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thewritersaddictions · 8 months

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Drabble: Call Of Duty- Love Language

John Price Bravo Six

Prices love language is Words of Affirmation and Quality Time.

Price is constantly writing you little notes out. They're literally stuffed everywhere. In your go-bag (if you work with him) , in your lunch box (If you work outside of military). The amount of long paraghed messages you've recived from him before he's deployed are starting to cause your phone to alert you of it's space issue.

Price has that nice fancy cursive hand-writing so every note that you find with his handwriting on it you keep so it's nice and presentable. Sometimes you'll wake to him gone, but with a note left on your bathroom mirror written in an old expo marker. The notes are just he start of it, Price has a great pair of ears. He'll listen to you talk all day if that because he likes your voices or because he wants to help is here or there.

Price has all the letters you've sent to him during his deployments stuffed away in an old shoebox in the closet. He holds those peices of paper close to his heart when he's away. They ground him. Make him realize the you're a plane flight away waiting for him at home in his bed, probably wearing his clothes. You're also just so fucking genuine in your letters, your emotion seep through the pages and clench around his heart in best of ways.

With how long Price can be away sometimes, the quality time the two of you spend together is hightly important to the two of you. It's important that the two of you snuggle on the couch, spend tocuhing each other. That you tell him all about the things that happened at work while he was away. (Hell you've taken to writing it all down so you remember all that've happened.) "Come sit down love, and tell me about work today." Price would say his hand softly gripped around your wrist.

Price has a few favorite nicknames he likes to call you around the house. Sweets, Baby, and Love. They're all things that come to mind when he thinks of you. If the two of you dancing around your apartment, or when the two of you get hot and heavy between the sheets Price calls you all the same.

John MacTavish Soap

Johns love langauge is Gift Giving and Quality Time.

It starts off with little things. If John is out at the grocery store he normaly comes backwith an extra deserct or your favorite choice of wine. He knows everything down to your favorite candies. (You know the ones that you're never able to find yourself). The gifts get bigger the longer you're together with John. Little bobble heads, or magnets from places he's been while away on deployment, (The fridge looks like the world map).

Things get even bigger and a bit bolder after that, some gifts are jewlery, things that you'd wear to the military ball. Sometimes it's something smiple like a cd that you can get in the states, or a new purse that John will stock away in the back of the closet until christmas and when you ask where he'd been hiding it he won't tell. "I'm not tellin' you my secret hidin' place lass. You'll go snooping the minute I'm gone." John tells you one chirstmas. The best gift by far as been a stuffed animal dressed up in a military outfit with his voice inside so every time you needed to hear his voice he was right there; just one click away.

The two of you work out well. Your love language is all gift giving, hell the amount of supply boxes you've sent for him while he's been on base; or for him and his other team mates. Letters with your whole written out into three-four-five pages worth. John's got a passcode on his phone, because (you tend to send him a few pretty little pictures of yourself waiting for him in his bed.)

Of course John calls you Lass, but he's got special nicknames for you when you greet him at the base to come and take him home. "You're home!" Jumping into his large and strong arms, "Bonnie, I'm here now don't ya worry. I'm all yours now bonnie." He reply hugging you tightly. The brush of your lips, and breathe that you manage to be able to take from just getting a quick kiss from him on the tarmack. Sweets is what he calls you when he's down between your thigh living on cloud nine.

Simon Riley Ghost

Simons love language is Acts Of Service, and Quality Time.

I'm not sure if it's how Simon grew up, or the fact that's always away but Simon is literally always asking you if you need help getting something from a higher up shelf (The man is 6'3 come on now). He'll even do the more domestic things with you. Dinner he helps with and then he'll do the dishes while you go out into the living room. You pull out a puzzle, he'll sit right next to you or on the couh behind you with your between his legs, and help you.

If you're sick, and he's home you've got your own personal stay-at-home nurse. Breakfast in bed with all the right medicine, and vitiamins. If your sick, and Si isn't there oh shit, you've got food doordashes to the front door every single night, and it's not unhealthy food. You're on your period, he takes care of you. A large hand that looms on the hot skin on your lower stomach to cool the cramps away. He'll sit with you on the couch and watch all the stupidest, cringest of romcoms to sedate your need to cry.

In the same step though Simon forgets to take care of himself most of the time. So worried about you and how good you're doing that he forgets that he also has to think about himself from time to time. That's where you come in, as Simons other half you fix that real quick. Dinner is always ready for him, you'll run a hot soothing bath for him when you know he's coming back from deployment. All of his laundry is done before he can even think about dragging the stinky duffel to the wash room. "Thank you, honey." Simon would grumble as he walked into the living his hair a mess. You'd nod and kiss his cheek gently.

Simon does have a few exclusive nicknames he uses for you. Honey, Angel, and Love. Yet that one you hear the most is Angel because, for him, you're his angel. You're the thing that keeps him rooted in reality. You could be easily hurt by that world he works in, yet you are the only person he thinks of while away on deployment. You are the reason he comes home.

Köing

Köings love language is Physcial Touch, and Quality Time.

Köing surely makes up for the height difference. He's always got a hand on you. Be it your back as he guides you around or in your hand. He's always got to be touching you. Not only does it ground him, but he likes to think that he’s keeping you safe.

He knows nobody is going to mess with the guy that’s 6’10. You like to think you’ve your own guard dog, so it works out nicely. Köing isn't afraid of PDAs; he thrives on it. He loves a simple hand-holding or a kiss to your cheek, forehead, or lips in a public setting. He loves it all. He loves how soft your skin is against his rough, callused hands. Or how plump and soothing your lips are against his own.

In the same, Köing loves to just spend time with you snuggled up under a blanket, watching a movie. Köing loves to cuddle you in his arms during a scary movie, keeping you safe from the horrors displayed on the screen. Köing does use his height against you sometimes. He picks you up, practically spinning you around whenever he returns from deployment. You're just standing there waiting for him and his team to return when you're grabbed tightly and turned around in the air. You gather a bit of attention as you scream and cry with excitement that Köing has arrived back.

Köing has a few speicla nicknames for you. He loves to call you Buttercup, Princess, and my love. "Come on, buttercup, let's go laid down." He'd whisper in your ear as he leaned over the back of the couch to get you to bed with him, "But my TV show just started." You'd whine, "We can watch it in bed together, my love." Köing would argue with you.

Completed on: 10/21/23

Posted on: 10/21/23

COD-

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nyxomniax · 5 months

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jason todd headcanons

⊱ ── {.⋅ general sfw headcanons ⋅.} ── ⊰ these headcanons are more appropriate for an AU or softer overall interpretation, ala wayne family adventures or similar. they are out of place for storylines like new 52 or rebirth. this is a repost from my old account, @andaworldoftroubles, since i'm migrating accounts and i want to consolidate my stuff.

before his death, jason needed glasses to read. afterwards, he doesn’t, but wears them out of habit anyway, and because he thinks it’s a nice fashion choice.

a lot of people assume his handwriting is like chicken scratch, but he actually has extremely neat and pretty handwriting. he doesn’t write in cursive, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to - he actually is very good at amateur calligraphy.

his favourite thing to do before bed is read. it is his go-to method of relaxing. he has a very fancy reading light he rigged together himself by his bedside table; it is long and flexible and can basically swivel in any direction so he can read while sitting up, laying down, on his side, whatever it takes to get comfortable.

despite his rough and tough bravado, jason is quite pensive and gentle when he is alone. he loves animals and nature, and one of his hobbies is gardening. when he stays at the wayne manor, he is always sure to set up the bird feeders and tend to the gardens. he does this in the dead of night, though, because he loathes it when people watch or ask him about it.

speaking of animals, jason loves them and they love him. he’s a natural magnet to dogs, cats, birds, all sort of animals, wild or pets. even selina’s most bratty, spoiled cat who hates being touched or looked at becomes a purring lap cat when he’s around.

he doesn’t like to talk about his hobbies, which is why he does everything alone. he doesn’t want the small talk, doesn’t want to constantly go through the pattern of surprise, confusion, then pestering questions and sometimes (well meaning, but still annoying) condescension that comes with it (“who knew you had such a sensitive side?” “i knew the tough attitude was just a mask” “who are you and what have you done to jason?”)

the only hobbies he really does around other people is training or tending to his bike - because they are also necessities, so no one asks stupid questions or makes aggravating comments

in fact, tending to his bike is the only hobby he’s really happy to partake in with others. its a passion he shares with dick and duke in particular since they’re the only ones who actively ride their bikes, and it has become one of his favourite ways to bond with them. bruce sometimes joins in, but not very often anymore.

jason is a very good cook, and he’s the only one alfred allows in the kitchen, everyone knows this. he mostly only ever cooks for himself - occasionally he will make breakfast for both him and alfred - but once in a blue moon, if he’s in a particularly good mood, he might make breakfast for the whole family. everyone knows not to make a big deal out of it though, because jason hates the attention - the first time it happened, they all made such a fuss he got frustrated with the praise and finished his breakfast in his room. he didn’t cook for them again for almost another year.

in a similar vain - he struggles with praise. immensely. it feels awkward and unnatural, no matter how genuine it is. everyone in the family knows this, so they all have adapted to praise him in their own ways - an approving nod from bruce, a pat on the back from dick, a simple “good job” from barbara. the only exception to the rule is alfred; jason is bashful when he praises him, but he’s the only one jason says “thank you” to when he gives a compliment.

jason is closest in the family to dick, tim, duke, cass, and alfred. aside from cass and alfred, most people would not be blamed if they thought jason actually hated dick, tim, and duke. his relationship consists of dry sarcasm and banter, but that’s just jason’s way. they know how he works and they roll with the punches and throw some back in return.

jason and dick butt heads constantly, but they love each other dearly. their arguments get loud and heated though, and out of all the siblings, they argue the most. jason thinks dick is too soft, dick thinks jason is too rash. but none of the siblings quite understand each other the way jason and dick understand each other.

