#Because I genuinely have like 3 more Gravity falls references planned

[scooterpengie]

Redrew this moment from Gravity Falls but with them because I really love Flug and Dem's sibling dynamic 😭

This started as a joke but now I'm like Flug and Dem give me such Mabel and Dipper vibes, I wanna see how many more Gravity Falls jokes I can make

#Villainous #Villanos #Dr flug #Demencia #kenning flugslys #Gravity falls #my art #If this looks weird is because #This is like my second ever time drawing dem and Flug? #And it's just sat in my drafts for ages #The last part is a joke but also not #Because I genuinely have like 3 more Gravity falls references planned

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

Glide (Miss Venable x reader)

a/n: hello :3 here we have another song fanfiction whoohoo- uhm Glide (by Lxandra) don't expect too much haha.. its angsty i guess lol :7 oh and its really long-

summary: I am really bad at this holy shit.. I guess its about the “"relationship” between you and Miss Venable (relationship is a weird word-)

warnings: alcohol, talking about depression and suicide (but nobody's actually depressed), notes of sex 

google translate :’D

"So, Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon finally said as he stepped around the table to stand in front of you.

"After telling me about your homosexuality, I would like to know if you are currently in love?"

You narrowed your eyes at the man in front of you.

"What kind of stupid question is that? Is this the part where we braid each other's hair and talk about our high school crushes?"

"Answer. My. Question.", the Man growled.

"Okay okay," you muttered quickly. "Uhm, well let me think about it for a minute."

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

It all started when Miss Venable heard you scream one night.

You had been at Outpost 3 for a few months at this point and in all that time you hadn't spoken a lot and spent the entire time in your room except for meals.

The others didn't know much about you. They knew, you were one of the youngest residents of the Outpost and that you had left your family behind. And of course they knew your name. But that was all.

You spent a lot of time thinking about your family. Your relationship with your parents wasn't ideal, but you still missed them. And if you had known a year ago where you were today, you would have done a few things differently. Celebrating Christmas with them one last time, vacationing with them, simply spending the time peacefully with them instead of arguing.

Usually you cried quietly to yourself, with your head buried under your pillow, hoping, that everyone would forget you existed,  but crying wasn't enough tonight and after dinner you snuck into the kitchen to steal a bottle of the red wine, that you smuggled into your room afterwards.

It was now 1 a.m., the bottle was almost empty, and hours ago you had started tossing the items you had in your room. Your clothes were scattered on the floor, while you had tossed the boring books from the library against the wall. Your bed was a complete disaster and in all your anger you had torn the sheets. There were red wine stains on your pillows, which had almost slipped into the blazing fire of the fireplace after you tossed them off the bed.

And now all you could do was scream.

"Fuck you!" You shouted as you staggered in the room with the alcohol in one hand.

"Fuck you all! Fuck this apocalypse, fuck this outpost, fuck-"

"Miss Y / L / N" interrupted you a loud voice behind you and made you turn around.

Miss Venable was standing in the doorway in front of the locked door, staring at you in confusion.

"Ever heard of knocking?" You grumbled and hid the bottle behind your back.

"I knocked," Miss Venable hissed, her gaze wandering angrily over your chaos.

"And if you hadn't screamed so loud, you would probably have heard it. What the fuck do you think of making such a noise here at night? Stealing alcohol as well?"

"I uh- caught," you muttered as you put the bottle on the round table in front of you.

"Do you know what's really funny? We don't have anything to eat, but there is no end of alcohol. Whoever came up with that must be pretty stupid."

"It was my idea. I am in charge here, in case you forgot."

"Oh right," you sighed and slapped your forehead with the palm of your hand.

"Shit, well, i'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

"You forgot my name?" Asked Miss Venable sharply with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," you muttered before collapsing onto your messy bed.

"But I know it was something weird."

Miss Venable glared at you, which of course you couldn't see because you were buried with your face in your blanket.

"Hopefully you realize this will be punished," she growled.

"Oh suck my dick", you grumbled. "You enjoy punishing others, don't you? You are a little psychopath"

You laughed softly into your blanket and noticed how you became more and more sleepy. You almost fell asleep if Miss Venable hadn't tapped her stick loudly on the floor.

"You will start cleaning up here immediately, otherwise it will be the last night you spend in this outpost."

"Oh shut up. You are totally mean to me," you moaned and pouted at the angry woman.

"Why are everyone always so mean to me? I haven't done anything wrong."

You got up on shaky legs to walk past her to the door, but you tripped and fell against Miss Venable.

"Wow," you mumbled as you stared into her brown eyes with your glassy ones and grabbed hold of her hips.

"I may not know your name, but I know,  that you are really pretty"

"What the fuck is wrong withyou ?! "

Wilhemina pushed you away from her so that you stumbled backwards and landed on the floor.

You stared out at her with hurt eyes as tears welled up in your eyes.

"I didn't do anything," you yelled at Miss Venable, who was still leaning on her stick in front of you.

"It's not my fault, that you're beautiful. Be happy, others are ugly."

"That's enough," growled Miss Venable as she took a step towards you and grabbed your arm to pull you up.

"You're going to bed now."

"I'll do nothing," you mumbled and tried to pull yourself out of her grip, but you were way too drunk to use enough strength and she could push you like a doll on the bed.

You laughed again.

"Guess what, my bed is big enough for both of us, isn't that funny?"

You looked up at her playfully, or at least you tried.

"You beautiful woman. We-"

"Your behavior is disgusting," she interrupted as she leaned over to grab your chin. Immediately you fell silent.

"And my name is Miss Venable."

She looked down at you dangerously and you saw fire in her eyes when you started laughing out loud.

"Haha Miss Venable, I told you it was something weird," you shouted before you started screaming out loud.

"Miss Venable is beautiful whohoo. Can you all hear me? Miss Venable is beautiful. She-"

"What the hell", Miss Venable cut you off again and took her hand from your jaw to put it on your mouth.

"Are you going to be quiet at last?"

"M'sorry," you hummed against her hand and Miss Venable could see from the wrinkles around your eyes, that you were grinning under her hand.

"I want you to go to sleep now and clean up the chaos here tomorrow, do you understand me?" She asked in a sharp voice. But you just glared at her and wanted to bite her hand when she repeated her question.

"Do you understand me?" She barked louder and this time you nodded quickly.

"Good," she said happily as she took her hand from your mouth and straightened up again.

"Fuck you," you mumbled quietly and watched unhappily as the woman went to the sofa across from the fireplace and sat on it.

"Can't you just go?" You moaned as she leaned her cane against the edge of the sofa.

"Oh I'll go," she replied while staring into the fire.

"When you fell asleep."

You groan in annoyance.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Oh come on," you sighed and pulled your blanket over your head so she couldn't see you.

It was actually your plan to wait for her to go away, but at some point (who knows how much time had passed) you actually fell asleep.

Living my life in a bubble

Sometimes reality's too much for me

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Your love it gets me into trouble

Sometimes your gravity's too much for me

(It gets me weak in the knees)

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

A week had passed and not much had happened. The next morning you woke up alone and with a big hangover and barely remembering what had happened the previous evening. Miss Venable had forced you to clean up the mess in your room after she had punished you for stealing the alcohol and as attractive as this woman was, she seemed genuinely angry about what had happened, even though it was actually nothing special. At least that's what you thought, but you couldn't remember either.

The world had ended and her problem was, that you had stolen a bottle of wine and ravaged your room. You wondered how fucked up her life must have been before the apocalypse, if that bothered her. And she wasn't the only one you wondered about.

The other residents of the outpost were all disgusting.

"Why do we have to eat this shit?"

"When are we getting out of here?"

"Why is life so unfair and let me be here with you idiots?"

You hate those ungrateful assholes. Everyone was dead and their only problem was, that they were still alive.

Other people deserved it so much more and the fact that mankind's only hope was in these conceited, stupid assholes seemed like a joke.

When you lay in bed that day and stared lost at the ceiling, you had lost all reference to reality. You didn't know what day it was or what month you were in. You also didn't know whether the last meal you ate was lunch or dinner, although a glance at the clock would have been enough. But you got tired of staring at the clock and watching the second hand, hoping something would happen.

Nothing changed anyway. And all you felt was that big feeling of loneliness that completely filled you. You were a very emotional person and all you wanted was someone who was normal. But everybody in this outpost was a huge disappointment. Conceited assholes, intimidated Grays and Miss Venable, who enjoyed punishing people.

Probably you would have started talking to yourself, but thank god you weren't there yet.

Sometimes you thought, it might be easier, if you opened up to others. But your body had become like a prison and you kept every thought trapped deep inside you because it did not match those of the others. Stupid assholes.

And while you continued to sink into your self-pity, you would probably have fallen asleep, if you hadn't been bothered by the sudden knock on your door.

"Fuck off," you moaned while staring angrily at the door, but the person standing in front of it only knocked one more time.

Asshole, you thought before reluctantly climbing out of bed to open your door.

"I said you should f- Oh Miss Venable," you stared at the woman in front of you.

"Are you here to punish me again for something pointless? If so, I can assure you it won't be necessary .. The wounds from last time still hurt, if you care."

Miss Venable screwed up her eyes.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, actually I don't care, but if it still hurts, you seem to have learned your lesson," she replied coldly and you just snorted in annoyance.

"What do you want from me?"

"You are obviously depressed-" she started and you interrupted her immediately.

"What is that shit supposed to mean? I'm not depressed, I'm just sad. And since when have you been interested in how I'm doing?"

You glared at her with narrowed eyes, but her face still had the same deadly serious expression.

"You've been sad for a long time, don't you think?"

"I- uh".

You looked at her confused.

"All my friends are dead, it's only logical that I feel that way .. I find it rather questionable, that I'm the only one here, who feels that way."

"So?" Miss Venable raised an eyebrow, which made you even more insecure.

"I don't really care how you feel either. I just don't feel like wiping your blood off should you decide to kill yourself."

"Suicide isn't always bloody," you muttered.

"And because we don't have any doctors here-"

"By the way, that's the stupidest thing of all. You know, we have a hairstylist, but no doctors, you also notice that it doesn't make any sense, right?" You interrupted her and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

And again Miss Venable ignored your words and finished her sentence, which you had interrupted.

"..I thought that would help too."

Your eyes widened when you saw what she was pulling out from behind her back and immediately you started laughing.

"Are you serious? First you punish me brutally for stealing a bottle of red wine and now you come to give me one?" You laughed and stared down at the bottle she was holding out to you.

"What's worse is, that you think alcohol is replacing therapeutic treatment. That's pretty sad to be honest, Miss Venable."

Wilhemina narrowed her eyes.

"It's not sad, I just prefer red wine stains instead of stains from your blood," she growled.

"You can't possibly be serious," you mumbled and suddenly had to grin.

"You enjoyed punishing me, right? And now you're coming, because you need a reason to do it again."

"Oh come on," Miss Venable rolled her eyes.

"Take the bottle or don't take it, it's just an offer."

You were still staring at her in amazement. What was wrong with her that she thought this action would solve your problems? Another proof of how fucked up everything was and that the only person you could count on was yourself.

"Uhm, well thank you, Miss Venable," you stuttered and reached for the bottle.

"If you come over every evening and bring me a bottle, your diagnosis may work and I will have very different problems, than my sadness."

"Not funny," muttered Miss Venable, her lips pressed together.

"Well, good evening, Miss Y / N."

She turned around and started to leave and you could only stare after her in confusion. Evening?

Then you actually had dinner earlier, even though you could have sworn it was only lunch.

"Maybe you want to join me-?" You asked suddenly and were just as surprised by this question as Miss Venable, who turned to you.

"What?"

"I don't think getting drunk on my own would be fun," you added, stepping nervously from one foot to the other.

"You did it a week ago," replied Miss Venable and in the torchlight you could see the lines of confusion on her face.

"But I never said it was fun," you smiled crookedly as your grip tightened on the neck of the bottle.

"And I think it would be nicer to do that, in the presence of another person. Especially since you've already seen me drunk."

You looked at Miss Venable expectantly, although you did not know exactly what you were doing. It was probably just your desperate attempt to get someone's attention, simply because everyone, who has ever cared about you was dead. And you knew Miss Venable might not be the best choice. But while the others complained aloud about their suffering and argued about who was worse off, Miss Venable didn't show such feelings and kept her thoughts to herself. A circumstance with which you could somehow identify.

"Okay," Miss Venable finally muttered, surprising you one more time that day.

"Well, great," you said before stepping out the door frame to go back to your room. You sat on the other end of the sofa, across from where she sat a week ago. In your hand there was still the bottle of red wine and for whatever reason you were ashamed of this situation. Miss Venable brought you alcohol because she thought, you could use it to manage your sadness, or depression (as she called it). And if she had actually meant well, which was actually questionable with her, then you had to make a pretty pathetic impression on others.

"You cleaned up the mess," you heard Miss Venable's voice behind you, but it was more of a determination than an acknowledgment.

"And I just noticed that we have no glasses at all".

Your shoulders sagged at her words and for a moment you were afraid she would leave. But you heard her close the door behind her before she went to the sofa and sat down on the exact same place, that she had been sitting on a week ago.

You watched the woman confused, leaning her cane against the sofa.

Her gaze lifted to you and she stared at you as expectantly as you looked at her confused.

"What are you waiting for? Go into the kitchen and get glasses," Miss Venable uttered.

You blinked in surprise.

"I- I didn't know that was a request," you muttered before jumping up from the sofa to run from your room into the kitchen.

When you ran back to your room 5 minutes later with two wine glasses, Miss Venable was still sitting on the ugly fabric sofa just as she had done a few minutes earlier. And somehow there was something aesthetic about it.

Personally, you thought it was ridiculous, that everyone had to adapt to the Victorian style, just because she wanted to. But it was perfect for Miss Venable. As if it was made for it. Her red hair, which she always pinned up so strictly, then her almost black eyes and the lipstick. Also her pale skin and her cane. Even her strict personality perfectly matched the style of clothing.

"Do you want to stay in the door frame and stare at me, or are you finally coming now," Wilhemina hissed suddenly without moving even an inch and immediately a slight blush rose in your face.

"M'sorry," you muttered and quickly closed the door before going back to the sofa. After you sat down, you put the glasses in front of you on the table, where the wine bottle was now.

"I was just wondering," you explained as you poured the wine into your glasses.

"Why the Victorian style of all things?"

"Why not? It looks good," replied Miss Venable, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Well," you began before turning to give her her glass.

"The world is ending and you make us wear 10kg dresses, because you think it looks good?"

"Any better idea?" Miss Venable asked back, putting the glass to her lips.

"Uhm I, i don't know," you stuttered and watched Miss Venable as she drank her wine.

"Don't we have to be prepared somehow or something like that?"

You heard Miss Venable laugh quietly into her glass.

"Prepared?" She repeated with a small grin and put her glass back on the table.

"On what? For the aliens to come and get us out of here?"

You shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know," you mumbled before you put your glass to your lips to take a sip of the bitter liquid and while you were drinking you could feel her gaze digging into your skin.

