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starfacedstudio · 7 months

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Image ID: A logo featuring a round, grinning, crow-like character with leaves for its tail holding a green pencil. Curved text at the top reads "Crowberry Comic Connection." The crow is surrounded by a purple and blue rope, tied with berries and leaves, and there are two branches of berries to either side. Beneath this, the Discord logo appears next to text reading "Community Discord Server!" End ID.

We did a bit of teasing about this before, but @doedreamiing and I are excited to announce our opening for Crowberry Comic Connection - a community Discord server!

Created as a casual meeting place for artists and their communities alike, we hope to inspire a positive and productive environment to chat and chill with fellow artists, post your work, get helpful feedback, and have fun with participating in our challenges and server-wide events. Though our primary focus is on comics, we welcome artists (both visual and literary!) of all sorts to our server! You must be 18+ to join.

As was shared last week, we're opening our server with a small prompt list event in spirit of October! Check the post here, or check it out in the server itself :) Joining is NOT required to participate.

OUR SERVER OFFERS:

Places to chat, share memes (and pets, food, or that cool rock you found on your walk), share commission info, and (for comic folks) a place to link your latest comic updates!

Critique Forum: ask for constructive criticism or advice, or give advice or constructive criticism to others!

Challenges: a forum dedicated to user-created challenges (limited palette, timed, prompts, culinary??) that others may participate in!

User-Submitted Art Resource Forum (categorized with tags!)

Colored names, selectable roles, and custom emotes

Low number of channels to hopefully not overwhelm. Channel lists can be customized and things can be hidden as you see fit!

Voice channel + no-mic channel for folks who don't have mics or don't wish to speak!

More Events! (We hope to possibly host things like critique sessions, art jams, zines, or similar in the future)

More to come!

Image ID: Banner of 8 multicolored crowberry creatures on a rope. End ID.

WHY WAS THIS CREATED?

Community among artists is something very important to both of us, as people who grew up with places such as deviantART (rip) and it is something we (and many, many others) have been struggling to find as social media continues to point its focus away from artists (as well as the over-emphasis on professional portfolio socials). As our name suggests, we wish to help foster those connections between fellow creators and their communities once again!

Though perhaps not an ideal solution as Discord certainly has its own problems, we wanted to try and create a safe, accessible space for people to come together in this way. We both sincerely miss the sense of community that once was among artists.

Information on how to join can be found under the cut.

HOW TO JOIN:

Our server is a community server that uses the Onboarding feature, meaning you will be brought to a bit of a different screen than normal Discord servers may have. You must read and accept our rules as you join.

You will also be asked questions such as your interests or occupations, your pronouns, and your preferences on receiving DMs, pings, or having tone tags used for you (and the color of your name)!

Additionally, there will be a few tasks to complete:

Introduce yourself!

Say hi in general :)

Familiarize yourself with our rules and guidelines!

Check our filter guide for info on what is allowed with a filter.

OUR RULES:

You must be 18+ to join.

We do not allow pornography or extreme gore, but certain mature subjects are allowed with a filter.

Be respectful and kind towards one another. Harassment, bigotry, and bullying are not tolerated.

We do not allow proshippers, TERFs, zoophiles, or pedophiles.

We do not allow venting, spamming, AI images or NFTs (use, creation of, advertisement, etc.)

Asking for money directly though Paypal, Venmo, Cashapp, etc. is not allowed for privacy reasons. Links to fundraisers are fine.

Flashing images (gifs, emotes, stickers, etc.) must be censored, or avoided altogether.

Leetspeak and censoring words with numbers/symbols should be avoided in the server. Use Discord's censoring instead.

Check our full rules channel, and any pinned messages for specific rule information.

JOIN LINK: https://discord.gg/HGJh2cFwSh

We hope you decide to check us out. Stay connected, friends!

#froxposting #crowberry comic connection #described #discord #discord server #comics #webcomics #cannot understate how excited i am for this YIPPEEEE we've been planning something like this for quite a while #again while we're focused on comics - any artist (visual. literary. auditory??) is welcome to join!!! we love interdisciplinary overlap her #clawing at the floor. chewing on the curtains. looking forward to hopefully seeing people there!!!#tumblr ate this post At Least Twice while i was drafting it but. we stay sillyyyy

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lurkingteapot · 9 months

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bad buddy fandom getting-to-know-you meme!

tagged by @mahuhumaling and @galauvant, meme created by @fiercynn

note: i consider "fanworks" to pretty much everything people create related to a fandom, including but not limited to meta/analysis/discussion, gifs, fanvids/edits/fancams, filk, fanart, fanfic, fan food, fan crafts, etc. please include this note with the meme unless you have a different definition!

name and whatever you want to share about yourself I'm tpt! 30s, queer, brainweird, language nerd, been reading BL and slash and other queer lit since before the turn of the millennium and probably (hopefully) never gonna stop.

when did you watch bad buddy/join the fandom? I watched the first episode the day after it aired. Went in knowing nothing about it except the English title, which I thought was thoroughly unappealing, and the promo image. Came out of ep 1 convinced Paa was the only person with any sense on the entire show, but sufficiently intrigued (ointment sharing! Line ID shenanigans!) to keep watching. So I watched as it aired from ep 2, and when the bus stop scene rolled around, I blocked the airing time slot out in my calendar so I could watch live (which didn't work out for ALL eps, but … close enough). I did find a regular group to squee with after ep 5, but didn't really interact with fandom beyond that little bit of squeeing with friends and looking at fan art until after ep 9, I think. This was the first Thai BL show I watched week to week, and that also made it special to me.

favorite ship(s) Pat/Pran.

favorite character(s) Used to be Pran no contest, but Pat worked his way into my heart in the later episodes. couldn't choose now. they're all favourites.

favorite episode(s) I really love episodes 3-5 and 10/11. but honestly I love the show as a whole, and the episodes in the context they exist in. Except for the gun subplot.

favorite scene(s) the opening sequence of ep 2! also episode 3 bus stop scene (and Pat's way of accomodating Pran in it), ep 4 sleepover scene, ep 5 Pat's realisation/the fight, ep 6 gate convo scene, ep 8 fight/apology scene, ep 9 hand-holding scene, ep 10 Our Song teaser scene and confrontation scenes, ep 11 affirmation/we got to go back scene and wishful thinking sequence, ep 12 bar scene.

one thing you would change about the show if you could I'd adjust the pacing of ep 12 so the fake-out is a smaller part of the whole thing proportionally.

what are your some of your favorite fanworks made by other people? It's really hard to pick. I love SO MANY. Even just the authors whose fic I list here have written more than one of my faves each. but let's see:

fic (missing scene): keeps me warm by unsungyellowraincoat (@isaksbestpillow). direct ep 8 aftermath exploration that made me ache.

fic (canon divergence): fight or flight (worth the wait) by jabber_moose (@galauvant). Ep 2 canon divergence wherein Pran is discovered under Pat's bed.

fic (AU): Pinocchio by aworkingprinter (@miscellar). In which Pran has an obvious, unsuppressable tell when he lies.

fan animation: international love song by @architectxengineer

fan art: this pic by @ thatgothsamurai was one of the first things I saw in this fandom in the way of art and it's stuck with me

(if you create fanworks) what are your favorite fanworks that you’ve made?

fic: the only truth that sticks (<5k, G) is my take on Pran's mother's backstory, told as vignettes from her school years. There's a lot I'd do differently if I wrote it now – not give her a nickname, for one – but it's nevertheless my baby; when I started it, I hadn't finished and posted any fic in over 20 years.

I had a collection of random language- and storytelling related observations about the show on twitter that I should probably copy over somewhere else at some point for preservation purposes.

there's an epic canon divergence that lives only in my friend's and my DMs and a back-up doc that I'm starting to think will never take full shape, but I love it anyway. There's also an escalating intimacy thing set vaguely pre-canon plus ep 7 to time skip that I've not added to in a year and probably won't finish, either, but again: love what I've got there.

a song that makes you think of bbs (the ones in the show don’t count lol) If it's a bittersweet love song I'm PatPraning it. But specifically: Tilly Birds' เพื่อนเล่น ไม่เล่นเพื่อน (Just Being Friendly) and pretty much the entire tracklist from the ON Thailand fanmeet, especially แดงกับเขียว (Red and Green) by TaitosmitH, แน่ใจไหม (Are You Sure) by Nont Tanont, อย่าใกล้กันเลย (We shouldn't be close) in Aof Pongsak's version, and ดวงเดือน (Moon) by Joey Phuwasit.

idk anything else you want us to know? I love this show. I love the hopeful ending. I love all the recurring characters (yes, that includes Wai and the parents), with all their flaws. I love how gently P'Aof tells this story – the way he approaches entrenched BL clichés, picks them up, examines them, and puts them back down: does it have to go this way? not for us, not for this story, let's look at how else this could go. He said he wanted to make a typical, an ordinary BL, and he did, and he didn't.

I love that I met so many nice people through our mutual love of this show. I love that we're still on the rooftop nearly two years later.

I love that there's so many sides of this fandom – analytical, transformative, curative, and everything in between.

I have completely lost track of who has and hasn't done this yet, but IF you see this and think, hey, this seems fun! and decide to do it, please tag?

#bad buddy fandom meme #meme #get to know meme #my nonsense #bad buddy series

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conarcoin · 1 year

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you know what? fuck it. i will be a dick. dresuma is fucking disqualified all because some prick who hasnt been in my spot, me whos been sitting here for hours checking my notes over and over just to see who i need to block because theyre clowning, they told me 'its just a silly tumblr poll and its hilarious that youre getting mad about a ship that you included'

this tournament has been a big thing on my mind for OVER A MONTH STRAIGHT, ive gone through MANY emotions because of it lately and ive been trying to be nice and fun but honestly? people can be really fucking annoying on this website, actually!

that ship was included because i was being lenient and nice and thought it was fun even though i didnt think those characters actually interacted once considering i had to genuinely edit two very different quality images together just for their ship image. yknow what criteria i had for letting ships in? 1. they didnt date or marry in canon! 2. they werent a minor/major! and 3. no incest! anyone else was fine! sure, a lot of them maybe didnt fit the definition of why i made this tournament but i thought i had a pretty clear idea from the start what ships would make it to the finale anyway, and all of them did fit the definition!

i didnt think people could misinterpret things as bizarrely as they did. i didnt think people could be so. annoying. i didnt think id get more than a couple thousand notes tops, not OVER 10K NOTES AND COUNTING. im NOT used to this stuff, considering that ive said many a time that my main blog has like 250 or so followers, and my main blogs notes are like, 20 a day tops!

and no offense to this person they seem lovely, i didnt think id be fucked over by, of all things, someone whos worked on a minecraft smp, and not only that but one that ive enjoyed before! again they seem lovely and i hold nothing against them for just having fun, but man, this is a weird situation man!

i deleted the poll. it doesnt delete the reblogs and i doubt it does anything to the poll itself, but hopefully it gives me no more notifications about it.

i will be hosting a different finale. if i hear any bs about this, youre getting blocked. im sick of this. i was naive and hopeful and lighthearted when this started and at this point i just want this to end.

please just grant me the luxury of just letting it end in a chill way.

#COPYPASTA. btw

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fixing-syscourse-posts · 9 months

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Where Syscourse Gets Fixed

Welcome to Fixing-Syscourse-Posts. I'm your host, FSP. Can I get you anything to drink, eat, etc etc? Anyways.

This blog is dedicated to making some humor out of syscourse posts via blackout poetry. I used to really despise these sorts of blogs, because all of them seemed to be trying to make actual points or arguments out of other peoples posts. I wanted to try something different -- I wanted to make people laugh, regardless of stance, because this shit sucks.

I do have an actual syscourse blog, but I don't do actual syscourse here. This blog is dedicated to making fun of it so I can laugh off the ridiculous shit, and hopefully providing everyone else with some humor as well.

Below the cut is more in depth info about me, the blog, and my views. If you want a TL;DR:

I don't syscourse here at all often We color code the posts based on who is fronting We use it/its but they/them works

We have the following tagging system at the moment:

#[insert a color here] -- A specific part made this post, and it correlates to the color of the blackout poetry. (Current colors include Green, Dark Red, Purple, Yellow, Lilac, Mint, White, and Blue). #it speaks -- Any post where I wrote stuff beyond an image ID under the blackout poetry. #fixing syscourse posts -- Any post that features a blackout poem. #not fixed -- Any post that doesn't feature a blackout poem. #NSFTumblr -- Any post that I feel tumblr (or, perhaps, the workplace) would feel is... unsafe to view. #Negative or #Positive -- Posts that I feel are more overwhelmingly positive or negative compared to others. #It Syscourses -- On the (very rare) occasion that I post syscourse to this blog, you can use this tag to block it

VIEWS:

I don't syscourse here if I can avoid it. I'm a person with DID myself, doing my best, and working on healing in my own ways. My views aren't relevant to this blog, and I'm not going to be sharing them; if that bothers you, the block button is there.

This all being said: I don't actually disagree with all of the posts I use for these blackout posts. I agree with some of them! I just also think it's funny to edit them to say funny things.

WHO ARE YOU:

Very beautiful. Very powerful. Queer as hell and living loud about it. I use it/its pronouns, but they/them is absolutely fine for me as well if you have problems using it/its. I'm an adult, I've been in syscourse for quite a few years at this point, and I have a Real Actual Adult Job that makes Real Actual Adult Money, meaning I don't have time for Not Adult Immature Asshole Syscourse /lh

#pinned post #it speaks

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magpies4nights · 5 months

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huh (Dev log # I'M ON 4?!!?!?!)

