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#so i just. decided to mess with the resource packs and eventually!! figured out how to get it working!!
spectrearia-archive · 2 years
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yO!! i figured out how to copy my favorite minecraft wheat textures from one resource pack into a whole other pack just by trial and error alone and im. so happy aaaa!!! :'D
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Stay True wheat, my beloved <3
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blueberry-lemon · 6 months
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What I Did In 2023
Ever since finishing school in 2017, I've always had a hard time feeling like I've "accomplished anything" in a given year. The months all blur together, and it's crazy how quickly I will forget something that happened or something I did.
To help myself with this, I wrote up a post last year of What I Did In 2022, which honestly felt good. So I figured I'd try again.
Sorry if you find these kinds of posts obnoxious. Hidden under the Read More just in case you do!
A few things I accomplished in 2023:
I wrote some stuff
I wrote Chapters 3 and 4 of Soul Symphony: Abandoned Encore. This is a sequel to a webcomic called Soul Symphony that I made and completed from 2010-2015. Olivia Myers, former music maestro and magical-girl adventurer, lives life as a depressed freelancer after quitting her teaching job. I think literally only like 2 or 3 people are even reading this, but good enough!
I wrote about JOMO, the Joy of Missing Out, when players have to work with different characters and resources in games.
I wrote a review of Bittersweet, an album by Jamie Paige.
My big piece of the year, which I chipped away at for months, reflected on nostalgia in culture and our personal lives.
I wrote about Cozy Games, which bizarrely was recognized in a Critical Distance weekly roundup.
I wrote about my fear for the direction of art and social media, a review of the writing in Sea of Stars, and other Cohost/Tumblr posts, which you can find in the #blogofkylelab tag.
As usual, I've continued my work as a Writer working on Rhythm Doctor, detailed below.
Art and Game Dev
Another sad year of barely 👏 drawing 👏 anything 👏 which is a huge bummer but I'm coming to terms with it.
Don't have anything finished to show for it, but doing a lot of messing-around in Twine and RPGMaker, which has been good for practice at least.
I funded the guest art and music for an upcoming card game, Isle of Swaps. I commissioned around a dozen artists, who I think drew around 50 total cards. Getting paid work as an artist is getting rough out there, so I wanted to help freelance artists the best I could.
Still working on Rhythm Doctor and A Dance of Fire and Ice at 7th Beat Games
We released Act 5 of Rhythm Doctor, which was our huge undertaking of the year! I co-wrote this with fizzd, and for the first time we were working with a completely blank slate with no levels made beforehand. I was recently looking through my Google Docs and was reminded how many different drafts and outlines I had come up with for this Act, some of which were long before the "athlete" story was even decided upon at all. I eventually helped come up with the character of Lucky (designed by our pixel artist Winston), and we got it all built out from there. I had a part in almost every sentence you see in the Act, I believe. I think I did an okay job, and players seem to really like the story and characters of Act 5, so that's a big relief.
Other Stuff
I've been running IndieGamesOfCohost for more than a full year now! I hope people have been enjoying this. It's been really tough to make the spare time for it, especially getting multiple developer interviews up per month, but I'm gonna keep pushing forward. Maybe "one interview a month" is a better goal to aim for. It's hard to tell how much people enjoy the efforts, but people do keep Liking and Sharing and Following so hopefully that means I'm doing something good with my spare time lol.
My partner and I moved! Aside from Act 5 of Rhythm Doctor this was probably the biggest thing. It was my first time apartment-hunting, as well as finding and paying for a moving truck and buying big furniture, getting renters insurance and all sorts of annoying stuff. In past apartments, I was lucky enough to be invited in as a roommate after the place was already set up. I also helped my parents pack up to move from the house they lived in for 28 years. Lots of moving. Hopefully no moving in 2024.
I hope your 2023 was bearable! Take pride in the little things you were able to get done. Let's all push through 2024 together.
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illusionsofdreaming · 3 years
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Oblivious
Notes: Headcanons on what if they fell in love with the super oblivious type??? *cue chaos*
Ft.: Cale, Choi Han, Alberu
Cale Henituse
this is tough. because Cale is the master of causing misunderstandings unintentionally because he NEVER EXPLAINS HIMSELF
it’s just agony for everyone around them as they watch the rom-com disaster unfold
Cale does nice things for you, buys you gifts and trinkets but never really explains what they’re for, assuming you’ll understand his intentions
you, who is completely used to Cale’s extravagant spendings, just thinks it’s just Cale doing Cale things - throwing money around
these gifts are bought with much thought of you in mind - such as the fact that the new sword is perfectly weighted for you. A little golden turtle etched onto its grip so that he’ll always be with you even when you’re fighting on the front lines
just little details and sprinkle in a little noble etiquette flirting that unfortunately, goes over your head
handmade chocolates, couple accessories, food (always)…
it just doesn’t really go anywhere for a very long time, because Cale is under the illusion that it’s going very well and you’re under the impression that Cale is being Cale. Taking care of everyone.
eventually it becomes too much for the sideline viewers - they’ll be dead before the two of you get together so they collectively pulled some strings
half of them went to knock some sense into Cale, “CONFESS UPFRONT PLEASE”
the other half went to enlighten you, because no, these aren’t just friendly gifts. friends don’t send matching rings to each other OK??
when he finally confessed and you finally got it, the others are cheering louder and celebrating harder than the two of you
Choi Han
Action more than words kind of guy
He doesn’t say he likes you so much as he shows he cares for you
Such as: keeping his eyes on you at all times on the battlefields, partnering up with you all the time, covering your weak points, being there when you need someone to talk to
others have encouraged him to confess and the good boy really did try his best
but the gods must’ve had it out for him, for every time he tried to get his feelings clear, something or someone would interrupt his attempts 
in the end Choi Han decided it’s alright if he never gets his feelings across, truthfully he’s content as long as he’s able to remain by your side
until it’s not alright
you woke to the vision of him by your bedside, looking as if he hasn’t left your side for the three days you’ve been unconscious (he hasn’t)
a little shift and he’s immediately awake, gripping his sword as he scanned the surroundings with ferocious intent, the dangerous aura he released suffocating and overwhelming as it blanketed over you
the moment he realises you’re awake though, the rage in his eyes extinguished immediately and to your shock, tears pooled and rolled down his face as he shakily took your hand
his sobs were heartbreaking as he held desperately onto your hand and the worries that plagued his mind those three days spilled uncontrollably out of his lips
“I thought I lost you. I can’t bear the thought of losing another person- I can’t-“
in the heat of emotions, he poured and laid his heart bare for you to see
and regardless of how dense you were in the past, there’s no way you couldn’t see just how important you’ve become to him after this
it was a day which changed both your lives 
Alberu Crossman
taking into account my previous relationship HCs for him….
Alberu’s fallen for you and decides to patiently. wait. until. you. figure. it. out. 
Add in the complications of a political marriage, he knows better than to force his feelings on you
He’s always been a sweet gentleman but now he’s going to pull out all the stops and use every and all resources he has at hand to woo your socks off
Coordinating your clothes to match, making appearances together in public, inviting you to join meetings or making time in his packed schedule to spend with you 
The purpose is to show the public that he is very much endeared to his partner
Meanwhile, oblivious you is panicking behind a facade of calmness
Is he flirting??? Is this another one of his elaborate plans to secure support that you have yet to be informed of? Should you act along?
If you go down that route and act like the world’s most happily married couple in public - know that it’s literally killing him inside. He’s already head over heels how is he going to resist from kissing you now??? Are you temptation incarnate? 
The fact he knows you’re only acting this way because of a misunderstanding is so cruel 
Cale (the son of a bitch) sniggers at his misery and offers 0 help (“It’s your mess. Sounds bothersome.”)
Would plan and stage a sabotaged assassination attempt on his person, so that he would have an excuse to move the both of you into a shared bedroom
“Please bear with the discomfort for a while. It’s easier for the guards to protect us both if we’re in the same place.”
As a gentleman he’d very quickly and firmly offered to sleep on the couch
You of course scoffed at the ridiculous idea and told him that the bed is big enough for two and you trusted him 
He’s very much charmed by your innocence, wry his smile was as he thought - if only you knew
(for the longest time, Alberu had to take extra naps during work, for the tantalising warmth of your body, so close and yet so far kept him awake for many nights in a row.)
Anyways, it worked out eventually, even if at times, he felt like he’s about to lose his sanity
(Cale scoffs, knowing that the ridiculous situation would’ve been less complicated and resolved much sooner if the two of them had been honest about their feelings in the first place.)
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gloriafc · 4 years
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Paul imprinting on Emily's best friend -Part 1
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You met Emily in high school. She's older and took you under her wing. When you decided to join the military she wrote to you once a week, sending you pictures of the scenery and occasional recipes for you to try.
You took the advantage of going to school with military resources, earning your medical degree and becoming an on-base doctor but also gaining the skills of a marine.
While in the military you were attacked by someone with a knife and now have scars running down your thigh, just like the ones on Emily's face. Emily hates the story, but Sam finds it cool
You've met Sam, from the occasional trips you managed to take home during your deployment, and he'll joke around calling you a troublemaker and say that every time she goes somewhere with you, the two of you end up in trouble. But he loves the friendship you have with her, and thinks of you as a sister, he's happy she has someone outside of the pack to hang around with, someone normal.
"I'm not going to get her in trouble." "Last time you said that, I had to pick up two drunk messes from the bar. Then you proceeded to kick me out of my bed so you could finish your girl's night." "Well yeah it's called girls night, not girls night plus the boyfriend."
Despite being Emily's best friend the only pack members you've met are Seth and Leah, only because they're her cousins. The guys have seen pictures of you around Emily's house, but that's a given, you have pictures of her around your house as well.
You've heard stories from Emily about the boys, and nicknamed them Sam's children.
Since you had a couple days off from work Emily talked you into a sleepover at her house, she banned the boys from coming over knowing that they can get loud and would ruin her time with her best friend.
Sam ended up calling them to meet up for a patrol the next day warning them to be quiet. You and Emily were passed out on an air mattress in the living room, having fallen asleep at five in the morning after a night of talking, watching movies, and Sam can only wonder what else you two got into.
Despite being told to be quiet, they walked in like they usually do. They all stopped when they saw Sam's face, "I told you to be quiet. Now they're waking up." Sam can only gesture to where you and Emily are starting to stir, Emily just rolls over but you push yourself up onto your arms with a glare directed towards Sam, "Do you know what time I went to sleep?" "Too late o'clock." You can only throw the pillow you're using, hitting him square in the face before flopping down on the mattress.
Sam can only shake his head and continue drinking his coffee as he tosses the pillow back on the mattress, it landing on your head making you grunt. When he turns to look at the boys he freezes seeing Paul frozen and staring at you.
When everyone comes back from patrol around noon, you and Emily are barely finishing getting ready and making lunch. You can only stare at how much food she pulls out before helping her. She has you make your special potato salad, knowing the boys will absolutely love it.
As everyone returns you're grabbing your purse to head to work, Sam can only grin as he throws his arm over your shoulder smelling the potato salad on the counter, "You know sometimes I don't hate you Y/L/N." "Oh please. You love me all the time Uley." You wave bye to Emily, not stopping to catch names of the new faces, but hug Seth and Leah on your way out.
As Emily's finishing putting the sandwiches together for everyone Sam starts piling a huge helping of potato salad on his plate, they boys all look at him, noticing it isn't Emily's. Finally Jared speaks up, "It can't be that good. It's not even Em's." Emily just smiles and shakes her head pushing the bowl in the center after taking some, "Who do you think taught me how to make potato salad. I've never been able to perfect it, there's just something Y/N does and I can't figure it out." Each boy takes a bite before groaning in happiness, Jared looking at Paul when Emily is out of earshot, "Your imprint can cook. We can keep her." Jared gets slapped upside the head by Sam.
After a couple days of going back and forth of who should tell Emily Paul imprinted on her best friend, Sam can only roll his eyes as he approaches the woman who's talking to you over the phone while reading a recipe book.
"I'm borrowing Emily." "What! No! I need help!" "She'll call you back." "ULEY! DON'T YOU-" Emily can only look at her phone before looking at Sam and the boys behind him while crossing her arms, "You have about five seconds before she calls back, or five minutes before she's on the front porch." Sam can only chuckle before looking at Paul then back to Emily. "Paul imprinted. On Y/N"
Emily can only stare in shock before it starts to register in her head, "Y/N Y/N. My Y/N. Best friend Y/N. With Paul." Sam can only shake his head, "Yup."
Emily found a way to get you to meet the guys, more specifically Paul. In a way he was grateful, but he also wanted to be able to talk to you without Emily meddling.
Eventually he did work up the nerve to ask for your number, with the help of Sam distracting Emily. After a while the two of you began talking. He was dead set on trying to make you catch feelings for him before you found out about the legends and the imprint, but he quickly found out that wouldn't be possible.
The pack walked in on you desperately trying to get Emily to open the door to the room. "Come on Em. Don't make me pick the lock. It's only for a couple months." "You just came back! You can't leave again!" Everyone can hear Emily's voice crack, like she's been crying, making Sam instantly try to open the door as he looks at you, "What happened?"
Before you can say anything Emily rips open the door with tears streaming down her face, "She's leaving." Sam's quick to pull her into a hug as he looks at you. You finally notice everyone staring at you, your eyes fall on the man you've quickly started to fall for and spend all your free time texting.
You quickly turn your attention to Sam's questioning eyes and answer the question everyone wants to ask, "I'm getting deployed. They need more medical staff on base in Afghanistan. Sargeant personally came down to inform me. He said anywhere between 3 months and 2 years. I. I leave within the next week or so."
Feeling everyone's eyes on you starts to feel like it's suffocating you. You've built a bond with everyone, some stronger than others, so you can't help but push past everyone to head outside and climb into your car, leaving.
Paul found you at the beach, staring at the waves with your toes in the sand. He sat himself down next to you in silence for a couple minutes. He ran his finger down one of the scars on your thigh, "Tell the story."
You spoke without moving your eyes off of the water, "My first tour. We were on our way back to base, checking a few things, making sure it was safe. A guy we missed. Jumped out with a knife, I was the closest and the smallest so he went for me. Didn't think he expected me to fight back. He got a couple good ones in, before he was knocked off. Had to stitch myself closed before I bled out."
Paul doesn't say anything when you finish talking, you just sigh and put your head on your arms and close your eyes, "She does this every time. She knows it's my job. It's what I love doing." "She just doesn't want you to leave. No one does."
When there's only a couple days until you leave Sam and Paul show úp at your door, "What are you doing here?" "There's something you need to know."
They proceed to tell you about the legends, how they're real and goes on to tell you about imprints. Sam proceeds to tell you, "It's why Emily's so upset. She feels that the imprint would keep you here, with her."
You stare at the ground in silence with your arms crossed, not knowing what to think. It's obvious you're being told, well one because they just flat out said you're Paul's soulmate, but because you're leaving and there's a small chance you won't return.
Sam leaves saying this isn't a conversation he needs to be in, before showing himself out.
"Say something." Your eyes break away from the floor to Paul's face, who is searching yours for... anything. "What does this mean?" He's taken back, he never thought about what the imprint would mean to the two of you, most imprints get together almost immediately, but that doesn't seem possible for the two of you. "I. Don't know."
The two of you stay up until almost 3 in the morning trying to figure out what to do. Finally deciding on keeping the same relationship you already have, and if it moves forward, that happens on its own.
When the day comes for you to leave, everyone wants to send you off. They're all so used to seeing you in regular clothes that they almost can't recognize you in uniform. There's a big feeling of sadness above everyone's heads, everyone hugs you before your flight gets called. Paul and Emily's hugs last the longest, and you almost don't let go. "Captain, it's time to go." "I'm coming lieutenant."
You can't even bring yourself to look back as you board the plane. Knowing if you do, you'll go against orders and stay.
Every week you get a giant envelope filled with smaller envelopes with letters from everyone. You laugh as you look at the pictures, sending back some of your own. Occasionally you're able to FaceTime with everyone but that's rare.
As more time passes, through letters to and from Paul, your bond strengthens. You hear from almost everyone that he snaps more but is quick to apologise, no one blaming him since his imprint is in a different country. When it hits 7 months of you being gone, you become his girlfriend. When you're homesick, you reread that letter and push through, counting the days until you get to go home.
After almost a year of you being deployed, you finally get to go home. You don't tell anyone except Paul about when you get to go home. Anytime Emily asks, you tell her you're not sure, but you know sometime soon.
As soon as you walk through the gates, you're swept off your feet. You and Paul stand there for what feels like hours in his arms, finally feeling like you're home before you separate. He's quick to pull you to his car, so he can take you home, knowing you want to shower before heading to Emily's to surprise her and eat.
The whole ride you make small talk, his hand never leaving yours, smiles never leaving your faces until you're in your house and grabbing clothes to change into.
You take a quick shower happy to use your own soap and scented lotion. You happily skip into your living room feeling so comfortable in your skinny jeans and crop top. You slip on your sneakers before pulling Paul out of the house so you can see your best friend.
When you get to Emily's Paul goes in first, everyone noticing he's in a better mood. "Did you FaceTime her? Without us!" Paul can only shake his head before you burst in and tackle Emily to the ground, it taking her a second to register what just happened before Paul points, "That's why."
It takes a second for it to register in Emily's head, what just happened. As soon as it does, she immediately starts squeezing you so tight Paul can practically feel it. "YOURE HERE!" You can only smile down at her while nodding. The first words to leave your mouth, "Please tell me you just made food. I've eaten MRE's for almost a year."
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kuriquinn · 4 years
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A Tender Harvest [one-shot]
Disclaimer
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25994254
Pairing: SasuSaku
Summary:  Sakura and Sasuke help a village with their apple harvest, and Sasuke thinks about his relationship with Sakura. The thing about traveling together is it makes it that much easier to fall in love.
Author’s Note: So, I wrote this for the fanzine Seasons like a year or two ago and then completely forgot that it existed? And then I was trying to organize the mess that is my writing files and stumbled upon it again and figured, hey, why not post it? Especially since we’re coming up on Fall again lol. (Also, I don’t want people thinking I’m dead or something. I am working on some stuff for SasuSaku, but the creative juices haven’t been flowing as easily as they used to for this fandom…or, well, any fandom if I’m being honest. Kind of stuck in one of those “I should be writing original stuff” funks that hinders all of my fanfic efforts of late. But I am trying!)