duke and jason rarely talk or hang out, but they also almost never argue, and duke respects jason as jason, not as red hood or a former robin. jason appreciates that duke treats him like anyone else - he doesn’t sugarcoat things, treat him like he’s fragile, or dismiss him because he’s jason.

most people in particular don’t realise how much jason trusts tim - they originally hated each other and didn’t get along at all. it took a lot of maturity and time for them to reconcile, but they did, and they are closer than ever.

jason isn’t one to ask for help or advice, but when he needs something, the first person he will go to is dick. the second person he will go to is cass.

he goes to dick, because the two of them are the oldest, and the closest, and while they aren’t ones to announce it, they are each other’s best friends. dick understands jason implicitly and knows the best advice that suits his frame of thinking and how he works. and while they argue and banter constantly, dick actually knows jason enough to know to never pick a fight when his brother is willingly coming to him for help.

plus, jason appreciates the quiet relationship he has with cass; it’s comfortable. they can sit together in complete silence, just reading their own separate books. and jason knows that no matter what he says to her, if he asks for her silence - he gets it, and she will never tell another soul his secrets.

jason never goes to bruce for advice or help. their relationship is complicated. they love each other and will do anything for each other, but this is one cut that never seems to scab over, no matter how hard they both try.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd headcanon #batfamily #batfamily headcanons #dc headcanon #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd headcanons #dc comics #nyxwrites #nyxwrites dc #headcanons

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andaworldoftroubles · 1 year

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jason todd headcanons

before his death, jason needed glasses to read. afterwards, he doesn’t, but wears them out of habit anyway and because he thinks it’s a nice fashion choice

his favourite thing to do before bed is to read. it is his go to method of relaxing. he has a very fancy reading light he rigged together himself by his bedside table; it is long and flexible and can basically swivel in any direction so he can read while sitting up, laying down, on his side, whatever it takes to get comfortable

the only hobbies he really does around other people is training or tending to his bike - because they are also necessities, so no one asks stupid questions or makes aggravating comments

duke and jason rarely talk or hang out, but they also almost never argue, and duke respects jason as jason, not as red hood or the former robin. jason appreciates that duke treats him like anyone else - he doesn’t sugarcoat things, treat him like he’s fragile, or dismiss him because he’s jason.

jason isn’t one to ask for help or advice, but when he needs something, the first person he will go to is dick. the second person he will go to is cass.

he goes to cass, because while they don’t spend a lot of time together, cass understands jason in a way that a lot of other people can't. they do not banter or tease, because cass is always honest with jason and can see through his facade. cass knows exactly what jason needs, what jason wants, how jason works. she knows exactly what should and should not be said to him. she knows his triggers inside and out and knows exactly how to read his expressions and body language. she is the first to know if something is wrong. plus, jason appreciates the quiet relationship they have; it’s comfortable. they can sit together in complete silence, just reading their own separate books. and jason knows that no matter what he says to her, if he asks for her silence - he gets it, and she will never tell another soul his secrets.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd headcanon #batfamily #batfamily headcanons #dc headcanon #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd headcanons #dc comics

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tbcanary · 8 months

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Hi! Do you happen to have basic/simple/easy tutorials for editing comic panels to recommend?

i do not actually have one to refer you to, but i’m happy to write some things up! i’m assuming this is just for removing backgrounds and creating icons; if you want a how-to on the way i animate panels, that lives here.

i use photoshop cs6, but the same general principles should work in other editors. also, there are probably easier or faster ways to do the things i do. i like my methods and i’m comfortable with them, but i’d recommend experimenting to find what works best for you.

and... yeah! let's get into it.

step one: finding a panel

i save panels as i’m reading comics. they all live in one PSD file named “panels,” and i make a new one for each run. anything that seems pretty or thematically resonant gets copied and pasted in there. this way, i don’t have to dig through endless comic issues to find a specific image that stuck with me. i usually save the full page just so the edges are clean and everything is included.

let’s go with this page from birds of prey:

step two: cropping

the way i crop the image depends on two things: what i’m hoping to make, and what the image looks like. here, i’m just doing a basic portrait, and helena is taller than she is wide. that makes it easy; let’s crop it so she takes up most of the frame.

(my preferred ratios are 4x6 for smaller panel edits like this; for banners, i usually do 2x1, but if the framing works better as 3x2, I have done that, too. just feel it out. actual pixel sizes depend on the size of the original image.)

step three: removing the background

this part is, I think, the area with the most room for personal preference. we need to erase the background, and there are a LOT of tools to do this. each one varies depending on what the image itself looks like. there’s the magic selection tool, the eraser, or the lasso or magnetic selection tool.

(i don’t use the lasso or magnet because they’re evil, to me, but they work reasonably well when you have a character on a mostly solid background and art with thick, defined lines. i have no real advice other than that.)

here, we can mix and match some things. i’m going to start by using the magic selection tool to grab all the white or solid colors and remove them with the delete key, like so:

surprise! gone.

after that, for the more finicky areas, i am a perfectionist and i go in and erase pixels using the eraser tool at 4-5px width. i start by outlining the character, like so:

from there, you can use the lasso tool to select all of the remaining background and delete it. i usually hide the white background layer at this step, too. (i'm also going to color the smoke and the man in the foreground black and redraw the crossbow string with the paintbrush tool. this ain't about him.)

you should end up with something like this:

step four: cleaning the linework

this part is mostly using the layer style stroke and the tool refine edge.

so, because of how selection tools and erasers work, there are a bunch of hidden pixels throughout the image you can’t really see. this drives me absolutely bonkers. at this point, i combine all the layers of the paint i've done so far -- everything except for the transparent background. select the layer with the character — Helena — and apply the layer style stroke, set to “outside” at 3px.

those little black dots are what we're after. there aren't too many right now, because this was a fairly clean edit; sometimes, it looks scary and messy, but that’s okay. the layer style has just outlined all those invisible pixels. i go through and erase them — especially in tight places like corners. for example, this pesky area between strands of hair:

(before vs. after)

once you’ve erased all of those pixels and cleaned up the image, you can go back into the stroke layer style.

you’ve done a lot of erasing and feathering and cleaning up, so chances are, the line work is not nearly as crisp as it looked in the original panel. that’s fine! shift the settings to “inside” and 1px, like so:

sometimes it’ll need to be 2-3 px, sometimes it’ll need to be center-aligned, and sometimes you might even decide it looks better outside or without the stroke style at all! this is all personal preference. do whatever you like.

once it's where you want it to be, i like to duplicate the layer -- to save the one without the new outline in case anything goes wonky. then right click the copy of the layer and "rasterize style" to get a flat image with new linework.

your workspace should look something like this:

if it happens to feel like the edges are a little harsh — which happens sometimes! especially when using selection instead of eraser — you can select the whole image and use refine edge. this softens it. you don’t need to do much; i usually do 2-3px of feathering, a couple pixels of smoothing, and some contrast, depending on how it looks. see below:

you'll have three layers now. it gets confusing, so try to keep track of which one is your active layer. you can delete old ones, if you want; i generally don't, just in case.

there isn’t a hard and fast rule for this part. do what you think looks good. and if you want to refine the edge before you add the new linework, that can work! do another stroke layer style after the first round! test things out and find out what you like. most of the time, it depends on the image and your preference.

after all that, this is the helena we now have:

step five: creating a new background!

this part is easy. create a new layer, pick a color you like — i tend to pull from the actual background using an eye dropper tool, or if it’s for a multiple-part edit, I use the swatches i’ve decided on for the color scheme of the whole thing — and paint bucket that thing right on there. this is some of the blue that was behind her originally:

i don’t like flat colors, pretty much ever, because they feel harsh to me. so i go back and add artistic touches and mess around with the filters a lot. sometimes i pull text or accents from other panels and follow the same steps as above to incorporate them into the edit; sometimes, i don’t. no rules just vibes.

in this case, i want it to be pretty simple. so i’ll make a new layer, then fill it in with a gradient tool. i usually make a custom gradient; one side is the color of the background and the other side is either black or white, depending on the vibe I want.

i do an orbital gradient most of the time — circles are your friend — and focus the center on something that I want to draw the eye to. here, i’m going to do helena’s face.

then i mess around with the opacity until it looks the way i want it to. like this:

step six: final steps

congrats! you have an edited panel! you’re perfectly fine to post/share/use it at this point, but there are a couple other things i like to do to give it that final polish:

if you want to jazz up your edits, try messing around with outer glow, or drop shadow. both of those layer styles can add some emphasis to your focal point. (i prefer those be kept at a low opacity, when i use them, which isn’t often.)

i'd also recommend messing around with gradient maps if you want to superimpose a larger silhouette over the background. that would take more room than i have left in this already far too long guide, but it does add something to have it in there.

i dislike having text bubbles in my edits unless i specifically put them there, so i do have a process for removing them, much like the smoke or the man in the foreground. again, we are running long already, so i won't get into that here. my recommendation if you don't want to deal with entirely removing a bubble is to just paint over the text inside with white so you have an empty text box or speech bubble instead. it's simpler, quicker, and honestly the more common practice based on what i've seen.

that being said, if you want to know how i paint over them -- or how to do anything i didn't get into here -- feel free to ask. i don't mind writing these up.

i have a guide on how i size my images here, which walks through the exporting process. it’s not strictly necessary, but i like for my edits to remain consistent in size, so i do usually follow it.

and that’s it! you’re now ready to edit comic panels to your heart’s content. happy cropping and so on, and thanks for asking me. <3

#how to #ask.tb #anonymous #i hope this answered your question #and i especially hope it did so in a simple and easy to follow manner. despite how lengthy it got. i tried to stick to basics here.#but yeah! thank you for asking #best of luck!

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rubykgrant · 4 months

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(found some old notes I had for the RVB story-line where they have normal people shenanigans on Earth, so I'm sharing it again~)

-Everybody tries to “retire” again, but this time on Earth so they aren’t just alone with themselves on a moon. Whatever clown organization that calls itself the government has decided to basically just let them live rent-free in some big building in some city (some wacky made-up place that can be in Texas, because that's funny).