Hi guys! It’s me, @magpies4days on a different blog! That’s really the only promise I kept. Whoops. That’s why I don’t do promises. Anyways, since the last time I updated y'all, I passed all my finals and everything that was important. Yep, I passed my finals, which seems miraculous, because I accidentally studied the wrong study guide for my history exam and didn't really sleep enough the night before, and I got a 90 on it, which I'll be honest, that was the lowest grade I've ever gotten on a test in that class, but it's still an A so I won't cry about it. I turned in a really shitty essay too for one of my classes, but it seems that my professor didn’t actually read it because she gave me a 100 (ain’t gonna complain about that). I also procrastinated so hard on my graphic design final that I did it in like 3 hours and finished it 2 minutes before it was late. I still turned it in 5 minutes late because my computer decided it was funny to start acting up. Oh well, I passed that class, even for honor's standards. Normally I would be happy getting a B because I'd get a C and still celebrate but unfortunately I slayed too hard that my GPA was the minimum requirement for the Honor's organization to notice me. That's the Thinker in my Myers Briggs type showing baybee (JK JK I'm an INFP (unfortunately.)). Anyways, I’m on my winter break, and as much as I love getting breaks, god I forgot how much I hate summer and winter breaks. Summer breaks make me depressed because I have nothing to do, and winter breaks make me depressed because it’s literally the worst season of the year (cold weather (I have cold urticaria), dry air, less sun, the position of the sun is weird, and d3 barely does anything).

Anyways, onto the actual dev stuff. I probably should’ve figured this out the moment I started my idea, but I found out that to export my game to Mac, I’d have to have a developer id and pay for it. Which now I understand why most indie devs never upload to Mac. Oh well. (Fun fact: Mac actually has a feature called BootCamp which lets you portion your hard drive to allow you to have a Windows driver (Be wise on your portioning though because it’s permanent). I found this out when I was 16 and trying to download Pizza Tower demos. Totally not saying that so you could play it on your “Mac,” *wink wink*).

I had to switch my dialog stuff from a script I found on the internet, to an add-on that most Godot devs use ( Dialogic). I know. I am awful. However, there is a reason to this, and it’s entirely because I am an idiot. I have experimented with how Godot exports JSONs, and as it turns out, the images nor the audio would load! The text would, but it’s just not the same, especially when the dialog box is supposed to change with the character speaking. While it could be something in my code that is causing this to happen, or I'm forgetting to export something else while checking off all the boxes, it still gives me a headache and I decided it was for the best to switch. I may not be able to code for now, but there may be a day when I can. Hopefully. I had to change the layout of the dialog stuff because Dialogic kinda makes it like a visual novel kinda thing. I decided to torture myself and make everyone have different heights. Don't worry, everyone has relatively normal heights. Except for mayyybe Sleepy Weepy. They're like 6'2 (which may mean there's some cutoff for their sprites).

Aaaaanyways, enough about me suffering about dialog again. I’ve been working on the beginning and ending cutscene so that I can first torture everyone with 5 minutes of dialog in the beginning and then at the end music with text that may give people a hard time reading the lyrics. The animation isn’t done, but the text kinda is??? I’ll have to revise it like I have the past 56 times because my future self is hard to please, and I think everyone is out of character except Xandra.

Yeahhh, that’s about it so far. I made new music while I was being harassed with finals. Take a gander, but with your ears. Or don't, forcing you is unethical.

Top 10 Sleepy Weepy of all time!!!!! (This is doesn't even make it in the honorable mentions)

#gasa4 #fan game #fan made music #gasa4sc #gasa4 snackcore #gasa4 sleepy weepy #Scaperat

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niamhdonlan · 2 years

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Sex original page

At this point the narrative of my zine had altered, as at the start I wanted to focus on the progression of punk from where it started with Vivienne Westwood and Malcom McLaren store in the 70's, to now me training my focus onto making a zine on the punk scene through my eyes including gigs I go to and my friends. Despite that I did still want to include a page that acted like a homage to the store, and shows the roots of the style and where it all really started.

I knew that I really wanted this idea to be a page in the book but I was really struggling with how I actually wanted to display it. Looking back at my digital sketchbook to deter some ideas I saw that I had used Vivienne Westwood's signature tartan prints, that she loved using in all her work, therefore I decided to look for one of her tartan prints that I could use.

This is the one that I chose, however you can tell that the original is different to what it was on the page, this is because looking at the pages I had so far and for the plans that that I had for other pages. So I chose to use the hue/saturation tool to adjust the colours of it, I ended up with a purple, yellow and green combination that I liked way more than the original, and was happy with this being background.

I hadn't used Pinterest much in my past project but this time I really wanted to gather more images that you couldn't necessarily find on a simple Google search and knew I need to look at quite a few pages to gather ideas, as at that moment I didn't really have many.

As soon as I found this image of the SEX original label that you would find in the garments and I loved it, and thought it could really cool on top of the checkered pattern looking like a label on he print. To make to look like this is had to use the magnetic lasso tool go carefully go round it to get rid of the striped material in the back, so I just had the label alone. I left this white plain and decided to add an effect as I wanted it to show the unedited label. My next step was to include some images form around the time ad hopefully some of the clothing I found.

These were the images that I found;

All of these images are quite well known from the 70's all wearing Vivienne Westwood's clothing, the first one being Westwood herself in her clothes. I didn't want to fill and overcrowd the page with square photos, so I used the select and mask tool to get rid of the background. It actually took me a while to chose the layout of these photos, and I knew I wanted the SEX label in the middle as the main part of the piece, but I also didn't want the other images to be too small that you couldn't see them. I put two of the imaged in the bottom left and right corner, and then thought maybe I could mirror them with the other two images at the top. Not all the images are the same size and I thought that would look way too square, so I made some bigger and overlapping with the label, on top of this for the image of the two women was the only photo in colour, so I put a black and white filter over the top to fix this.

Here is my final outcome, I did decide that I wanted to take it to pro create after photoshop just so I could experiment and see if I could add anything else to the page. Having said that while thinking of things to add they all felt like too much and as I said in the gig blood post I wanted to get used to leaving things quite simple, instead of feeling like I have to give every page many details. On the other hand I did want to bring in little pops of colour, so I sued the pink pen to the woman's eyeliner I the bottom left, and also some pink/beige colour highlights to Westwoods hair in the top right, even though you can't really see this in this image.

I really enjoyed creating this one, despite the fact that I felt like id didn’t have many ideas at the start I just knew I wanted to follow through with the idea, and showed me that if I follow through and trust my ideas, I can come up with something I really like in the end. Through the process of making the rest of the pages I couldn't decide wether I actually wanted to include it as a page in my zine, as I thought it didn't really correlate with the rest and might of seemed a little out of place, however in the end I decided to keep it as I did want to reference the past and prove I knew where the origins so punk clothing began.

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crippl-hacker · 4 months

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Python Day 1

I have prior experience in Python but it's been a couple years since I last used it and I've forgotten most of it. I'm working through the book 'Learn Python the Hard Way' v3 by Zed Shaw. If you are interested in getting a copy feel free to shoot me a message and I can help you out! This is the start of my post series on learning Python - if you have any suggestions, comments, or questions I would love to hear more! Also for this post I have used brief Image Descriptions and did not include the full program in the ID. If you want me to include the actual code in the ID please let me know and I will do that in the future under a line break so my posts don't eat up people's feeds.

[ID 1: Exercise 10 program in VSCode. It uses variables and Print() to print out different sentences to demonstrate different escape sequences /ID]

[ID 2: Output of Exercise 10. It is a list with cat food, fishies, catnip, and grass. /ID]

Exercise 10 is about learning different escape sequences. For example if you are defining your variable text string with "double quotes" and want to use double quotes within the text string you need to use an escape sequence so it doesn't think you are ending your variable early.

Another important thing with Escape Sequences is to make sure that you are using the \ backslash instead of / forward slash.

An important thing with the book is he gives you Study Drills on how to experiment and learn more on your own. I really like this book due to that, in addition to how copying the programs helps train your eye to pick up small errors. Let me tell you - the amount of time that I have spent confused as to why my program was broken and it turned out to be a missing character is a lot.

[ID 3: Exercise 11 in VSCode using Print() and Input() to get someone's age, height, and weight /ID]

[ID 4: Exercise 11 output saying I'm 23, 5'5, and 198 heavy /ID]

The Study Drill asks me to research Input() and to write another form to ask more questions. Researching Input I found that you not need to use Print statements - you can print the user input prompt directly inside the parenthesis of Input. I decided to write a form that would get your short, mid, and long term goals without using Print() statements to get user input.

[ID 5: A python program that uses Input() to get short, mid, and long term goals before printing them all together /ID]

[ID 6: The output of the above program. My long term career goal is to work in Cybersecurity, my mid term career goal is to go to college and get a degree in Computer Science, and my short term career goal is to get as many certificates as I can in my trade school /ID]

Exercise 12 introduces the concept that you can skip using Print statements and has you re-write Exercise 11 without using Print statements.

Anyway that's all that I worked on today! Hopefully you learned something.

#learn python with F.M.#learn to code #learn python #coding resources #python #coding #lpthw #transgender programmer #codeblr #code #image described

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metropolitanmutantofark · 1 year

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The Messenger, Eclipse

Part 1, Chapter 5 - A Conversation with an Analumine

After another look around at the scene, Eclipse and I decided that the best course of action would be one that removes both alien species from the equation, hopefully without drawing any attention to ourselves. Lord knows what would happen if anyone on Earth saw an alien in 2023 - they'd either be an overnight celebrity selling their story, or they'd be an outcast nobody wants to listen to - neither of which we wanted to happen to anyone without going through the proper channels, so to speak.

We decided that the Krotwen would be the easiest to move, but the Analumines were the bigger threat. Added onto the fact that the Krotwen couldn't move from the computer they inhabited, while the Analumines were probably already moving away from the school, our work was cut out for us.

"So assuming we do find one of these Analumines," I began, leading Eclipse out of the wrecked classroom and glancing back down at my bag to make sure my package hadn't been jostled around or anything. "How do we take it out? I'd hate it if I had to kill anything."

"Well, good, 'cause we won't," Eclipse answered, getting into stride and looking down at his watch. "I'm booting up Tracie remotely," he explained. "We're going to scan for, and then find some alien life signs, and then we'll start rooting around in places we don't belong." He smiled as he finished setting up the scan with his watch. "If we get into a close encounter, just remember rules four and five."

"Rules four and five?" I repeated. "No weapons, no killing?"

"Nope," he answered. "Rule four - never lie."

"And yet the first thing you did when we met was lie, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, well - rule five," he added. "Lie to people you don't trust. Once you can tell someone's a reputable sort of person, you can start telling them the truth and nothing but the truth. I automatically don't trust police forces or militias, hence why I lied to you."

A dull beeping noise escaped Eclipse's watch, and he glanced back down at it. Finally, I could get a good look at his watch, while we were this close. It looked like a digital LCD watch at first glance, but the further and further I looked at it, the more the LCD watch seemed to fade. I had to squint to see past the watch, looking at what was essentially a small screen and a keyboard strapped to his arm. My head started to ache as I trained my eye on it, but I lost focus when Eclipse interrupted me.

"Wendy. Wendy!" he interrupted, snapping his fingers a few times in front of my eyes. "If you want a look at my watch, just ask - you'll fry your brain if you stare into an illusion for that long."

"Sorry, it just... Now that I look at it, it looks different somehow."

"Yeah, it should. I set up an illusion barrier around it. It radiates a mental image, and anyone looking sees it as what they expect a watch to look like. You're not supposed to be able to focus on it - how did you end up seeing through it?" Eclipse asked.

"I don't know. It's kind of like that ID you showed me when we met, is it? I couldn't really see it, but the writing was all shifty," I explained.

Eclipse didn't answer, he simply took a step towards me and stopped me in place, looking into my eyes, then up and down my face. When he stopped to look at my temples, I was a little weirded-out.

"You good there?" I detached from his hands and turned my attention back down to my bag, opening it up to peek at the timer. One hour, forty-seven minutes.

"Checking for any sort of psychic ability," he asked. "You don't look psychic, but it's possible."

"Well, I'm not psychic," I answered. "So you can let go, thanks. What does your watch do, anyway?"

"Mostly anything," he explained. "Eclipse decided to drop the illusion barrier on his watch, and I could see just what sort of machine it was. There were three panels - a touch screen, a brighter display, and a keyboard. The touch screen held the bulk of the controls, with the bottom display showing most of the numbers he was looking for. Every so often, he would tap it once or twice to make a number tick back up or down, so by my guess, he'd assembled the device himself and strapped it to his wrist.

"How many aliens are we on the lookout for?" I asked, the two of us eventually coming back to the stairwell.

"Can't be sure. It's only reading one human, that would be you." Eclipse's fingers tapped away at the display, his eyes narrowing as he focused. "I'll try setting the radius up a little higher."

"I'm one of them, just in case you forget somehow," I teased, starting to climb down. "If there's twenty students to a class, and ten classes on each hallway, that's about eight-hundred students to a floor, since the classes are synchronized today."

Eclipse held his breath. "Eight hundred?" he asked, stopping. "And you're certain classes were synchronized today, at this time?" he added. "Nobody just... parked all their cars out in the lot and all collectively walked off?"