"By the way, I also find it very questionable what kind of people live in this outpost," you added, setting your Glas next to hers on the table.

Wilhemina let out a laugh. It was one of those laughs that you couldn't tell whether it was meant honestly or sarcastically.

"I'm not surprised you say that," she muttered.

"Is my dislike of the others that obvious?" you asked confused.

"I don't know if obviously this is the right word .. But what I do know, is that you always look disgusted when you see them, so I'm assuming you don't like them and to be honest, I like them neither.

Your confusion turned to laughter.

"Well," you said.

"With you it is obvious that you don't like any of them."

"These people are just as competent as they were poor. They are only here because of their money," she said disapprovingly.

You sighed thoughtfully.

"It's kind of sad, that money was the way in here. Scientists would have been so much more valuable. I'm only here because my grandfather had the money."

"What did you do before the apocalypse?" She asked you and you were surprised by this honest question.

"I went to college to study history," you replied when your gaze wandered into the fire.

"So I can  judge that the Victorian style wasn't the most practical choice."

You heard Miss Venable snort in annoyance and you couldn't help but grin.

"And what did you do before the apocalypse?" You asked, turning your gaze back to her. Miss Venable seemed as surprised by your question as you were by hers.

"It's a little tricky," she began. "Basically, I built human robots."

"Robots?"

"Robots."

For a moment you stared at her in amazement. Miss Venable had averted her gaze from you and directed it to the wine glass in front of her.

"M'sorry, but if you've built human robots, why are you letting real people, the Grays, work for us? Wouldn't robots have been revolutionary in an apocalypse?"

Unlike you, Miss Venable seemed totally unaffected by this.

You watched as the redhead reached for her wine glass and took another sip of the blood red liquid.

"You are asking too many questions for my taste, Miss Y / L / N," said Miss Venable softly, putting her glass back on the table. And even though she kept her voice low, you could hear her indirect threat.

"To be honest, I'm amazed, that I'm the only one asking questions," you replied, trying to make eye contact with the woman next to you again, but Miss Venable's gaze was tied to the blazing fire in the fireplace and you could see a dark glint in their eyes.

"You shouldn't get involved in things that are none of your business," she said suddenly in a monotonous voice. "All over the world there are survivors and it is not your job to question my system, nobody has the right to do so. You are just one stupid survivor of many, nothing more"

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

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

"Oh c'mon," you moaned and ran your tousled hair.

"God must hate me".

You stood on shaky legs from the library floor, that you fell on after stumbling into the room. You brushed the dirt off your skirt and realized with gritted teeth, that it was ruined.

"Seems like someone is having a bad day," you suddenly heard a voice say and immediately your mood worsened.

You straighten up again to meet Miss Venable's eyes. The woman sat on the right of the two leather sofas and with one hand clutched her cane, which was propped on the floor.

"Fuck you", you hissed before you let yourself fall on the sofa across from her.

"Oh, someone is having a very bad day," added Miss Venable, and you didn't have to look at her to see, that she was amused by your behavior,

"Yes, my day sucks and guess what, it's all your fault," you growled and glared angrily at her stick.

"When I got up this morning and wanted to leave my room, I got stuck in the door with my blouse and the whole sleeve was torn. Did you also notice, how much you sweat in these clothes? It's really hard to go at the toilet with these clothes .. I'm sorry, but what the hell was your idea, when you decided to give us a Victorian dress code? Did you have to make our life after the apocalypse even harder ? "

You pressed angrily your lips together and screwed up your eyes.

"You are the only person who complains about it," said Miss Venable and sounded not quite as amused as a minute before. You let out a dry laugh.

"The others are too scared of you, to tell you that," you said bitterly.

"Besides, what the hell are you doing here?"

You tore your gaze away from her stick to look directly into her dark eyes.

"Why shouldn't I be here?"

"Because you're never here and you didn't look like someone who'd like to hang out with Mr. Gallant or Coco."

"Well, neither Mr. Gallant nor Miss St. Pierre Vanderbilt are here right now, right? And besides, I could ask you the same thing", Miss Venable replied indifferently and somehow she was right. It was also a rarity to see you in the library as you actually spent most of the time in your room.

"I suppose my great sadness is over now .. or as you called it 'depression'. I'm more in the mood right now, that I don't care and I am angry at everything and now you are my victim. Your lipstick is smeared by the way", you sighed, although that was actually a lie, her lipstick was perfect as always. But in fact her eyes widened slightly and you couldn't help but enjoy this view.

"You're lying," hissed Miss Venable and you had to grin.

"Maybe".

You shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe you'd better go and see, or you risk the others seeing you ruined makeup."

It was obvious that Miss Venable was a perfectionist woman and she wasn't going to let her position of power be challenged over a smeared lipstick. On the other hand, you were an extremely bad liar and Miss Venable wasn't stupid.

"You're lying," she repeated, only with her lips pressed together, giving you the sense of achievement you wanted.

"Mhh Miss Venable," you hummed as your eyes found her stick again.

"This cane .. when I saw you for the first time, I wondered if it was just a symbol of power or if you really needed it-"

"..And then you saw me walk with it," added Miss Venable with a bitter tone in her voice.

"Oh no," you quickly shook your head.

"It wasn't your walk that gave me the confirmation that you really need the stick. It could never be your walk, you walk so majestically with that stupid thing, that even people, who don't really need a cane and only use it as an accessory would look handicapped next to you."

It was probably a rather desperate attempt to put the whole thing in a compliment and Miss Venable did not answer your words either, but you could see in the glow of the fire how her pale skin turned a light red shade and that was enough for you.

"It was your grip to be honest," you continued.

Miss Venable frowned.

"My grip?"

"Yes," you nodded and started playing with the fabric of your skirt.

"Your fingers are always clenched so tightly around the handle, as if you wanted it to break through. As if you were trying to strangle it or something like that, i dont know."

The furrow on Wilhemina's forehead only got a little wider with your words.

"You seem to spend a lot of time watching what my hands are doing," she mumbled and this time it was you, who blushed.

"It was just an observation, that I made on the side," you stammered quickly when you realized, that from one moment to the next the conversation had taken a completely wrong direction. Miss Venable did not answer again and you did not have the courage to look her face again and so the next few seconds were filled with an embarrassing silence, although you could imagine that Miss Venable was enjoying your discomfort.

"May I take a look at your cane-?" You finally asked to break the silence.

"You want to take a look at my cane?" Repeated Miss Venable, surprised with raised eyebrows.

"Only if it's okay," you said quickly.

"You are the first person, who asks me that".

Miss Venable looked thoughtfully down at her cane, which was still in her hand.

"As I said, the others are too scared of you-"

"The others don't care," Miss Venable interrupted, and you didn't know if she was sad about it or if she didn't care. But we're talking about Wilhemina Venable, she probably didn't care.

The red-haired woman sighed before holding out her stick to you.

You grinned and tried to grab the staff, but before your fingers could touch the wood, Miss Venable pulled it back again.

"How can I be sure, that you won't break it up and use it to make firewood?", She asked you and you looked at her in horror.

"I would probably be the last person to do that," you said indignantly.

"On the contrary, I think you would be the only person in this outpost who would dare to."

Miss Venable held out her stick to you again and this time she let you reach for it.

You immediately noticed how light the wood was in your hand as you carefully ran your fingers over the stick.

"What kind of wood is that?" You asked quietly without looking up from her walker.

"I guess it was blackthorn".

Your fingers moved on to the handle of the stick, which was probably the most interesting thing. A metal handle in the shape of a raven skull served as a support for the hand.

"Doesn't that hurt?".

You lifted your gaze back to Miss Venable, who obviously didn't understand what to do with your question.

"Well, if I had to support myself with all my weight on this skull, it would hurt," you added and Wilhemina just shrugged her shoulders.

"Uhm, it's a beautiful cane," you muttered, handing it back to her.

"May I ask why you need it?"

"I don't know what this should have gotten to do with you," replied Miss Venable, not sounding as nice as before. If you could call it "nice".

"Okay okay, taboo subject, I got it," you said quickly, desperately searching your head for anything to keep the conversation going.

"Do you actually enjoy it? To have control over everyone here? And know that, that almost everyone is afraid of you?", You finally asked and leaned back against the sofa.

"You asked me that a few weeks ago, when you were drunk," remarked Miss Venable, looking down at her gloved fingers, which were wrapped around her cane again.

"Really?" You asked confused.

"More or less. It was more of an accusation."

"An accusation?"

Miss Venable hummed in agreement.

"I told you, that you would be punished for your behavior and you said I would enjoy it."

"I understand," you mumbled, still staring hard at her face.

"What else happened that evening?"

A smug smile danced on Wilhemina's lips and she took a moment to consider your question.

"Well, you made fun of my name," she finally began as she drummed her fingers on the skull-like handle of her stick.

"And then you said, that I was pretty and that I should be happy about it, because other people are ugly."

Your eyes froze as her words entered your brain.

Wrong turn. Wrong turn.

"Uhm .. You know, when I'm drunk I tend to perceive things a lot more intensely than they actually are and then I exaggerate occasionally," you tried desperately to get yourself out of this situation, but Miss Venable just let out a loud laugh and you realized, that you had failed miserably. You cleared your throat briefly and sat up straight again.

"You haven't answered my question yet," you said, trying to change the subject again.

"I wanted to know, if you enjoy all of this."

"Do I enjoy it if you don't obey my rules? No, I don't enjoy that, why should I?" Miss Venable said and again had that indifferent sound in her voice. Of course you knew that she had bypassed your question and that was enough to prove, that she enjoyed her monarchy in Outpost 3.

"You said earlier, that you had got over your grief. That's good to hear," said Miss Venable, and this time she was the one who changed the subject.

"I thought you didn't care what I felt".

You smiled contentedly and cocked your head. Somehow you liked this game of mutual debunking.

"I don't care either, I just wanted to be polite."

Your smile widened when you saw her fingers clench a little tighter around her stick.

"Miss Venable and polite, I don't think this is a well-working combination," you teased her and in the glow of the fire you could see her roll her eyes.

"You were a lot less tiring, when you were crying in your room all day," she muttered disapprovingly.

Why should it be such a struggle

When it means so much to you and me?

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Built like a ship in a bottle

Gotta handle you so delicately

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

I don't know what we got

But I know what I want

The silence is killing me softly

What. The. Fuck.

When you arrived at the Outpost a few months ago, you couldn't even have imagined in your deepest dreams, that you would ever end up in this situation.

You lay on your back, still staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you tried to stabilize your breathing. Only now did you notice, that you had your arms wrapped around your chest and that your fingernails were digging painfully into the flesh of your shoulder. Your body lay rigid in her bed and you couldn't move an inch. You desperately tried to put the things that had happened in the right order.

Was it a stupid idea to go in Miss Venable's Bedroom? Yes, definitely. In retrospect, you didn't even know what exactly you wanted there. And actually you should have disappeared, after you saw that Wilhemina hadn't even been there. But no, of course your curious ass had to inspect her entire room.

And by the time Miss Venable came out of her bathroom in her pajamas, you had already started counting in your head how many punches Miss Mead was going to give you as punishment. You had definitely crossed the line.

But it turned out very differently than expected. Miss Venable had been angry anyway, very angry, but her anger was not expressed in words. The woman had pressed you against the wall and before you could do anything about it, her hand had slipped under your skirt, between your legs and Miss Venable had broken her own rule.

Of course you could have pushed her away, but it felt so right. You wanted so badly for someone to pay you attention and Miss Venable had kind of given you just that, when she pressed you against the wall and fucked you senselessly.

The whole thing was just so emotionless. You hadn't been able to look at her. You were ashamed of every sound you made, and if Miss Venable hadn't put her hand over your mouth, everyone in the Outpost would probably have heard you scream.

Which wouldn't have been so practical, because this man had come here a few days ago and you knew he was interviewing all the residents for the sanctuary and it wouldn't have been very beneficial for you if he'd caught you, breaking you down Venables rules. Regardless of the fact, that she had broken her rule herself.

Miss Venable hadn't said a single word about what had happened a few minutes ago, as if she had absolutely no need to justify herself.

She hadn't even looked at you when she took her hands off you and wiped them with a kleenex.

"You can sleep here tonight," she had muttered.

"It would be noticeable if you left my room now."

And now you lay next to her in bed and tried to understand all of this. Your dress was messy on the floor and all you had on was your underwear. After your fingers relaxed, you had pulled the blanket, that she wordlessly gave you over you and clung desperately to the fabric.

You had calmed down and could now hear her breathing next to you. The fact, that she was just lying next to you and probably sleeping was disturbing. At least, she could have apologized, right? Although, that didn't make sense either, because you obviously enjoyed what had happened.

You carefully turned your head towards her and saw, that her back was turned to you. And you wondered if she was really sleeping or just pretending. Miss Venable had become your most private contact in the outpost and you didn't really know what that actually meant.

You wanted so badly to touch her, but you didn't know if you had the right to do so. Only now did you notice the scars on her back, that shone through the light nightgown. Add to that the snake-like curve of her spine and suddenly you understood why she needed her stick.

"You have scoliosis," you said your thoughts out loud and you heard her hold her breath.

"Congratulations," she hummed miserably.

"You figured it die out."

You nervously began to chew your lower lip.

"Did I make anything wrong?" You asked quietly.

"Ask yourself how you got into this situation, then you will know."

"I- do you want me to go?", Your voice sounded sadder than you actually wanted.

When Miss Venable didn't answer, you felt tears welling up in your eyes as the feeling of fear grew inside you. You screwed it up. Probably the next evening you would end up like Stu as stew.

"No," Miss Venable suddenly whispered before turning to you. The red-haired woman had a blank expression on her face while she watched you cry.

She raised her hand as if to wipe the tears from your face, but she lowered it again and you had to do it yourself.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"You're stupid if you apologize," Miss Venable replied bluntly.

"That was more than just unprofessional of me, I should have let you go and tomorrow you would have been punished."

You looked at her sadly.

"That's the only solution, isn't it? Punishment."

"I don't know exactly what you're getting at? It's actually quite simple. Those are my rules and whoever doesn't stick to them will be punished for it", Miss Venable looked at you unimpressed and you returned her gaze thoughtfully.

"What about Michael Langdon? Does he have to obey your rules too?" You finally asked.

"What does this mean?"

"Uhm well, I guess I've known you for 18 months now and the first time you seem scared."

Miss Venable raised her eyebrows.

"You don't know anything about me. I'm not even remotely an emotional chaos as you are."

Emotional chaos. Okay she had a point. You blinked a few times to force the tears, that were still glistening in your eyes back down.

"I don't know if emotional chaos is the right word," you muttered.

"You should think less about your stupid feelings," Miss Venable sighed, turning away from you again.

"They've only got you in trouble so far if you ask me."