-Most of them find new ways to chill, and they don’t really get recognized by civilians since literally nobody has seen their faces before, and they go by first names in public. They all find hobbies to try. At some point, Dr Grey gave Wash the advice to keep a video journal to help him remember various events. Andrews suggest this could help the others record their thoughts for any future interviews, so they join in

-Donut gets a job at an a pet shop/animal rescue center (he eventually brings back two kittens for Wash). He doesn’t really need the money, he just enjoys it and needed to find something to do (sometimes he helps with more serious animal injuries and emergencies for large creatures, because he was a farm kid)

-Donut also becomes BFFs with Kai; they just have lots of fun together, he helps her pick out clothes (since she’s colorblind and he’s color-coordinated), she’s really supportive of his "mean streak", and he’s also a great wing-man when she goes out to flirt (Tucker tries to tag along, but he still needs to... refine his flirting technique. he's trying, he really is!)

-Caboose also wants to get a job, because otherwise he’s just home all day waiting for everybody else to come back. He starts working at a mall... and he constantly gets shuffled around from one place to another (did you ever see that show 6teen? OK, that, but it is all just Caboose). The manager of the mall knows who “Michael” really is, and is trying to be respectful by helping out a space hero... but also, this guy is VERY accident-prone. Eventually, Caboose finds a niche as a costume character who entertains people for special events

-Sarge is trying to find new ways to deal with boredom without declaring war on gravity, so he decides to write a book about his life... this leads him to seek advice on the internet (once Simmons shows him how to use a computer). The result is, Sarge discovers thousands of ways to argue with every single troll online (jokes on them, he’s even more annoying than all of them put together)

-There is an on-going problem of Sarge trying to tell his boys from Red Team that he actually cares about them, but he keeps on backing out from it at the last minute. He really WANTS to be nice, but he’s been gruff and grumpy for so long, and it is hard to change the behavior everybody expects from you (this is actually a WHOLE THEME for a few characters)

-Doc FINALLY decides to try and an ACTUAL degree in medicine (he also makes a few new friends this way, and it becomes important that he’s doing this later. one character at the med school is like 19 and got pushed into this by over-achieving parents, so Doc basically adopts them as a younger sib)

-Lopez gets to make friends with the neighbors they have, and not only does this give him a chance to have a life outside the group of danger-magnets, it also makes everybody kinda miss having him around, so they take more of an interest in him (they even get him a motorcycle)

-Grif and Simmons are roommates again, but Grif is making a legit effort to be less annoying, which Simmons appreciates (Kai keeps nudging her bro to try and have another talk with the dude he’s been interested in for more than a decade, but any attempt Grif makes to get Simmons to understand how he feels goes unnoticed. Grif finally gives up and insists that he’s more comfortable with their relationship being the way it always has been... but his sister still catches him YEARNING)

-Tucker kinda feels lonely... everybody else is figuring out ways to enjoy their time/keep busy, but he hasn’t found his groove (he can't fall back into old habits because the Character Growth definitely happened, as much as it bothers him). He tries to go and contact some of kids he thought he had on Chorus... which is when he discovers there was a mistake. Turns out a lot of files got accidentally deleted, and thanks to a glitch, Tucker's info got auto-filled in as the father in ALL the DNA tests. He in fact does not have any biological kids on Chorus, and he’s a little disappointed by this (he's not even mad about paying child support) He tries to find the one kid he KNOWS is his, because he misses Junior so MUCH, but isn’t able to get in touch...

-Carolina is BORED. She doesn’t know what the heck to do with herself. When the others finally notice she seems kinda down, they start inviting her out to do stuff. At first she’s not even sure how to just have “fun”, but she finally gives in. Eventually, they take her to a karaoke bar, sing a very bad group-performance of “Sweet Caroline” to her, and she about dies laughing. This becomes a favorite thing for her, so they all go back and sing something there maybe once or twice a week (this also becomes a fun activity for her and Tucker, who she didn’t think she’d really bond with, but he’s chilled-out on being a perv, they’ve both been sort of lost... and they both share Church stories with each other)

#red vs blue #rvb

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enderwoah · 1 year

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quackity stares at the communicator in his hands, eyes burning with tears from the freezing not-desert wind blowing cigarette smoke directly into his eyes, picking up sand that stings his skin with it. the glowing green bar reflects on his pale face as he desperately tries to discern any difference in length. the vote was 50/50. how was the vote 50/50? he thought everyone knew his story—he didn't even know joe hills had a story. he didn't even know who joe hills was.

he feels a short tap on his shoulder and the wind abruptly stops. he whirls around to meet the gaze of his opponent, eyes shaded by obnoxious green glasses that quackity thinks he would genuinely rather die than willingly put on his face. his expression curls into a sneer. "you here to rub it in, huh? don't you think this is humiliating enough?"

his attention is very suddenly drawn to the ring of eyes floating around joe's head, all different colours of the rainbow before they all switch to a medium yellow, matching joe's actual eyes as a look of confusion flits upon his face. joe holds out his hand with a bemused chuckle. "no? i wanted to congratulate you on a race well run. you sure put up a hell of a fight!"

quackity stares at him. he doesn't move to receive the handshake. "uh-huh."

joe blinks, and all the eyes blink in tandem and reopen to an even brighter yellow. "is somethin'...wrong?"

quackity snorts humourlessly. "are you kidding me? did you really just ask that?"

half of the eyes turn red, creating an alternating red-yellow-red-yellow-red-yellow pattern that picks up speed in spinning around joe's head, making him feel dizzy. joe holds up both of his hands as if to ask, 'what did i do?' quackity could punch him. "i'm—i'm sorry? i don't—"

"you seriously expect me to believe that you just came over to congratulate me on losing?" quackity snaps, taking a step back as something primal within his chest curls in fear of the swirling colours around the man's head. he feels like the red and yellow are the bright markings that warn another animal that what they are hunting is poison and dangerous. his wings involuntarily fluff up, but he holds his position where he is. "i'm not a moron, hills. if you came to make fun, get it over with so we can both move on."

the eyes all suddenly stop and flash red—something in him screams and begs to run away, but he's stubborn and angry and he refuses to run away from anything ever again, so he roots his feet into the sand and doesn't move. he can't stop himself from flinching away, though, and that's when joe seems to notice the lightshow around his head. he makes a startled noise and waves them away, the eyes dodging around his hand and settling back into place like they're magnetically attracted to a halo around joe's head before settling back into their respective colours. quackity notices that his eyes, behind the glasses, are a deep blue.

"sorry about that," he says with a laugh. "they have a mind of their own. or, i guess, a mind of my mind." he shrugs half-heartedly, and the eyes seem to shrug along with him. quackity has the strangled urge to laugh. "but i promise i didnt come to rub it in or make you feel bad, friend. genuinely. i know my watchers are rather...eccentric. and enthusiastic. and i love them to absolute death for it, but they can be a little overpowering sometimes." he beams, and the eyes flash like shutters to a bright, lime green that matches his hair before settling back in their normal colours. "i'm proud to have fought you and won, but you did very well nonetheless."

quackity stares at him. he thought he had gotten good at reading faces after spending so much time around people that betrayed him, but he must be just as shitty as ever because he can't detect an ounce of maliciousness in the man's face. he can feel the maliciousness radiating off of joe in his bones, some ancient, sickening power that makes him want to shake and scream and dig himself into the sand and not come out until the sun has exploded or joe has died (which very well may happen in the same instance), but it's smothered by something else—a gaudy cheerfulness, the same kind that wears itself in joe's expression, like painting over a doomsday timer with sunshine and fluffy clouds.

he might throw up. "are you...serious?"

there it is again—that deep, melancholy blue, so vast and dark that quackity feels like he could lean forward and fall into. "well, of course i am, quackity. why wouldn't i be?"

quackity isn't one to overshare, but there's something so sad etched upon joes face, something that's dug into every pore and every line, that makes quackity feel like the man already knows the answer without having said a word. he digs the toe of his show into the sand, one hand firmly in his pocket and the other still clutching the comm to his side. "i don't know, i just...i'm not used to...this. losing kindly. i feel as if as soon as this is all over and we all get to go home, something horrible is going to happen because i lost."

joe's eyes are yellow again. "something horrible? quackity, you do realise that this is a tumblr sexyman poll, right—?"

"it doesn't matter what the poll is—!" quackity hisses quickly, the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. fuck this. fuck all of this. he turns on his heel and starts to walk away. "i—nevermind. forget i said anything."

"hey, hold on!"

joe lays a hand on his shoulder (and if quackity's heart doesn't lurch, if his brain doesn't collapse in on itself from the pure, unadultured fear it experiences in that singular moment before disappearing in its entirety) and quackity stops. "i'm sorry. that was insensitive of me."

quackity's face only burns further. "whatever."

"i'm serious," joe insists, stepping into quackity's line of sight. "and i'm sorry that whatever experiences you may have had made you feel like losing a silly game we've all come together to play would result in something...happening to you. at the very least, i'm not going to be the one to hurt you, if anything."

quackity looks joe up and down. something intrinsic in him knows that he isn't lying, because it knows joe and feels all of him in his entirety and the vastness of his presence hurts, but he still stays silent, clenching his fists and refusing to meet joe's many eyes. he's on guard, and he doesn't know whether it's because he knows from his experience how this always goes (they act nice, they tell you they love you, and maybe they do love you for a little while, but you still lost to them and you're still beneth them so they hurt you) or whether it's from the fact that it's joe, and he didn't know before and knows now—it probably isn't possible to stand so close to joe hills and not be on guard.

"and in any case, at least it was this poll that you lost," joe continues. "i mean, is the winner of this really a winner? do most people even know what they're fighting for, here?"

quackity frowns, instinctively looking up at joe. his normal eyes are now a distinct orange, a mirthful smile making his expressions scrunch together. "it's a poll for the title of being a sexy man, isn't it?"

