#You may say I'm a dreamer but I'm not the only one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

c4qwp · 3 months

Text

felix catton x fem!reader

| you understand.

📎 tags : angst, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix be i'm such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, felix being a bit annoying but also a cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned, angst asfff

📎 author's note : don't hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn't my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

you would have seen it coming.

"i think we should break up."

so faint and uncertain, barely more than a whisper.

he looked uncomfortably hunched over, his forearms resting on the table, his breakfast untouched, like he was trying to make himself smaller than you, which was ironic considering you envied his nerves of steel, and of course he was smaller than you shorter It was a very embarrassing moment for a handsome man, but not this kind of moment. Never this weakness.

although the winter sun shines through the windows, the kitchen is still dark and the unpleasant feeling of unusual transparency is almost suffocating. felix isn't the type to get flustered in public, which makes you even more nervous, just when you think you've had all the training you need to imagine scenarios and possible breakup possibilities in every direction.

he didn't dare look at you, shaking his head nervously, choking silently. "say something."

howfunny that he's the best thing you know and can lift you up with one arm effortlessly — his biceps are literally the size of your head, but he says if anyone touches him, he'll cry right now.

It's also a hard pill to swallow, and it's not true that you did this to him, weakening him. you didn't know you had that much power over him yet; and he said he wanted to break, but if he actually said he did, he'd throw up. you shifted in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digging into your skin as your body became hyperaware of everything around you, turning your attention away from felix and crossing your hands in your lap.

the answer is on the tip of your tongue, where it has been hidden for months. of course you let him go, and what makes it easier is accepting his warning that half the things about him will be absent and secret, or knowing from the start that your time with him will be limited.

you just don't hesitate; completely overcome the first four stages of grief and begin to accept with ease.

felix catton was essentially ephemeral, either a dreamer or a visible absentee in the present moment of your life. you think of him as an outside cat who was never yours to begin with, appearing randomly and unwittingly when he wanted, a flighty, mysterious companion who was happy and eager to be around.

you don't know if he loves you so much. everyone loved felix. everyone wanted to be around him. the love was there, enough to last a long time, but you thought it was because you were secure and stable.

you were glad you gave him that, if only because you honestly weren't sure what he saw in you.

what was going on was easy enough to experience and because of that you didn't allow yourself to get too attached to him because you knew he didn't love you as much as you loved him. maybe you're kidding yourself, maybe you're sleepy and not as cool as you thought, but you're convinced that's the way it should be, the way it should be.

what's the point of realizing your name isn't at the top of his list?

are you even were you good enough for him? a feeling of insecurity has been itching you for a long time. you may have been beautiful and intelligent, but were you the first in his eyes?

you can't ever be mad at him. you wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all. felix is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-brown hair doesnt shine like it usually does. he hasn't gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days because of his family's issues. time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his pub. wearing a white shirt, he looked very casual and didn't seem to beg to be singled out. feel sorry for him.

"alright."

he snapped his head up, his eyes immediately meeting yours, and they were no longer blank. he looked unsure if he had heard correctly and had a look of disbelief on his face. "wait what?"

your fingers traced the rim of your teacup, mimicking felix's eager movements. "you can start packing today, but if you want to stop today, i don't mind..."

"no, wait-"

"i said yes, felix."

he frowned at the name, his eyes looking away from you for a moment, and he had to blink, and you thought that not having your usual nickname had hurt him. He had to swallow before he could speak.

"and that's it?"

you don't know if this is an attempt to end your relationship or if you want to let him go easily. you do not get it. what can you say.

"what do you want me to say?"

he sighed, looked away, wiped his forehead with his hand and covered his eyes. yes, not that your hopes are in vain. you have to say no.

he's as handsome as ever, but of course he'll want to know how comfortable you are, and he won't appreciate it when he changes his design. "i heard and will agree so we co—"

"aren't you mad at me?"

this is really what he thought first?

"i don't want to get upset."

"why...?"

"well, ..." because you love him, but talking about him will make it harder.

"i'm not sure. but we are both adult and need to talk like one. i think you and i have been very good together all along. I'm not mad at you for anything. understand."

he had such a subtle, sarcastic look on his face that if you were a complete stranger you would have thought it was sarcasm, but you knew better. He insulted himself. you can read it. but you should think about it. you should be mad at him. why the fuck is he upset. things about felix seem too good to be true, his only flaw is that he is a literal playboy. but of course stopped all his relationships with other girls, right?

"don't you want to know the reason? i mean, my god, why are you taking it so passively?"

"what do you mean?"

it's hard for you too.

"how can you not be so affected?"

"It's not like that. If you want to break up, i can't make you stay, or do anything you don't want to do. that's not fair to any of us. you will be with someone you don't want, and i would know im with someone who doesn't want me."

he shook his head, brown hair framing his face, which floated gently in the air. when he strongly disagrees

with something you say, but decides to say no at the last minute, he'll furrow his brows in anger and you'll feel a little disappointed because he's not denying that he doesn't want you. "you're always doing that, you're always doing that..getting mad. you must be mad at me."

"felix. I'm just tired of all this. you want to beak up and i said yes."

he just said, "I'm sorry,"

he hated it, that was all he had to offer you, and it showed on his face. sit in the chair next to him, you both need some good communication privacy right now. "but i have plenty of time to cry, okay?

"it's not like i'm accepting it or being negative or anything... and"

"grieving?"

his eyes search yours for a moment, the realization making him gasp and his eyebrows raise, making him look younger and more innocent.

looking forward to it.

"yeah, i mean.." pressing your lips together.

"look at us. in the long run, this doesn't work. It's not real. i don't know how we got here."

his pupils swallowed all the blue in his eyes, and he had never looked at you with such hostility until the hair on your arms stood up. "did you just think about breaking up?"

"why are you mad at me now? what have I done? you're the one who broke up with me."

"you weren't happy at all. haven't you always been sure?"

"i was and i still am. it's just...you've changed, felix. you're not looking at me like before. i don't know if it's because of me that you've changed but i was here for you every single time. but no mister doesn't want to talk so go to the pub and come back all drunk and doesn't give a shit about me. so yeah i was confused about a time and wasn't sure."

his eyes were finally on you. he called your name, repeated it. "i'm so sorry, love. i'm so-"

"no felix. i'm tired. so please leave me alone for a time and let's talk an other time."

there was a blank of 2 minutes. as you wanted to say another word,

"i understand."

#jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x fem! reader #angst

449 notes · View notes

razzberriezz · 6 months

Text

Fashion Dreamer Tips & Tricks

Some stuff only I found that isn't mentioned or in-game at all or is easily missed as far as I'm aware? I hope it helps some of you guys out :) It is quite image-heavy under the cut, fair warning!!

Colour Matching (Item Creator) Pressing down on the left stick changes the display from mannequin to the item itself, but pressing it again will show whatever item you're creating along with whatever your muse is currently wearing.

So if you've gotten a custom coloured item from someone else, this is great for making items and accessories to match with it! And you don't have to waste 120k points trying to match colours by guesstimation instead like me :'))) Or maybe I'm just dumb because I knew how to zoom in and out, just not the display switching OTL

2. Showroom Configuration (is stupid) This is for the Happy Home Paradise players... Make sure that any mannequins or clothing you display in your showroom is actually accessible, because you cannot walk under ceiling decorations, even if they are lighting. I have no idea why. You also can't change the camera angle, so it'd be best not to put the door/panel decorations all in a row at the front, because then players can't see what you're even displaying (unless it's just like a mannequin in the middle surrounded by lockers... Idk)

Taking the time to plug my showroom again before I swap out the outfits for the fancier stuff I have >o< Find me at a8xv4JW3Am!

3. Muse Advisors There are at least 2 or 3 advisors who are present at the Muse Mirror in each Cocoon in rotation. (e.g. Noz and Iris in HOPE) They can not only suggest colours and unique makeup that you haven't obtained yet* (I've seen a look where your character gets like a Batman/Robin mask lol), but also give you their own! If the one whose look you want isn't there, you just have to quick-travel (press down on the right stick) to another Cocoon and back. Otherwise, you can just keep talking to them and backing out until their option shows up.

Before & After (Iris ver.)!

(*Unfortunately, they won't give you unique eye shines/reflections.)

4. NPCs I've just learnt that the NPCs you start with are most likely random. I've seen others start with NPCs I haven't even seen or heard of! You need to raise their friendship level until you get a special event that says 'Friend Introduction' - and even then, I think the NPC who appears next might be random (unconfirmed). This may make it quite a pain for those who want the unnatural skin colours, since I believe they are only unlockable via NPC friendship rank... So just go into solo mode and spam some outfits :')

5. Camera Angles and Idle Poses This one is a bit useless, but I didn't know about it until now so it's going in. Most of the time, I use the drone camera to take photos, but could never really fit fullbody photos - turns out, you need to angle the camera slightly downwards (have your character looking up) to be able to zoom out enough to fit your Muse's whole body in. If the camera angle is level with your Muse, you will never be able to get a fullbody picture. Who thought this would be a good idea???

Level angle and tilted angle - the level angle is already at the lowest it could go.

Additionally, waiting for a while will let your character have the time to perform some idle animations, some of which (I think) are not present in the poses option, even via NPC friendship rank. The downside is that you'll have to crop out some parts of the UI and the quality will be a little lower - however, that can be fixed using waifu2x (which I tend to use anyways for aesthetic posts lol).

Before & After using waifu2x!

Since the game is so new I thought this might be helpful to some who are also just starting out. If anything here is wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it as soon as possible!

#fashion dreamer #my.fashion.dreamer.posts #idk what else to tag so this is it for now

461 notes · View notes

cerastes · 1 month

Note

can i get other examples of gamepress being wrong about arknights? i've been using them as my main source since i started and now i'm worried i'm missing out on some operators i haven't bothered to upgrade 🙃

We could be here literally all day because it's not like they have one or two outliers, Gamepress is just mainly edited by people that live in an echo chamber and that have authority in their own circle so it's just off-the-hip, all too often wrong biased takes based on their own really reductive metrics. Chiefly, Gamepress ranks characters 1) as if they were the sole unit in the battlefield almost exclusively, and 2) using the single most broken units currently live as the barrier of entry. The unit you are looking up can't clear a chunk of map in one tap? Worthless and sub-optimal, according to Gamepress. Their only metric is Mlynar, Ch'ung the Hung, Surtr, that kind of Press To Win philosophy, and if a unit can't do that, Then It's Bad And Not Worth It.

Now, you may be thinking, "goodness me, Dreamer, you are being awfully harsh to call them complete dogshit at every angle of the game in this manner!", well, see, it's not just their Operator "reviews", they have articles sometimes. And they are god awful dogshit as well, such as "What Happened To Blaze?"

You can't see the comments anymore, but the author was getting reamed. I have one screenie at least:

Comments were mainly of this nature. Because, well, the article is straight up awful, especially since it reduces Blaze to "laneholder" and compares her to "competition" like Thorns, Mudrock, and Mountain, who, yes, they all can hold a lane, but Blaze has her own space of "infinite duration, high statline, healable 3-block with 2 tile range" that has historically allowed for Funny Tricks like clearing enemies through "walls" on tiles that could shred Thorns even with a healer, or, you know, in conjunction with any of Mudrock or Mountain, given you have 12 whole slots for you team. Again, Gamepress editors rate characters as if they were your main in a fighting game and not one of 12+1 characters you can throw in at any time. They also tend to shit on non-specialist characters (generalists; more versatile units that can do a bunch of things without really breaking the game in any regard), which is very interesting because those usually will make up a strong backbone of any competent Integrated Strategies team, so the specialists in role can do their thing while the other needs of the map are being met.

"Ebenholz is nothing special." "Goldenglow is nothing special." These are takes they genuinely held until, you know, it turned out that Eben and GG are the most relevant Casters, up there with Eyja. To be fair, it wasn't just them being wrong on Eben, but how do you look at the global blasting of GG with her numbers and don't immediately realize that's an ICBM button? All it takes is having the game installed.

The biased nature of Gamepress is also blatant:

Imagine rating April as "Really Good" while relegating Dorothy as only "Really Fun". Even before her Module3, Dorothy was absolutely devastating, bringing huge damage multipliers, crowd control, one of the single best class autoattacks in the whole game at 6* stat weight, and a Talent that gives her even more Attack for basically using her as intended. I'm not saying April isn't good, mind you, I'm just trying to highlight how biased the hands behind Gamepress are: They can't figure out Trapmasters? Then surely they are merely "really fun". Can't drop and forget them like April or Surtr, after all.