You pressed your lips together and had to suppress an angry comment, that would only confirm her accusation. Your eyes stared at her back again. The red curls of her long hair had slipped behind her shoulders and were now curling on her back. You would have loved to stretch out your hand to touch it. You would have loved to curl up in her arms to feel safe for the first time in over a year. You wanted to kiss her. Or at least hold her hand. Anything. Just a little bit of their affection would have been enough and you would have been happy. It probably all sounds kind of selfish, because she fucked you a few minutes ago. The whole thing just wasn't particularly loving. You felt like a disgusting animal and now you wanted her to show you, you weren't. Miss Venable was only a few inches away from you and all you had to do was hold out your hand and you would feel her warmth. But while it was actually only a few centimeters, you realized, that there were worlds between you and this woman and that she was probably never further away from you than at this moment.

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

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

Wilhemina Venable had a great talent at pretending everything was fine.

As if nothing happened. Nothing had changed in the days after that night.

Since Michael Langdon was at the Outpost, she avoided private contact with you and the fact, that you had shared a bed didn't change that. In addition, she was just as disgusting to you in front of the others as always and that was nothing new either. And while Wilhemina no longer seemed to care about what had happened between you two, at the same time it almost killed you.

You actually expected, that she would want to talk to you about it again, but nothing had happened and that made you angry. Miss Venable would always deny it, but she was the only one who cared about you. And you appreciated her weird way of paying attention to you so much.

The only problem was, you couldn't even begin to imagine, what was going on in her head. While you were acting like a lovesick teenager, the only thing you saw of her was her deadly serious face.

Oh and Miss Venable was right, you were a fucking emotional mess. Since you woke up the next morning in her empty bed, you have cried a lot again and spent a lot of time in your room, but this time Miss Venable would probably not come to offer you alcohol as medication.

It was the afternoon of any day and you were sitting on the floor, leaning against your bed. In one hand you held a pair of scissors, while in the other you held the skirt of your dress. You were still not used to wearing long skirts after so many months and you still kept poking around at yourself, when walking through the outpost, so you decided to cut your skirts short. Of course you knew, that Wilhemina would probably kill you, if she saw you, breaking her sacred dress code, but fuck Wilhemina. At least you could finally walk properly again.

The triple knock on your door made you look up from your work and you got up to go to the door. You probably should have known it was Miss Venable who knocked. Who else has been interested in you, in the past few months?

"We need to talk," said the red-haired woman firmly, without looking at you.

You just nodded and stepped out of the door frame to make room for her.

For a brief moment you were afraid, that Miss Venable would get angry about the dress, that was lying shortened on the floor next to the scissors, but she just ignored it and stood across from you.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, I'm just here to ugh- "

Miss Venable was interrupted by you when you, you stupid idiot, reached for her face to angrily press your lips against hers. The kiss only lasted a second in total, because Miss Venable immediately pushed you away from her and the next thing you felt was her hand lashing angrily against your right cheek. A horrified gasp escaped your lips and you looked at Wilhemina in horror as you rubbed your cheek.

"If you do that again, I'll kill you," the redhead growled, glaring at you angrily.

You looked at her hurt and felt tears start to sting in your eyes.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"Oh of course you are," hissed Miss Venable.

"What the hell were you thinking of?"

"I just- I don't know," you stuttered desperately.

"I think I love you".

Miss Venable's eyes narrowed and she looked like she was going to punch you again.

"This is not love, this is despair, you stupid thing."

"Despair?" You breathed in horror.

"How else would you describe your behavior?" She spat and angrily started knocking her stick on the floor.

"I mean, look at you. You are a total mess. Either you cry in your room all day or you are angry at everything and everyone. You are the only person, who ruins her clothes. You are the one which most often breaks my rules, just because you are too unable to deal with your feelings. You know, everyone can handle what happened, except you, because you are so damn selfish. But you have to wake up.. Do you think, that was what I wanted, when you cried into my bed a few days ago? Oh no. And I know that, was my fault too. You know, everything what I want, is that you obey my rules, but that seems to be too much for your incompetent ass ", Wilhemina scolded and angrily knocked her stick on the floor.

"And now you come and say you love me."

She shook her head.

"As I said, this is not love, this is despair. And I don't know what kind of answer you were hoping for, from me, but let me be clear: In my opinion, of all the residents of the Outpost, you are the most pathetic and I hate you, I really do and you're sick if you even thought it would be different. "

You stared at her in shock. The feeling, that rose in you at that moment was indescribable. A mixture of disgust, shame and anger. But also the feeling of betrayal. And you couldn't say who these feelings were for, for you or for Wilhemina.

"Y-you hate me?" You stuttered, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek to remove your tears.

"I hate everyone in this outpost, that includes you too," hissed Miss Venable.

You shook your head in disbelief.

"I don't believe you," you whispered.

"I still believe, that you are scared and that is why you act like that."

"Mister Langdon will interview you tomorrow," said Miss Venable without responding to your comment.

"If you tell him anything about what happened a few days ago, I promise you will wish you were never born. With your condition, you probably won't be in the sanctuary anyway, but I will don't let me spoil this opportunity from you. Do you understand me? "

You shook your head.

"I don't understand what your problem is suddenly ... I asked you that evening if I should go and you said no."

"The whole thing was a mistake, nothing more", Miss Venable growled quietly and stepped past you to go to your door.

"I hate you and you hate me, that's all that's between us, you understand?"

You wanted to say something, but you decided not to, it didn't make any sense anyway.

"I understand," you said softly.

"Good," replied Miss Venable before turning and walking out of your room.

You stared after her sadly. Of course you didn't understand why she was suddenly so mad at you, but how could you? Miss Venable had wanted to end whatever was between you, so that she would not feel guilty if you were to be murdered by her in a few days. She had never meant to offend you, but she had to make it clear to herself, that she didn't love you. She just couldn't love you.

Show me freedom

'Cause love don't cost a thing

Give me freedom

Yeah don't just let me leave

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

"Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon barked and slapped the table with the palm of his hand. You winced and looked disturbed into the blond man's eyes.

"I asked you something".

He leaned down to you and his face was only a few inches from yours.

"Are you in love?"

You swallowed and blinked a few times, before you whispered softly:

"I am not."

The man leaned back and looked at you thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N," he finally sighed.

"You can go."

Without looking at the man again, you got up to run out of the room. You tripped and if you hadn't held onto the wall next to the door, you would have fallen. For a moment you leaned against the wall with your eyes closed and took a deep breath.

This man was disgusting and a little too intimate for your taste, no wonder, that no one liked him.

You opened your eyes again and realized, that Miss Venable was staring down at you as she leaned against the railing.

Your eyes were lost in hers, her almost black eyes in which the light of the torches is always reflected. You wanted to say something, but you were afraid, that she would leave and you didn't want that. Miss Venable had put on her indifferent expression as always and, as always, you did not know what was going on inside the woman.

Your lips formed a mute "fuck you" when you saw her turn away from you to move. And the faint tapping of her cane proved to you, that she was indeed leaving and you knew that she would not come back.

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable imagine #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #american horror story

[lev1than]

10 Famous Inventions that were the particular culmination regarding other people’s work

An unclean (yet open) secret regarding innovation is most wonderful breakthroughs seldom happen due to a single only genius.

Whereas history is rife with stories with famous inventors, who are generally national game characters, in almost every event they were just the first reduce weight improve a preexisting system to your final level where the item achieved muscle appeal.

Imagine how research discoveries with hundreds of years in the past inspired the works for subsequent ages of professionals.

Or what sort of iPod changed personal song thanks to the actual combination of advancement in the despropósito fields about digital favorite songs compression, hard drive miniaturization, affordable ARM microprocessors and other sorts of technological innovations.

1. Galileo and the telescope

Even while Galileo is normally credited having devised the main telescopes, there was actually a good Dutch individual called Hans Lippershay who had been making addition devices making use of the ever bettering qualities of glassmaking at the moment.

Allegedly, Galileo heard about all these and chosen to build his personal, even generating some changes in the process. Having been also the first person to work with these brand-new optics being a scientific musical instrument, which is where his true value was initially added.

2. James Watt and the steam engine

While I was in secondary school, my scientific research teacher thought it was funny individuals “What was the name of the man who seems to invent the particular steam website? ” Very funny, because “Watt” was the reply, so the problem was a fashionable statement.

Merely steam applications predated Watt’s design just by almost 58 years. Brit Thomas Savery patented the very first steam serps design for 1698, to take out water from coal fosse. Subsequently, Jones Newcomen superior the design to function at atmospheric pressure, of which became the normal design for concerning 50 years.

Watt’s real advancement was building the program with an independent condenser, which made the full process now more efficient.

3. Eli Whitney and the cotton gin

During periods of captivity in the USA, Georgia predominantly expanded cotton that had quicker fibers. The didn’t are very effective with the products at the time which usually tried to take away seeds on the fibers (roller gins), plus required a great deal of manual job. So the point out of Ga sponsored a good engineering force to come up with an improved design.

Whitney improved within the roller gins by updating the sturdy rollers by using wire your teeth.

While this drastically improved manufacturing ability with regard to cotton, this also had typically the sad complication of increasing the requirement for slaves to a fella the career fields.

You may also interesting in invention ideas

4. Elisha Otis and the elevator

Equipment capable of working out with people straight into tall architectural structures has endured since the early Egyptians. And since the industrial wave and the regarding cities triggered taller homes being designed, people started to be tired of being forced to climb various flights associated with stairs. And so elevators had been invented, applying either steam or power engines which often pulled uplifts with ropes.

However, rules have a tendency to bust. And even having an elevator just one or two stories excessive, if the rope broke so you plummeted while using carriage it will result in no less than severe personal injury, if not the loss of life.

Otis truly invented the safety break, which will stop often the elevator through crashing when it was initialized by quick falling every time a rope got destroyed. This took off a major potential for death coming from buildings tall than several stories and even spurred around the building in the first skyscrapers.

5. Thomas Edison and the light bulb

It's perhaps the most popular invention in recent history, and its sign actually sums up the concept of a notion.

And yet, Youngsters Edison didn’t invent the sunshine bulb. Not necessarily the wine glass bulb, or perhaps the glowing filament inside it. They merely better the previous styles to the point that they can become otc practical, in 1880.

The initial electric light product, called a great Arc-Lamp, was made by Humphry Davy with regards to 78 decades before in which but did not last long together with was too bright. Throughout 1850, Ernest Swan has seen that carbonized paper was much better stuff for a filament and put to use them to help make light bulbs. But he could not get the design to be more effective or durable.

After furthermore experimentation, both equally Swan and Edison uncovered subsequently more beneficial materials, and ultimately their a pair of companies amalgamated to market most of their new improved upon design jointly, though most of the people only recall Edison.

6. Guglielmo Marconi and the Radio

In the 1890s, both Marconi and Nikola Tesla have been fighting to formulate the radio. Tesla actually got more of the beginning patents to the technology. Still, the initial treasure of electromagnetic radiation was actually made seven years earlier by German researcher Heinrich Hertz, who was capable to both broadcast and acquire radio swells in his research laboratory.

However, the guy couldn’t imagine any sensible applications regarding his knowledge.

It was after Marconi who has been able to acquire all these technological innovations and switch them perfectly into commercial merchandise.

7. Henry Ford and the car

Honda released the exact Model Testosterone levels in 1908, and it is the first auto to gain block market elegance and good results at a time any time many people nonetheless traveled through the horse.

Nonetheless, the car while powered simply by an internal combustion engine was really created by Karl Benz within 1885, and many other engineers, therefore, improved about the design for greater efficiency, coziness performance.

Precisely what Ford reached was improve production technique of the machine. Her assembly line advanced production productivity significantly, slashing the cost of every single unit for a price point in which people could possibly actually have the funds for it.

8. The Wright Brothers and the airplane

Teens have been hoping to see flight intended for eons. Via Leonardo Kc Vinci’s sketches of hovering machines to story regarding Icarus, many people desired to clear themselves on the shackles involving gravity.

And then the Wright Brothers were not really the only people of their time to try and establish a machine competent at powered airline flight.

George Cayley was the first person to move via designs regarding flapping similar to birds towards a “fixed wing” design. Yet another engineer referred to as Otto Lilienthal then implemented a lot of those models to create genuine gliders through fixed wings and examining them, putting together a lot of files which the Wright Brothers would likely subsequently usage.

Additionally, the very Wright Siblings were able to implement another the latest invention within the time: the internal combustion algorithm from vehicles. They were all-around at just the right age when this kind of became offered.

Their real innovation was a student in their patterns which authorized their planes to actually always be steered as well as controlled. And also rest is usually history.

Also, check out: invention help

9. Philo Farnsworth and the TV

An excellent sort of an invention that had been only probable thanks to quite a few other pioneering technological advances across market sectors.

Farnsworth had the ability to take the trends of the cathode ray tubing (by Ferdinand Braun) and also combine them with an approach to scan graphics using electrons which the person apparently started out thinking of inside high school.

This design likewise outperformed other competing TV SET technology at that moment: mechanical TELEVISION SET.

10. Bill Gates and the Graphical User Interface

Beginning computer systems were being primarily command-line driven, this means you had to know every one of the inputs for you to type right keyboard in order to the machine that which you wanted it all to do.

A lot of people credit Roshan Windows utilizing introducing the globe to the Gui (GUI), which you could use a rabbit to just click on-screen materials to tell it again what to do, making the whole course of action much more simple.

However, much of the progress throughout GUI growth happened very much earlier. Some sort of pioneer was basically Douglas Engelbart, who exhibited an Operating System which has a mouse pointer in 1968. This plan was subsequently taken up by simply Xerox, exactly who released their valuable Alto pcs which were the 1st with a duck and GUI.

As figures go, Apple’s Steve Work opportunities saw an Alto when visiting Xerox’s PARC study center along with inspired him or her to make sure the main Apple Macintosh personal computer would have some GUI, the initial mass-market GUI computers. This unique then flat the way to the even more business-focussed Intel Windows Main system, which got the idea absolutely mainstream.

#inventors #creators #beat maker #inventhelp #invention ideas

[strangeocquestions]

Since you have a webcomic (love it btw!) how would someone go about making one? And what if I uhhh don't have any artistic talent? I really wanna make one but I can't draw ;~;

Super happy to know you like my comic, thanks! 

I actually waited 4-5 years until I felt comfortable enough with my artstyle to start working on my webcomic. Insomniac Kids has been a project I’ve been planning to begin ever since I was 11 (though it did start out as a Gravity Falls AU/fanmade season 2) but I only began feeling confident enough to present this story to the internet in 2018 and-... Even after that, I still went on long hiatus and eventually changed my comic’s artstyle completely to the current one, which I am very satisfied with. (I still need to work on anatomy and perspective, but if I’m ever too unhappy with a specific panel I put it on a list of panels I want to re-do in the future) 

I really do not recommend starting to work on a project you are genuinely passionate about if you don’t feel comfortable enough with your own capacities. You won’t be happy with the results, which will negatively impact your work.

 If you absolutely want to go the drawing route just practice until you feel confident in your skills. This will probably take time, but you’ll get there.

But there are some good news! You don’t actually need to draw well if you find an appealing style to present your story in.