"the sexyman," joe corrects. "but do you really know what a tumblr sexyman is?"

quackity's frown only deepens as he tilts his head to the side, thinks, then slowly says, "...i guess i just assumed based on the name? why would a 'tumblr sexyman' be any different from a regular 'sexy man?'"

joe's eyes—the ones around his head and the ones actually on his face—all flash a bright orange as he pulls out his own communicator, muttering a quick, "wait one second," before beginning to type into the device faster than quackity's eyes can follow.

joe turns the communicator around to him and quackity is presented with the criteria for being a 'tumblr sexyman.'

it only takes a few moments for him to start laughing.

"you—'needs to have a certain air of patheticness about them?' 'cannot be conventionally attractive unless another criteria is fully filled out'—holy hell, i can't believe wilbur got so far in this! he's gonna be so mad when he finds out, oh my gods—"

"you did get further than him, quackity," joe reminds in jest. quackity's cheeks go red again.

"shut the hell up, he just went against you earlier than i did. you look like you fit all this garbage perfectly. you'd better win, or i'll kill you."

joe smiles, mildly confused as to whether it was an insult or a compliment but accepting it all the same. the eyes around his head alternate between yellow and green as he slowly says, "thank...you...? i'll...try my best?"

quackity huffs, a smile still lingering on his face as he hands the comm back to joe. "you'd better. i refuse to lose against you for you to kick it in the next round."

joe suddenly sags forward, his eyes drastically switching colour to alternate between orange and blue. "but i'm going up against cleo, she'll—and excuse my language—she'll kick my ass."

"is she cool?"

joe nods, dejected. "the coolest."

quackity claps a hand onto joe's upper arm, ignoring how his skin screams upon making willing contact with him. it. whatever they might be. "then you have a pretty good chance."

joe's eyes flicker a few times, from blue to yellow to blue to pink to green again, right as he breaks into an excited smile. "you know what—that's a great point, friend! she might just be too cool to be a sexyman—that's genius!"

quackity smiles, tired but genuine, before kicking the sand again and turning away. "no problem, hills. good luck next round—not that you'll need it, if you were able to beat wilbur and i."

all he hears is a snicker and a faint goodbye, and then a gust of wind almost knocks him off his feet and blows up the sand around him.

when quackity turns around, joe hills is gone.

the only thing left behind is one singular green eye. it winks, blinks, and vanishes.

#this is so long i am so sorry #quackity #joe hills #mcyt #mcytblr #mcytblr sexyman poll #tumblr being tumblr #JOEHILLSSWEEP

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ria-writes-stories · 1 month

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The right decision at the wrong time

Ship: Smokey Bat Genre: glass action cotton Description: Nobody talks what happens off screen, so why shall we not shine some light upon it? Note: This follows that headcannon of mine that Sam has an over-performent system. Meaning that his mind races into finding out anything and everything, seeing seeing possibilities of a situation and ways of solving a problem. It is heavily overwhelming and determines him to go into over drive, therefore the magnets are the medicine that slows down his mind to a somewhat normal level and a relaxed state. ---------------------------

(No one's pov)

98 camp. What a lovely place to be at… in this freezing overwhelming weather that doesn't bother the drones. You'd think that snow could make it's way into a drones system and then coming with the heat of the drone's mechanism it would melt, turn into water and determine a short-circuit.

Everyone was simply enjoying their time when havoc sparked and everyone was left running.

Sam did his best to hide but this demon targeted him and before he knew it he was tackled down.

He was mortified. Uzi, the outcast of the school, a goth hot topic menace to society now taking the form of a fallen angel before him, threatening to consume his entire being in just one big bite.

Sam didn't understand what was happening, why, how, just about now he would wish he was off the magnet's effects but whenever he was he would curse himself for it. He was holding his hands bent and in front of him, blocking her from getting to his face or neck as her hands clawed at him and tried to budge them open. For some reason in this lost state and foggy mind she seemed to forget that she could easily end him in many other ways.

She was hesitant… Oil was spilling from her mouth as she lashed out like an animal a wide smile on her face and yet Sam could hear soft silent sobs.

One issue was that Sam was was just getting his dose of required medicine when it was interrupted by this very girl. His mind began to work, the effects of the small dose wearing off faster than he liked it.

Eventually he placed a hand on the ground behind him and pushed himself forward, making Uzi fall off of him before he grabbed her hands tightly. "Uzi." He said weakly as the girl budged in his grip hissing and squirming as her tail attempted to bite his sides.

"UZI!" He said loudly, almost screaming, getting the girl to stop for just one moment, her visor glitches back to her eyes. She looked at him with a horrified look.

His face was ached. The scratches made by her claws, were bleeding out his oil, slowly running down his forearms and flowing smoothly onto her hands as well soaking them in his source of life.

Uzi's face slowly took a more sadden look. Just moments ago she had devoured three of her classmates, and she was about to go for the fourth one until she was snapped back to reality.

She began to sob quietly as she looked at him baffled. She couldn't believe this. Everything felt like a horrible nightmare, just a nightmare, and yet she could not deny the fact that it was reality.

What had she done? In what monster had she become?

Sam's face softened as he realized what the poor girl was going through. He loosened his grip and softly pulled her to his chest as he sat down on the ground, holding her and softly rubbing her back. He wasn't good with pain. He was a coward, he always ran away from it desperately, and here he was confronted with a person who needed shelter from it. A girl who needed to take a break, a breather, from everything that was moving by her too fast.

Everything was going slowly for him, reason why he'd sometimes trip or slip, he wasn't able to go with the world's pace. He either had to be back or be painfully ahead.

Uzi breathed shakily as her hands clenched onto his sweater holding onto him as tightly as her hands allowed her, sobbing violently and coughing on the oil that she had so joyfully feasted upon earlier. He could only hold her and rub her back, doing his best to give her a moment of peace.

If he wouldn't consume his medicine, he would be rushing past life. She was doing a full on marathon against her limits. It was painful. She wanted to slow down, she wanted to breath. He knew that feeling. He knew that much. He tried to offer her just that, but he who is not stable is not able to provide with help another.

A moment of silence, a moment, only one, in which both were at the 'normal' pace of the world. A moment in which they got to live in peace.

But mere seconds of pure bliss are often followed by underlying torment who may last less but the one that is ached by heart wrenching pain has no notion of time.

Little by little Sam could feel his system kicking in. The worries, the endless ways that this could end. It was all coming to him in a full harsh blow, leaving him shaking from every inch of his bolts with rigid breathing. His hands stopped caressing her, stopping mid movement, frozen. His entire system was clenching as he could feel his core slowly begin to overheat.

A great tragedy was to follow suit, it was simply how things worked. That is what was happening when a scared frail girl crushed the snow underneath her, holding a magnet in her hand as carefully as she could while walking around looking frantically left and right after one certain boy.

Emily had returned to the camp site, knowing that the pursuer is least likely to return to the initial scene of the 'crime' but that is when she noticed that Sam left his magnet behind. She knew of his condition, and she knew how painful it could be for him. She knew she shouldn't touch the magnet. She knew it could affect her greatly and yet she didn't want to think of any of that for a single moment.

The magnet took a toll on her immediately, making her legs shaky threatening to buckle underneath her weight, making her hand holding the magnet feel heavy and weak, and yet she went through with this silly idiotic plan of hers, what a fool.

She thought that Uzi perhaps has missed Sam, going after Lizzy instead, it would only make sense as Lizzy was an active bully in Uzi's life, and yet all of them were guilty for turning a blind eye. Every single one of them, deserving or not of their fate that was to be decided tonight, they had it coming for a long time. They filled a glass to the brink and now it was spilling and whoever was nearby was doomed to be co-lateral damage weather it was fair or not. They added to this glass each day bit by bit with their ignorance. Yet here was Emily trying to right a wrong by being selfless for once. What a grate grave mistake these drones make. They are selfish when they shouldn't be and selfless in the worst moments possible. Their actions end up being pitiful, futile and useless due to making the wrong calculations if they make any at all that is.

Uzi hissed out in pain the moment she felt the sudden burst of heat, jumping away from him. She was still scared, she saw he was in pain, she knew he needed help, but her system wouldn't allow it. Her mind was crept on by the endless roots of hunger and darkness. For too long she had pushed it all back, now it was the demon's turn to play.

"SAM!" A voice called out carrying great worry for it. Emily was nearby, and she had made the grave mistake to think that exposing yourself by attracting attention towards your exact location via yelling when there's a loose hungry beast around.

Uzi heard that scream and so did Sam. While his heart sunk all the while his eyes widened in shock, now thinking about this girl's poor fate, she… She began to laugh like a maniac again as she jumped and flew out as Sam helplessly held a hand out. The last thing he saw was two girls, one with a tormented laugh of pain and the other with pure terror in her eyes as the consequences of her actions came to catch up to her. His classmates, his life, the life of one more, it was all going too fast, it was all too difficult. And all of it was purely his fault.

His vision began to glitch as Emily dropped the magnet on the ground while Uzi grabbed Emily by the nape of her neck and dragged her away as the girl was forbidden from screaming thanks to Uzi restraining her voice box with her bite.

'Mechanic, what would happen if he stopped taking the magnets?' 'Well, his system would no longer be used to the pain, loosing it's resistance to it.'

A blood curling scream filled the forest as the fate of yet another pitiful boy was left unknown.

They had all wrote down their fate, the greatest mistake that they have done being that they were unable to make the simple decisions that would have ultimately set them down a path that would have avoided all this oil shed if only they had been a bit more careful.

They will assume that she was his death, and she was, because he selflessly sought out to do one good deed in his life. He decided to offer a moment of comfort to a bleeding heart, at the cost of everything in his system to come down crashing into nothingness.