About the only thing Gamepress is good for is objective, in-game info: Dates, mat requirements, what skills do, that kind of stuff. It's got a good interface and is a good place to just quickly look up what you need to know that can otherwise be found in the game. The moment their personal opinions come into play, though? The most absolute dogshit takes. Unless you are a "unga bunga drop Surtr and Mlynar and win instan-- WAIT WHY IS INTEGRATED STRATEGIES AND RISK 23+ KICKING MY DAY 1 PLAYER ASS...!?" kinda player, then you don't really want to follow Gamepress advice.

Because they simply do not give good advice as a whole.

#corvidthots #arknights #gamepress

185 notes · View notes

gabessquishytum · 1 month

Note

Time for some dreamling crack! I apologize for the length, it got out of control. Destiny is done. He's just done, okay? He's had enough of his parents who were never there, siblings who are constantly up to some shit, and his ultra-serious job with no vacations. Moreover, being constantly chained to a book (especially when it's such a huge and heavy book) sucks. So, one day he makes an ultimate decision to go on a holiday into some remote galaxy for a century or two, but first, he needs to complete one task that he actually assigned to himself. Technically, he's not supposed to intervene and all that cosmic bullshit, but he's Destiny, and that's his destiny, pun intended. He's the CEO! The year is 1389. Destiny calls Death and tells her they need to go to Dream asap. She's surprised and slightly worried but obeys without questions. Dream is even more surprised - Destiny normally never visits, so the circumstances must be exceptional. Which they are. Destiny is in no mood for pleasantries and gets straight to the business, informing Dream that he needs to get laid for the common good. Dream bluescreens, and so does Death. 'I beg you pardon?' Dream blinks. Destiny never jokes, and he must have misheard… But Destiny, in his impassive, 100% serious tone, repeats that Dream does need to get laid. To prevent the deaths of thousands of dreamers in the 20th century, to prevent the grudge with hell, to save multiple dreams and nightmares, etc., but ultimately, to save himself from the ill fate. 'All this can be prevented if I get laid?' Dream's metaphorical head is spinning. 'Yes,' Destiny deadpans. 'Okay...' Death interrupts cautiously. 'Why am I here, though?' 'Because he needs to get laid regularly, and there is only one human who can handle this task. He must be made immortal for this reason.'

Dream feels like the Dream.exe file has been irrevocably damaged. 'I need to get laid regularly?' He repeats weakly. 'Brother, you know how important my function is. I have no time for-' 'This is exactly why you meet your doom in all the futures but one.' '…where I'm getting laid?' Destiny nods. Death beams. Dream pales to a previously unexisting shade of white. Without further ado, Destiny takes them all to the White Horse, buys some ale (his vacation mood starts to kick in - he expected more objections from Dream), and nods at one table. 'Robert Gadling. He is the chosen one.' 'Brother, you surely do not want me to lay with a mortal who has fleas and hasn't bathed for Delirium knows how long,' says terrified Dream. 'I surely do. Fleas are the least of your potential problems, little brother.' 'Alright.' Death says. 'Robert Gadling is immortal now. Can I go?' Destiny nods again. Death smiles and, before disappearing, loudly whispers to Dream to invite her to the wedding. Dream glances one last time at his brother and approaches Robert's table. If this is his destiny...and it's for the greater good of the universe and dreamers...Besides, this Robert Gadling is quite handsome - well, unwashed and smelly, but handsome still. Destiny is very pleased. Now, he only needs to sign up Desire for a few millennia of uncancellable therapy, and he can go drink his cocktails in a galaxy far, far away!

I love this, thank you so much for writing it all out. It really made me chuckle.

I'm absolutely obsessed with the idea of Destiny just getting really sick of the universe and all the bullshit that it contains. He's the equivalent of a harassed middle aged working parent attempting to keep everything under control and inevitably watching it all go to shit. He deserves such a good vacation, I hope there's a really good spa in the galaxy he's picked out.

Being the oldest sibling is hard, even when you come from a family of cosmic entities. And honestly? Destiny kind of likes the look of his new human brother-in-law. If this guy can keep Dream from going off the rails then that's wonderful, but the fact that he's cute? Also helps. Destiny may be blind but he is not immune to the Hobpropaganda. He's actually kind of not dreading the next family dinner? He can already see that it's going to run a whole lot smoother with Hob around the table.

But first: bottomless mimosas in a different star system. Bye, losers!

#the sandman #dreamling

135 notes · View notes

inmyglenpowellera · 2 months

Text

Bad Reputation Part 1 | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Taylor Swift inspired!OC

Request: Requested by @akornsworld

Word Count: 3457 words

Summary: There's that saying for some people, “You can't go home again.” When you grow up and leave, that's it, you don't go back home. Presley Joann Benjamin (stage name Presley Jo) believed that was the case for her. Never did she think she would be right back where she started. But her Aunt insisted it was the best for her. She thought for sure her life and career were over until she meets a certain cocky aviator.

Warnings: Alcohol use, angst if you squint, maybe some cursing, fluff, some depression if you squint

A/N: This will be a multipart imagine. Not sure how many chapters there will be yet.

She made it. She was one of the biggest singer/songwriters this generation has ever known. She was a hit pop sensation. She went on tour, her more recent ones going international. She won many awards: Grammy's, Billboard, MTV Awards, VMA's. She had many other accomplishments she was proud of and didn't think she would even come close to experiencing what she had. Things were going great… until they weren't.

Things started to go downhill, and they went downhill fast. Her reputation was ruined. All because she refused to be used and abused in Hollywood. Everything started to fall apart. The cancel culture started to come for her. She was completely lost on what to do. Which is why she disappeared from the public eye.

She didn't answer her phone for days. Her aunt began to lose her mind and flew from San Diego to New York to see if she was even alive. What she didn't expect was to walk into her niece's loft to find her lying in her bed in the dark. Tissues and multiple bottles of alcohol littering the bed and floor. Her aunt knew then and there she couldn't survive this dark period by herself. She forced her up out of bed, demanded she take a shower, and forced her to pack her bags to come home.

Home, the place she hasn't been in about 10 years. When she was still a bright-eyed 20-year-old dreamer. The place where she got her start while working part-time at her aunt's bar as a server. Where her now ex-asshole manager discovered her. Playing and singing her heart out on that old piano in the middle of the bar, entertaining the aviators currently stationed in the area, who she was sure said they “knew her when” when she finally started becoming known.

