’t know he’s been spotted— or at least, Martyn hopes so.

He hasn’t attacked him so far, so Martyn can only assume the man is also struggling to decide what to do with him (i.e. whether it would be worth it to kill him). He slowly moves his hand to his hatchet, keeping his head facing forwards as he nibbles on his hard-earned fish (he’s not sure what kind it is. A sardine? Anchovy?). The smart thing to do would be to move first, while he still has the upper hand. The smart thing to do would be to attack the man before he attacks first.

“You gonna say hello or just watch me from the shadows like a creep?” Martyn turns his head to look at the figure, who jolts and steps back. He’s never claimed to be a smart man, okay?

The man hesitates, then steps out into the light, revealing himself. He’s wearing a torn red flannel that’s half-buttoned and rolled up to his elbows, as well as ripped jeans held up by braces, but the most unusual part of his outfit (despite how completely impractical it already is) are the dark sunglasses over his eyes, in the middle of the night. His dark brown hair is long and similarly unkempt, all tangled up with leaves and twigs, and it’s not even tied up: he’s just letting it fall into his face. His stubbly beard and the plastic bag over his shoulder only complete the homeless look— though Martyn’s in no place to judge; it’s the apocalypse, not a fashion show.

“Uh… hi,” the man says awkwardly. “Mind if I—?”

“Steal my stuff? I think I would mind, actually,” Martyn cuts him off, stuffing the rest of the fish into his mouth and grabbing the other one that had been cooking over the fire, other hand still gripping his hatchet. “Get your own fish.”

The other man holds his hands up placatingly. “I won’t! I’m not gonna rob ya, dude, I was just wondering if I could sit by your fire a bit? I’ve brought my own, uh… meat.” He pats the bag at his side.

“That’s what he said,” Martyn mutters as the unkempt man says the same thing out loud. There’s a beat of silence as the two stare at each other with wide eyes, before Martyn cracks and erupts into giggles.

The man grins. “I’m gonna take that as a yes,” he says, moving to sit across from Martyn, who doesn’t try to stop him. “The name’s Ren, by the way.”

“Martyn,” Martyn replies, eyeing the bag as Ren reaches in and pulls out a huge hunk of something wet and red. “What, uh… what kind of meat you got there?”

Ren tears off a chunk and stabs a stick into it, resting his arm on his leg as he holds it over the fire, avoiding eye contact. “Just… some animal I hunted. Not patient enough for fishing, y’know?”

Martyn opens his mouth to question further, then snaps it shut again. He’s seen the “animals” that wander the city nowadays, and while they’re not the kind of thing he could ever see himself eating (just the thought of it makes him nauseous)… well, it’s the apocalypse isn’t it? You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do to survive. And if he doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t push.

“Fair enough,” he says in answer. The conversation goes silent as the two each get on with their own meals, Martyn trying to stretch out his last little finger-sized fish for as long as possible, which is not very long. He forces himself to look away from the mystery meat, which is beginning to smell delicious.

“So, how long have you been travelling alone?” Ren asks finally.

“A bit of a personal question,” Martyn says. “I dunno, I guess. I’ve been part of a few groups here and there, but they’ve never really stuck. They all kind of fell apart, or… died. Or I just got bored of them and left. I’ve been on my own for a month or two by now.”

Ren looks a mixture of distressed and amused. “Should I be worried that at least one of your groups has died before?”

“Should I be worried about how vague you’re being about your meat?”

Ren opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, changes his mind and closes it, then settles on, “Touché.”

He pulls his stick back from the fire, though Martyn is sure the steak isn’t cooked through yet, and blows on it for a few seconds, before getting impatient and ripping it off with his hands. It must be burning hot, but Ren ignores that and tears into it like a starving lion, blood vessels popping and spewing their contents all over him. The steak is gone in seconds.

Martyn just gapes at this disgusting spectacle, speechless. “Um.”

Ren’s head snaps up from where he was licking the blood off his fingers, reminding Martyn of a wolf interrupted mid-meal. Then his face turns pink and he’s a human again, hurriedly wiping bloody hands on his shirt. “Um!”