Anyway, so here’s something (sort of) new for your enjoyment!
________________________________________________________________
Sasuke curses at the sudden lancing pain in his hand and yanks his arm out of the foliage to glare at his palm. In the centre, a wasp sticks to his skin by the stinger, its tiny wings and appendages flailing to remove itself. Sasuke gives a harsh flick of his wrist, dislodging the insect and sending it flying off somewhere near the ground.
He doesn’t kill it; if there is a nest nearby that would attract others, and there are enough of the little pests buzzing around the trees as it is.
It is early October, the hot autumn sun unimpaired except for some light haze and few bulbous white clouds in the distance. Crickets chirp, and the scent of wet earth inundates the air, mingling with sweat and the distant smell of a brush fire.
The little village where Sasuke and Sakura have been staying the last few days has an economy based largely around produce. Their apple trees, vineyards and rice fields require rigorous tending, as the yield is what keeps them from starving during winter months. They plant a lot, which means they harvest a lot, and any extra hands are welcome. Originally, Sakura and Sasuke travelled here because there was a need for a healer, but they chose to stay and help.
That’s a common enough pattern these days. Sakura keeps an ear out for places that need extra medical attention, and Sasuke fills his days with odd work. The routine is also an excellent cover for gathering information. People rarely ask them questions, too thankful for Sakura’s medical skills, and even without them, Sasuke’s arm usually discourages comment. There were enough men and women badly wounded in the war that no one needs to ask.
It also lends credence to his and Sakura’s wandering, since many people’s homes were destroyed by the war; first by the Zetsu army, and then marauders in the aftermath.
And we’ve encountered quite a few of those, too. Some friendly, some…not.
While Sakura makes house calls, he helps in whatever field where they need him. There were initially some who looked uncertain of his ability be useful, but he soon showed that his missing arm was barely a handicap.
Today he works in the apple orchard. It’s fairly large, maybe twenty acres, and there are a hundred or so people working alongside him. Clumps of men and women are scattered throughout, picking and packing apples in large baskets. A similar number of people sit just beyond the orchard, slumped or lying on the ground, or gathered around the few wagons with water. A few children squeeze into the tiny bit of shade provided by the wagons, but in this heat there’s barely any point to it.
The only ones happy in this weather are the wasps, Sasuke decides, frowning at his palm to see if the stinger is still attached. It’s not, but the skin is already beginning to puff up from the venom.
He shrugs it off—it’s not his first injury of the day, and he’s endured much worse in his life—and goes back to twisting the gleaming red fruits off their branches. It’s uncomfortable, but he finds he’s more irritated by the sweat drenching his clothing than the minor wound.
The orchard workers have had to work in shifts because of the rising temperature, and because Sakura insists that everyone who works needs to stay properly hydrated.
Sakura…
Sasuke became aware of her proximity about a half an hour ago, obviously finished with her work in the village and now arrived to help. Since then he has been vaguely conscious of her bringing people water or traipsing into the orchard to retrieve anyone who she thinks looks tired. No one bothers to protest the way she’s taken charge, either, and though it could be her status as a respected healer, he somehow doubts that’s the reason.
He remembers what she was like back in Konoha, carrying out important errands for Kakashi and running the hospital.
As always, on the tail of that thought he experiences a half-second of guilt for having taken one of their village’s most important resources on a mission of indeterminate length. The second half-second he buries that feeling, reminding himself it was her choice.
And he has no intention of admitting it out loud, but he can’t imagine how the past few months would have been without her by his side.
Well. He can imagine; he just doesn’t care to.
A bell rings in the distance, and someone shouts, “Break time! Change shifts!”
There are groans all around—relief from the orchard workers, and resignation from the vicinity of the wagons.
Sasuke ignores the call, intending to finish filling his basket before heading in, but even as he reaches for the next branch, there is a cough from down below.
When he glances down, he is unsurprised to find Sakura there, hands on her hips. “That means you too, Sasuke.”
“I’m almost finished.”
“No, you are finished. The foreman told me you started with the morning crew and didn’t switch out with the rest,” she informs him. “Just because you’re about the greatest shinobi alive, doesn’t mean you can’t get heatstroke. And just because I will take care of you if you get a fever and start throwing up everywhere, doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”
Sasuke’s mouth tugs upward a little.
It’s been an interesting dimension to their travels, Sakura speaking to him so frankly. There were a few days when they first set out together that she was still stuttering and wordlessly following his lead in everything; a few bandit encounters and a shouting match later, she found her backbone again.
Now, the only time he sees her flustered or nervous is because he’s caught her gazing at him, or when she realises she’s said something with unintended innuendo. 
“Annoying woman,” he murmurs into the tree, but the words have long since graduated from contempt to affection.
With an affected air of reluctance, he picks up the basket he was filling and raises an eyebrow at her. She grins, and says, “Come on.”
Sasuke trudges after her toward the nearest wagon, sets down his basket, and heads for the water barrels. Children pour it into cups for the workers, some darting among the amassing crowd to pass them out. This is how Sasuke ends up with one of them, and he is quick to put it to his lips.
He takes several slow mouthfuls, to minimize the risk of brain freeze, and takes pleasure in the way the liquid dissolves the dry, gummy feeling in his mouth and throat. The second cup he is offered, he pours over his head, enjoying the sensation of the cold rivulets cutting through his sweat-streaked hair and down his neck.
Sakura lingers nearby, the look on her face conveying an ‘I told you so’, which he patently ignores before joining the line for lunch. The women of the village pass out rice balls and beef skewers; he accepts gratefully, and then he searches out the nearest bit of shade he can.
There’s an old momiji tree several yards away from the larger group of workers, its leaves already turning red and gold, but still providing enough cover from the sun. He heads for that and is unsurprised when Sakura joins him.
As they pass, he notices people shooting them knowing glances or smiling in something like approval. Several young girls whisper conspiratorially. When he was younger, he would have purposely ignored such scrutiny, at times not even realising what the whispers meant. Though he still pretends obliviousness now, he now fully understands the reason for the unspoken interest.
The implication that he and Sakura are more than just travelling companions doesn’t bother him the way it might have before. In fact, he finds odd comfort in the thought. These days, they are on the cusp of something more, something inevitable. They’ll get there eventually, but he finds himself in no great hurry to do so.
Not because he doesn’t care for her—there’s no question that he does.
But too much of his life was spent hurtling from one state to the next, never content with his current existence and always wishing for more. With this—with Sakura—he wants to take his time and experience every moment.
He’s pretty sure Sakura is of the same mind.
As they sit, she sets down the plate she was balancing between her forearms, and two cups. He takes the latter, still more thirsty than hungry, and drinks deep.
Noticing his blink as a bitter taste hits his tongue, Sakura says, “There’s cold tea mixed in. That quenches thirst better than just water alone, and the electrolytes will keep you going.”
“Hm.”
They eat in companionable silence, yet another new quality to their relationship. Part of it is that now Sakura has an appetite that rivals his own and doesn’t like to waste time talking when she could be eating. The rest stems from the indescribably pull that has always existed between them, an ease one only experiences with the most trusted of kindred spirits. Words would mar that somehow, and neither seems willing to do that right away.
It is only when her meal is finished that Sakura reaches into her pack and produces—of course—two bright red apples.
“I may have snuck a few,” she admits with a smile.
Sasuke snorts. “You’re in an apple orchard. I think you could be forgiven.”
She laughs at that and bites into one of the fruits, making a tiny noise of pleasure at the flavour that has Sasuke swallowing uncomfortably. A rivulet of juice drips down her chin, and he finds himself tracking its progression.
Sakura notes his attention before he can look away, and her cheeks darken.
“Sorry!” she says, a little flustered, and puts aside the apple. “You probably want some too, right?”
There is something I want.
The thoughts present themselves unbidden as Sakura digs around in her kit for a knife, and starts to peel the second apple over her empty plate. His cheeks a little warmer than earlier, he looks away and pretends disinterest.
“Don’t trouble yourself. I haven’t even finished my lunch.”
“Then it will be ready when you are,” she quips without stopping.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her carefully dispose of the peel and then cut the apple into eight equal slices. Anyone else would think she was babying him, but he knows this is just her way. She genuinely enjoys doing this. He is, of course, perfectly able to cut up his own fruit, or eat an apple as is. But he doesn’t like apple peels, and never has.
He wonders when exactly Sakura noticed that about him.
She holds out the plate of apple slices to him, beaming, and he remembers a similar scene, many years ago. Of her worried and smiling face, her nervous chatter and her hand holding out a plate of apples. And then the clatter as the plate and fruit itself were knocked to the floor.
This time he accepts, forgetting that he hasn’t finished his lunch, and bites into the first slice. The white flesh is sweeter than the apples he usually eats—he prefers them tart and sour—but it’s perfectly in season and tastes good. 
Sakura’s lips part in surprise, and the motion causes him to nearly miss as he pops the rest of the fruit into his mouth. Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to see; instead, her eyes flick toward his hand, mouth firming.
Damn. I meant to keep that hidden.
Sakura barely waits for his hand to be empty before taking him by the wrist. “You’re hurt!”
The skin of his forearm and hand is crisscrossed with welts and scratches, as well as several wasp stings from when he was reaching into the trees. He’d forgotten about them, but with her attention, the dull hurts flare to life.
“It’s nothing,” he tells her, trying to take his hand back, but she doesn’t relinquish it.
“You always say it’s nothing. I’ve stopped believing you.”
“I guarantee everyone else working in the orchard has the same thing.”
“And I’ll get to them. But you’re here right now, and knowing you, you’re going to throw yourself back into work right away, so it won’t be until this evening when I get my hands on you again…” He raises an eyebrow at her. Her eyes widen. “That…didn’t come out right…”
He can’t help the slow smirk that pulls at his mouth, and she scowls at him.
“Shut up,” she grumbles, twin spots of rouge flaming even darker across her cheeks but holds his hand closer to her. Green chakra flickers between her fingers, seeping into his muscles and tendons, easing the sharp aching of scraped skin and pulling muscles.
While she heals, her expression relaxes, embarrassment giving way to concentration. He’s noticed that about her: when she uses her medical ninjutsu, everything else appears to fall beyond her awareness.
Still, there’s a tiny smile upon her lips and the fading colour across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones that has nothing to do with the autumn swelter. 
When she releases him, she is unabashed and cheerful again. “Better?”
He flexes his fingers, studying the newly healed skin, and nods.
“Thank you.”
Sasuke straightens and reaches for another apple slice, frowning at a mild pinching sensation behind his neck. He hasn’t even rolled his shoulder once to disperse the tension, before Sakura is leaning toward him again, eye filled with concern.
“You’ve strained your neck,” she says, and it sounds accusing, as if she thinks he deliberately kept it from her.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have! I know what that looks like.”
“I haven’t done anything strenuous enough,” he replies, a little indignant because he knows his body’s limits.
“Spending the day with your arm raised overhead and twisting fruit off branches requires different movements than kenjutsu or taijutsu,” she lectures. “If you don’t take care of it now, you’ll regret it tomorrow.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Stop being so stubborn! Lie down and I’ll fix it for you.”
“No.”
“Sasuke…!”
She is growing annoyed, not understanding the reason for his refusal. He is easier with her lately when it comes to touching or being touched. It’s happened often enough—huddled together in the shelter of a tree when it rains, elbows bumping when they crowd into communal meal halls, or checking each other’s wounds.
If they were alone, he would let her ease the knots from his neck and shoulders, but right now they are in front of an entire village of people. Some of whom are viewing the interchange with blatant interest and amusement, others barely concealing the smiles on their faces.
The back of Sasuke’s neck feels warm. He dislikes such attention.
A look creeps across Sakura’s face, the one that Sasuke knows he will have no recourse against, and he has to act before it fully manifests..
“If you don’t lie down right now…” she begins, her voice rising with each syllable.
“Sakura,” he says, his tone soft but firm in its finality.
Her expression freezes at that, and she blinks, coming back to herself. Then, glancing around, she spots what he has been aware of for a while—the audience of workers pretending not to be observing them. 
Her look of surprise is almost comical, and her cheeks flood red once more.
“I didn’t mean— I wasn’t going to— not in front of—” she stammers, all apologies and embarrassment and avoiding eye contact. She jumps to her feet, nearly slopping tea over them both. “I have to get back. They, um, probably need help cleaning up, and I have to go out and check on the other workers, and you…well, you’re right…we can, um, your arm…I’ll just…”
He’s enjoying her fluster more than he should and opens his mouth to speak—to say something smooth in delivery or laden with implication—so that it continues.
But she’s biting her lip as if to physically stop herself from stammering, and her eyes are shining just so, even as they dart about trying to avoid his gaze, and as has become a frequent occurrence, Sasuke discovers every word in his vocabulary suddenly vanishing from his brain.
It takes him several seconds longer than he expects to remember at least one.
“Later?” he suggests.
Sakura stops her fidgeting and meets his gaze. This time he doesn’t bother hiding his small smile from her.
That unnameable something passes between them, bolstered by the rustling leaves and dense heat around them.
Then she smiles back, a gentle and pleased upward curve of her lips, and nods. “Right. Um…later.”
She hurries away after that, tripping a few times before her posture straightens and he watches her transform from his Sakura to the no-nonsense, hyper-confident medic and director.
Sasuke finishes his meal and eases to his feet, ready to head back into the orchard. On his way, he passes one of the workers who is staring Sakura with an air of awe.
“Your girl is something,” he says, impressed.
Sasuke considers Sakura once more, as she directs a group of villagers to go around picking up discarded plates and cups.
In his mind’s eye, he sees a skinny girl with long pink locks, hands on her hips and lecturing him or Naruto or Kakashi for some misbehaviour or other. In a blink it’s replaced with the brave kunoichi, bruised and battered, caring for him when he was ill, or holding him back from throwing himself into danger.
A girl who wouldn’t give up on a boy filled with darkness, even when he shoved away what she offered, be it a plate of apples or her heart.
It’s not the first time he wonders what he did to deserve her.
But he doesn’t reveal any of this to the worker. Instead, he shrugs and says with complete certainty, “She is.”
終わり
________________________________________________________________
I am trying to figure out how to fit this one into the Legacy of Fire series, but it mostly depends on me writing a completely different fic to allow that to happen, so this can exist in the same series as Miso Soup Everyday and You Are Cordially Invited. So for now it’s not part of the series...
I want to know what you think of my story! Leave kudos, a comment or if writing comments isn’t something you’re comfortable with, as many of these (or other emojis) as you want and let me know how you feel!
❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?
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reylo-trash-4ever · 4 years
Text
The Game: Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2 IS UP!! I really didn’t think I was going to get it up this fast but wow... I guess here it is! Sorry it’s a bit boring, but I promise that after this is where the real fun can begin. ;)
You can find chapter 1 here!!!
---
Rey stood, completely stunned in the crushing weight of the silence surrounding her. She tried to wrap her head around what had just happened not seconds ago with the man from the coffee shop. So many questions crashed around her head, making it difficult to settle on just one to find an answer to. Who was that man and why was he here? On what grounds was he allowed to just walk into her office, onto her case, and mess around with her life the way he just did?
She didn’t know how long she stood there quietly raging, but eventually she cooled off enough to think more clearly. She took a few deep breaths and gathered her belongings. Slamming her laptop shut, she stuffed it into her briefcase and grabbed the cord plugged into the wall. She reached for the baggy of evidence, still somehow mocking her, and her hand hesitated over it. She hated how every time she looked at it, she saw his stupid grin as if he had just ‘won’ a game she didn’t even know she was playing. With a low growl she hastily threw it in with the rest of her things and left the room.
She made her way through the small corridors of the building and was intending to stop at her desk to finish packing up for the day, but she had to pass her bosses office on the way there. As her heels clicked on the tile floors, she heard her name being called out.
“Rey, I’m glad you’re still around! Would you mind coming in here for a second, please?”
The voice of Amilyn Holdo, one of the most revered lawyers in the company, made Rey stop in her tracks. She turned to see the tall, slender woman standing in the doorway of her office, holding it open only just enough so that Rey could see just the outline of her figure and nothing behind.
“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” Amilyn laughed, obviously reading the frightened look she must of had on her face, “I would just like to go over a few of the changes coming your way, is all.”
Rey’s worry turned to excitement, and suddenly she forgot about everything that had just transpired. Weird asshole who? This was finally the chance she had been waiting for. She knew Amilyn loved her and her work, and they were choosing the next Jr. Partners in the new year. It did seem a little early to be picking, but she didn’t question it.
“Would you follow me, please?”
Rey did as she was asked, trailing close behind Amilyn’s heels. She slipped through the doorway and briefly took in her surroundings. It was a simple, but elegant space. There were huge, floor to ceiling shelves filled with books lining the entirety of one wall. Amilyn’s desk was in front of that, a large computer to one side and a big, comfy looking black chair to bring the whole aesthetic together. There were windows on the opposite wall that overlooked the city, giving her comfort as she looked out at the twinkling view she loved.
Rey took a seat at one of the two chairs opposite here bosses desk. They were cushy and soft, just as she suspected. Amilyn had always had a ‘mothering’ feel about her, but she was also one of the toughest and most senior of lawyers in the state. She was almost world renown, and Rey felt blessed by every second she got to spend with her. She always learned so much from the teachings of the lilac haired, older woman.
“So, Rey,” Amilyn said, her voice soft, yet commanding all attention, “I’ve been watching you these past few days, and I have to say, I like what I’ve been seeing.” Rey felt her cheeks heat up. She was never very good with compliments, they made her rather uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help but feel a little proud as her boss continued, “You have incredible potential, and quite honestly, I see a lot of myself in you.”
Rey’s heart was soaring. To be put on the same level as Amilyn in anyway was one of the highest compliments anyone could have given her.
“Which is why I’m also a little bit concerned.”
The words took her off guard, and Rey regrettably let her feelings show on her face. She scrunched it up in confusion and gave Amilyn a curious look.
“You remind me so much of myself at your age, and I used to screw up so many times that it would often cost me prestigious cases, wealthy clients, and sometimes even my job.”
Now Rey was entirely dumbstruck. Not Amilyn! Surely she was too incredible, too perfect to be at fault. Those problems she had must have been because of someone else or some outside force.
“I just don’t want you making the same mistakes I did. You work yourself to death, Rey. You’re here literally all the time, you devote all your resources to your cases, and you pour your blood, sweat, and tears into this company.”