She can't stop staring at that old piano through her sunglasses from her bar stool.

“Why don't you go play something? The only person who ever touches it anymore is Bradley,” Penny said to her niece, cleaning out a beer glass before placing it with the others.

“No thank you,” Presley said quietly, adjusting her baseball cap on her head.

“Well, can you at least take the hat and glasses off? And look at me when I'm talking to you,” Penny requested, laying her rag on the counter.

Presley huffed and turned around on her bar stool. “I'll take my glasses off and look at you but I'm keeping the hat on.”

“Presley, nobody is here right now,” Penny argued, gesturing around the empty and currently closed bar.

“Exactly, right now. But you know as well as I do that this place will be packed in less than an hour and I really don’t feel like being mobbed considering the current state of my life,” I argued back with her.

“The current state of your life that you are going to get through and fix. You're a Benjamin, nothing can stop us,” She reassured me.

I sighed in response to her words and attempted to slam my forehead down onto the bartop. However, I let out a groan in pain when I just ended up hitting the bill of my ballcap off of it instead. I heard Penny sigh and heard the telltale sound of her walking around the bar and moving to sit on the barstool next to me. She began to run her hand through the ponytail sticking out of the back of my ballcap before speaking.

“Presley, I know what you are going through right now is hard and you may feel like your life is over. But that is so far from the truth. I brought you back here not just because you needed the support, but because you needed to get back in touch with your roots. You may not believe this, but sometimes going back to where it all started helps to see where it all went wrong,” She whispered to me.

I scoffed in reply and lifted my head up. “I know where it all went wrong.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But until then, I want you to at least try to live your life. Stop focusing on what happened and focus on what could be. Don’t worry about writing your next hit or whether you will be invited to the next award show. Focus on spending time with me and Amelia and being normal.”

I stared at her for a moment before nodding with a sigh. “Alright, fine. Where do you want me to start?”

She nodded at me gratefully before standing from the bar stool. “You can start by helping me open the bar. I know you know how to. Go to the stock room and grab what we need and then help me finish the glasses.”

I groaned in annoyance before standing from my chair and moving to do as she asked.

---------

The moment the first person walked into the bar I rushed to push my sunglasses back on my face and kept my head down and I have continued to do so since the bar opened about 30 minutes ago. The place has had people nonstop coming in and out. Aviators, soldiers, and civilians taking up the space around me. The once-quiet bar was slowly becoming louder as more people filtered in and the evening rush slowly began to take hold.

A glass being placed in front of me caused me to look up briefly at the bartender standing there with a smile.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I smiled back at him.

“This stays between you and me. Your aunt told me not to serve you but I figured one drink wouldn’t hurt,” Jimmy told me, pointing his finger at me as if he was scolding me.

“Don’t worry. She won’t hear it from me,” I reassured him, reaching forward for the drink in front of me.

Jimmy gave me a thankful nod before moving to serve another person. I sighed and took a sip of my drink when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see another news article about me. I sighed and clicked on it, frowning at the words glaring back at me.

“Presley Jo: Where is the Princess? Has she run away to hide in her castle?”

“I’m not a princess,” I grumbled to myself, glaring at my phone as someone appeared next to me at the bar.

“Jimmy, I’ll have 6 more, and whatever the “not princess” is having,” a voice with a distinct southern accent spoke up from next to me.

I slightly raised my head and pocketed my phone, looking over at the person standing next to me through my sunglasses before looking over at Jimmy.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary, Jimmy,” I told the old man who nodded at me.

“Aw, c’mon darling. Let a nice man buy a beautiful woman a drink,” He argued with me in his accent, leaning on the bar sideways so he could look at me.

I let out a small giggle and shook my head, looking over at him and looking him over from top to bottom. Sandy blonde hair styled to perfection, bright green eyes shining in the lights of the bar, thin lips pressed into a smirk, and a khaki uniform that causes me to roll my eyes from behind my glasses and look forward. A gorgeous human being ruined by what he does for a living.

“Well howdy, John Wayne. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” I told him, grabbing the still half-full glass to take a sip.

“John Wayne,” The stranger questioned me in shock, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you prefer Eastwood,” I retorted, placing my glass back on the bar top.

I heard the aviator let out a noise that was a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle before he spoke up again.

“Well, that just hurts my feelings, sweetheart. It’s not every day I get made fun of for my accent,” He said in amusement.

“Well, I’m glad I could bring some excitement to your day,” I smiled at him sarcastically.

I heard a huff of amusement. “You know what would make it even more exciting.”

“No, but I feel like you’re going to tell me anyways, cowboy,” I said with disinterest.

“Your number.”

I scoffed in disbelief and began shaking my head with a grin. “Trust me, my number is the last thing you want buddy.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that,” He asked me curiously, leaning in closer to me.

“Because my reputation isn’t exactly the best right now… If you knew who I was you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me, I promise you that. So do yourself a favor and find someone else to court like the small-town country boy you are,” I informed him, pushing my sunglasses farther up my nose.

“Well, maybe you can give me a chance and I can prove you wrong,” He argued with me.

“Doubtful,” I muttered, taking a large gulp of my drink.

“Why don’t we start with a name? If you're so famous like you're making yourself out to be. Then I can tell you if I’ve heard anything and if I believe what I’ve heard,” He offered up.

“I am most definitely not giving you my name,” I denied immediately, shaking my head.

“Well, then how about you take off the sunglasses and the hat Hollywood? Then I can tell you if you look familiar,” He tried again.

“I am not doing that either,” I said with another shake of the head.

“You enjoy playing hard to get don’t you,” He asked me with a smirk.

“It’s not playing hard to get if there’s nothing to win,” I told him.

He stared at me in silence, causing me to look over at him. I could see a few different emotions swirling in his eyes. Admiration, desire, amusement, and what looked like affection.

“I’m Jake,” He said simply.

I stared at him for a second and nodded in response. “Cool.”

This Jake person opened his mouth to speak again before being cut off.

“Is Hangman bothering you, PJ,” Jimmy asked me sweetly, looking between the two of us.

“No, Jimmy. It’s fine,” I reassured the old man.