Martyn forces himself to look away, concentrating on picking as much meat as he can from the bones of the fish. “Hey man, I don’t judge. I get being a little enthusiastic if you haven’t eaten in a while, which I assume is the case since you apparently can’t make your own fire.”

Ren splutters, but the tension eases from his body when he sees that Martyn isn’t disgusted. “You don’t know that! Maybe I just wanted company.”

“Mhm,” Martyn hums, not convinced. “What happened to your group, then?”

Ren rips off another fistful of meat and sticks it over the fire before answering. “Never had one. I’m a bit of a… lone wolf.” He smirks as if at some private joke.

“You’re telling me you survived alone this long without knowing how to build a fire?!”

“Honestly, raw meat isn’t as bad as you’d think.”

Martyn grimaces. “I’ll take your word for it.” He sets the fish bones on the ground, having picked them clean. Ren follows the movement with his eyes.

“Do you, uh, want a bite?” He asks. “I’ve got plenty to spare.”

To his surprise, Martyn actually considers it. It’s been a while since he’s had a proper meal, and, though he’s loathe to admit it, that meat looks good. But he can’t; he’s not that desperate yet.

“No thanks, I’m good. Not hungry.” He manages, then after another awkward pause, turns and pulls a blanket out of his bag. “‘Night, Ren.”

“Wait, you’re just gonna… turn around and go to sleep? In the presence of a stranger?” Ren asks.

Martyn turns back to face him, confused. He sees that the other man’s expression is baffled, and slightly hopeful. “I mean, yeah? I kind of assumed you’d be staying for a bit, unless you really did just come here to cook food.”

His face lights up like a puppy that’s been handed a bone. “Sure! Alright! I don’t mind sticking around for a bit!”

Somewhat bemused, Martyn can’t help but smirk. “How on Earth did you survive this long on your own?”

Ren smiles back. “I have no idea, dude.”

***

Ren would call himself an extrovert.

If you’d asked him a year ago, he would’ve said that was a good thing: he had plenty of friends, and his job was all the more enjoyable when he got to chat with customers. It was fun! His life was good.

Except, these days, it’s more of a curse than a blessing. He wants more than anything to find a group of people and stay with them, to protect them as they protect him, to have a shoulder to lean on and a friend to turn to as the world collapses around them.

But he can’t.

The apocalypse was slow to start. He can’t pinpoint the exact day it began, but if he had to, he’s sure he’d name a much earlier date than most people. Most people would mark the beginning of the apocalypse as the day tree roots started cracking through pavement in the middle of the city, or the day the storms started and didn’t stop, or the day they first saw those wretched not-animals on the news.

Ren marks it as the day he grew a tail.

In hindsight, it wasn’t the first sign: his senses were already stronger than they should’ve been, he was significantly hairier than usual, and he swore his previously brown eyes were starting to look almost yellow. But it was the first thing he couldn’t write off as his imagination; it was as if the universe had gotten sick of him ignoring everything it threw at him and decided to drop all tact and just punch him in the face.

By the time society had officially collapsed, Ren was permanently wearing his hair down to hide his furry ears, and wearing sunglasses to hide his now very clearly yellow eyes, because at this point everyone had heard enough about humans becoming animals to be absolutely terrified if they knew what he was. But even then, it was easy enough to hide his… affliction.

Until it wasn’t.

Until the full moon happened, and he woke up in the ruins of an unfamiliar building, hands and teeth stained with blood. The most disturbing part was that he wasn’t hungry anymore, for the first time since rationing had started; it was like blacking out drunk and waking up with more money than you’d started with.

Since then, he’s gotten better at remembering what he does when in wolf form, and better at switching between forms when he needs to— key word is better, not perfect. There are still relapses, when he gets frightened or angry, and of course full moons, when his control is at its weakest.

Which is why he can’t stay with any group: they’d find out, and they’d be terrified and run away, or just kill him to his face. It’s not worth it, he tells himself time and time again.