17776 is technically what one would call a “web original”, though many refer to it as a webcomic (myself included). This work gathered a healthy fanbase while also not really using many drawings. Most of the story is presented through text and edited images, gifs and videos. (find some more web originals here: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/WebOriginalFiction)

Khonjin House is a funny and chaotic web series on Youtube that is not so much about the artwork as it is about the careful editing and comedic dialogue. Although it’s a video-based series the same style could easily be applied to a webcomic.

There are many more successful projects like these out there that you can find, though these were the first to come to mind. I’d say visual media is more about style than anything else. If you find a style that works, you can be successful. 

You can also see how masterful artwork can fail miserably if not stylized and developed enough. For instance, the “live action” Lion King remake. The CGI models were very carefully developed and they look quite good, but there’s life missing out of them.

Outside of that, general advice on creating a webcomic?

If you plan on making it interactive like my own you’ll need both some coding knowledge as well as someplace where you’re free to code shit at will. I use Tumblr to host my webcomic because I can freely code my comic... But it’s still not perfect, so I plan on buying a subscription to a hosting server so that I’ll have full freedom. Of course, this being a paid alternative, I also need to start planning towards ways to profit off my work.

If I didn’t want to pay shit I’d have to create my own server, which involves paying the government to let me have a fixed home IP and a computer which is connected to the internet 24/7 (because. uh. the computer would be the actual server).

If you have no budget or means of profit, you’ll be stuck with third-hosting parties.

Alternatively, if your webcomic is more of the traditional sort, there are many free-to-use websites where you can post your stuff in. Tapas being one of the most popular ones, though far from the only one. I recommend reading the terms of use before posting anything on these sites though...  You may not want to share copyright over your creation with some random company. 

And also, assuming the webcomic would be in English, whether you’re a native English speaker or not (but especially if you’re not, like myself), get some friends who are good at writing to spell-check your writing. My own spell checkers are my good friends @seriouslyuninjured and @thesunmoonhavecomeout and I love them very much for withstanding my inadequate use of in/on/at/by

That’s the best advice I can give, if you ask me anything more specific I’ll be very happy to answer too!

#long post

[maxg-longform]

Outer Wilds

A new frontier for the interactive experience

Moments in gaming which are truly ground-breaking are rare, and they are only getting rarer. A dual axiom of diminishing technological returns achieved by the jumps between console generations and the rampant predatory monetisation of the games as a service modal have had many despairing and looking to games that denounce photorealism and market trends for inspiration , in much the same way those in the art world despaired at the first cameras. As they could no longer make art more detailed technically, meaning and artistry moved from technique to statement. Why is it not photorealistic? The question posed today is the same. You could make a game that is an accurate reflection of life – or a biased reflection of a certain kind of life (Military-industrial complex funded shooters I’m looking at you) – so why have you chosen to instead create something with a particular art style? What is the combination of your narrative and design choices trying to say? 

In the case of Far Cry 5, when particular attention is paid to the fact that the cultists are under the influence of drugs for the game’s entirety in addition to Obsidian’s claims that their new game concerning corporate exploitation of space colonies is written apolitically with empathetic and ‘good’ characters on both sides, the aim is all too often to actively stop you from drawing any meaningful conclusion at all, or at the very least to give the impression that there is nothing to draw.

What is the aim of this spiel then? In reality, you don’t need context to enjoy Outer Wilds, but only within the nexus of the modern games industry can you see why I’ve grown to love it so much. It also lets me talk about the game in more abstract terms without spoiling it – as it is very hard not to spoil it in talking about it, as knowledge is the only progression system within the game. The game itself, mechanically, is very stripped back. You have a spaceship to explore the solar system with, a spacesuit with thrusters for exploring each of the planets you can land on, and a translation device, which allows you to understand the language of an ancient alien race which inhabited the solar system many years prior. The story orients you as the first of your race to explore the stars with this new translation device. Explorers has previously visited each planet in the solar system, but contact with them has been lost, and they cannot translate the language there. Your objective, insofar as you are given one, is to find them and learn about the ancient aliens. In an age where open-world games have quest markers and some, such as Skyrim, have a spell which paints a trail on the ground in the direction of the next objective, the handhold-free nature of Outer Wilds is charming and arresting.

Whenever you discover anything important, it is stored in your ship’s log at the back of your small spaceship. In a way, it reminded me of Morrowind, one of Skyrim’s forebears, with the journal giving hints as to where you ought to look, but no real help beyond collating what you already know so that you can easily reference it in future. You are free to explore any of the planets at any point, and follow any lines of inquiry you see fit. In a lesser game, this would lead to a disjointed narrative experienced so out of order that it would give Tarantino a headache. However, this leads me into talking about the level design. I could not laud any higher the way in which the planets are designed. Every planet has a dynamic twist to it you need to learn in order to be able to understand how to access information on it and each planet has areas that require you to piece together learnings from around the solar system in order to access. In every sense, the game rewards exploration and understanding as a means of progress, rather than giving you new tools and telling you how to use them. This is evident in each of the planet designs – which I will briefly explain in the order I visited them (there is no ‘proper’ order).

 Giant’s Deep 

 A swirling, green water planet with four islands, which are continually tossed around by an endless stream of cyclones which make the planet hard to navigate. The pole is protected by a ferociously large cyclone and a strong current prevents underwater exploration of a porous, but fiercely electromagnetic core. The sheer size and oppressive atmosphere is compounded by the strong gravity making it almost impossible to jump, incentivising careful exploration.

 Brittle Hollow

A hollow planet built around a black hole and beset by fiery meteors from its volcanic moon. With an inhospitable surface, much of the challenge comes from discovering how others adapted to these conditions previously, and how to use the gravity of the black hole to navigate a planet that slowly falls apart and disintegrates as the game goes on due to the constant meteor bombardment.

 The Wanderer

A frozen comet with an elliptical orbit that takes it within a lethal range of the sun, and covered in mysterious ‘ghost matter.’

 The Hourglass Twins

Two planets orbiting each other as they orbit the sun. One starts as a bare rock with many caves to explore; the other as a perfectly round desert planet, with absolutely zero to explore. Then, a large column of sand starts flowing through space from the desert planet ‘Ash Twin’ to the bare one, ‘Ember Twin.’ This means areas of each planet are only accessible at certain times, and you need to beware of the sand level when exploring caves.

 Dark Bramble

A planet consisting purely of thorny branches wrapped around a core that pulses with white light. Enter the hole, and caverns that bend the laws of space and time fill massive areas within. A Tardis of horrors, this planet scared me like no jump scares could. A truly eerie vibe – a memorable and haunting level unlike anything I’d ever played before.

 While every one of these planets is in its own way unique and memorable, as are the moments when you discover how to access parts of them you couldn’t before – the best example of the game’s genius comes in the form of a location known as the Quantum moon. Before you go to this location, there are three pieces of key knowledge you need. Without them, you shouldn’t even be able to land on it. Nevertheless, I accidentally managed to land on it early in the game. However, because I hadn’t yet solved how to get into the tower of Quantum knowledge on Brittle Hollow, I didn’t understand how to access where I wanted to go. The moon has a secretive ‘Sixth Location’ you wish to explore, but every time I tried to leave the control room, the way was blocked by rocks until the moon moved back to one of the five locations in our solar system. It wasn’t until a few hours later, when I was following a different lead on another planet that I figured out how to avoid the rocks, and also where I needed to go once I had made it out.

The game is filled with eureka moments, and the lack of handholding makes you feel like you have genuinely accomplished something when you solve a puzzle. For example, I discovered a much quicker shortcut to a key area called the Black Hole Forge. The game doesn’t penalise you for this; much of the beauty of the game comes in the journey. Translating the alien scriptures in each area contains hints as to the overarching story – which I won’t in any way spoil, except that it is moving, inspiring and heart-breaking in equal measure – but also contains deeply personal stories about the people who made these structures, these homes, these technologies. The tension among the clan as they tried debated their plans to achieve what they came to our solar system for. The romance and feeling amongst those who worked on their projects. The jubilation of breakthroughs and the let-downs of defeat. The struggle for life and the joys of overcoming the hostile worlds of the system. The heart-wrenching story of the Quantum moon. All pieced together in bitesize chunks, out of sequence, displaced. Abstractions anthropomorphised because we don’t know enough about them to truly contextualise them. You never even find out what these aliens looked like. But you discover their hopes, their aims, their dreams and their death – as you, the traveller from an antique land, stare at the vast and trunkless legs of stone.

Rather purposefully, I have been abstract in my descriptions and generalised the experience. In a game where knowledge is the means of progression, and real detail would be a spoiler, and its best to come into this game blind. So, I’ve chosen to focus on the feeling the game instils in you. It has a charming art direction, understated yet distinctive music that complements every area perfectly and a real warmth and passion that oozes from every pixel. In a world where every new innovation is immediately copied and run into the ground by every game in the same genre – the camp clearing from Far Cry 3 is now a chore in every vaguely open world game- or climbing the conveniently placed towers to gain map vision a la Assassin’s Creed – or that very same game series doing its very best Witcher 3 impression in Origins and Odyssey – there is an incorruptible heart to Outer Wilds. There will be games inspired by it, no doubt, but there won’t be other games that weaponise knowledge in quite the same way, or use it to explore the same themes. It’s a game about futility, about facing death but choosing to explore and challenge yourself and improve and, most importantly, to enjoy the little things and cherish the detail, to find pieces of light in that endless, futile dark.  

Games like this have always been few and far between, and are becoming even rarer now. That’s why it’s essential we cherish games like Outer Wilds. There is no formula for creating a masterpiece but when a game really connects with you, you know it, you feel it. My list of favourite games I’d consider a masterpiece is quite incongruent – SSX 3, Tony Hawk’s Underground, Assassins Creed 2, Halo 4 to pick out a few of the rather different ones –  but Outer Wilds has topped all of them, and I only spent around 12 hours with it. It strips gaming back to its essentials, while bringing new ideas to the table and presenting them in charming and arresting ways. You will never have another 12 hours like it. Its heart, soul and message are inimitable, and I sincerely urge you to open up to it and give it a try.

10/10

Played on Xbox - the game is available through Xbox Game Pass

@CoreLineage on twitter

#Outer Wilds #Outer #Wilds #Outerwilds #Space #Sci-fi #adventure #skyrim #morrowind #witcher 3 #games #gaming #review #game review #thinkpiece

[ivebeentornapartbefore]

Things I Love About The Airport Fight In Captain America Civil War *SPOILERS*

1)When Peter steals Cap’s shield using his webs, the webs are removed and tie Cap’s hands together. At first glance you couldn’t even tell that there ever was any webs on it. However, when Peter begins to talk to everyone and moves his arms around you can see from the lighting where there are still traces of the webs stuck on it.

2)Peter tells Sam that he has the right to remain silent while he grabs at his face and attempts to attack him.

3)While T’Challa and Cap are fighting, T’Challa takes out his claws and swipes at the shield. Due to his claws and Cap’s shield both being made of vibranium, neither one would break. All that T’Challa’s claws do to the shield is scratch the paint.

4)After Peter webs Sam to the railing he asks if his wings are made of carbon fiber, Sam responds with his own question being if the webs are coming out of Peter. Technically they do come out of him, Peter seems to realize this and assumes that yes Sam’s wings are made of carbon fiber and that that was his way of saying yes they are.

5)Sam tells Peter that there usually isn’t much talking during a fight. Peter apologizes, throws both Sam and Bucky over the railing and proceeds to talk, leaving a chance for Sam to get an attack in on him with Redwing. The exact reason why there isn’t much talking in a fight.

6)Tony claims to Nat that he had been going easy on Cap’s team. He doesn’t plan on going easy anymore after Scott and Cap throw the gas truck at them.

7)Nat quietly hints at her not truly being on Tony’s side, glancing around at Tony’s team, assessing them basically when they’re all lined up. It practically looks like she’s questioning her position on the team. As the 2 teams begin to charge each other she says “This is gonna end well”, however, she never specifies who it will end well for.

8)When T’Challa and Bucky are fighting, Bucky states that he did not kill T’Chaka, that’s the truth. T’Challa responds with the question then why did you run. Bucky was framed for murdering the king of Wakanda in a terrorist attack, a crime that would make people want to kill him. What else would an innocent man do when people accuse him of such a thing and try to kill him for a crime he didn’t commit? HE JUST WANTED SOME GODDAMN PLUMS MAN!

9)Peter can actually be a match for Cap when it comes to strength. If Cap did not use Peter’s webs holding him back to his advantage, that could have went on for a few minutes longer at least, with Peter holding Cap back with nothing but his bare hands.

10)Peter goes for the high ground while fighting Cap.

11)When Cap drops the jet bridge on Peter, it gains a very apparent dent on it, something that many movies I’ve seen forgot about. Gravity pulling down on the bridge and anything pushing up on it would cause a large dent in reality.

12)Scott outing Tony for not consulting his conscious while he’s breaking Tony’s suit.

13)Tony looks genuinely freaked out when Scott outs him, whether it’s because he’s anxious from the fight, he actually thinks Scott is his conscious, or he’s just confused we may never know.

14)Everyone on Cap’s team came to the unanimous decision that if they want to win the fight, many of them would have to lose it.

15)When Scott becomes a giant he also becomes very wobbly and slow. This is very realistic because the new center of gravity would take a moment to get used to, especially if he’s only done it once and passed out. He’s slow because moving through air is similar to moving boxes out of the way. With him being so much bigger now, he has to move more ‘boxes’ several times faster to be able to move at a normal speed. He hasn’t trained in doing that so he can’t move that fast which makes him significantly slower.

16)”Way to go Tic-Tac!”

17)”Give me back my Rhodey.”

18)Vision is mostly watching from the sidelines waiting for someone on Tony’s team to need help or stop Cap’s team from advancing. Only then does he step into the fight.

19)Scott says that if anyone wants to get to his team they have to go through him, Vision takes that very literally.

20)I-I think Clint missed T’Challa...

21)T’Challa does not care who he’s fighting, he’s only there to kill Bucky and he is ready to kill anyone who gets in his way.

22)Movie references that catch assumed criminals from Peter.

23)Nat did say that she would help find Bucky but never did she say that she would catch him. She understood his importance to Cap and the possibility of him actually being innocent.

24)When Rhodey is accidentally shot out of the sky, he doesn’t scream as he falls, just closes his eyes and accepts his fate. It’s a fair reaction from someone who was in the military. As he says later in the movie he flew many missions all of which could of been his last but he survived them all. He didn’t want to die afraid.

25) Sam apologizes for Rhodey being hurt in the fall, in the end they’re all still friends and he still cares about him, even if they are on different sides.

