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digital-corruption · 11 months

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Send in the Clowns

⚠ Trigger warning: Not suitable for people with coulrophobia (fear of clowns)

"Everyone's here?" MC asked as she walked into the small meeting room of the Mystery Investigators, Inc. office in Colville.

In the middle of the room sat a second-hand, oval wooden table with mismatching wooden chairs around it. Jake sat at the far end working at his laptop, ignoring Jessy and Cleo who had been gossiping all the latest happenings in Duskwood. Dan sat at the other end opposite Jake. While he seemed to be in quiet contemplation, the truth was he was still a bit hungover from the night before from one too many drinks at the Aurora.

"Well, everyone that was available," Jessy corrected. "Thomas and Hannah are still on their road trip and Lilly got stuck doing double shifts. She says, 'Hello', and wishes she could join us."

"Ah well, we'll take what we can get," MC shrugged and put a couple of large paper shopping bags down in the middle of the table.

"Hey, you've got me. What more do you need?" Dan boasted. "Honestly you could just send the rest of them home."

"Oh so you know how to bypass biometric locks?" Jake mocked.

"I am sure I can work it out. I graduated from the MacGyver School of Resourcefulness," Dan joked. "Just need some tape and some powder and boom! Instant fingerprint!"

"That might work on locks from the 80s, but this is the 21st century," Jake rolled his eyes. "And what would you do if it had an eye scanner?"

"The ol' knock-out-a-guard-and-hold-his-eye-open-in-front-of-the-scanner trick, duh!" Dan beamed.

"Wait, we're knocking out guards?" Cleo questioned.

"No, we are not!" MC exclaimed. "This is a nonviolent operation!"

"Ugh, fine," Dan leaned back in his seat with disappointment. "I suppose Jake can come then."

Cleo sighed with relief, "Ok, good. You know I don't mind a little B & E, but I have my limits."

"Well if everything goes according to my plan, you won't have to worry about the guards at all," MC began. "Our target is Jorge Santos. You may have seen his name on the signs around the city. He's a real estate agent here and we believe he's been scamming some of his clients, but the only way we can prove that is with access to his home computer."

"Is this legal?" Cleo questioned.

"Cleo, the man is an asshole," Dan pointed out.

"Yes, but if they steal information and give it to the police, it can't be used against him, right?" Cleo asked.

"If our goal was to get him arrested, sure. There are other ways to ruin him though," Jake interrupted.

"Our client knows proving a crime actually happened will be difficult with the way these scams are done. However, leaking the right information will heavily damage his image and his name, especially with high profile clients. The goal is to get the truth out in the open," MC explained.

"Ok, let's do it," Dan nodded. "What’s the plan?"

"Well, getting into Santos' house- mansion really, won't be easy. Due to his connections with the mob, his place is guarded. However, it also turns out Santos has an 8 year-old son who turns 9 on Monday. And Santos is going all out on his birthday party. His son wants a circus and has requested clowns," MC smiled with confidence.

"Wait, you mean…" Cleo trailed off, looking around the room.

"Jake as a clown!?" Dan burst out laughing. "This is the best news I've heard all year!"

"You too, numbskull," Jake glared from his laptop.

"Huh, what?" Dan's face twisted.

"Yes, I've ordered five costumes," MC motioned to the bags on the table.

"I think it will be fun," Jessy grinned.

"I don't know the first thing about being a clown," Cleo grimaced. "I could bake the pies though."

"Ah, just make it up as you go!" Jessy encouraged. "That's the great thing about clowns, right? Do whatever feels fun and silly!"

"I think it involves a lot more than that," Cleo frowned.

"Yeah, like a sense of humour," Dan mocked, earning him three eye rolls and a kick to his shin.

"Anyway, how do you propose to sneak around as clowns?" Cleo inquired. "I can't imagine clown costumes will provide much stealth."

"Not with squeaky shoes," Jessy humoured.

"But you need squeaky shoes if you're trying to appear authentic," Dan pointed out, already completely on board. "And a big, red noggin' for him."

Jake narrowed his eyes, "You’re enjoying this way too much."

"Oh, I'll be taking photos. Never know when I might need some quality blackmail material," Dan joked.

"Just remember I will have equally as much blackmail on you, if not more," Jake glared.

"Why would you have more?" Dan raised his eyebrow confused.

"Well, while you three are performing on stage, Jake and I will be breaking into the target's home office," MC shrugged.

"Excuse me!?" Cleo said abruptly. "While we're what!?"

"It'll be fine," Jessy insisted. "We'll spray water at each other and throw pies. The kids will love it."

"I also rented one of those tiny cars. Make Dan go into it and drive around all scrunched up. The kids will love it," MC assured them.

"I am pretty sure I had a nightmare once about this," Cleo sighed. "Ah screw it. It's just for a little while."

"So you’re in?" MC questioned.

"Yes, I'm in," Cleo waved her hand. "But I'm in charge of baking the pies. If I am going to have a pie smushed in my face, it must at least taste halfway decent!"

MC glanced at Jessy, her secretary. "Oh of course you know I'm in, boss," she giggled.

MC looked over to Dan, "Seeing Jake with a rainbow wig, ugly ass clothes and oversized red shoes is more than enough payment for me."

"You too, Dan," Jake reminded him. "You’re going to be wearing the same damn thing!"

"Yes, but you're going to be dressed as a clown," Dan reiterated. "And that will never get old."

"Ok, it's currently 10 o'clock. The party starts at 4. Let's get to it!" MC declared.

"Ah! I need to buy ingredients! Tell me you have pie pans!" Cleo jumped out of her chair.

"This is a private investigator's office. Why on earth would we have pie pans?" Jake pointed out.

"You at least have an oven?" Cleo frowned.

"A microwave oven?" MC shrugged.

"It’s ok, we can use my apartment," Jessy interrupted. "I have everything there."

"So I guess I'll just sit here and take a nap for the next five and a half hours?" Dan leaned back and stretched out his legs.

"Oh, no, you’re coming with us!" Cleo objected. "We can practise between batches."

MC nodded, "I'll go over the plans again. Jake you… you do Jake things."

Jake smiled, "I'll check all the programs."

"Great, let's reconvene here in four hours for costume changes, hair and makeup," MC announced.

"What? How long does is it take you to paint your faces white?" Dan asked astonished.

"It could take us that long just to get your feet into the big shoes," Jessy joked.

Six hours later, the Mystery Investigators, Inc. van rolled up to the security gate in front of the Santos mansion. Its occupants were in full costume and face paint. Their fake flowers pinned to their chest were full of water, ready to spray. Their pies were fresh and ready to be thrown. Dan sat in the back, practising his juggling every time the van stopped. Jake worked on his laptop doing Jake things. The three girls sat in the front with MC driving. A clown car had been loaded into the back, making the van heavier than usual.

"Company name?" The security guard asked, peering through the driver side window.

"Funky Feet. We're one of the hired acts for the party today," MC responded casually.

The guard checked his clipboard to confirm, "Ok, drive up and park on the left side by the servant's entrance."

"Servant's entrance?" Cleo questioned under her breath. "This guy makes that much money off real estate?"

MC nodded and closed the window as the gate opened, then drove up the driveway cautiously.

"You do when you're selling entire city blocks," Jessy pointed out.

"And work for the mob. Don't forget that mob part! No one makes that much money legally anymore," Dan spoke up.

"Now, now, it's time to get into character," said MC as she parked beside a catering van. "We're happy, jovial clowns, remember?"

"Yeah, happy, remember?" Dan nudged Jake with one of his bowling pins. "No sad clowns here."

Under his white face paint, thick red painted lips, blue stars over his eyes, bright green wig and big red nose, Jake glared at Dan. He reached his hand up and squeaked his nose.

"I can be happy," he said flatly.

"Could you at least say that with a smile?" Dan burst out laughing.

Jake faked a smile, but somehow it was even creepier.

"Stop! Stop! You're making it worse! Sweet Jesus, don't give this man any red balloons!" Dan cried out. "Every child is going to have nightmares tonight, I guarantee it!"

"Would you two stop?" MC frowned. "Come on, unload the little car."

Dan bounced up to his feet with two squeaks of his oversized red shoes as Jessy and Cleo went round the back to open the rear van doors. Jake begrudgingly shoved his laptop away in his backpack before getting up to help push the clown car out of the van. Once the car was out, Jake pulled MC aside.

"I'm not scary, am I?" he pouted.

"Aw, hey, don't listen to him. I mean look at Dan. Who are the kids going to be more frightened of? A little ol' sad clown or McBeefy, the body builder clown?" MC joked.

"His muscles do look ridiculous in those bright yellow clothes and those stupid looking suspenders," Jake conceded.

MC leant up and gave his nose a quick peck, not wanting to ruin her own makeup, "Hey, no sad clowns allowed here today, ok?" She moved around to rejoin the group, fighting the urge to laugh at the sight of Dan climbing into the tiny clown car. "Alright team! It's time for operation 'Send in the Clowns!'"

"No pun intended," Jessy giggled.

MC shook her head in amusement, then turned to lead the way around the side of the house to the backyard. The others followed her on either side with Dan in the clown car, Jessy and Cleo carrying boxes full of neatly stacked pies, and Jake working on his happy clown expression, which only got them startled looks from the other hired staff that they passed. Still, it was a power walk like none other seen before, with their oversized red shoes that squeaked out of sync with each other and their bright coloured wigs.

The event organiser approached MC and asked, "Ok, what act are you with?"

MC looked at her clown costume and at the others before turning back to the organiser, "We're the clowns."

The organiser rolled his eyes, "I can see that, but there are multiple clown groups." He gestured to the stage where another troupe was performing.

"We have competition!?" Dan exclaimed. "Oh it is on!"

"Dan! This is not a circus talent show! It's a kids party!" Cleo hushed him.

"Are you going to be satisfied with being second best?" Dan pointed out.

Cleo was quiet for a moment before responding, "I bet their pies taste like trash."

"Their clothes are too coordinated and don't even clash with their hair," Jessy winced.

"They don't have a clown car," Jake pointed out.

"Ha! Even hac-" Dan caught himself before he slipped. "Harlequin boy is getting into it!"

Jake glared at Dan, knowing full well what Dan nearly yelled for everyone to hear.

"Could you do something about that one?" The organiser gestured to Jake. "He's going to give kids nightmares if he keeps that up."

MC smiled while fighting back laughing, "I assure you once he gets into character, he's all smiles. He's just having a bad day because someone hit his cat this morning."

"Oh! I am sorry to hear that. Well, you can warm up over by the hors d'oeuvres table," the organiser motioned.

The group moved over to the buffet table and set down the boxes while Dan parked the car and climbed out. As he was stretching out, the performers on stage finished and swarms of children got up and flooded the area, catching the group by surprise. Dan quickly started to juggle his bowling pins in an attempt to entertain the children.

“You suck!” one of the children yelled suddenly, causing Dan to miss one of the pins. The children all burst out laughing from the comical squeak as it landed on his shoe, followed by the comical pained squeak from Dan’s mouth.

Dan grumbled under his breath, “You little twerp!” But then another child jumped on his oversized shoe to make it squeak again and landed on his toes in the process. A series of comical squeaks streamed from Dan’s mouth.

Meanwhile Jessy pulled out a long balloon from her pocket and blew it up to twist into a balloon animal, “Who would like a dog balloon?”

“I want an elephant!” one of the kids called out.

“Well, I don’t do elephants. I do dogs,” Jessy frowned. “Tell you what, I can make you a giraffe!”

“No, an elephant!” the kid reiterated.

Jessy was so stressed that she ended up popping the balloon anyway. The kids all laughed while she quickly tried to blow up another balloon, but one of the naughty kids poked the balloon with a pin and caused it to pop in her face.

Cleo would’ve come to Jessy’s aid, but she was busy trying to keep the children away from her carefully baked pies, “No touchies!”

Jake on the other hand was slowly walking backwards, trying to get as far away from the mob as possible. However some of the children spotted him and started poking at him.

“What’s in the backpack?” one asked.

“Hey, can you do any tricks?” another pestered.

“Why aren’t you smiling?” another pressured. “Clowns are supposed to be happy!”

“You are a terrible clown!” one called out.

“Ah, he’s so creepy!” another cried.

MC panicked, not sure who to help first. She hadn’t imagined there would be so many children. It felt like the entire school had been invited to the party, or at least the entire grade.

The previous performers walked past sneering at them, “What a bunch of amateurs!”

Just then, MC spotted one of the toddler’s tricycles and grabbed it. She sat down and started awkwardly riding around the group. Jessy saw her and joined MC on a tricycle as well, trundling along beside her. The kids pointed and started giggling at how ridiculous they looked. Dan walked in front of them and jokingly tried to stop them using pantomime, but the girls ran into him and they all fell over. Cleo shook her head, then grabbed two pies and dumped them on the heads of the two female pranksters. A couple of the kids ran over and jumped on top of Dan, but he lifted them up with his monstrous strength and stood up, then pretended to weight lift while the kids held onto his arms. A couple more children jumped on and tried to weigh Dan down, but he couldn’t be stopped.

Amidst all of the chaos, Jake watched by the sidelines confused as to what to do. A young girl grabbed his hand, catching him by surprise.

“It’s ok to be sad,” she looked up at Jake with sympathy.

Jake was speechless, but then he remembered he had a few paper flowers in his coat pocket. He had intended to give them to MC, but he decided it wouldn’t hurt to give one to away. He took it out and offered it to the little girl with a soft smile. As soon as she saw the flower she eagerly took it from him and ran off to show her mother. The speed that she ran off bewildered Jake, but he caught MC watching him with a smirk on her face. Not understanding why MC would look at him like that, he looked away and blushed, hoping the white paint would cover the redness in his face.

While MC was distracted, Cleo and Jessy started play bickering amongst themselves and threw pieces of pie back and forth between them. Some of the kids got involved and started to take sides. They grabbed the expensive hors d’oeuvres as ammunition and soon an all out food fight broke out. MC took the opportunity to sneak out and grab Jake’s hand. While security desperately tried to get the fight under control, they ran off towards the house.

“I started to worry we wouldn’t get away,” Jake commented as he plugged a handheld device into the security pad and unlocked it with brute force.

“Ah, creating chaos is what we do best,” MC smirked, while watching for guards.

“Ok, door’s open. Let’s go,” Jake announced as he opened the door for MC.

MC ran in first. As she spent the afternoon studying the house’s floorplan, she knew exactly where the office was. What she hadn’t expected to find was a guard exiting the bathroom as they came around the corner. They caught him still in the middle of zipping up his pants. Before he could pull out his sidearm, Jake stepped in front and squirted the liquid from his fake flower on his chest into the guard’s face. The guard stepped back stunned, then collapsed unconscious on the ground.

“What the hell was that?” MC exclaimed.

Jake shrugged as he stepped over the unconscious guard, “I figured swapping the water out would come in handy.”

“You did what!?” she glared. “What if one of the kids go their hands on it!?”

“You can discipline me later. Help me pick him up,” he leant down and lifted the guard by his armpits.

MC facepalmed herself in her head while she bent over and picked up the guard’s ankles. Quickly they shuffled him over to a closet and dropped him on the floor. After checking the hallway was clear, they made a mad dash for the office. As they expected. the office door had a digital lock as well, except this one had a fingerprint scanner. Jake pried open the panel and plugged in his device directly into the board, but it was taking a lot longer to break into.

“Dan’s method would’ve been faster,” MC teased.

“No, it would not,” Jake rolled his eyes. “We’d have to find the right fingerprints first and with so many people in the house, there’s no way of knowing whose print is whose. It’s almost done. Give it a bit more time.”

After another minute, the device finally beeped with success. The door clicked open, and MC dashed inside the office. Jake snapped the panel closed again and shut the door behind him.

“Check his bookcase while I install the virus on his computer,” Jake motioned to the bookcase on the side of the room as he marched over to the desk.

“Pfft, I give the orders around here,” MC frowned.

Jake glanced up and raised his eyebrow, “Would you like to break into his computer instead?”

“No, I’m good,” she turned away and started shuffling through the unmarked folders in the bookcase.

Jake shook his head and plopped down in the leather chair. Swiftly he pulled out his laptop and plugged it into the back of the all-in-one computer monitor. As soon as he unlocked his laptop, he started running his program to bypass the PIN login on Santos’ computer.

“There’s nothing here,” MC sighed and stepped away from the bookcase, then glanced over at the very serious clown sitting at the computer typing away like it was life or death. She pursed her lips in an attempt to keep a straight face, but as Jake looked up and noticed her watching, she burst out laughing anyway. “I’m sorry, you just look so ridiculous sitting there looking like that.”

Jake reached up and squeezed his red nose, “The things I do for you.” He couldn’t help but smile as he returned to his work.

MC giggled then noticed in the window behind Jake that Dan, Cleo and Jessy were being chastised by the event organiser. He was absolutely furious, but then one of the children threw a pie at him. While he was distracted, the others ran off with the kids helping their escape. MC then noticed the guard they had knocked out stumbling into the yard gesturing and shouting about a surprise clown attack.

“Oh shit! Jake! We’ve gotta go!” MC gasped.

Jake glanced over his shoulder at the chaos ensuing outside. Not wanting to leave the clown car behind, Dan jumped in and started to drive off just fast enough to keep ahead of security. Jessy and Cleo jumped onto the sides of the car and held for dear life. Jake snapped back around and quickly unplugged his laptop, shoving it back into his backpack.

“The installation is finished. Let’s get out of here before the cops arrive!” Jake said in a hurry.

The two ran for the door so fast their wigs fell off. MC nearly tripped over her shoes as they entered the hallway so she ripped them off and Jake followed suit. Running in their rainbow-coloured socks, they bumped into maids and cooks as they made their way for the servant’s entrance. At some point they lost their red noses, but they couldn’t remember when. As they exited the building, Dan was driving the clown car into the van with Jessy and Cleo still on holding on. MC ran for the driver’s side door while Jake went for the passenger side. They jumped in just as the girls closed the backdoors tight. MC swiftly turned the van on and put it into the reverse gear. She went backwards so quickly, she nearly hit some of the security guards, but sped forwards before they could recover. Luckily the security gate was already open to let a catering van through when MC pushed through in front of them and made it back out onto the open road. In the distance they could hear approaching sirens, but she quickly regained her cool and dropped back down to the speed limit, hiding amongst the everyday traffic on the road.