"No, that's a stupid guess. It's a deep-cleaning day, so everyone's supposed to show up." I answered. "They made a special announcement about it on the school website and everything. Wouldn't let me into my homework agenda without clicking through the notice."

Eclipse's eyes widened, and he grabbed my arm. We were walking a little faster downstairs - "To make a very long explanation short, you're the luckiest girl in the world not to have shown up to class today," Eclipse explained.

"What's happened?"

"Hostile intent," he answered. "The second missing computer was probably another Krotwen. The Analumines probably needed to take it out since it was smart enough to recognize something was going on to the students," Eclipse reasoned. "We might have only just missed what happened, and they might be rolling out a second phase if they spotted us snooping around. Analumines who want off Analum V are geniuses - anyone else gets left behind. They probably had a surveillance system just in case someone like the Krotwen showed up."

"Which means we've got to go warn the other Krotwen," I started. "If something's already happened to everyone else, we've got to save the other alien before the Analumines get to it." With that thought, I started the pace again, dashing with Eclipse towards the other building.

One magnetic key use and a couple more minutes of running later, and we'd arrived at the Krotwen's room. Eclipse opened the door and sprinted inside, but froze as soon as he had taken a step inside. I wasn't sure what he could have been reacting to until I saw it - a nearly ten-foot tall tripedal alien, menacing over the Krotwen's computer.

It turned its head to look at us, standing a little taller on its feet. It was a ghastly blue color, like the veins on the bottom of a tongue. Its skin was shining, as if it were constantly secreting some sort of oil against the air. I figured it must have been ill-adapted to the atmosphere, or there must have been some element on its skin reacting to the air. That was my best guess so far, but I couldn't get much further before Eclipse started negotiating.

"Under section seven of Kiklios Galaxy law," he began, taking a much taller pose than I'd seen him in thus far. "You're trespassing on or potentially invading a class-five planet. The inhabitants aren't advanced enough for galactic travel or communication, and haven't united all their nations yet. By the authority of the Scorpius Council, I order you to leave the planet."

The Analumine tipped its head down - for a moment, I assumed it was bowing, but it opened its mouth to speak soon enough. I don't know much about Analum V, but one of their languages apparently stresses vowel sounds - some which I didn't know could be made. It spoke for a good, long while, and Eclipse was listening carefully. Unfortunately, I didn't have any form of translation, so I can't tell you exactly what was said, except for what Eclipse said in return.

When the Analumine was finished speaking, Eclipse put a hand out, trying to stop it from continuing something. "Well, you're not giving me a chance to talk, here. Little hasty to jump into the nitty-gritty of it all, isn't it?" he asked.

The Analumine replied quickly and abruptly - and Eclipse paused for a minute before turning to face me. "She's just here because she got her car snatched," he explained, which wasn't technically a lie. "Someone yanked her car, so she was late to class. Why should that matter?"

There was a brief pause, and the Analumine started taking steps towards us.

"I wouldn't get too close if I were you." He reached into his pocket and slipped his glove on, making sure it fit. "Messenger Eclipse Choros from the Loruch-Poswek Express. You so much as breathe on me wrong, you're getting sent to someone's PO box, light-years away from here. Do we understand each other?"

The Analumine backed away. Eclipse jostled his head to the side, keeping his glove aimed at the tall alien in the room. "Wendy, go move the Krotwen," he instructed. "It's in too much danger, and we can't let it leave that computer. It's already hooked up too deep into the school intranet."

The Analumine spoke, and Eclipse's eyes narrowed. "Right, yeah, I know it's pretty primitive technology from your standpoint-"

A coarse response was given to Eclipse, preceded by what I could only describe as space-laughter.

"Wendy?" he asked.

"Something wrong?" My eyes were still dodging left and right between the two locked in stalemate, all while I was trying to find some way of disconnecting the computer and its wires.

"Get away from the computer," he answered. I was three steps back from it as soon as he'd said to move, but at the time I couldn't tell why. Something beyond Eclipse's tone of voice just felt off - but I didn't know how I knew. "And get ready to run."

"What's it doing? Is it trying to put a virus on it or something?" I asked.

"If it was, we'd already have noticed. Now if you'd be so kind," he began. He reached towards another computer and snapped with his gloved hand - the computer was detached from the power and system, and had shrunken into a small compact ball in Eclipse's hand. "Run!" he finished - tossing the computer at the Analumine. It expanded immediately upon being thrown, then shattered mid-air, accompanied by a horrid rumbling noise from the decompression.

I grabbed Eclipse's hand and led him out of the room, thudding footfalls landing behind us as we flew from the scene. Between breaths, I turned my head back to try and catch a glimpse of the Analumine chasing us, only to see its thin, raggedy arms reaching out for us, head pivoted forward so that its mouth was snapping at our heels. "You couldn't have grabbed the alien?!"

"Can't grab biological material over a certain mass!" he answered, now taking hold of my wrist and yanking me into a side corridor. I took hold of the directions from there, trying to find the quickest way to the elevator. "Couldn't have even threatened him with it in the first place, since he recognized it immediately," he explained. "But most of that standoff was a bluff either way. Rule five!"

The Analumine was catching up to us by the time I'd recognized where we were headed, but we were just barely in time to reach the elevator. Eclipse slammed the doors shut with the magnetic key, and stood, catching his breath before a loud bang shook the elevator walls, bashing in the door and denting the metal. We could hear another retching roar from the creature on the other end, but it pulled away once it realized it couldn't get in.

It was smart enough to walk away from there, likely to try and find another elevator or stairwell. "So what was all that back there?" I asked, yanking my hair-tie off and starting to untuck my shirt. "I thought we were gonna help out the other stranded alien!"

"The only stranded alien," Eclipse corrected. "The Analumine mentioned something about a business partner, and that's usually a sign of premeditation. They're here on purpose - they probably have more contacts on Earth."

"But we're just a school! What do they want with us?! It's not like they've got a great need for business and chemistry majors on their home planet. And why would they take the professor's clothes before they killed him?"

"Clothes don't taste as good, even to an omnivore. The stuff in his wallet was probably a necessary pill to swallow so they could learn the language and see how official-looking they need to make the lure. That, or it tasted like candy," Eclipse answered, taking out the easier question first. "I'm not too confident in this next assumption, but if they're not going out all guns-blazing, they probably need bodies," Eclipse guessed. "They need living bodies, I should say. Analumines plant their... offspring in some of their living victims. They reproduce asexually, so they just need to drop an egg-pod into anything alive, and then they leave until it learns to walk and busts out. That professor was just unlucky enough to have found them out before they wanted to make themselves known."

"So how do the Krotwen factor into this?" I asked. "They had a message to send; they weren't threatening anyone."

"The Analumines probably didn't know that," Eclipse reasoned. "That's why they ate one of the school computers, to analyze the technology it adapted to - y'know, fifth eye and everything." He did another quick scan of the school, then rolled his sleeve back over his watch and ruffled his hair back into place, shifting about on his feet. "We can reasonably guess that the Analumine's looking for some way of dealing with the Krotwen that doesn't involve risking a distress signal. If it got a message through to me, it's more than capable of firing off an emergency flare across the greater digital-life-form community."

"OK, so from the top - the Analumines need bodies for their invasion, so they ate a computer so they could hook up to the system, to get everyone together at the same time, so they can... Oh, God."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But focus - if it's just begun, it might not be too late for them." Eclipse began to pace in the elevator, and I checked up at the light to see where we were. "Anyway - after they figured out how the computer and internet worked, they might have intercepted the message from the Krotwen while they were trying to hook up to the school internet, sparking the invasion," he suggested. "I only got the signal a couple hours ago, so whatever plan they have right now, it's still in its early stages, or it's being terribly rushed. They're probably still alive, just reading as Analumine because the scanner thinks they're carriers." He held his breath and stopped to think over a couple of the details, then resumed pacing. "Which means our highest priority should be the students we can still save. They've probably been anesthetized for right now to keep them from panicking and calling anyone over. They're priority number one."

"But if that other computer wasn't a Krotwen, then that one up there isn't even here with anyone," I added. "It's alone up there, without us, and it could also be in danger. It should be priority number one." With that thought, I leaned against the railings of the elevator, letting Eclipse use most of the space inside to pace while we both thought it over. Thankfully, there was more than enough space inside. Before long I had a couple ideas. "So, we're looking for missing pieces to stop the invasion, right? We could work with what we've got either way," I suggested. "What if the Analumines were hoping you would show up? Earlier, you were saying you made sure you were at this place, at this time, when you got fired."

"Can't say," he answered. "If they couldn't tell whether or not it was a distress signal, they might have assumed it was the worst-case scenario - that an invasion-buster force was coming down for them. If they knew what it was and who it was for, they shouldn't have lashed out at us like they did in that top room. They're smart enough to know how to negotiate with people before making their backstabbing-invasion plans, and besides that, almost everyone in this galaxy who knows the Express knows they cut me off. It was a much bigger fight than I'd have liked to make it when I left," Eclipse remarked, stopping in place.

I scoffed. "That's another thing - why would they kick you out of the-?!" Eclipse's finger pressed against my lips, and he glared at me from where he was standing. Evidently, I'd touched a subject he didn't want to talk about. I had enough sense not to push my luck asking about it any further.

"It's a long story, and I promise I'll tell it to you later, but right now we're sort of running away from an alien, and-" The messenger cut himself off and turned his head up to the elevator display, silence filling the room. "And why haven't we hit the first floor yet?" he asked. We were only on the second floor when we had started running.

The lights cut out in the elevator as soon as Eclipse had asked the question, casting both of us in shadow before the emergency lights kicked in, dimly illuminating the chamber. The two of us could hear the gentle groaning of the cables above us, coupled with a soft, scraping noise further up. Eclipse reached into his pocket to find his magnetic key, slowly fiddling with it until it was emitting a dim red light.

I held my breath and slammed my fist into the emergency fire alarm button, repeatedly bashing it into the wall. No response - whatever had cut the power to the elevator had cut all power to the elevator, including the emergency lines. "You think you can open up the elevator with that key?" I asked. "We might just be between floors. If you can open up the door, then-"

The elevator rocked back and forth as something landed on top, denting the ceiling in. Eclipse reached for the door to open it just in time for the Analumine to bust through the top hatch, its head dangling in first and snapping its teeth towards us. As it dropped down, Eclipse finally opened up the door - we slid through the gap between the elevator floor and the ceiling, but I felt something catch before I could land on the floor.

"My bag!" I shouted, legs dangling as I was held aloft. Eclipse held onto my ankles as I felt the bag's strap beginning to pull up, lifting me back up into the elevator. The thin, skeletal arms bringing me in by the shoulders were long enough to bring me close to the Analumine's gaping jaw, but not strong enough to close the gap between me and its mouth - I could hear its teeth snapping shut repeatedly as I was lifted further and further back into the elevator, and its hands tightened around my shoulders as I clawed at the elevator doors.

"Let go of it!" Eclipse shouted.

"No way that's gonna happen, mail boy!" I shot back, hearing a louder crunch as the Analumine's teeth ground against each other, still trying to bear down on the back of my head.

"It's going to kill you!" He shouted back. "Forget the car!"

It was around that point that I had a terrible idea. In any other elevator shaft, it might not have worked, but I knew that the elevator would be big enough to handle this. "Keep holding on!" I shouted down, letting go of the doors keeping me grounded to free up my hands. I could already tell that Eclipse's hands wouldn't do much to keep me grounded, but he could at least weigh me down enough not to be snapped up instantly.

My fingers tore at the bag to get it open, then I snatched up the brown paper package. I tore off the timer attached and ripped the package open. After chucking the bag to the back of the elevator, I started to pull myself back out.

Eclipse said that the immediate next instant, the force of my car bursting out of its compression early knocked cracks into the walls, with the car standing on its front end in the wreck of the elevator shaft, but I wouldn't be able to see it for myself. The force knocked both the Analumine and I down with a heavy wind, sparked by the car growing back to its normal size.

I was lucky enough to be halfway through the doors already by the time I fell unconscious from the force. The Analumine wasn't as fortunate.

#science fiction #original writing #the messenger eclipse #part 1 #chapter 5 #mail boy's got places to be

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ohsotragical · 2 years

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“you’ve encountered [this spell] before” (forced truth) + dorian’s tendency to drink/make rash decisions when he shares more than he’d like = This

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commander-diomika · 3 years

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[Image ID: Screenshot of a tumblr reply from user @weareallfromearth saying “Holy shit I would V much like to know what you’d do with ZolfWilde.” End ID]

This was in response to me tag rambling that if Alex “I don’t Actually Have That Much Experience in Courtship” Newall and Ben “I just Realised I’m Too Straight For This” Meredith don’t know what to do with Zolf/Wilde, they should hand the ship over to me.

*rubs my gay little hands together.*

I initially characterized them offhandedly as Enemies-to-Lovers but that’s not quite it, is it? On reflection I would say it’s more of an Opposites Attract situation.

Oscar Wilde, as re-imagined in the RQG universe, is a homme fatale; a dangerous, attractive man, skilled in encouraging people to underestimate him, wearing different masks, never quite being able to trust or be trusted by anyone.

There is NO personal/professional line for Wilde. He lives his work, and his work is subterfuge and interpersonal manipulation. (whether or not he started this way in his field as a journalist, or was forced to become this way by the changes in his world, is another post.) He is a person who either cares very deeply what people think of him, or is has decided that manipulating what people think of him is the way to get what he wants, and from the outside it makes no difference.