#marvel #captain America #iron man #scarlet witch #spiderman #Hawkeye #black widow #mcu #falcon #winter soldier #war machine #black panther #Steve rogers #Tony stark #Wanda maximoff #Peter Parker #Clint Barton #natasha rominoff #Sam willson #Bucky barnes #James Barnes #rhodey #t'challa #Captain America civil war #civil war

[bonzlydoo]

It's week 5 and we get to design our own characters! How exciting. We were told in our assignment to base our characters off of someone we know, this is because characters tend to come across more genuine when you base them off of real life experiences (Keep that in mind). Before I start I want to repeat something that Don said to us at the start of our lecture. Art is HIGHLY subjective, and there is no right or wrong way to do it... But, whatever you are doing, the style that you chose should not intrude in the story that you are telling. Your style should not distract from the narrative that you are telling. Your style should not draw attention to the fact that your art is drawn. This is in reference to animating short films. For feature films, we were told; "You have to fully immerse your audience in just the storytelling." This is why artists in animation erase the pencil quality in their art, they erase the 'artist's handprint', in animation we tidy up our work. The reason for this is to emphasise the story. It's a little sad, but because people do this in animation it means that the audience is able to completely loose themselves in an animation, believe in the stories, and even forget that what they are watching is an animation for a short time. That's kind of amazing. Writing your character First of all we were given several animals to chose from, then told to caricature them, combining the animal with the personality of someone we know. With a little trial and error, bam, character! We were told to write a full bio of our character (which I have included to the right), including a synopsis of their name, personality, approximate age, fears, wants... all while keeping their original animal in mind, trying to fit that into their personality somehow. It's a useful exercise, and just goes to prove how quickly you can create a believable character. Creating a character turn around Here are a few questions that Don KEPT repeating to us. "Where is your character going?", "What do they want?" he wrote the word 'WANT' in big capital letters across the page. Any active character in a story, especially main characters  should always (in theory) have a definable want, so that they have initiative and direction in a story. "What drives your character?" These are all different ways of saying "What does your character want in life?" Even if they aren't aware of it, you should be as a writer. After the bio we were told to do a full head turn (which I think I've improved on since last time). In this way we are building a reference of our characters from all angles. Here are a few tips I've learned while making character turn arounds. 1) Use basic shapes when drawing your character. Using this character as an example, the head  and hair bun shapes are built on a basic circles, the neck is made out of basic pipe shapes, the hair can be broken down into measurable negative and positive jagged shapes. Know how many heads tall your character is, and keep that consistent. Doing this is crucial if you plan to animate your character. You MUST understand the shapes that make them up so that you can recreate them consistently. Consistency is key. 2) Draw lines across the page to keep your character consistent, the nose will ALWAYS match up with the line for the nose (at any angle) when you are drawing a neutral character turn around. The eyes will ALWAYS match up with the eye line, the crook of the neck, the hair, everything. In short, TRUST IN THE MATHS. The same goes for proportions, if you study old anatomy drawings. The universe is made by following some basic rules of maths, perspective can be deconstructed mathematically, this doesn't mean you have to know any equations, instead just keep in mind that there will always be a measurable pattern that a 2D image rotates to fake 3D space. Trust the maths! 3) Make sure your character makes sense anatomically, and is believable from every angle. It is a popular trend in animation sometimes  to draw a form that only makes sense from one or two angles (The most obvious example that I can think of for this is Phineas and Ferb). This is not always desirable. Don emphasised in our class that an animator/designer should understand how the anatomy/shapes of the character fall together at any angle. Animation needs structure. Think in 360 degrees and you will be a better animator. Drawing character expressions Don is a classic artist, and he absolutely swears by the concept "A good pose needs a clear line of action". I'm coming to understand that CLARITY, and READABILITY are the absolute key desirable qualities of any animation. You want a clear pose, not a disjointed one. Consider how fast an animation frame goes by. If your key pose only lasts for a brief second, you need it to be as easily readable as possible. Having a strong line of action in your animation, one that carries the emotion of your character and helps communicate that emotion (or personality) clearly is a must. The reason this quality is equally desirable in model sheets, is because we use model sheets as reference for our future animations. A model sheet should be the ultimate example of the quality that is to be expected from the animation. As mentioned before, using construction lines (i.e. the circle for the head) is a crucial habit to get in to. Even if you are drawing an exaggerated expression, the fetures will always proportionately fall into the shape of that circle. Sometimes we 'squash' or 'stretch features, and that construction circle may squash and stretch with it, but even so, the circle is still there under your character, and the proportions still fall in line with the way that the circle squashes and stretches. Always try to find a good silhouette in your pose. Avoid things like 'stacking' limbs and 'twinning' when you draw. I will explain what these things mean. 'Stacking' is what happens when you draw one limbs that overlap each other, i.e if you have a bunny and if you draw their ears in a way that obscures the silhouette, and makes it less clear. As mentioned before, you need your image to be a easy to read as possible, a good, strong, clear silhouette is key for this. 'Twinning' is what happens when you have two limbs mimicking each other, i.e if both arms are up and in the same pose. Try making those arms at slightly different angles or heights. This tends to make the drawing a little more interesting to look at. Remember, subtle asymmetry is appealing. Body language. Be aware of the balance of your character (where the centre of gravity is). Also be aware of the age and gender of your character. Characters have different body language at different ages. For the centre of gravity, be aware of where most of your character's weight falls, and how this affects the rest of the body, a good example for hit is, for girls the weight tends to be in the hips, for boys, the torso and upper body. Because of this, boys tend to find their balance, or even stand up from a seeted position in a different way than girls do (pay attention to this next time you are with your friends). This next point is more about character design than anything else. If your character is inspired by another, make sure that your design has something that makes it UNIQUELY DIFFERENT than any of the characters you can think of from the media you like. You want your character to stand out and be memorable,  so find something that helps them be more memorable. T-T-T-T- That's all folks! I'll write to you all again next week with the things I learn.

- I am also on — [Instagram] | [Twitter] | [Deviantart]

#don bluth university

[kpopandcream]

Hand Print - Act III, Part II

Pairing: ReaderxWooseok.

Genre: Angst.

Warnings: Dark themes, Foul Language, Implied Smut,

You greatly believed in the strength of togetherness. When together, nothing could rip you apart. You knew this. You were so much stronger with him and so much happier too. He caused so much good, wrapped you so tightly in a cocoon that you forgot what it was like to not feel safe. A knife to that silk was all it took to rip you out of his home.

Word Count: 6.1k

Play: Act 1, Act 2, Act 3-Part I, Act 3-Part II

Masterlist

Act 3, Scene 5: Breath

Hwitaek handed you the mail from the foot of your door as he walked past you in the hallway to the dinner table. His mouth worked while you flipped through the junk mail and promotions to find the bills, eyes glued to the papers between your fingers. You followed slowly after him, nodding to show you were listening through a fair bit of it was going over your head.

“... but he said we could plan out another time to meet so I’m not worried. While we’re on a break, I want to spend time with you.”

You picked your head up from the mail to meet his eyes, sweet and expectant and shining like he’d just said the kindest thing ever. With a light smile, he took his seat across from you and you tossed the mail to the far side of the table, willing to dedicate yourself to the conversation.

“Me too,” you murmured lightly. He began uncovering the dishes you set out for dinner when you hummed, “but you do need to see your friends too.”

“I never say I wouldn’t.” His voice was steady but he didn’t look at you and it caused your lips to press together cautiously.

“I just don’t want to make it- make you feel trapped.” You hoped to stop the quiver in your voice, switching spots as you now grabbed dinner and he grabbed salad.

“That’s not what it feels like, y/n,” he huffed, head notching to the side as he spoke, “why is this always an argument with you?”

Halfway between picking up your utensils, you sighed and placed them down brashly. Giving him a stern look and straightening, off-put by the way he pronounced your name, you said, “we’re not arguing, Hwitaek.”

He simply clicked his tongue, muttering something under his breath as he began to eat. His head faced down and his movements were sharp in the citric lighting, eliciting a ‘what?’ from you.

“I said I’m not you, y/n,” he repeated, emphasizing your name again. The two of you hardly referred to each other with your legal names, finding them distant. Neither of you related to the sentiment behind them, Hwi even genuine wanting to change it, so you refrained from it. Rather than feeling personal when you said each other’s names, you were both so unattached to them that it felt more like an insult.

From that, to the poison in his voice, and to the way he used your past as a weapon against you, you found yourself hurt. He must have seen this on your face, his features melting as his mouth opened. “That’s not-”

“Eat by yourself,” you muttered, taking the napkin from your lap and throwing it beside your plate. The scraping of the chair against the floor as you got up from your seat resembled metal scratching metal.

“Ba- babe, please,” he seemed to plead, getting up after you and following you to the door. You were slipping on your winter boots when he placed his hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you around.

“Leave me alone,” you spat, shifting in order to get out from under his touch. This caused a flash of hurt in his eyes, hand falling to his side. You stared at one another for a brief moment, a scowl deep on your face and something so unsure on his lips. You watched as he took a step back, straightening his jaw and squaring his shoulders, body rigid.

Before he turned away from you, he muttered bitterly, “why do you always run away?”

You didn’t follow his retreating figure, sick of chasing after people and wanting someone to chase after you just once. You stood at the front for long enough to hear him start cleaning the table. When you stepped out, shutting the door behind you, you heard a muffled yell and distant shattering. It was only imaginable what a mess you two must have looked like: your eyes squeezed shut and back pressed against the door while he huffed over a counter and gripped the edge of it. The sinking of your stomach was the only thing you could feel, the chill and grey clouds completely insignificant. You loved him, you did, but sometimes you wondered if it was even worth it.

Act 3, Scene 6: Dive 

The door was tugged open the moment you removed your keys from your pocket. Hwitaek looked at you cautiously, eyeing your long coat and your face as if to see if anything had happened; and then, he slung his arms around your waist and relaxed immensely. The breath he held was released immediately past your ear and his body formed around yours like it belonged there. Taking steps forward, you moved inside, foot closing the door behind you as you walked into your shared apartment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, kissing the top of your head before you angled your chin up to look at him.

“It was my fault,” you murmured, hands trailing up to rest between his shoulder blades. Staring into those thickly protected eyes of his when you first met, you never would’ve guessed what you could see now. There was sadness and regret and such frailty that made you press yourself closer into him at the shake of his head.

“No, I- I shouldn’t have said what I said. It’s unfair to you and I hate that it came to my mind because you told me that in confidence. I shouldn’t have used it against you.” He sounded so serious and it was scary how he could read your mind like that. He knew exactly why you were upset and though his apologies weren’t extravagant, they were what you needed to hear.

Leaning up, you pressed your lips to his and hummed, “it’s okay.”

When you rested your head on his chest, you heard the soft beating of his heart and tried to match yours to it. He wrapped himself tighter around you, creating a home for himself. The two of you sat in a heavy silence for a few moments, minds racing. The mixed cologne and food still lingering on his shirt, the closing of your eyes, the steadiness of his heart beat against your ear: they all overwhelmed you for reasons he didn’t understand.

That much was obvious from his reaction when you started crying. He took it well enough though, apologizing and asking if you wanted your favourite tea and looking frantic as he ran around for something to comfort you. You were somehow on the couch with him, head on his chest and clutching him so tightly as you reclined. He asked you what was wrong but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The guilt of wanting someone else weighed down on you and the more you thought of it, the more you wanted to be alone. Yet, the more you wanted to be alone, the more you wanted to be with Hwitaek.

He placed little kisses into your forehead and relieved the stress in your hands by holding them. He took care of you like no one ever had and you needed that. You needed him despite all things. That only made you hurt more.

“I love you,” he said so quietly, you would have missed it if you weren’t paying attention. It wasn’t the first he’d ever said it but these words were few and far between, adding so much weight to the times where he would confess to you. Every time he said it, the more you were torn in half and the more you wanted to let him go for is own good.

Looking up at him through watered eyes, you caught the gravity in his eyes and were compelled to say it back. The lightness of the smile and the thumb that ran under your eyes caused the first solidifying of your heart, as if he was gluing back together what you’d destroyed when you were with Wooseok, though he knew nothing of it.

“How about we watch a shitty movie and eat in bed?” Hwi suggested, giving you a hopeful look. He was really doing his best, never knowing how to deal with anyone crying but always trying his hardest.

This caused you to nod before you shifted upwards to kiss him again and again. There wasn’t an urgency in this but that didn’t mean it lacked any sort of passion and somehow, you felt a blossoming in your stomach. You hated to admit it but you thrived around him and everywhere his hands touched you meant new flowers were planted in your skin. It was beautiful and yet sad because most gardens died in the winter and you were nearing the end of fall.

“I’ll make some popcorn,”he chimed, getting up and moving towards the kitchen. You stayed on the couch, unmoving and missing his warmth. You used your elbow to prop you up and watched him walk into the next room.

The teal of his sweater and the white t-shirt peeking out from under contrasted so nicely with his skin. His jeans were cuffed, suiting him in ways that made every pair of jeans you saw like that remind you of him. His hair was growing out, though the undercut was still there, and the top part that shifted as he moved his head was a fading tan. When he turned to tell you to get dressed for bed, the curve of his lips was outlined by the light and it made you smile.

“Yeah, I’m going,” you hummed, waving him away and sniffling lightly. His teeth were put on display as his lips parted over them and he looked so encouraged before disappearing fully around the corner.

Slowly getting up, you studied the house. From where you were, you could hear Hwitaek in the kitchen, opening a floor to ceiling cabinet he really wanted to get from whatever furniture store you’d gone in to buy some of your essentials. The whole place came more or less furnished and it explained the odd extravagance of it. The couch was a deep teal and plump, but always so comfortable. Hwi laid thin covers on top of it and called the style bohemian when you first moved in, looking very proud of himself. Every part of this house had Hwi and you mixed into it. Where he took the couch, you took the coffee table in front of it. Where he painted the walls in the living room, you painted the walls in bathroom and bedroom. Everything was even and it looked well put together. You couldn’t deny you were proud.

The living room bled into the dining room, which was open and had a basic deep brown wooden table paired with an odd looking vase and some fake flowers as the centrepiece. The vase depicted a man holding a picture which had the man holding the same picture and so on and so forth. Hwi had picked it up from a weird shop off the street. You thought it was comically wonderful and structured very well and so, there it stood. You could look around and find a story behind everything and, as you walked through the dining room and made a right to get to the kitchen, you felt the slightest bit filled.

“By the way,” he called over the shifting of plates and raising his voice much louder than it needed to be, “I talked to Hyojong. I’m going to see him on Thursday.”

“That sounds great,” you said, unenthusiastically . Peeking around the corner to the kitchen, you listened to him speak and admired how at home he looked.

“We’re going to Jinho’s and the rest should be there too. They’re all bringing someone so I thought you might want to come.” He still spoke as if you were in the bedroom, far from him. You hummed lightly, wrapping your arms around his thinning waist and resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“Okay,” was all you said. Hwitaek, who paused for the slightest moment when you hugged him, still went about his business, moving with you in step to grab a bowl for the popcorn. The bag was resting in the microwave, flat and smeared with butter. When he closed the door to the microwave and pressed a few buttons to get it started, you saw his smile grow in the reflection of the door.

“What happened to getting dressed for bed? The movie?”

You shrugged, nestling closer to him. You sniffled when you breathed still but being with him like this was something you found yourself enjoying. It was light and free and when he turned to face you and brushed your hair out of your face, you saw yourself melting into him. His fingers fixed strands behind your ear as you murmured that it wasn’t important what you were going to do. He raised his eyebrows, not the least surprised but teasing you and you enjoyed it. As you leaned further into him and his lips pressed to yours, you wanted to build a home here. You’d spent two years with him and now, finally now, you were ready to bring that dream of having a home be a person into reality.