“Oh my God!” Cleo cried out from the back. “That was nuts!”

“Did we do it?” Jessy asked. “Please tell me we did it.”

MC glanced over at Jake, who was wiping the makeup off his face with a towel. He nodded to MC in confirmation.

“We did it,” she announced.

Later that night social media erupted when phone camera footage of Dan driving the clown car with Jessy and Cleo hanging on top while being chased by security was posted to Tiktok. Thankfully due to the heavy makeup and costumes, no one could identify them. Within the following days documents were leaked to the internet detailing Jorge Santos’ dirty techniques and scams to drive property prices up and down as he saw fit, but unsurprisingly no one managed to connect the two events together. Mystery Investigators, Inc. were successful once again.

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake #duskwood dan #duskwood cleo #duskwood jessy #duskwood jake x mc #tw: clowns

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countess-bathory-erzsebet · 2 years

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The Missing Page

This is a writing exercise to imagine what might have happened on one of the days that Jonathan did not write. I have tried to keep to the style of the book as much as possible.

Hypnosis, some biting, implied DraculaXJonathan. Nothing explicit happens.

May 21st (?)

A page torn from Jonathan Harker’s journal, written in shorthand

The days slip away from me, and I think that if I do not record the date in this book, I may not know it at all. I am certain that it has been days since that dreadful encounter with the she-devils and I am just as certain that some days have passed since the Count tasked me with writing letters. But I cannot say for sure how many days it has been. The fog of exhaustion makes it difficult to discern when one day ends and another begins. I have guessed at the date to keep with my own conventions.

I must keep this record lest my dreams bleed further into my day. In my waking hours I feel as though I have not slept, though I know for certain that I have. The terrible uncanny clarity of my dreams makes sleep undeniable. But weariness haunts my every day, and my body aches though I do not know why. There may be sleep within these walls, but there is certainly little rest.

As long as I have slept under this roof I have experienced nightmares, but they have grown stranger since I became aware of the devil’s stalking me. I am quite certain that they wait just behind that closed door for the moment when the Count will deem me disposable. The letters have made it quite certain that I will never leave.

In these hours after waking, I feel as tired as the night before like I have not slept for a moment. I will try to record the memory of the dream before it fades. It was like so many others, so this entry should serve as an example of the strange visions that torment me.

I dreamt that I was once again exploring the halls of the castle. I am certain that I was looking for another unlocked door through which I might escape. The limbs had the heaviness that only dreams can bring, and I moved almost languidly where I had moved with urgency during the day. I felt that I knew my goal, though the map of the castle remains a mystery to me.

I found the first door that I tried unlocked. It was a grand one at the top of a staircase that I am quite certain I have never seen before.

I am haunted by the sight that I dreamed behind the door. The Count waited for me, his imposing gaze fixed upon me. Even in dreams the coldness of his gaze sends a chill down my spine. At times he seems more wolf than man. He beckoned to me with a single longer finger, ever imperious.

Though I knew the danger of the man, I obeyed his gesture. In my dreamlike state it did not occur to me to object. Any words that I might have mustered stuck in my throat. He said nothing, but I felt that I knew his commands to the letter. I could not turn my gaze away from his eye.

It was an odd kind of detachment. I moved though I had no illusion of the danger. Even as I write these words, I can feel the Count’s long sharp fingers grazing over the skin of my neck as he surveyed the bare flesh. I knew, though no one had instructed me, that I should hold perfectly still as he tilted my chin.

I can feel the shadows of the hands everywhere that they traveled. Under my shirt, over chest, and other places I dare not even voice here. Those sharp fingernails left marks everywhere that they touched. My gaze never left his face, and yet I could feel every line that he drew on my skin.

I do not know how to make sense of it. Perhaps my mind made his tyrannical manifest in those hands. He laid them where he pleased as he held me helplessly transfixed by his eyes.

The last moment of the dream must have been born of the memory of those women. The Count bent over me just as that blonde devil did. His touch was nearly gentle, but just as predatory as those women as he leaned closer. Though he spoke little, he did say as he leaned close to me, “My dear Jonathan.”

I could only think that he had forgotten to say “friend” in his usual address. How strange that my dreams should forget a single word.

There was the strangest sensation, like a needle pricking my neck. But the strangeness of the dream kept me distant from the pain. In a way, the feeling was pleasurable, like a release. I knew something with the kind of certainty that shook my soul: The relation between he and I was sealed by what those women had called a kiss. He is the predator and I am nothing but his prey.

I should not dare to write such words. If I was better rested I would not think such shameful things. Mina must never read these words.

After that, I remember very little.

I have the vaguest memory of sheets that felt like silk and of arms around me. Perhaps carrying me as he has once already.

How strange everything is in this place, even my own dreams. I fear the man, and yet my dreams bring me to his chambers.

Even now, I can remember the sensation as I lay my hand on my throat. Dreams leave no mark in the light of day.

Unless….is that blood I feel?

God, it cannot be.

#dracula fanfic #dracula fic #dracula x jonathan #draculonathan

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jsjajsjsjs · 6 months

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I have nothing I post right now so here! Have some journal entry’s by Lincoln Rowley from the book linked im doing for a school project!!💟💟

Tw: mentions of swastikas, the holocaust and stuff of that nature so if any of that makes you uncomfortable DNI

ALL MADE UP BTW NONE OF THIS HAS ACTUALLY HAPPENED IN REAL LIFE!!

Monday, September 20th 2021

Ever since I drew that first swastika, we’ve had to suffer through some stupid tolerance education. Luckily todays the last day we have to suffer through hell just because of me being stupid, all though… I’m starting to regret it because of what a swastika means and what it represents. Ever since I’ve found that out I’ve been starting to feel like a jerk, especially since we have a Jewish kid, well girl, in our school, Dana. I wasn’t really trying to spread hate around the school, I was just trying to do something stupid since our Dino poop prank didn’t work. That’s all that really happened I guess so, goodnight i guess? Wait hold on, why am I saying good night to a journal? Ehh never mind. So… at school today while we were in the gym for the assembly, they pulled a banner down for the baseball team and it had another swastika on it… but… i didn’t draw this one so.. that means someone else is doing this, and especially on the last day of tolerance education. That’s just a jerk move and obviously it isn’t someone trying to do something stupid like I was, this person is trying to spread hate around the school and it’s all because of me and me trying to one up the failed Dino poop prank. Man… now I just feel like an idiot because I started this whole thing, and nobody knows it was me. So when people find out I drew the first one… they will think I’m the one who drew them all! Oh no, what if all of my friends and family hate me for this when they find out? What would happen then… I don't wanna know! Worst part about the whole swastika thing is that more might show up, all because of me.

Tuesday, September 21st 2021

Mom told me that grandma was Jewish today… Now my mistake has turned into a massive screw up on my part. I can’t believe I'm half Jewish and I drew a swastika on the atrium wall in school for EVERYONE to see. Now when grandma finds out I drew a swastika, I'm gonna be in a LOT more trouble, even though I was already gonna be in a lot of trouble before this. Oh boy, the rest of this school year is going to be horrible for me with the guilt of drawing a swastika following me around AND more swastikas beginning to show up around the school because of ME. I feel so stupid for drawing a swastika now, I mean, I have this whole week so far but now that I know what swastikas represent, man, I feel stupid. Well, I was thinking about having a bar-mitzvah as kind of a way to forget about me drawing a swastika and apologize for drawing a swastika. I could ask dana for some help study for it if I do have a bar-mitzvah, but she might think I’m just playing around with and joking about having a bar-mitzvah, but it’s worth a shot so that’s what I’ll try and do, ask dana if she can help me study for my bar-mitzvah, if I have one..

Wednesday, September 22nd 2021

So I asked mom and dad if I could have a bar-mitzvah and dad was quite reluctant about agree but he agreed so now I just have to ask Dana if she can help me study for it, which will probably be a no without any context or story to go behind why I’m having a bar-mitzvah but that’s okay! I can explain why, though still knowing that grandma is Jewish is making my mind flood with regret over drawing a swastika but this is my way of apologizing, by having bar-mitzvah! But what if the news comes out before I can have my bar-mitzvah and everyone hates me and nobody comes to my bar-mitzvah and I’m outcasted in the town and- actually… no… I won’t let my bad thoughts distract me from my goal of having a bar-mitzvah and apologizing for drawing a swastika in the school. Also something big is starting tomorrow! We’re making a paper chain that is 6 million links long to represent the 6 million victims of the holocaust, and I was the one who came up with the idea, actually, Caroline did but I’ll take the credit since everyone thinks I came up with the idea and started it all, which I didn’t but, you know. And it all started at a student council meeting, which I don’t normally go to but meh I went this time, and because of that, everyone in the school came as well, even jordie and Michael came! That made Caroline really proud as well, so proud and excited that she screeched when we all agreed on making a paper chain. I was also quite excited but.. not so excited as to screech in front of the whole school, even Mr. Bradamis. The library was packed full of kids to, to the point where there weren’t enough seats for everyone to sit and half of the kids had to stand in the library while we came up with the ideas and then finally settled on making a paper chain, that Mr. Bradamis was very reluctant about doing so, since he thought we would run out of construction paper before we even make it to 1 million links but we convinced him, I think. Well good enough to get him to agree on letting us try and reach 6 million links, which I think we can do, easily. I’m a little nervous though , because what if when we get to school tomorrow there’s ANOTHER swastika somewhere in the school and it’s all because one person is trying to prove a point about swastikas and how they're okay to draw anywhere, which they 100% aren’t. What makes me feel even worse about drawing it, is that one of my best friends, Michael, found MY mess up and now some think it was him who drew the swastika..

Thursday, September 23rd 2021

Today was horrible, we found another swastika just this time it was outside and painted in a bright white colour on a dark, metal dumpster. I didn’t paint this one so I’m really confused on who keeps painting them, could it be one of my friends? No, they wouldn’t! I was playing twister with Caroline and a few others when it showed up so now they know it wasn’t me! It would be impossible, the paint still looked fresh and I couldn’t have painted it because like I said, I had been playing twister with Caroline and others when it showed up. On a happier note, I asked Dana if she could help me, and like I thought, she thought I was joking and said no, but after I told her my grandma's story and how I’m half Jewish she agree and invited me over for dinner at her house tonight so we can study together for it and she can help me with it. My parents already agreed to let me go over to Dana’s house tonight to study so that’s a win in my book. But I still can’t believe that someone would become a copycat of me and begin to draw swastikas all over the school. Everyone was shocked about just 1 showing up in the school but now there’s more and people know this is someone who is really REALLY trying to spread hate, and it’s not me… though everyone will think that I drew the other ones if News comes out about me drawing the first one, but that’s kind of impossible because HOW would they know or find out I was the person to draw the first swastika, it’s not like they have cameras on me 24/7 and watch my every move everyday all day, right? How would they find out about me drawing it at all? But what if they have cameras in the school that caught my every move on camera and now they know it’s me who drew the first swastika and they’re waiting for The perfect time to bring me to the office and make me confess to drawing it and then it ruins the rest of my life!? No no! I mean.. the school probably has cameras but the whole part about “now they know it’s me who drew the first swastika and they’re waiting for the perfect time to bring me to the office and ma,e ,e confess to drawing it and then ruin the rest of my life ” that was probably just me over thinking it all.. I hope.. that whole tolerance education thing has made me feel horrible, I mean, I felt horrible the whole time after it but now that I’m having a bar-mitzvah, it’s making me feel worse and that the rabbi is just going to turn me away and not let me have my bar-mitzvah because I was being stupid one day and decided to try and get back at my dad for taking me out of soccer and for the Dino poop prank failing on us… I didn’t mean to cause people to become scared to go to school because what if another swastika shows up. This whole situation is all happening because of me and my dumb, stupid mistake. I wish I could just go back in time and never have drawn that swastika because, A. We wouldn’t have had to suffer through tolerance education for 3 weeks, B. We wouldn’t have a copycat, copying the first swastika, I drew, and now more are popping up and C. We wouldn’t have to try and make a paper chain, 6 million links long, which I’m not complaining about but, we could have done something with less glue and paper.

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iso-enokuthula · 1 year

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I've been trying to better myself lately, mostly with like self-care, hobbies, that kind of stuff is suppose to make you a well rounded and interesting person. Something I feel I have been lacking in deeply for the last 4 years. Which really sucks. I haven't let myself really think about covid, what it did to me, what it took. A huge chuck of my young adult life, just fucking gone and that really fucking sucks. My mom died 3 weeks before my 21st birthday, I was already in a bad place, depressed, stressed. I already wasn't going to be doing much but I can convince myself that I would have healed and would have been able to have some semblance of a life. But quarantine took that chance. I don't know why its easier to blame covid, cause people die all the time, there's no stopping that but a pandemic doesn't come around very often and its not your fault. How you handle someone dying feels like more your fault. So i guess in blaming covid its more like blame shifting, its not my fault. Well, even if it isn't my fault it is my responsibility. How i handle it is up to me, act don't react. Act don't react, I've heard that thrown around on "Vapid Healing" tiktok but I've never really given it much thought till now. when something happens to you, what do you do? DO you have big emotions that paralyze you, do you sit and think about what is happening to you, becoming bitter, victimed, sad boy about it. That's the reacting, its bad and it can be debilitating. Paralyzing, you get stuck in the tsunami and subsequent flood of you thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Act, do something. When something happens to you and it makes you have big emotions, what is something you can DO to help yourself right now. Go on a walk. Write out the problem and list 5 solutions, them workout to the solution to the first 3. But that's for further away healthier life. Not reacting is very difficult and we aren't there yet. But it is the goal. So you've found yourself floundering in the flood of emotions and its time to act. More often than not, its just a matter of standing up. We've all seen those little 'scenes'?? were a person thinks they're in deep water and they start panicking for a few seconds only to realize they can touch. and then they just stand up and feel silly/embarrassed for how freaked out they were. I think its kind of the same. And once you realize you can stand up, you may be very upset with yourself for how long you panicked, when you could've just stood up. But don't linger in that either. its another react trap!! [also: staying aware of when you are in a react or act decision - very difficult] Now that you are standing, in disappointment and embarrassment, start walking.. but where? This is another difficult part - lots of difficult parts, this is why healing is so hard and not everyone does it. but its only hard because you're doing it for the first time. Its only hard because you don't have the skill set yet. Ok, walking where. you need to take inventory and damage assessment. very uncomfortable things to do. I've been floundering and panicking for 4ish years. where am I. (this is gonna get ugly) a 25 yr old college drop out with no skills, no hobbies, few "friends", and no life experience. ew. that all makes me want to go back in the water. cause treading in misery feels a lot better than standing pathetically in that puddle. welp, were up anyway.

Inventory: what do you have? technically time, there's always time to do things, figuring shit out in your early 20s is bogus. if I bite my tongue and bear it, technically i still have Time. Money: luckily money is not much of a problem, silver linings of a bunch of old white people dying. Autonomy: I have no kids and nothing holding my down to keep me from doing things. well I have dogs but that is work-aroundable. they're small and they can go anywhere and they're pretty great. Skills that I do have: though they may be rusty: writing, talking to people (1 on 1 or in small intimate settings) preparing things, I love to work on things

Damage assessment: i don't have the skills I'm expecting to have, i think, projection? i just don't feel like I'm at where my peers are at? How hard are these skills to fake until i feel like I've developed them enough? experiences - well you're not gonna get those panicking. better start now. what experiences? how do you get them? make a plan health - this is a hard one for me. after 4 years of being depressed, and I've been using the analogy of panic drowning in water but in reality that looks a lot like laying in bed wishing. wishing you were somewhere else of someone else, wish you had don't things differently, wishing fantasies to make reality go away. its all very painful hating yourself and the life you've forced yourself to endure. Health has definitly gone way down hill.

Choices / Paths (where to go out of water) fix up and sell house to move back home with dad and take care of him -fix up house anyway (itll make you feel better) just in case you have to go home full time suddenly. Best one -when to go back to dad? how to know when he needs me vs when hell ask if ever. -how long will i be there? -what to do once im there? -get a job to develope skills - bonus: credit score -find hobbies and get better at them "developing skills" and then find groups to talk to people within those interest. talk to people is good for well being

As you begin managing and truly implementing these things in your life, youll find more things can be added and removed from each list. maybe you realize there are something you have that you didnt realize, maybe theres something you thought you had but turns out nope. maybe in damages something isnt as bad as it seems, maybe something needs more attention than you realized. new choices come along after plans are set in motion, some choice you realize you don't actually want.

act dont react.

well i think thatll be all for now. Its good to take these things in baby steps, dont overwhelm yourself and start floundering again. Also, too much planning i have found is also bad, you make so many plans or commitments that the next day all of it is overwhelming and too much to do so you dont do any of it. 3 things to do the next day are a lot easier than 10. so 3 things to do:

list what needs to be fixed order those things in most time consuming - construction wise the least time consuming - make detailed list on how to get it done and set that in motion.

#dear diary

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4stars-uswnt · 3 years

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My Muse, My Valentine [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Not sure if you’re accepting any request but can you write a cp x photographer gf where her gf surprised her at man u, like her gf secretly transfer there to be with cp. Thanks

A/N: please ignore some of the inconsistencies this story has with reality :) but anyways... hope you enjoy and have a happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) and remember it’s a day about LOVE, whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, or self ❤️

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whine, as you watch your girlfriend pack her suitcase.

“I know, babe. I’m gonna miss you too, so much.” Christen leans down to quickly peck your lips, before continuing to fold her clothes.

You and Christen had been dating for almost three years now, having met after you’d photographed one of the USWNT’s matches. You instantly felt an attraction to the curly-haired forward, your camera always drifting towards her wherever she was on the pitch.

After you’d posted a couple of your photos on your Instagram, which Christen made a point to like and repost, you gathered up the courage to approach her after a game, and thus began your relationship.

With yours and Christen’s busy schedules, it was sometimes hard to find time for each other, but you made it work, sharing an apartment in Portland during the offseason and flying out for matches when you could. But being a sports photographer did have its benefits, as your work often led you to spending more time with your girlfriend and admiring her speed down the field and score goals.

But now, with the pandemic, as the NWSL was struggling to field games, you found yourself with little work. Christen herself was not quite satisfied with the league’s plan for the season, so when Tobin proposed the idea of going to the WSL, she desperately wanted to, yearning to get back on the pitch.