Zolf Smith does not care what people think of him. He isn’t even skilled at being kind and empathetic to people he cares about; he has no time for emotional manipulation or genuine charm. He doesn’t even have a fantastic grasp on his OWN feelings, let alone other people’s. He’s grounded, disinterested in frippery or appearances. Which is why Zolf and Wilde started out so deeply at odds with one another.

Despite the differences in the interpersonal approaches, they have plenty of common ground.

They are both deeply dedicated to a cause. They care about their work to the exclusion of all else. They are both pragmatists who have their own internal moral code, and are willing to bend or break other people’s rules in order to get the job done. They are fundamentally good people. Despite their rocky beginnings, they can respect each other because of these things.

And they might have maintained their mutually disdainful, begrudgingly respectful working relationship and that could have been the sum total... Except then the world fell apart. The Meritocratic organisation was initially compromised, then disintegrated. The blue vein plague isolated everyone and made it even harder to trust supposed allies. The Cult of Hades was on everyone’s ass making their life difficult, the other PCs disappeared off the face of the planet. Zolf and Wilde ended up in a situation where they had no one else they could trust.

Familiarity breeds contempt, but maybe if the contempt is already there, it builds Something Else. Wilde was stripped of his magic in a way that made it much harder for him to keep people at a distance and (pardon the pun) project the illusion of the debonair playboy. Zolf would have had the chance to see through Wilde’s masks, and get a better understanding of what parts of Wilde were a calculated tactic, and what was his genuine self.

Whatever betrayal transpired that gave Wilde his scar and hardened him, Zolf was privy to. He was either there and saw it happen, or he was close enough in the aftermath to see Wilde properly vulnerable for the first time in their friendship. Hell, maybe Zolf was the one who rescued him and patched him up. That was a chance for Zolf to realise that this insufferable man is a friend who he cares about deeply. At this point, he’s cared for awhile, but has been too wrapped up with his own spiritual difficulties to have space to admit that to himself.

And Wilde, oh Wilde, he’s desperate to be seen and known and loved, but he’s never allowed himself. He’s never felt SAFE to. He doesn’t let people get close, treats every conversation as a battle to be won. His safety and his power lies in being admired, but never loved. So even as trust and fondness for Zolf blossoms within him, he won’t for a second allow himself to hope that the fondness is reciprocated

With all that out of the way, this is my version of events.

Wilde is a slut (affectionate), and Zolf is gray-ace, so if there’s any bridging of that gap in terms of physical intimacy, it has to be from Zolf’s side. Giving canon a tender massage into place, that first instance of Zolf grabbing Wilde by the collar changes. (This happens on the Vengeance after Zolf has taught Wilde to steer the ship). Zolf drags Wilde down to say “I’m glad to see you perked up.” That moment now involves a whiskery kiss on Wilde’s cheek, and the man would be absolutely FLOORED by it.

I’m talking slow-mo glittering lights as Zolf stomps off blushing, unsure what just came over him; Wilde touches his cheek in bewilderment for a stretched moment before realising he’s completely agog, and he let go of the wheel for a dangerous length of time. Every interaction, every moment they’ve spent together over the last two years is flashing before Wilde’s eyes and a new context is being applied rapid fire. I’m talking the italacised oh kind of moment.

(on top of Zolf being witness to The Betrayal, throw some other moments of almost-intimacy into said flashbacks. I’m talking late nights, Zolf doing his gruff-yet-kind caretaker thing, cooking for Wilde, maybe sharing quiet and rare downtime with Zolf reading a Campbell novel on a couch in Wilde’s office)

Wilde is realising, “Oh this is allowed, oh this is reciprocated, this is possible.”

And of course they don’t talk about it, because what’s a slowburn if they immediately go and TALK about their feelings? No, the kiss goes completely unremarked upon, and Wilde continues to needle and tease and get under Zolf’s skin, except now with an added warmth in his eyes because he finally gets it. He finally understands that Zolf cares, that Zolf loves him, he’s just not the kind of dwarf that knows how to express it.

And Zolf, frustrated by feelings he can’t express but is beginning to understand, can hear the undertone of “haha, you looooove me,” shining through Wilde’s deliberate antagonism. They continue their time on the Vengeance just a little easier and closer to one another.

And we continue on to the death/resurrection arc, and Wilde’s spirit pushes for Zolf to open up about his feelings, because if not when he’s literally past death’s door, then when? When Zolf finally manages his “I need you,” it’s like a dam has broken for both of them. The second collar-grab and “We’ll go on a holiday or somethin’,” is now followed by a full kiss on the lips, not particularly erotic but passionate, (it’s the epitome of kissing someone to shut them up) and Wilde makes a surprised and delighted squeak that he would be glad he can’t quite remember when he returns to land of the living.

Once returned, Wilde might not remember everything that his spirit said or did, but he remembers the kiss. The comfort and ease that the two of them share in 179 (Eat Drink and Be Merry) is there, only instead of the two characters still being in a place of questioning their feelings for one another, it’s been answered.

Whether or not this relationship is sexual in nature is kind of up to you and what kind of fan works you like to read/write. I think there are wonderful scenes to be written an explored in many directions.

Wilde allowing himself to enjoy sex for intimacy and closeness instead of using it as a tool/ Zolf not being one for sex but Wilde’s never slept more soundly than when he’s being held in Zolf’s arms/ Zolf realising that the unfamiliar feeling he’s been struggling to express is the desire to rail Wilde til he cries/ Wilde realising that if his partner doesn’t want it from him, he’s actually quite content without sex/ The two of them being mean, antagonistic bastards to each other while fucking but Make It Kink (of the trusting and RACK kind). There really isn’t a single bad interpretation.

So really, I’m not doing anything different with them other than reading between the lines, giving canon a little nudge, and sticking the landing. This isn’t to disparage the concept of queer platonic partners. (I’ve got one!) or to talk shit about Ben or Alex (I DO respect their craft).

It’s just to say I find these two characters , and everything they’ve been through, PAINFULLY romantic, tropey, and delightful. I’m looking forward both to how Ben and Alex play the QPP, the fanworks I’m gonna read and hopefully write, and the inevitable tragedy that you KNOW Alex is gearing up for.

#zoscar #zolfwilde #RQG #rusty quill gaming #zolf smith #RQG Oscar Wilde #hank talks #rqg podcast #rqg meta #feel free to reblog #and to talk to me about it

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bumackerman · 3 years

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DEAR ADULT READERS/CREATORS,

18+ (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

^ see that? there is absolutely no way you missed that disclaimer if you understand the proper way to read english. but, let’s say you did miss it... here’s this message;

if you are under the age of 18, do not interact with 18+ adult accounts, or content.

there. hopefully you got the memo. if not, then i guess, one day, you’ll have the great opportunity to be featured in this brand new series of exposing, purging, and reporting minors! i mean... yay you?

disclaimer!; do not send any unnecessary hate to any of these people! it does not solve anything, and it could get you in trouble. just report, and block. thanks.

featured today, we have (drumroll please)... @/matching-with-my-demons!

warning: this post is very long!

alright, so i don’t actually know for sure if he’s necessarily a minor, but i do know that he’s been lying his age, and many, many other details about his life, leading to him getting caught by yours truly.

from this point forward, i will be reciting a briefed account of what exactly happened from a collective point of view of all of the victims involved.

I. beginning.

so, (and i think all of the people involved can agree,) this person is a flirt. automatically. just giving everyone pet names, talking about doing stuff with us, role playing with us, you know. nothing too extreme. i wasn’t suspicious of him at this point. i mean, i was sure he was 18+. to be fair, he did mention that he was 21 turning 22. why wouldn’t we believe him? he was speaking like an adult.

II. little lies & suspicion.

now, i’m not saying that this is impossible, but at multiple times during our conversations, he’d mentioned that he was was fluent in seven languages. seven. it’s not entirely impossible, but you’d think that if english wasn’t someone’s first (of many) languages, they’d have some sort of accent, right?

not only that, but he stated that he was six years old when he moved to america from japan, and he hasn’t moved since. i know, i know, yeah, cool he knows a lot of languages, and he’s a foreigner. yadda, yadda. get to the point.

he said that he was of asian descent, and that his parents were both japanese, and they lived in japan their whole lives. where the hell is he learning all of these extra languages at the young age of 21?

if japanese is his first language, we can cut out the time needed to become fluent in it. next, i’m ignoring english, as he would’ve had from the age of 6 to 21 to become fluent in it, but somehow he claimed he wasn’t? (let’s not mention the obvious fake misspellings and misunderstandings of simple words.) how on earth would he have become fluent in (at least) five other languages in middle school-high school?

OTHER LITTLE LIES N DETAILS

- he claimed that he was a 6’7, 21 year old (cis) male.

- said he was a stripper, bartender, and a sex worker (we’ll come back to that later).

- sent a picture of “his” chest, but it was 100% from google or some shit.

- (not judging anyone who does) he said that his body count was 74, but literally no one asked?

- he texted us when he “got another body” tf? we don’t care. carry on, i guess. (said he went on for like 7 rounds but... what?)

- talked about getting a vibrator stuck in his ass n his roommate had to get it out for him, but once again, nobody asked. °-°

- said he could bench 200 lbs. not impressive, just thought it was worth mentioning.

- said he had the same birthday as bakugou, which, okay.. (4/20)

- he made multiple channels in the server where he could roleplay with certain people, which, i, and a couple other people never used.

III. the voice chat.

after a while of all of us messing around, the conversation started to get heated, and some of us were teasing him, including me. we decided to get on voice chat (his idea), and he started talking into the mic. all of us were very confused, as he did not at all sound like a giant of a grown man.

but, despite this, we all warily continued, until he left the call. when he left, everyone who was participating voiced their current concerns, and laughed out our nervousness. that is, until he re-joined and everyone muted. he continued doing what he was doing until he “broke character”, stating he was a voice actor and it was hard to keep up that voice because it hurt his throat. i would’ve believed him if he didn’t sound the exact same as he did when he was “in character”.

after that, we were a lot more concerned and on edge about his identity, and i started to focus more on the shit he was telling us, hoping to find out who the fuck this person really was. i stopped interacting with him in a nsfw way, and mostly observed what he was saying, just watching from the sidelines.

II. the pictures.

captions:

not only do the skin colors just not match up, the hands in each picture are totally different people. even if you take into account the lighting differences, the undertones should still be the same. these pictures are fake.

if you look at the fingers, you can see that the ones on the right are flatter, and shorter. if the hand on the left were to hold that phone, it would wrap all the way around the device.

from a common sense standpoint, we know that our palms are always lighter than our skin tone. the fact that the hand on the left is still darker, proves that these are different people. (not that we needed proof.)

also, if this guy is so muscular, why can he only bench 200lbs? and why is his wrist so skinny?

+ to me, the phone, (right image) and the quality of the picture, looks like a black iphone 4s. from what i can see, at least. meaning, if i’m correct, that picture is majorly outdated.

for both pictures, he flipped the image so that we wouldn’t be able to find it by just by reverse image searching. luckily, one of the people involved was able to figure that out, and told me immediately.

III. ID check.

like i said before, a lot of us were starting to get really suspicious, but at this point, i thought i was the only one that was sketched out, so i issued another ID check.

(be sure to click on the pictures. one of them is really long. also, when reading, read the date and times that messages are sent. i was trying to lighten the mood and be nice, but it was honestly so offensive that he thought i was legitimately dumb.)

so, obviously, these ID’s are fake. not only are the pictures the exact same, but the backgrounds are the same, the outfits are the same, the names are totally fake, and just, wow. i don’t really know how he thought that was gonna slip past me.

after i called both him, and @/yourmajesty-theking out, he went into his own discord and started ranting to some of the other people involved that he was freaking out because he didn’t have his ID.

remember how i said that he mentioned he was a stripper/bartender/sex worker? why the fuck don’t you have your ID on you if you claimed you were at work that day? you can’t get in without it. °-° just- everything he was saying didn’t come together cleanly. the timeline is all sorts of fucked up.

you can’t drive without an ID, how are you getting to work? you can’t get into a strip club without an ID, how are you getting in? you can’t serve alcohol without and ID, how are you a bartender? you can’t get an apartment without an ID, how are you living with a roommate?

he told us that he moved to america with his PARENTS, and somehow his grandmother is in america now? when did that happen? if you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.

IV. conclusion.

anyway, do what you want with this information. the people in the discord all agreed that based off his voice and the evidence, that he couldn’t have been older than 15, and at most, 16.

though he hasn’t deactivated his account, the last time he was active was april 7, 2021 at 12:39am (EST) he claims he lives in cali, so i don’t know what time that is there.

thanks for reading. i’m sure i missed a lot of stuff, but for now, this is all i could put together. also, lmk if there are any spelling errors. i’m too tired to check.

like i said, if i get any hate for calling out a minor, you will be blocked/reported, and i will not hesitate to turn anons off for the time being. besides, saying dumb shit doesn’t affect me. just makes me laugh.

- bum <3

#18+ (mdni)#🍓. bum’s purge ࿐

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

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Correspondence, Chapter 01

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary: An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: some profanity, a side character who is a dick about Reid, set in season 06, self beta’d

Word Count: 2437

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

Chapter 01

March 2010

Dr. Spencer Reid

(Current Tenure: California Institute of Technology): Fred Kavli Professor of Theoretical Physics and Mathematics; Director, Walter Burke Institute for Theoretical Physics, Department Head of Mathematics, Physics, and Astronomy at Caltech.