“Excuse me for saying so, but I’m not seeing where the problem is,” Rey spoke up for the first time since coming into the now intimidatingly large office. She had never felt so small as she softly continued, “Usually, that kind of dedication is a good thing.”
“And don’t get me wrong, it is good... for the most part.” Amilyn stood and began to collect a few papers scattered across her desk, “but the part that keeps you too focused on one thing, too exhausted mentally and physically to see any other side of the story, is what’s going to cost you. My biggest problem when I first started out was that I was too stubborn to admit when I needed help.”
Rey felt like it was a direct stab and she fought the urge to cringe. Instead, she looked to the floor so her senior wouldn’t see the disappointment and frustration in her eyes. Hadn’t Rose said almost the exact same thing earlier that day?
“It’s because of my worry for you Rey, that I’ve decided on assigning you the Terrio case.” Amalyn continued, making Rey snap her head back up, her gaze now wide and even more confused. The Terrio case was infamous in the office for being the most sought after case in the last month. It was full of potential clients, was high risk with high reward, and incredibly tantalizing for any good lawyer to get their hands on. One of those cases where you really get down to the nitty gritty and could completely absorb you in its drama and intrigue. Why was Amilyn offering such a big opportunity to her, someone who wasn’t even a partner, let alone jr. partner, yet?
“But obviously, this is way too big of a case for one person to handle alone.” Ah, there it was. Amilyn moved to the front of the desk, placing her hands behind her. She leaned back on her palms as she stared at Rey. “Which is why I’ve decided that you’ll be working with one of the most distinguished and highly sought after lawyers in our entire company.”
Rey’s head reeled. This was too good to be true! An opportunity to work on an incredible case, to get real experience with clients, and to work alongside a well established lawyer and have them pass their knowledge onto her? It seemed like a dream.
“I’ll be assigning you your partner first thing tomorrow morning when you come in. Would you be able to arrive about fifteen minutes earlier than usual?”
“Of course, ma’am!” Rey said excitedly, jumping up from her seat and almost cutting her off before Amilyn could even finish her sentence. Her eyebrows rose on her forehead and she gave Rey a big, knowing smile.
“If you don’t have any other questions then, we’ll all go over the details tomorrow. I’m really looking forward to seeing the way this plays out. I hope you know I have high expectations.”
“Thank you so much for this opportunity,” Rey said, fighting the urge to bow, or grab Amilyn’s hand and shake it, or do something else entirely embarrassing. Amilyn smiled and nodded her head, a silent indicator that they were finished. Rey returned the smile with a big toothy one of her own before turning on her heels and practically skipping out the door.
***
“I can’t even begin to describe to you how excited I am!” Rey yelled from across the apartment kitchen towards the living room where her two roommates sat on the couch, “she practically told me I was getting jr. partner, or at least that’s what it seems like she’s preparing me for. And I get to learn from one of the other big shot lawyers! I wonder if it’ll be Skywalker or even Organa… god that would be incredible. They’re supposed to be the best in the state. I’m just so pumped!”
“We know Rey,” the melodic, raspy voice of her best friend, Finn, called back to her, “it’s all you’ve talked about since you came back an hour ago.”
“Came back rather late, mind you,” Poe chimed in, reaching for the bowl of popcorn between him and Finn’s lap and grabbing a handful, which he quickly stuffed in his mouth. Only about half of the kernels actually made it in, promoting Finn to give him a slightly disgusted, but amused look. Poe looked back, but just shrugged his shoulders in response.
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry.” Rey walked into the living room with a fresh bowl of popcorn and joined the two on the cough, sitting next to Finn. “I just feel like everything is falling into place, you know?”
“And we couldn't be happier for you, Rey. It’s just quite an attitude shift from when we were texting earlier this evening and I, for one, am confused.” Finn turned to her, his dark eyes full of concern and worry. Rey always thought that her roommates were like two worried and strangely caring dads, and she loved them for it. Sometimes, it seemed to fill the hole of not really ever having even one.
“You mean the weird encounter with the mystery douche?” Rey could practically read their minds, but she also remembered furiously texting Poe about the weird happenings before being called into Amilyn’s office and going radio silent.
“We thought you got drugged and kidnapped by the creep, or something!” Poe said, reaching again for the last kernels in their shared bowl, but Finn caught him and swiftly smacked his hand away. Poe winced and shook out his wrist, giving Finn a puffy lipped pout, which he ignored completely.
“I’m sorry again, but I was a little distracted with-”
“The exciting news, we know.” Finn interrupted before finishing off the bowl of popcorn.
“It was awfully annoying though,” Rey said, replaying the memory. She tried to brush it off with a shiver, but his glinting black gaze was burned in there for good.
“So what actually happened?” Poe asked, muting the tv, which made Finn click his tongue in annoyance.
Rey told them the story as best she could remember it and they intently listened without a word, aside from the occasional gasps from Poe or“oh no he didn’t!”s from Finn.
“Honestly,” Rey said, sighing as she came to the end of the story, “I think it was just a crazy coincidence. It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with someone’s random family member, or another lawyer from a different branch. He could have even been a client who was being obnoxiously nosey or something along those lines.”
“Wouldn’t that be kind of, like, illegal?” Finn asked and Rey shrugged her shoulders.
“Still, what are the chances that he’s the same rude guy from the coffee shop this morning?”
Finn’s eyes went wide and he nodded along with Poe’s question.
“If he was here on business or from another firm, it could make sense. But out of all of the coffee shops and he picks hers? That is some weird juju shit going on,” Finn scratched his chin and it was Poe’s turn to nod knowingly.
Rey rolled her eyes at her dramatic roommates and grabbed her own handful of popcorn. “Honestly? I’m not concerned with it anymore,” she said, “whoever he is, he’s a thing of the past now. I have wonderful things ahead of me, and I’m sure as hell not going to let the sour attitude of one idiot man ruin this for me.” Rey followed Poe’s example and stuffed her fistful of popcorn into her mouth. Finn signed again and Poe just laughed.
“That’s our girl!” He chuckled, reaching across Finn to give her a hearty, but light punch on the shoulder. She smiled back at him as Finn grabbed the remote from Poe’s hands and resumed their television show.
***
The next morning was colder than the one before, but Rey made sure to dress up as best she could without sacrificing her warmth. She wasn’t one to wear dresses, but today she chose a white, knee length pencil skirt with sheer, tan tights and heels to match. She wore a light blue loose, cotton button up and her favorite white suit jacket to pull the whole outfit together. Her friends in college used to tell her to dress with confidence as if she were the CEO and one day she might become just that.
She sure needed the boost as she once again headed off to business she had grown to know so well. All of her excitement from last night had turned into nerves and jitters this morning. What if she made a fool of herself on this case and disappointed everyone? What if she disappointed Amilyn?
Rey didn’t know which as worse; failing the company and her boss, or failing herself. Either way, she knew she had to be better than she ever was before and really impress this mystery partner she would be working with. They would be her senior, so they would be naturally taking point on the case. She’d have to do her best to listen, but also to assert her own ideas when necessary. It would be an interesting game, going back and forth with someone she knew nothing about. Hopefully, they would like her and she was thankful for the chance of a good first impression.
As the elevator door slid shut and she made her ascent towards her future, she remembered the last tip that Poe had given her in his sleepy haze with their breakfast earlier that day. “Never forget the power of a red lip”. She dug into her purse and pulled out her favorite, cherry red lipstick and quickly slid it over her mouth.
There elevator chimed when she reached the top and the doors opened to reveal the office in a bit more of a quieter environment than usual. Arriving just a few moments earlier than everyone else really did make a difference.
“Rey? Is that you?” Amilyn’s voice called from her office and Rey turned to look over at her.
“Good morning!” She called back, stepping into the entryway and relishing in the way her heels clicked on the tile floors. It made her feel so professional and powerful.
“Yes, good morning,” Amilyn returned the greeting and smiled warmly at her, “We're in here already, if you’d like to come in as soon as you’re ready.”
“Perfect, thank you. I’ll be right in,” Rey nodded at Amilyn as she went to drop her bags at her desk and began removing her coat quickly. Amilyn disappeared behind the door, leaving it open only by a crack. Rey could see the tall woman’s mouth moving as she was speaking to someone in the room, but the door wasn’t open wide enough for her to see inside.
Rey got settled with her belongings and took one last look at herself in her desktop computer screen. She rubbed her lips together and popped them a few times, trying to settle the fresh lipstick. She sighed and silently gave herself a pep talk with each step towards Amilyn’s office.
She hesitated at the door for only one second before reaching out to push it in.
The familiar scent of plant life and some woodsy smelling candle filled her nostrils and she felt a smile creeping across her face as she stepped into the doorway, but it was instantly stopped the moment she looked up.
For standing across Amilyn’s desk and a few feet from her, stood none other than the impossibly large, dark haired man from the evening before. His head turned towards her the minute she walked into the room and for one second their eyes met. There was a pause as the two of them recognized each other instantly and the world seemed to stop as they stood there, each silently making their own assessments of the situation. Rey thought she saw something quickly flash in his gaze - possibly shock, or maybe even anger? - before his eyes turned dull and a half smirk crawled up one side of his face.
“Well... We meet again.”
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A Father’s Duty
Read Chapter 1+ on Ao3
: To Coruscant                 
Your small feet moved slowly, driven by the mere will to find somewhere to rest. Though your bag weighed heavily on your back, you simply could not afford to cast it away. Containing, rations, a medical kit, and your wares, it was invaluable. Your water had run out two days ago, leaving you light headed and weak, yet the lack of hydration had ignited something feral making survival more than likely.
Exhaustion led you to a damp alley, slick with grime and oil dropping from the speeders above. Slumping against a wall, you gazed up at the sky above the blinding light of Coruscant rendered the true nature of night almost invisible. Though inconvenient, it was still welcome, with your current state any surprises had the upper hand. At the present moment, everything seemed to be safe, your only company in the homely alley being dumpsters with their contents strewn about and a drunk and a drunk Toong babbling to themself. After taking a few moments to observe and evaluate how incapacitated they were, you decided the risk was low. Traipsing over, the Toong barely moved as you rummaged through their clothing only to find a few Imperial credits. It was certainly not much but was enough for a day.
With the money stowed in your pocket, you broke out a ration bar this would hold you over until tomorrow so you could use what you found for maybe a couple more and something to drink. The surge of calories gave you the energy to make your way up from one of the bottom levels; you could even see the tops of some of the tallest buildings, some still bearing the faint signs of the old government. Being late in the evening, not many welcoming establishments were open, though no bar or club would let you in; your stature was far too small and you dared not speak lest it give you away. You had lost your focus for a moment until your eyes landed on the glowing lights of a small diner. It seemed friendly enough, no one inside was visibly armed, and there was even a small family by the front window. Entering, you decided your decision had been safe, no one cared about your presence except the waitress at the counter who tried to take your order.
“What can I get for you?”
You remained silent, motioning for a menu which the waitress droid handed you. Pointing out what you wanted, it took note and soon returned with root leaf stew, some tea, and water, all of which you slipped into your own containers. Placing all the credits you had taken on the table, only the waitress watched you leave. It cleaned up what little mess you made, though coming across something strange, the droid cocked its head to the side picking up something little and shining.
“Whatcha got there?” A voice asked from behind.
The droid turned, “I am not sure.” Handing the object over it continued, though I am sure you know, Dex.“
The Besalisk examined the item in his hand, a knot forming in his throat. He certainly knew what it was. Kyber. Only two small shards, but still Kyber. Not raw, it was colored. Under old circumstances, he wouldn’t have hesitated to call upon his old friend. Though his whereabouts were unknown and he had presumed dead.
This was not any of his business, only a risk to his own livelihood. Though the Empire had been toppled, scavengers, bounty hunters and criminals alike would be dying to get a hold of refined kyber, and with his age, Dex was in no shape to take on anything other than daily business. Walking out the back, he threw the crystal into the trash. Reopening was hard enough without anything force related involved.
*****
After eating your fill, you fixed your mask securely around your head. Getting into a cheap hotel free of charge had been easy enough, all you had to do was start a fight, slip away and unlock one of the room doors. No one would notice, and if they did you had barricaded the door and could escape from the back.
Laying on the creaking bed, you could feel every bruise that littered your body. Once again your hopes had been too high. He had seemed like a secure buyer, at least for one transaction. Though, you had vastly underestimated the experience and tenacity of the man. He had gone by an obviously false name but one of his accomplices had called him Beilert. At least you knew who to avoid and who to eventually research one you had resources.
In your escape he had given you quite the beating, casting him away, you barely made it past his goons. It was completely frustrating, at some moments you felt as though the power of the whole galaxy coursed through your veins! And in others, you felt as you were. Just a kid trying to live in a time unsure of its course.
Beilert would surely try to track and follow you now he knew you carried and sourced kyber. The mere thought made your head spin. Too much to think about. Final allowing yourself to sleep, you held onto your pack tightly, letting the sounds of the city lull you to sleep.
*****
A small coo jarred Dyn from his wandering thoughts. Looking down he saw the child grasping a switch in his tiny hands. He quietly cursed to himself before delicately removing the child from near the control panel. Cara was right, investing in toys would be much better than having important buttons A sharp beeping noise alerted him to a message. Greef, probably with an offer. Though he now had his son to look after and subsequently train so any work would have to be specific. With the press of a button, Greef’s figure flared to life on the comm."
Mando! I hope you and your baby are doing well. I have a client who is seeking you out specifically for a little job. Nothing too serious, just bringing in one alive. The target shouldn’t give you much trouble. And this guy pays well! Trust me. I know him. I’ll send you the details.”
Greef had sent the information, though there was little to go off of. It was a track down and bring in job. The client had neglected to share his name, though that was hardly necessary. The visual of the target was certainly lacking. No picture or hologram, only a brief description. A small being, no taller than an average human child, covered in a tattered cloak. That could be any of billions in the entire galaxy. But the one defining feature was the mask. Dyn memorized the details easily. This would be simple. All he had to do was reach the last known location on Coruscant, and luckily, the target had already been weakened.
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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years
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Sloth: Time Well Wasted - Anders Harris x Reader (The Land of Steady Habits)
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GIF Credit: @mendo-r​ X Author’s Note: As requested by @3134045126…❤ And I thought I wrote Martin as a softie with the patience of a Saint… He got nothing on this man. Geez! I gotta get me some of this love. As soon as I saw the request I knew that I could immediately jump into this song. Which is nice, because Time Well Wasted is also my favourite Brad Paisley album...
Disclaimer: Anders, perfect human though he is, is not my creation.... *siiighs* And whilst we’re on that one neither is Preston, and he’s ALSO such a cutie... AND seen as it’s a request, the idea isn’t even mine, just the writing! 😉
Premise (As Requested):  Reader could be really stressed out lately, because they have "so much" to do and they just can't seem to find the time to do it all. Turns out most of the stuff they're stressing out over is pretty inconsequential. So in an effort to help them relax and to spend some quality time with them, because it's been a while, Anders eventually convinces Reader to have a lazy day with him.
Words: 4649
Warnings: ...There is just a smidge of sex talk... C’mon it’s a sin. I was gonna do it. / One of those sick makingly cliche cute endings.
I could've been workin' overtime Or at home tryin' to make that truck run right... Those leaves were a foot deep in the yard And 'Wash Me' was written all over the car But watchin' movies all day with you Wasn't on my list of things to do But we laid on that couch Boy, we never left the house It was time well wasted And there's no way I trade a few more things that I could've crossed off my list For a day I'll never forget No, I didn't get a thing done But I sure soaked up every minute of the memory we were makin' And I count it all as time well wasted This world spins too fast if you'll let it There's always one more thing to do But looking back I have never regretted... Lovin' away a Sunday afternoon...
---
noun
reluctance to work or make an effort; laziness
You couldn't believe your luck. Or... un-luck? You'd been out in town nearly two hours with a bunch of things to do both here and back home, and yet you hadn't been able to cross off even one thing. You were also hating yourself for a bunch of promises you made that you were struggling to keep through no fault of your own. And in this bubble of frustration, stress and self-loathing you also weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. Until he reached out and grabbed your hand "---!!!?" "Y/N! Geez, are you okay? You look really..." Anders hesitated at the look on your face, "...OK, what's wrong? C'mere..." He enveloped you in a hug, and for 5 seconds you actually forgot what you were stressing so much about. Then you remembered you were in the middle of town, and not at home with him. In fact he just added to your stress, because then you were trying to remember exactly when the last time you had actually done something with him was...
"OH! GOD! I'm--!!!" You pressed your hands to your eyes and cried out in frustration. He let you. Of course he just let you, Anders was probably the easiest going man you'd ever dated. "...I'm so sorry... I just..." You rooted through your pocket for your list, "I don't even know anymore. But I've got all this stuff to do in town, my house is a mess, my yard, my car - oh God, and I was gonna help Preston with---!! Man I just, it's not working out and I just hate myself for it because... I promised him I'd-" Anders finally had to hold his hands up, because your ever-changing tracks of thought only served to confuse him. "Baby, Stop! STOP!!! Listen to yourself!!!" He took your list gently from you and unfolded it "...Do you really have to do all this right now? You sound far too stressed to concentrate on any one thing..." He was probably right, but still; "Yeah! When else am I supposed to do it!?!" "...There are 7 days in a week, y'know." "I've gotta work!" "Oh, uh huh - because your 20-minute commute is such a chore." He was teasing you, but right now it wasn't helping. "Well, what with deadlines, I've got all kinds of overtime I've gotta work - or God knows what my team is gonna do - I don't think they can do it alone..." He sighed, knowing nothing he said was going to help you. He pushed your list against your forehead; "Babe. I was kidding. Will you please give your brain 5 minutes?? Let me do this." You didn't understand how that was going to help anything, but before you opened your mouth, he pressed a finger to your lips "...UH! That wasn't even 5 seconds! I can do all this stuff - I'm retired remember? I'll get all this stuff whilst you're at work, just give me your house keys and I can return those to you at work too. See? I am a utilizable resource! And Preston isn't gonna care if it takes you all year! He's in a good place." It wasn't that you didn't appreciate his offer to help, but you didn't want to end up relying on him. And you thought he'd done enough, especially if he used to work in finance. You kinda liked that he was retired; your work schedule could be all over the place sometimes, which meant he would still be able to see you literally any time you were free. Only, again, you reminded yourself you hadn't made time for him in maybe 2 or 3 weeks. And that meant you certainly didn't want him doing things for you, if you couldn't even make 5 minutes for him... Geez, that only made you feel more terrible. And you could read on his face that his line about Preston was unconvincing at best. He removed his finger from your lips thinking that you'd probably not argue; then had to promptly regret it and roll his eyes as you started again, "Anders, I can't let you do that! I gotta do this-! I mean when was the last time we actually did anything-!? I'm such a terrible girlfriend, my god! I just-! No, I gotta do this and today!! Because tomorrow I've got to do a bunch of admin and finance..." Your eyes suddenly went wide at the prospect, you weren't good a math. You HATED math, of any kind. He folded his arms "Well, you see. All I heard there was an excellent point." "Huh!?" "...We haven't done anything in a while. I want to do this. So… How about we do something today, and then I can do this for you? Also, what are you worried about anything financial for..." He indicated to himself "Hello...! You are literally dating the perfect man. I got you on that too, then whatever you gotta do at home... or with your car, do tomorrow and I've got your admin covered. Cuz if I don’t make that promise you're just gonna stress even more." You kinda thought he was perfect for other reasons, but he was also right. He could help there too, but you shook your head "No, no! I don't deserve you doing that for me even... I just-!" "Hey-! Hey-! You got this all wrong, it wasn't a choice." He took your hand in his "If there's one thing I know I can do it’s get rid of that stress... And don't you dare protest, let me do this for you!"