At first, when Christen approached you with the subject, you immediately opposed, not wanting to be so far from your girlfriend for such a long amount of time. Additionally, with COVID, it would be nearly, if not completely, impossible for you to visit. But after a blowout fight and discussing it further, you realized that this is what would be best for Christen and her career.

“Do you have to go?” You pout, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.

“You know I do, (Y/N/N).” Christen playfully rolls her eyes.

“Humph.”

“Babe, come on, don’t make me feel worse about leaving you.”

“Then don’t,” you quip, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, pulling her down on the bed with you.

“Babe!” Christen squeals, as you blow raspberries into her skin.

You lift your head from the crook of her neck, your eyes locking with hers. “I know that you have to go,” you admit seriously. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know that this is what’s best for your career.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she says earnestly, giving you a small smile. “We’ll text and FaceTime everyday.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You cup her face and bring her in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on yours. “I also know that you’re gonna kill it over there in Manchester. The WSL isn’t gonna know what hit them.”

Christen ducks her bashfully, a small blush arising on her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Chris. I love you, too.”

“Good.” She gives you a quick peck, as she gets up from the bed. “Now, either quit bothering me or help me. My flight is early tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even finished packing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—————

It had been a little over five months since you’d dropped Christen off at the airport and she left for Manchester. Despite the constant texting and the nightly FaceTime calls, you couldn’t help but ache for your girlfriend. Without her, the apartment was lonelier and the bed felt bigger.

It had helped that your work had started back up, first with some freelance work and then with the NWSL fall series starting, which gave you something to do and kept you fairly busy.

Currently, you were sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee, as you edited some photos for the Thorns. Just as you were saving your work and closing Lightroom, about to shut your computer, a ping alerts a new email in your inbox.

Switching tabs, you notice the message is from an unfamiliar address, so you presume it’s a new client. You click and open it, your eyes widening, as you scan the email:

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I noticed your professional portfolio through many referrals, particularly your work form the World Cup. I am writing on behalf of the BBC News Media Centre, and we’re looking for an excellent sports photographer to join the team, specifically to cover the FA Women’s Super League and the Premier League.

Your experience is outstanding, adn your work speaks for itself. I think you’d be a great fit for this role, and I’d love to tell you more about it and hear more from you.

Would you like to set up a phone or Zoom call soon? If so, let me know when you’re available.

Best,

Charles Smith

Director of Media Relations at BBC Sport

You quickly reread the email, and then reread it again, just to make sure you’re not dreaming. This was too good to be true. But you shake yourself out of your stupor and quickly type out a response to set up a phone call as soon as possible.

After hitting send, you shut your computer with excitement and throw your hands up in the air.

“Yes!” You exclaim into the empty apartment, as you throw your fist in the air and jump off the barstool.

Knowing you needed to distract yourself, otherwise you’d just be staring at your computer, eagerly awaiting the response, you decided to go on a run.

Jogging through the city, you think of your girlfriend and your potential reunion if this job offer worked out. You decided that if you did in fact take this position, you’d surprise Christen at one of her matches, hopefully one that you’d be able to photograph.

As soon as you arrive back in your apartment, you make a beeline for your laptop. You anxiously open your inbox and beam when you see Charles had replied to set up a Zoom call at 9:30 tomorrow morning. You excitedly type out pleasantries, telling him you’re looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, you were in an increasingly good mood. So later that evening, when Christen called you for your routine FaceTime, she could tell something was up.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“Can I not be happy to talk to my girlfriend?” You tease, a huge grin plastered onto your face.

“You can,” Christen trails off, not quite believing you. “But you have the weird giddy look you get when something’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Just had a good day,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Okay,” the forward accepts, still eyeing you suspiciously. “Anyways, you know She Believes is in a couple weeks, are you working the tournament?”

“Yup,” you nod and make a mental note to mention that to Charles tomorrow.

The two of you continue updating each other, chatting about topics ranging from what you had for breakfast that day to re-inc’s upcoming drop.

“Alright,” Christen yawns. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

You check your phone and see it’s 5:37 pm, meaning it’s almost midnight in Manchester.

“Okay,” your eyes softening at the sight of your sleepy girlfriend. “Good night, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night.”

After ending the call and shutting your laptop, you head into the kitchen to make some dinner for yourself, getting on with your evening.

—————

The next morning, you anxiously await for Charles to begin the Zoom call, nervously bouncing your knee and biting your lip.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Charles greets, his face appearing on your screen.

“Good morning. Or rather good afternoon?” You correct with a light chuckle, to which he reciprocates.

“Well, as you know from my email, we are looking for a photographer to join our team, and from many referrals, you seem to be a very good candidate,

“So, I was thinking maybe we could look at your portfolio really quickly and then hash out the logistics to see if this is something that could work out.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, as you pull up some of your best pictures and share your screen.

The two of you look through your photos, many from the 2019 World Cup, some of the Olympics, and a few from random NWSL games.

“Well, (Y/N), your work is quite impressive. If you’re ready, and you’re seriously interested in this position, we can talk specifics, scheduling, all that good stuff,” Charles offers.

“I’m definitely interested, but can I just preface by saying that my girlfriend is a major part of this decision, so depending on what she wants to do at the end of the season will impact my contract.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting your candor. “Your girlfriend plays in the WSL?”

“Yeah, well, technically only for this season. Her contract is up in May,” you explain.

“(Y/N), to be completely frank, we’re looking to hire because a couple of our photographers had some personal issues due to COVID and had to leave mid-season,” Charles reveals. “So if it turns out that your girlfriend wants to go back to the NWSL, then we can work that out. And if she wants to stay, and you end up liking it here and you fit in well, we can also work that out. We’re pretty flexible.”

You sigh in relief, giving him a small smile. “Wow, thank you so much. So what would my contract look like?”

“Well, we can sign you to three month contract with the option for extension,” he offers, as you nod along enthusiastically.

“That sounds great,” you exclaim, beaming. “And just to let you know, I’ve already signed on to work the She Believes tournament from the 18th to the 21st.”

“That actually aligns with the WSL’s international break, and there are a couple Premier League matches that weekend, but I think we can manage, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You guys are too kind and so flexible. I really appreciate it so much,” you say earnestly.

“It’s really just us being desperate for a good photographer,” Charles jokes.

“Either way, I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“We’re excited for you to join our team,” he reciprocates. “So, in terms of when you’ll begin, I honestly would like you to come over as soon as possible so that you can get settled and get acclimated.”

“I am honestly ready to start whenever you’ll have me.”

“How about next week? The Manchester Derby is on Friday, and honestly, given your portfolio, I’d love you to photograph that match,” the British man admits.

“That’s perfect!” You were in complete awe of how perfectly everything was working out. Photographing a Man United match as your first job meant you could surprise Christen, maybe as an early Valentine’s gift.

“Great,” Charles smiles.

The two of you discuss and finalize your contract and the logistics of you starting the job. Once everything’s settled and you each have the information you need, you wrap up the call.

“Well, thank you so much, Charles, for this offer, and I can’t wait to see you next Tuesday.”

“I can’t wait to work with you and meet you. See you next week. Cheers.”

After ending the Zoom call, you begin to make a COVID test appointment, book your flight, and arrange your hotel room for the few days that Christen doesn’t know you’re there, preparing yourself for moving across the world.

—————

After landing in London, getting settled into your hotel, and meeting with the BBC team and the other photographers, you were now on your way to the Manchester Derby.

In the back of the black cab, you pull out your phone to text a good luck text to Christen.

It was difficult to keep your surprise a secret, especially when you were actually in England, because it was much more difficult to FaceTime without her noticing your change in setting. You had to make up the excuse that you were swarmed with editing and preparing for the upcoming Thorns trainings.

As you pull up to the Academy Stadium, you hear your phone ding.

Chris ❤️

Thanks babe. Miss and love you 😘

You quickly type out a response, before heading into the building.

(Y/N/N) 💗

Love you too. I miss u too but go kick butt.

The match was exhilarating. Not only were you a sports photographer, but you were also a huge fan of the game, enjoying a good game when you see one.

You watched in awe, the level and style of play significantly different from than NWSL. While snapping hundreds of photos of both teams, your camera would always somehow land back on your girlfriend.

Your heart ached for the curly-haired forward, as you missed her dearly. Until you saw her back on the pitch, you hadn’t really realized that you missed watching her play the game that she’d mastered, her movements around the pitch and on the ball effortless and elegant.

As the ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the half, you scroll through some of the photos you’d taken, deleting some of the blurry and unfocussed ones.

A smile immediately forms on your face when you see a picture of Christen during warmups with a huge grin on her face. You spend all of halftime editing said photo and putting together an Instagram post for your girlfriend.

About fifteen minutes later, the teams take the pitch and you go back to doing your job. Throughout the second half, you could tell that Christen was getting increasingly frustrated, her team getting down 3-0 with only about five minutes left.

You watch as the players high five and hug each other, and you want nothing more than to run onto the field to be with your girlfriend, but you had a plan to stick to.

As the team goes back into the locker room, you pull out your phone to post a photo on Instagram and then you shoot a quick text to Tobin:

(Y/N)🤓:

toby go check out my ig post :))

Back in the Man United locker room, after Casey went through her post match speech, Tobin checks her phone and sees a text from you. The injured forward playfully rolls her eyes at your message but follows your directions.

Upon opening the social media app, Tobin raises her eyebrows, her eyes widening. She glances across the room to see if her best friend had seen your post, but Christen was minding her own business, changing into sweats after her shower.

“Chris!” The older forward calls over to the other woman. “Have you seen your girlfriend’s Instagram post?”

Christen furrows her brows in confusion. “What? No, what is it?”

Tobin waves her friend over and shows her the post:

Liked by mrapinoe, ashlynharris24, and 638,231 others

yourusername: My muse, my valentine.

“As I sat and looked at her

and the rolling hills she sat upon

I thought,

what amazing luck I have

that the world had created

such beautiful things

and given me the eyes to see them.”

- atticus

tagged: christenpress

- - - - -

mrapinoe: Stunning pictures, (Y/N). Love you guys 💖

alikrieger: These photos are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

alexmorgan13: love this 😍😍

cdunn19: Beautiful!

glennondoyle: Love love love love this!!

ashlynharris24: Holy shit! Are you in Manchester????

↳lavellerose: Was this today??

↳sammymewyy: Oh my gosh it was!

↳kellyohara: Valentine’s Day surprise for Pressy?? 👀

Christen zooms in on the photo in the center, her eyes widening when she realizes that it is from today’s match.

“How did she get that picture?”

Tobin mentally slaps her forehead at her friend’s denseness. “Knowing (Y/N), she probably took it.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s in the States,” Christen states and shakes her head, dumbfounded.

“Actually,” you speak up, stepping into the locker room, deciding to make your presence known. “I’m right here.”

“(Y/N)?” Your girlfriend looks up at you, her mind in a state of shock.

“Hey, love,” you greet shyly.

Once her mind caught up with reality, Christen runs and jumps into your body, kissing you passionately but briefly and wrapping you into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe your here,” she whispers into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe, so much.”

Unwrapping herself from the hug, Christen stares at you in awe. “What… how are you here?”

“We can talk about that later,” you give her another quick kiss. “But right now, I just wanna spend time with you. Maybe we can grab some dinner? You can show me around Manchester, considering I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here.”

Your girlfriend looks at you puzzled, but you just give her a wink with a small smirk on your face.

“Well, c’mon lets get out of here.”

—————

Back at Christen’s apartment, the two of you sit down for a nice and casual, but romantic, dinner you’d prepared along with a bottle of red wine.

After catching up, the forward finally decides to address the elephant in the room. “So how are you here? What’s going on, (Y/N/N)? You said earlier that you’d be spending a lot of time in Manchester, what does that mean? I’m so confused. Not that I’m grateful that you’re here right now and that I get to see you, but I thought you were working She Believes, and—“

“Chris,” you cut off your girlfriend’s endearing rambling. “Babe, you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” she blushes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I got a job with BBC Sport till the end of the season,” you answer her parade of questions.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nod, while taking a sip of your water. “It means I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

Not having the adequate words to express her joy and excitement, Christen gets up from her chair, walks over to sit in your lap, and connects you lips for a searing kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes, rubbing her nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you quickly peck her lips while rubbing circles on her hip. “But as much as I love you and all this romance, we gotta get going soon.”

Your girlfriend tilts her head in confusion.

“Do the words ‘She Believes’ ring a bell?” You tease. “If I remember correctly, our flight leaves in a couple hours.”

“You’re coming with me?” Christen asks, her brain trying to wrap around the fact that her girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in almost five months, would now be living with her in England and flying back to the States with her for the next week.

“Of course, Chris,” you give her a cheeky smile, along with a kiss to her nose, as you quote a book Becky had convinced the whole team to read. “You should know by now that I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press imagine #christen press imagines #uswnt #christen press

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whaleofatjme1920 · 2 years

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Dearly beloved, Haha, it's fine. Japanese is not easy to master. I don't even know all the Kanjis, therefore I'm not a master at it too (lmao) We could study together if you get back. I wonder if you ever do. Please get some rest soon. He'll understand, I think. But please, rest. You deserve it. Have you taken any medications yet? You gotta have some or those migraines are gonna get worst. I remember having a migraine for a week and not taking any medications because it was an exam week. I was stupid thinking that medications would make me tired and I was afraid that I'd forget everything I learned. Again, me being and thinking dramatically. Well, at least, that about me hasn't changed. The dorms are just something I'm not used to yet. My batchmates are fine, just the seniors. Can't complain but oh well. Remember the friend I told you about? He's first in command of taking care of the batch. I'm his assistant. He's a great leader, that's why I am worried. He's different a bit and I wanna know why so maybe I could help. But, oh well, maybe it's just me overthinking. I'm in a bit worried state right now. One of my friends is in the hospital. Turns out, he will get surgery soon. I came to visit him and when I left, he gave me a thumbs up with a smile. God, why is this happening to him? Talking about friends, I am at one of my friends place with some other friends. We're here to hang out and celebrate Christmas together soon. And yes, I'm staying here. I think that you won't come back for Christmas because of the 'tall man'. It's fine. I hope you have a great Christmas! Don't stress too much! Have fun! Anyways, ah motel TVs. They're not really that bad for me. They just don't have our preferred content. My cat just gave a meow hahaha. I was watching football while writing this. It was the AFF Suzuki Cup. Cheering for Malaysia. They just won with 2-0 goals playing against Cambodia. In conclusion, well played. Cambodia has good players. I'm looking forward to another match between these two. I felt happy or overwhelmed, to be precise when I received your letter from Elsie. I have to thank her for this. Wish you were here too. This is the last letter that you'll receive before my study chart goes high again. I am back it the caffeine marathon baby~ Tim, get some rest, eat well and stay hydrated. Hope this letter finds you well <3 Sincerely, yours, Kayte.

To Elsie, Thank you for doing this. It's very sweet! Don't stress too much k? Rest if you need to! And my friends said 'Hi'! They were here when I wanted to send this ^^ They asked if you write anything else and I told them you did. They read some of it. They told me your writings are ✨G R E A T✨as well as your doodles~ DRINK WATER AND EATT <3 Sincerely, @caffeineaddicted-noonie

[Disclaimer: Letters To Those you Hold Dear is a special event I'm holding from December 9th - whenever I feel like closing it! The absolute deadline is December 21st. Find guidelines here so you can send a letter or two to those you hold dear <3]

Hey there sweetheart,

Spending time with you is perfect in my opinion. Whether we're studying new languages or talking on the rooftop, it's all really good to me. Thanks for reminding me about my meds, I've been... busy... Kinda forgetting them. Probably why the coughing fits have been acting up so bad recently. Wish you could see the eye roll I just did. If you're a drama diva, you're my drama diva. You make things interesting, and well, i love you. Don't know if you're overthinking it, if I'm being honest. Working with new people in positions of power can be really hard, trust me, I know. Every now and then the tall guy has us merge teams and let's just say that's less than fun depending on the leader. Some proxies don't bend for anything and I hate them for it. Still, I think you'll be alright. You always are.

I hope your friend stays safe as well. If he was introduced to this life, I would've sent him over to EJ. Man can help anyone given the right equipment. Tell your friends I said hi an that I hope you guys do festive things together. Tall guy might give us a window of time soon, but if I miss Christmas on the actual day, we'll just celebrate it a little later - no harm no foul. We deserve to do cute couple shit too haha.

We watch the local news most days. It's kinda abysmal because none of us even care and we hide our work so well that it's not even giving us the satisfaction of reporting on it. Toby is slowly going mad over it. Don't blame him. If we hear about the weather one more time... Y'know, I wish I knew more about that stuff. But go Malaysia! When I was younger, I liked basketball. Hoodie did too, we used to play often and we were... he was better at it than I was but that's because the man is a giraffe. Elsie got Jeff's dog to ferry the messages across, said it was just "her job", and no need for thanks but... When I see her I'll pass that on for you. I'm going to miss your words bunches. Good luck with your studying and literally everything else, but I know you got this. Get some rest yourself, and dream of me!

Yours,

Tim

P.S. I love you.

Hi love bug,

Thank you so much! I'm glad you're finding enjoyment in this special event. I thought it would be nice for the holidays. Honestly I like writing letters to people. 5/10 if I have something important to talk about with someone, whether it be friendship problems, good things, bad, I'll send it in letter format because I find it... nice. i haven't done that in a while so writing these to make you guys happy is a nice resolve. Tell your friends I said hello, that I think that's very kind of them, and a huge thank you! Take care of yourself as well.

Lots of love,

Elsie

#letters to those you hold dear #tim wright headcanon #tim wright x reader #tim wright #masky headcanon #masky x reader #masky x reader #masky #creepypasta masky

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barschter000 · 3 years

Text

OWOWOW MY FANGAN

THANK YOU SO MUCH AT EVERYONE WHO IS INTERESTED IN THIS SERIOUSLY YOU CAN'T BELIEVE HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME MY HANDS ARE SHAKING (that's also why it took so long to post this akhdjwjs)

Baiko Omori – Ultimate Lucky Student

"My name is Baiko Omori, I am here as the Ultimate Lucky Student. The pleasure of meeting you is mine, my dear friends! There are actually quite many things that I'm talented at and hopefully, this academy helps me find my 'true Ultimate.'"