- (Degrees, in order) Ph.D. Mathematics, Caltech, 1995; Ph.D. Chemistry, Caltech, 1997; M.A. Nuclear Science, MIT, 1999; Ph.D. Engineering, MIT, 2000; M.A. Sociology, Columbia University, 2001; M.A. Philosophy, Georgetown, 2001; Ph.D. Psychology, Georgetown, 2002; M.A. Applied Analytics, Columbia University, 2003; M.A. Socio Economic Statistics, MIT, 2004; M.A. Geology, Caltech, 2006; Ph.D. Geography, Caltech, 2006; M.A. Economics, Caltech, 2008; M.A. Brain and Cognitive Sciences, Caltech, 2009

- (Teaching positions, in order) Professor of Mathematics, Caltech, 1995-1997, Professor of Mathematics and Statistical Analysis, MIT, 1998-2005, Visiting Associate, Georgetown, 1999-2002; Professor of Chemical Engineering, MIT, 2002-05; Kavli Professor, Mathematics, Caltech, 2005-; Professor of Theoretical Physics and Mathematics, 2006-; Deputy Chair, 2005-; Director, 2008-.

“Jesus.”

The dossier is just an information sheet; no photo ID, no news articles beyond text component pieces, but it is a thick stack of correspondence and case consultations that S.S.A Aaron Hotchner holds in his hands.

“Five Ph.D.’s and eight separate M.A.’s in fourteen years? What was he doing before that?”

“Who knows? You don’t earn a Ph.D. overnight, even if his accommodation sheet makes ‘em look like they pop up like mushrooms,” Mark Anderson says, audibly tired through the phone speaker on his desk. He was one of the Unit Chief's from the teams at the FBI L.A. field office, who’s phone number was given to him by an old friend, Sam Cooper -- another BAU team leader. Hotch had hit dead end after dead end on this case, and sitting at his desk in Quantico, Virginia, he looks down at the recommended consultant’s extensive list of degrees and teaching positions with a building headache behind his dark eyes. He wasn’t a fan of Anderson, or his briskness, but at this point he’d take anything he could get. “I’m pretty sure that man has never lived outside an academic field. He’s a handful, runs my agents up the damn wall, but he knows his stuff.”

“I hope so. I’ve been on the phone the past three days trying to find someone with a background in Obscure Cognitive Linguistics,” Hotch reads from a separate file, filled with violent images and depraved acts described in morbid detail. “Our unsub sites a very particular thesis about a Study of Language from a Cognitive and Developmental Law, and I keep getting sent to experts in adjacent fields. I don’t see anything in this Dr. Reid’s background about language.”

“Oh, trust me, Hotch -- you’ll get more than you bargained for. This is your guy. He’s basically an expert on everything, and if he doesn’t know anything about languages I’ll eat my tie. He never shuts up.”

Frowning at the speaker phone, Hotch keeps his comments to himself. He’s sure that Anderson probably doesn’t appreciate having an old professor puttering around the field office, but that didn’t mean he had to insult the man. Especially when he was there as a consultant.

“Okay, fine. Thank you. I’ll give him a call now-”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that. Just send him an email. Trust me.” Anderson all but groans like a petulant child. Graining on Hotch’s nerves excruciatingly.

“I’m sure he’s busy enough with his students, he doesn’t need to be fielding emails from the FBI,” Hotch hedged, still frowning.

“Not too busy to write you a dissertation in reply, I’m sure, but you’ll at least get the answers you need. You could be on the phone with him a half hour before you get to what you called about. Hopefully it won’t take you too long to sift through.”

Alright, now he is done listening to the other agent.

“Right. Thanks, Mark.”

“Anyti-” Hotch hangs up on him before the man could make any other remarks. His patience is non-existent after the past week and this extremely brutal case that only seems to compound exponentially in it’s viciousness with each passing day. If Anderson felt like being an asshole to some old man with nothing better to do than rack up Ph.D.’s, he could do it on his own time. Hotch needed help, and this man seemed to be the only person around who might be able to finally do so.

Dr. Reid’s office number is in front of him, as well as about three different lab location phone numbers, and one email address connected to the school faculty. He considers for a moment just ignoring Anderson’s advice and calling the old professor, but he has a meeting with his Department Chief, Strauss, in twenty minutes and the team would be arriving from canvasing the dumpsites soon.

So with a suffering sigh, Hotch pulls up a new email (for what feels like the millionth time for this case) and composes a standard correspondence introduction. Who he is, credentials, case numbers and specifics as far as clearance rates for civilians go, and then finally the questions he needs answered. There is something about this particular thesis that has to be very tongue in cheek to the unsub, saying something that isn’t really there, and this could just be another dead end -- but if it led to them saving a victim from becoming another dead body, he is willing to give it one last try.

Thank you for your time, S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner Unit Chief, Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI Quantico, VA.

Then he hits send, and leaves the response up to the universe.

The team came up with nothing fruitful. Strauss proceeded to ream Hotch six ways from Sunday for wasting valuable bureau resources and coming up with zero results. His day was spinning down the drain in a hellish cyclone when he sits down behind his desk in his office an hour after leaving it. Case files still piled to one side, grotesque photos stacked within them, and Aaron Hotchner wants nothing more than for them to disappear. For the case to be solved and to be able to go home to his son and his quiet house. But there was no break in sight, no new information, nothing.

Except a new email in his inbox.

Agent Hotchner,

I know that thesis paper well. I can help you.

All air seems to have been sucked from the room as Hotch reads the words a couple of times, not quite comprehending after the morning he has had that someone wasn’t giving him more bad news. That this Dr. Reid said he could help him.

A single click of the email opens up the correspondence reply, and the agent is met with a giant wall of text. Scrolling down for pages, and a quick skim of the material shows such a complex, comprehensive amount of information that there is no way it’s just copy and pasted from any one source. Or even several. It’s a long email spanning a vast number of pages, covering every topic he had asked about (and then some).

The thesis paper, the tongue-in-cheek citation from the unsub, how this killer is acting like he’s being clever when it’s really ‘very obvious what he’s doing, as long as you know the paper’ and detailed links and quotations and references to locations and side tangents on items mentioned that could be evidence to look for or weapons of choice, and so much else Hotch’s head feels like it’s spinning. Like reading the cliffnotes of a complex spy novel, with all the spoilers in one place.

It takes him half an hour to read through everything Dr. Reid sent, meaning the professor had to have been typing a million words a minute from the moment Hotch had emailed him to get everything replied so quickly, and Hotch was baffled to realize that an old man with a handful of Ph.D.’s and no FBI training just solved his case.

Not a figment of speech.

Dr. Reid just solved the case, without even holding the file in his hands.

Hotch is dialing a phone number on his speed dial without even looking away from the screen.

“Garcia? Call the team into the briefing room, and phone SWAT to mobilize. We’re going down to the riverfront in thirty minutes.”

“--Wait, what are you talking about? Did you figure out the unsub’s code?”

Not me, Aaron thought to himself, standing up and printing Dr. Reid’s email after forwarding it to the entire team and their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia. He didn’t have time to explain it that many times, and the amount of information in that single email would be enough to send any of them tumbling heels over head. But it solved every aspect of their case. Hook, line, and sinker.

And the clock was ticking.

“Now, Garcia.”

He rushes from the room with the stack of files in his hands and his laptop open to Dr. Reid’s email. Not even thinking to thank the man for his help as he heads across the bullpen with profound determination.

They have work to do.

They catch the unsub that very day.

Quick, efficient, completely by surprise. They saved Amanda Sutton and another girl they hadn’t even known was missing. No one died. None of his team was hurt. The unsub hadn’t confessed, but Rossi and Morgan had played him like a fiddle in interrogation and now all of his team members were walking to the elevators leaving for a long weekend where they wouldn’t have to worry about serial killers or another dead soul on their conscience. Today was a win. As close to a win as they ever can get, in their line of work.

And it isn’t until he’s back at his desk, the hours ticking into the night, that he opens up his email and there in his inbox is the very reply that started everything. Dr. Spencer Reid. CalTech Department Head. Professor of everything under the sun. Expert on anything, even the obscure.

The reason Hotch will get to spend the weekend with his son, without the overbearing aftershocks of a case gone so horribly bad plaguing him.

His hands are moving before he can stop them. Opening up the email, typing out a response to Dr. Reid thanking him for his help. Relaying what happened, detail by detail much in the same fashion he had completed the paperwork piled on his desk. Letting him know that his information really did end up helping them. All of it. Even the side tangents.

I don’t know how I can ever thank you for the extensive consideration you gave this case, or how to explain how it solved it so seamlessly, but your time and effort does not go unnoticed by me.

Okay, so maybe he fluffs it up a bit more than the dreadful bullet-point list descriptions required by the Deputy Chief and the Director and SWAT Team justification reports. Just so it doesn’t look so inadequate in comparison to the man’s thesis-paper-length email he sent to aide Hotch and his team. The passion he has for his work leaps off the page, but it was a lot -- and if the old man put that much dedication into a basic FBI correspondence email, then he was probably used to it being a thankless effort.

Hotch sends the reply, and continues with his work. He always takes a bulk of the paperwork, so his team can go home and rest and recharge. He needs them at their best for each case, and if that means he spends a couple hours longer after when they finish a case, it is worth every minute. But this time, once he finishes, he gets to take the coveted time off as well.

It’s as he’s finishing up, everything stacked neatly and ready to be dropped at records, in the mailroom, Strauss’s office, the director’s, and he’s about to log off his laptop that he sees a surprise -- Dr. Reid replied to him, again.

It’s much more brief this time.

Agent Hotchner,

I’m so glad I was able to help you.

You are one of the only agents to reach out and tell me how the case went after my consultation, and I’m very grateful to know that my information actually helped your team catch the killer. I know I tend to spout facts at random, but I do have methods to my madness and it’s such a nice change to correspond with someone who understands that.

My services are always at your disposal. Anytime. Whatever I can do to help.

Sincerely, Dr. Spencer Reid

Hotch types out a brief reply. Thanking him for his offer, for lending him his expertise, and letting him know in not so many words --

I’ll have to take you up on that.

He’d be a fool not to. Someone with that much knowledge and the ability to connect it all in the way Dr. Reid had in the span of an hour? He could be a real asset to the BAU, as a permanent consultant, even through email correspondence.

He sends the reply just as he stands to leave. Turning off his office light, and his chest feels lighter for the interaction. For giving the professor that sense of assurance that what he had to say did in fact do some real good. Hotch even finds himself smiling softly, sadly, that he has also found a little bit of solace in helping another lonely old man across the country find a sense of purpose that night. Who was working late, as well, despite it being the end of the week. Speaking to not much waiting for him back at home, in whatever shape ‘home’ takes for the man. But Hotch can relate to that, too. Jack is at Jessica’s until the morning, and there is nothing at his apartment to greet him but silence and bare walls and memories he’d rather not dote on. Maybe this Dr. Spencer Reid is in a similar boat, finding comfort in his work when he can. He certainly seems to, with the amount of time he’s poured into his doctorates and degrees. In the number of departments he runs and monitors.

Hotch can’t help but feel a connection, a companionship between empty offices. Thousands of miles apart, but maybe -- possibly -- at least similar in that aspect.

Not so alone, even if only for a brief moment.

(tbc...)

Tagged list: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls

#omg i forgot to do tags #Jesus so ive been so excited for this and here it finally is and i fuck it up .2 seconds in go me #this is a S L O W B U R N fic and we are starting all the way at the beginning and im so excited im kind of shaking #updates every saturday evening #message me if you want in on the tag list #also on ao3 #HotchReid #Heid #katyswriting

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princessmariaphiliper · 3 years

Text

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 5 The Contemplating

Notes: James Acaster, Original characters, No warnings this week just some good innocent fluff. I lied. I mention babestation twice, one day I will write something innocent.

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader

Genre: Fluff with eventual smut, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,439

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

The following Sunday morning you awoke to sunrise draping lazily through your cream curtains. Pulling the duvet back you dragged yourself out of bed with a soft stretch. Making your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You looked out your window at the dusty London street.

It was going to be a pleasant day today. Temperature making its way up to the mid-twenties. So late last night you had decided you would have a day outdoors. You had some writing to do for a project you were planning therefore you’d figured today was as good as any to start. Brushing your teeth idly you started your, now rather frequent, internal dialogue on James.

Your mind had been running circles since Wednesday evening and the kiss he’d given you on his way out. Part of you kept telling yourself that ‘maybe this was just a way he said goodbye to people’. After all, the two of you hadn’t had a sober goodbye up until that point. Perhaps it was just his formalities. And it wasn’t as if he’d called or even dropped you a text since then to indicate a romantic gesture. But the other half of you could help read between the lines of his subtle touches you could still feel on your skin.

Washing your face and leaving the room you moved to your wardrobe. Pulling out an oversized white tee and dark wash jeans. You began to get dressed. Considering where you might like to go today. After some deliberation you decided on the coffee house beside Camden lock. You sat down at your desk, putting on some concealer, liner and brushing up your eyebrows. You looked into your y/e/c eyes, edging the spoolie in between your fingers and resting your chin in both hands. Letting out a large sigh, the confusion continued.