“Are you sure? Because I have no problem ringing the bell on him,” Jimmy told me, gesturing over his shoulder to my aunt's bell.

“As funny as that would be and as much as I would enjoy that, it’s not necessary,” I reassured him once again, picking my drink up and finishing it off.

Jimmy nodded at me and grabbed my now empty glass before walking away, but not without throwing a warning glare over his shoulder at this so-called “hangman.”

“So, now you know my name and my callsign. Are you still not willing to give yours up miss “PJ,” Jake questioned me.

“No, Hangman, I’m not,” I shrugged at him, beginning to stand from my barstool. “Hey Jimmy, Let Penny know I’m headed home,” I asked the old man, watching him nod at me before going about his work again.

“So you know Penny,” He asked me.

“Wow, nice deduction there Mr. Eastwood. That navy training is really doing you some good,” I said sarcastically, turning to head out the door.

“I’ll get your name eventually,” He called after me.

“Don’t bet on it, Lieutenant.”

---------

I groaned in pain at the sudden weight being thrown on top of me, a bright giggle slipping out of the person’s lips. I wrestled my hands out from underneath them and lifted them to grab the comforter covering my head. I pulled it down to see Amelia lying across me with her dog Theo running into the room and joining us in the bed.

“Amelia, why,” I groaned.

“Because mom told me to wake you up. She needs you to do something for her,” Amelia told me before hopping off the bed to leave the room, Theo following closely behind her.

I groaned tiredly before throwing my blanket off of me. I leaned over the side of the bed and gripped my sleep shorts that I had taken off before bed. I pulled them on before doing my morning routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face. I then ran a brush through my hair and pulled it up into a bun before making my way downstairs. I followed the noises I heard into the kitchen to see Aunt Penny running around trying to make breakfast for Amelia as my little cousin tried to finish up her homework at the last minute. I walked over to Amelia kissed her head and gave Theo a pat on the head, before taking a seat on the other barstool at the island.

“Morning,” I sighed out to Aunt Penny.

“Good morning. I have a few errands I need to do this morning. Is there any chance you can take Amelia to school and then go to the Hard Deck to get some of the opening duties done for me,” Aunt Penny asked me quickly, placing Amelia’s breakfast on top of her homework and causing the young girl to let out a groan of annoyance.

“Yeah, sure,” I nodded at her.

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be long and should be there at around 10. And Amelia knows the drop-off procedures,” She reassured me.

“Penny, it’s fine. I know what to do and I will get Amelia to school on time,” I reassured her.

“Thank you,” she told me once again before gathering her things.

She walked around the island to place a kiss on Amelia’s head and one on my cheek before moving towards the door.

“I love you girls,” She called over her shoulder.

“Love you too,” We both called out to her.

---------

After an anxiety-ridden school drop-off and halfway through getting the bar ready for opening, Penny showed up with a thankful smile.

“Thank you,” She told me, pulling me into a hug.

“You’re welcome. I mopped, did stock, and washed the glasses. They just need to be dried and all of your paperwork needs to be done,” I explained to her, gesturing to all of the glasses sitting in drying racks.

“You are a lifesaver. How was drop off,” She asked me.

“Well, um, I have been through quite a few anxiety-inducing events in my life, but I think drop-off was the worst one to date,” I informed her with a grimace.

Penny winced at my words and nodded in agreement. “It can be bad.”

I nodded at her in agreement before moving to sit on the piano bench, my back facing the instrument to curb the need to play it. Penny looked between me and the instrument before speaking.

“Why don’t you play something while I finish up? I could use the entertainment,” She offered up, grabbing a rag to begin drying the glasses.

“No thank you,” I sighed, running my hands over my thighs to rid them of some of the sweat they built up.

“Presley, you can’t just give up music. I haven’t heard you so much as hum a note since you came home. And you've been here about two weeks now,” Penny scolded, placing her hands on her hips. “I used to have to pry you away from that piano. You couldn't stop writing and playing. You constantly had something new-”

“I’m not giving up music… and did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm just uninspired,” I interrupted her, looking at her sadly.

Penny frowned before placing her rag on the counter and leaning forward. “You're uninspired right now, but not forever. Something will bring your light back, I know it. For right now, how about you play some of your old stuff?”

I stared at her for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Fine. But I'm not singing. I'm just playing the piano.”

“That's fine with me,” She reassured me as I turned around and placed my hands on the black and white keys.

I began playing one of my songs gently and let myself get lost in the music. Meanwhile, Penny continued working behind me to prepare the bar for opening in a couple of hours. My one song turned into two, which turned into three. However, my playing stopped when I heard the front door open. I tensed up in my seat and looked over at Penny out of the corner of my eye. Penny dropped everything she was doing and immediately turned towards the person who entered the bar.

“Hangman, we don’t open for another few hours,” Penny called out to the person who walked further into the bar.

“It’s Friday, Penny. Dogfight football day. Just stopped in to get some beers for everybody before heading down to the beach,” Jake argued with her, walking over to the bar.

I could feel his eyes on me as he conversed with my aunt, causing me to turn my head slightly so he couldn’t see my face.

“Well, why don’t you head outside and I can bring them out to you,” Penny offered up.

“Nah, Pen, it’s fine. I don’t want to take up any more of your time than I need to,” Jake denied her. I listen to Penny let out a sigh before moving around the bar and gathering what he asked for. “I know that song you were playing, darling. I believe it’s called Enchanted by-,” He cut himself off when I finally looked over at him.

“Presley Jo, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Eastwood,” I stated, holding my hand out to him with a blank expression on my face.

“PJ,” He hummed, gripping my hand in his own with obvious shock on his face.

“Hm, I normally just go by Presley,” I hummed out with a shrug, staring up at him.

“Mhm, Penny my dear, do you understand who is sitting in your bar right now,” Jake said in disbelief.

“Of course I do. I raised her,” Penny shrugged at him simply.

Jake turned around and looked at her in shock. “You raised one of the biggest pop stars on the face of the earth and didn’t tell anyone?”

“It’s not exactly something I go telling everybody, Hangman, no matter how proud I am of my beautiful niece. Besides, Bradshaw and Maverick know.”

“Rooster knows? Maverick I understand, but Rooster,” He asked in disbelief.

“Bradley and I grew up together. Who do you think taught me piano,” I interrupted, drawing his eyes back towards me. Jake continued to stare at me in shock and awe, causing me to slightly squirm under his gaze. “So, you going to go tell everybody I’m here? Sell a story to the media?”