And it was easy enough to stay mostly away from people for the first few months, only seeing them in passing, maybe staying for a day and disappearing when they slept. But after a while, people became more and more scarce. Now Ren can go whole weeks without seeing anyone, and when he does they’re more hostile than before.

Last night was a full moon, and he’d spent the whole night and most of the following day as a wolf, not having any reason to bother turning back. The sun set, and he reluctantly switched back to slice up his most recent kill to save for later, when he caught a scent on the wind. He hesitated only a moment, before curiosity got the better of him and he followed his nose down what used to be a street, to what was now a dense wood, to a clearing lit by firelight.

The air was filled with the smell of cooking food, and it made Ren’s mouth water. He hadn’t cooked food since before he’d left home. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed it until he found himself glued to the edge of that clearing, staring hungrily at that fire and the man on the other side of it.

He wore a faded lime green hoodie, rolled up jeans and black trainers, and his chin-length blonde hair was held back by a black bandana. Besides him was sat a white rucksack, open but turned away to hide its contents.

And Ren had meant to leave, he swears, but then Martyn spotted him and spoke to him, and… he wasn’t afraid. He was wary, sure, but he let Ren sit across from him, and he laughed along with his stupid jokes, and he didn’t press him about where he’d gotten his meat (and how human they’d been), and Ren wouldn’t call himself clingy, but… in all honesty, he’d almost teared up when Martyn asked him to stay.

He’s a little attention starved, okay? It’s lonely in the apocalypse.

And not to mention dangerous! It would be irresponsible of him to leave Martyn to wander the city on his own. Strength in numbers, and all that. He’s just keeping him safe, Ren thinks, watching Martyn’s sleeping form as he tears into his second steak.

He firmly refuses to think about the future as he curls up by the fire, clinging to this moment like a lifeline: the smell of good food, and the warmth of the fire and the company follow him into sleep.

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aita-blorbos · 6 months

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would i be the asshole if i betrayed the wife of the person i was meant to spy on?

first, i'd like to get this out of the way: you don't know me. you don't know who i'm talking about. if you see any similarities to real life events, no, you don't. you have no idea who any of us are.

are we clear? good. now:

a week ago, my boss A asked me to help him gather intel on a newcomer to our city. i'd never heard the man's name before, but A insisted he was a threat to our organization. he told me to get close to him and find out what he was doing so far away from russia. and i'm loyal, of course i am, but he had this strange light in his eyes when he was talking about this man, "G," like this request was something personal

but it's not my job to dig into the boss's private affairs, so i infiltrated a dinner party. that part was easy. it was much harder getting close to the man A wanted, because turns out he's a depressed fuck who spent the whole time sitting in a corner and brooding. i tried my best moves on him and his only response was telling me to go try the anchovies and leave him alone.

his wife K, on the other hand, was the life of the party. she was the platonic ideal of The Woman, the kind of person i'd never be, and she was so upbeat and talkative that i figured, hey, she'd be a much easier target than her husband! i could definitely worm out some intel from there

well. that was a mistake.

i don't know how i've gotten here but. she's asking me to run away with her. away from the life i've always known, away from A and her husband and everyone else. i shouldn't even be considering it - it's fucking impossible, isn't it? what have we got other than a motorboat and some apples and her gun?

-- yeah, she carries a gun. you can probably understand the kind of person she is, hiding a pistol in the same purse she was using to store her champagne glasses and the tissue she used to wipe the juice of the pomegranate she gave me off of my face.

god, i think i'm in love with her.

i don't know where this letter is going. i don't know what's compelling me to write this. but i need to know: would i be the asshole if i turned her in to my boss now? should i run? do i even know her, does she even know me? i've never felt this way before and it terrifies me

maybe i should just shoot her. everything would be so much easier that way.

EDIT: it's all over

the trouble is, we thought we had time

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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duckprintspress · 2 months

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Round Table Discussion: Grammar Pet Peeves

Today, March 4th, is National Grammar Day! Last year, we celebrated with six of our favorite grammar quirks. This year, we’re going to the other end of the spectrum: we had a conversation with our editors and blog contributors about grammar things we hate. They may be technically correct, but that doesn’t mean they don’t make us crazy. Eighteen people, many anonymous, contributed to this discussion.