You’d always considered yourself to know right from wrong. However, your thoughts of James had lately been trivial to that. Although you knew that James wasn’t happy in his relationship, that didn’t mean that his partner wasn’t. This was yet another hurdle of guilt that was blocking you from admitting growing feelings for James. But as much as you blocked it from your mind, you couldn’t block out the way James made you feel. A sense of calm, giddiness and as though you had known him all your life. Yet it had only just been one week since you first met.

Dropping your hand and sighing you shook the thoughts from your head. Brushing your hair quickly, grabbing your laptop bag and heading out for the day.

The air was warm, the sun shining down onto the streets as you stepped out from your apartment complex. You inhaled, sucking in the early summer air. It was busy on the streets, as it usually was on a Sunday in London. Many people basking in the final day on their trips before getting the train home. You would always recognise how lucky you were to have the chance to live in such a vibrant city, doing the work that you loved. Trotting with a skip in your step to your local tube station. A smile across your face from your blessing.

The tube, as always, was muggy and dirty. Passing a burst of carbonated air through every once in a while. But eventually you made it to Camden station and were able to bask in the sunlight once again. You made your way up Camden market, the bright colours above the stylistic storefronts. People weaving past as you pushed through the crowd, heading straight up towards the lock.

After some time of fighting past bodies you reached the lock, the filthy black bars and open arms of the coffee shop embracing you on arrival. You ordered your usual drink, nestling down onto a free table in the outside seating area. Under a parasol in the corner.

There were lots of people sitting and chatting around you, enjoying the sunshine with each other's company. You people watched for a while, taking pleasure in voyeurism was one of your favourite things to do in the city. It was filled with an array of characters, outside the restraints of the cafe’s fencing. The lining of the lock was littered with people, sitting, eating and drinking casually. There was a young couple beside you, seemingly on a first date, their conversation awkward and laced with anxiety. Reminding you subconsciously of how alone you were. Not only in this moment, but somewhat in day to day life.

Mostly working during the day, you hardly indulged in the thought of spending your time going on dates, let alone falling in love with someone. After your previous relationship you needed time for yourself. To learn, grow and understand who you were as a person. And yet here you were, years down the line having done all these things. Working alone in a coffee shop, surrounded by people in love. You pondered the idea for a moment, staring at the half drafted document on the screen of your laptop before beginning to type.

Comically however, just as you did so, your phone started to buzz from the pocket of your jeans. You reached inside, studying the caller ID before you answered. It was Olive, you pressed it to your ear.

“Olive”

“Hi lovely, I just wondered what you’re up to today?”

“Not much, I’m just starting the Eraser project I told you about the other day. I was going to send you the proposal a little later to see if you're on the same page with my thinking”

“Oh, brilliant, I was actually going to ask if you wanted to meet up over coffee to talk about it. I could come by yours in about an hour if that's okay?”

“I’m actually not in at the moment, I’m in Camden, I can meet you somewhere if you like though?”

“Camden sounds lovely on a day like today. I’ll come down and meet you there!”

“Alright perfect, I’ll text you the cafe I’m at when you set off?”

“That's great thank you, I’ll see you soon.” The phone cut out, leaving only the hubbub of people as your background noise. With a smile you began to type once again, grateful for someone to subside your lonely feeling.

Olivia arrived about forty five minutes after your initial call, the second call being moments ago when she couldn’t find you in the seating area. She was wearing a jade kimono that had an intricate peacock pattern on top of a black cotton jumpsuit. Paired with embellished sandals as well as multiple chunky bracelets. She gave you a warm smile as you waved at her above the sea of people.

“Y/n!” she said, making her way over and sitting across from you. A cup of jasmine tea in her hand.

“Hello lady Olivia,”

“How have you been?”

“On off, how about you?”

“About the same, grateful for the sunshine!” She exclaimed, raising her hands passionately in the air.

“So.”

“So” You grinned at one another, excited to be discussing a new creative project. “What are your thoughts”

“I think first of all it should be filled with colour. Hopefully, if all goes well, we’ll be able to set up an open air theatre by the end of summer, just before the kids go back to school. I want flowers and paint and colourful lighting.”

“That sounds amazing, what do you want me to do on the other side of things”

“Well I’d like for you to take a bit more of a writing hat this time around. I think you’re ready for it. I’d like to see what you can create and bounce off of one another that way. I think it’d also be lovely to get a balance between different age perspectives with what were wanting to talk about”

“I’m up for that one hundred percent, I’ll be the old crone you need whenever you need it love” You laughed at her choice of words, not having intended your statement in that way but nonetheless you appreciated her humour. “How long until you’re wanting to book a space for making?”

“I can get us one by next week if you want?”

“Yeah that's fine by me.”

The initial project proposal you’d brought forward was to explore gender and sexuality through growth. With memoirs, dance and music that was reminiscent of your own identity. You’d been brewing on the project for some time now. Unsure of how to put it into the world with its fullest potential. Then, you’d been working with Olivia and watching her grow at a later stage in life, you’d brought back out the project with a new filter. Wanting to go on a journey of creating ‘Eraiser’ along with her. The creative juices were flowing. You were on your third drink of the day, now accompanied with a muffin as your stomach had begun to rumble. You’d been brainstorming stories and concept ideas, bouncing off one another for a while when your phone began pinging on the table. It was a text from James causing you to do a secret giddy dance. The message that came through that read,

Are you in Camden?

I am, why?

Initially confused by how he knew your location before an image of you and Olivia from a distance came through. You smiled at the sound of his voice calling out your name above the early afternoon sun.

“Y/n!”

“James!” You responded, him making his way towards your table. You stood from your chair as he came closer, embracing him in a hug. James was dressed in a pair of yellow canvas shorts and a white tee to match your own. He enclosed his arms around you. Being slightly taller he was able to naturally rest his chin atop of your head.

“How’ve you been?” He murmured, placing a stealthy half kiss in your hair, before you released one another from the embrace.

“I’m alright how are you?”

“Okay thanks, you smell nice by the way” An offhand comment that made your hands curl around your middle finger.

“This is Olivia, my co-worker. Olive, James”

“Lovely to meet you” James held out a hand to shake Olivia’s. Once again causing you to question his ambition by how he interacted with her in contrast to you. From the handshake to the lack of speaking her name in a sentence as he did with you. You regained your seat as the two chatted.

“You too James. Might you be James from the telly?”

“Depends what channels you’re into.”

“Babestation?”

“Thats me”

“Have a seat,” She offered as the three of you chuckled, pointing to an empty table behind him. Accepting the invite to the table graciously James grabbed a chair and sat down beside you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just having a meeting, enjoying the sunshine.” You squinted up towards the sky.

“Oh sorry, I’m not interrupting am I?”

“No no,” Olivia spoke with a slightly devilish grin, “We were about finished I think.”

This was a lie, you had been in the middle of explaining something to her when James had texted you. Knowing the implication behind her smile you rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long story to tell her once James had left. She continued,

“So where did the two of you meet?”

“We have a mutual friend, we met last friday for some drinks.” James nodded in agreement, mumbling a, some under his breath with a shake of his head. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh you know, getting out of the flat while it's nice out. I’ve been working all week so haven't had a chance to see many people that I don't have to be funny for”

You felt slightly guilty but somewhat better about the fact that James hadn’t called since Wednesday. Selfishly forgetting he was a busy man, attempting to balance working to please people with a crumbling relationship. Not wanting him to feel lonely or burnt out. “Grab a drink if you like, I don’t mind not laughing at your jokes.” You responded sarcastically, however your intention was somewhat laced with care. James flashed you a kind smile, eyebrows raised in excitement. He placed his hands on the table, squaring his elbows in a half stand.

“Only if you’re sure, I don't want to impose!”

“No please join us, Y/n is not as interesting company as a real life pornstar” Olivia joked, causing a ripple of smiles and a light ‘fuck off’ to roll from your tounge. James stood from his seat with a ‘I won't be long’. The two of you watched him disappear into the cafe before Olivia turned to you with a knowing look on her face. You sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

“So, is he good in bed?”

“We haven’t had sex,”

“You should, he’s dishy”

“It's not like that,” You trailed off “He has a girlfriend.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… but it's complicated apparently”

“How so?”

You explained as briefly as you could the events of the past week or so. Trying to watch out for how close James was getting towards the front of the line inside. After your word vomit Olivia’s grin was back.

“So you like him then?”

“I-” You contemplated, not having audibly admitted your thoughts for him yet. And the idea that you would have to face him in a couple minutes after doing so made you nervous. “It’s confusing.” you settled with.

“It doesn’t have to be Y/n”

Silently agreeing, you observed James as he ordered his drink now. Standing gently with one hand in his pocket, the other placed on the counter, his pelvis angled towards the window you were looking in from. Olivia continued,

“Listen to me. I’m twice your age love, and I know it might sound complicated and terrifying now but you’ll regret the things you didn’t try for when you’re my age. He seems lovely and it's clearly something that you want. You’ve been around him for less than ten minutes and your face has been lit up since he arrived. Even if its short lived its worth a shot, plus, it looks like he's into you”

“You don’t know that”

“Please, the way he had his hands around you earlier. I was practically gushing”

James had started making his way back to the two of you now holding an iced tea in his palm. He flashed you a smile as he came through the door.

“Just think about it.” Olive started again with a wink, “Because if you don’t, I might”

Thank you to all the lovelies who have been following the fic so far. I’ve been posting now every other day just to try get better quality of writing so hopefully yall are coping with that. Let me know any thoughts you have about the fic. I’m also taking James x Reader oneshot requests via DM’s so if you have anything you need desperately to be manifested I’m your gal.

- Princess Maria :)))))

Taglist @josies-polestar @queensantiagoofthe99

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!

#james acaster x reader #james acaster imagines #james acaster fanfic

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warriorlid14 · 3 years

Text

So Gale and Delly. I had honestly never considered them at first, thinking they were far too different. Buuuuuuut.... I think it works? And is actually super cute when you think about for a second?

So here’s my take on how it would happen. It was supposed to be a series of short bullet points, but instead, you get a disorganized mini-fic. I’ll edit it later into an actual fic format, but for now, here ya go:

Delly goes to District 2. Gale is surprised to see her in one of their rebel/reconstruction/rebuilding/whatever their name was meetings two weeks after he had officially moved to D2. She had greeted him warmly and he supposed he had looked confused, because she suddenly had a sad smile and said, “There’s too many memories back in Twelve.” He didn’t have a response for that. He had too many ghosts back in Twelve, too.

He had never given Delly a second thought. She wasn’t in his grade level and he vaguely recognized her when he’d first seen her in D13. He supposed she was nice enough, what with the whole helping Peeta come back from... well, helping Peeta come back. But they didn’t interact, they didn’t cross paths, and he’d never had a reason to form much of an opinion of her.

But then after two days of her quietly listening in to the meetings, after Pike proposed simply demolishing the buildings near the square and rebuilding from scratch, Delly broke her silence and softly said, “Well, what do the citizens from District 2 want?”

There was silence, and then Pike said, “This will be the easier than attempting to repair every single building to its original standard.” And Delly said “But this is their home,” her voice going up a decibal. After some debate within the team, Pike had told her that if she wanted to speak to all 60k (now 50k) residents of D2, to be his guest.

Five days later, Delly showed up with 700 written testimonies with requests to not tear down the buildings as well as grievances the team hadn’t even considered. Everybody was fed and had some sort of shelter- even if it was mostly camps. That had been the team’s main focus. But people wanted shoes, and shower facilities, and actual funerals for the dead.

They decided not to tear down the buildings. And Gale decided that he had underestimated Delly Cartwright.

Two weeks later Gale decided he detested Delly Cartwright. Okay, so detested was a strong word, but she absolutely aggravated him. How, just how, could a person be so cheery? At seven in the morning? It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to waking up at the crack of dawn, but that was to go to the forest. Their work place was a dimly lit, dampy building. Which also happened to house half of them, including the two of them. And if she chirpily asked him how his previous day was one more time on the elevator while he was busy trying to wake up, he would snap.

But she was from D12. The only other person from Twelve. And she meant nothing to him before, and in a way, still didn’t. It wasn’t like they were friends. But she was from home. And that counted for something.

One day, a woman asked Delly if there was any way to retrieve her dead husband’s wedding band from the moratorium. Which led to dozens of similar requests. So Gale and Delly and five volunteers found themselves trying to ID bodies and gather belongings. The rebels had started doing this at first, but the bodies had piled up, and there were simply too many of them to continue.

For the first time, Gale saw Delly lose her smile and cheery demeanor. He told her she didn’t have to go in. He’d seen enough corpses. Some of them by his hand. A few more wouldn't make a difference. But Delly shook her head and headed to the first corpse. Gale decided that she was growing on him.

That night, Gale wondered if the corpses littered across D12 still had wedding bands on.

The first time Gale saw Delly angry was two months in when she demanded that workers from The Nut be given food and shelter instead of being left to fend for themselves. Pike yelled at her and called her naive, stepping closer towards her and Gale instinctively stepped in closer as well, protectively.

Delly’s face was flushed and she had tears in her eyes- she wasn’t one for confrontations- but she looked at Pike in the eyes and didn’t step back.

It was funny, really, how not so long ago, he would have agreed with Pike. Not so long ago, he would have looked at the workers from the Nut, Capitol supporters, and said “No. You don’t get to work for the enemy for years, you don’t get to kill for the enemy, and then demand the same rights as those who fought for freedom. That’s not fair.” Not so long ago, he had stood by that mountain and felt the ghost of the fire licking at his feet, burning his side, seen the fire flash in his mind and burn down his home, his neighbors, children, felt the fire wrap around his chest, his heart, his soul, and said, “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. You killed my district. Now you deserve to die.” But now the fire he remembered the most was the one that had taken a blond-haired, blue-eyed, little girl that he loved like a sister. And for what? What had he fought for? Freedom. Protection. Justice. Revenge? But the war was over. And what had he fought for? All that loss could not have been in vain.