Jake shook his head at me before releasing a scoff. “Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s what everyone else does,” I shrugged, fiddling with the hem of my shirt.

“Well, Darling, I guess I’m not everyone else then,” He shrugged at me.

I looked at him in shock before speaking again. “You still want my number?”

“Hm… that, and I’d still like to buy you that drink,” He shrugged at me.

I looked at him in shock and disbelief before shaking my head at him. “You still want something to do with me after finding out who I am? Even with everything being said about me and me being canceled?”

Jake shrugged at me before stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Not all your fans believe what’s being said about you.”

My gaze softened and I couldn’t stop myself from staring into his bright green eyes. He held my gaze for a few moments before Penny cleared her throat.

“Hangman, your beers,” She said, pushing them all towards the aviator.

He removed his gaze from me to turn towards my aunt and gave her a thankful smile. He told her to keep a tab open before turning back towards me. He gave me a wink before moving towards the back door of the bar to go to the beach. I watched him walk away and out the door before removing my gaze from him and looking back at my aunt. She raised her eyebrows at me in amusement before crossing her arms over her chest.

“You gonna tell me what the hell that was?”

111 notes · View notes

thewertsearch · 10 months

Text

TG: i will be your server TG: and past me will stay as roses server TG: which is to say present me will TG: the one in the black suit GG: ohh… GG: i guess that makes sense TG: he can keep managing her for a while TG: until she sorta checks out soon and becomes totally useless

Rose is already detached from the party, following unseen orders in service of an unseen plan - but according to Dave, she's going to get worse.

This, I assume, is the point at which she becomes obscured from Kanaya's viewport. Rose is going to keep digging this hole, right up until she reaches some critical point on her timeline - and then, if I'm reading correctly between the lines, she's going to fall apart.

Final alchemy session, let's go!

Hey, calm down! Just because it's snowing outside doesn't mean it's Christmas just yet.

We're certainly getting close...

STEP OFF. … You decide he can keep the SORD….. though.

Abandoning your best weapon? A poor tactical decision by the Knight.

TT: Did you do anything on the moon besides rifle through my belongings? TT: Such as remove your shades and turn your gaze Ringward, by any chance? [...] TG: i did TT: What did you see? TG: horrible things [...] TG: when i saw them TG: their voices became clearer TT: What were they saying? TG: i couldnt really focus on anything specific TG: but TG: in totality TG: im pretty sure it was TG: like TT: ? TG: a plea for help

That's a little vague - but then again, they may be so alien to us that they're not able to communicate more clearly. This might be the closest thing to a human-readable message that the Gods can create.

This is probably a good place to put my transcription of the Squiddle song from Jade's nap. Much of it is unintelligible, but the parts we can hear are rather illuminating.

Squiddles are no ordinary friends, they work, and play, and work again. But they have homes, and mommies too; yes, they have mommies just like you.

Firstly, the Squiddles try to explain that they're not completely different from us. They're extraordinary creatures, practically incomprehensible to the Players - and yet, they have a home. They have loved ones. They play.

They repeat this assertion twice, as though they desperately want the Players to understand this.

So let them go to bed right now, so they can rest, and make cute sounds. If they can't rest they won't be strong …and they are really tiny.

They go on to say that they're exhausted. They need to rest, but something is keeping them busy. As a result, they're becoming 'tiny' and weak.

They can't make the 'cute sounds' that they're known for, which I suspect is a metaphor for the advice they normally dispense to Derse Dreamers, but I'm less sure about that.

[Unintelligible] …so let them sleep... …cause they will die if…

At this point, the music begins to fade out - but not before we hear that the Squiddles' lives are in danger. Something out in the depths of space is killing the Noble Circle of Horrorterrors.

Squiddle dee dee, squiddle dee dum. Everyone sing, a Squiddley song. Let's all be friends, And work as a team. Squiddles for you, Squiddles for me.

The final verse is self-explanatory.

It's unclear what, exactly, is happening out in the Furthest Ring, but it's dire enough that the Horrorterrors are reaching out to their neighbors, the Players of Sburb, and asking them to form an alliance.

We're seeing that alliance through Feferi, who has convinced them to blow the Dream Bubbles and link the two sessions. We're also seeing it through Rose, the only human Player willing to listen to the Squiddles' song - but her situation is more murky. I do think I understand her mental state a little better, though.

Rose is acting on Horrorterror advice - which means she's acting on whispers, corrupted images and half-heard fragments of a song. I don't think the Gods are manipulating her so much as they're playing a game of Telephone with her brain. They can't relay direct instructions, so the best they can do is transmit the vibe of what needs to happen, and the Seer has to figure the rest out for herself.

No wonder she's so evasive about her plan - I don't think she understands more than a quarter of it. She isn't nearly as in-control of the situation as she's pretending to be, and if she admits as much to John, she'd probably lose her nerve.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s89 #3030

178 notes · View notes

wordsinhaled · 1 year

Text

~*~*~ more dreamling domestic vacation ~*~*~

(not described but feels relevant to mention: the fact that morpheus left his coat hanging in hob's closet when he left... so this morning he pulled his clothes from the dream of some goth and hob gets to experience his friend in a siouxsie t-shirt and distressed jeans and boots with about fifty buckles. hob is like, i don't know what happened but i'm glad i introduced you to disintegration.)

“You’re back,” is the first thing Hob says when he opens the door and finds Morpheus there.

Morpheus does not explain himself to anyone, but he feels the sudden urge to explain himself now. Hob Gadling’s surprise is plain on his face. He had not been expected.

“I am,” he says.

“It’s been less than a day,” Hob says, wondering. Happiness breaks over his features as dawn edges over a horizon, slow and radiant.

The reasons for his presence crowd on Morpheus’ tongue—I am still unused to so many dreamers, and your home is so blessedly quiet, and No bed I could craft in my realm would be as comfortable as yours, and—

“I may have… noted your absence,” Morpheus admits.

Hob’s eyes are bright. There is no reproach in them, though Morpheus had indeed left him not more than a day ago; no sense that he is put-upon by Morpheus’ swift and unannounced return. There is only… awe, Morpheus thinks, however tentative. Hob is looking at him the way one looks at a wounded animal they have lured close with a scrap of food held in the palm of an outstretched hand—as if thrilled the ploy has worked, as if any sudden moment will undo the miraculous progress of trust.