Dangling Modifiers

boneturtle: Dangling modifiers, hands down. Even when I can decipher what the writer meant based on context, it viscerally hurts me every time. When I am editing I have to stand up and take a lap around my apartment when I hit a dangling modifier. Remind myself that I am here to help. Learn more about dangling modifiers.

Commas

anonymous: Commas are not difficult! Commas end phrases. Full stop. That’s all they do. Is a phrase necessary to the grammatical coherence of the sentence? if the answer is yes, no commas because that phrase hasn’t ended. If the answer is no, commas! comma hug that bish if it’s the middle of a sentence. The difference between grammatical and informational is whether or not the sentence makes sense without the phrase.

Examples:

The man who ordered the six double anchovy pizzas claims to have a dolphin in his pool.

You need “who ordered the six double anchovy pizzas” because you need to identify which man you’re talking about. The world is full of many men.

The ancient Buick, which Madeleine purchased via Craigslist, belched black smoke whenever she pressed the accelerator.

We don’t need to know how Madeleine purchased the car for the sentence to make sense. You don’t even meed “Madeleine” for the grammar to make sense. Therefore, hug that phrase!

(a comma on each side of the phrase) or give it a dramatic send off with a comma and an end punctuation. (i could go into conjunctions, too, but those are a little more complex, and if you were taught them properly, i understand not getting the comma use 😂 )

Prepositions at the End of Sentences

Tris Lawrence: There was a dictionary (Merriam-Webster? Oxford? idek) that posted recently on social media about how the rule about not ending a sentence with a preposition came from English scholars trying to make English line up with Latin, and that it’s totally okay to do it… and I’m just wanting to point to it to yell THIS because uhhh trying to rework sentences to not end in a preposition often creates clunky awkward things (my opinion, I recognize this).

D. V. Morse: Ending sentences/clauses with a preposition. Well, not doing that is supposed to be the rule, but depending on the sentence, it can be a convoluted mess to try and avoid it. Winston Churchill famously told someone off after they “caught” him breaking that rule, saying, “This is the type of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put.” (Yes, I had to look that up.)

Pronoun Confusion

anonymous: I hate playing the pronoun game when reading. I hate it in life when someone comes up to me and tells me a story involving 2 people of the same pronouns and stops using names halfway through, and I hate it while reading too. Nothing makes me fall out of scene more if I don’t know who just did/said what. Use names. That’s why we have them.

Nina Waters: epithets. If I know the characters name…why? Also, when people use “you” in third person writing. There are times I’ll allow it as an editor/times when I do think it’s at least acceptable but not gonna lie, I absolutely hate it.

anonymous: My pet peeve … I read hundreds of essays in a given month for work, plus a whole lot of fanfic for fun. A rising issue that I have noticed in both places is incomplete sentences (lacking subjects, typically). I think it’s because people rely on Google’s grammar checker to tell them if something is wrong and…Google doesn’t check for that apparently. I’m increasingly convinced that my high schoolers simply weren’t taught sentence structure, because when I ask them to fix it they almost universally say some variant of “I don’t understand what you’re asking me to do.” Therefore, it might be punching down a little to complain about it. I’m not sure. It does drive me nuts though. Lol

“Would Of”

Neo Scarlett: Not quite sure if that falls under grammar, but I hate hate hate when people use “should of” instead of should’ve. Or “would of.” It just makes my toe nails curl up because it may sound right, but it looks wrong and is wrong.

Semi-Colons

Shea Sullivan: I saw a list punctuated by semicolons recently and that made me froth at the mouth a bit.

anonymous: I think any editor who’s worked with me knows that I have a pet peeve about using colons or semi-colons in dialogue. Or really, any punctuation mark that I don’t think people can actually pronounce. Semicolons can live anywhere that I don’t have to imagine a character actually pronouncing them.