So he stepped behind Delly and loudly agreed with her. And when she smiled at him, it was almost contagious.

Delly left their department not long after they started looking for shelter for the workers at The Nut. She was now working on forming some sort of social program. Trying to build a community. Scrounging for resources outside of immediate survival. She was only two doors down from him, but Gale was surprised to find that he actually missed her constant humming in the office.

He supposed that this was why he accepted the invitation to attend the community dinner she organized a couple of weeks later. He kept his head down the entire time, focused on his meal. He had never been particularly quiet or reserved. He hadn’t been particularly outgoing, either, but he had never been shy. Now, though, he looked at his plate and didn’t offer any input to the conversation, weary of accusatory looks and swearing that he could hear people thinking murderer.

So he was quiet, until Delly loudly announced “I’m sure Mr. Hawthorne would love to play with you,” and he looked up to see a group of five boys aged eight to twelve holding a ball and looking at him hopefully. He gave Delly a half-glare and was about to say that Mr. Hawthorne would most certainly not love to play, but she smiled brightly at him, ignoring him. And so he found himself being dragged off to a game that included kicking a ball into a makeshift net.

When he sat back down half an hour later, hair mussed and actually smiling, Pike said, “I didn’t know you were any good with kids, Hawthorne.” Delly piped up, “Oh, Gale’s great with kids. He has three younger siblings, and he was always making them laugh back in District 13.” Gale was surprised that she knew this, that she’d noticed. He gave her a questioning look, but she just smiled in return.

He kept stealing glances at her throughout the night, mostly quizzically. Maybe it was that he hadn’t been looking closely at her, but he noticed that she had gained some of her old weight back, cheeks fuller. Hair shinier. He didn’t know her before, but he did know what had happened to her parents, and knew what grief did to a person. But she looked healthier now. Good. She deserved good things in her life.

The next time they saw each other was two days later when Gale was cursing at his unit’s jammed door that was refusing to open. He was so desperate for some sleep, having just pulled a fourteen hour shift, that he was considering just ramming it down when Delly walked by, saw his predicament, and offered to let him sleep on her couch. He was so tired, he agreed without much hesitation.

The next day he woke up to the sound of loud singing, a little off-key, and mentally groaned, shifting on the couch to try to find a comfortable position again. But Delly took this as a sign that he had woken up and brightly said, "Good morning, Gale! I hope you had a great night's sleep! Was the couch comfortable?" Gale mentally cursed, but responded and got up. He found himself sitting down across from Delly and eating some toast she had made, while Delly happily chirped on about how it was going to rain that day and how she loved the smell of freshly-water grass. Gale couldn't stop himself from asking "How are you so happy all the time?" She looked surprised, and said, "I'm not happy all the time." He must have given her an incredulous look, because she shrugged and said, "I just like to focus on the small things. On the brighter things." She paused, then said softly, "It makes it easier, on the bad days, to pick myself up again."

Gale dismissed this at first, thinking that it was just a Delly thing. But then one day he woke up with the image of burning blond hair and pained blue eyes and clipped mockingjay wings. And his heart hurt so much that it was hard to breathe, that he was sure someone had reached into his chest and started to squeeze. But that day, when he visited one of the camps with his team he caught sight of two children laughing, kicking around a ball. Saw their parents smiling, with a genuineness and lightheartedness that was hard to find before the war. He held that image in his head the entire day, focused hard on it. It had been for something. The pain, the destruction, the deaths. Selling his soul to the fight. It had been for something. And the pain in his heart didn't disappear. But he did felt the pressure lessen, just a bit.

It started with an invite to dinner at her unit. And then he reciprocated because it was the polite thing to do. And then they were at each other's places once, twice, three times a week after work. And suddenly he found that he was friends with Delly Cartwright. It had been a while since he'd had a friend. He had plenty back in 12, and there was Katniss of course, and a few in 13. But now half of them were dead or hated him or were back in a district he couldn't force himself to visit. He hadn't realized how much he missed easy companionship, how much he needed actual human contact, until he found himself smiling at Delly's animated retelling of a family her team had reunified the day prior. She was a breath of fresh air in a place that was still wounded, that was still bleeding.(But somehow, it was still healing)

Delly tried to pick up new habits and hobbies often. She told him about how she failed at baking, and was decent at gardening, but could never keep track of which plants needed more or less water. A week after they had started actually hanging out, she had taken up knitting and had dragged Gale along to practice with her. To his surprise, he found that he was actually good at it. It made sense, though, considering his ability with snares. Delly smiled encouragingly at him, but still seemed a little annoyed that he had picked up her new hobby much quicker than she had. Gale grinned at this, glad to see that Delly wasn't actually superhuman and also had normal, petty, human emotions. When she held up her poor attempt at a glove that inexplicably seemed to have a thumb in the middle of the hand, he but burst out laughing. He stopped when he saw her giving him a strange look, and asked "What?" She shrugged, and said, "I don't think I've heard you laugh since we were at District 13." But then she smiled and said, "It's a nice laugh, though. It suits you. I wished you would do it more often." And to his horror, he felt himself actually blush. It wasn't like he wasn't used to compliments. Oh, he heard "gorgeous" and "hot" and the occasional "sexy" and felt eyes looking him up and down, sometimes enough to make him uncomfortable, especially when the person was significantly older. But he didn't think he'd ever heard someone compliment his laugh. It was... nice, actually. He muttered a quick "thanks" and went back to his attempt at making a hat. There was an awkward silence for a bit, but half an hour later, he was lightly teasing Delly on her skills.

It turned out that laughing was easier when Delly was around. Maybe it was having a friend once more. Maybe it was just Delly, her lightness contagious.

Delly was ranting about Pike. Except that, because she was Delly, she wasn't actually insulting him. And kept saying phrases like "while I understand where he's coming from" and "he's a good man, really, but". So Gale said, "You can call him a dick, you know. We all do it." Delly hesitated and said, "But he isn't. Not really. He just doesn't understand that we also need funding for community building and healing." Gale shook his head, amused. "Call him a dick, Delly. You know you want to." Delly sighed, and said, "I think you want me to. Would it make you feel better, to hear me call him that?" Gale grinned. "Yes, it would. I need to know that you can physically curse." Delly rolled her eyes and said, "Fine." Then softly, hesitant, she said, "he's a dick." Gale burst out laughing and Delly rolled her eyes once more, but she was laughing too. "This isn't about my ability to curse, you know. I was talking about funding for mental health professionals. The community needs it." Gale, still laughing, said, "Delly Cartwright, defender of human rights." Delly shook her head exasperatedly, but then said, "that term applies to you too, you know." That stopped his laughter. He thought about a time, not long ago, when he'd stood by a mountain full of weapons and suggested destroying them along with everyone inside. Thought about the weapons that had ended the war- and taken dozens of innocent children with them. Gale swallowed. "I wouldn't say that." Delly smiled softly at him. "You risked your life everyday fighting for freedom. Don't underestimate yourself, Gale."

Spending so much time with Delly made him become more attuned with her emotions. Which was why a couple of months later, he began to notice the strain in her smile, the way it didn't quite reach her eyes. So he took her out to the woods one weekend in an attempt to cheer her up. He didn't hunt, though. He didn't think she'd appreciate the sight of dead squirrels. But she did appreciate the freedom of the woods and the wind in her hair and the sound of the river cutting through a valley. She had sat down next to it, picking out flowers along the edge of the river and talking about how maybe he could teach her how to swim. When she looked up at him, a warm smile on her face, her blue eyes brighter in the sunlight and blond hair glowing almost gold, his answer caught in his throat. For a second, he couldn't think about anything else but how pretty she looked, but quickly buried the thought down at her expectant eyes. He told her that it was getting too cold to go swimming, now almost November. But he could teach her once it was warmer.

They stayed there for a few more hours, and she slowly became more quiet. Finally, she admitted that it was her parent's birthday that week- their birthdays fell three days apart. She said that they usually celebrated with pastries and board games then became silent once more, wistfully looking out to the horizon, eyes tearing up pulling knees to her chest. He awkwardly placed an arm around her in an attempt at comfort, but she seemed to think it was enough, burying her head in his shoulder.

Sometimes, when he felt unbearably homesick he spent hours out in the woods. They weren't the same as his woods, but they were close enough. And if he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was home. Delly didn't have something like the woods to comfort her, though. The only real connection she had to D12 in D2 was himself, and it wasn't like they knew each other before the war. He had an idea then, of someone who did know her before, someone who could help. And he hated that he suddenly felt afraid.

He and Peeta Mellark had never been friends. Not exactly. He had tried hating him once, long ago, but had quickly given up. He was too nice, too kind, too caring and never treated Gale with anything less than respect. Which led to Gale grudgingly respecting him on a bad day and actually liking the guy on a good day. In another world, maybe they could have been good friends. But in this world, he was the person closest to Katniss, at least according to Greasy Sae who he talked to once a month, and that thought filled him with dread. That Peeta could mention him to Katniss. That Peeta would know whether Katniss hated him outright or not. That he could ask Peeta to talk to Katniss on his behalf. That he could call Peeta and accidentally get Katniss on the line. And though sometimes he longed to at least hear her voice, to confirm that she was okay, he had left for a reason. And as much as he wanted to hear from her, he knew she didn't want to hear from him. But this wasn't for himself. This was for Delly. And Peeta was the one person who might be able to help. So a week later, he sucked up his fears and picked up the phone.

As soon as Peeta's voice came from the other line, Gale's mind went blank and all he could come up with as a greeting was "Um, hi." There was a pause, and then "Gale?" He swallowed. "Yeah, yeah it's me." There was another pause where Gale tried to sort through his thoughts, but before he could bring up Delly's name, Peeta awkwardly and reluctantly asked, "Do you want me to put Katniss on the line?" which caused Gale to practically shout "No!" into the receiver. "No," he said again, not shouting this time. "It's you I wanted to talk to, actually." Gale quickly explained his plan, and after a few seconds of silence, Peeta said, "That's a good idea. That's really kind of you, Gale." Gale said, "Well, she's my friend," almost defensively. "No, I know. I'm glad she's got you looking out for her," Peeta said. "Right." There was a silence, and Gale thought that maybe now would be the right time to hang up, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. "I really miss her," Peeta said finally. "She misses you, too," Gale said. Which was true, but he usually wouldn't be saying that. There was another silence, but Gale still didn't hang up. "Maybe I should go up there to visit her," Peeta said. Gale noticed how he said I instead of we. No Katniss then. Which Gale didn't know whether to be relieved it or not. Still, he said, "I'm sure she'd like that." Still, he didn't hang up. But he couldn't bring himself to ask either. And Peeta, ever perceptive, caught on to the reason for his hesitation and finally said, "Katniss is doing better, Gale."

Relief. That was the immediate feeling that overwhelmed him, followed closely by longing. There was once a time when he and Katniss lived in each other's pocket. When they depended on each other for survival, for their sanity. And no matter what had happened between them, romantic or not, Katniss was his best friend. He missed her. He missed her so much it physically hurt some days. And for a second he wanted nothing more than to hop on the next train to D12 to see his friend. But friends didn't kill each other's siblings. So he said, "Thanks, um, take care," and hung up. He desperately hoped Peeta hadn’t heard the lump that had formed in his throat.

His order arrived a few days later in some sort of container to preserve the baked books. Gale looked inside the box to find the invoice he had requested, but of course Peeta didn’t include it. He rolled his eyes and made a mental note to ask Greasy Sae how much she thought the food was worth. What he did find was a piece of paper with a phone number. Which wasn’t needed, really, because he had memorized that number months and months ago and every week got closer to dialing it. He knew he wouldn’t though. Peeta may have been closer to Katniss now, but that didn’t mean that Gale didn’t know her, too. And his presence would hurt her too much at the moment. But the fact that Peeta had given him her number meant that she probably didn’t despise the ground he walked on, then. And that was something.

When Delly opened the box to reveal an assortment of muffins, cupcakes, and cookies, all distinctly District Twelve, her eyes widened and she practically jumped at him, wrapping him up in a tight hug. He pulled her closer towards him, inhaling the scent of cinnamon that was always present in her unit and lingered on her at all times. He felt a sense of loss when she let go and was tempted to pull her back into his arms when she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and said, “Thank you.” She stood on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. The feel of her lips on his cheek lingered for the rest of the evening.

Gale lay awake that night in his bed, heart pounding hard in his chest. He wasn’t dense. He knew what his recent thoughts about his cheerful, peppy friend meant. And the only coherent thought he could come up with about his predicament was Oh no.

It was his own little secret he carried around for months. He tried not to stare at her too hard and tried to avoid thinking about her lips or about how her smile seemed to light up the entire world in the darkest of times. His world, at least. Sometimes it felt like the war, the bombs, had extinguished all the fire and passion inside of him. That the fire that had one day burned so strongly had died, taking with it his friend and his sister and his soul. Sometimes it felt like he was running on autopilot, doing what was expected of him, trying his best to amend his mistakes but feeling... not much, really. Empty But one look at Delly who shone so bright and he felt the warmth back in his chest. He wouldn’t tell her, of course. He couldn’t risk losing their friendship, going back to being bitter and miserable and oh so lonely all the time.