Not all is lost for the few that are still present, but with what does it warm the one that has lost all that it could have had? Love, compassion, kindness, if only all of these had been given at the right time maybe he wouldn't have had to be forced to see two lives be ruined for eternity right before his very eyes. If only he had been on a lesser dose, if only he built immunity to the pain and look for ways to upgrade his system instead of deteriorating it. If only he sought a way to fight the challenges thrown at him by life instead of pushing them deem down, then perhaps, he would have lived. Perhaps he could have done a change when it was needed. Perhaps he could have done something a bit more meaningful. But time could not be turn. What could have been can only be dreamed of and thought of in the land of ignorance and regreat. Sorrow, grief and pain, a plain of existence not many walked on with a brave face on, and those that were to avoid it with ignorance were doomed to fall prey to it when they least expected it.

A shriek of death here, a familiar face another place, the perfect set trap for another helpless victim, and the predator didn't even need to set it in place, it all came so naturally, perhaps the punishment of fate to all that were involved. None were to leave unharmed, none were to leave unchanged, none were to forget this day without risking a harder fight with fate later on in what remained of their life.

The balance of all that surrounds us is a cruel and beautiful display of affection to everything that moves and breaths, not all can find beauty in it. Once he had almost reached it. Once long ago on the first and last day that he looked at the goth hot topic loving girl. Once when he took a moment to analyse her instead of anything else around him when he had forgotten his magnet at home. It was so simple, it was such a useful solution and resort of means when he had to think fast or suffer for his negligence.

She was nice to think of, she was simple to think of, because he didn't know too much, therefore for once his mind was forced to try and confirm present information instead of seeking answers for questions that needn't be asked to begin with. He felt happy, he could feel a smile creep on his face. For that day alone he had been there in one way or another.

Uzi didn't know what to think of it. She tried to be mad, she tried to be defensive, yet the simple act of having someone's attention hook up on her in the true meaning of the word for once felt… more pleasant than she had anticipated. To be asked questions on things that you think everyone already knows about you for once felt…genuine and sweet. "So, you like goth dudette?" "Yeah? So? Bite me!" "That's nice dudette, and your phrase, did you come up with it?" "So what if I did?" "Cool!" Despite her trying to be all on the defensive his lazy calm tired smiled had an effect on her that she did not know was possible, and when he was met with a negative answer.. "That's cool." He would be so casual and calm about it, leaving her with no words more.

Uzi went home and screamed in her pillow about how stupid it all was and how she shouldn't feel like she was.

Sam went home and immediately got his hand on his magnet forgetting about it all in an instant.

One was left wondering how it will all unfold with time while the other already left it to the past.

But we know what happened.

The end

#murder drones smokeybat #murder drones uzi #murder drones fanfiction #murder drones sam #uzi doorman #md uzi doorman

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zodiactalks · 2 months

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What Are The NICEST Zodiac Signs?

Do you know those people who will be there whenever you call them, night and day? The ones that neglect their own responsibilities so they can help their friends? The ones who love animals and will stay still for hours just so they don’t wake the cat that fell asleep on them? They are the ones we’re talking about today.

Whether they’re the friendliest of the bunch and love socializing or they’re just shy but vicious when it comes to their friends, these signs will always win the first three places on a kindness contest, and there’s nothing we can do but thank them for always being the ones we can rely on. They’re inspiring, and they make everyone feel welcome and at peace, which is what we should all strive towards.

#1. Libra

We all know Libras are the social butterflies of the zodiac. They hate conflict, and they will do anything to avoid it, especially when they’re between friends. They are very friendly and love meeting new people, so they will never be rude to a stranger, and always welcome new faces into their group.

They have certain diplomacy about them that makes conversations with them easy and pleasant, and they’re always the ones to defuse a fight and try harmonizing the spirits whenever something does not go according to their plans. Their social status is important to them, and they don’t like making enemies. Instead, they prefer networking and making a lot of connections because they know that is the key to a happy and fulfilled life.

Moreover, they are not quick to judge or get angry with people, which makes interactions with them always a delightful experience. Their calm and put together demeanour attracts people like a magnet, and there’s nothing they hate more than rude persons. #2. Cancer

Cancers are one of the most emotional signs of them all, being ruled by the Moon. They feel things very deeply and are highly empathetic. This is why they make amazing listeners that will help you navigate all of your problems with a caring demeanour. This makes people around them feel very loved and cared for. Moreover, they will always put their friends’ needs before their own, which can sometimes make them the target of dishonest people with bad intentions. Possessors of great emotional intelligence, they always know when that’s the case, but they usually don’t care and prefer avoiding conflict at the expense of their own well-being. Their confidence and disregard for their own happiness just so they can keep their friends happy are what makes them one of the nicest signs in existence, and it certainly helps that they are very welcoming and warm to strangers. Cancer will never be rude or too cocky, and they will do anything to ensure everyone is having a good time.

#3. Pisces

Yet another highly empathetic sign, Pisces, is a Water sign that would do anything for their friends. They also avoid conflicts at all costs and would rather take on more responsibilities than they can take, in order to not disappoint anyone.

They are highly sociable and love making new friends, especially if it means talking their ear off about spirituality, alcohol or their favourite band. A Pisces will bake cookies for the entire squad and organize nice things for them to do, and always lend an empathetic ear whenever something happens in their group.

Of course, usually, they are the ones in need of the most support, as they are very sensitive and will cry whenever the wind blows a bit too hard for their liking, but this does not mean that they won’t do the same for their friends (or even their enemies).

#Zodiac #Zodiac Signs #Zodiacs #zodiac facts #zodiacsign #astrology #astrology signs #Aries #Aquarius #Cancer #Capricorn #leo #libra #Gemini #virgo #Pisces #Sagittarius #taurus #scorpio

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missmaniac25 · 11 months

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SKZ and what we think they'd be the god of (plus drabbles)

Thank you to my dear friend @mybodyfails for her imput and help in deciding what they'd be the gods of. (Please remember that this is just my opinion and is completely ficticious) Total words: 2444 (It's about 200-300 per member)

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Chan – god of the ocean and of the underworld

Deep, dark, full of mystery and danger. Chan can be as calm as a puddle in a garden or as scary as the ocean at night. When he’s on earth, you’ll find him on the beach, looking in the rock pools and untangling fishlines from the seaweed. He looks like any other person but when he goes swimming, he’s gone for hours. Chan swims further and deeper than any mortal man is able. He can dive far into the open water, talking to the sea creatures that will swim right up to him even though they avoid all other divers or vessels. Sometimes he pushes the currents a certain way either for himself to just float along or if there’s the chance, to tip over a ship that’s causing havoc to the ocean.

Of course, Chan’s favourite entrance to the underworld is through an underwater cave. He claims that the transition from above ground to below ground is easier that way, but the truth is simply because he enjoys it. In the underworld, Chan is clothed in black. Those that work for him move out of his way quickly. He has business to attend to – dead souls don’t know what to do with themselves. They need instruction. They need reassurance. And Chan is there to give it to them; his voice is calming.

‘You don’t need to be afraid.’

‘Your family is alright.’

‘You’re safe.’

It gives Chan peace of mind to know that one day, when the people that he cares for on the surface move on, it’ll be him who gets to welcome them into the next phase of their existence.

Minho – god of nature and of creatures

Most people notice how cats flock to Minho like he’s a magnet. It’s no accident that they do. All animals know that they’re in good hands if he’s around, that they’ll come to no harm. Minho just likes cats because they’re almost everywhere he goes and they’re good at relying messages. That’s not to say that he doesn’t like other animals, quite the opposite. It takes a lot of self-restraint to not stop and ask birds pecking crumbs off the pavement if they’re finding enough places to build their nests. To stop and talk to the small critters that scurry down backstreets if there have been more traps laid out so that he can remove him. Minho wants to ask the fish in the fish tanks if they’re content with their lives. But alas, there is only so much time in the day and only so many times he can be reported to mortal police for acting strange in public.

If you need to find him, you’d be wise to start somewhere far from the city. Away from concrete and plastic. The clean air of the country gives Minho strength. The clear streams give him tranquillity. The earth under his feet keeps him focused.

Minho’s been known to take on the attributes of animals when the need arises. In the darkness his eyes change shape into those of an owl’s. He can hold onto walls only by his fingertips like lizards do. He can hear people coming long before they’re within eyeline. Sometimes he uses this trick to have fun with people, telling them about things they said long before they ever arrived.

But he also uses these skills to protect nature, to protect the creatures that cannot protect themselves. Should you find yourself facing down Minho, you should know that you wouldn’t walk away in one piece.

Changbin – god of battle strategy and of war

Don’t judge a book by its cover. When Changbin is around friends and other gods, there’s a smile on his face. He like to have fun and laugh. He’s the happiest person you would ever meet. Changbin is a carefree and happy person but below the surface he is a god of principles. He calculates and thinks things through thoroughly; there is never a moment when his mind is completely quiet. He can be laughing, having a grand time and suddenly he will go silent and those with him know that his mind is racing as he thinks through the situation that is plaguing him. If the cause is just, he will entertain the fight.

Changbin is a master of weapons. He can pick up a spear and throw it directly into his target without so much as a glance in its direction. Arrows always land in the bullseye regardless of which way the wind is blowing. He can use a shield in any way he feels he needs to, either to protect or to attack. Even everyday objects can become weapons in his hands. A belt can be made into a whip, or a walking stick into a sword. Changbin has no limitations on what he can use in order to win.

But along with his incredible skills, comes the need to keep those he loves safe. He knows the dangers that are out there. He knows what violence people can be capable of. Changbin will do whatever he has to do in order to shelter them from the harm of the rest of the world. Even if it means putting himself in harm’s way, which he has done before and wouldn’t hesitate to do again.