Birthday: March 11th (Pisces)

Blood Type: A+

Height: 165cm / 5'4”

Weight: 67kg / 148lbs

Likes: vintage 50s music, street food, grocery shopping

Dislikes: cockroaches, the smell of gasoline, betrayal

Baiko never means harm as he values life over everything else. He is friendly and considerate, always smiling. He offers help where he can, sometimes coming off as intrusive but never does something that would put him at a disadvantage. He has the habit of calling everyone his “dear friend” and is in general, quirky and a little detached from normality. When you're around him, you can't help but feel like there's something off but Baiko is too nice for you to bring that up.

Ei Hagakure – Ultimate Ghost Whisperer

"Name's Ei Hagakure, Ghost Whisperer. Sup? My gramps went to this school back in his days. Sadly didn't inherit his spiritual powers, so guess I'll substitute with a bit of science."

Birthday: April 29th (Taurus)

Blood Type: B+

Height: 177cm / 5'8”

Weight: 57kg / 126lbs

Likes: bad television shows, abandoned buildings, the pizza they have on Wednesday at her university's cafeteria

Dislikes: family fights, doctor's appointments, olives

Ei is a laid-back young scientist that leaves the world of academics in wonder at her more or less successful inventions. Her greatest goal is to prove the existence of ghosts based on scientific findings. Despite Ei's grand ambitions, she is relaxed and calm and just weird enough to get along with almost everybody.

Hideaki Yukiyama – Ultimate Mathematician

"Yukiyama Hideaki, Hideaki Yukiyama, Mathematician and the Ultimate at that! This class looks pretty alright so far. You shitwits seem like the type a smart boy like me can have fun with, hehe."

Birthday: May 2nd (Taurus)

Blood Type: 0+

Height: 156cm / 5'1”

Weight: 62kg / 137lbs

Likes: the feeling of chalk, messy notes, his own laugh

Dislikes: boredom, sitting straight, school uniforms

Contrary to what his talent might lead you to believe, Hideaki is actually a brat. Constantly in the search for mischief and entertainment, he likes to ridicule and annoy others. His genius lies hidden in his complicated speech and spectacular knowledge that he uses to confuse the people around him. All negativity and criticism towards his character simply bounces off him. It is not easy to befriend him as he believes that friends hinder him but deep down, he wishes for someone to get through his irritating personality to know him better.

Ichini – Ultimate Robotics Engineer

"My model's name is 1.2, that's Ichini for you. Ultimate Robotics Engineer. Be prepared to have that weirded-out look wiped off your faces, meatbags! Someday I'll drown this world in chaos and rule humanity with my machines!"

Birthday: August 13th (Leo)

Blood Type: 0-

Height: 210cm / 6'8”

Weight: 132kg / 291lbs

Likes: the smell of electricity, children's' shows, energy drinks

Dislikes: being photographed, asparagus, humanity

Ichini is a mean cyborg that has rejected humanity and all its aspects. Xe thinks xemself superior to everyone around xem because they are still human and will not survive the overthrow of the machines that xe is planning. Despite xir large, armed metal body though, Ichini is all bark, no bite and wishes to be more courageous and confident in xir choices.

Jun Nagao – Ultimate Escapologist

"My name is Jun Nagao, I'm the Ultimate Escapologist. There's nothing much about me, really. Sorry."

Birthday: September 25th (Libra)

Blood Type: AB-

Height: 171cm / 5'6”

Weight: 63kg / 139lbs

Likes: flower bouquets, art from the Romantic era, freshly laundered clothes

Dislikes: skin tight clothing, reading out loud, overcrowded subways

After his face was paralysed in a kidnapping incident, Jun has adopted the perception of him being emotionless and cold. As he usually dismisses others and their feelings, Jun is a loner. Because his talent stems from his continued abductions, he finds it distressing to be enrolled at Hope's Peak Academy but accepts his fate to ensure his own safety.

Kaida Tsutsumi – Ultimate Stock Broker

”Kaida Tsutsumi... Ultimate Stock Broker... That is all.”

Birthday: January 9th (Capricorn)

Blood Type: AB-

Chest: 82cm / 32”

Height: 153cm / 5'0”

Weight: 58kg / 128bs

Likes: coffee, Paganini, listening to the rain while falling asleep

Dislikes: the cold, bitter coffee, wool sweaters

Kaida is a small and timid girl, so shy that it is hard to imagine that she works at the stock market. Kaida is great with numbers and probabilities and rather spends time with diagrams and prices than with people. She only speaks as much as necessary and gives her answers clear and direct. Because of her reluctance to talk about herself, she is mostly seen alone but will get extremely attached to you the moment you show that you acknowledge her. It feels like she holds a secret that she can't reveal.

Kyo Kido – Ultimate Horror Author

"My name's Kyo. Uh, Kyo Kido, that's probably how you know me. I'm the Ultimate Horror Author? I'd offer to give out some autographs but my hands are kinda shaking right now cuz– Wow– Hope's Peak, y'know! So it's gonna look kinda ugly, ahah."

Birthday: November 21st (Scorpio)

Blood Type: 0+

Height: 180cm / 5’9”

Weight: 79kg / 174lbs

Likes: romance novels, romantic comedies, the clacking sound of typewriters

Dislikes: ink stains on his hand, sharp pencils, soup

Kyo is really just a normal teenager with a knack for writing; at least, that's what he believes. Like every other teenager, he is a little awkward and shy and, in contrast to his talent, not at all scary. However, Kyo's books manage to evoke such terror in his readership that it's dubbed and loved as 'Kido's curse'. Kyo is flattered but honestly can't handle the fame.

Maxis von Läuterbach – Ultimate Knight

"My name is Maxis von Läuterbach, wielding the title of the Ultimate Knight. It is not often that you see someone as wondrous as me, so my lieges, I am ever at your service."

Birthday: June 21st (Gemini)

Blood Type: AB-

Height: 182cm / 5'9"

Weight: 75kg / 165lbs

Likes: stained glass windows, historic castles, Belgian pralines

Dislikes: blisters, ignorance, ill-behaved children

Growing up surrounded by ruins of glorious pasts and with the wish to set themself off from their peers, Maxis chose to walk the path backwards and do everything in their power to become a historically accurate knight. Unfortunately, Maxis had miscalculated and noticed that a knight lives to serve, not to be served but there is no turning back now.

Shiori Ishimaru-Owada – Ultimate Team Captain

"I'm Shiori Ishimaru-Owada, proudly bearing the title of the Ultimate Team Captain! I'm excited to get along with y'all! Honestly, I don't really know why I'm at this academy, but as long as I make my Dads proud, I'm probably doing the right thing!"

Birthday: December 14th (Sagittarius)

Blood Type: AB+

Height: 185cm / 6'0”

Weight: 79kg / 174lbs:

Likes: racing games, exercise, cooking

Dislikes: reading, hospital stays, basements

Shiori is an intense and upbeat girl. She is a capable leader with strong beliefs that she defends well and at times, imposes on others without noticing. While not being truly talented at a singular sport, she has tried out many things and has always effortlessly attracted a group of allies around her, no matter where she went. She is kind and motivational and, strange for a teenage girl, very attached to her parents.

Tamae Shiroma – Ultimate Whistleblower

"I'm Tamae Shiroma, Ultimate Whistleblower. Pleasure. Before I get any complaints later: Know who you're talking to, alright?"

Birthday: May 21st (Gemini)

Blood Type: B+

Height: 159cm / 5'2”

Weight: 73kg / 161lbs

Likes: hot baths, spicy food, her sister

Dislikes: reality TV, sugary food, caterpillars

Famous for her small but well-placed leaks, Tamae is the tiny thorn in the side of many politicians. In the shithole that she considers the world, Tamae tries to find the truth as painful as it may be to some. She is wary and never fully trusts anyone, knowing that how dirty people play for their achievements. While talking to her, it always seems like she knows more than you've told her. That is probably true. At the cost of her anonymity, she is attending Hope's Peak where she is promised security. Her talent is her duty, whether she is happy with it or not.

Etsuya Iwata – Ultimate Opera Singer

"My name is but fleeting. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, a song of any other melody would sound as fine. For now, call me Etsuya Iwata, forever I am the Ultimate Opera Singer. Allow me to bring pleasure to your ears, my darlings!"

Birthday: July 9th (Cancer)

Blood Type: B-

Height: 174cm / 5'7”

Weight: 65kg / 143lbs

Likes: being on stage, tea, sightseeing

Dislikes: having to keep secrets, incompetence, boring drama

Etsuya is a charming lad that likes to bathe in the spotlight. He comes from renowned music schools and stages and he is aware the extend of his talent such as his vocal range, performance abilities, musical expertise or the languages he is fluent in. However, Etsuya is not arrogant, he rather aims to make people happy with his performances. It's easy to fall for his appeal and compliments but it's just as easy to notice that he is moody and picky and overall dramatic, and terrible at lying.

Rokuro Nakatani - Ultimate Fraud

"Rokuro Nakatani, sixth son of my generation. This school calls me the Ultimate Fraud yet there's no actual evidence for this claim. I fear they might have given me that title based on my sisters who were arrested for theft and forgery. Well, these are only two of my eight siblings, black sheeps aren't uncommon, right?"

Birthday: April 14th (Aries)

Height: 167cm / 5'6"

Weight: 66kg / 146lbs

Likes: lucky charms, rabbits, looking stylish

Dislikes: noisy places, manual labor, seaweed

Rokuro comes from a family of forgers and grew up in criminal ranks with limited contact to a normal life. He is used to being assessed and given a value and, just like everyone else in his clan, is a perfectionist through and through. His talent, artistic skills and his eye for detail all came naturally to him without much effort. Rokuro is the poster child of his family, earning him prestige and confidence but also pressure and envy from his parents and siblings. Towards others, he is condescending and belittling. Despite his standing in the Nakatani family and with his crafting abilities at hand, Rokuro often wonders if there is a way for him to create something original.

Miyoko Iwata – Ultimate DJ

"Miyoko Iwata, Ultimate DJ! The lil' hodgepodge I'm wearin' on my face isn't actually a laser or sumthin', it just helps me see. So no worries, I don't bite! Or at least, not that often."

Birthday: July 9th (Cancer)

Blood Type: B+

Height: 172cm / 5'6"

Weight: 68kg / 152lbs

Likes: bass, crowds, playing violin

Dislikes: the quiet, being lonely, salty instant meals

Miyoko is a young music producer that is known for her remixes and features and grew her large international fanbase through social media. With how many experiences she has made in so little time, she has matured quickly and developed a sort of maternal protection over those she holds dear. However, that protection often slips into violence. Miyoko lashes out and threatens people, sometimes pulling the knife she carries on her. There seems to be something hidden underneath her visor and neon clothes that Miyoko doesn't wish to talk about. She says that she is looking for something.

#fanganronpa #fangan #fangan oc

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thadelightfulone · 3 years

Text

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 6

November 21st - Part 3

DeeDee heard both her phone and computer go off at the same time. She sighed, turned away from the computer and picked up the phone. She decided to see what the girls had to say first.

Phyll: DeeDee. We can just hit the hookah spot tonight. No club.

Bev: Yeah, and you know you love the wings from Hakeem’s place. It’s a win-win for all of us.

“Ooooh, Hakeem’s wings.” Her stomach gurgled at the thought. “Ok, maybe not.”

DeeDee: Sorry ladies. I have a bottle of wine and a very interesting book calling my name. But you two have fun.

Bev: Fine. Next week, then?

DeeDee: Yes, Bev. Definitely next week, I have no class or work.

Bev: Great.

Phyll: Punk.

DeeDee: Love you both. Night.

Bev: Night.

Phyll: Yeah.

DeeDee slid the phone on the coffee table and picked up the computer. Now, back to her book. She clicked on Erik’s email and started to read.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Ms. DeeDee,

There is no need to pout. I promise you that.

So, you want a career in teaching. You love to see it. I think that is amazing.

It reminds me of the work I started when I first came to the Center. I used to run an afterschool science program for the local kids. With the same goal as you, I wanted more of us in STEM careers, looking out for us.

Reading. I wish I had more time to do it. A good book is always a great escape.

Speaking of which, what are you getting into tonight?

Mister Erik

“My night? Oh, just in front of my computer. Talking to a man, I didn’t even know existed until a week ago. Just spilling my guts.”

DeeDee never told anyone that her parents met at Southern, but something about Erik made her want to share that with him. Then realization dawned on her. It was another perfect set up for him to talk about his love life and he smoothly dodged it again.

“This damn man.” She rolled her eyes and got up to put the rest of the pizza away.

“And of course, he used to work with kids.” Like he couldn’t be anymore interesting. DeeDee sighed as her smile returned. She grabbed another bottle from the fridge. It was definitely about to be that kind of night.

DeeDee came back to the couch and picked up the notebook. She pulled out the neatly folded note, spread it flat and read it for the umpteenth time.

On paper, he seemed like a dream. Talking to him, even better. There is no way that he was not happily taken by some extremely lucky woman.

DeeDee wondered what it would have been like if she had met him while he was still at Southern. She was on campus back then. A shy and soft-spoken junior who lived in the chemistry labs on campus. And Erik obviously would have been in and out of those same labs, too.

It’s funny that they never did meet. “I would have remembered crossing paths with him.”

But then again, she didn’t meet Dr. O until he was a Grad Assistant for one of her organic chemistry classes. And she never thought, he would be her mentor when she joined the Ph.D program.

And then there’s that part. One degree of separation and it just has to be that he is friends with Dr. O. Erik is obviously entertaining her for professional reasons, and not because he could be interested in her romantically.

“Get it together Dee. He is taken.” And yet, somewhere deep inside she kind of hoped that he wasn’t. That maybe he could see her for more than just his friend’s student.

DeeDee looked back at Erik’s email, quickly wrote her reply and closed the laptop. She popped the cork on the new bottle and started drinking directly from it. With wine in hand, she got up and started swaying to the soothing sounds of Alex Isley and Masego’s ‘Good and Plenty.’

---

It had only been 15 minutes, but to Erik it felt like forever and he worried that maybe she did have other plans. He ran upstairs to change into some work out clothes and came down when his email chimed. He ran over to read it immediately.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mister Erik,

I am sitting on my couch, enjoying pizza and wine. Although, my bottle is gone.

Other than that, I have no plans for the night.

I let my best friends drag me out last night, so indoors it is for me.

What about you? Any plans for the evening, like with someone special?

It’s pretty early over there; like 7 in Cali, right?

Anyways, I should probably let you enjoy the evening. Don’t be a stranger.

Miss DeeDee

“Wait! What?” Erik rapidly typed his response and sent it to her. He dropped down onto his couch. “I really lost my touch and can’t even talk to a woman anymore.”

He only asked because he didn’t want to assume she was gonna be available to chat via email all night. Erik knew he would do it, too. He was fascinated with her. He wanted to hear whatever she was willing to share with him. And yes, that meant even if he eventually had to answer the question.

Erik went to the kitchen and got two bottles of water. From the living room, grabbed the tablet and headed to his downstairs gym. If DeeDee stopped responding at least he could work off whatever feelings arose. He set everything down besides the punching bag.

---

DeeDee had danced and drank all around her living room. But once she started to spin, the dance party came to an abrupt halt. The wine finally caught up with her and she plopped down on the couch. She slowly leaned over to set the quarter full bottle down on the table and opened the laptop.

She had a new email. She squinted at the screen. From Erik.

Her chest started pounding, so she took a few deep breaths and opened it.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Miss DeeDee,

It is a rare night in for me. I usually work on Saturdays, but I have had the whole day to myself.

I played ball with some kids from the neighborhood this morning. And I cooked earlier this afternoon and was planning to watch a movie before turning in.

However, I have been having a wonderful conversation and don’t really want it to end.

Would you care to join me on a video call?

Erik

“WHAT?” DeeDee threw her laptop down on the couch. She stood up and paced the floor, slowly. “He’s gotta be kidding. Right?” She looked at the message on the screen again.

She sat back down and sent the first thing that came to mind. Was this actually happening? What is going on? Her thoughts were circling around in her head and all through a wine-induced fog. Just her luck.

“He --” DeeDee giggled, “Oh my god.” She dropped her face into her hands.

---

Cool, calm and collected, he was not. Erik’s stomach was in knots while he waited for DeeDee’s response, if any. He hit the punching bag a few times in jest before the nervous energy kept him going. He stayed there for 15 minutes before moving to the free weights in the corner.

As Erik laid back on the bench to start lifting the barbell, he heard the email alert. He slowly sat up. His heart couldn’t race any faster since he had been working out anyway. But it felt like it was gonna just fly out of his chest. He wrung his hands while he sat on the bench.

He stood up and made his way over to the punching bag where everything was. Erik grabbed a nearby towel and wiped himself off before he picked up the tablet.

“Now or never.” He unlocked it and opened DeeDee’s email.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Uh Mister Erik,

I am enjoying our conversation as well. But I am not camera ready. And I am definitely not changing to get ready either.

Let’s do it some other time.

DeeDee

Erik released the biggest breath. He didn’t realize that he was holding it as he read her answer. Then he started to chuckle. And that small chuckle grew into a big full body laugh. It even echoed off the walls, but he could not help it. He was relieved by what he read, and knew exactly how to respond to it.

He grabbed all his stuff and left the gym. He went upstairs to his bedroom. Erik sent the email and dropped his tablet on the bed.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Now DeeDee,

Did I say anything about being all dressed up for this call? Doesn’t matter if you are in a hoodie and some sweats.

I just wanted to have the face-to-face interactions while we chat because I can imagine you pouting about a silly question. And I am sure you want to see my reactions to you calling me Mister after I told you not to.

No pressure, though. You have my email, so use it to connect to me if you want. I’ll be around, you know, since it’s early over here.

Erik

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @arafatih @issimplyaamazinggg @tchallasbabymama

#25 days of christmas challenge #erik killmonger x oc #black panther fanfiction #bp christmas #all i want #thadelightfulone

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lethesomething · 4 years

Text

Ghost of Tsushima and the Hands of Fate

I see we're still trying to prove that games are an art form by making everyone feel bad.

For the record, Ghost of Tsushima is one of my favourite games in a very long time. It is extremely pretty, the aesthetic and general … polish is *cheff's kiss*. You can pet foxes and backstab people. The fighting mechanic is decent and there are just So Many Hats.