You got lost in this kiss that, when the microwave went off, you both jumped. His hands moved to open the door, to shut up the stupid machine so you could just stay the way you were but it didn’t work. He ended up swiping the stack of mail that he’d moved to the counter off the marble and you snickered, watching him get frustrated.

Picking up the mail while he muttered about how nothing goes his way, you smiled at his antics. He could be a child sometimes but it was funny nonetheless. In the stack of bills and promotions, you caught a deep blue envelope and picked it out among the rest. You inspected it, turning it over but it seemed so ordinary. The brand wasn’t fancy, the paper was thin as well as the letter it enclosed. There was nothing special about it and yet, you didn’t set it aside.

“Do you know what this is?” you asked offhandedly, though it had your name on the receiving stamp. Hwi was behind you now but he fit his head perfectly on your shoulder and shrugged. The bowl was hot and near your side, the feeling almost uncomfortable.

“No idea.”

You hummed, picking at the sticker. Half of you didn’t want to open it, the feeling in your stomach building ridiculously and you felt the nausea threatening to come about. The other half, compelled by Hwi’s suggestion, peeled the sticker from the bottom and flicked the flap up. Upon seeing the words written in a perfectly typed cursive, you felt you were right in being nauseous. You held it back and closed the envelope with shaking hands.

“Babe?” Hwitaek’s voice sounded far away. “Who’s Wooseok?”

“Please don’t say his name,” you whispered, leaning to put the envelope back on the counter. It nearly slipped off but rested precariously on the edge. You nearly felt the discontent in Hwi’s voice as he spoke, setting down the popcorn bowl.

“Is that him?”

The question was quiet but heavy and you didn’t know what him he was referring to. Any him was a him you didn’t want to remember, especially this man who creeped into your dreams and suffocated you with the way he wanted to love you- with the way he did love you.

You were unmoving and it gave Hwi the only answer he needed. He sighed lightly and there was a pause, like he was deciding what to do. You didn’t look at much of the letter, none of it but the first line. You knew the handwriting from the start but the name he used, the one that swallowed your heart confirmed it. Then his name in a cliche, ‘it’s me’ statement. As if you wouldn’t already know, like you hadn’t spent hours pouring over the lyrics he once wrote in countless journals, on napkins at dinner, on your arm when there was nothing but the pen in his pocket. As if you weren’t captivated by his use of anything but your name in the introduction. As if you needed him to say who he was so everything could tear down again- everything you tried so hard to built and so hard to forget.

While you were upset, you were confused. After all this time, all these two years of radio silence? You hadn’t called him. You hadn’t been ready and you doubted you ever would be. You could change but you were scared if you could change for him or if you would fall back into that sickening pattern that you hated yourself for- that you cried over every day remembering it. He said not to call him, not to do anything unless you were ready. Did this mean he was ready?

Your mind spun faster than straw into gold and it was hard to keep up. The only stabilizing thing was Hwitaek, who picked up the popcorn bowl from before and walked towards the room. He had paused in the dining room to look at you, eyes kind but sheltered, hiding. Your fingers were still shaking but you let them come into his when he outstretched his arm. His smile was soft and lit up his face until his cheeks, resting there like a setting sun.

“Want to still watch that movie?”

You nodded, wordless and nauseous and feeling like hell. What you needed was to be in bed and held, by anyone who was willing to give it to you. Deep down, you were glad it was Hwi, knowing he would take your mind off Wooseok for long enough for you to fall asleep. He rubbed his thumb down yours in warm circles and talked as if nothing happened and you let yourself fall into it, wanting not to remember anything but the future you planned- the one that was comfortable and simple and effortless. The one without him.

Act 3, Scene 7: Don’t Leave Me

As expected, most of the guests at the small dinner party Hwi spoke about flopped. It was funny making bets on who would show up though. The bets went horribly, everyone’s patterns really erratic and unpredictable except one. Hyojong was always a given, seeing as he was always free and hardly made time for anything but his friends. The bet with him was if he’d really bring a date, which he did once and you owed Hwi quite a lot of favours for it but that was worth it for the both of you at the end of the day. Besides, you won tonight, saying it would be Hyojong and Shinwon who showed up.

Hwi offered to pay up immediately, being in a good mood that night. You could tell from the way he slipped his hands between your thighs and slid the material of your dress up higher under the table. You would have generally been upset about this, wondering what the waiter would think or his friends if they found out but the twinkle in his eyes was convincing enough. You smiled and played off most of his other advances, making his arm retreat to the back of your chair, where his fingers ran shapes into your shoulder. The action wasn’t enough to be dramatically romantic but you found yourself never wanting him to stop.

Hyojong’s laugh was sweet that night, hitting your ear like a chord strummed right. Your smile mimicked his, loud and wide, and the whole table followed his lead. Your bodies shook with laughter, absolutely caught in his odd sense of humour and captured by his presence. Those tired eyes of his were wide and alert and he seemed to have come alive, more than usual tonight. You wondered what had happened but didn’t ask, thinking it too personal for the casual dinner. You were glad to see he was enjoying himself but more so happy to see Hwitaek beaming, genuinely happy outside of home and work.

You had been living together for a year and friends for two before and he had always been a homebody. He was a sucker for domesticity and it showed when he said he wanted to stay home and cook with you, watch movies, or listen to music in bed while napping. Sometimes, you missed the adventure of the past, where you would stay out until four in the morning with friends or where you wouldn’t spend more than a day home consecutively. It was exciting but sometimes, you looked forward to having someone to come home to and having a heart to lay beside yours. Though, the both of you were graduating from your second degree soon, Hwitaek being a year ahead of you, and he was looking for jobs that meant he’d float and go abroad and be on business trips. This scared you, knowing things would change between you but you didn’t want it to. You wanted to stay here, at this table, in this moment, where adulthood didn’t have a chance of catching up with you at all.

“Okay, god, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” Hyojong groaned, cheeks red. You watched him throw down his napkin on the table and get up, Shinwon following closely after.

He flashed his phone at you and Hwi, saying lightly, “I need to make a quick call. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Alright,” Hwi chimed while you leaned forward, propping your head up with your chin resting on your palm. You raised your eyebrows quickly, moving them up and down with a devilish grin. Shinwon gave you a slightly uncomfortable look while you did so, knowing what you were insinuating but you said it nonetheless.

“Yeah, you get that date with your boss, Won. We’re rooting for you.”

He flushed the lightest bit, contrasting with the black turtleneck he was wearing. He fixed his jean jacket on top of his thick sweater and clicked his tongue, trying to play off that he was embarrassed as he walked away. Shinwon might have murmured something but you had turned to Hwi and suddenly, he was the only thing that mattered.

His eyes were on you, looking at you so lovingly and you could practically tell what he was thinking. The two of you were so akin, knowing the other without skipping a beat and it was so comforting for you to know he thought you fit in well with his friends. It was important to him. His friends had gotten him through everything, from school to the loss of his parents. It was because of this that you tried so hard around them, wanting to be liked.

You pressed your hand against his cheek, leaning in closer. The chiming of your bracelets as they hit each other died out and he took his chance to speak, covering your wrist with his fingers.

“I’m happy,” he hummed, so soft and only for you to hear, “thank you for suggesting we do this.”

Leaning in, you placed a sweet kiss on his lips. The hand that was on the back of your chair came to your head, holding you in place for a moment and leaning into you again. It made you smile, not knowing what you did to deserve this treatment. There was something heavy in the way he kissed, like it meant so much more than he wanted it to look like it did and you could feel it in the way he took the air from your lungs when you pulled away.

“What?” You laughed a bit, looking at him almost as if he had constellations in his irises, “why are you being so sweet?”

“Are you saying I’m not always this sweet?” His eyebrows arch up, so playful and kind, contrasted with the edge of his chin and the strength of his cheekbones.

You simply shook your head but leaned in again and felt a familiar leap in your chest. The heart you didn’t think would beat again for anyone else seemed to thump once, heavy and skipping its regular routine. This excited you, giving you hope that there was something more than the bitterness you felt and the comfortability- the stagnancy of an unexceptional relationship. There was more out there from Hwi, something more you couldn’t tap into yet but you wanted to. You desperately wanted to see what more he had hidden, underneath those layers of skin and protected hearts that he gave to you but never in whole. He had been holding back, especially since you heard of Wooseok again and you received the letter, which you hadn’t read yet.

Since the letter, you had erupted. Whatever you were trying to hold back from Hwi was revealed and you told him everything, who Wooseok was, what you’d done, the mistakes you made even when you and Hwi had met. He braced it for you, wiping away whatever tears came to your eyes and asking for you to continue but you could tell it bothered him. He felt you were torn between him and Woo, explicitly telling you this. Both of you knew it was true and it hurt his pride. The words he said that night though, they stuck. They forced the wheels of change to turn again, asking you to be better and you wanted to rise to the challenge.

He looked at you just a few days after getting the letter, the both of you in bed. You were undressed, lying on top of him and drawing clouds into his bare chest and up his collarbone. He had moved the blanket down so far that it covered just the bottom of you but the way his fingers ran up and down the indent of your spine filled you with enough warmth. It was quiet but he hummed lowly, drawing your attention from his skin to his face. He didn’t stop his movements but he looked hesitant, like he couldn’t bear to ask what he was going to and yet, asking it anyways.

“Have you been in love with him this whole time?”

Tearing your eyes from his stare, you paused and thought about what to say. Nothing substantial came to mind, keeping your mind quiet. It wasn’t a yes and, then again, it wasn’t a no. This was enough for him to nod, fingers hypnotizing and homely as they continued their slow journey up and down the curves of your bone.

“That’s okay,” he whispered so silently, trying to hide his disappointment at the answer but it was almost as if he expected it. The way he looked at you was understanding and this attitude, the one that accepted all of you this way hurt because you didn’t deserve someone this sweet to you.

“I’m not mad now but if you want this- us- to continue, you have to stop. I didn’t want to waste the time we’ve had together. It hasn’t been a waste; but I don’t want to share you. Don’t make me.”

You nodded, splaying your hands across his chest and creating a place for you to rest your chin without poking into him. He adjusted to sit up slightly and look at you properly. His fingers came up and brushed the hair behind your ear, the gravity in every movement and every word said not missed.

“Please don’t make me leave,” he breathed, broken and resilient and your heart shattered. He was hurt, the look in his eyes so innocent and discouraged. It sparked water to spill from yours and you nodded again.

As you leaned up to kiss him, you knew he meant he would leave if you didn’t stop. The threat wasn’t forgotten and you let him know that you were serious. You were going to try for him now, as best as you could.

So, being at dinner with him and his friends was you trying to come full circle and trying to grow- trying to be better. Telling his friends stories about him, letting them in on the world you’d closed them out of for a long time and seeing Hwi beam brighter than the sun, these all made it worth it, Watching him was enough to make you sure that you could try, just as long as nothing more happened. You wanted to focus on him and no one else and you were going to do your best. Though, you supposed there are always other plans in motion.

Act 3, Scene 8: Walking In Time

The house was near silent as you padded down your hallways. Hwi had woken up, asked you where you were going as you gently tossed the blankets off you. he wasn’t totally coherent but you knew he could hear you. All you had to do was lean in and give him a quiet kiss, murmuring something about being thirsty. He wouldn’t complain, only turn around and go back to sleep. That was what he did, though he kissed you back just a bit stronger than usual. You wondered if that meant he would stay awake until you climbed back into bed but, when you walked back in, fingers shaking with a cup and letter in hand, you found him sprawled once more. He was dead asleep, small snores coming up through his throat.

Usually, it would annoy you but tonight was different. You needed to be alone, finding the eerily silent house, filled with only breathing, a comfort. Desperately, you needed to be alone. You needed to unwrap this letter. You needed to know what exactly had ripped the strings that so tightly strangled you and kept you together. You needed to know why and where and how- how did he find you and why now? 

Fingers still shaking, long thin cardigan trailing behind you as you walked, you mulled it over. Why was it that you couldn’t just be comfortable? Why did he have to come in and ruin everything? He said you ruined things, that you were the problem, but it seemed that whenever you were happy- whenever you were trying to just move on and live a mediocre life- he came right back. you teetered between anger and an unknown excitement that bubbled in your chest. Even after all this time, after all of your mistakes, you were still excited to see him. It was ridiculous.

Slowly pulling out a chair at the dining room table, you took your time unravelling the letter. The sticker taping the front shut came off easier than the first time, losing its stickiness to the air in your kitchen. The flap opened and slowly, meticulously, you picked up the letter. A small part of you wished to bring it closer to your nose, to see if the scent of him was still on the paper. You didn’t particularly need to though, knowing everything about this was him. From top to bottom, it was Wooseok and it hurt.

Sunflower, 

It’s me, Wooseok. Is it weird for me to still call you sunflower? I’m sorry if it is. I’m just trying to write as authentically as I can.

I know I said that you should call me when you’re ready. I said it the last two times we broke up and yet, it seems to be me reaching out every time. Funny, isn’t it? Or is that irony? I don’t know, you were always better at the language stuff.

What I actually want to say is that I was told to write a few things to the people who have wronged me. I started seeing a therapist and they said that maybe I’m so troubled by a lot of things because I haven’t let them go so, here I am. Trying to let it go. I don’t know where to start though. Should I start at the beginning or only when it started to hurt? No, I think I’ll start from when I was happy. Yeah. There.

Okay, I just want to say that I don’t think you ever made me truly unhappy until after we broke up. Before then, like I said, I was always, always happy. Sure, we fought and we got jealous and we stormed out on each other but it felt okay because we apologized. We came back to each other. We loved each other. I think that’s why I took it so hard when we broke up. I didn’t get it because I didn’t get what I did wrong.

I get now that it’s not about people doing anything wrong. You just didn’t feel it was going anywhere, that you had manipulated me and, honestly, maybe you did. I don’t know what the signs are like and I haven’t been able to pinpoint them. But I think what made me upset was that there was no closure. You never gave me an explanation until the second time around and I was too childish to just listen to you and talk it out. Maybe I was just afraid of getting hurt though, maybe you were pushing me. I feel like I’ll maybe never know.

The thing is that I still don’t feel like I have closure. I never have and I never will, I fear. Although, talking about it has made me feel better. even writing this feels good, you know? I’m moving forward and I want you to know that. I’m not trying to get you back with this. In fact, I feel like it’s more of a goodbye, maybe. Not forever but just until I get better because really, I want to see you. I want to know how you’re doing. I want you to know I’m not mad at you.

When everything’s okay, when we fix ourselves, I hope we find our ways back to each other as friends. Until then, I hope you’re well. My phone number hasn’t changed so, there’s always that. So, yeah. See you soon, maybe.

- Wooseok.