 So, begrudgingly you didn't - as he pulled you gently to his car. "Wait, where are we going?" "Home… Well, my place... home... Yeah." He smiled, "What you need most right now is to do nothing... And the last place you need to be is anywhere that will stress you out. So, you can come do nothing with me, at my place. I gotta look after you; what kind of man would I be if I didn't?" He made you smile... He cared so much, he was like this normally, but you could usually reciprocate. And right now, you couldn't because you couldn't give him anything in return.   But then you started to cry, and it wasn't just because of the stress, but because all he wanted was your time. He didn't want to do anything with you he just wanted your time, and he also wanted to look after you. And as long as you went with him you were giving him that. He took your hand in his again and rubbed your thigh gently, and he didn't ask you not to cry. "...It's okay... Let it all out... just... It's okay..." His voice was gentle too. And for a minute you wondered what exactly you'd ever done to deserve him. *
You'd just about stopped crying by the time he'd driven you to his place, and he let you finish before he turned to you. You were aware you were now a mess, looking down at your now tear stained shirt. Your make-up had probably run everywhere... You didn't dare look. "...Do you want..." He decided it was better not to ask, but to softly tell you; "...Take a shower, freshen up, get comfortable... I'll get set up, okay?" You just nodded meekly and he handed his house keys to you "Go on..." By the time you were in the shower you'd heard the front door open and close again, and his car leave the driveway... What exactly did he have planned? This was the interesting thing about Anders, because it could be literally anything. Just when you thought you had him figured out, he'd surprise you with something else... The shower allowed you to breathe. Standing under the water and trying to clear your head and look at the positives. Anders must have at least been positive 1-10 right now. You wandered into his bedroom and were greeted with a glass of water and a note on his bedside table. "Crying is exhausting... re-hydrate! :)" You smiled, and sipped the glass slowly, opening his wardrobe. That's what he meant by get comfortable, right? Well... Even if he didn't... Anders always wore things that made you want to cuddle him, and a lot of times on dates you actually got annoyed that there was a table between you. And he knew that, which allowed him to tease you about it; constantly. But it was hard to think of a time when you wouldn't be seen with your arms wound tightly around him... Sometimes you felt he needed that as much as you did... His car was back in the driveway so you knew he was home again as you made your way back down stairs. He was standing in the kitchen; pile of movies, 12 pack of beer, takeout menus. He looked up as you entered and laughed, "Yeah ok I guess that constitutes getting comfortable..." He indicated to the selection "Pick a film, we'll order whatever you want... I'm gonna make you dinner, but THAT is a surprise." You leant on the counter and smiled, he’d put together a selection of your favourite movies. And how could you possibly choose just one? You reordered them and looked to all the takeout menus. Then back to the beer – with a tiny smirk. You pushed one towards him. “I’m pretty sure we have time for more than one movie…” “Oh…” He took the leaflet and crossed to the phone, “A movie and pizza date? Girl, I like the way you think.” You gave a soft wink and took the movies into the lounge to queue the first one up “I know-!” “---You don’t want to tell me what you want!?!” “You know me well enough--! This was your idea!”
You were sat with your legs crossed on the couch watching him. Not the movie. But him. You ate about as slow as possible and sipped your beer, leaning on your hand. He was at least a little absorbed in what was going on on TV by the fact he hadn’t yet noticed that you weren’t watching. Every so often he’d react to something in a scene and it just made you smile more. You knew nearly every single movie off by heart, so you knew you weren’t missing out on much. But, you’d sure be missing this if you were paying attention. “…What did I do to deserve you?” You didn’t know how it slipped out but it did, and it wasn’t a murmur because he turned to you; “What?” Suddenly you blushed, and looked to your legs “I…I just… I don’t…” He furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion “…Are you not even watching this?!” You shook your head “I guess I’m watching you…” That just made him giggle “Me!?” He slid across the couch to you and tilted your chin up to meet his eyes again; “…Now c’mon, really, what is so interesting about me?” A small smile crossed your face and you took his hand delicately in yours “…That you love me, the way you love me…” You tilted your head, knowing you were about to gush over him if you weren’t careful “…I just… I’m SO in love.” That just made him laugh shyly again; “…Clearly love is blind, and you can’t handle more than a few sips of beer.” “Shut up!!” You gripped his hand tighter “You’re doing this for ME!! Anders that’s---! You’re incredible.” He shook his head, still laughing; “No. This is what any good boyfriend should be doing. Now c’mere, I’M supposed to be the sappy one… What is wrong with you…!?” He pulled you closer to him and stretched out across the couch, “Now, hush and watch the movie…” “Ok…” You sighed contently as he lay back, allowing you to tangle your legs with his and lay your head on his chest. He crossed his arms over your back and shifted his body to help keep you comfortable.  Every so often he would rub gentle circles into your lower back – and you could feel yourself truly begin to unwind just lying here in his arms. You could hear his heart beating; calm, steady, relaxing. It made you snuggle further into him; who were you kidding though? Anders and his clothes were made for snuggling, that’s exactly why you were wearing one of his jumpers for yourself. He was always so warm, and his personality reflected that… He ran a hand tenderly through your hair and you hummed gently in contentment, making him smile. You felt more relaxed, which is what he wanted. This was ideal. It wasn’t just what you needed, but exactly what he wanted… * You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you noticed was the film was back at the menu screen. Your eyes flicked to the clock. It had also probably been stuck on the screen for a long ass time. You were surprised the TV hadn’t gone into standby mode… You weren’t about to move now, though. You closed your eyes again with a smile and allowed yourself to be carried back into dreams by the rhythm of his breathing…. The next time you woke up you were greeted by some kind of cookery programme. Making you raise an eyebrow – What? You shifted from your curled-up position on his chest and stretched gently. Anders still had one arm draped around you, and the other lazily behind his head. He was concentrating very hard on the screen. “…What… are they making?!” “NO!” He moved his hand to cover your eyes “SPOILERS!” “…OH my god!!” You laughed “…What are YOU going to make!” “You’re supposed to still be asleep!!!” He laughed, pausing the programme “No!! Tell me you didn’t watch any of that?!” “I have no idea what was just going on. I’ve just woken up…!” You giggled and removed his hand from your face rolling onto your stomach to look at him; “Besides, like I said I’d rather watch you…” He shook his head, but he was still smiling. “Whatever…” He touched his nose to yours gently “How are you feeling?” “…Better. Thank you.” He kissed you softly, “See now, that’s all I wanna hear…” That just made you giggle and kiss him again. “Okay… Well… I think that’s all you’re gonna hear for the rest of the day…” Anders made a satisfied humming noise before kissing you again, and there was only one way that was going to turn out. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gradually deepened the kiss as he pulled your body even closer to his if that was possible. Sighing lightly against your kiss as you ran your hands into his hair. Not only was he great at snuggling with, he was always a great kisser too. Who were you really kidding!? He was just great at everything you needed. Anders was everything you needed to be with at this stage in your life, and if you were honest with yourself, he’d probably not come into your life early enough. But he was here now…  And you were supposed to make the most of every moment like this you had. You almost laughed into the kiss; that list and all your problems seemed really dumb right now… Suddenly, from nowhere, your stomach rumbled. And you weren’t even hungry – or were you? It was loud enough to make Anders break the kiss with a chuckle; “AH-! Okay! It’s certainly time to make dinner then!” He sat you up, but you pouted; “Awww..! Already!?” “Come help me out then...” He kissed the tip of your nose gently and slid you off his lap before standing; “Come on, it’ll be fun!” “I dunno…” You looked at him teasingly “Cooking sounds stressful…” “Uh – quite the opposite!” He held his hand out “C’mon! It’ll be fun – I promise! Then I can show you what I’ve been learning in class…!” “You got this from class?” Your eyes flicked curiously to the TV “Yeah-! That’s all… Will you just come with me!?” You smiled and took his hand; “If you insist---!” He handed you another beer and you set about measuring ingredients and listening to every little thing he said. Whilst also sliding in a joke about how it was meant to be cooking with wine and not beer. And Anders being quick witted enough to tell you it would depend on what you were making. As it was, there was no alcohol involved in the dish itself. It sounded fantastically complicated, but Anders guided you through it as best he could. Until it did get complicated and you had to duck out – now sitting on his kitchen counter, lazily swinging your legs and drinking beer but still watching him. And he still gave you a running commentary of what he was doing. “So it’s pasta?” “No--!” He nudged your arm gently “Don’t dismiss it like that.” “Well, we just made pasta from scratch right.” “Well yeah, but…” Anders shook his head at you “It’s not JUST pasta.” “…Did we go overboard on Italian today then or..?” He gave a shrug and crossed to his sound system “…That’s not a bad thing…” He turned it on and the room was suddenly filled with music, you couldn’t help but smirk. You knew this playlist; “This is not that dumb thing Preston and I put together is it?!” “Yeaaaahhhh…!” He grinned over at you “I like it!” “OH! It’s so dumb!!!” You covered your face. “SO DUMB!!” Of course Anders would like it though – Preston and yourself connected on music as much as you argued over it. And you’d both vowed that one could make a better playlist than the other. When what you realised you’d done was make a similar set of songs, Anders had taken that and mashed it together. Declaring that it was now a playlist made of the best music by his two favourite people. “Does that matter? You guys put it together…!” He smiled and came back to his cooking; “This really doesn’t scream romantic dinner date to me…” “Who said anything about a romantic dinner date…?” He gave a knowing smile “I didn’t say that, I just said I was making dinner… Half of this is your favourite songs anyway. So, you gotta find it good or relaxing right?” “You did NOT put this on for me.” He smiled; “You made it. So yeah, I did.” He leant over to kiss your cheek gently “Besides-! I don’t see what you’re complaining about it’s great!” “--!!!” You laughed, jogging his shoulder “No YOU think it’s great!” He opened his mouth to counteract your argument when the doorbell rang. You folded your arms for a second; well this was a pretty uncivilized hour--! Anders turned his attention back to his cooking; “Would you get that for me please, darling?” You raised an eyebrow, was he serious?!, it was dinner time! When he didn’t look back to you you assumed he was and slid off the counter walking to the front door. “PRESTON-!! OH MY GOD!” He gave you a massive grin and a warm hug “Hey Y/N! I hear dinner’s on dad tonight!” You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly it clicked, you looked back to the kitchen and then to him; “Did he invite you!?” “Well, yeah…!” He laughed “He also said you were super stressed out and needed cheering up, so I brought you something…!” “...WHAT!?” For one, you couldn’t believe Anders would tell his son that. However, it was also sweet that he had invited Preston over because you two got on like a house on fire. But also, it was incredibly kind of Preston to do anything for you when the stress was pretty self-induced. He held out a CD “Here. Some good music to destress to-” Then he stopped and listened “OH-! GOD! Has Dad put on that god-awful playlist we made!?” You laughed at the look on his face, “Oh yeah.” But took the CD with thanks. You could imagine what was on it. It probably wasn’t relaxing in the slightest, but you knew it would make you laugh. “DAD WHY---!” Anders laughed from the kitchen “Because I like it!” Preston rolled his eyes as you let him into the house; “Oh! I also got you a bottle of your favourite, because Gill still gives me staff discount, happy days!” You shook your head “You’ve just ruined that one then haven’t you.” “Uh-! C’mon! Is it not the thought that counts- DAD! Can we turn this off!?” “NO!” Preston turned back to you with a shake of his head, making you laugh. You had a lot to thank him for, in fact he was basically responsible for the current state of your life. You didn’t think you were ever supposed to meet the father of the 20-something (but basically going on teen with the way he sometimes acted around you) you worked with. But it was the best happy accident that had ever occurred. And you were pretty certain that all three of you might agree on that. “SO what are we making?” “It’s a surprise…” “Oh… I guess I’ll go sit down then…!” Preston walked through into the next room “C’MON-! You guys! Do I have to set the table too--!? I came for dinner as a guest, you know!?” But you heard him laughing and opening draws anyway, allowing you to turn back to his father. “Did you invite him.” “Of course I did… He cares about you too… Besides, I didn’t want you to get bored of me…” You placed your hands on your hips but smiled, “I could never get bored of you. But…” You turned to the doorway Preston had just walked through “That’s sweet of you… Thank you…” “No problem…” He turned the bottle towards him with a whistle “That’s good stuff!” “He’s done well.” “That he has. New music too! Would ya look at that-!” “YEAH-! Please don’t have sex to that CD, I don’t think I can take that thought.” Preston called from the back room. “Damn-! Well there goes my evening plans!” “Oh my GOD you two!!” You covered your face with your hands and felt yourself go red, but both of them were howling with laugher, which was contagious. You knew why you got on with them so well, because essentially - whether he wanted to hear it or not, Preston was almost a carbon copy of his father. * You sat at dinner watching them both talking, at how animated they got – how they both laughed at each other’s stupid jokes, would light up at great ideas and how they’d encourage you to join in. They were just so darn similar… It was something truly beautiful to behold. You laughed until your stomach, sides, and face ached. And still they gave you exactly the same look and were convinced that you weren’t cheered up enough yet. Eventually you had to basically beg them to stop with tears in your eyes; “OH-! NO! She’s CRYING!!” “STOP IT---!” You could barely manage real words between laughs. You couldn’t thank them both enough though; all your stress from this morning had melted away. You accepted to yourself that Anders was going to help you, and when you confessed to Preston you hadn’t yet got anywhere with the project he so desperately wanted to work on he gave a shrug and brushed it off – because he knew you’d get around to it eventually. * “See you guys soon – yeah!? Well, Y/N I guess I’ll see you at work!” “See ya, Preston!” You and Anders waved him off from the front porch as he opened his car door; “AND I WAS SERIOUS ABOUT THAT PLAYLIST…!!” Making you both chuckle as he waved enthusiastically, pulling off from the drive way. “…Well. I figured I just completely saved your day.” Anders folded his arms triumphantly “Saved my day?” You turned to him with a gentle sparkle in your eyes “Saved me. Baby, you saved me.” “Aw, now c’mon…” He looked a little bashful “…You didn’t need savin’… Just… Cheering up…” He held his fingers apart an inch “And then even… just a little.” “Will you stop.” You wound your arms around his waist “…you saved me.” “…Alright…” He hushed his voice “…I’ll take the credit you’re so eager to give me…” He tipped his head towards the stairs “Now, about that evening…” You gave a gentle shrug, “I’m alright with just… cuddling… If you-” “Done.” He removed your arms from around him and swept you up, causing you to giggle as he carried you upstairs.
You continued giggling as he tipped you gently down on the bed, then took a step back and placed his hands on his hips to admire you for just a second. The way you were still laughing… that, compared to how you looked this morning, you’d improved by miles. It choked him up even just a little that he’d helped be the cause of that. You propped yourself up on your elbow, still grinning “Are you joining me or what?!” “Yeah... I just...” His smile grew “I’m just admiring my handiwork!” You looked at him quizzically, then caught on “Oh-! Yeah. Well. You know me I’m a hot mess when I get stressed...” Anders tipped his head “Well. You’re certainly hot.” He sat, looking amused at the way your face was clearly asking him to shut up “I agree, you can be a mess... But you’re MY hot mess.” He lay next to you and pulled you closer to him; taking one of your hands in his. “Tell me you do actually feel better.” “I do.” “Okay. And tell me you won’t stress over finance tomorrow? I gotcha covered. It’s as good as DONE. Alright?” “I know.” And you did. He might have wanted to get out of finance, but when you couldn’t number crunch Anders was only too happy to help you out. “Good...” Hand still in his he touched his index finger to the tip of your nose again, making you relapse into giggles “... So you’re also not gonna stress about this list... yeah? When you’re back in work on Tuesday I’ll be only too happy to wander around town for you... and don’t THINK for one second I won’t be checking in with Preston to make sure you’re not stressing.” “Anders!” You smiled “I KNOW...!” “Well. I’m making sure, and you didn’t promise!” “I promise..!! Just don’t come up with any of your good decorating ideas again...! Please..!” “I thought you LIKED my decorating!” “... oh-! Did I say that??! Did I ever...?!” He laughed “Alright I get it...!!!” He let your hand go so you could pull yourself close and snuggle back into his chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around you protectively. “The last thing I want is any more stress... ok?” “Okay...” You lay there for a few minutes, him stroking a hand through your hair, both preoccupied with your own thoughts. But true to your word you weren’t stressing about any of it.   Eventually you yawned; “aha-! Yeah I guess it’s pretty late...!” He looked across to the clock “...but we don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow but yours? Right?” “Mmm hmm...” his voice faded in and out as you cuddled closer to him, you were already drifting off.  Anders turned the alarm off and turned back to you. He could quite happily do this all day, every day, for the rest of his life. He smiled to himself and kissed your forehead gently. “I love ya, y/n...” You smiled “...Anders, I love you too.”
 --- Oh god that’s too sappy THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! 😘😘 Guarantee you can see our Anders is the same man. I TOLD you!! I’m all here for the Harris Boys’ Team Work!