But also, it has the kind of story that pulls you in to the point where you have to drop the controller to hide behind your fingers going 'ohgodno'.

It is an absolute bastard of a game, is what i'm saying.

So let's talk about that, and specifically about Straw Hat Ryuzo and how I feel bad for him.

I am, by the way, going to be talking about the narrative structure of a video game about medieval samurai, so expect like, a bunch of spoilers.

The narrative is one of the big draws in Ghost of Tsushima. Like yes, it's an open world rpg with fighting and flower picking and all the important stuff, and also yes, some of the bits are sloppily written (looking at you, specifically, 'Ending to Norio's Arc'), but the game definitely sets out to Tell a Story.

And because this is a Serious Game that openly bases itself on samurai movies like Kurosawa's, it is a Drama.

In many ways it is an utterly brutal Bildungsroman, a narrative in which a young man finds his identity.

I have joked with friends about the clear intent for this game to make Important Stories, in that it actually tries to tick all the boxes of hotbutton subjects: childhood trauma? Obviously. Gay relationships? Yup. Survivor's guilt and PTSD? Oh yes. Domestic abuse? Several. Suggested pedophilia? Damn, even that.

The foxes are there to soothe the soul

It's interesting to note that from a writing point of view, this bildungsroman is even Very Classically Structured. It goes so far as to be a three acter, with a pretty standard build-up.

Jin Sakai, traumatized man that he is, spends the first act slowly getting to grips with the bit where you don't fight an army by yourself by just walking up to them and challenging them With Honour, like he has been taught his entire life. Instead of getting stabbed repeatedly in the chest and set on fire, he discovers guerilla warfare and creates this persona of the Ghost, a literal vengeful spirit seeking justice for the island of Tsushima.

It gets him some big wins and in the second act he slowly embraces this identity until things get to a head where he clashes with his entire old life. The third act starts at the hero's lowest point and is utterly gut wrenching (i am Still Not Over the horse, game), forcing him to pull himself together for an ending that is, well…fitting for the narrative. It's an ending that is needed, but perhaps not what Jin deserves.

But anyway, this is about Ryuzo, and how until that ending, I was very upset about his role.

You see, this story is told in part through the lives of Important Npc's, who contribute to Jin's journey of self-discovery. This is pretty obvious with someone like Yuna, who is the one to introduce him to the Stealth Life and who is a driving force behind the marketing of the Ghost.

Someone like Masako, meanwhile, portrays vengeance and self discipline, but Jin also kinda tries to make her fill the mother-shaped hole in his heart.

Lord Shimura, meanwhile, is an Obvious Father figure but also stands for Jin's past. He's rigid and ineffective, which pushes Jin to further look for alternatives.

Ishikawa, that other mentor figure, is more moderate and flexible, but he also represents a possible unwanted future. He literally warns Jin at one point not to become like him.

Norio, then, is as mentioned not the best written, but he too is a person that searches for his destiny and tries to become like his hero, while only barely holding on to his sanity.

Kenji, I'm sorry, I love you but you're just comic relief, that's all you do. It's an imporant job in the story, because god does it need it, but you're not teaching Jin anything other than how to make different 'resigned sigh' noises.

So what about Ryuzo? From the very beginning, Ryuzo's story didn't really sit right with me. There's the obvious class issue: he's one of the few important npc's that are poor, and he's an Antagonist.

It has always rubbed me the wrong way that his original intentions were good, depending on how you read it. He's trying to feed his men. He essentially made the decision that this one man's life (even if it is an old friend) is worth the price for the lives of his band of ronin.

It's a lot more complex than that, of course. Ryuzo partly blames Jin for his predicament in life, and he also knows that samurai treat their soldiers as chattel, which the game goes out of its way to show you they DO.

Essentially, he's a complicated character who makes bad decisions for arguably good reasons.

Ryuzo did everything he could to save the lives of the people he cared about. He went so far as to abandon his honor and his childhood friends, to try to make this happen.

Does that ring any bells?

It kinda clicked for me at the very end of the game.

Jin, being the protag in an assassin game, does a lot of killing. But some of these deaths are given more meaning than others. Some of them are there to make you feel like shit (the Horse Again, but you lose several friends along the way), others serve a more defining purpose.

You see, there's a fair amount of what i'd like to call 'intimate violence' in Ghost of Tsushima. It's an old trope. The 'if someone was gonna kill me, it had to be you' kinda scene that hails from a worldview in which some deaths are better than others, sure, but some deaths are better even than living. It's a worldview in which life itself is less valuable than your legacy. You die for your place in history. For your clan, for your family, for your honor.

Bushido is full of that sort of thing, so it makes sense that a game building on that worldview, would use the heck out of that trope.

The first is Ryuzo's death. You fight him in a duel, in which he tries to plead for some resolution. You could let him go, come up with some story. But Ryuzo is a traitor, so Jin ultimately defeats him and sends him off in what would be a touching moment of bro friendship if it wasn't for the blood and my 21st century sensibilities.

You grant him a warrior's death, is what I'm saying.

It happens again with Shimura. The game actually gives you a choice here, but if you go through with it, the scene almost perfectly mirrors Ryuzo's.

You fight in a duel, and Jin tries to get his uncle to just let him go, come to some kind of resolution. But Jin has been branded a traitor, and the only way for Shimura to restore his honour and clan, is to take his life;

This being a game in which you have the power of bamboo strikes and also save games behind you, Jin ultimately wins the duel, and has the option of granting Shimura a warrior's death.

It is utterly heart wrenching and that whole scene has no business being as pretty as it is. The swelling music? The fucking strings? The anguished yell?

Fuck.

But anyway.

That's about where it clicked with me, that Jin never had a choice.

Ryuzo's whole role wasn't fair, but this is one of those stories where life itself is just not fair at all.

Both him and Shimura are there to show us Jin's path.

What if, the game says, Jin had listened? What if he'd taken one of several offers the Khan made and surrendered?

What if he'd cooperated?

Well, we see in Graphic Detail what would happen. He would get pushed into doing horrific things. He gets manipulated, again and again, until there is no way out anymore. At some point it becomes clear to him that he's on the wrong side but whenever he tries to devise some plan to turn things around, things go Badly. He's firmly stuck in Khotun's web and the only way out is death.

But what if, the game says, Jin had stayed true to his honour? What if he had listened to his uncle, not defied him, if he had dropped the Ghost before it was too late? If he'd gone full bushido and repented for the shogun and done all the groveling and the proper stuff.

Samuraihood is just another straightjacket, says Shimura's fate. The tenets are so rigorous you would take your loved ones life, while fucking bawling your eyes out. Shimura knows damn well it's unfair but he also has no way to leave this path. It's a ride he cannot, and will not, get off alive.

Jin never had a choice.

There was only ever one way for him to go.

Like let's be real: pretty much everyone in this story was dealt a bad hand. It's a narrative about resilience in the face of utter horror, of reinventing yourself and giving up entire structures of faith. People like Masako, Yuna, Norio are finding peace in dealing with huge levels of trauma and regret.

The goal isn't to start a family and live happily ever after, it's to Survive.

Submitting to the mongols would have killed Jin's spirit. Standing tall and rigid as he was taught to do would have, ultimately, killed him as well.

"I've given up everything to save these people", he says near the end. "And I would do it again."

That's someone who has no regrets.

Jin never could have taken another path and he knows it.

And this is why Ryuzo needed a fate as shitty as his. He fell, so Jin could walk.

I'm sorry, it's still not fair.

This game needs some comfort fic.

#ghost of tsushima #jin sakai #ryuzo #narrative analysis #story analysis #i have Many Feeling ok #and this is how i deal with them #ghost of tsushima spoilers #gots spoilers

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meloncubedradpops · 4 years

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Repo! The Corona Opera

For every rotation that Earth has completed around the sun since the dawn of humanity, humans have created art to cope with the realities surrounding our everyday life. We weave stories in songs, movies, plays, books, paintings, and so forth, that help digest the world around us and provide an entertaining escape from the cruelties we endure. Some stories take place in abstract universes or in the future, and we rely on what we know in our present reality to build upon these fantasy societies. My favorite movie, Repo! the Genetic Opera, certainly makes this list. We are currently experiencing perhaps the most surreal year of our collective lives, and with each passing day I argue that we find ourselves closer to the world crafted in Repo. I have seen this movie, at least 20 times. If you haven't watched Repo! the Genetic Opera or you haven't seen it in a while, I recommend giving it a view. The movie is unique in that it falls under three distinct genres: musical, horror, and sci-fi. And while the jury is out on whether our future society is going to go full on gothic aesthetic, I can say that the Repo! movie experience offers a glimpse into a dystopian fascist post-plague world wrapped in unapologetically hilarity with a heaping side of camp. It doesn't offer any spiritual cleansing that our souls collectively need, but it does show us what a new normal could look like if we really go off the rails.

As things stand, right now, so much of our daily lives and culture are impacted by the coronavirus. All of our institutions have been impacted, from school, to work, to family, to the way we interact with strangers, and especially our economy. We have all felt the effects in one way or another, and honestly? Most the impacts are of our own undoing, for better or for worse. I am going to write three pieces analyzing Repo! the Genetic Opera. First I will create the foundations that bridge our contemporary life and the world of Repo! Second I will explain how the Repo! universe operates under the definitions of fascism. And third I will weave together parts one and two into our contemporary world (particularly in the context of the United States) to highlight the dark path we heading towards. My viewpoints are of mine, and my own alone. Let's dive into part one.

Part I Repo! the Genetic Opera takes place in the year 2056. Humanity was on the brink of collapse as a result of a medical crisis that caused massive organ failure.

I never gave the premise much thought, at least not until recently. We aren't given much detail beyond the fact that entrepreneur Rottissimo "Rotti" Largo solved this crisis through his company GeneCo. GeneCo provides organ transplants that can be repaid through a payment plan. Witnessing the coronavirus unfold in real time and seeing its wrath, particularly on severe cases, honestly makes me wonder if the writers had some sort of "super plague" in mind when creating this universe. For the purpose of this analysis, I will assume that humanity suffered at least one infectious disease crisis. And just to reiterate covid-19 particularly, we really *don't* know what it's going to do to us long-term. Let the parallels begin.

The world in Repo! the Genetic Opera, operates as normally as the citizens possibly can, which appears to be quite limited. I have noted how dated some the technologies look.

For a world 30 years in the future, it lacks cell phones and easy access to internet. When we enter Shilo's world (aka her bedroom!) she watched Blind Mag sing on a busted up tiny ass TV and the program itself looks like an ad on Home Shopping Network.

The Graverobber is shown reading headlines on a newspaper. The news reporters shown in the ribbon cutting ceremony during the 1st Italian Post-Plague Renaissance have old school cameras with flashbulbs.

The most contemporary technology appears to be a Wish.com version of an Apple watch, and even that looks like a leftover prop from Spy Kids.

Obviously the people who made this movie intentionally inserted these anachronisms, but why? This is a science fiction movie after all. I speculate that they reverted back because the impact from humanity's crisis resulted in an overall professional "brain drain" from the sheer volume of professionals that dropped dead. In fact every scene depicting medical procedures looks dimly lit and lacking in sanitation. We will see this as we struggle to contain the coronavirus, at least in America. Healthcare workers have already died from this thing, and I am sure many prospective college students will have second thoughts about a career in healthcare. I mean hell, look at no other than GeneCo itself. That company employs workers called "Genterns" who are most definitely not in full PPE. I don't doubt their medical expertise, but they appear to be disposable (please see: that time Luigi killed one for NO REASON in "Mark it Up").

On that note, it really was quite incredible how China built the pop-up hospital in Wuhan in under 4 days, but it was also not the most safe or structurally sound building by far (it collapsed, people were hurt!). Maybe at this point, the people in Repo! don't have much of a choice. I am sure there were likely legit hospitals, but the fact that the Renaissance had gross surgery tents is a bit unsettling.

This is a world that is completely built upon the social more of valuing your health above all else. There had to be a turning point in the GeneCo business model where they really played on up-selling organs for the benefit of "genetic perfection". "I needed a kidney transplant desperately. GeneCo showed this single mom sympathy. This makeover came for a small added fee. Now I look smashing on live TV!" Imagine signing the documents for your power of attorney while actively going into renal failure, when your doctor chimes in with an up-sell for breast implants. When all is said an done, your body is now not only functioning again, but you're hot! Even in a post-plague dystopia we are still holding value to having a nice rack. What's not to love about GeneCo? Obviously we know right away that GeneCo has a dirty side. Rotti Largo personally lobbied to make organ repossessions legal, and he does not hesitate to recollect his property. The concept itself is, of course, wild. In America, our healthcare system is incredibly broken and expensive. You would wonder how it could get worse without us backpedaling many steps on the industrialization timeline. And in a lot of ways, I could see a company like GeneCo thrive here. We already hate the poor, and we have political think tanks that salivate over the idea of cutting social programs that keep people alive. Our president has wanted to repeal the Affordable Care Act while many people are unemployed during a pandemic. In Repo! we hear about those who don't pay, but obviously there are plenty of people who do. Those who can will happily pay, either for vanity reasons or to stay alive.

And while society cites Rotti as being a "hero" for humanity, we see more and more evidence that the crisis is both not under control and life is cheap.

His son murders multiple people, in front of others, with seemingly no repercussions. In the scene where Shilo meets the Graverobber for the first time, adjacent to the graveyard and tombs owned by wealthy families who could afford grave markers, lies a poorly constructed wall hiding thousands of corpses piled on top of one another. We even get a glimpse of a truckload pouring more onto the pile. I would not be surprised if there is a disinformation campaign there keeping the public in the dark (although you'd think the smell would be unbearable at this point).

There are multiple indications that propaganda works in society (still), and no one is getting the full picture of how much of a raw deal the people in Repo! have. We see poster after poster about GeneCo, in the literal absence of other corporations.

And a lot of them bear resemblance to 20th century Russian propaganda. It would be a real shame if the goals outlined The Foundations of Geopolitics: The Geopolitical Future of Russia were actually realized. Imagine going to visit your mother's grave and hearing commercials for hardcore analgesics play through the cemetery. Also, there's a police presence too. Apparently the police are called Genecops and have authority to execute any assumed graverobbers on site.

Imagine the hellscape it would be to live in a world where your loved ones may have died from a terrible pandemic, and you face a non-zero chance of an over zealous cop murdering you thereafter, and because their qualified immunity bypasses the judicial system entirely...oh wait. Anyways let's circle back to the Graverobber character.

Graverobber's role in Repo! appears to be minor on the surface. Rotti's daughter, Amber Sweet, appears to almost despise her relationship with him. And that relationship involves him supplying Amber with what he describes as the "21st Century cure". This cure you ask? A super effective painkiller with the clinical use to accompany GeneCo surgeries. This drug is called Zydrate, and it has a street version that he acquires and sells, with clients including Amber Sweet.

Graverobber makes his living sucking the glowy blue brain corpse goo and injecting them into people on the streets. Yum!

Not everyone who needs an organ transplant can pay for it all upfront. Luckily for them, GeneCo provides payment plan options! The caveat to this is if you fail to make those payments, legally GeneCo can come and repossess your newly acquired organs. If you find yourself past due, you will soon see the last face before your doom, the Repo Man. He will harvest GeneCo's property, and it won't matter where you are or what you are doing. There is no anesthetic, and you will likely die! This was all made legal through Rotti's lobbying efforts.

Society, as it's set up today, allows for property repossessions. This can be as straightforward as a repossession of your vehicle to as heartbreaking as a foreclosure on your home. At the end of the day, the impacts of that are difficult and life changing. Currently millions of people in America are out of work, and the threat of losing everything is at stake for many. We could lose our homes, our vehicles, and our sense of purpose. And while many government bodies have created temporary moratoriums, they have not provided any substantial financial relief to keep the proverbial repo man at bay. What went wrong in this dystopia to normalize the concept of death due to nonpayment? Fascism! Ah yes, the dreaded f-word. In my next essay, I will outline the 14 characteristics of fascism and how it relates to the universe in Repo! After I will relate that to our modern world so that we can try and stop this from becoming our reality.

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1062

survey by chrissylee22dc

Achievements: I guess I’m being asked to list some of mine...some of the ones I’m proudest of, at least, are graduating university with honors, landing a job (liking it is a big bonus), and taking up leadership positions.

Age: I am 22, but never felt quite like it.

Are you planning something right now? Kind of. I’m eyeing a long road trip to Tanay with just myself and go to one of their coffee shops, but idk when I’ll be able to do that. My wallet and bank account are still beat from Christmas lol (and until now I’m still buying gifts for friends), so it might have to wait until sometime next month.

Arizona or Alaska: I think Arizona weather is already quite like ours here, so I might enjoy Alaska a bit (if not a lot) more. There’s generally a lot more factors I find interesting with Alaska, like their food.

Birthdate: April 21st.

Build: I’m quite thin and underweight, but I actually recently made plans to start working out - both to make an effort to be healthy with myself, and also to feel good post-breakup. I’m hoping to see some changes in my body and build in the coming months.

Babies, do you have any? None of those, not sure if that’s still the plan for me.

Blonde or Brunette: Brunette.

Childhood sweetheart: Erm, does Gab count? We technically weren’t kids anymore when we first got together. I wasn’t attracted to anyone as a kid and was more concerned with growing my Pokemon pogs collection.

Current mood: I’m hungry and can go for savory breakfast foods right now, like shakshuka or huevos rancheros. Also a little anxious because I really don’t want to think about work, but tasks continue to pile up for a certain client.

Children, are there more in your future? There aren’t even any to begin with.

Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi just because it reminds me of Punk and my chaotic wrestling fangirl years.

Dad's name: Edgardo, but no one calls him by that full name. He has two nicknames; one of which he hates and only family and friends use, and the other is the name he has permanently introduced himself as in his workplace.

Dating anyone: Not anymore.

Do you plan on having lots of money? Don’t most people?

Dogs or cats: Dogs.

Elementary School: I’m not sharing that.

Eye color: Dark brown/black.

Ever going to China? Probably not right now considering the present situation. I’d love to go to the rural cities and have a peek into their country life.

Early or Late: EARLY. Lateness is a big pet peeve, unless the excuse is super reasonable like Manila traffic or a car accident.

