Tumgik
#i feel proud at the very least because i did this with a mouse >: )
stariekis · 4 months
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Game over.
pairing : non idol!ni-ki + fem!reader . genre : fluff . cw : neck kisses, skinship, ni-ki being a teaser . wc : 1.9 k
— synopsis : playing games with your boyfriend ni-ki can be really funny sometimes ... at least for him.
— note : i was ripping my hair off while writing this so i really really hope you like it as much as i do <3 feedback and reposts are very much appreciated my loves ~ enjoy !
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You were in the living room scrolling through your phone in complete silence, soon ruined by the screams of your boyfriend who was playing some games in your shared room.
'He lost again' you thought, he only gets this mad whenever he loses so there is no other option really. Curiosity got the best of you so you decide to check on him just to see what made him scream like that, and also to spend some time together why not.
As you were approaching the room you could hear his voice at the other side of the door, saying things like 'how did i not see him he was right there ugh' and so on.
Opening the door slowly you were welcomed by the sign of your boyfriend sitting on his gaming chair leaning back, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. He was also wearing gray sweatpants and one of his white tank tops. His headphones fell around his neck as soon as he heard the door open, looking directly at where you were standing.
He smiles sweetly at you, mouthing a 'come here' while patting one of his thighs. You didn't waste a second coming closer to him and sitting on his lap right after, both of his hands now resting on your thighs drawing small circles.
— 'What were you playing ?'. you said looking at his computer screen. After explaining everything to you an idea crossed his mind. — 'Babe let's make a bet, if you win a round i would clean the house for a month but if you lose you have to play with me at least once a week'. he looked so proud of his idea and actually the game seems pretty easy, a bit of help at home won't hurt either so why not. You nodded your head, taking the mouse in your hand and putting the other one on the keyboard.
You were doing pretty good actually, better than he would ever imagine considering this was the first time you played. But Riki couldn't let you win, he didn't want to clean the house at all so he took matters into his own hands and decided on distracting you, just a tiny bit.
Your concentration was anywhere to be found as soon as you felt a pair of lips kissing down your neck, his hands that were once on your things were now on your hips. You started to move around, feeling nervous and a bit ticklish because of your boyfriend's actions.
In a blink of an eye his computer screen lit up with a sign that said GAME OVER with red big letters. — 'Hey that's not fair Riki ' you said, crossing your arms and pouting after turning back to him.
He let out a chuckle, his deep voice echoed in the room, finding your reaction adorable. Giving you a quick peck on your pouty lips he said — 'Well i'm free this saturday so we can play something together, we made a bet remember'.
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puppycatremus · 5 months
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agere outfits!
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im sure it’s obvious but just in case, the order goes patton, roman, logan, virgil, janus, and remus :3
i’ve never made outfit collage things before, so i hope y’all like these!!! i did my best haha
now for ages and headcanons and such under the cut :3
patton:
age range: he usually reaches like,, tiny baby age. i originally thought he’d be a bit on the older kiddo side cos i thought it’d be cute if he was like “i wanna help take care of the others even if im regressed” but nah his brain is like “you’re an infant now, let others help you whether you like it or not” ksjdjfkf
he’s nonverbal when he regresses, aside from the occasional single word sentence (such as “up!” or yes and no, though he usually nods or shakes his head for that)
it actually took him a while to realize he was an age regressor. he was the last of the group to realize their regression (though everyone else had their suspicions lol)
he doesn’t have a specific caregiver, everyone kinda takes turns caregiving, but baby patton is very (hilariously) attached to remus. his nickname for remus is “mouse” because he can’t really say remus or duke. mouse is just easier (roman is a bit jealous of the affection baby patton has for his brother, but he’ll take that to his grave)
roman:
age range: he goes from roughly 5 to 7, a bit younger if he regresses from stress
he started out being a rather proud regressor, not wanting to accept help from anyone. nowadays he’s the opposite, being extremely needy and clingy lol (no one really minds)
if you think he loves disney when he’s big, hoo boy little him is alllll about it lmao. he’s especially into bluey, watching at least one episode every time he regresses (and usually it’s not just one lmao)
big him isn’t really the biggest fan of remus, but when he regresses it’s a different story. he thinks of remus less as an annoying twin brother and more like a cool uncle that lets you do things your parents wouldn’t let you do. he’s embarrassed by this in a non-regressed state, and it doesn’t help that remus teases him endlessly for it lmao
logan:
age range: similar to roman, roughly 5 to 7, but much younger when stressed. he also has a tendency to age up slightly when others regress in his company. like if he’s seven, but patton goes baby mode, suddenly he’s twelve. not fully out of the headspace, but not as young as he’d prefer
surprisingly, he can be a bit of a brat. i mean this with love lmao. when he’s on the younger side, he has to have everything go his way or else. he also doesn’t handle rejection well. the others learned this very early on, and they each have different ways of dealing with it. but little logan’s smart and caught on to that, so when he needs or wants something, he chooses the big side he goes to carefully. little schemer <3
when he’s on the older side (or really when anyone is younger than him, which happens a lot), he becomes very protective. especially of patton, since he’s baby. he’s surprisingly good at knowing what patton needs, and verbalizes it on his behalf
when he’s feeling sad or stressed, he goes immediately to virgil. and if he can’t go to virgil for whatever reason, he goes to virgil’s room and lays on his bed. or, if he can’t go into virgil’s room, sits outside virgil’s door. virgil is his comfort person <3 or- comfort side. whatever kajdjfkf
virgil:
age range: he’s a teen regressor. like, 14 to 16 ish. he gets even more emo when regressed and no one knows how it’s possible skdjfkfkf
he has a paci he rarely uses, and it took a long time for him to become comfortable using it. he only really uses it when he’s particularly stressed (which, i mean, he’s kinda always stressed lol but the paci is basically for emergencies)