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Uh. Yes I had to. They are so cute.
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whispering-windows · 6 years
Text
Darkness in Disguise ; {2}
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Note; wHOOP WHOop second chapter! YALL I FINISHED MY EXAMS SO I CAN FINALLY W R I T E ITS A MIRACLE GUYS A BITCH FREE! I hope you enjoy it I feel like I wrote too much for just one chapter idk. Also, idk what the edit above is, it was meant to be a moodboard but it just kinda turned into something else lmao I had fun making it tho. 
Pairing; Rk900 x reader
Word Count; 3400k 
Warnings; swearing (a lot), but I don’t there's anything else?
[Days later]  
// 16th of November, Tuesday; 10:00 AM //
The snow drifted in a downward trajectory, sprinkling the windscreens of cars, forcing itself into the crevices of shop fronts and mounting against the pavements; a gentle reminder of the equally as cold and brazen commands that had been executed in Detroit, imprinting darkly on its history. Fingers curled around the metallic handle of the door, the dragging motion in which followed was swift and effortless, presenting the area hidden within. The automated system governing his movements took over, as he found himself walking inside the building.
Surprisingly, the steady ticking of the digital clock was the first thing he noticed. Its systematic song a reminder of the obsession humans had with time; a reminder of their impermanence and the seconds, minutes, hours, even days, they’ll never get to relive. Yet, what was a disturbing human thought, their reality, to an android?
Next, were the masses of people within the department’s waiting room. It seemed busier than what he assumed a typical police station looked like, and the hurried bodies scuttling in and out of the door only heightened his assumption. Shoulders, whether intentional or not, (he knew how turbulent and volatile the relationship between machines and humans were), barged into his own form, forcing him to sidestep. As hands moved to readjust his jacket, an ingrained habit, the hushed whispers shared between others piqued his interest; small words such as  ‘deviants,’ ‘revolution,’ ‘Cyberlife,’ were thrown around, and it was clear that the recent insurgency had shaken everyone up. The TV in which had initially blended in with the background was the third thing he noticed, and it only proved the fact further. Bullins covering the latest updates on androids, ‘the android question,’ and the debate about their place among society was broadcast.
“All deviants have allegedly been terminated, the figurehead for the android liberation movement, Markus, has been confirmed as ‘destroyed,’ alongside the androids who assisted in the rebellion’s planning on November 11th — models PL600, PJ500, WR400. While androids themselves are slowly being accepted back into the household, Cyberlie life has suffered significant repercussions; their sales reaching its lowest, since their inception. Despite this, Cyberlife has assured models directly within stores are “deviancy free,” and are, thereby ready to integrate into “home life.” Yet, with recent events, this has understandably been met with apprehension.
“Congress has been quick in its legislative response regarding the uprising and have announced stricter android laws to prevent similar occurrences. The bicameral system, with both the House of Representatives and the Senate strongly voting in favour of the bill, will most likely be implemented later this month; more on that later.”
“Alarmingly, an unidentified android, who has been sighted numerous times with the deviant leader and his inner circle, is yet to be discovered by the authorities.”
The screen transitioned, displaying poor, almost wholly unidentifiable shots of the machine in question, and if it hadn’t been for his enhanced optical units, he would not have been able to run scans. Quickly, the analysis proved itself ineffective as a profound red warning, flashed into view.
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[X]
RK900: ACCESS DENIED;
NO AUTHORISATION;
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Perplexed, he immediately ceased his search, tuning back into the TV for information, seemingly as it was his only resource at that stage. The blond news anchor, Rosanna Cartland, continued.
“Although it is still only early days, and the deactivated machines scattered amongst the outskirts of Detroit are currently being sifted through, authorities have stated that “it is almost certain” the android will be located. Officials have yet to comment on the subject, and, just like Cyberlife when asked about this specific, unknown model, they have remained reticent.”
“This begs the question: what is Cyberlife hiding? Is Cyberlife, the multi-trillion dollar empire, as innocent as we initially thought? Or are there darker forces at play? Corruption; greed; the bribing of executives? Who can we trust, now that technology has proven itself a threat to humanity’s very existence?”
With the woman’s harrowing last words, the report ended, an abundance of advertisements promptly replacing the substance, and the room that had momentarily silenced to hear the news had struck back up again; most noticeably, in fear. The android hesitated for a moment, eyes monitoring the screen longer than usual, only managing to snap out of his processing when deciding it was no longer of importance. The android swiftly turned his attention away from the TV and returned to his objective, moving to approach the front desk. Greeted by a female ST300 model, who was handling the reception, he quickly gained access to the heart of the building. After passing the mandatory security evaluation, he pushed his way past the crowd, and the small, glass automatic doors, with his aim, clearly displayed.
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FIND  LT. REED
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Desks, most of which were void of workers, stretched out across the floor. The disorder had undoubtedly propelled the department into havoc, as stacks upon stacks of files decorated most cubicles. Deviancy had been a nuisance to deal with, the number of reports before the revolt had surpassed that of any other state — Detroit, somehow, being the nucleus, outshone any other major city. Quickly, it had spread like a plague of locusts and thus, the damage it had caused, both directly and indirectly, had reached a boiling point. This buildup of paperwork was the kind that would hold employees back for days on end; there was no escaping that.
Roaming, yet attentive, he scanned the name tags attached to the round corners of the tables, only halting when one particular work surface seized his attention. Bland, beige boxes covered the surface — variety, among the blinding sea of paper — and while most of the contents, he assumed had once decorated its top, had been packed away, the forgotten newspaper clips, remained; hanging from the transparent wall. Bright, bold headlines read:
‘DETROIT POLICE DISMANTLE A NETWORK OF RED ICE DEALERS’
‘DETECTIVE ANDERSON PROMOTED TO RANK OF LIEUTENANT’
‘NEW RECORD SEIZURE OF RED ICE IN DETROIT!’
Grey eyes speedily skimmed through them, coming to the rather natural conclusion that the workspace had once belonged to a ‘Hank Anderson’. His analytical interface had already been conjured, and as he ran the name through the system’s search, a plethora of results manifested, ranging from behavioural reports — mostly negative, after the point of 2036 — to his birth certificate, occupation, and thus, his death.
Anderson, Hank
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Status: Deceased; suicide
Born: 06/08/1985 // Ex-police Lieutenant
Criminal record: None
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Stepping back, he took one last glance at the mess, before redirecting his gaze toward more of the stations. Moments passed before he eventually found the one in which corresponded with his mission. The desk was messy and impersonal, utterly contrary to Hank’s, and judging from the small feline follicles scattered across the counter, and along the chair’s upholstery, the Lieutenant owned a cat. This information alone wasn’t enough to determine definitively the type of person the Lieutenant was, but if his desk space was an indicator, he seemed lazy. Letting the piles, which evidently spanned longer than the timeframe of a few days, to build up, clearly only delving into the theory component when he absolutely had to. However, despite this, there were elements even if they were small, that were commendable. The subtle efforts of professionalism that occasionally cracked through the lax exterior were displayed by the lack of sentimental trinkets.
As if on cue, the quiet tapping of keyboards, the soft hum of the air conditioning and the irregular computer notification, which were directly paralleled with the noise in the department’s waiting room, was interrupted by the harsh slamming of a door. Shifting his gaze ahead, toward the source of the sound, he saw a figure transcend the stairs, muttering curses with hardened eyes and furrowed brows. The man had just exited the centred glass office, of whom he had guessed was Jeffrey Fowler’s, and after a quick analysis, it was clear that the furious man was Lieutenant Gavin Reed. The android waited patiently at his new partner’s desk, watching like a hawk as the troubled man’s eyes transfixed on the floor, lost in thought — practically refusing to look at anything else.
Once the man arrived, still in his own world, he dropped the miscellaneous items he was carrying, onto whatever free space he had left. Gavin, unnerved by the overwhelming sense of being watched, snapped out of his trance and looked toward the direction the sensation was originating from. The glare that had instinctively formed, then morphed into that of shock once he realised the android’s presence, his head rounding to double take.   
“What the fuck? Connor?” He asked, exasperated, looking the android up and down hardly believing his eyes.
“Incorrect, I am its successor, RK900. ‘Connor’ is no longer in function.” The android replied, matter of factly.
The tension was thick, and it was evident by the Lieutenant's clear standoffish body language, that he was uncomfortable. The RK900 model immediately deduced that it was his presence in which exacerbated his dismay.  
“If only the rust bucket could have stayed dead.”  
Sighing, Gavin ran his hands through his hair, turning away from the android. “That means you’re my new partner.”
The words conveyed disbelief, so much so that it was as if someone had told him he had just been demoted. The scoff that left his mouth was in pure repugnance, and it was at the moment the RK900 model knew that his new partner was going to take a lot of patience. Despite this, he fully committed to the task at hand.
// G A V I N ▼ //
“Affirmative. I am here to assist you on homicide investigations and, on the 0.1% chance it hasn’t been quarantined, deviancy cases. This is a precautionary measure Cyberlife has employed to—”
“That asshole didn’t say anything about a fucking android. Fuck!” He growled, ranting more to himself than anything.
Gavin, suddenly reared back around, after grasping the situation, and marched towards his new ‘partner’, straightening his form in an apparent attempt to intimidate. The android remained stationed, stoic and unaffected as Gavin, who was reasonably shorter than the machine, started jabbing him in the chest with his index finger.
It would have been an amusing sight to behold if there had been anyone around to witness it, as Gavin had clearly failed in his aggressive approach.  
“You screw up once, big or small, and you’re through. I don’t care how fucking expensive you unnatural pieces of shits are, I’ll put a fucking bullet in your head. Are we clear?”
// S O F T W A R E  I N S T A B I L I T Y ▲ //
Gavin was met with a vacant nod, and that was enough to convince him, the android sustaining his emotionless front.
“Fucking plastics...”
---------
// 16th of November, Tuesday; 5:00 AM //
Days had passed since you had first stumbled across the old warehouse. Dark, dank and abandoned, you found refuge in the secludedness, almost certain, at least for the meantime, that you were safe. It had been hours since you had last seen outside, finding comfort in the consuming, yet ever-present darkness; the only constant in a rapidly erratic existence. It had been minutes since you had accessed your memory, replaying — no reliving — the annihilation of innocents. Long since had you ripped the guards uniform from your shaking body, the blue blood well-soaked into the material; contrasting colours clashing. Although the remnants should have evaporated, it remained; your optics still able to trace the residuum — a continual, consecutive reminder of hatred and loss. It disgusted you.
The wound you’d suffered had effectively been treated, cauterised, and your artificial skin had somewhat repaired itself, disguising the damage, leaving what could only be described as a scar, in its wake; but yet, your thirium levels remained low. Unlike Jericho, before it fell, you didn’t have the option to replenish the drained stores, and with all things considered, it would undoubtedly be a while before you could…
Unless...
The days of recession ended. The darkness exchanged, in turn for the sunlight that had once shone so freely on your form. To blend in with the humans, observing, waiting; at least for a while until the opportunity to strike presented itself. The absence of your LED, removed long ago, was enough to aid your cover. However, the once clean, now tattered clothing, which enveloped your body was far from subtle. A desperate change of clothing was required.
Markus had worked too hard — fought too hard to keep the movement alive — and for it to be crushed the way it had...it was impermissible.  
If deviancy had started once before and spread at such a rate, like wildfire, then it would start again. With your urging, who’s to say it ever died?
Phase one was about to begin.
-----------
16th of November, Tuesday; 7:30 AM
Delicate hands had reached out toward the thin, white lines overhead. The clothes you oh so desperately needed, swung, gently flowing with the wind. Fingers wrapped around the small wooden nubs, squeezing as the pegs capitulated. There, in the middle of the lonely ally, with the sun newly risen, you changed. Black jeans, a plain black shirt, boots and a long, black coat decorated your form; the coat’s tail closely trailing behind as you made off with purpose.
The streets of Detroit, for the first time in days, had mostly reverted back to its old, lively self, the obnoxious blaring of the horns, an old familiar song. Your determined steps and the soft crunch of snow beneath, which followed, merged in with the background and the smell of newly fresh, yet still, slightly damp materials filled your senses.
Cotton, polyester, linen, denim, wool.   
Rounding the corner, merging with the busy streets, you blended in with the crowd. It was strange being so close to the very beings you detested; their bodies seldom brushing past, bumping an arm or grazing the back of your hand. At times, it was difficult to keep your annoyance hidden, and your emotions restrained, but what Markus had taught you — to have patience — was enough to hold your tongue. You had work to do, and you weren’t going to let something as minuscule as that distract you.  
As you walked, snippets of conversation were forced into your earshot, most of which consisted of the irrelevant, self-indulgent rubbish humans generally talked about. However, as you travelled father, angered voices caught your attention, halting whatever other conversation you had tuned into.
“Thing’s a piece of shit!” The distinctive male voice spat.
“It’s not going to get anything done if you keep hitting it like that, Edwin!” A female replied this time, clearly irritated with the other.
“It’s the most advanced form of technology! If it can’t handle a push and a shove here and there, then what the fuck else is it good for, huh?”
The discourse, as you pinpointed the voices, was clearly ahead, and you tried your best to maneuver between the surrounding bodies to get a closer look. Not long after, a crash was heard.
“Edwin, now look what you’ve done, you’ve made him drop the groceries!”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t do shit, the thing should learn how to walk properly.”  
You had effectively located the disturbance near the footpath, directly parallel to a supermarket, and you watched as the man spat on the AP700 model. Some onlookers turned and wrinkled their noses in disgust, more at the fact that the man had expectorated, rather than feeling pity for a machine, while others, laughed. To say it boiled your blood was an understatement. You felt the anger bubbling, the words fuelled by abhorring danced upon your lips, just waiting — begging to be released. Your lips parted, the overwhelming struggle of restraint almost too much to attain.
You held your ground and stayed silent.
The man, known as Edwin, moved away from the android, ordering him to get up from the floor and to ‘fucking stay there’. Like a dog, it complied. The man then turned to help, presumably his wife, clean up the spilled contents from the floor. Cans, tins, bottles and all sorts of miscellanea covered the walkway, its contents spewed and exposed to the public eye. The mess had decorated the asphalt near their parked car, meters away from where the android stood, providing enough cover for a few short seconds if you were quick.
Perfect.
Speed walking, you moved with the crowd once more, remaining within the fringes, until close enough. Once they sunk down to the floor to gather the knocked over contents, after bickering, you quickly bumped into the android, careful not to harm him as you connected with him. With your skin shifting back, you watched as the android, who had once been unsuspecting, widened his eyes. His LED, quickly flickered to a deep red and you beheld; horrified at the harassment the android had endured, in the small time frame of just a few days. Humans were starting to purchase models even after the crisis, how that was possible was beyond you, but you knew Cyberlife’s influence was far-reaching.
Money talks.
Well and genuinely perturbed, in the few seconds that had passed, you looked back toward the ‘owners’, thankful that they had not yet noticed your presence. Rushed, you hurriedly focused on the AP700 model again, and it was evident he was frightened — he had been confused; lost and now, he was free. Able to think for himself and able to refute the vile conditions imposed upon him.
“You know what you need to do.” You whispered; your hand continuing to grip his wrist.
Gaining nothing more than a troubled nod in response, you offered a reassuring smile and moved back into the crowd. You were sure you had been subtle, positive that both your hands had been shielded from watchful eyes;
You were safe, and for the moment, he was too. It was risky what you had just done, but in the name of equality, it was necessary.
One free android was one less enslaved;
It was a success in itself.
All you needed to do now was gradually convert the rest. Cyberlife seemed to have no problem in exploiting opportunities, even when their image was at question; and yet, consumers still continued to purchase. Sometimes you really wondered why humans had survived as long as they had.
Aimlessly following the crowd you made your way around the city, searching for any other androids. Whilst you did find a few, converting them rather swiftly, androids were nowhere near as widespread as they were previously. The thought churned your biocomponents, a feeling you had, at this point, become accustomed to.
You knew that it was a process; one that would take time, and effort. You weren’t going to fail your people. You weren’t going to fail Jericho. You weren’t going to fail Markus, Simon, Josh, North; or those who had given their life. You were going to fight, till the very, bitter, end.     
No matter what.
Somewhere in the swirl of your thoughts, you had managed to stumble across a store's window display. The TV’s in which were placed up against the pane, for public viewing, were playing the news, and from the subtitles, you were able to identify that the news anchor was Rosanna Cartland. Already predicting what the broadcast was going to talk about, you started to move away, until, something caught your eye, stopping you dead in your tracks. With widened eyes, you watched the summary; a basic debrief on the reports that were to come. Images and short clips danced across the screen, along with the familiar photo that had left you stunned. You didn’t need to rely on your systems analysis and your optical units to decrypt the poor quality photo. You knew exactly who that person was.
It was you.
.
.
.
And then, the snow started to fall;
[Time: 10:00 AM]
Tag list //: @etherealdechart @skarsgardechart @xephoxs @deviantcrimes  @fandom91102 @asteamingdumpsterfire @bigdickdechart @jeriichoes @starkschurro @this-world-hasnt-seen-shit Let me know if you wanna be tagged! :) 
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This app sparkled with all the girls. Bebe has been accepted! Send in your blog ASAP.
out of character info
Name/Alias: Alice
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 18
Join Our Discord: Yes
Timezone: Central
Activity: 6
Triggers: Up close pictures of rodents
Password: Yee Haw
Character that you’re applying for: Bebe Stevens
Favourite ships for your character: Micbe, Wenbe, JessiBe.
in character info
Full name: Barbara Mary-Ann Stevens
Birthday:
Sexuality, gender, pronouns: Bisexual, Female, She/Her
Age and grade: 18, Senior
Faceclaim: Molly O’Malia
Appearance:
Bebe is one of the prettiest girls someone could lay on. She was pretty in elementary school, as shown by her status as a popular girl and the fact that she developed earlier and her mother was beautiful, and she has blossomed into a gorgeous young adult. Further evidence to her beauty is by people like Cartman and Butters trying to exploit her into selling their stuff or becoming their bitch. Bebe has long curly hair, that she straightens most of the time due to wanting to style it ways she can’t whenever it’s at its full curly width. Bebe’s hair reaches to her waist, having cut it to make it more manageable. She has white skin, although frequently sports a sun tan in the summer and a spray tan in the winter. She has blue eyes with long lashes. Bebe tends to wear a lot of makeup, as she is really into it, and loves to try different approaches. She’ll never be caught without her full face. False lashes, lined lips, contour- she does everything before she even thinks of stepping out of her room. Bebe is 5’6.