First Crush: The first person I felt remotely attractive to was Andi, from 6th grade. Then she moved to New Zealand and the crush quickly faded out.

Fears: For concrete things, I hate cockroaches and fair rides. For bigger concepts, I fear getting left behind, failing, and not getting approval, and the idea of never being satisfied or happy with who I am, what I’ve done, or where I’ve gone.

Future goals: Have a place of my own, be able to sustain myself, and keep myself alive.

Funny or Serious: I think everyone has to have both sides. I wouldn’t want to hang out long with people who can’t be sat down to just shoot the shit with conversations that go a little deeper. At the same time, I’d be quickly bored with someone who talks about existential or philosophical topics 24/7 and takes everything seriously.

Grandparent's names: On my dad’s side, Dolores and Federico; on my mom’s side, Agnes and Jun. My maternal grandpa is the third in multiple generations of Abelardos in the family, but his nickname is simply ‘Jun,’ because Philippines.

GPA: We don’t measure our grades with that, but we do have a GWA; I’m just not sure how that can be converted to GPA. Mine was in the 1.47 range, which was good enough for cum laude honors. I barely missed out on a magna cum laude honor (which required a 1.45 GWA), so that’s something I’ve always been pressed about and I know I could have clinched it if the pandemic didn’t cancel my final semester, which would’ve given me the chance to pull up my grades.

Going anywhere this weekend? I don’t think so. I want to spend the remaining 5 days of my break completely unproductively.

Giver or Taker: Giver. I like pleasing people.

High School: I attended one school from kindergarten to high school.

Hair color: Black.

Hate anyone for life? I don’t think so. I dislike some people, but I can’t tell if I’ll feel that way for the rest of my life.

Hairspray or Gel: When I’m going somewhere or attending something fancy, I use hair gel to hold my hair down.

In 8th grade, who was your best friend? Eighth grade is freshman year of high school, right? In that case, my best friend was Gabie.

Is ignorance bliss? Sometimes it is. I like no longer being updated about Gabie’s life. Back when I still tried to push my way in, I was miserable. I stopped doing so over the holidays and I just stopped reaching out, stopped trying to communicate, everything. I’ve been a lot happier that way.

Is there anything you wanna share? That’s kinda the goal with every survey I take.

Ice Cream or Cake: Right now, maybe ice cream. I’m very picky about cake, and I don’t like the spongy ones aka most cakes I know.

Jumped rope for fun: That’s exactly what I use jump ropes for. I don’t think I ever used it for fitness or working out except for maybe PE.

Junk around you right now? I mean, not really. I have my embroidery stuff in a pile beside me, but I don’t consider them junk.

Joining anything anytime soon? Not planning on it. I briefly considered joining a gym as a new thing to do for 2021, but in the end I figured working out at home would be enough. Angela recommended the latter as well, so that’s how I abandoned my gym plans quickly haha.

January or July: I guess July? January always feels just a teeny bit stranger than other months, considering it’s the beginning of a new year.

Killed anyone: ...This serious?

Keeping a secret? I keep different secrets from different people.

Kicking someone off your top friends today? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.

Kiwi or Apple: Apple, just because I’ve never had the chance to taste kiwi.

Lost anyone close to you: I’ve lived 22 years, of course I have. I’d be very surprised if someone has lived that long but has never experienced losing people, whether from a fallout, from death, etc. Just this year alone I lost a great-aunt on my maternal grandpa’s side, and a ton of relatives from my maternal grandma’s side.

Last kiss, when and who: Gabie, three months ago.

List 3 people that you'll love forever: I can only think of Angela. And of course, Gab.

Lover or Fighter: Fighter, I suppose. I can be relentless. Right now with my breakup has been the only time I allowed myself to take a step back and not forcibly take things under my control for once.

Middle School: We don’t follow the concept of middle school here. The levels in middle school fall under elementary school as well.

Marital Status: Single.

Mom's name: Abigail.

Music or TV: TV.

Northernmost state you've been to: Batanes, which is as northernmost as northernmost gets in the Philippines.

Nickname: A lot of family members call me Byn, but for the most part Robyn has always been my main nickname.

Name your future boy and girl: I have yet to make up my mind about this.

Naughty or Nice: Nice. I never particularly feel ~naughty, and since the breakup I especially haven’t felt the need to be sexual.

Opened a piece of mail that wasn't yours? Sometimes I’ll open the electricity or water bill addressed to my parents out of curiosity just to find out how much we consumed in the last month. But nothing more than that.

Occupation: I’m an associate at a PR agency.

Owe anyone money: Nope.

Outgoing or Shy: Shy at first but I can get outgoing once I’ve warmed up to a person/situation.

Place you most want to be? Right now? I’d love to be at a coffee shop or bar at a higher altitude, with a view of the city. I used to go to a lot of these before the pandemic hit, but now I’m thinking of doing it again.

Purposely destroyed someone’s life? No.

Planning a major trip? Not really. Most tourist spots require swab tests and I am not having anything go up my nose.

Pink or Black? Love both, but I like pink ever so slightly more.

Quit a class: I’ve never dropped a class. I’ve wanted to, but there was so much paperwork to fill out to do so and I also didn’t want to be behind on my overall schedule.

Quickly...the first word to come to mind: Whistle, because the pink/black question reminded me of Blackpink.

Quitting your job soon? No lol I’m barely two months in.

Quiet or Loud: I can be both, but these days I’ve been quieter.

Riding in an airplane: I have no idea what this is asking.

Ride, tell me about yours: ^ Same.

Running for any political office in the future? No plans to.

Rain or Snow: I guess rain, since it’s the only one I’ve experienced.

Siblings names and ages: Nina is 20, my brother is 17.

Shoe size: I fit anywhere between a size 6 to 7.

Shave daily? It used to be daily, but I haven’t had the need to since the quarantine began.

Shower or Bath: Shower.

Turning 21 was (will be): It’s been a year since then.

Texas, ever been? No but I have relatives who live there, so it’s one of my choice states to visit and stay at if I ever plan to go to the US.

Think you'll live to be 100? I doubt it. I don’t have any relatives who lived until that age.

Tame or Wild: Idk, tame I guess?? I don’t know what this is asking.

Unique quality about you: I feel like this is a question best answered by other people who see and interact with me more than I do myself.

Underwear on? Yeah.

Under your bed lies: Large containers with all the magazines I collected from childhood that I can’t bring myself to throw out.

Under or Over: Idk, you have to be more specific.

Virgin? No.

Vacation time left? I have five days left, including today :( I plan to be the most unproductive or bum-y I’ve ever been, because I have no clue when I’ll have a break this long again.

Voting in the next Presidential election? Of course.

Volleyball or Swimming: I like swimming more, but I like watching volleyball.

Went white water rafting? I don’t think so, but I would give it a shot.

Wearing right now: A hoodie that’s around two sizes bigger for me.

Write a sentence about you: About anything? I’m a little upset with myself for having been a bit lousy with survey-taking during the holiday break. I planned on taking a lot to catch up on the ones I’ve missed out on, but so far I mostly take just one a day lol.

West Coast or East Coast: East.

X-Rays in the past month: 0.

X-Mas plans: Had a get-together with my mom’s side of the family on the 24th; we hosted our own Christmas party on the 25th; and we visited my dad’s side of the family on the 26th.

X, does it mark the spot? Idk.

X-Tina or Britney? Britney.

You lost "it" when? I mean, I’ve had more than one moment where I freaked out...

Your favorite song: I’m really in love with Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House. My favorite songs come and go, but this one has been a constant.

Your favorite place on Earth: Sagada.

Yes or No: Idk. I’m not enjoying these vague ass questions.

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Zodiac Sign: Idk, I’m still a Taurus.

Zippos are neat, agree? I don’t have an opinion.

Zoo or Circus: Neither.

#survey #surveys

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miracul0us-multishipper · 5 years

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Welcome to the back (Part 15)

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

- - -

Adrien had never felt this afraid. He‘d been in this building countless times before, as both Adrien and Chat Noir, but he’d either been guided or had simply followed his Lady’s lead. Now he wished he’d paid more attention to the the layout of the building.

He had reached the main studio a minute after the ads had started - this place was a maze! - just to find all his friends gone already. A confirmation of his worst fears. They were up to something!

He had to find Lila! She could get them out of this mess, she knew how to talk her way to safety. If she were to be exposed... Earlier that week, it had only been their class’s harmony that had been at stake.

Now, she would take Adrien down with her. What had he been thinking? Why had he helped her, why had he lied for her? He’d only made everything worse! Damnit, Marinette had been right. This was his own fault- Marinette!

His thoughts returned to their encounter earlier, and he ran even faster, searching for the others. He needed to find her. How she had gotten her hands on his Miraculous, he didn’t know, but the fact it was inactive and on a string meant that she wasn’t using it - yet. Maybe she was simply waiting for the right time to steal his place. He growled and ripped another door open, revealing the room behind it to be empty.

Marinette wasn’t fit to be Chat Noir. She didn’t have what it took to be Ladybug’s partner, and she hadn’t deserved his miraculous like he did! He would convince her to give it back. Marinette wasn’t unreasonable, she’d understand. And she had liked him, Lila had told him once. Maybe if he promised to be a better friend now, maybe even go out together, she’d realize this was his destiny.

His thoughts began to spiral down a slippery slope. He needed Plagg, needed his miraculous. He’d do everything that was necessary, for Paris’ sake, for Ladybug’s sake!

But no need to do something rash, he’d try it the nice way!

Adrien knew this would work.

Adrien knew that it had to.

Adrien-

“...really is a bitch.”, a familiar, although muffled voice declared from somewhere in front of him. Felix! With his last bit of strength, Adrien pushed the doors to Jagged Stone’s studio open. His eyes widened when he saw what had happened.

He was... too late.

Lila stood in the middle of the room, together with Felix and a man he didn’t recognize, even though he looked vaguely familiar. She was frozen in fear, and she had every right to. There were cameras pointed at her from every side, and her classmates stood at the walls like angry bulls. Jagged Stone was patting a smugly grinning Marinette on the shoulder, and Nadja Chamack held a microphone out to the unknown man.

“This is Nadja Chamack, life from the TV tower, 21st arrondissement!”, she almost screamed into her microphone in excitement. “We just witnessed Chief Editor René Bordeaux admitting to have actively and willingly spread false accusations about an aspiring designer, specifically to harm her career. Will you give us a statement about your conspiring with a minor in order to blackmail your son, famous model Felix Leanne?”

The man - René Bordeaux, he remembered him from the fashion show, now! - backed away, arms raising to simultaneously hide his face and gesture through the air

“Y-You’re not allowed to publish that!”, he yelled at her, panic and wrath merging his voice into a shrill shout. “I have not consented to any interviews! As your superior, I order you to stop!”

“Actually, since you are a public figure and I am a journalist investigating your case of corruption, everything that has just been published is perfectly legal.”, Nadja informed him with a wink. “And it doesn’t look like your position as my superior will last much longer.”

”Also, since Lila has signed a declaration of consent just this morning,” Alya chimed in, holding up a document, “she’s fair game as well! Maybe you should’ve read the damn thing, Liar.”

Lila was only now recovering from the shock.

“Y-You guys did so great!”, she tried to fake a smile. “We finally busted that evil producer! I knew you were there, of course, I was just acting to make him spill his deeds-“

“Oh, shut up.”, Felix rolled his eyes at her and walked over to Marinette. “It’s game over for you, so save your excuses!”

Tears welled up in Lila’s eyes, and this time Adrien actually believed they were real.

“I-It wasn’t my idea! He forced me to, René Bordeaux forced me to help him!”

“I deny any involvement in this affair! I want to speak to my lawyers!”

“Come on, guys, you know me! I-I did so much for you, didn’t I?”, Lila whined on. That’s when she spotted him in the door.

“Adrien!”, she all but sobbed. “Tell them! Tell them I’m innocent; I’m the g-good guy!”

He backed away, wishing she hadn’t brought him up. Now the others had noticed him too.

“Is it true what she said?”, Nino said, brows furrowed in frustration. “You knew everything? And you just... did nothing?!”

“What the hell, Adrien?!”, Chloé spat, towering over him like a hawk. “I thought I was the jerk between the two of us!”

He fell to his knees, exhaustion catching up with him. His legs were wobbly of shock.

“No! No, I... I only wanted... I was just trying to protect you!”

“Protect us?”, Alya snarled. “By leaving us at Lila’s mercy, completely unprepared?! I uploaded a shit ton of fake news on my blog thanks to her! If it hadn’t been for Marinette, this could’ve ruined my entire career!”

“I thought we were friends, dude!”, Nino agreed, looking as betrayed as Adrien felt. “But friends don’t lie to each other! And you sure don’t help others with lying to your bro!”

No, no! This couldn’t be happening, no! Not like this, not now, not him!

“Please...”, he whispered, his hand clutching around the lucky charm in his pocket. “I wasn’t... Lila just...”

He couldn’t think of any excuse that wouldn’t sound hollow now. His friends didn’t care as they turned back to Lila, ignoring his slumped figure on the floor as they continued their petty fight.

Adrien didn’t listen to them, too busy with his own despair. He had... failed. At everything.

At being a good friend in the first place. At being there for Ladybug. And now at stopping Marinette from exposing Lila. Everything he did went wrong, everything he put his mind to-

“Cathexis”, a deep voice called and a purple glow illuminated the darkness of his mind. “I am Hawkmoth.”

Adrien froze. The lucky charm beneath his fingers had grown cold, and he couldn’t lift a finger to throw it away. Its cool prickle travelled up his wrist, his arm, into every cell of his body.

“I will give you the power you need to achieve your goals.”, Hawkmoth whispered into his head. “To keep your loved ones close, and your enemies even closer.”

No. No, he was a hero. He couldn’t let himself be turned into another one of Hawkmoth’s monsters.

“You’ve been wronged, haven’t you?”, Hawkmoth continued sweetly. “Ah, you have tried so hard, yet they keep ignoring your advice.”

His fight with Marinette flashed through his mind.

“Rejecting you, even though you have done so much.”

Ladybug pushing him away, again and again and again.

“If they cannot listen...”

Lila had continued to lie, Marinette had kept on plotting against her, Felix just wouldn’t stop being rude...

“...they must feel.”

Adrien’s head lowered and his lips moved on their own, whispering a word he didn’t mean.

“Yes, Hawkmoth.”

His eyes closed as the purple smoke covered him entirely.

“I will reign them in.”

Cathexis smiled.

“And be the hero they deserve.”

“You did it.”, Felix beamed at Marinette and pulled her aside. “I don’t know how, but you did it.”

How had she gotten everyone involved? Their oh-so skeptical class, Nadja Chamack, even Jagged Stone! It seemed impossible, but she had succeeded. He was free, from his father’s lingering shadow and Rossi’s obsessive manipulations. Free, once and for all.

“Of course I did!”, she played it off, cheeks as pink as Rose’s shirt. “I promised you, didn’t I? Besides...”

Her eyes wandered to her classmates.

“It was more of a group effort.”

Felix followed her gaze to the others, who were gathered in the middle of the room. Alya eagerly assisted Madame Chamack in pestering Bordeaux with one cutting question after the other, Nino cheered her on. Chloé led the others in their rage against Lila, who had started to spout every lousy excuse in the book. Sabrina was calling her father at the Police to arrest Bordeaux, who would have a hard time getting out of this one. Juleka and Jagged Stone were comparing the hues of their hair dye, Rose being their obviously biased judge. They were chaotic and loud and ruthless and absolutely amazing.

“I guess I should thank them.”, he said, a smile creeping onto his face. “They’re not so bad, after all.”

Yes. Annoying maybe, but full of loyalty and love for their friends. For Marinette, and after some time, perhaps even for him.

“Still”, he insisted, not here for Marinette not giving herself enough credit. “You are the best. How do you want me to repay you? I could invite you for dinner!”

She shook her head, smiling ironically.

“I think we are past favors and debts, aren’t we?”

Favors and debts, like on their very first day. No, they really had moved on from there. He had moved on, from his obsession with owing nothing to anybody. When he thought back, he could only see fear. That Bordeaux had been right, and every nice thing done for him came at a cost. Now though...

“Then let’s not call it favor.”, he suggested softly. “Let’s call it... a date?”

Part of him was shocked to hear himself even propose that, but rest of him was tired of hesitating. He wanted every second of Marinette’s company he could get, to make up for the days of Lila-induced isolation.

He watched every movement in Marinette’s face, every minute twitch of her lips and eyebrows. At first, her eyes widened and her cheeks turned darker. (Was she blushing? She was blushing! That was a good thing, wasn’t it?)

Then her fingers bolted up to her face, as if to hide it, only to settle for brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I...”, she started, voice two octaves higher then usual. Until finally, her lips curved into a smile. “I’d like that. And I know just the place!”

A mischievous glimmer appeared in her eyes.

“You’ll see when we get there, it’s-“

A scream drowned her voice out and they jumped back. Felix felt his blood run cold. The door had been slammed shut, chained and locked. Where Adrien had kneeled when he’d last checked, a gloomy figure hovered over the floor. It was held up by heavy metal chains that crept over the ground like snakes, apparently not bound by any law of physics. Defying gravity, some of them simply floated next to their wielder, waiting for orders.

The wielder himself looked monstrous enough on his own. His skin was devoid of any color, lifeless and dull like bleached bones. Black stripes ran down his face, like tear stains from his wide, eerie green eyes. His hair shared the stripes’ unsettling color. On top of his head rested a spiked, golden crown that reminded him of a halo.

Knight-like armor adorned with an upside down paw-print protected his torso, and around his wrist was a beaded bracelet of some sorts. From a chain around his other hand dangled a heavy, spiked Morningstar.

The akuma - because what else could he be? - chuckled.

“Much better.”, he sighed. “Now, let’s see... who wronged me the most?”

Without any visible sign, his chains bolted towards Lila, who screamed when her waist was seized by the animated metal. Instinctively, Felix’ hand grabbed Marinette’s. Any fast movement might draw the Akuma’s attention to them, but he needed her to be ready to run as soon as there was a chance.

All eyes were fixed on Lila and her captor, who tapped his chin as the girl quivered before him.

“Oh, you look so scared.”, he gasped. “Poor Lila. It’s just me, good old Adrien! Or... Cathexis, to be exact. Why would you fear me?”

He hummed.