Hyunjin – god of creativity and of love

Can anything be created without love? Can love exist without creativity? Not to Hyunjin. To him the two concepts go hand in hand; you cannot have one without the other. He loves walking around art galleries, one eye on the paintings hanging on the wall and the other on the people wandering passed. He’ll stop next to someone who is observing an artwork, talk to them for a while, and when Hyunjin walks away that person feels inspired to create, to love, to live. Hyunjin sits in the auditoriums of theatres and listens to the conversations of people around him; he sees as someone’s eyes light up when they mention their favourite part of the play they’re about to watch, and he can’t help but smile at them. Hyunjin loves to walk through the park where the violinist stands just off the pathway that leads to the pond, listening to the melody that calls lovers to stop and watch for a while. And more often than not they start to sway together slowly to the music. All the while, Hyunjin stands off to the side, experiencing the world in its most beautiful state.

Most of the time, Hyunjin doesn’t like to meddle in the affairs of love between mortals but sometimes he can’t help himself. When he can see that two people are meant to be together but cannot seem to take the next step, he will intervene. His favourite way to do it is subtly. Bumping into them and making them hold each other. Making them look at each other after calling their names. And when he knows the time is right, Hyunjin will stand with his camera to his eye, his targets within frame and click the shutter closed and open again. Hyunjin will then watch as the lovers finally accept their fates and begin their journey of love and creativity together.

Han – god of weather (storms)

You can tell what kind of day it’s going to be based solely on Han’s mood when he wakes up. It’s not that Han consciously decides what the weather will be when he wakes up but it’s rather that the world around him responds to how he’s feeling.

Some signs are oblivious. On a warm day, Han is contempt. He’s going about his daily life as he always would. Occasionally clouds may drift across the sun because Han is dealing with something that requires most of his attention. But soon enough the sun will be back in view and he will have resolved whatever matter had been pressing him. A light breeze will swirl around his feet and legs when he’s flustered or shy, and a stronger wind will blow when he’s upset.

The one that seems the strangest is his calmest state – the raging storm. When Han is truly feeling peaceful, you can find him standing outside as rain slashes against him, gusts of wind fiercely tugging at his clothes, thunder echoing and lightning striking every time he smiles. He knows that the elements can’t harm him. He’s in control.

The doesn’t mean that he doesn’t sometimes temper with the weather. Han will use his powers to make his friends happy. When the rainy season has been just a little too long and Felix is looking a bit too sad for his liking, Han will push the clouds away for a day and watch as his friend basks in the warmth. When he notices Chan working too hard, he makes it snow so that they can’t go anywhere; instead, they sit and enjoy a meal together, laughing and watching the snowflakes flutter down to the earth.

There are some other perks. If he doesn’t want to, he can walk in the rain without getting wet. Drying his hair takes no time at all. Plus, he can levitate. Calling it flying would be generous but being able to lift yourself off of the floor just enough to reach the top self is very helpful.

Felix – god of healing and of the home(family)

No scrape is too small for Felix to notice. If he’s out walking, and a child fall’s and bruises their knee, Felix calmly walks over to them, helps them up with a smile and the child is immediately running again, their ailments having disappeared simply because they were near Felix. It makes a warmth radiate from his chest throughout his whole body when he’s able to help someone and he’s fairly certain that as much as he’s healing the mortals, they’re healing him too. On occasion, Felix will be hands on with treatment. Every movement is made with care; every stitch is the perfect sized and evenly spaced. But most of all, Felix likes listening to people’s ailments. Sometimes a person just needs an ear to listen and Felix knows that that can be the most helpful healing he can do when there is nothing physical to fix.

Although it’s not obvious at first, part of healing is having people around you who care about you and so Felix is also the god of hospitality, of family, of the home. He is well aware that family is not just the people who share your blood and bones, and that home is not always a building that you go to. He creates bonds between people in the hopes that they will find healing in each other. That same warmth radiates from his chest when he sees two people become more than just strangers, more than just friends. Felix feels the same way when he’s with his own friends and they feel it too. They feel welcome when they’re with him, like they were never meant to be anywhere else.

Seungmin – god of mischief

Life is too short to not have fun. At least that’s how Seungmin’s likes to think, even if he’s immortal. He can’t help it if the fun he has is at the expense of other people now, can he? With that cheeky smile he can get away with a lot of the tricks that he pulls. By simply smiling at people and they tend to forget what they were angry about. Only once Seungmin’s far away enough do they remember what happened and their anger comes back, but by then it’s someone else’s problem to deal with, not his. He’s not malicious by any means. That’s just how life is sometimes.

In terms of abilities, Seungmin doesn’t have the grandest or most flashy of skills but what he does have he uses to his strengths. He can move objects a short distance without laying a finger on them. He can make it seem like his voice is coming from somewhere he isn’t. He can even create feint illusions, which have gotten him out of a few tricky situations.

Despite his nature, Seungmin knows who to and who not to try his tricks on. Felix, IN and Han are easy targets who don’t get too frustrated with him. Chan and Hyunjin sometimes snap at him but then he leaves them alone for a while and all is well. Changbin and Minho are a no-go, not unless he wants to experience pain. But if given the chance, Seungmin will use his skills to make his friends laugh, to see them happy. He knows that he could have no one close to him with the stunts that he pulls, so to keep some people close he keeps them amused in the only way he knows how, at the expense of other people.

IN – god of the mind and of wisdom

People feel smarter when they’re with IN. They don’t necessarily become smarter but things are just a lot clearer when IN is with them. Problems that had been bothering them for ages suddenly have solutions; knowledge that they had forgotten comes back to them. It’s quite fun for IN to be with someone for a short amount of time, wait to hear the inevitable “Oh!” and then for him to leave, satisfied that they’d figured out whatever needed to be figured out. Sometimes though, people need to be told in order for them to realise. IN will sit patiently listening to what problems people are dealing with before he tells them what he believes they should do about their situation. Whether they do what he tells him or not, IN will never know. He can only hope for the best outcome.

What keeps IN coming back to the mortal realm is the way mortals think. Their minds work so differently to the gods, and differently from each other. IN enjoys not intervening, opting to watch someone solve a crossword or sudoku puzzle. He loves to watch builders and pilots and bakers and tailors. All sorts of people whose minds he can peer into and see how they work.

But IN also knows that minds can get tired, that they need rest. He often tells people to take time to relax and to let their minds have a break. Sometimes he will even ask Felix for help; together they work with people in order to make sure that their minds heal from whatever may be afflicting them. There is nothing more important to IN than a mind that is well and content.

#ok oli i will admit that this got a bit out of hand 😬#but i hope you enjoy it!#stray kids au #skz au #im always keen to know what people think so please feel free to comment #miss maniacs writing

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stellevatum · 1 month

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𝟐-𝟓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 .

I. Purple — Saviin. The color of wisdom, of Dal Tay'haa, who gifted her people the means of recording histories and language. Mandalorians who seek the path of learning rather than war or vengeance will color their armor a shade of purple of their choosing.

II. Black — Ne'tra. The color of void, of shadow, the dark. The color of Sith robes and stealth suits. The color of shadow where secrets hide, and throats are cut. A reminder of where she came and what she could have been.

III. Silver — Pak. The color of beskar, the iron soul that symbolizes her people. The color of Te Kara, the stars of which she gets her name.

IV. Red — Tal. The color of honor, the color of blood. The chosen color of Clan Alor'ade. The color of her Jaig eyes that adorn her helmet, honoring her skill of surviving beyond her years.

V. Turquoise — Kebiivor. The color of the sea, her personal sanctuary, the home she carved with her own hands.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 .

I. Ozone. Discharged blasters, spent heat sinks. The effect of the air making contact around the blade of a lightsaber. The scent of air before a storm hits.

II. Droid Grease. BD-Y and RT-D0 are never too far away from her. As such, they requite frequent maintenance. Sometimes even when the grease is cleaned the scent remains.

III. Pertichor, the soil after the rain. The garden of which have been her peace since her years on Kamino. The garden is her place, her inner sanctum of her home. The smell of Kashyyyk, of Sur'Kesh, of Yavin. The hidden ruins that call for her to seek

𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍 .

IV. Caf or Tea, a brewed beverage is never far from her hand, the time of day or project calls for one over the other some days.

V. Bright floral perfume, like citruses and jasmine, a hint of salt, things that evoke warm summer nights on a tropical planet somewhere.

I. Beskar'gam. While not worn as frequently as it should be, it is still her iron skin, her soul. To handle or touch it without her permission, or not being an intimate of hers is disrespectful and dangerous.

II. High collared shirts, turtlenecks, or undersuits. She can't explain why, she just likes 'em.

III. Big, black, leather boots. Beskar toecaps, magnetic soles. Unless it's a formal occasion (for the most part), they are her footwear of choice any day.

IV. Dark colored glasses; to keep the unwanted stares on the days she doesn't wish to be perceived, to make her more human.

V: Silver jewelry. The armor of the Coruscanti elite, she often still follows in kind when not in her armor.

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 .

I. Twin Lightsabers. The tools of her trade; crafted by her own hand. One kyber crystal stolen from the tombs of a long-dead Sith Lord; the other synthetic of her own creation-- then later purified.

II. BD-Y. It's unfair to call him an "Object", but he's never far from her, where she goes, he is never far behind (because he's hanging in rucksack or on her back).

III. Datapad. The other tool of her trade. When not dealing with information, she's drafting her papers, taking research notes, and anything she thinks is worth committing to her databank.

IV. Guitar. Although trained in the viol and hallikset, the guitar is Kar's preferred instrument, and is often with her on long tours of space to keep her (and her shipmates) entertained.

V. Travel Mug. The means in which this machine is powered. The black, metal, insulated mug has seen her through countless of adventures, and post drink binge caf runs.

𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 .

I. Resting death glare. Don't tell her she'd be prettier if she smiled, or it will be an intentional death glare.

II. Skeptical squints. A narrowing of eyes; discerning friend from foe, truth from utter osik.

III. Talking hands; gestures along when she speaks, the more animated she is, the more interested she is in the conversation.

IV. Crossed arms, a guarding protective gesture. If she's not ready to open to people, annoyed, or other wise unconsciously protecting herself.