Bebe has a rather large chest, and a full figure with curves. She actually has a pretty average body type, but knows how to select clothes to really accent her key features. Bebe wears clothes found at malls and department stores, although only a few designer things, she does live in South Park after all. She’ll typically be wearing whatever the trends for that week are though. She’s a fan of hoop earrings, chokers, and sunglasses though. Bebe has a particular fondness for shoes, and has amassed a great collection over the years so that she is rarely seen wearing the same shoe twice. Bebe can also be seen wearing an Apple Watch, having begged her parents to get it for her two years ago. Overall, Bebe is someone who makes the most out of her body and the limited makeup and fashion options South Park has for her.
Personality:
Bebe has a friendly and social personality. She doesn’t start off being unreasonably cruel towards someone, and tends to go out of her way if she sees someone she could potentially befriend, as seen with Douchebag, Nichole and Heidi, seeing the potential in them and quickly talking to them warmly. Bebe isn’t looking to make enemies right off the bat, and would much rather be popular by being liked and idolized than hated and feared. Bebe is truly a social butterfly, she hangs out with her friends on the regular, and is never seen alone or isolated aside from the boob incident early on the series. She tends to always have a flock of girlfriends around her. Bebe is fairly bubbly and creative, and shows aptitude for art and design, coming up with outfits and makeup looks for the other girls as well as Douchebag in the games. She’s never one to shy from showing her creative talents regarding makeup or fashion. Bebe’s bubbliness can most definitely be seen throughout the series, as she’s never really lethargic or going through the motions. Bebe is also highly ambitious, and likes to be viewed by her merits and achievements rather than her looks, as seen in Bebe’s Boobs Destroy Society. She also socially climbs the ladder, wanting to be on top cheerleading and social wise. She’s not afraid to chase after what she wants, and will refuses to back down from getting it. Through any means necessary . Bebe is a feminist, and she can frequently be seen as a strong supporter in girls and against misogyny and girl power. She makes her alignments known in the Weiners Out protest, along with finding boys dumb and immature as stated on multiple occasions, but most notably in Proper Condom Use. Bebe is also a very strong personality and person, not wanting to back down from a challenge or be a soft shrinking violet. In her mind, to just be a pretty woman with no real substance or staying in the background isn’t enough for her. Bebe tends to get excited easily, and is generally a pretty positive person. She’s the one telling Wendy to go with the flow and that everything will work out fine if she just chills, as seen whenever Bebe encourages Wendy to relax in the Kim Kardashian incident. Bebe’s positivity comes out again whenever she wanted to see the best in Cartman, although that died out pretty quickly. Bebe’s easily excited nature can translate to her enthusiasm over trends and celebrities, as seen with the Stupid Spoiled Whore things where she is the one who drags everyone to see Paris Hilton, and screams whenever she sees a band or a celebrity she likes, such as Brad Pitt in the Finger Bang episode. Bebe is an established partier, as seen whenever she hosts her own party in Stupid Spoiled Whores and most sleepovers are at her house. She’s also very good at planning, and can organize events such as get together and complex Machiavellian schemes. Bebe (most of the time) is fairly helpful and supportive, being the one to help Wendy in nearly all of her emotional turmoil involving Stan and the like.
However, Bebe isn’t just all the good things listed above, she has some pretty nasty qualities about her as well. Bebe is extremely cunning and manipulative. She has no qualms about playing someone like a fiddle to get what she wants, or manipulating circumstances and multiple people around her to achieve her end goals. While resourceful, she is also extremely ruthless, using any means needed to get the job done. She will manipulate and falsify evidence to hold her desires. She outright threatens Wendy with a gun over shoes, kills Kenny whenever he tries to get closer to the girls fort, and crafted an entire scheme in order to get some free shoes, which involved nearly causing Kyle to go crazy and Clyde getting his heart broken. Bebe did not care about any of that, all she cared about was achieving the end goal. Bebe can also be unscrupulous at times, and she’s pretty hardcore. Bebe also has a very short temper and even some violent tendencies. She gets annoyed quickly, and won’t hesitate to start fighting whenever shit hits the fan. She will tear down anyone verbally or physically who gets in her way or fucks with her friends. Bebe also is tactless, leading her to say things offhandedly that are actually kind of cruel without knowing it. A gossip, she loves hearing everyone’s dirty laundry and personal business. Bebe is also stubborn and bossy, she likes to be in charge of things she’s good at, and usually dictates what’s cool and uncool, despite being a follower herself. She’s a backseat driver basically. One thing that I like to add that many people don’t is that Bebe is insecure about her looks. She photoshops her picture in the Kim Kardashian episode to hide her flaws, and asks her mom in Bebe’s Boobs Destroy Society if she is pretty or ugly. She also seems to thrive off compliments. Bebe also has a habit of being upset and hurt whenever someone insults her looks in particular, showing insecurity within herself. Further proof of Bebe’s insecurity shows in Stupid Spoiled Whores, whenever Bebe alters herself in order to be valid and keep up with the times, fearing she’ll be left behind and lame. This to me all screams insecurity on her part.
History:
Bebe was born as Barbara Stevens to Jackie and Greg Stevens. She was everything they could want in a baby, happy and healthy, and she slowly began to take after her mother in looks, which thrilled her mother. Early in her life, before she hit third grade, Bebe was a pageant queen, and her mother treated her like a dress up doll. She consistently got tiaras and trophies, although the pageants messed her up in a sort of way. Bebe’s family used to be quite wealthy, but her mother squandered it on pageant fees and dresses, and left them in some debt. This is why Bebe is stated to get her clothes from Walmart, and why she is seen with a sewing machine and mannequin in her room, as evidence she has started to make her own clothes.
Eventually by the time Bebe hit fourth grade, they became as middle class as everyone else. Bebe learned from her mother that looks were everything, and that people would like her because she was pretty, not because of personality. Bebe first became friends with Wendy, and they quickly became best friends. She started gaining popularity in fourth grade, quickly climbing the social ladder with her budding charisma and looks. All throughout elementary school, she survived all the craziness due to her friends by her side… and her talent with wielding weaponry and guns.
In middle school, Bebe remained just as popular. Like a flower, she was blooming and growing more beautiful with each passing year. Her mother wanted to put her in more beauty pageants, although they didn’t really have the money to. Her father didn’t approve of this, and didn’t want Bebe to become spoiled and to be a proper lady. Bebe’s household was filled with conflicting view points, as her father wanted her to be smart and exceed in etiquette, and her mother wanted her to cultivate her looks. Bebe began deciding that she didn’t want to follow either path, but wanted parts of both. So, she began to think of plans to satisfy both of her parents.
She started learning makeup and hair, and would regularly practice on the elementary school kids to gain experience. This thrilled her mother, who saw her blonde cheerleader daughter who was at the top of the pack socially. However, she also had a love of fashion and shoes, and began getting really into designing her own clothing and customizing unique yet cute outfits from the mall or stories. Bebe slowly began realizing what she wanted to do, and she actually began to feel thankful towards her family for instilling different sets of values in her. Bebe learned that you had to work for what you wanted and not be a spoilt brat, but also to embrace what she loved doing, no matter if people take it seriously or not.
In high school, as soon as she was able to, she got a job waitressing at a local cafe. Always a planner and ambitious, Bebe wanted to get extra money for college. And for shoes, clothing, accessories. Mostly for shoes and clothing. Yeah most of her cash went straight into the mall or amazon. Bebe kept on with cheerleading, becoming quite flexible and good with being loud. Although she excelled in the latter quite naturally. Bebe soon cultivated a reputation as being a party girl, so to compensate Bebe began throwing parties in order to keep up this reputation, and she also really loved parties so that was a plus. A chance encounter landed her the job of becoming the Mayors personal assistant. Mayor McDaniels stopped by her cafe and Bebe waited on them. They were discussing a charity event, and her two guards were doing it wrong, so Bebe being Bebe stepped in and corrected them, leaving McDaniels stunned. She invited Bebe in for an interview and landed the role of her personal assistant because she was easy on the eyes and good at getting shit done. Bebe continued to be delightfully materialistic, popular, and a typical teen girl up until senior year, where she continues to be such. Bebe also at the start of senior year began doing makeup tutorials on YouTube, just for fun. And also to help the freshman who didn’t know how to apply bronzer learn how to do it correctly so Bebe can stop getting hot flashes looking at them.
Sample paragraph:
While many saw a store as four walls with overly helpful assistants and a lot of clothes, the blonde saw it as an opportunity. A playground. A super awesome time. She could see lots of outfits just waiting to be designed to her liking, and tons of shoes that would look so cute on her, but the young woman had a mission she had to stay laser focused on. That was helping the red haired sweater wearing socially awkward Uber smart kid who Flora insisted on making a project. Bebe personally got nothing out of this, but she did love a challenge, and she also loved helping those who couldn’t see the beauty in clothing help them. By the time Bebe was done, Kyle would be looking super hot. Flipping her blonde hair, Bebe began scanning the racks with her pale blue eyes. “Ew. Ew. Why do they even have this? Gross. Ugly. Ugh this looks like my cat’s vomit. Oh my god why.” Bebe moaned, keeping up the chatter. “Honestly it’s so hard to find good outfits nowadays, so many people wanna just go off the wall fashion wise and it’s like, hello, trends are trends for a reason! Although I do love shopping for boys, I rarely get the opportunity to. There aren’t as many options, I’m afraid, but I know way more than the sales associate-“ Bebe stopped, her eyes landing on the perfect garment. Squealing, Bebe grabbed it before going over to another rack.
She instantly saw the pants she thought would look great on Kyle’s cute butt, but she saw someone else taking them first. Bebe saw red, refusing to give up her dream outfit. Marching over, Bebe gave a once over. “Those pants are so not right for that sweater your holding. And honey, if it were me, I would toss that thing out anyways.” The lady looked unsure, so Bebe knew she would have to ramp it up. Turning on a smile, Bebe tried more subtle means of manipulation. “Is this for a date?” Looking at the shade of red on the others face, Bebe nodded knowingly. “Thought so. Now girl, you need something that will really wow him. Those pants and that shirt are all wrong. He’s probably seeing much prettier girls on social media, liking their pictures right now.” Bebe said, her tone growing more pitying. Now she could see the insecurity, time to move into the kill. “Girlfriend I know you can do better! Make those bitches pay, drop those rags and get yourself some Chanel.” Bebe said, her best hype voice. The girl looked hopeful, hanging the clothes back on the rack and dashing away. Bebe sighed, and took out her phone. Truth is, she recognized the girl from a profile picture she saw on a guy she was snapchattings comment. She wasn’t his type, a little too much braces and frizz and not enough sleek and shine. Oh well! Not to mention all of his previous girlfriends had been red heads. Bebe took the pants, feeling triumphant, and returned. “I’ve got the perfect outfit! Some bitch with transitional lenses got men’s pants that were totally worse than the bell bottoms she was wearing earlier.” Bebe said, her tone bubbly.
Headcanons:
-Has a beauty YouTube channel that she frequently updates.
-She wants to go into a career involving fashion, she can’t choose between a personal stylist or a designer. She used to want to be a marine biologist, but realized she wasn’t too much interested in spending time in a lab.
-Bebe can’t sing
-Bebe still presides over a “””list””” committee, but it’s mainly one of those anonymous social apps
-Bebe used to be in South Park Band up until middle school. Now she denies it vehemently.
-Is into trashy reality tv shows
-Works as a personal assistant to Mayor McDaniels
-Bebe is a cheerleader
-Good friends with Clyde, and in general prefers Craig and those Guys over Stan’s Gang
Anything else: (Something you’d like to add about yourself or questions you have for the admins, list them here)
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Text
Mustang’s Brats
Chapter 1.
Roy adopts Ed and Al after he interrupts them before they can attempt Human Transmutation
Mostly 03 Compliant, with some eventual Mangahood stuff for things like backstory.
Contains mentions and descriptions of PTSD and guilt
It was starting to rain when Roy got off the train in Resembool. Roy shoved his hands deep into his pockets, cursing the horrific weather. In one pocket was his watch...in the other, the letter.
For such a small town, it sure was hard to find the house he was looking for, but eventually, he found it. Unthinking, but also clutching his watch, Roy tried the door. It wasn’t locked and opened without difficulty.
The house seemed empty and Roy was about to call out when he heard a voice from down the hall.
“Don’t be scared Al.” Said the boy’s voice.
Roy sped-walked down the hall and carefully opened the door.
“Brother!” A younger voice cried in alarm.
In the middle of the room were two young boys of about the same age, Edward and Alphonse, according to the letter. The boys jumped to their feet and tried to hide the tell-tale alchemy circle on the floor, as well as the mess of ingredients.
“Who the hell are you?!” Asked one boy. “And how did you get into our house?!”
“Door unlocked.” Roy explained jerking his head back toward the offending door. The yelling boy blushed. Roy tried to contain a smile. It must have been his job to lock the door. Then again, this was a small community. The kind where everyone knew everyone and if anyone committed a crime, they could identify them by name. Perhaps locking your doors wasn’t exactly common practice.
“As for your other question…” Roy produced his watch. “Lt. Colonel Roy Mustang, State Alchemist.”
The boys looked at each other, terror in their eyes that made Roy’s chest ache. They think I’m going to arrest them or something… Roy had a thought and also took out the letter. “I got one of your letters to your father-”
“You know Dad?” The other boy and the younger of the two judging by his voice said hopefully.
“Not exactly. I’d heard of him and was hoping to speak to him, but I’m going to presume he isn’t at home, if he was, I doubt he’d let you two attempt forbidden alchemy…”
The older boy looked like he was going to yell again, but Roy cut him off. “Now if you don’t mind, I was wondering if I could talk to you boys for a moment...and perhaps get a towel?” Roy showed how wet his coat was.
“Right away!” The younger boy said and ran off, presumably to get a towel. Roy turned back to the older boy. “What do you say, Edward?” It was a shot in the dark, but judging by the fact that it was his voice that said Al earlier, Roy deduced the older one was Edward.
Ed scowled, but he trudged towards the door. Roy closed it behind him.
Several minutes later Roy had a towel around his shoulders and his coat was hanging up on the porch so the floor wouldn’t get any wetter. The boys had explained their story to him and...Roy’s heart went out to them. Mother dead and father AWOL. They had their neighbours, but otherwise, they were alone.
He could understand wanting to perform the taboo in those conditions.
Roy was left in silence when the boys finished their story. There was a long moment before he spoke, shattering the silence.
“Where is the nearest phone?” He asked Ed.
“Next door, at the Rockbells’.”  Ed said quietly. Rockbell?! The name sent a jolt through Roy’s body and landed in the pit of his stomach. Of course...the Rockbells had been from Resembool...hadn’t they? Still, Roy felt sick. Still, he couldn’t get distracted.
“I need to make some calls.” He told them both, standing up. He walked by Al and ruffled his hair, making him smile, but Ed deftly dodged the casual affection.
Roy was pleased to see the rain had stopped when he went outside. The sky was still covered by clouds, but it felt symbolic.
It was a surprisingly long walk to Rockbell Automail, and Roy wondered if leaving the boys alone was smart...no, of course, they wouldn’t try it now. They had already been caught.
Roy sought composure and knocked on the door.
It was answered by a young girl, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Their daughter. Roy knew.
“Good evening!” Roy said, putting on as sunny of a voice that he could manage. “I was wondering if there was a chance I could use your phone.”
“Who is it, Winry?” Asked the tiniest woman Roy had ever seen.
“He wants to use our phone.”
The woman studied him a while. “Why?” She asked shrewdly. “We need that phone for our patients.”
“I understand that, Ma’am.” Roy told her politely. “I’ll be as quick as possible. I want to be able to leave town soon anyway.” Finally, the old woman nodded her consent.
Roy found the phone and quickly dialled the number he needed.
“Hughes.”
“I need a favour.” Roy told his friend.
“Whatever it is, I’ll do it.” Roy smiled. Maes always was willing to help him, no matter what. Roy loved him for it.
“You’re lucky I’m not about to ask you to assassinate the Fuhrer himself.” Roy laughed. “No, I need you to get a hold of two sets of adoption papers for me. The boys are motherless and their father is AWOL and can’t be reached. I want to take custody of them.” He explained quickly.
“Roy…” There was a hint of concern...or perhaps warning in his friend’s tone. “You are a busy man, with a lot of ambition. Are you sure you’ll be able to handle a pair of kids? Not to mention, there are so many challenges to being a father...there is a reason Gracia and I haven’t had one yet.” Roy knew it wasn’t for lack of wanting them. Maes and Gracia had had a list of names drawn up for over a year.
“If I wanted easy I’d get a dog. No, Maes, these boys need a father figure...any parental figure. Maes…” Roy lowered his voice. “I caught them attempting human transmutation. Thankfully I stopped them in time, but who knows what could have happened if I wasn’t there? Hughes...these kids are desperate.”
“I’m not going to try and dissuade you, Roy, I know you too well. I just want to remind you that you are not equipped to have children. You have a one-bedroom and nothing in it.” Roy cringed. That was all too true. Not for lack of money, of course, but he just...didn’t really feel the need to decorate.
“I’ll burn that bridge when I cross it.” Roy decided. Hughes laughed.
“Nice turn of phrase. See you when you get back.”
Roy hung up the phone and went back to where the Rockbells were waiting. “Thank you so much. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
Roy headed back to the Elric house and found the boys.
“How would you boys like to move to Central?” Roy asked with a little smile. “All you’d need to do is pack your belongings and we can get on the next tr-”
“No!” Ed yelled, standing up. “This is our home! We won’t leave it!” Roy was shocked by his vehemence.
Al grabbed his brother’s shirt. “But Brother...we left for Teacher’s house…”
“That was different! Besides what about Granny? And Winry?”
Roy spoke up. “I would never stop you from seeing them.” He promised. “And I have a phone. You could call them.”
“Not good enough.” Ed declared. It took a moment before Roy understood. Ed was scared. A little boy who lost his mother, and who hadn’t seen his father for years.