“Maybe... because you know that you used me? Or because you lied to me? Or because you stalked me?” His voice grew louder and louder, and his soothing smile turned into a malicious grimace.

“Or because you ruined my friendships? My school life? My everything?”

Cathexis laughed joylessly, eyes so wide they looked as if they might pop out of his skull.

“Please!”, Lila pleaded desperately. “It wasn’t my fault, I-I only wanted the same thing as you! I promise-“

“SHUT UP!”

Everyone in the room startled, frozen in fear. Marinette gripped his hand more tightly as the chain holding Lila started to glow in the same, cold light Cathexis’ bracelet radiated. It began at its root somewhere behind his shoulder, and slowly spread over the links towards its victim. Lila whimpered.

“See, I am tired of waiting for you to change.”, Cathexis lamented. “I gave you so many chances, but you just won’t listen! So I’ll have to make you a better person myself.”

He grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“Let’s call it one last emotional investment in you, okay?”

Lila trashed and trembled in her restrains as the glow came closer, tears in her terror-stricken eyes.

“Stop! I’m sorry, but whatever you’re doing, please stop it!”

Marinette twitched, but Felix held her in place. He wouldn’t let her endanger herself for Lila of all people! They could only watch as the light reached its prey. A white flash blinded them, then the chain dissolved and Lila dropped to the floor. She breathed, and her eyes were open, but her gaze was lifeless and empty.

Cathexis sigh broke the silence he’d shocked them into and he looked around.

“So...”, he said with an innocent smile. “Who’s next?”

Cathexis felt strong. He felt quick. He felt ready.

His chains dashed through the room the second he thought about giving the order, and as the people in the room broke out in panic, they seized them with ease. Nino, Alya, Chloé, all immobilized and chained to the ceiling with nothing more than a thought. The chain he had lost by fixing Lila was regrowing, and he directed it towards Marinette. His dear friend had started to guide the others to the back of the room and behind a curtain, cherishing the hope they might find safety there. Felix was next to her, but he could wait. For now, his ring was priority number one.

With a flick of his wrist he send the chain flying. It wrapped around Marinette’s wrist before she even noticed he was targeting her, and he had pulled her into the air in a heartbeat. Ignoring Felix’s scream, he retreated to the other side of the room.

Hawkmoth’s approval humming through his head, he sunk on eye-level with her, dodging the punch she’d aimed at his face. Another chain wrapped around her, fixing her arms at her side.

“Marinette!”, he rebuked her with a raised finger. “You should never react with violence, don’t you know that?”

“Let me go!”, his mannerless friend snarled. “What did you do with Lila?”

He knew the question sourced from fear for herself rather than concern for Lila, but he pretended otherwise for the moment. Soon, she’d care about Lila for real. And about him. And about any other person he chose to fix. They’d be a big happy family, with no problems or flaws under his watch. But first...

“You know what I’m looking for, Marinette.”

She froze and his eyes darted to the bump in the fabric above her collarbone.

“It’s fate that brought it back to me, so soon after I lost it.”, he whispered with a blissful smile. “You have it, don’t you? I saw it on you. My little secret, I want it back now.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Lost it... wait, your secret?”

Her jaw dropped as her mind caught up.

“You!”

“Yes, me.”, he admitted happily. “You understand, don’t you? I need it back. Once Hawkmoth is done with it, I’ll be Chat Noir again. It’s my destiny! Surely, you wouldn’t want to stand in the way of a hero.”

Marinette looked absolutely shocked. Devastated even - hopefully at the thought of hindering Chat Noir. But the way her face hardened told him otherwise.

“It’s no longer yours!”, she hissed. “And you’re a fool if you think Hawkmoth would just give it back to you, once he has it.”

He sighed.

“The hard way, then.”

The chains tightened around her as he concentrated, focusing his energy on her. She was his friend. He’d done so much for her; he deserved something in return. But before he could conjure the light into his chains, pain flared in his right cheek and he was thrown sideways.

“Argh!”

More startled than hurt, he rubbed his cheek and looked around. The moment of distraction had been enough to make his chains go slack, enough to let Marinette free herself. His eyes fixated on the culprit. Felix stood in the middle of the room, arm still raised from the punch he’d given.

“Ah.”, the stubborn annoyance of a boy sighed, despite his obvious fear. “That was cathartic.”

“You!”, Cathexis growled, summoning his chains. “I’ll make you regret ever coming to our school.”

Oh, he wouldn’t fix Felix, no, no, no. The rude bastard didn’t deserve this mercy, and Cathexis wouldn’t invest his emotional energy in a guy whose akuma had cost him Plagg! No, Felix would meet a far harsher fate. Cathexis raised his Morningstar and swung it through the air to gain momentum. With a battle cry, he hurled the spiked sphere at his enemy, who threw himself aside just in time to avoid getting turned into a pancake. Again and again Cathexis took aim, using his sentient chains to block Felix’ path. Finally, when he had nowhere left to run, the Akuma called his weapon back to attack one last time.

“I should’ve done this sooner!”, he cackled gleefully. “It would have saved me so much trouble, you living nuisance!”

He swung the Morningstar, blind and deaf to anything except his target. A mistake, as it turned out. He couldn’t hear the creaking of metal over his own laughter, couldn’t see the beams for the cameras at the ceiling move. Only when they crashed down on him he realized he should have payed more attention to Marinette.

“No, no!”

Trapped beneath the crashed metal structure he could only watch as Marinette - the crafty pain in the butt - climbed down from the bars of the supporting column, pulling Felix with her. The two of them vanished behind the curtains at the back, and when he send out his chains to rip the fabric apart, he understood why.

“A backdoor!”, Hawkmoth growled. Of course, that’s why no one had been inside anymore. “Idiot! Now the girl escaped with the ring, our ring!”

Groaning, Cathexis pushed the beams and bars off of himself and stood up.

“I’ll hunt them down!”, he swore and called his chains back to him. “They can’t run from me!”

“No.”, Hawkmoth stopped him. “No, wait. The Cat Miraculous is already close, but Ladybug is still missing. Call her here, then go after the ring.”

Cathexis nodded as the violet glow faded from his face. His Lady would be here shortly! Until then, he could bring Chloé, Alya and Nino under his contr- supervision. They were still struggling with their restraints, but not much longer.

“Lila!”, he barked for his new ally and the brunette stood up. “Get the camera working. I need to alert Ladybug.”

“Of course!”, she obliged with a smile. “Then I can apologize to her. We’ll be great friends, with your help!”

Cathexis grinned and bared his fangs as she got to work. Soon, he told himself. His chained friends looked at him in fear.

Soon.

#miramu writes #wttb #welcome to the back #felinette fanfic #felinette #ml felix #ml marinette #akuma!adrien #cathexis

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warpwalker · 3 years

Text

Vox-Logs: Entry One

Conversation with a Lamenter - Doing Your “Best”

12.21.2020

“The Lamenters are an unfortunate Loyalist Chapter of Space Marines which, perhaps more than any other Chapter of the present era, seems to have been cursed by a dark shadow that has long determined its fate.

The Lamenters' accursed and haunted legacy seems to have tainted much of what they have achieved and their victories often become bitter ashes in their hands.

[They] are a Successor Chapter of the Blood Angels created during the 21st "Cursed" Founding, and seem to have eliminated the gene-seed flaws known as the Black Rage and the Red Thirst through unknown means, but this secret cure may have been lost along with the Chapter.

[They] have had a tumultuous -- often fraught -- history. They have twice been brought to the very brink of destruction, first during the Badab War and later in battle with the overwhelming horror of the Tyranids.

Each time they have endured, despite inherent instabilities in their Chapter gene-seed, and their Chapter Master claims that with every travail they have overcome, the Lamenters have only grown stronger.”

-Introduction to the Lamenters, Warhammer 40k Wiki

I first saw Michael as a single figure, back when I first encountered a small company, most likely a lone warband, of Lamenters as I first began in exploring the practice. When I had first heard their story, I fittingly, well, lamented, as I imagine is the natural response to their cause and general aura. Michael, specifically, stood out among his brothers - whether because he bore the bleeding heart of his kin on his chest (where others held their gene-father’s bloody tear), his crying helmet, or simply the air he carried about him, I couldn’t say, only that I knew within he would somehow be back.

He was indeed, just recently as of writing this. It was an urgent and fleeting affair, and the thought of him pestered me for a time until I relented to tune in to exactly what was needed of me. Though I’ll spare his details for privacy, it was certainly dire, though unfortunately none could expect much better when being contacted by the “cursed” sons of the 21st. I’m no healer, much less an apothecary of his world, but I did what I could, returning him to what remnant of his brethren remained nearby to relinquish him to their care. I had done what I could, and he was grateful enough to grant me his name. Michael Aurelius - Michael, he was fine with. So Michael it was.

“For those we cherish, we die in Glory!”

-Warcry of the Lamenters Blood Angels Successor Chapter

I revisited Michael the next night, as best I could, to provide company. He had been heavily wounded in the situation I had found him in and subsequently pulled him from, so I only thought it apt to try to see him again as soon as possible. Though bedbound, he was relatively cheerful, something I often wish I could manage myself. Michael looks much like his gene-sire. Though cropped short and scruffy, his hair is flaxen blonde and practically glows. You can see the pain of his service in his face, but not in his scars (none amount to more than knicks that got a bit too deep, or a scratch that he no doubt bothered past its due) - no, it lies in his eyes, and I doubt little that the same couldn’t be said of his brothers. You can tell they might have been a sky-shade blue, once bright and beautiful, but now, they look at you in a sallow, anxious gray. It breaks my heart.

We began to speak. He firstly apologized - I quickly denounced it as not necessary, but he insisted, and when I heard him apologize again, I was speechless a moment when he did. He was apologizing for not doing well enough. As if somehow these injuries he now bore were a failure when, without disclosing detail, his predicament saw odds stacked impossibly against him. I felt rude doing it, but I just gawked at him. ‘You did your best,’ I had assured him, staying close to provide comfort. He only shook his head. He could have done better.

I looked him over again. This man, this Astartes, a Space Marine, was lying with bloody bandages and a crick in his side telling me that, in an overwhelming force of opposition he had no hopes of beating, he should have done better. He knows he’s destined to die, as all things are, but his belief is that his death will be swift and unnecessary, a sacrifice of war that perhaps, by even a sliver, what he values may be granted more time to save itself, to grow beyond, especially so at the hands of a Chapter forever branded with the notion of redeeming itself for crimes uncommitted. I can’t blame him - it’s what they’re taught. It’s all they know. But Michael is a Lamenter though and through, and I knew there was something he needed to hear that he would have never heard in his life otherwise - provided he had lived to hear it at all. “Your best was enough. It was your best.”

He looked at me, squinting for a moment, in a quiet stupor, and I continued on.

The Lamenters strike a chord with me because of their past, and the very notion Michael has his particular view towards - one’s “best”. From their involvement in the Badab War and subsequent guilt-bound control from the Astral Claws to the horrors they faced, alone, against the forefront of the Tyranid hivefleets, the Lamenters have seen themselves placed at a higher standard of “best” than even their fellow Astartes from the moment of their conception and creation from the origins of the Blood Angels Legion. A “best” that, in Michael at least, I can see has made their genuine, natural, true best a strange standard of normal. This wouldn’t be an issue if it didn’t mean they now strive for a new impossible goal, a literal “better than their best”, which in itself sounds rather ridiculous, does it not?

As I explained this to Michael, I reflected on my own experiences. I’ve always been a perfectionist, but it’s never been my doing. I’ve been through a lot, and that lot included a lot of ridicule and comparison from almost every source in my formative years. It’s left a lot of damage on me, shackles I don’t know when I’ll ever shake off, if at all. I’ve always been seen as, and eventually came to judge myself as, the “cursed” one of the group, the unfortunate and unlucky weak link, even where it may not have been true. The simple fact that I had been conditioned to see myself that way made it an automatic air about me, and still does. I am my own cursed chapter, forced to forever see myself distorted in the mirror, to try to force myself into a “better than my best”.

But what is our best really? It’s near-impossible to try to define “best” for any given person other than yourself, and that brings me to the forefront of this entire ramble. Not a single person shares the same definition for a personal best, nor do they even hold the same definition per day - at least, they shouldn’t. Yet through social norms, self-conceived personal notions, and ingrained biases, we see the best as an unbeatable perfect, and then some. This is extremely unhealthy, and not only should we let down our arms against ourselves, but others as well. Judgment breeds this mindset, and your standards are your own alone, nothing more. They should never hold power over anyone else, would they risk creating many more “unfortunates” who see no hope in dragging themselves out of the fray of their own self-perception.

Do not lament to some false-conceived image of you, that shakes off the impossible to shake off and sacrifices yourself needlessly for unrealistic goals. Do not heed the pointing fingers and hushed whispers of failure, and even moreso, do not point your finger to anyone else. Find a time to look at yourself in the mirror and say, “I’m doing my best.”

Maybe your best is finishing a single page of a ten-page paper for that day. Maybe your best is making that one phone call. Maybe your best is remembering to brush your teeth that morning. Maybe your best is surviving and living to have a discussion with a Warp-wandering oddling who comes from a time long before you.

For those you cherish, die in Glory, not in vain, and live for yourself most of all. Let what you cherish most, be yourself. By accepting your best, no matter what it truly is, you prevail - and for that, become stronger in yourself.

Wishing Michael a wonderful recovery.

#vox logs #pop culture paganism #michael aurelius #lamenters

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theastrophilearchitect · 3 years

Text

I started writing a book.

And I’m mad about it, because I just started this post, brought up a new tab and lost it because I didn’t save my draft.

Anyway. That’s a thing I did. Wow.

As of this moment, this post won’t be going up until April 19th, but I’m starting writing this at 10.30pm on Sunday, February 21st, 2021. I’ve done a lot in the last couple weeks, and I want to have some record of all I’ve accomplished without just letting most of it fade over the next two months.

I’ve always wanted to be an author. From when I was reading under my covers with a torch past bedtime, through the years I wanted to be an artist, through the years I wanted to be a lawyer. It’s always been there - no matter what primary career path I went down, I wanted to be an author. The last few years, I’ve been invested in becoming a biologist, and that dream really took a backseat.

In the start of this lockdown, my mental health went downhill, and some advice my therapist gave me was just to prioritise myself. It sounds simple enough, but, even in my free time, I’d been focusing on schoolwork - revising constantly for exams I’m still not sure are actually happening. (Boris Johnson is apparently making an announcement tomorrow about beginning to ease lockdown, but we’ll see) So, on Saturday, February 6th, I started an attempt to coalesce the ideas I had floating in my head into something tangible.

I’ve tried to write books countless times (not technically countless - I have all the documents on my laptop, so I could if I wanted to), but mostly, I’ve never gotten further than a couple bare plot points and some characters, maybe some ideas for subplots, before I’ve stagnated and given up.

Three times, I’ve finished a skeletal outline. Twice, I’ve started to go back over those outlines only to realise they made no sense or just seemed week, and simply not cared enough to fix it. Until now, I guess.

February 6th, 7th, and fast-forward to my week off beginning the 15th, up until the 19th, I kept developing this concept I’d managed to form, but I was struggling to establish a coherent plot. I had up until and including a midpoint (which was later condensed into just a first act), but everything after that was just a void. I began searching for some skeletal structure I could apply to it, both to work on pacing and fill in the blanks. I tried several, and got a little further, but was about to give up hope.

Then I remembered a video by Katytastic I’d watched years ago about the 3-act, 9-block, 27-chapter structure she used, and couldn’t see the harm in giving it a go. And something clicked.

You can find the video here - the structure’s detailed and easy to follow, plus she even gives an example of using it to generate a plot.

I started binge-watching her writing vlogs in the background, and even started using her same writing program, Scrivener, which just made every a thousand times easier by taking away the need to juggle a billion Word documents. It’s fairly pricey, but I’m currently using the 30-day free trial - it’s 30 days of use, not of ownership, too: if you use it every day, it lasts 30 days, but if you use it once a week, it lasts 30 weeks.

Where Kat used the 27 parts the structure broke down into as chapters, I chose to refer to them as beats, and separate chapters later.

On Saturday the 20th, I finished defining my scenes and started writing an actual draft. I wrote two scenes, putting me at a collective word count (not including notes, synopses, etc.) of 2,580 words.

This morning, Sunday the 21st, I started over. I hated my opening. I’m not going to go through the mess of today’s process, but I currently have around 80 one-line-outline scenes, split into 3 acts. I wrote a draft of my prologue and detailed-outlined (which I’m mentally referring to as zero-outlining because it’s similar to how Katytastic does what she calls a zero draft, but is very much outlining, not a draft) two and a half other chapters. Scriver also tells me how many words I wrote in total, across notes, character profiles, location lists, a document I’ve named ‘Train of Thought’ for my ramblings as I go etc.

Today, I wrote a grand total of 4,141 words, which, rather counterintuitively, puts me at a draft total of 2,598. That makes sense. Anyway.

There are a lot of unknowns in the world right now, and I have no idea how much time I’ll have in the next six months to invest in this project, but I’d like, at bare minimum, to have one complete draft by the start of the next school year in September, which gives me just over 6 months. Which is probably too much time to actually motivate myself, but that’s not the point.

A manuscript needs to have a minimum word count of 50K words to be considered a novel, so, even though my ultimate goal for this project is around 80K words, 50K is going to be my goal for this draft.

I’m being optimistic about sticking with this.

Tuesday 23/02/2021 - Word Count: 3,099 I wrote nothing yesterday; planning to focus writing solely on days off rather than work days, but last night, watching through the incredibly long queue of Alexa Donne writing videos, I came to the conclusion writing every day, even just a little, would be the best way to ensure I keep working on this, so I set myself a goal of just 500 words a day.

Wednesday 24/02/2021 - Word Count: 5,350 After doing a little bit of maths as to how long this outlining and draft would take me if I were to only write 500 words a day, I decided to boost that goal to 1,000. I got started around 1pm today, online school draining me so much I couldn’t face another two hours. I worked on and off until 6pm, and around 4.45pm, I finished outlining Act One!