He really needed to stop falling in love with his friends.

On the anniversary of the end of the war, the anniversary of Prim’s death, Gale didn’t leave his unit. He had every intention to, even got dressed and brushed his teeth, he had a job to do after all. But then he heard the sound of some kids laughing outside his window and he fell back down on his couch. He didn’t get back up.

The pain was sudden and intense, suffocating him, and for a second he thought he was back in D12, choking under the fumes and screaming as his shirt caught on fire. He wondered if that was what Prim had felt, what all those kids had felt, those last few seconds, and he laid down and curled into himself. But he knew that no matter how horrible he felt, somewhere hundreds of miles away, Katniss was feeling worse. He had never wished for anything more than to be able to switch places with Prim at that moment. Little Prim who wanted to be a doctor. Little Prim who risked her life to save her cat. Little Prim who wanted nothing more than to heal others. Prim. Dead. At his hand.

He didn’t know how long he laid there, but eventually the door to his unit opened. Delly. He had given her a key for emergencies ages ago. And suddenly Delly was sitting on the couch and his head was in her lap and she was running her fingers through his hair and whispering something he couldn’t decipher. So he closed his eyes and tried to let her voice and smell and the feel of her fingers on his scalp ground him.

He wasn’t sure what Delly saw in him, why she stuck around. But Delly was good and kind saw the best in everyone. And had decided he was worth her friendship. And maybe if sweet and kind Delly saw something good in him, that meant there was something in him that was salvageable.

District 2 didn’t abide to the laws of science and weather because there was a huge snowstorm in the middle of March. Delly’s team and his team worked diligently for days to get the last 500 people or so moved out of camps and into the newly rebuilt compounds. Hours before the three-day storm was to hit, they were finally released and sent home. He and Delly had decided that they would weather out the storm at her place and spent the first night huddled in front of the fire, retelling old stories and playing board games and laughing into the night.

The next morning Gale woke up to the sound of Delly bustling in the kitchen, singing loudly and a little off-key. He smiled to himself, and thought that he really wouldn’t mind waking up to her voice more often.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. If he had leaned in first, if she had. But on that third night of the storm, one minute snuggling and laughing under the blanket and the next wrapped in each other’s arms, they broke apart, grinning at each other and lips tingling.

Gale decided in that moment, that he had never felt more at peace.

#gale hawthorne #delly cartwright #peeta mellark #the hunger games #thg #gale x delly #warriorlid writes #excuse the formatting y'all #this was really only supposed to be a bunch of bullet points #whoops

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celebritytgcaptions · 3 years

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Requests (5/23/2021)

Hi lovelies! I’ve been getting so many requests & I’m working hard to get all of them in the queue. Thanks for sending them my way! I’m writing to let you know that the queue is now full until the end of June. I was able to get every requests from my May 8th post in there except for a few. Requests from May 8th for captions featuring Katy Perry, Jenna Fischer, Marisol Nichols, Addison Rae, Ariana Grande, Erin Kellyman, Taylor Swift, Billie Eilish, Jhene Aiko, & Kirstin Maldonado will be posted in early July.

But there have been an absolute ton of requests since then too, yay! So I’m listing all the requests that I haven’t gotten to below. If you made a request but don’t see it below that might be for a few reasons. 1) I’ve written it already and it will be posted in June. 2) It’s one of the requests I posted on May 8th so I won’t talk about it here. 3) I considered it a demand not a request (for example, I received two that said “Anything with,” that wasn’t really a request just telling me to do it. Sorry if this bothers some of you but it is an issue with me so make sure you word your requests AS requests). Either way, thanks for the love, lovelies! :D

Anonymous said:

Could you do one with either Kelley O’hara or Alex Morgan from the USWNT about a guy soccer player watching the US win the world cup and then want to be them or something like that?

I actually know who both those are (shockingly enough, I don’t really follow sports) so sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Could you do lorengrey captions? She’s so hot

Sorry sweetie, don’t know who that is. :(

Anonymous said:

Hi I just had an idea for a game you could do. It could be where someone has to say as a boy what they’re like physically in stages. So first stage is hair color for example, second stage could be height, third stage could be body type, etc. An example would be if I was a black hair, short height, thick body type, I would match up with someone like Nicki Minaj. Just an idea which you could extend on. Hopefully it makes sense. I appreciate you!

I actually have a game like this mapped out called “Build a Sissy” where you choose age, hair color, and bra size, but it would take a LOT of work to make so I haven’t written it yet. Maybe some day though. :)

Anonymous said:

I would love to see a Tori Kelly caption. Her hair and body are not typical but beautiful for a white girl. I say that last sentence respectfully. I think having a caption with her would be great

Sure thing! Tori Kelly is a cutie. :)

Anonymous said:

Ok I'm not sure if u'll know these 2 cuz even I had to look them up for the names but anne dudek and maitland ward theyre the 2 blonde sisters from white chicks not sure if uve seen it but if u can could u make a caption for them please?

I DO know who they are! I’ve been thinking about doing a White Chicks caps because there’s a lot of cute looks in that movie (especially for Busy Phillips who I just love) so sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Could u do Yvette nicole brown from community? Id like to see some big girl love

Sure thing!

Anonymous said:

I already know that this request is probably gonna be a No but I still have to ask whats the ruling on GCI enhanced celebrities like Taylor swift from Cats? Or is that too much like "Furry" stuff. Now I'm Feeling this will be a No for multiple reasons

So it is not an issue with CGI “enhanced” celebrities but for Cats it is because I do not have a Furry fetish and I get uncomfortable thinking about writing caps for it. But I write caps with “manips” all the time (photoshopped images of celebs) so I’m not ruling out CGI enhanced celebs all together.

Anonymous said:

Can you do one of Lindsey stirling? And for the story can it be a guy trying to learn Violin but he cant seem to focus he even tried hot female teachers but it didnt work then he gets a male teacher than he starts focusing and wanting to please the teacher he becomes a sissy sorry its a long request

Sounds fun, sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Hi big fan and I think you’ve been doing amazing work. Is there anyway you could do a story about a guy who loses a bet to sorority girl and is forced to get his nails painted and turned into a girl? I love the idea of having a boys nails painted against his will. I’d love one with Selena Gomez but if you think another celeb would be better I leave that cumpletely to you.

Totally! This sounds fun. :D

Anonymous said:

Can you do thelma and Louise?

I’m assuming you mean Geena Davis & Susan Sarandon from Thelma & Louise so yes. Yes I can. :)

Anonymous said:

Can you do a caption from the movie bridesmaids? Like when theyre all trying on dressess or something?

I haven’t seen Bridesmaids (I know I know) but I can try something. :)

Anonymous said:

it would be super cool if you could do some more games! They’re my fav

Glad you like them! As long as I’m not on hiatus, games will be posted every second Saturday. I’ve already got two set for June. :)

Anonymous said:

Hey huge fan of your recent work and super excited about new caps!! Do you think you could do one about a college guy who drops out in pursuit of being a stand up comedian, but the comedy club needs a female comic so they turn him into a girl? I was thinking maybe Nikki Glaser, she so funny and sexy. Thanks can’t wait to see all your new stuff!!

Oooo, Nikki Glaser is great. Sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Can you make a caption about a guy who makes fun of curvy and thicc women, where the women get their revenge and turn the guy into Nia Jax?

You got it!

Anonymous said:

Hi Me again on the topic of the assembly line worker caption sequel if you do it i just an idea for the story like before depicting the sissies "first time" but you can have it be that the coworker doesnt know and is telling everyone about the chick he slept with last night and the sissy is just thinking "if only they knew"idk i thought it was good anyways thank u again

So this message is in reference to a sequel caption that was requested & that I did write and will be posted in June. I’m sharing it here to let the anon know that I wrote the cap BEFORE I got this second request so there will be a followup but the story will be different. I hope that’s ok.

Anonymous said:

Hi idk if u watch wrestling or not I see u have some captions of wwe womens wrestlers but im not sure have far ur knowledge of it is? Could u do a caption of Rhea Ripley if u know her?

I have never seen a single episode of WWE, I do not watch wrestling, and yet somehow every time someone requests a wrestler I know who she is. Don’t ask me how because I do not know. Anyways, yeah I can do a Rhea Ripley one. :)

Anonymous said:

Could you do a caption about a janitor for sissy co. That finds out the strange goings on at work and tries to blow the whistle on the whole operation but is caught and turned into a sissy maid for the sissy co. Corporate office abit specific I know but ive been thinking on that awhile however u do it will be perfect thanks

You got it!

Anonymous said:

Could you do katheryn Hahn from wandavision specifically the 80s look with the Big hair and aerobics outfit

Oooo, sounds nice. I’ll type that up for sure. :)

Anonymous said:

Hi big fan of your caps!! Do you think you could do a cap where a football player wants to go to the NFL but gets hurt, so they turn him into a female commentator, maybe Lauren Rutledge? If you don’t know her, she’s been a college football reporter for awhile and was also a former Miss Florida. Anyways I just think any guy would be lucky to be turned into her and I love your caps keep up the great work!!

Me: *googles Lauren Rutledge to see if it’s who I’m thinking of* How do I know who this is? Anyways, yes I can write this. :)

...for some reason there are no GIFs of her though so I’m just gonna move on.

Anonymous said:

Hi I'm the one that requested the LONG list of celebs I'm still really sorry about that I didnt realize how many it actually was till I looked back so I wanna retract some for your sake tell ya what if you havent done any already just do the ones that are specifically marked (as in the ones detailed by movie or show theyre in) the ones that are just names you can leave out i knoe its still alot but hopefully that takes some weight off of ya sorry again

You don’t have to be sorry! Like I said, in the future I’d ask that folks limit requests to no more than 3 celebs at a time but you didn’t know that. I’d never said that before. I typed up every celebrity and they’re going to be sprinkled in during June. Hope you like them! :)

Anonymous said:

Hello ^^ I love your work. Can u make a caption with the name "jules" and Ariana Grande please? Thank you

Sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Hey, not really an ask, but something I needed to share

I'm the one that asked for the Stephanie Beatriz caption from a whole back, and I absolutely loved how it turned out. Each time you roll out a new caption is like a small thrill to me and I read them right as they're released.

Now this wouldn't be an ask if I wasn't asking something, right? Well, next month sees the release of the "In the Heights" movie, and there's an opportunity there to do a series of captions using stephanie Beatriz from that same movie.

In conclusion, I love your captions so much, you're amazing!

Awww, this is such a sweet message. Thank you! And YAAASSSSS! Ever since the first trailer for In the Heights dropped I was like, “I must write a caption with her in this!” So you can imagine how fun it’s been waiting this entire time. *eye twitches*. We’ll have to wait until the movie comes out for me to be sure I can find a good image but this IS a caption I want to write. :)

Anonymous said:

Hi I just recently came across your blog and fell in love with it!! The caption with the football player being turned into Bella Thorne is one of my favorites!! I’d love so much if you could do a sequel or something to that cap it was so amazing and I need to know what else happens to “her”. I’m not sure if this is possible or if you even do sequels but this cap was great and I look forward to all the others!!!

Glad you like it! I’m always looking for sequel captions to write on Throwback Thursday so you’ll get this for sure. :)

Anonymous said:

Hey big fan! Do you think you could do a caption where a short guy gets made fun of by all his girl friends for how short he is? Ariana Grande is fairly short and I think a caption of her (of age of course) would be awesome

You got it!

Anonymous said:

Can you do one with the bella twins as two guys who fought over the same girl then the girl turns them both into look alikes of her but then they start fighting over the same guy

Yep!

Anonymous said:

Do you know suzy berhow? Or angie Griffin? If so would love a caption of either of them please

Sorry sweetie, I don’t know who those are. :(

Anonymous said:

Would appreciate more Sia captions please when u get the chance

I will remember that. :)

Anonymous said:

Can make some Winnie Harlow caption please? I adore her style

Sorry lovely, I don’t know who that is. :(

Anonymous said:

How about instead of removing the captions with Demi in them ,the images of Demi were just replaced with another celeb and if Demi is mentioned by name in the caption then that could be edited to mention a different celeb. I respect Demi's decision I do but lets not lose some well made captions. Also if you could please make a caption where Amy Adams feminises a fan and raises them as her daughter and Kristen Stewart makes you her submissive wife that would be appreciated. I'm a fan of them.

So about the Demi Lovato captions: I understand your feelings but I’m still going to delete the original captions. Because of how my captions are made I can’t just go back in & swap out an image or edit the text, I have to remake it from the ground up. I am hoping to do that with some (maybe all) of the Demi Lovato captions & re-publish them, but I’m still going to delete the originals.

I can do the Kristen Stewart one for sure and I’ll TRY to do the Amy Adams one I just am not 100% sure I can find a pic for that but we’ll see. :)

Anonymous said:

If it’s possible before your summer hiatus could you do a caption with Amanda Crew (silicon valley, sex drive)?

I will do one with Amanda Crew but I can’t commit to doing it before the hiatus.

About the hiatus: I don’t know when it’s going to be. I want to TRY to make it to at least July 18th because I have a specific game in mind I want to post for 5 years of Celebrity TG Captions games, but after that I have no idea. I’ve been writing caps for a longer stretch of time since normal since I’ve switched to a part-time blog so I might burn out at any second but for right now I’ve still got some juice.

#Not a Caption #Requests #Request

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