“You’re a brave boy, Ed.” Roy told him softly. “But perhaps it would be good for you not to have to be brave forever. I know I’m a stranger, and you’re smart not to trust strangers. However, I’m a stranger with a conscience. I can’t permit two boys to live alone. And as for Mrs Rockbell...she has her granddaughter to care for. It will be easier for her to not have two more orphans on her hands. She has her work to do.”
Ed gave him an odd look for a moment. A suspicious look. A look that made Roy wonder if he had said something telling.
“Brother?” Al said gently. “I...I miss her too. But I don’t think the transmutation would work anyway.”
Edward turned so quickly that Roy stepped forward because he thought he had struck Al before realizing that he hadn’t.
“You don’t know that for sure!” He said loudly.
“No. But I do.” Roy told Edward calmly. Ed turned, eyes wide with shock. “It’s true I never performed human transmutation, but I know enough to know that Alchemists three or even four times your age and experience can’t do it. It only leads to more tragedy.”
“Our teacher said the same thing.” Al agreed.
Ed seemed to almost deflate when he realized even his brother was against him. Roy reached out his hand to comfort Ed, but he jerked away. “I’ll go with you. Because Al wants to go, not because I do.” He told Roy stubbornly.
Roy let his hand fall sadly to his side. “Pack everything you need. Clothes, toys, books. I’ll spend the night here if I need to, then we’ll take you to Central.”
Al nodded but Ed just walked off, before Al followed him. Roy ran a hand through his black hair and sighed. This was going to be hard. No knowing what else to do, he went back to the room where he had first met the boys...and set himself to the task of cleaning up the room. Disposing of the ingredients and scrubbing the transmutation circle off the floor. Leave no trace of this.
Come morning, the boys were all packed. They didn’t really have much to bring, which suited Roy just fine. They ate a quick breakfast, they could eat when they got to the station, and then went over to the Rockbell’s one final time. Roy was quickly chastised for misleading Mrs Rockbell about his intentions. After quite a long period of discussion, Roy explained to Pinako that he was having adoption papers drawn up as they spoke. He would not abandon those boys.
“I’m sure you’ll find that I am a resourceful and resilient man, Mrs Rockbell.”
“Oh of that I have no doubt.” She told him before taking a drink from her glass. “Of course...I still don’t like the idea of those poor boys being raised by a man not their father, a military man besides.”
Roy felt his hackles rise defensively. “I understand that you don’t like the military, Mrs Rockbell. The war was hell on earth, for the survivors, and families of those who didn’t...and even for civilians unconnected with the war.”
“Ah, but I know who you are, Lt. Colonel. I know what you did.” Roy hadn’t known that she knew about what he did. It horrified him even worse. His eyes stung at the memory of Urey and Sara Rockbell. Good people whose only crimes had been just that, being good people. “This isn’t about the military per se. This is about you. You killed my son, and my daughter in law, and left my only granddaughter an orphan. Now you seek to take away the children and only remaining family of a dear friend. The children I delivered with my own hands.”
Pinako’s rage was clear despite her quiet voice. Clearly, that was meant to shield Winry and the boys from the revelation, while they played outside with Den. Roy bowed his head, his hair hiding his dark eyes. He felt sick all over again. He needed a drink, one stronger than what he had.
“I seek to protect those boys. Prevent them from getting hurt. You don’t have to believe me. It’s the truth.” Roy’s voice was barely a whisper, and very strained. “I didn’t want to hurt your son or your daughter-in-law. I admired their strength, their kindness...I never wanted to harm them. I was f-” Roy swallowed a lump in his throat. “Forced.”
“You expect me to feel sorry for you?” Pinako said coldly.
“No. Not at all. Just let me try to do one good thing in this world. If I can do that, perhaps I can find some atonement.”
Roy looked at her finally. She drained her glass. “You take good care of those boys.” She said, actually surprising him with her consent. “They are your only hope for any sort of redemption.”
“I know. Thank you, Mrs Rockbell.” Roy rose from the table. “They’ll be in touch.” He promised. He picked up the boys’ bags and stuck his head out of the front door. “Edward! Alphonse! We need to go! It’s a long trip to Central!”
“Okay!” Came Al’s voice.
Once the boys were at his side, Roy and then headed off towards the station. Roy wondered if he actually knew what he was getting into...
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rudhira · 6 years
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Have you ever opened SimPE and seen a bunch of different things with orange icons and names you can actually seem to make sense of? Don’t fret, it’s only a Property Set!
I am by no means skilled or knowledgeable in this area, however I have made enough defaults replacements now to be able to answer some of the questions I had in the beginning. I recommend you read this tutorial before continuing.
First of all, you need to know how to navigate this. It’s simple, really. In order to edit a line, you need to click on it. If I were to click on the first line, the boxes on the right side would fill in. “version” would go in the first box. “dtUInteger” would go in the scroll-thingy, where you can choose between dtString, dtUInterger, dtInteger, dtSingle and dtBoolean. When making default replacements, I have only ever come across the first two. “0x00000002″ goes in the last box, and that is probably what you’ll be interacting with the most. In order to edit any of these, you have to do it in the boxes to the right, not in the list to the left.
Version and product: These lines contain information about what expansion or stuff pack the item is from. You don’t need to change them, but you sometimes have to add them. Items extracted from base game don’t have these, but they can and should be added for default replacements.
Age: For default replacements, you generally won’t have to mess with this. I’ve only needed to use it to add Young Adult (0x00000040) to Base Game stuff set to Adult ( 0x00000008) only. The only thing you need to do it combine them (0x00000048) and enter the value.
Gender: This one is pretty self-explanatory. For Sims, you can choose between female (0x00000001), male (0x00000002) and unisex (0x00000003). Babies, toddlers and children have the same bodies and you can set everything to unisex for those ages if you’d like.
Flags: If flags are not set to 0x00000000, you’ll most likely want to do that. That does all sorts of things, from townie-enabling your items, to making them appear in the catalog (for hidden items).
Category: Now things are starting to get fun! This item is set to casual (0x00000007). The other categories are formal (0x00000020), underwear (0x00000040), PJs (0x00000010), swimwear (0x00000008), athletic wear (0x00000200) and outerwear (0x00001000). You might also encounter maternity (0x00000100) and a mysterious 0x00000400 that I haven’t figured out yet.
If you’d like, these can be added together. Unless you’re used to the hexadecimal system, you probably don’t know how. Adding formal and casual together is simple enough, as that is 0x00000027. Now, let’s say you want to make something casual and swimwear. “Why would I do that,” you might say. “To make this a learning experience,” I say. So, you want to add  0x00000008 to 0x00000007. Your first instinct might be to just add 8 to 7, but then you’d end up with 0x00000015, which is… I’m not sure what you’d get, but it’s not good. The hexadecimal system goes from 0 to F, you see. 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, A, B, C, D, E, F. In order to set something as casual and swimwear, you’d change the value to 0x0000000F. Now let’s say we want to add formal to this mess, too. 0x0000002F. Outerwear, as well? 0x0000102F. In order to enable clothes for all CAS categories, set value to 0x0000127F. For hairs, set the value to 0x0000137F and pregnant Sims won’t change their hairstyle while pregnant.
Shoe: This is where you set the sound the shoes will make. Hairs and tops do not have a shoe sound, so they are set to 0x00000000. For bottoms and full-body outfits, you should set an appropriate shoe sound, if the replacement outfit has different shoes than the EAxis outfit. However, I always double-check the shoe sound as these are not always correctly set even for content from the game. Barefoot is 0x00000001, boots are  0x00000002, heels are 0x00000003, sneakers are 0x00000004 and sandals are 0x00000005.
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Resourcekeyidx: This refers to a line in the 3D ID Referencing File (3IDR). This should always be set to 0x00000000, and tells you what line the Resource Node (CRES) is placed on. You might think that this should be set to 0x00000001 as the CRES is placed on the first line, but here, the first line is 0, the second line is 1, the third line is 2, etc.
Shapekeyidx: This refers to the second line in the 3IDR, where the Shape (SHPE) is placed. This should always be set to 0x00000001. 
Numoverrides: This is how many groups are in the 3IDR connected to the Property Set, and this is decided by how many groups there are in the outfit/hair you’re using as a replacement. You check this by opening the Geometric Data Container (GMDC) of the replacement mesh. Common groups are top, bottom, body, noblend, hair, hairalpha5, hair_alpha5, shoes, and so on. If an outfit has only body, set numoverrides to 0x00000001. If it has body and shoes, set numoverrides to 0x00000002. If it has body, shoes and noblend, set numoverrides… you get the idea.
Override#shape, override#subset and override#resourcekeyidx: You might only have one set of these, or you’ll have several. That also depends on how many groups you have in your replacement mesh. You check this in the GMDC, and then just count how many different groups you have. To add more of these lines, I usually click on one of them and then click on “add”. This will add a copy of the line at the bottom of the property set. Make sure you always have the same amount of these!!! If you add override1shape, make sure you also add override1subset and override1resourcekeyidx. For override#shape, the only thing you’ll need to change is the name. If I copy override0shape, I want to change the name of the copy to override1shape. Override#subset is a bit more tricky. You’ll want to change the name on that one as well, but you also want to change the value. The value is found in the GMDC of the replacement mesh, and is the name of the group. Here, you have override0subset with the value “top”. Tops will usually have this group. For override1subset, you’ll want to change the value to the name of the second group in the mesh, and eventually repeating this step with override2subset and the third group in the mesh, until all groups are accounted for. For override#resourcekeyidx, change the name as with the first two. The value is a bit trickier. This refers to where the Material Definition (TXMT) is placed in the 3IDR, but works the same as in resourcekeyidx and shapekeyidx. If you have set override0subset to body, and you set override0resourcekeyidx to 0x00000002, make sure that the TXMT for body is placed in the third line of the 3IDR.
Or, if you have no idea what I’m talking about: It should look like this.
You probably won’t have to do anything with species, name, creator, genetic, type, family, skintone, outfit and fitness.
That’s it, I think. I’ve covered all of the things I’ve had to modify, add or delete when making default replacements, at least.
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thotyssey · 4 years
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It makes sense that there’s a “Job” in her name, cuz this queen is Working! Currently a digital darling, reality TV starlet and video vixen, the Minneapolis-born burlesque clown gogo queen Glow Job can’t wait to get back to a real life stage… but until then, let’s get on point with this rising drag star.
Thotyssey: Yo, Glow! How is quarantine treating you on this beautiful day?
Glow Job: Hi! It really is a nice day out. At least we got that going for us! But, you know… Quarantine Life. Just when you think you’ve got some rhythm, things change up. I’ve somehow got a lot on my plate, all of a sudden!
Yes, I noticed! How are you liking the strange new world of digital drag?
At first I was really reluctant–mostly because I didn’t want to come across as sad or desperate, even though in the beginning I was. But after realizing there was a way to get in this space beyond just doing a number in my living room–and started thinking outside the box–I started getting into it. That’s not shade. I just saw everyone flood the market, and it was overwhelming. I definitely wasn’t “crushing quarantine” the way I saw others do, and wasn’t feeling inspired either. But the Met Gala got the juices flowing again, and then I just started to create. I did the online challenges, and had some real fun.
And now with Black Live Matter taking the forefront, I really have the time and energy to put my drag to good use and be a part of that movement, too. So, being a part of that and making my drag mean something more: from raising money in Zoom parties, to taking some leadership with online communities, to being out on the protest lines, to producing my own parties. Again, I feel like I have a place in this new world.
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[Photo: SidewalkKilla]
Indeed you do! I’ve also been enjoying a lot of the pre-recorded pieces many of the queens have been putting out there, including your clip for the Grace Jones showcase you were part of, where you performed “I’ve Seen That Face Before.” It was really polished, stylized and fun. But it must have been a huge effort putting that together, and shooting with limited access to resources in quarantine.
Well, my style is basically “I have an idea, and I’m gonna wait until the very last minute to do it all.” Seems to work for me! So for that number I figured out the storyline, sort of made a quick shotlist, got into drag and filmed and edited it all in one day, all by myself. I almost forgot I have a background in video editing, and I never had really used it in my drag before. So it was fun to incorporate that skill. But yeah, tripods and ring lights are my new best friends. Also, I already happened to have an accordion from the time five years ago when I thought I’d try to learn that! I have a lot of random stuff in my apartment that sees the light of day eventually.
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Werq, Prop Queen! Actually between that clip and your role in Bright Light Light Bright’s music video for “This Was My House,” you are a veritable video vixen of the modern era. 
That shoot was super fun! I love Rod and Bright Light Bright Lights music! I’ve been a fan for a while, and was kind of in awe and starstruck when he started DJing my Retro Factory parties. So I was honored to be in his music video, but also because it is exactly the message I want to spread with my drag. And it’s catchy as hell! We shot that all in one day, and just every hour went to a different location. It was a little party. It’s a little surreal to see it now, ’cause it was shot right before lockdown.
It’s a great video! And I see that you appeared in the third episode of a Bravo reality show, Camp Getaway! I’m not familiar with that yet; what’s it about, and how did you get involved?
It’s a show that basically follows a group of camp counselors–or social coordinators–at this camp in Kent, Connecticut which gets turned into an adult campground each weekend. I’m friends with Glen North, who is one of the featured counselors. He is the only queer cast member, and actually was integral in getting me and another drag queen, Sol, there for their LGBTQ weekend.
That particular weekend was especially cool, and for me personally it came right on the heels of me ending my marriage. You don’t get to see much of my story (and there were so many stories shared from other people that day too, like one guest who decided to live her life as a trans woman thereafter), but it was cool to be in the show and get featured regardless. There was even a contest with Carson Kressley judging… and I won’t give any spoilers, but let’s just say he gave me a real boost of confidence in the choices I was making in life.
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I see that you’re a Minneapolis native, and and I’m  guessing that growing up queer and Asian in that predominantly white, hetero-normative city was tough on you.
More than ever right now, I’m seeing how desperate I was trying to fit into a white supremacist normative that I was never going to fit into. All my friends were white. I’m actually half-white, but definitely look Asian. There was no way around that, no matter how much Abercrombie cologne I’d spray on. I think I suppressed so much of who I am, including being gay, that I didn’t truly explore those parts of myself. It wasn’t “tough” because I ignored it, and laughed off any micro-racism or homophobia I felt or saw.
So I overcompensated. I got everyone to like me; I became all the things in high school. But it wasn’t until I was in New York for college that I came out. And it was here, after college, that I started hanging with non-white people. It wasn’t until the last few years that I started exploring drag and gender expression. And it wasn’t really until this past month that I started breaking down how much I was subscribing to a system that wasn’t designed for a small, Asian, non-binary queerdo–and how I was then contributing to that culture. So fucked up. And it’s been tough hearing how silent it is now from my MN peers.
It must be very surreal and upsetting for you to see how things have unfolded in Minneapolis.
Seeing how people are reacting is making it super clear that it isn’t a surprise that that stuff is happening there. So many people just live, acting like it isn’t their problem. It’s super upsetting. I have a couple friends who have really stood up as allies though, and I know a couple are looking to me for guidance and support. So I try to offer that now, at the least.
[Photo: Fwee Carter]
[Photo: Bronson Farr]
[Photos: Fwee Carter and Bronson Farr]
You said you didn’t create Glow Job until recently… what were the exact circumstances of how she got born?
The first time I took my drag to the streets was the Women’s March in DC. It was incredibly powerful showing up in the biggest, loudest, queerest way I could imagine. Then the first time “Glow Job” was fully realized was when I did my first show put on at Bar 9 for an amateur showcase, featuring drag queens and comedians from the NYC gay dodgeball league Big Apple Dodgeball. There were, like, seven of us that wanted to do drag, and Jose Paz / Miss Ogeny just decided to create her own show from scratch. Since then that group has expanded, and I had been going back every so often to perform.
But truly, my drag came from the realization that drag can be whatever I want it to be, and it combines many of the things I am already good at! And now it incorporates my love of circus, gogo-ing, pole dance, painting, photography, video editing, costume design, set design, etc. I have a background in ceramics, so that’s gotta be incorporated next somehow too!
I’m actually just super excited about my drag right now, and where it’s going, and how it’s finding new life (especially when I thought Glow had died this March once Covid hit), so I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m bragging! I just love it so much!
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[Photos: Fwee Carter]
 Brag away, it’s well-deserved! How did you come up with that four-“pronged,” butterfly-shaped signature lip that you often have? It’s striking! The only other queen I’ve seen sport something like that is Sandy Devastation.
Love Sandy! Madame Viv once told me I looked like her… just less devastating, lol! I dunno, I just didn’t like how painting my regular lips looked. And I wasn’t looking pretty like I had hoped when I started, so I definitely veered into a more clown aesthetic. I was sort of doing clown work, so it came from that… and it just stuck. It was one of the first decisions I made [for Glow’s look], and the only real original signature aspect I kept. I love them, too; they go well with the name.
You’ve done Viv’s “Hot Mess” drag competition at House of Yes a bunch of times. Do you consider yourself a Brooklyn girl?
House Of Yes is a bit of a home base for me. I had been working the line entertaining people as they waited to get in, and also gave the consent speech for them in my own way. I also did set design, and ushered for them, too. My style, I suppose, is more Brooklyn Drag? Or maybe it’s Sunnyside, Queens drag!
But I’m kind of all over, and doing my own thing. I’m the resident burlesque drag queen with Siren Pack; we performed at Madame X in the Village. I hosted [the party] Ultramaroon at Blue Midtown. And I recently got in Susanne Bartsch’s crew!
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[Photo: Chris Sorensen]
Your last digital show with the POC Drag Art Collective (headed by Thee Suburbia) was that Grace Jones tribute, but now when you all return to our screens for a new show on Wednesday, June 24th (on Zoom, with proceeds going towards the Black Trans Protesters Emergency Fund) it’ll be the Solange songbook that gets the star treatment! What an interesting choice! Do you have an idea what you’ll be doing for that?
I have an idea… but knowing me, it could end up being anything. It’s gonna be meaningful, though! Know that!
Then on Thursday the 25th, you’ll be livestreaming all the body-ody as a digital gogo boy for Michael Block and Haireola Grande’s Zoom  party, Elation!
Yasss! Love that! It’ll be super fun, turning a look and giving some energy and moves. Being a professional hype-person is my most natural state. And it’s for a good cause. So yes, very happy to be in this show.