V. Rolling eyes. The follow up from the squint; she can only handle so much dwang from a person before giving a sarcastic retorts.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

I. A glass walled labratory filled with books, artifacts, and tools. Whiteboards littered with notes, datapads and paperwork litters the place, chaotic but she knows where everything is.

II. Staring out into the void from a veiwport. A star studded infinity filled with yet-explored worlds and phenomena.

III. A ruined roadside shrine for a god who has been forgotten, nature reclaiming the shrine and road, committing it to the memory of the planet.

IV. The sea before the storm; roiling clouds, roiling waves, ozone in the air. There is both beauty and danger in this moment.

V. A thriving walled garden, grown from scratch with one's own hands. The reward of dedication and labor; a peace created by your own hands.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 .

I. My Brightest Diamond - Lover Killer

II. The Material - Born To Make A Sound

III. Queen - Killer Queen

IV. The Interrupters - Bad Guy

V. The Offspring - You’re Gonna Go Far Kid

—

Tagged by: @amortean

Tagging: @estivalphoenix @hxperion @sirens-shock @truxicanfalconer and anyone else that wants to do it!

#tagged;

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bloompompom · 6 months

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hi bloomy sorry if this is long I just have sm self insert lore that I never get the chance to spill ASHDHSJSH but since you gave the opportunity i’d like to garble about me n eren’s home that i’ve built in my head

it’s a cute 3 bed 2 bath home, just outside of the city but not too far away from the ocean, sort of on a flatter spot on an incline were you can look out over the ocean… It’s an old and cozy house with lots of tile and hardwood floors and stained glass, and we filled it with memories of places and things we enjoy (and I take care of the plants everywhere lol). In our bedroom, we have it filled with posters and pictures, and our bed is messy and unkempt but it doesn’t really matter because it’s covered in fluffy blankets and pillows and stuffed animals anyways. Our bathroom is a bit neater but still has a healthy amount of clutter, and I like to sit down in the tub and blast music whenever I shower and steam up the room hehe. Our living room is almost like our bedroom, full of memorabilia and pictures and books with the comfiest couch we could get thats covered in pillows and blankets. We’ll lay together and watch shows and movies for hours sometimes, just chatting and enjoying each other’s company and rambling about whatever as the sun sets and we settle into the night. I like to think that in the living room, theres a big glass door that opens up to our back porch, worn by rain and wind that’s covered with pots and plants and gardening tools lol. Sometimes we can sit out there while the sun rises in the morning and listen to the wind chimes while we watch the light reflect off the ocean horizon and drink our morning coffee (eren) and tea (me). The kitchen is right next to it, and the fridge is covered in different magnets and notes and lists. There’s recipe books lining some shelves, half from Eren and half from me. He does a lot of the cooking and cleaning, so I bake a lot of sweets for him in return and help him as much as I can with the chores. Our bedroom and the baby’s room are upstairs, while the third room and the other bathroom are downstairs. The second bathroom is small and we mainly use it when we’re busy downstairs, but it’ll be our daughter’s personal bathroom once she’s old enough! The third bedroom is just full of hobby stuff, my art and craft supplies, Eren’s guitars and both of our gaming computers. The Baby’s room obviously has her crib and clothes and all of her things, but we could only keep her in the crib for a night or two before we started sleeping with her in the bedside bassinet instead because we were just too worried… </3 She’ll go back to the room when she’s old enough, at least, and our nice little family can keep enjoying the house for ages to come… Our comfy house were our family can grow and our love can flourish hehe

oh i am absolutely weeping this is so tender 😭 i can see it so perfectly and i love it!!! also that middle pic—that is the dream

tell me about your daughter(if you don’t mind)!! i don’t know much of your lore but now i’m wholly invested

#bloom’s buds 🌱#bloomy asks

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jestanotherclown · 1 year

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🎪A Few Random Headcannons 🎪

There's two ways Fizz takes his coffee. Either pitch black or the sugariest, most caffeinated thing in existence. There is no in-between.

When Fizz gets too hyper, he bounces of the walls. Literally. So Ozzie has to make sure he doesn't overdo it.

He is in constant pain due to his prosthetics and is an avid stoner for this reason. That's also why he drinks like a fish.

He's actually not as mean as he portrays himself to be. He's actually pretty nice, just prickly and a heavily guarded. He's more antagonistic than anything else.

He starts a lot of shit that he can't finish. He can fight but he'd rather not. Especially if things get bloody.

He has to take days off a lot due to his chronic pain and has occasionally passed out during practice or in Ozzie's office before.

He is in charge of the design of Robo Fizz's personality and clothing design. A deal he managed to strike with Mammon. It makes sense considering Robo is supposed to be an exact copy of the real deal after all and who better to do that than Fizzarolli himself?

He's one of the brattiest demons you will ever meet. Rivaling Angel Dust of course. He will tease and mock until someone can put him back in line.

He hides the fact that he's an imp. Partially because he's ashamed and also he feels like if his fans or Ozzie finds out, they will treat him differently. He knows Imps aren't favored in Hell's classist society.

That white face is only partially makeup. Mammon made some alterations when he took Fizz in and one was permanently making his red face white.

Fizz is genderfluid and intersex. He doesn't care about how he presents and wears masculine and feminine clothes. He can go from being masc to femme in a snap. And has dual genitalia.

His tail is actually supersensitive. Any small touch could effect him. He used his tail to express his emotions as well. Much like a cat. When he's irritated, it twitches or lashes depending on how pissed off he is. He uses it to grab things and to hang upside down sometimes and it helps his balance.

He can juggle. Not very well because he's out of practice but he knows how. He can still make balloon animals as well and sometimes does when he gets a chance.

He doesn't know how to cook. No one ever taught him. He's not the best baker either and prefers doing it with a partner in case he fucks up.

His prosthetics occasionally fall off and it sometimes takes him a while to notice

This is going to contradict what I've said about his feeling in his limbs but Fizz can feel some things. Like if someone where to kick him as hard as they could, he'd be able to feel that. But if someone lightly tapped his arm, he wouldn't be able to feel it. Which is why the spot between his neck and where his shoulder begins is the bast place to touch to get his attention.

He has ADHD. Which explains his hyperness and why he can't sit still. He also is constantly forgetting shit and losing things.

One of his features is a magnet that he can turn on and off. This comes in handy when he's lost something metal and can't find it. He just turns on the magnet and pulls it towards him.

#🃏just clownin' around 🃏| headcannons #🎪in the center of the ring 🎶| mun speaks #😈 this is where you let go 🤡| ooc

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derrinqer · 11 months

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@phytonomy ( for vash ! )

she’s struggling to make heads-- or even tails, of the map roberto had handed over to her, the frayed and yellowed edges alluding to its age, of how careful she had to be lest it would shred apart beneath her irritated fingertips if she were to move too quickly or roughly. to slow down, to take her time-- meryl wasn’t adjusted to such a thing, her mind and body always trying to go at a million miles a minute. to go faster, to keep up with what was happening around her-- the map is angled upwards, and then she’s flipping it around and squinting at the tiny text denoting where each town, city, or other point of interest laid. ah, wait, it’s upside down. the paper rustles further then as again she’s adjusting it, brows relaxing as finally, FINALLY she can read the names of places. deep blue hues flick around from location to location as she tries to figure out WHERE exactly they had ended up. meryl’s on the verge of figuring it all out when the wind decides to pick up, delivering a gust that was just strong enough to free the chart from her grasp and send it billowing outwards to skim along the dusty ground before her. she makes a surprised noise before rushing after it with both hands outstretched whilst her shoes methodically carry her forwards. each step the reporter takes, the further the map seems to drift until ... it meets its unfortunate end. beneath the clawed foot of a thomas. paper crinkles and gives beneath the animal’s weight, its claws digging, PIERCING the sheet until it gives way with a soft rip. ❝ ah... oh no.. ❞ roberto was going to kill her. first she’d gotten them tangled up with the infamous humanoid typhoon-- who really wasn’t THAT bad besides the whole... ‘ wanted outlaw ‘ thing, paired with his strange magnetism towards poorly-timed situations. and now this, their ( ahem, roberto’s ) one and only map now destroyed. it’d probably take all of her double dollars to replace it, but with neither her mentor or their stampede around, maybe meryl could grab a new one before either noticed what had happened ? maybe. but sometimes she questioned how much luck she had, because today really seemed like the day it was going to run out.

#“ she’ll be the voice of the people. ” ↼ ⟨ in character. ⟩#phytonomy #not as long as i usually do but. it'll probably get longer. orz

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caspermhahn · 2 years

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Are you sure you wouldn't like to run? A game of tag, perhaps? All we have is time, you know. An eternity of time. Or shall we end it? Might as well. After all, we're missing the party. ― Stephen King, The Shining

tw: blood, suggestive violence, drug mention, hallucinations, weapon mentions: @marcellabelanades, the hahn family, unknown sire

Hours had passed— or maybe just moments, since he and Marcella had split away from the grand ballroom to find themselves astray in the garden’s overgrowth. A usual occurrence when it came to the couple, who would often bid an Irish goodbye to feel as though they were alone among his family’s woodland edged property. So much of the masquerade had brought up those memories as they waltzed, the swamplands being their native soil and was a place the two had not just met but blossomed into more. Bittersweet, a majority of them felt that way as his past had been tethered to his witchcraft and the necromancer’s own. Along with his family and sometimes found that he now missed the things he would then drag his feet about. Though Casper had discovered quite a bit of silver-lining in all of it, the transition and new patterns he forged, and the visage of the faerie realm and new ethos were starting to rest in the daily habits of Rome.