Thursday 25/02/2021 - Word Count: 7,022 I continued my scene outlining into Act Two, but I hit a brick wall around the midpoint. I have to write chronologically - some people jump around, but I have to write linearly, or it feels like I’m trying to make something in a void. It just doesn’t work. I didn’t know how to get from one scene to the next - there were so many things I needed to establish to get there, but I didn’t want to backtrack. I decided to re-jig the whole thing, but, after dinner, I realised I didn’t have to, and instead, decided to just start a draft, conscious of the things I need to establish as I go.

Friday 26/02/2021 - Word Count: 8,208 Starting draft one, I rewrote the prologue I’d already written, technically putting me to my second draft of it, because I’d been thinking about it for days and just wanted to revisit it, and it was so much better. Then I moved on to chapter one, but decided I wanted to re-jig my chapters. While outlining, I’d split the whole book into only about twenty chapters, but decided to go for shorter ones for more effective divisions of the story. I got most of the way through the first scene of chapter one, but basically ran out of both time and motivation, since I hadn’t heavily outlined that scene. in total, I wrote over 2000 words today, but because I only increased the prologue word count by about 100 words, it didn’t do that much to the total count.

Saturday 27/02/2021 - Word Count: 11,050 I got some chores done Saturday morning and focused on finishing my book so I could include it in my February wrap-up, but I still had time to get some writing done around mid-day. My goal was just to hit 10K this weekend, but I though I could do it in one day. I wrote about 1,000 words before feeling a little word-drained, but took a break for lunch, got back to it and wrote 2,400 words. Though that only added a little over 2,000 to the word count, it took me to 10K! I’m 20% of the way to being able to call it a novel! We’re in quintuple digits!

And then eight hours later, I wrote another thousand words and got to 11K.

Sunday 28/02/2021 - Word Count: 13,722 I spent most of my Sunday morning writing, though it took me more than two hours to write about 1500 words, though it only added about 1100 to my count. I decided to set myself an overall and weekly deadlines to hold myself accountable. Due to the fact I don’t yet have a clue how many words this will work out as, I decided I wanted to have either a complete first draft or 100K words (which I doubt I’ll reach, but it seems like a good way to make myself finish the draft before my deadline) by the end of April. Which works out to a little under 1500 words a day, or just under 11K a week, which is perfectly doable. Bearing in mind my current word count is including outlines, but I still believe in myself.

I wrote another 1600 words later, which took me to 14K, until I deleted the 300 word outline I wrote for one scene, but I worked out my words per day for the next two months with the assumption of a 10K word count as of March 1st and a target of either a complete draft or 100K words by the end of April, so I’m nearly 4,000 words ahead of schedule. Which gives me 6,606 words to write this week, instead of 10,328. (If you couldn’t tell, I like numbers. They just make sense to me.

Monday 01/03/2021 - Word Count: 15,005 I didn’t quite hit my daily goal, but I was completely leached of motivation today, I’m ahead of schedule anyway and I was only under by less than 200 words. It’s alright. But, hey, we hit 15K! Two days after hitting 10K!

Tuesday 02/03/2021 - Word Count: 21,119 This was an insane writing day. My end-of-day target was only 16,480, and that was still ahead of schedule - if I was sticking to the 100K by April 30th, I’d only actually need to be at 12,950 today. This was the best writing day I’ve ever had. I wrote before school and during breaks, which kept both my writing and working momentum up.

I didn’t read a page of my current read, but I wrote a total of 7,681 words and increased my wordcount by 6,114 words, or literally an additional 40.75%. I hit 20K three days after hitting 10K, and am 42.238% of the way to being able to say I wrote a novel, be it a shitty first draft that won’t be complete at 50K words.

I also finished chapter three, which I’ve been working on for three days and came out ~5,000 words, and wrote chapters four and five in their entirety.

Note to self: this is day 10 of vaguely outline-drafting this project.

Wednesday 03/03/2021 - Word Count: 23,364 I've only written 490 words today, as of writing this update, but I just wanted to make note of the fact I've done some calculations, and can reasonably finish my draft this month. I'm still not completely sure how long it'll work out to be, so I can't quite work out my daily words to finish on the 31st, but if I stick to my current 1,475 words a day, I'll hit 63,894 words by the end of the month, which is a little less than I imagine this draft will be, but if I stick to that as a minimum, my first draft won't have to go into April.

I'd like to post this later this week, but I already have a post for this Friday, so God only knows how long this will be by the time it goes up. So far, I've written 1,900 words today, and I don't think I'm out of fuel yet, but I'm stopping because I need to read today, and I'd rather not burn out. I'm over my goal, anyway.

Oh, also, I'm nearly at 25K, which is halfway to a novel, but I haven't broken into Act Two yet, which means this book will be 75K minimum. I'm going to do some maths and work out how many words a day to hit 80K by March 31st. 2,030. That's doable. So I haven't read, but back to writing for like ten minutes.

I've now hit an additional 2,245 words for the day, though I wrote a total of 2,663

Thursday 04/03/2021 - Word Count: 25,415 I've decided to work out how many words I need to write each day to hit 80K by March 31st, and watch the fluctuations. (I like statistics). It should steadily go down throughout the month if I surpass it each day. Today's minimum word count is 2,023, already seven words less than yesterday's. How exciting.

The last scene of Act One was very heavy on world-building I haven't yet figured out, so I stuck what was meant to happen in brackets and just moved on, meaning I have now broken into Act Two!

I think, during the week, I'm going to focus on just meeting my minimum word count rather than exceeding it, just to save fuel for the weekends, when I can write so many more words.

And, we hit 25K! I'm halfway to a novel!

Friday 05/03/2021 - Word Count: 26,693 In complete honesty, I'm beginning to lose momentum. Maybe it's just today, but I don't really want to write and feel like I need a break, but I'm going to make myself write anyway. I'm going to make myself keep writing until this draft is done, however shitty it may end up. I really hate first drafts.

When you say 2,000 words is only 7-8 pages, it doesn't sound like that much to write per day but my god. Luckily, most of the stuff I've had to save to a Pinterest board called 'Writing Motivation' says if you write when you don't want to, it should pass instead of worsening. I wanted to hit 35K this weekend, but I'm not sure I'll have the momentum. I'll at least hit 31,270, though, which is my minimum goal for this week. I'm still over 700 words off my goal for today, but I'm taking a break because my head is foggy and there's still eight hours left in the day. Besides, 700 after dinner is easy. She says, realising she's probably jinxing it. Oh, well. 80K by March 31st would be difficult, even if I weren't going back to school soon, but that's a stretch goal. 100K by April 31st is my minimum, and I'm 9,000 ahead of where I need to be for that.

I think I’m stagnating because I’ve hit the ‘Fun and Games’ section, which I find really boring. I’m going to try to keep going with it, but I may just skip it and come back later.

Saturday 06/03/2021 - Word Count: 28,150 So, I did not get the extra 700 words in. Before dinner, some stuff I had to deal with came up, and by the time it was done, I just wanted to go to bed, so I did. Today, I'm going to try to make up for it, which I think is reasonable because it is now the weekend. I'm still kinda exhausted this morning, but I'm going to do my best, and my wrist hurts, but I'm not sure why. You'd think it would be from all the typing, but only one wrist hurts - you know what? Never mind. They do both hurt. I'm just not sure why, but it doesn't hurt typing this, so that doesn't make any sense. Anyway, to hit my word count for the day, I need to write 2,555 words, which doesn't sound like too much, but it kinda is because I'm primarily writing Act Two at the minute, and for every thousand words I write, I lose like 400 from my outline. You'd think I'd just not include my scene outlines in the word count, but it's too late for that now.

I'm thinking this over, and I really don't think trying to write 80K by the end of the month is going to be good for either my motivation, mental health, or ability to function back at school, so I'm going to stick to 100K or a finished draft by April 30th, and re-work out my goals from there, based on yesterday's word count, so I'm not making myself do catch-up today.

So, to hit 100K by April 30th, I only need to write 1,309 words each day (which will decrease over time because if that's my minimum now, I'll probably surpass it, decreasing the amount of words left etc.). That's so much less pressure.

God, I really don't want to write today. I just want to watch YouTube and Netflix and read.

Okay, so here's the thing. I've been working on this story straight for three weeks and I'm kinda exhausted of it. I'm not done with it, not at all, and I want to keep working on it because it exists, which makes it workable.

I watched a writing vlog by ShaelinWrites yesterday, and she said she writes different projects at once, alternating in week- or multi-week-long blocks. I think I might try that.

My plan with this post and the following updates was to keep updating it until the day it goes up, the day after which is when I begin drafting the next, but, since I may be switching projects for a while and this is really about the project I've decided to dub 'Bay Tree' (which is just, I guess, a pseudonym for here because while I have no idea what it would eventually be called, I know that's nothing like the title I'd want to give it) so I'd want to start a new post for a new project.

I'm now doing a little outlining instead of actually continuing writing, but I think this will help me, though I'm still not certain about whether or not I'm going to directly continue with this specific project for the minute. Instead of setting daily goals based on a target, I'm also just going to say 1,000 words a day, and see where that takes me.

I've just been outlining into Act Three, and I've met a major plot stumble, but I'm going to work that out and explain what I'm doing in my next writing update.

So, go drink some water, eat if you haven't eaten in the last few hours, stand in front of the mirror and tell yourself how wonderful you are and how much happiness you deserve, and, if you want to write a book, stop thinking about it, and go write.

#blog #blogging #blogger #blogpost #blog post #writing #books #book #reading #read #write #writer #author #draft #first draft #story #writing blog #writerblr #bookblr #novel #debut

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geeky-marie · 4 years

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Hi! So you know that challenging like 21 shots for 21st birthday? What if the reader goes out for their bday and gets pressured into doing it by friends and Dewey finds them later like worryingly drunk, so has to take them home basically carrying them and tries his best and gets extremely worried (eg. Sits up all night to make sure they don’t choke, holds hair, plenty of water). The next day they have a killer hangover so he tries to make them comfortable x

The birthday shot challenge

Dewey Finn

School of rock musical

A/N : Thank you for your request anon. I hope you will like your request ( Please I appreciate a feedback as a anon or not since I change some things in your request). I would like to make a little warning here. If you plan to drink, please assure you to have a friend you trust to help you in case. Nobody like to end the night at the hospital, and, of course, if your friend put you under pressure to drink. Don’t listen to them, you shouldn’t make you sick because people push you to do something. Take care of you !

----

Your birthday was an absolute blast. A loud, blurry, train wreck of a party. Around you, many of your friends were already wasted by the time you reach the last stop of your night. The little roadhouse.

You were yourself a little bit drunk. But, nothing to be worried about. After all, the initial goal of this night was that you have fun, and until now, your friend seems to understand it clearly.

You had loved the ambiance of the roadhouse since the moment that you had pushed the door. More quiet than the last place you were, a live rock band was playing, putting all their heart in an old AC/DC song. Excited, or just really drunk, many of your friends had brought you to the little dance floor, signing with the band between two dance moves.

It was after one of your friends made you spin,laughing, that you saw him. Focus on his guitar, lifting his head only to sing with one of the best voices you have heard of your life, his brown messy lock stick on his forehead, his fingers passing easily from a string to another. You didn’t realise until your friend gently pushed you that you were staring. Neither that his gaze was now on you as you were talking to your friend.

“ Come on , we go back with the other “ She said, taking your hand like she was scared to lose you in the small room.

Following her, you suddenly feel your heart skip a beat at the sign of the table. You were sure that your friend had understood your desire to have a fun but safe birthday party. But now, standing in front of the table, your age in shot display in front of you, you weren’t so sure that you had been that clear.

“ Come on Y/N ! It’s a tradition ! “

“ You can do it ! “

“ Come on ! it’s a gift, do it ! “

You heard all around you, putting you under pressure to drink. Taking a deep breath, looking around you, you take the first shot, drinking it under the encouraging scream of your friends.

After that, your night becomes a spinning wheel of Whiskey, Vodka and Gin.

Dewey was putting his guitar on his case, lifting his eyes often to give a glance around. During a gig, he usually focuses on the music, paying only a little attention to the crowd. But tonight, he couldn’t resist. Watching you moving around, dancing like a living goddess, singing loud,drinking an alarming quantity of glasses, having fun. Maybe too much fun.

You weren’t the first birthday girl he saw drinking like this as their party. And you will probably not be the last. But, watching you hesitating at drinking all these shots, pushed by your friend. A desire to see if you’re okay and protect you if needed grows in him. however, before he could reach you, you had disappeared.

Waving goodbye at his other band mate, his case in one hand, he made his way to the door. Dewey was almost outside when he heard a soft but weird sound coming for the toilet corridor. Like someone drunkenly singing happy birthday. Curious, he stepped back a little, turning the corner.

And there you were, sitting on the floor, your back against the wall, you head fighting to stay up and your eyes half open. Completely alone. Feeling his blood freeze in is veine, he proceeds to a quick check up to see if you seem injured or worse.

“ Hey, are you alright, did one of your friends use the toilet ? Do you need help ?” He softly asks, putting a knee on the floor, putting his fresh palm against your burning cheeks.

“ d…know…di..n’t see….” You succeed to tell, your eyes close, sleepy like you never were before.

Looking around, knowing that nobody was in the main room, he knocks at the door of the toilet, waiting before realizing that it was empty. Giving you a look, he helps you to get back on your feet, his arm passing around your waist.

“ Well, I guess we will have to try to find you a taxi or…somethings…a coffee maybe…”

Passing the door the cold wind of the night, helping a little to reduce the smell of the booze of your skin. He stops for a minute, reaching his phone out of his pocket. Your head resting on his shoulder, he tries to not smile at the feeling of your arms wrap around his neck.

“ Hey…You’re the sexy guitarist !” you suddenly exclaim, telling your first comprehensive sentence since he saw you on the floor.

Surprise, he turned his head, meeting your gaze. You think that he’s…sexy ?!

“ T…Thank…I um…Do you want I call you a taxi…did you have somebody at home or a friend I could call ? “ He proposed.

Shaking your head in a denial sign, you suddenly stop, a wave of nausea clearly writing in your face.

“ Woh woh woh…breath, okay…then I…I guess that hmm…you can come at my flat… my car is there.” Walking slowly, each step difficult, he helps you sit on the passenger seat and try to not drive too fast.

His apartment was small but comfortable. On every wall, posters of rock bands were screaming his love for music.

Comfortably installed in his bed. His Darth Vader pillow behind your back ,maintains you in a sitting position, reducing the risk of being sick for the fourth time that night. You were floating in one of his large shirts, necessaries item he quickly gave you after you decided that your clothes were too hot on your skin.

Gently putting a glass of water into your hand, Dewey watch you drinking it, preparing a small bed for himself on the floor.

“ Can…kiss you ? “ You suddenly ask, tilting your head on the side.

Damn it that you were cute when you was acting like that.

“ Well, you have no idea how I would like to say yes, goddamn you’re so gorgeous, but really it’s not a good idea now, maybe tomorrow, when you…well…will be more…yourself” He politely replied. “ If you need something I am just right there okay ? “ He informed you, trying to leave your side where he had sat a moment to take the empty glass.

“ Okay” You simply reply, resting your head on his shoulder, your fingers lacing with his, finally found a little peace to sleep.

In shock,swearing under his breath, not wanting to wake you up after such a worriedly and difficult night, he simply closed his eyes, falling asleep with you.

The light of the sun filling the room awakens you like an earthquake. Opening your eyes with difficulty, you suddenly shut them, feeling a flash of pain. Burying your face in the nearest pillow, you suddenly realize something strange. Your pillow was breathing….his odor really masculine… and…Oh god…is that an arm on your hips !?

Forcing you to open your eyes, you suddenly realize the position you had put yourself into. Lay on your side, facing a large torso, your head on his upper arm. His chin resting on the top of your head, he was covering you with his arms, creating for you a comfortable and warm nest.

Trying to step back a little, your head harming, you heard him growl, bringing you closer. It takes you some time before being able to identify your new body pillow. Letting a loud gasp you couldn’t contain, you suddenly recognize the cute guitarist of yesterday.

Awake by your sudden noise, Dewey opens his eyes. First confused by your red cheeks, he suddenly realized the intimate position you had both taken during the night. Suddenly letting you go, his own face flustered, he sat up in the bed, his messy hair making you wonder if he they once in his life be affected by gravity.

“ Hi…hm….did we…did…something happen ? ” You ask embarrassed, trying to not let your hurting head affect you.

“ What..? No, no we don’t…” He suddenly replied, realizing the sense of your question, jumping in the bed, his hand lifted in sign of defense “ I just…you were dangerously drunk at the roadhouse and I found you alone. I asked you if I could call somebody but you couldn’t give me a proper answer… so I just bring you here to help you…I was worried about you…”

“ Why…Why am I wearing one of your t-shirts?” You continu, a small tension releases in your stomach of the idea that he didn’t take advantage of you.

“ You put it yourself I swear” He assured you, passing a hand in his beautiful brown lock. “ I was in the kitchen making coffee…when I came back you were removing your top…But I swear I saw nothing !! I ran to my room to give you a shirt, promise !” He continues watching your horrified reaction.

Sitting at his side, your eyes hurting due to the sun, you feel all the tension in your shoulder leave.

“ I did nothing wrong, I just helped you, I swear. I held your hair when you were sick… gave you water…I even made myself a bed on the floor but you fell asleep on me…I didn’t want to wake you up” He confesses, placing his sunglasses on the bridge of your nose.

Surprised by your luck and still a bit shy, you turn your head, watching his smile illuminate his face.

“ We should start all this all over again, shall we…Hi, i’m Dewey.” He presented himself, offering you his hand.

Smiling at your turn, you shake his hand.

“ Y/N, thank you for everything and sorry to had bothering you so much and for all the stupidity I probably said“

“ That’s okay, soo…you found me sexy yesterday” He laughed, teasing you a little.

Feeling your face becoming hot, you bury it into your hand wishing to suddenly disappear.

“ Hey, don’t worry, that’s ok. I find you really gorgeous too, you even distracted me from my music a little. “ He continu, removing your hands from your face.

Your cheeks still flustered, you smile, meeting his gaze.

“ Coffee…? “ He kindly ask.

“ I loved to…” You simply reply, still smiling.

You hangover was maybe awful, but, with Dewey, you knew that everything will be perfectly fine.

–

PLEASE don’t forget to like or comment or reblog !

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#dewey finn #dewey finn x reader #dewey finn fluff #dewey #school of rock #school of rock broadway #school of rock bway #Alex Brightman

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