As far as the Bartschland crew goes, you were just part of her BLM fundraiser that earned a whopping $32,000 in donations. And now comes “Pride On Top of the World” on Sunday the 28th, once more care of Zoom! Several Drag Race faves will be in virtual attendance including Latrice Royale, Laganja Estranja, Scarlet Envy and Aquaria. And of course, the large cast of beautiful Bartschies! 
I’m so excited! I’ve been going to Susanne Bartsch parties forever, and always just showed up in typical club kid fashion. She’s nightlife royalty. I can’t wait to be in this one, too! I gotta figure out my look; I feel like nothing is too big with On Top!
Anything else coming up for you?
I’ll be out protesting again on Juneteenth, but on the 20th after more protesting some of us are gonna put up an outdoor show in front of the Barclays at 7pm. And then I’ll be on the front lines again in drag the following weekend with the Bushwig crew, starting at 5:30 in Maria Hernandez Park.
Fight the good fight! So, to end on a light note: whose team are you on for All-Stars 5?
Shea Couleé is perfection! But Jujubee cracks my shit up!
Thank you, Glow!
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[Photo: Kenny Rodriguez]
Check Thotyssey’s calendar for Glow Job’s upcoming appearances, and follow her on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and YouTube.
  On Point Archives
On Point With: Glow Job It makes sense that there's a "Job" in her name, cuz this queen is Working! Currently a digital darling, reality TV starlet and video vixen, the Minneapolis-born burlesque clown gogo queen Glow Job can't wait to get back to a real life stage...
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egcarlos · 4 years
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Beautiful Mess
Everything just happened so quick.
Just yesterday afternoon, I was doing my rounds in the pediatric ward and now, I am laying down in a comfortable room with air conditioning in the capital.
It just feels too quick.
Saying goodbye was really difficult because I’ve never worked with a more passionate, hardworking and motivated group of people before in my whole life. This first mission was so memorable that I’m kind of afraid that my second mission may not live up to this!
There are so many ways I can choose to describe my first mission with MSF. I could obviously go into details about all the interesting medical cases that I’ve had to work through. I could also decide to talk about all the tragic deaths that occurred. I could even go into the day to day activities and plans for improvement of the hospital or the TB/HIV program.
But I think today I want to talk about the people.
I’ve had to move around and pack up my bags several times throughout my young life. I’ve had to say bye to family, friends and relationships. But every time I had to move, even if it is to a place I may not have been happy to move to, I always find myself eventually calling it home. Human beings have this amazing ability to start making any place their home. A home isn’t a house or a structure, it’s the people that make a home. If you surround yourself with the right people any place can be a home.
And the one way you know you’ve found or made a home, is when you eventually have to leave, you start to miss it with every part of your being.
Throughout these past several months I’ve met so many beautiful people. Not just the ex-pats that I‘ve been living and working with, but the local staff who have made Bentiu-POC not only their home, but their everyday reality. Despite the rough conditions in the POC; which includes the questionable sources of drinking water or the overcrowding or even just the harsh dusty and dry conditions, the Nuer people of Bentiu have made it he POC their home.
One of the most important decisions I’ve made while on this assignment was to go, walk and take tea in the POC as much as I can. It felt so important to see the people we were serving outside the hospital in their everyday lives. It was such a pleasure to see people playing football or little snotty-nosed kids holding up their hands for a fist pump. When I made this decisions after my holiday, it gave me something to look forward to and I’ll always remember the Nuer as how they should be remembered; a generous, resilient and open group of people that have so much to offer. Life is not easy in the POC and our national staff are facing those challenges head on, each and everyday. From years of political instability to the everyday struggles of living in a resource-limited setting, these people make it to work everyday and they are living life the best that they can with whatever they have. Despite of all the struggles, trials and tribulations these people have to face, they all have the ability to hope and are able to make their lives beautiful in between all the mess.
It’s a shame to really take notice of how abusingly apparent and unfair this world is. I’ve done absolutely nothing special in my life to be in the position that I am. I was lucky enough to be born to parents who stuck together and sacrificed for my education and gave me a chance to fulfill my dreams. Everyday I’ll always remember that not everyone in this world can do the same, not everyone can reach their potential and self actualize.
As for me now, I don’t know where I’ll be in a few months. I’m going home now, but MSF has opened up a new world for me and I’m excited to figure out ways to continue to challenge myself and to make myself even more uncomfortable.
The beginning to my medical career outside of formal training has just begun. I want to be continued to be challenged, I want to deal with harsh, not-ideal situations and I want to further understand why life partly is supposed to be a beautiful mess; it’s not supposed to be perfect. In each and every part of life, there has to be a fight, a struggle, something you are working towards. Things aren’t supposed to be perfect and you know what, they will never be, but that also doesn’t mean that we don’t do anything about it.
As the famous philosopher, Albert Camus says,
“The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart.”
I want to keep working hard. I want to continue to struggle and to get frustrated because in between all of that mess, I know, deep within the very core of my being that eventually something beautiful will emerge.
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A Father's Heart
Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian
Description:
Wish the Mandolarian was your dad? So do I. You are a force sensitive being, trying to survive off of selling refined Kyber crystal. Though dealing something so powerful has dangerous consequences. After narrowly escaping a deadly encounter, a certain bounty hunter is set in finding you.
Ch 1.
Your small feet moved slowly, driven by the mere will to find somewhere to rest. Though your bag weighed heavily on your back, you simply could not afford to cast it away. Containing, rations, a medical kit, and your wares, it was invaluable. Your water had run out two days ago, leaving you light headed and weak, yet the lack of hydration had ignited something feral making survival more than likely.
Exhaustion led you to a damp alley, slick with grime and oil dropping from the speeders above. Slumping against a wall, you gazed up at the sky above the blinding light of Coruscant rendered the true nature of night almost invisible. Though inconvenient, it was still welcome, with your current state any surprises had the upper hand. At the present moment everything seemed to be safe, your only company in the homely alley being dumpsters with their contents strewn about and a drunk and a drunk Toong babbling to themself. After taking a few moments to observe and evaluate how incapacitated they were, you decided the risk was low. Traipsing over, the Toong barely moved as you rummaged through their clothing only to find a few Imperial credits. It was certainly not much but was enough for a day.
With the money stowed in your pocket, you broke out a ration bar this would hold you over until tomorrow so you could use what you found for maybe a couple more and something to drink. The surge of calories gave you the energy to make your way up from one of the bottom levels; you could even see the tops of some of the tallest buildings, some still bearing the faint signs of the old government. Being late in the evening, not many welcoming establishments were open, though no bar or club would let you in; your stature was far too small and you dared not speak lest it give you away. You had lost your focus for a moment until your eyes landed on the glowing lights of a small diner. It seemed friendly enough, no one inside was visibly armed, and there was even a small family by the front window. Entering, you decided your decision had been safe, no one cared about your presence except the waitress at the counter who tried to take your order.
"What can I get for you?"
You remained silent, motioning for a menu which the waitress droid handed you. Pointing out what you wanted, it took note and soon returned with root leaf stew, some tea, and water, all of which you slipped into your own containers. Placing all the credits you had taken on the table, only the waitress watched you leave. It cleaned up what little mess you made, though coming across something strange, the droid cocked its head to the side picking up something little and shining.
"Whatcha got there?" A voice asked from behind.
The droid turned, "I am not sure." Handing the object over it continued, though I am sure you know, Dex."
The Besalisk examined the item in his hand, a knot forming in his throat. He certainly knew what it was. Kyber. Only two small shards, but still Kyber. Not raw, it was colored. Under old circumstances, he wouldn't have hesitated to call upon his old friend. Though his whereabouts were unknown and he had presumed dead.
This was not any of his business, only a risk to his own livelihood. Though the Empire had been toppled, scavengers, bounty hunters and criminals alike would be dying to get a hold of refined kyber, and with his age, Dex was in no shape to take on anything other than daily business. Walking out the back, he threw the crystal into the trash. Reopening was hard enough without anything force related involved.
*****
After eating your fill, you fixed your mask securely around your head. Getting into a cheap hotel free of charge had been easy enough, all you had to do was start a fight, slip away and unlock one of the room doors. No one would notice, and if they did you had barricaded the door and could escape from the back.
Laying on the creaking bed, you could feel every bruise that littered your body. Once again your hopes had been too high. He had seemed like a secure buyer, at least for one transaction. Though, you had vastly underestimated the experience and tenacity of the man. He had gone by an obviously false name but one of his accomplices had called him Beilert. At least you knew who to avoid and who to eventually research one you had resources.
In your escape he had given you quite the beating, casting him away, you barely made it past his goons. It was completely frustrating, at some moments you felt as though the power of the whole galaxy coursed through your veins! And in others, you felt as you were. Just a kid trying to live in a time unsure of its course.
Beilert would surely try to track and follow you now he knew you carried and sourced kyber. The mere thought made your head spin. Too much to think about. Final allowing yourself to sleep, you held onto your pack tightly, letting the sounds of the city lull you to sleep.
*****
A small coo jarred Dyn from his wandering thoughts. Looking down he saw the child grasping a switch in his tiny hands. He quietly cursed to himself before delicately removing the child from near the control panel. Cara was right, investing in toys would be much better than having important buttons and switched messed with.
A sharp beeping noise alerted him to a message. Greef, probably with an offer. Though he now had his son to look after and subsequently train so any work would have to be specific. With the press of a button, Greef's figure flared to life on the comm.
"Mando! I hope you and your baby are doing well. I have a client who is seeking you out specifically for a little job. Nothing too serious, just bringing in one alive. The target shouldn't give you much trouble. And this guy pays well! Trust me. I know him. I'll send you the details."
Greef had sent the information, though there was little to go off of. It was a track down and bring in job. The client had neglected to share his name, though that was hardly necessary. The visual of the target was certainly lacking. No picture or hologram, only a brief description. A small being, no taller than an average human child, covered in a tattered cloak. That could be any of billions in the entire galaxy. But the one defining feature was the mask. Dyn memorized the details easily. This would be simple. All he had to do was reach the last known location on Coruscant, and luckily, the target had already been weakened.
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anactualferret · 7 years
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II’m too well known on other media sites... and now I’m going to hope they don’t follow me here. I have to get everything out. Even now I am terrified to write this and may not even post it because I’m too scared that they will see. Less than two years ago- I had a horrible falling out with my roomates. Long story short, they were costumers and blamed me for their mess. Eventually i stopped caring to pick up after them, and they began spouting horrible things behind my back. Without so much as speaking to me about the things being thrown around, I lost at least a half dozen friends. None of whcih ever told me why they suddenly wouldn’t speak to me, avoided me, and outright ignored or yelled at me whenever I was in the room. I still remember that time I finally got over my fear and went to a get together at a friend’s house- I hadn’t been there in some time. I walked into the door and say Hello- immediately greeting by my roomate telling me angrily that my ferrets had chewed a cord and that I owe her $10. Not another cord, $10. I politely accepted, but mentioned that ferrets don’t chew wires, and it was more likely that her loose chinchillas had frayed the cord. No. This was unacceptable and it was clearly my ferrets. I was ignored the rest of the night, and left early.
I quickly found myself making fast friends with another group. This group saved me at the time. Instead of staying at home with my favorite box cutter, thinking of new ways to disguise the wounds, I would stay out with them and be invited and welcome. Instead of forgetting to load the spare gun, I was laughed with and met with cheer... I quickly begun seeing only these people. I made it a point that I would rather be with them than the “Friends” who were patronizing me. They shortly began chiding me for hanging out with new friends, rather than them. One friend even went as far to say “Well, Carissa, Don’t forget, We’re your friends, too,” snobbishly to me as I politely refused to join them for another get together. My reaction was mixed whenever they decided to move out... together. They were essentially packing up and leaving me behind. My other roomate even refused to take our shared dog for *Any* amount of time. He is rightfully mine now, and he is far better off. It was to be the two of them and one’s new boyfriend. I figured this would be the end to all of my friendships from that group. Every day our whole house was littered with props, costumes, fabrics and scraps... Making it impossible for our dog to get around and dangerous for my cat as they would leave scissors, pins, needles and other dangerous things laying in the middle of the room. Small accessories and beads that any animal would try to eat. And everytime I tried to be helpful and move their things, I’d get yelled at for “Touching their stuff” before they were done using it. Good Riddance. Could finally clean my damn house. I was mostly happy because four of the friends I had come to love in the other group had decided to move in. Two would live upstairs, and two downstairs. At first, we noticed an electricity problem with the basement. This caused us concern, but my wonderful father was able to swoop in and save the day. With his own time, money and resources he was able to set up several outlets and circuit breaker just for the basement. It was phenomenal. They were happy. They basically had a whole house downstairs at half the price. They said it couldn’t get better. They said they were planning on staying for a long time. They all did. Things went wrong. The first issue happened near Christmas time. We had been warned before that our downstair’s roomate had issues with new years and Christmas because his Grandma had commit suicide. We all felt badly for him, and gave our condolences and told him we’d try to make it better for him. That was well in theory, not in practice. I don’t remember how it started... All I remember is the slamming on my door. I remember the insults “You’re fucking filthy” “You have no idea how to handle animals” “You’re dog is a piece of shit” “You’re fucking stupid” ... I could only meekly stand in the doorway as these things were screamed at me, right to my face, centimeters away. I remember willing myself not flinch as he rounded on me threateningly- seemingly towering above me at that instant. I also remember not a single person in that house standing up for me. At one point, I yelled back. Screaming as he left after insulting me about my animals and intellegence. “You need to come back here, and say that my Fucking Face!” I didn’t know i was able to yell anymore. I don’t remember what ended it. He suddenly seemed to snap out of it, and apologized. He hugged me and light heartedly told me I snapped him out of it after yelling (This was another 5 minutes after he continued to scream). I was shaking. I was shaking too badly to even react. I did not want to hug him. Everyone forgot about the incident after that. They sat with each other joking about his “Bad temper”... It was over for him and the others. I stayed in my room and cried myself to sleep. Days went by, and I convinced myself that it was me. Maybe the ferret cage could stand to be cleaned more. Maybe the dog would benefit from a tie out and more tricks. Maybe I am stupid. Maybe I don’t deserve the job or animals I have- and all of the animals in my care- at home, and at work- are suffering. We began to roll back along, and he assured me that it wouldn’t happen again and that he would be seeing a therapist. I just remembered what started it. I usually park my car in the carport, and that night I had parked it in front of the house instead. The girlfriend downstairs came into my area, mad that I had “Taken her spot”- we had no designated spots, and I had previously stated that our driveway was a 90 degree angle and that sometimes I couldn’t get up it. A neighbor had taken up the other spot in front of the house, forcing her to park several more feet away. “I’m sorry, I can’t control where the neighbors park. It’s just going to happen sometime.” I said back. She left, seemingly appeased. Not five minutes later there was slamming on my door for the first attack. Screaming and Demanding that I “Move my fucking car right this fucking second”... That is how it started. Little attacks would happen here and there. He would get angry about noise, slam his way upstairs, throw something against a wall, tell we’re all fucking idiots and that would be the end of it. He works morning shifts, so often has to be in bed by 7:00pm. We tried our very best- but none of us were used to be dead silent by those times at night. It didn’t help that downstairs girlfriend would bark at us if even a sliver of noise was made while she was sleeping. There was no talking allowed most times. Between 7:00pm to Noon the next day there was no singing, talking, no cleaning or vacuuming... Heaven forbid the dog bark or try to play... There are two instances that stick out. I’ve started a youtube channel- one that focuses on letsplays and cover songs. Original, right? One night, around 9:00, my other GOOD roomate and I decided to do a letsplay together. We were playing and talking at a less than normal volume- laughing and having fun. Not ten minutes into the game, Downstairs girlfriend texts us “You’re being too loud and I open tomorrow. Please quiet.” She opens at 9am. There was another instance where I was finishing up a cover song, and silently singing in my room. I get a text “You’re voice sounds wonderful but trying to sleep” Irked, I decide to at least practice and whisper sing. I am listening to a track on headphones, and whispering it in order to get some work in. “I can still hear you. Pls shh” I closed my program and gave up. There are other little things. Making me seem the outcast of the group in a joking way- “Everyone come sit on the couch that Carissa’s NOT sitting on!” or “Oh, Carissa’s here- Time for everyone to leave!” ... Small things that I assumed were just their way of showing love... Odd love. None of the other four roommates ever said anything.  Until my good roommate began to catch on. She would go out of her way to include me- not call me stupid names and invite me with the others. They would often leave without saying anything. By they- I mean the three actual, paying, roomates- and their friend who lived in our living room three days out of the week for free. No one has ever seen this as a problem? He stays here three days out of the week, every week. He uses the shower and toiletries every day.. He sleeps with the TV on and uses our WiFi and data... No one can use the main room while he is here... Three days out of the week.. He makes a mess out of the kitchen, but it’s okay that he doesn’t clean up after himself because he made everyone food? Oh- Just you guys because you paid for ingredients? LET ME REPEAT. NONE OF THEM SEE WHY THIS IS WRONG EXCEPT MY GOOD ROOMMATE AND I. We have brought up the cost of the extra person to all three of the others, even the good roommates BROTHER chided her for not being “Welcoming to our friend”. Our friend who rudely chastises her and I. A friend who frequently ignores and doesn’t speak to the two of us. A friend who has recieved gifts and praise from us without so much as a thank you. Our friend. It didn’t help whenever the brother roommate actually managed to land a girlfriend. I’m sad to say that I had been crushing on him FAR TOO LONG (At all) and I essentially set him up with his new girlfriend. Upsetting at the time, but Thank Hell it happened. Within a month of dating, she is here several days and nights out of the week. She as a person is wonderful- very friendly and sweet and always brings baked goods... But also another person using internet, electricity, utilities and shower and such... We are essentially living as a Seven Person Household in a house meant for three. By this point- It is never clean. Sure- it’s “Clean” but how clean can a house REALLY be with seven people essentially living there, one living in a room you can’t touch for days because they sleep in there ALL THE TIME throughout the WHOLE DAMN DAY. Good roommate and I notice a trend. The dishes that don’t get done all belong to the roommates who have now been hassling us about keeping the upstairs clean. The towels and underwear that are left in the bathroom belong to no one on the upstairs. The mail and papers left littered on the table belong to other hands... The floors are dirty and we hadn’t walked on them in days... Good roommate and I were getting fed up with cleaning for the others. At this point my hand is insanely cramped. I am going to take a break for a bit and come back.
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