But the twilight of the night sky, brilliant shades of pinks and purples that faded into the mixed blues, was more than a pleasant distraction as the reflection bounced onto his partner’s eyes. Despite all the curveballs that kept flying towards the recently changed vampire, he’d remained optimistic, and showed that rose-tinted outlook in the curvature of his lips before gently planting them on hers. There was never a need to say anything, Casper had been infatuated with the witch since the moment he saw her picking mushrooms on his family's property. He’d thought at first she was an apparition, spirits were known to gravitate towards the abundance of magic surrounding his home or inhabit the local bayou just behind. Then she revealed her name and even his mother had to do a double-take, though that might have been the official moment Angeline attached herself to the witch who currently harbored herself in the thickets and tall grasses. Deathless, undying, everlasting. Maybe those would have been the appropriate words if they were at all needed, masks soon abandoned along with the extravagant attire, the magnetism of it all engulfing them completely.

— — — —

The Pluto vampire could lay there for the rest of his immortality in this state of nirvana. Even without his partner by his side, though preferred, there was just this sense of complete euphoria he’d always longed for. How could he forget the times that he was living in the sweltering, muggy and mosquito infested swamplands; his body positioned similar to this exact one as he attempted to see a world beyond his plane of existence. Surrounded by the start of his father’s yard decoration that encroached on the late summer and early fall blooms his mother worked so hard on each year. A sea of prairie blazing star, creeping liriope, and sunset huskmallow in his view that reminds him of the scene in Alice in Wonderland where she is among all the flowers who speak to her. Yet instead of just bundles of willow leaf sunflower and black-eyed susans, magically carved pumpkins and animated skeletons haphazardly littered the space. The cracking sound just a few feet away snapped him into realization that he was no longer recounting a memory, but back in the bayou. His home, with all its familiar smells and sounds. But that didn’t quite make sense, Casper had just been in the greenery of the fae and not his mothers— hadn’t he?

Lurching up, emerald irises bouncing around as the vampire adorned a look of confusion, Casper noticed the silhouette of his father perched on his family's southern-style wrap around porch. Was this real? Casper had experienced his fair share of delusions and elixir induced fantasies, but there was something about this one that just hit different. This had all the make-up of a nightmare and he couldn’t help the chuckle that flooded from his lips, practically feeling validated for all the times he had referenced his existence in the natural world as his film inspiration. Certainly the silhouette wasn’t Cortney, even if it did sound like him, the former witch’s gut boiled with alarm that told him otherwise. Pumpkin guts splattered across the dark walnut stained deck that shifted to pools of blood as the stranger in sheep's clothing positioned the once embedded hatchet in a way that only suggested one thing; run like hell.

Cypresses and oak trees swoosh past him as his vampire instincts fully take over, irises peeking slightly behind himself in order to see if the stranger was still at his heels, only to notice the sheen of blood in his view. How could they keep up? Casper was no longer a witch testing his illusion magic in the backwaters of Louisiana, but somehow he sensed he was back there in those moments of becoming someone else’s prey and each direction seeming to lead him towards a dead end without much hope for an escape.

#casper.para #e: the masquerade #task 001 / childhood memories #prompt.#// more maybe added later

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shembl · 2 years

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Moby Dick for Normal People - 1

I said I’d do it and I apologised in advance but I’ll do it again here. Sorry.

Here is Moby Dick, rewritten mostly paragraph by paragraph to kind of just boil it down to the gist of what’s being said while keeping the spirit of the tone, if not the wording and the references. Casualified I guess.

Please try to enjoy.

Chapter 1: Bad things might happen

My name is Ishmael. You know, sometimes I get a bit bored, and when I get bored, I tend to act like a bit of a dickhead. When I’m feeling in this sort of mood, experiencing a bit of a Jokerfication if you read me, I just get out on a boat, on the water, some call it the sea. It’s better than killing myself, and I would recommend it wholeheartedly. In this essay I will talk about why this is good for you.

See, I live on islands, mostly, and when you’re on an island, it doesn’t matter where you walk, odds are, you’re gonna find the sea, and when you find the sea, there’s sea breezes coming off it, and loads of people enjoying it. Can’t blame them.

You walk around town, anyways, before you get to the sea, just loads and loads of people, all just doing their own thing, they’re not sailors. They look at the sea a lot but they live in houses??? Seems to me, if they’re going to live on land, they may as well enjoy land, and leave looking at the sea to proper sailors, like I was fancying becoming again.

What even are their jobs? I don’t know, I’m not a business guy. It’s just another mystery to me.

Still, they keep hanging out near the water, maybe it’s all the compasses on the ships, pulling them with magnetic force for a bit of a paddle.

I reckon there’s something about water that calms people down, gets the serotonin pumping. Ask any scientist or science enthusiast, they’ll probably agree. I reckon that if you just go out walking, and it’s not a desert or something, you’ll end up having a nice rest by some water, it’s just what people do, unless there’s no water.

Speaking of water, you know paintings? You can have a really good painting with trees and houses and sunbeams and all that good stuff, even hidden details like a hollowed out log with a man in it, hiding. If it’s not got water in it, it’s shit. Shit paintings don’t have water in them.

Same goes for places. Niagara Falls? Brilliant! The Sahara? Fuck off with that.

What I’m getting at is that water is pretty good, even for people who aren’t sailors.

Or aren’t sailors yet!

You stick any robust lad on a boat and he’s buzzing soon as land’s out of sight. Water is so good, that the water in a fountain killed a Greek God, or so they say.

Now, you can probably tell from all this water and sailor chat, that I’m the kind of guy who goes on boats. You might think I’m not a sailor though, but you’d be wrong to think that, because I am one. This is largely because I am broke, not having money and things along those lines, I have to get people to pay me to go on boats, rather than pay to go on them. I don’t take on any of the fancy work though, like captaining or the other jobs that get to wear nice clothes, and I’m not super keen on cooking either, I’ve never broiled a fowl in my life, but have I eaten a broiled fowl?

Buddy, you’d better believe it!

Love broiled fowl, can’t get enough of it, I’m like the Egyptians, broil me an Ibis, I’ll eat it. Roast me a river horse or “hippo”? Yum. Bake me a mummy in one of your massive pyramids? I’ll down it, bandages and all.

For reference, back to my sailor credentials, here are some types of boat; Yacht, Brigantine, Longship, Raft, Ferry, Cruiser, Pirate, Freighter, Skiff, Schoener, Sloop, Galleon and many more.

Furthermore, here are some parts of ships that I am experienced around; Mast, Brig, Mizzenmast, Spar, Deck, Wheel, Capstan (not the same as Captain) and Front-Mermaid.

A fella like me jumps all over them like some kind of leaping animal or insect. If you come from some kind of hoity-toity fancy family of teachers or something, and you usually get your kicks from lording over the tallest boys in class, friendo, you are gonna have a sharp shocker of a time once people start yelling at you to go all over the ship doing things, so think on this, you Rizzenbaumers, Hizzhelfers, Windsors, Randolfs and Hardy-Canutes, this is real man shit.

You best have read some good books, they might help.

See, when you’re on a ship, like I have been, you get used to all these hunky sea captains ordering you around, beating you up with punches and emotional abuse, but you just get on with it, it’s not worse than anything in the bible? Is some famous angel gonna come down and frown at me for obeying my hunky masters? I doubt it.

Ain’t nobody free in this life, least of all me, but I just get on with it, workers rights don’t make right, after all.

I just have faith that every act of abuse unleashed upon my body and soul on those long months at sea, will eventually be revisited on my abusers by the universe itself and in the meantime, we should just be nice about it, give your pal a backrub or something, you know?

But hey, at least I’m getting paid. Getting paid is great, doing the paying though? Worst thing since ever. Since Adam and Eve, (thieves) stole that apple and got us all fucked up. Capitalism baby, the original sin, I’ve always said. But then getting paid is awesome, so who can really say if it was all that bad a crime?

Weird though, that getting paid is so nice, since these bigwigs in the church keep saying that rich people don’t go to heaven. This is one of the reasons I have chosen to be poor.

There’s more than one way to be rich though, there’s money, that’s a thing, I guess. But fresh air? Can’t put a price on that, and as the sailor that they give all the bad jobs to, that leaves me usually at the front of the ship, and since ships go forwards, that means I get all the wind first, and the fat cats up on the fancy part of the boat have to breathe it second, after I’ve already taken my fill of delicious sea air. Suck it down, hat-wearers, that’s my germs you’re breathing, HA!

Whaling though?

Whaling’s a new one to me.

Not sure why I thought it might be a good idea.

Almost feels like it wasn’t my idea.

Almost like there’s some kind of invisible police officer of the fates, constantly keeping an eye on me, following me everywhere, whispering horrible, unknowable truths in my ears when I’m trying to sleep.

You should ask him, if he’s real, because I don’t fucking know why whaling.

It’s probably in some list of prophecies this invisible sea-word (ha!) has tucked under his fetid, transparent armpit, “Ishmael goes a-whaling” is probably sat in there right next to. “Ishmael becomes President” and “Ishmael in Afghanistan, BLOODSTORM.”

Some people get to do cool and fun things, but old Ishmael here, Ishmael gets beaten up by hunky captains for a living, and now he’s gonna go and get whale guts all over him too. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this shitty hand, but in retrospect, maybe fate just doesn’t have enough toilet paper for everyone.

The sales pitch about the whaling, they just spent ages telling me all about how whales are absolutely massive, like the size of an island, and they’re really scary and dangerous. Being a big tough and handsome guy though, I was like “Hell yeah, I’m up for this.”

Other people (cowards) would not have been keen, even though they said there were some nice islands to look at.

Me though? I’m the kinda guy who likes to go to fucked up places and see fucked up things and fucked up people.

I make friends with anyone, bastards, arseholes, monsters, you name it, I get along with it. If you’re in a place, you may as well get along with the horrors that inhabit it. Like I say, less hate, more back rubs, you know?

So I got on to whaling, and all there was in my head was thoughts about whales, and some foreboding image, of what it might look like if there was a really massive white whale, with its face sticking up in the air, god can you imagine, (I did) it’d look like a massive snowy hill sticking out of the water.

Like an iceberg, but whale.

#writing #moby dick #herman melville

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