Morpheus is uncertain how he feels about being looked upon this way. He is no animal; but the heart housed in this fickle waking body feels like an animal’s heart, skips and stutters over its beats at the sight of Hob Gadling leaning on the doorframe in his pyjamas with a half-eaten slice of toast still pinched between his fingers. There are crumbs on the front of Hob’s shirt and his feet are bare, toes curling into the welcome mat. His shape speaks of the very softness, the very comfort Morpheus had so felt the loss of as to make twenty hours alone in his own realm an agony.

There is no ploy here; only the unfurling of the warm smile Morpheus has learned, over the last fortnight, that he can draw from Hob seemingly at random, and with shocking ease. Today, the sentiment tucked in the curve of his lips looks so clearly like relief that Morpheus can almost feel at ease about imposing.

Come back any time, he’d said. Any time you like. Any time you need. Any hour. My home is your home.

There was, perhaps, never any need for Morpheus to worry. Perhaps.

“Come in,” Hob says, “please.”

He steps aside to make space for him, and as Morpheus crosses the threshold, he feels the tension already beginning to slip from his shoulders.

#the sandman #dreamling #dreamling domestic vacation #hob trying not to kiss him hello like... it's the hardest thing in the world

621 notes · View notes

ginoeh · 3 months

Note

Dream’s Coat (TM), pretty please??

@chaosheadspace asked for the same! Here you go, lovelies...

This is probably not what you think it is. Or, idk, maybe it's exactly what you think it is? Because both of you know that I'm actually a little dark angst writer at heart lol.

Okay, so this started a long time ago (read: in March last year) in a wild and hilarious brainstorming session that I saved the transcript of. So far, this is more of an intriguing concept to make Hob suffer and Dream repent - eventually at least. I haven't touched it in a while; I'd have to really dig into Dream's fucking ugly side - the 10000 years in hell side - to get this going.

It all started with a 'what-if' variation of @messmonte 's Saddest Wank (1889 instead of 1989!) because in that drawing, Dream didn't just leave his gloves, he also left his Cloak. Here, this has pretty severe consequences. In SoM, the story gets told of how Dream takes Nada into the Cloak where they have sex unbothered by anyone's gaze. So there we have a ‘magical cloak’ with space-time special features…

~~~

Now here is Hob, in 1889, drunk and sad and wearing Dream's gloves to get himself off in a seedy room above the White Horse. He took the garments his Stranger left behind in a mixture of spite and pathetic hope that he might come back for them. He doesn't, of course.

(Snippets and more details under the cut)

(Hob doesn't know that Jessamy *has* actually come back to get them and gets to witness what is going on. This, as well, has consequences)

After, he rolls over onto the cloak he has been gripping, disgusted with himself but still unable to let go of the pathetic need to be close to the Stranger. But instead of falling asleep, he falls into the star-studded folds of the cloak.

And falls and falls and falls.

He barely manages to keep a grip on the strangely wispy fabric. It's what saves him, at first. Because Hob has just managed to accidentally yeet himself into outer space. The cloak is the only thing that's keeping him whole and sustained as a living being, as it were.

(Jessamy is unfortunate bystander to this. She takes off to the Dreaming immediately and informs Dream of his ‘acquaintance's’ mishap. She's worried - she actually likes Hob and knows that Dream does so, as well. Dream though, is still furious.

“Let him enjoy this new experience then”, he says and Jessamy recognizes the stubborn curl to her Lord's mouth. “May he experience the meaning of true loneliness for a while.”

Jessamy rather thinks that Lord Morpheus is really tipping his hand there about *who* had it right at their meeting but she'd never dare to point that out.

She has a really really bad feeling about what this might mean for Hob Gadling, though. Since her Lord is so intent on forgetting that the immortal is, above all else, human and as such not made to sustain himself outside of his own world.

And besides, he is a Dreamer. Lord Morpheus will surely reconsider soon and bring him back.

But as time passes, he does not.

Hob Gadling is not one of Dream's priorities, after all. In the face of the Universe nearly unravelling, the Corinthian's disobediance and its fallout, Hob Gadling gets forgotten for the better part of a century.)

On the other end of the universe, Hob's life is an unending and undying nightmare. He is neither starving, freezing nor suffocating - not that he knows that he should do the last two - but there is nothing around him but the vastness of space. No sound, no smell, no touch but that of the cloak around his shoulders. He is truly alone for the first time in his existence.

Until, suddenly, he isn't.

“Oh my what do we have here,” a voice resounds inside his head. His perception slides sideways, something breaks somewhere in his mind and then there is the form of a voluptuous, incandescently beautiful woman that takes over everything around him.

“A human - here! Covered in my Dream's regard!”

She stretches a hand towards him and Hob thinks that space has decided to cease existing. Maybe he's going mad.

“If I keep you, do you think my son will visit?”

***

Dream does, of course, remember Hob eventually. The horror that rises in Dream, still caught in Burgess’ basement, over what he has allowed a Dreamer to suffer for his own mistake, is as dark and deep and cold as the black hole he has once been cast into.

After he escapes and has gathered his tools, he searches out his sister.

“Hob Gadling? No, he hasn't asked for me.”

She falls silent for a moment before leveling a longsuffering and suspicious look at him.

“Is there a particular reason you're asking me this?”

Dream closes his eyes and shreds the rest of the mauled baguette between his fingers.

“He may have. Fallen though an actualized piece of my power. Into space. And I may have been. Too angry to care. At the time.”

There is the rustle of clothes and he feels Death kneeling before him. Her voice, when she speaks, is very soft and very serious.

“Dream? When, exactly, has this happened.”

He opens his eyes.

“Hob Gadling has suffered my wrath since 1889, sister. I hurt a Dreamer, unprovoked.”

“Oh, Dream.”

He cannot bear the horrified pity on his sister's face.

“How shall I -” His words fail him.

“Go and get him back, Dream. Now. Hob Gadling hasn't called for me - yet. If that will help you, though, I don't know.”

~~~

Or: A pathetic wank and Dream's canonically bad decision making skills meets the 'meeting the parents trope' but make it eldritch horror. Then add a magical healing journey afterwards an voilá - you get this.

Yeah I can still make this Dreamling despite their horrifically bad start. Watch me lol.

#dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling #the sandman fanfiction #death of the endless #ginoeh writes #wip tag game #edit: forgot to @ messmonte who's art started this whole thing lol

62 notes · View notes

wordswithloveee · 11 days

Text

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will live as one...

34 notes · View notes

beesfairlyland · 6 months

Note

Hey, I can't follow any routines these, feeling down and I want to manifest in void , I know I'm the creator but still I don't know what is stopping me

Hey!!💗

Who said you too follow those complicated routines huh!!?

If you feeling low ask yourself why you feeling soo? Do one thing sit in peace and write your limiting beliefs....why are you feeling low? Is it that you think you can't enter void? Or is it that you think void ain't easy for you? Or you think void is not real?

One of the main reason ppl can't enter is(this happened with me too) they think void is too good to be true. They do beleive that void is real they know that they can enter it too...but it sounds too good to be true that you think that you won't enter this day...and you try again the next day...again your stoopid mind says you won't enter this day. Better luck next time!!

Idk know what your reason is to feel low. But may be this is gonna help. Soo you wrote down what you feel now read every point again and have a nice self talk why you feel this way? Does god/higher self doubt their powers? Get ans to all those questions if not all but atleast try to ans most of them. Only you can know what's stopping you! If you wanna do some simple routine here's a simple but effective routine by @charmedreincarnation

And another one by @dolli-is-me (she's soo sweet and cute🫶🏻)

Work on your self concept hun!!💗 Ik it's not necessary but imo it's soo important to get everything off the pedestal and put ourselves on the pedestal. Read this post to know how can you start working on your self concept.

Hope i helped you a little bit!!

-love,bee🫶🏻💗

#loassumption #self concept #void state #affirm and persist #law of assumption #master manifestor #void challenge #void success #manifestation challenge

57 notes · View notes

cerastes · 1 month

Note

You enjoy Tekken a lot, is there any reason you don't stream your Ranked games? Asking out of genuine curiosity.

The first half of the answer is that I play Ranked in short bursts. I'll do 3-5 opponents (rematch or not) and then hit Practice Mode or do something else. I don't really do these long Ranked grind sessions. I think they are detrimental to me. It's how I enjoy the game. I can go for hours if I'm playing a friend, but for Ranked, I enter a different head space, and I really don't feel like entertaining a crowd (chat) or interacting with others while I'm playing Ranked because I play seriously there. I like focusing and playing my heart out without feeling the need or want to talk to anyone at all.

Which leads to the other half of the answer: Competitive/Ranked Fighting Game Dreamer.

If you've been to my streams and if I may say so myself, I can laugh at myself just fine. I don't take being blasted by chat bad, in fact, I go along with it. I died to gravity in Soulsborne after first try beating a notoriously difficult boss? Yeah, that's funny. I hype up a cool trick I wanna do and then fuck it up? Yeah, mockery is the natural result. I'm a good sport about these things, and like to use them as springboards for either an immediate laugh or for the next bit. I'm like that with all games and activities in general.

Except fighting games if I'm at the arcade or in a competitive/ranked setting.

Ranked Dreamer has something to prove, basically, because Ranked Dreamer enjoys and respects competitive/ranked gaming, and the thrill and learning that comes with it. Ranked Dreamer is not really about what I previously mentioned. It's not that I go Mr. Hyde or anything and rage; I have a lot of fun and I'm in a good mood the vast majority of the time! But Ranked Dreamer is raised-in-the-arcade-scene Dreamer, that expects people that cast any sort of judgement to know what they are talking about or shut the hell up, and the vast majority of my usual chat doesn't play or watch fighting games. I did a bit of Ranked on stream after my sets with LC when we played, and when I was downloading an opponent (and thus, getting hit a lot) after beating them and rematching, someone said something to the effect of "well now he's getting his ass kicked wwwwwww", which made me immediately want to say "don't you know anything, you reprobate, shut up", which... Is no way to treat anyone! In the moment, it's a natural thing to say, because that's just how it is when people that take something seriously (not even in a pro way, just seriously) will want to say to someone that's obviously a tourist that doesn't know anything about the scene if they start having opinions... But you think about it rationally after the fact, and it's like... No, dude, even then, don't mistreat people, lmao.

So basically, I don't want to mistreat people in the heat of the moment and regret insulting someone who was just having fun in chat and treating it as if it was another one of my mishaps. It's literally a me thing.

A lot of my good Tekken matches (that being matches I feel like I learned something or enjoyed) look like this:

youtube

Spoiler alert, but I get ragdolled the first two rounds badly. And that's because I don't know the King-Lili match-up. When you face a match-up you don't know, you have two options: Try and throw your flowcharts and strings and hope it works, OR you can try and download the opponent. You see what works, what doesn't, their habits, and their behavior in offense and defense. You experiment, and test. This involves a lot of getting hit and losing health or even rounds. But you learn a lot more and it helps you grow as a player, it's better in the long run. After those first two rounds, I gather this:

They duck on reaction when I approach -> To deal with King's dangerous grab game -> Use mids to beat crouch.

They literally only flowchart -> They always use the low after the cartwheel -> Launch it with hop kick (well, knee in King's case).

They are impulsive and will want their turn back -> Their wake-up game is aggressive -> oki with d,b3 counter into Leg Lock or backstep/properly spaced d,b3 counter into Leg Lock, depending on frame advantage and distance from downed Lili after knockdown.

It's Lili -> They'll start using Funny Shit on round start -> backstep, deal with it, punish it.

They are bad at breaking Figure Four Leg Lock -> Keep using Figure Four Leg Lock, it works.

And then I start absolutely booty blasting Lili. That's what downloading is! But non-fighting game players don't know that, so they'll see me get blasted (while I'm trying to learn) or rematching an opponent I lost to and then lose again (to learn the match-up more) and start making those comments that, while they'd usually either get a joke on retaliation or simply get ignored if they are not funny enough, will make Ranked Dreamer want to tell them to shut up and reflect on how ignorant they are if they can't even tell that I'm trying to download/learn here, obviously, are your eyes closed or are you just clinically unfunny and one of those "I just like spreading chaos lol" types. Which will then be something I regret because I feel bad when I actually insult people, especially over games.

So, it's just a me thing, but here it is explained in case you wanted a bit more elaboration.

#dreamerwave

31 notes · View notes