P.s: I heard about Hwitaek and you moving in together. Vernon doesn’t seem to approve but Jisoo’s kinda proud of you. Says you’re growing up. How’s that going? I hope well. And I hope you’re still close with Jisoo and Heeji. I think they might miss you. Don’t make Hwi your whole world. Go out, be happy, work. Make your life like you told me to make mine.

Tear drops dried into the paper, your throat closing in on itself. You couldn’t decide a single thing about how you felt, though your body seemed to know quite well. It was melodramatic and anticlimactic, not at all the letter you expected to get. In fact, it was one you didn’t want to get, the sobs in your throat building into something louder. You couldn’t cry though, you couldn’t show that to yourself. You didn’t want to.

Wooseok being happy and trying to move forward- it broke your spirit. It was all you wanted and now, hearing about it only made you sad. You couldn’t deny that you wanted to be there to see it. You wanted to see him smile and be happy, go out with his friends, create a career and life for himself. He seemed so stuck but this gave you hope that he was doing something. His words sounded so hopeful and wonderful and your heart prayed for him to feel better.

Though, you supposed you were crying most for the feelings in your heart at the last bit. He wished for your happiness. He was concerned about you. He wanted you to grow and perhaps that hurt the most because it meant he still cared. You still cared. Sitting on that chair at the dinner table, the tears couldn’t stop themselves. You felt overwhelmed, happy and miserable all at once. No words could quite explain how you felt, how being called Sunflower meant something more than your life. You shook, silently holding yourself, crumpling the paper, destroying yet one more thing.

How was it that him fixing himself led to your undoing?

A/N: okay this one came quick but also bc I had a lot of it already written. Part 4 will be up at the end of may which is when I’ll have time for basically alll of my writing. I’m hoping to finish this really quick though because I love it and the ending is already planned and ah I just can’t wait for you guys to see it! Thanks for sticking with it! Much love, and I’ll see you with the nexttt

#wooseok #pentagon #ptg #pentagon wooseok #jung wooseok #wooseok imagines #pentagon wooseok imagine #pentagon wooseok scenario #pentagon wooseok fanfic #wooseok fanfiction #wooseok fanfic #wooseok scenarios #wooseok scenario #pentagon scenarios #pentagon reactions #pentagon imagines #pentagon series #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop #reader x wooseok #ptg reactions

[flyingvgroupca]

The Best Strategy to Increase Traffic and Leads to Your Real Estate Website without Any Referrals, Facebook or Paid Ads

Is your real estate business relying on referrals to close more deals? Are you paying for Facebook or Instagram ads and not even breaking even? Are you looking for other ways to generate more traffic and leads, while increasing your ROI? Fact: the online space is no different from the offline world. Real estate transactions are based on trust, and trust takes time to build because it requires genuine conversations and multiple interactions before deals are successfully closed. Therefore, the issues causing stress and anxiety in the life of your prospect hold the key to building relationships with your target market. How, you may ask? Well, TV shows have mastered the formula. At the beginning of an episode, a problem is introduced, which is normally resolved by the end of the episode.  However, right before the episode ends, another problem is introduced, compelling viewers to watch the next episode. You can also use this formula effectively in your industry. Here’s how: Treat your content (article, blog post, podcast, etc.) like one continuous story. However,  instead of creating a problem or inventing anxiety, you’ll tap into your prospect’s existing anxiety about the real challenges they face already. I’m NOT referring to manipulation or exploitation tactics here. We’re talking about providing meaningful content ideas and relevant solutions to your prospects to solve a specific issue in their lives. This is the main reason you entered the real estate business in the first place, right? So… do you want to move prospects through your sales funnel with ease? Here's how your real estate experience and industry insights can transform this strategy into increased traffic and leads for your company. (1) Uncover the most significant problems and associated pain points that face your prospects Explain why it's a problem, and discuss the consequences of ignoring it. Highlight a few of the mistakes beginners make, and help them understand that there are more pitfalls out there. Example:

Aggravate the problem until the prospect realize the gravity of the situation, and desperately needs a way out, or a quick fix.

(2) Present the solution Your solution should solve their problem completely, not just relieve the symptoms or eliminate the negative consequences already present. (3) Lead prospects into your ultimate funnel

A marketing funnel is ideal for building trust with multiple prospects at the same time. Once they review your content they’ll learn more about you, as well as your real estate experience, offers, and other relevant information. Sooner rather than later, they’ll recognize that you: Understand their problem Know how to solve it, and Are a reliable and knowledgeable source. Pretty straightforward, isn't it? Unfortunately, this simple process is something real estate businesses continually ignore. Don’t fall into the same trap! Your real estate website requires an effective lead generator strategy! So, stop ignoring the best lead capture channel!  I’m referring to the second most visited website after Google, YouTube. If you’re watching videos online, then your prospects are probably doing the same thing. So, why not exploit this convenient platform for the benefit of your business? Here’s how to take full advantage of this channel, and out-smart your competition with awesome video marketing content.

The #1 Reason WHY Youtube Is Not Optional For Your Real Estate Company or WebSite

An increasing number of people are using YouTube on a daily basis.

Statista reported that YouTube accounts for 37% of ALL mobile internet traffic.

YouTube, on mobile alone, is reaching more 18-34 year olds in the US than any TV network.

Video content, especially on YouTube, simplifies the process of familiarizing people with real estate companies and agents. Plus, multiple marketing tests show that YouTube videos can rank on Google much faster and much easier than articles or blog posts. That’s not all! VIDEO beats all the other content media types since it communicates on a more personal level. However, creating video content is more challenging since it requires more time and a higher level of skill. Therefore, many people find it frustrating to create exceptional content on a regular basis, and ultimately choose to give up instead of forging ahead. But hopefully, this is not you! I trust that you’re a doer, and a go-getter, and can accomplish what your competitors can’t! Here’s what you’ll need to get started. Design your ultimate YouTube SEO strategy. Buy or custom create two agendas. You’ll need them to jot down ALL your ideas and titles for creating extraordinary content on an ongoing basis. I’m referring to: A yearly content marketing plan This helps you to prepare in advance, and set monthly and weekly achievable goals. You’ll be able to track and monitor your progress, and determine what works and what doesn’t. This information will allow you to make adjustments and improve your video marketing efforts over time. A content posting calendar + One or two additional social media content scheduling tools to help with that, because social media is also about automation and you can be certain that many of your competitors are already using SMM automation programs. However, most of them are doing it wrong, meaning that they just broadcast content, and forget to actively engage with their target prospects. For me, it makes sense and is so much easier to work with an offline agenda & make notes in a printed calendar, instead of depending on an online SaaS or mobile app. You want to spend less time on the computer (to better protect your eyes), and invest more effort into hand-crafting content (or at least titles, and their main points) In my case, this approach helps me to get a general view of what needs to be prioritized and provides me with a sense that I’m making significant progress on a regular basis, while avoiding procrastination. TIP: because these online content calendar tools are easily editable, you get the sense you can use them for great ROI. However, this very feature makes postponing as easy as entering the content. If you base this entire process 100% online, then you’ll more likely postpone creating & publishing content more often than you should. Plus, you may miss capturing some key content ideas. Believe it or not, the best content ideas still emerge from the offline environment, because it’s where you interact with other people, and use all your senses and instincts. Proper Content Marketing Research Starts Off Like This... Search for the best, most relevant keywords & topics related to your prospects: (1) Wants (2) Needs (3) Challenges (4) Concerns, and (5) Most Burning Questions. That’s the first step in securing long term YouTube rankings, and dominating real estate YouTube search queries. Top SEO and keyword research tools to use here, are SemRush, Ubersuggest, Ahrefs and Google AdWord’s Keyword Planner. Once you know exactly what your target prospects require from you, then move forward with the next step. Optimize your YouTube account.  If you’re new to YouTube marketing or haven’t set up your entire account yet, then listen closely. It is essential to attend to channel optimization first before addressing content optimization. Therefore, buying the perfect house first, before filling it with furniture.

Are You Guilty of These 3 YouTube Channel Optimization Blunders?

#1 - Sync the Look of Your YouTube Channel Page with Your Website or Alienate Leads and Customers You should have an identical or very similar color combination whenever you create an eye-catching top header, where you highlight… Your company name Your USP (unique selling proposition - what differentiates you from your competitors), Your brand/logo, as well as your social media & contact information. Here are some examples of real estate YouTube channels with simple yet outstanding design: 

Depending on your goal (to motivate visitors to join your funnel, subscribe to your channel, or contact you), you should design your YouTube header accordingly. For this you can use my prefered graphic design tool - Snappa - to create your own YouTube channel profile headers, as well as all your social media graphics. #2 - Write a Compelling ‘Why Me/Us’ description in the ‘About’ Section. The ‘About’ section of your channel gives you your ‘time to shine!’ and establish a strong connection to your prospective customers and investors. This is the space to share the reason why you’ve created your YouTube channel, and briefly explain why prospects should follow your video content. You can also tell potential customers to take other actions such as subscribe, join your mailing list, or call you. Examples:

Consistency is the key to establishing an effective real estate YouTube channel. It is essential to share the long-term vision of your company  through your channel’s content and engagement efforts. Here’s how to stand out in a crowded marketplace: Invent coined terms and acronyms. Connect old to new, make boring interesting. Create a vlog where you interview like-minded entrepreneurs, and different local business owners, regardless of whether they are working within the real estate industry or not. Spread the word about them, and they’ll reciprocate, in 9 out of 10 cases.  #3 - Optimize Your Playlists Creating a playlist will help you organize your content like a pro, and serve as a collection of real estate (and other relevant) videos. What an amazing way to bundle your buyer-oriented and seller-related videos, along with other high-value, significant topics. The playlist will allow users to view a stream of related videos under the same topic, or category. Here’s how real estate moguls, and one of my favorite business minds - Grant Cardone - manages his YouTube playlist:

Bonus Tip - listen to the comments of your viewers, and consider the feedback of your subscribers Reading your audience’s feedback is extraordinarily rewarding. However, this process can become time consuming, especially when your video content starts to take off. You could always get a team member or VA to handle this process later on. This approach gives you the chance to interact with prospects and leads and, more importantly, get their real-time, candid feedback on things such as: what they liked, what they did not like and what they wish to see in the future.  You can use this data to further enhance the channel and come up with new topic ideas and video content.

Do You Make These 5 Video Content Optimization Mistakes?

YouTube content optimization comes next. Here’s the first thing to fix. #1 - Create compelling headline titles that drive clicks and are not easy to ignore It is essential to create video titles that include relevant keywords, and can attract users to watch your videos instead of all the other available alternatives. This is the first rule to ranking higher on Google and YouTube for your desired keywords and key topics. The most effective way to create amazing headlines is to use this 3-step combo approach: What comes to mind (based on your experience) What the research tools uncover, and what your target prospects are telling you What your competitors are talking about (identify their best headlines) #2 - Write search-optimized descriptions, detailing each video. Some users even provide a full transcription of their video content, which tend to work wonders for SEO purposes and YouTube rankings. #3 - Use closed captions for the hearing impaired and foreign language speakers

Being sensitive to what your audience needs can go a long way. This includes providing caption text for individuals who cannot hear, or whose main language is not English.  Transcripts  and Google Translator Toolkit  can help in this regard. Making the effort to reach this type of audience could potentially impact you lead generation in a positive way. #4  - Use highly-relevant, custom thumbnails to increase your video CTR

In marketing, you have to adhere to the following principle: promise less, and deliver more. Thumbnails need to be highly relevant to your overall video content or viewers may feel disappointed if your content lacks substance. Sadly, most video creators have learned the science behind creating click-bait thumbnails. Yet, more often than not their content under delivers. #5  - Include relevant call-to-actions and annotations You can easily create call-to-actions (CTAs) using cards in your YouTube videos. You can have up to 5 cards in one video where you can choose whether to add an image, title or call-to-action text, depending on the type of card. In marketing, you have to adhere to the following principle: promise less, and deliver more. Thumbnails need to be highly relevant to your overall video content or viewers may feel disappointed if your content lacks substance. Sadly, most video creators have learned the science behind creating click-bait thumbnails. Yet, more often than not their content under delivers. #5  - Include relevant call-to-actions and annotations You can easily create call-to-actions (CTAs) using cards in your YouTube videos. You can have up to 5 cards in one video where you can choose whether to add an image, title or call-to-action text, depending on the type of card.

Example of a call-to-action popping up in a video of California-based Mainstreet Realtors: 

Bonus tip: Geotag your video. Geotagging enables you to associate your video with the GeoCoordinates of your real estate business’ location. This facilitates pick-up of your data by the search engines, therefore, including your page in the results on area searches that are most relevant to your viewers.

Providing your NAP (Name, Address, Phone) on the video will help viewers to connect with you when they reach your video. Video marketing is the exchange of knowledge and experience. Prospects need to feel your energy and understand your insights, things you've developed through practice and time. With the right content marketing plan and the organized approach of your team, you can provide the ideal solution to the biggest real estate challenges and concerns facing your prospects. Because you already know: people buy from other people that they know, like, and trust. That’s the best kept secret in boosting your real estate website traffic and lead numbers, while rendering competitors and their marketing campaigns irrelevant. With the right YouTube strategy, generating leads gets increasingly fascinating and exciting for the real estate industry. Since this channel is growing continuously, it proves to be ideal for ALL real estate companies, regardless of their size, experience or location. You’d be foolish not to leverage this incredible platform to secure your financial stability and grow your business. You should grab this opportunity before the marketplace gets more crowded or YouTube makes it harder for real estate agents and firms to tap into their large traffic polls. Thank you so much for reading The Best Strategy to Increase Traffic and Leads to Your Real Estate Website without Any Referrals, Facebook or Paid Ads. We really appreciate it! If you have any questions about our article, or can suggest any other topics you think we should explore, feel free to let us know. Be sure to sign-up for our newsletter to receive monthly emails on all of the latest trends and happenings in the digital marketing space. You will also receive our FREE E-Book with the Amazing Marketing Tools for Powerful Business Growth. Sign-up below! Also, if you received some value out of this article, please share with your friends or colleagues, or leave a comment/question below. We really appreciate you reading our blog and every share/comment means the world to us and allows us to continue producing valuable tools to help you grow your business! Share this PostAbout the Author

Robb Fahrion Facebook Twitter Google+Robb Fahrion is the Co-Founder and a Partner of Flying V Group. He is passionate about helping businesses grow using the power of the internet. Robb graduated from Chapman University in Orange, CA and currently resides in Costa Mesa, CA. Robb enjoys writing about digital marketing, helping his clients turn their dreams into reality, and is a HUGE Mike Trout fan. The Best Strategy to Increase Traffic and Leads to Your Real Estate Website without Any Referrals, Facebook or Paid AdsNovember 25, 2019What NEVER to Publish on a Real Estate Company Site or BlogNovember 19, 2019Real Estate SEO Tools Exposed: SEMrush vs Ahrefs vs MozPro Review (2019)November 11, 2019

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[canaliculi]

Take me somewhere nice (3/?)