English isn’t Dumb!

theirprofoundbond: As a former linguistics student, it bugs me a lot when people say that English is a dumb or stupid language because it has borrowed from so many languages. What people mean when they say this is, “English can be really difficult (even for native speakers).” But I wish people would say that, instead of “it’s dumb/stupid.” Languages are living things. Like other living things, they adapt and evolve. English is basically a beautiful, delightful platypus. Let it be a platypus.

Dei Walker: I remember seeing somewhere that English has four types of rules (I’m trying to find the citation today) and everyone conflates them. And I guess my pet peeve is that everyone treats them equally when they’re NOT. There are rules but not all of them are the same – there’s a difference between “adjectives precede nouns” (big truck, not *truck big) and “don’t split infinitives” (which is arbitrary).

And, because we couldn’t resist, here are some of our favorite things, because when we asked for pet peeves…some people still shared things they loved instead of things they hated.

Oxford Comma

Terra P. Waters: I really really love the Oxford comma.

boneturtle: me: [in kindergarten, using oxford comma]

teacher: no, we don’t add a comma between the last two objects in a list.

me: that’s illogical and incorrect.

anonymous: I will forever appreciate my second grade teacher’s explanation of Oxford comma use: Some sentences are harder to understand if you don’t use it, but no sentence will ever be harder to understand because you do use it. Preach, Mrs. D

anonymous: I am definitely Team Oxford Comma. I even have a bumper sticker which says so

Other Favorites

Shea Sullivan: I adore the emdash, to every editor’s chagrin.

Shadaras: zeugmas! I think they’re super cool!

Shea Sullivan and Hermit: I use sentence fragments a lot. Fragments my beloved.

English Grammar vs. Grammar in Other Languages

anonymous: so in English my favourite thing is the parallel Latin and Saxon registers because of how that affects grammar, but in Japanese my favourite grammatical thing is the use of an actual sound at the end of the sentence to denote a question, as opposed to how in English we use intonation? Also how in Japanese the sentence structure requires reasoning first and action second in terms of clauses. So rather than go “let’s go to the cinema because it’s raining and I’m cold,” you’d go “because it’s raining and I’m cold, let’s go to the cinema.” (My least favourite thing is the lack of spaces between words in the written form but that’s purely because I find that level of continuous letters intimidating to translate.)

I also love how Japanglish in the foreign communities in Japan starts to develop its own grammatical structure as a way of situating yourself in this space between the two languages. It’s used as a call-sign of belonging to that specific community, because in order to make some of the jokes and consciously break the rules of English or Japanese grammar and/or choose to obey one or the other, you’re basically displaying your control over both/knowledge of them. Like, the foreign community in Japan is often a disparate group of people with multiple different native languages who are relying on their knowledge of at least one non-native language but often two to signify their status in the group as Also An Outsider and I think that’s really interesting.

Nina Waters: Chinese and Japanese both drop subjects, and Chinese doesn’t have like… a/the… Japanese doesn’t have a future tense… Chinese kinda sorta doesn’t have tenses at all… (these are not pet peeves, btw, I love how learning a language with such different ways of approaching these things reshapes my brain). Chinese also doesn’t really have yes or no.

There’s a joke somewhere on Tumblr about that, though I actually think it’s about using “a” versus “the,” like, someone was giving a Russian speaker a hard time after they said “get in car” and they were like “only you English speakers are dumb enough to feel this is essential why would I be talking about getting into any random car of course I mean our car wtf.”

anonymous: on the subject of other languages, epithets are also something that happen differently in other languages. In French repeating a word (names included, and sometimes even pronouns) is considered bad writing. As in, way more than in English. Going by how grating the English translation of the Witcher books was to me when the French one was fine, I’d say it’s the same with Polish, at least. It’s also very interesting how brains adapt to writing styles in other languages.

What are some of your favorite and least favorite grammar quirks, in English or in the language of your choice?

#national grammar day #duck prints press #writing advice #grammar #writeblr #writing pet peeves #grammar pet peeves

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