Gravity Falls

Bill/Ford

M: slow loving romance between two best buds

Bill edges Ford towards the creation of the portal.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Once upon a dream

Crash Site Omega. It’s a two-day hike from Ford’s secluded cabin in the middle of the woods to the peak of Gravity Falls, but it’s always worth the trip. This time is no different, and Ford has filled pages of his journal with sketches and musings on the various creatures he’s discovered skulking around the isolated mountain trails or burrowing deep underground. It makes him smile to think of the quaint townsfolk, who have no idea of the strange and fascinating world that surrounds them. What will they do when Ford is finally ready to unveil his work, and they discover they are at the epicenter of the scientific world’s curiosity?

He chuckles, and sets his bag down on the clearing. Night had fallen some time ago, but Ford had pressed on, wanting to get closer to the crash site before settling down for the evening. The stars wink dully in the sky. Ford lies on his back with his head propped up on his pack and observes them. They’re beautiful, of course – he’s always been a fan of the night sky. It used to set his mind reeling, dreaming of ungraspable things. But now it pales in comparison the one he sees so often in his mindscape.

Everything here pales in comparison. His hands stroke through the soft blades of dark grass. And since he’s met Bill, well, almost nothing seems out of his grasp. This place – Gravity Falls – has already stretched his imagined limitations of what the natural world can produce, and the introduction of Bill into his life has all but removed those boundaries entirely.

Bill. Ford hasn’t seen his muse since the night he gifted him this latest piece of advice. It’s not surprising, really. His muse trusts him to figure things out, wants to see what Ford is capable of by himself. And Ford doesn’t plan on disappointing him. It feels almost like a challenge, one he is excited to rise to.

Of course, he sometimes wishes that Bill would hang around longer. Or come to him more frequently. Not to give him advice, or answers – he still wants to prove himself to his muse, after all – but just for… Just for what? Ford frowns, and his hands tighten into loose fists around the grass. Companionship perhaps? As elating as it is to be unhindered on his own, it does occasionally feel a bit lonely. Perhaps it’s just a side effect of being a twin.

But really, can he be blamed for wanting to spend more time with his muse? Bill is energetic, insightful, knowledgeable – the most intelligent being Ford has ever encountered. He’s patient, too, and understanding, guiding Ford through metaphysical concepts with a steady hand. They are on fundamentally different levels, and yet Ford never feels as though he is being placated or condescended to. And his muse’s genuine care and interest in him is undeniably flattering.

Not to mention the literal flattery that Bill heaps upon him. Flattery that never feels false, or insincere. Flattery that is not simply a thin veneer covering disdain or jealousy. Bill has recognized him, his abilities, his potential, and refuses to hand anything to him on a platter. How could he not want to spend more time with him? How could he not want-

Ford attempts to shut down his own thoughts; it’s hardly successful. It feels like Bill permeates the very air around him, and he scoffs when his mind points out a cluster of stars that could even be thought to resemble his muse. His persistence is not a trait that he would generally denigrate, but now that his mind is stubbornly stuck on following this particular train of thought to its bitter end, Ford curses himself.

Because it must come to a bitter end. Whatever it is that he wants from his muse – and the thought of putting that into words has his stomach doing nauseating flip flops – is impossible, for any number of reasons. Bill’s a muse. Bill exists in his mind, or another dimension – either option is equally insurmountable. Bill is a triangle. He doesn’t even have a mouth most of the time! (A mistake to think about, because now he’s picturing Bill coming closer, his eye warping strangely into a mouth, soft lips brushing against his own, or worse, wrapping around his-)

Ford jerks upright, shaking his head as if he could shake his thoughts loose. His pulse is quick and bounding. This is unbelievable. He just has to think clearly. There’s no need to get worked up. Keep it to himself, cringe at his stuttering inability to get a coherent sentence out, and eventually get over it.

It’s not as though Bill would understand. Ford still isn’t able to quantify him in any meaningful ways, but his muse has time and again expressed fascination and incredulity at normal human responses. Of course, his muse has also expressed many human responses himself. Some are probably specifically emoted to give Ford some kind of reference point, but Bill must feel something for him.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ford stands and then crouches, beginning the task of setting up his camp for the night. The only choice he has, obviously, is to wait it out. Suppress his thoughts when he can, keep himself busy – and with a new clue to the weirdness of Gravity Falls, he can’t imagine he’ll have much time to spare for- for whatever this is. Life will move on, and one day he’ll think back on this time and be able to laugh at himself.

All of this is, naturally, easier said than done. Ford may be able to take tentative charge of his conscious thoughts, but his subconscious is much more difficult to wrangle. Predictably, this is expressed in his dreams, where he’s most vulnerable. Since Bill has been dragging his waking mind into the mindscape, Ford’s become marginally more aware of himself in his own dreams. Aware enough, at least, that he has some idea he’s asleep, and some autonomy within the dreamscape itself.

He dreams that he and Bill are talking, and he startles in the midst of their conversation, realizing he has understood and retained none of it. Bill remains in his seat, flashing as though Ford should still be hearing his half of the conversation. It’s his night sky around them, but it’s littered with garbage – a swing set, a ship, various metallic pieces of robotics equipment spilling like entrails and loosely connected by sparking wires. Bill’s light stabilizes, and he’s looking at Ford expectantly, and even though it’s a dream – he knows it’s a dream now – he nevertheless feels embarrassed and self-conscious.

“What’s up, IQ?” Bill asks. It’s not Bill. He drifts closer anyway. “Feeling a little NOSTALGIC?”

Ford’s eyes flick briefly away from his muse, jump across the items lingering in his mind, but it’s hard to keep his gaze off of Bill as the triangle steadily invades his personal space. Bill chuckles, and cards his fingers through his hair. It’s a dream, but Ford can feel the pricks of his claws scraping along his scalp, forward and backward.

“Deep rooted INSECURITIES and CRIPPLING SELF-DOUBT got your tongue?” Bill’s eye is curved in his usual grin.

Ford rolls his eyes. Of course his imagining of his muse comes with the snarky attitude. He wonders what that says about him. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get a word out Bill has moved his hand, hooking his thumb over Ford’s lower lip and gently pulling his jaw open. Ford’s heart is racing, and Bill’s free hand comes over. He sticks two fingers into Ford’s mouth, and the otherworldly smooth digits stroke against his tongue. They muffle some sound – protestation, indignation, compliance? – and Ford struggles not to drool around them, his tongue automatically wriggling and pressing against the intrusion. Bill’s eye goes half lidded and his fingers curl and relax and curl, petting Ford’s tongue.

“Hmm, I don’t SEE anything!” his dream-muse says, and then Ford’s tongue is trapped between Bill’s fingers and thumb, and Bill tugs on it insistently, until Ford’s mouth is open and slack with his tongue hanging out. Bill’s gaze meets his own and Ford makes some noise, some sound that makes his cheeks burn with shame. He squirms in his seat. “You don’t look very COMFORTABLE there, Sixer! Why don’t you make yourself at HOME?”

And suddenly Ford isn’t seated anymore, is on his knees instead, and those fingers are still holding his tongue captive but now saliva is welling up behind his bottom lip and dripping over the edge, down his chin. Every part of his body feels flushed, feels pulsating, and he rubs his thighs together, takes a deep and shuddering breath. He tries to pull his tongue back in his mouth but the organ just squirms ineffectively in Bill’s grasp. His muse gives it a tug and he groans.

“WOW, you just do this stuff all on your OWN, huh genius?” Ford frowns, confused, and Bill comes in closer. “THIS is what you want?” So what if it is? It’s his dream, his private thoughts. Bill laughs, and this time it’s cruel somehow, makes Ford feel uneasy, even as he knows he’s facing nothing more than his own mind. But his muse lets go of him – and he doesn’t whimper at the loss, in the back of his throat – and then both of those saliva slick hands are tangling in his hair.

Bill’s close enough to him that Ford can feel his eyelashes tickling over his face each time the muse blinks. There’s one more last flick of them across his skin and then Bill’s flipped over to his mouth. His lips brush over Ford’s once, twice, and Ford can feel himself trembling, aching to drive forward. They’re smooth and soft, and every point of contact tingles like electricity. And then the hands in his hair tighten and drag him forward, and Bill’s mouth meets his firmly.

Their mouths move in tandem, and Bill’s tongue licks against his lips and then moves further inside him. Everything is slick and hot, and Ford lets slip a moan that’s drowned between them. His hands finally move, coming up to press against Bill’s back plane, curling his fingers so that they dig in and press at the grooves between Bill’s bricks. How, how any of this can feel as good as it does – doesn’t make any sense. Bill’s tongue is long and prehensile, beyond any human’s, and it twines around his own. Ford’s eyes snap open when it plunges down his throat briefly before his muse is drawing away from him entirely.

Ford wants to follow but black, sticky ropes are winding around his arms, his legs, his chest, his neck. They drag him backwards, and he only seems to become more firmly ensnared as he thrashes, desperate to break free.

“Bill!” he calls out for help. His muse startles like he hadn’t noticed anything was amiss.

“What’s the MATTER, Fordsy? This is just a DREAM, after all,” Bill says. Ford can feel panic welling up, beating frantically against his chest like a caged, wounded bird. He’s being dragged away from his muse, down into some deep, dark infinity, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it, no way to break free from-

“I can tell, you and I are going to have FUN!”

Ford jolts awake. His heart is pounding. He feels like he can’t get enough breath, his lungs heaving with short, quick pants. His chest feels constricted and he struggles to a sitting position, hunching over. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes a sound awoke him – a sound that must have come from him, and ridiculously, Ford is thankful that Stanley isn’t here. He’d never hear the end of it from his twin if he woke himself out of his own…

Nightmare?

Even now, he isn’t sure. Some base panic has him firmly in its grip, twisting him around, wringing him out, but it’s already ebbing away. Staring blankly ahead, his fingers trace over his own lips, and he imagines he can feel every loop and whirl on their surface, the calluses formed from traipsing through woods and crafting new inventions. Nothing like Bill’s.

A shiver of dread, and then it feels like lightning strikes his body, heat pooling in his groin. He remembers the (imagined) sensation of kneeling, the slight discomfort in the joints of his knees, thin skin caught between his bones and the floor. Bill’s hands on him, soft and smooth and leaving his flesh tingling behind them. His lips against him, his tongue inside him, inspiring more currents to flood through his body, like he was being scalded by raw energy.

But it wasn’t real. It’s so vivid, even now – if he closes his eyes, he can practically see the images playing across his eyelids. He still feels electrified, regardless of the knowledge that it was all a dream. A figment of his wildest imaginations, as Bill would say. His cheeks feel hot, he’s sure he’s turning red, and he fights the urge to touch himself in any way, pressing his hands instead into the crinkling fabric of his sleeping bag.

Ford collapses back into his bedding, his body stiff and rigid. His fingers are twitching at his sides again while he stares blankly at the taunt fabric of the tent above him. Embarrassment and worry curdle in his insides. The rushing tide of adrenal he’d awoken with slips away in slow increments, leaving his skin feeling strangely cold. His thoughts are still tangled up in Bill when he drifts back to sleep, but he doesn’t dream again.

In Ford’s experience, problems always seem less intimidating in the bright rays of daylight. He wakes a handful of short, peaceful hours later that seem to pass by in seconds. Pink dawn illuminates the tent, giving everything a soft and almost blurry feel, and he feels completely relaxed. Barely remembers waking up in a panic, and Ford has a moment where he even wonders what he could have felt so anxious about before.

And then his dream comes back to him in bits and pieces, and Ford has to turn to hide his face in his pillow, groaning. He can only remember small chunks of it – Bill’s fingers in his mouth, Bill’s lips against his, Bill’s tongue in his throat - but it’s more than enough to send that bolt of heat lancing through him like an encore performance. Indulging this isn’t healthy, but Ford can’t deny himself the opportunity to go over every detail in his head, the imagined sensations of Bill’s hands tangling in his hair. He bites his lower lip, and can envision the dull, blunt pain as inflicted by someone – something – else.

This is… not good. The final nail in the coffin of whatever deniability he may have held. Ford tries not to brood, but his mind is impossible to stop. The more he turns it over in his thoughts, the more his stomach ties itself into knots. This is his muse he’s thinking about. This strange, physical fixation feels like it’s sullying their partnership already, degrading it. Bill is so much more to him than-

Ford can’t even put it into words. He feels almost lost, and there’s a painful twitch in his chest when he realizes that his first instinct is to ask Bill what to do. Bill, who will probably be disgusted with him. All it took was what, a few extra hands, for Ford’s mind to completely warp their relationship? It still sends a shiver through his body when he thinks about it.

Frustrated, he clenches his fists, so tight he can feel his fingernails biting the flesh of his palm - and it feels like a reassurance of what he already knows.

Five crescents.

Freak. Unnatural.

What would Bill say?

Still feeling vaguely sick, Ford drags himself upright. There’s no point in dwelling on his dreams now, at the least. If he throws himself into his work, it will fade away. There is plenty here to entertain him, after all - literal feet away from a crashed alien spaceship.

He forces himself to focus. The last dream he had with Bill – the real Bill, not the tawdry impersonation his own cognizance created – has led him here. And the possibility is tantalizing: the epicenter of the ripples of weirdness invading Gravity Falls. Assuming he has understood his muse correctly, if nothing in his dimension can cause the strange happenings plaguing the town and woods, then it must be the result of an outside force - perhaps some sort of weirdness-residue spreading its influence, creeping into his reality like a malignancy.

And the most outside thing Ford has encountered is buried in a shallow grave just under his feet.

The sun was only barely beginning to climb its way above the treetops when Ford awoke, but it’s fully in view by the time he has packed his belongings and is ready to venture into the depths of the ship. He grunts as he drops his pack near the heavy rock he uses to obscure the entrance. It’s been months since he was last here. An uneasiness lingers in the back of his mind somewhere – has been coiling there all morning – but it’s easy to brush off. There’s nothing alive down there.

With no small amount of effort, he heaves the boulder aside. The latch looks innocuous; well, as innocuous as the door to an alien spacecraft can look, he supposes. The magnet gun hums in his hand and then the latch is flinging open, falling on its side with a dull thud. There’s a vague reverberation as it clangs against the grass-covered husk of the ship.

Staring down the dark tunnel reminds him of something. In his dream? He frowns, and remembers sticky blackness, coiling and intrusive around his limbs. A cold shudder rolls down his spine. Preposterous, of course. A nightmare. His mind probably trying to rid itself of – hands pressing all around him, fingers in his mouth – foolish trivialities. More forcibly than is entirely necessary, Ford rips his flare open, bright crackling sparks sizzling off its end. He drops it down the shaft and follows behind.

The flare, predictably, reaches the floor level long before Ford does, and he is left in a chill and creaking silence that is only interrupted by the thudding of his boots on each rung of the ladder. Diving into his work has always been an escape. Misunderstandings, arguments – Ford finds it gratifying to set emotional issues aside for a time, to consider them in detail at his leisure. And with a mind like his, the only way he can shove a puzzle to its rightful corner is to distract himself with another.

Thankfully, Bill presents him with nothing short of an endless list of puzzles.

#f!tag: GF #status!tag: WIP