he’s an extremely protective older brother to everyone, and is almost like a caregiver even when regressed. on days where everyone’s regressed (as rare as they are), it’s him against the world lmao though he can enlist help from thomas (or remy if thomas is asleep) (remy only shows up in the mindscape when thomas is asleep)
he doesn’t need a caregiver since he’s always old enough to care for himself, but there are days when he goes to janus. he’s always mortified by it when he ages back up, but when he’s in the throes of teenage angst he needs janus’s support more than anything. he’s just grateful that janus doesn’t really bring it up when he ages up
janus:
age range: usually about 3 or 4, and doesn’t really go outside of that
lil dude loves hissing. but not like mean hissing, just excited hissing. he just goes “ssss!” and everyone knows he’s happy. the hissing is usually accompanied by hand flapping. stimmy lil snake <3
loves giving everyone hugs all the time. he just clings and won’t let go. he’s probably given the most hugs to either patton or roman, the latter of whom is basically always caught off guard by it. patton was caught off guard the first few times but has since adjusted (and happily so)
much like how little patton is very attached to remus, janus is extremely attached to roman. initially, roman wasn’t a fan of this, as he wanted as little to do with janus (both big and little) as possible. but once the two of them managed to bury the hatchet (as in, janus actually apologized), roman didn’t mind as much. it took a bit to become fully comfortable, but now roman is quite fond of little janus (and maybe big janus isn’t so bad <3)
remus:
age range: he could be any age, really. he doesn’t have time to figure out how old he is, he has mischief to get up to. he’s usually pretty capable when regressed, so he’s probably older than most of the others. he doesn’t act like it tho lmao
dude loves aliens. wants to be one. also pirates. his aesthetic can be summarized as alien pirates. or pirate aliens? thats actually why janus has an alien stuffie, it makes him think of remus <3
loves messing with the others when they’re also regressed. says things like “you’re now aware of your own breathing” and no one is a fan <3
definitely the most physically active of the regressors. if he’s not running, he’s jumping. and if he’s not jumping, he’s running kajdkfkfkf bro wears everyone out, even fellow regressed sides. the only one who can calm him down fully is janus, but only when janus isn’t also regressed. if janus is regressed he’s joining in on the chaos
thats the end of the post. i love these guys so much <3
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amypihcs · 7 months
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Hello hello hello! Watson writing about a story of three men, the Three Garridebs! Ans he's feeling poetic!
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And i bet MY ASS that the bloodletting is the reason why Holmes is not grumbling to much at all this poetry Watson has decided to write! A very teatrical incipit, i must say (my italian professor would be soooo proud of me for this comment uwu)
Let's see, indeed!
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When they dare to offer you a KNIGHTHOOD to Holmes and force him both to refuse and to spend some days in bed, maybe cuddling with Watson. But now he has a case or something! Hey love, look at this!
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Holmes came out of the room, kissed Watson's hair, hey love, see if you can find a guy with this name! What a weird name, but wow! here it is!!
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AAAAND no, dearest, this is the one who employed me... you know any other?
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Why Holmes, another one is here! No, lovely, he also is already counted! But let's receive him! Weird that he should drop by...
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WATSON! is now the time?? Miners and crafters, another bistinguished bisaster Watson moment!
Ah and this John Garrideb is a FANBOY! Guess that Holmes is not so happy to be so recognizable, it's a mess for incognito missions! Well, let's deduce this man a bit!
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Uh,. but he seems quite irked by, y'know, Sherlock Holmes doing his job. Watson somehow finds it amusing!
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Perfect, shall we get to business?
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Sorry if i had some bit of fun, my Watson knows i do it a-Hey! What do you mean WHY i was called into this matter?
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because, american DUMBASS, i'm a DETECTIVE! Now tell me and my friend the whole story. Yes, so my Watson can know everything
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Well, OF COURSE! I'd tell him everything all the same! He's my husband. This guy is more and more suspicious!
Well, he tells his tale, all the facts and then takes his leave, with the promise of contacting Holmes again in few days. And now Holmes is feeling pensive
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And so the 'facts' were a nice bag of LIES. And Holmes has decided that he feels like playing cat and mouse with this man, Watson likes it too!
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Plus, the case is funny! And it's high time for a properly funny case! Now, Watson, would you call your Mr Garrideb?
They take an appointment with hims and drop at his!
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Well, at least he's a true person! Good!
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And, Watson, you're AS KIND AS EVER!
Now time for some cross-questioning!
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I mean, my man, Holmes DID tell you that you didn't need to tell him! ah! Hey, is there anyone?
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Ah! the suspicious american! WEEEEIRD that one the SAME day a detective gets called Garrideb n° 3 is found uh?
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And the american is sending the half mummified Garrideb to meet him? EVEN MORE suspicious!
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Holmes approving? He seems to have a plan somehow. Let me now alright?
Watson will tell us in the next letter!!
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thefanficmonster · 2 months
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Gaming Night
Ash [Team Theorist] & Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Stress and Anxiety, Crying
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: When a mishap at work proves to be the final straw for Y/N, Ash is there to be the best friend and offer comfort.
Requested by @freakshows199 Hi dear! Sorry for the wait on your request but I hope the final product makes up for it! Love, Vy ❤
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It's been quite the week for you. It's exam week, after all, it's to be expected.
Pushing through college while working on Team Theorist means your plate is constantly full but you've gotten used to it. You've built a routine and dynamic around it that allows you to manage your time in a way that allows you to excel at both and still enjoy a decent chunk of free time. Or at least seven hours of sleep.
At the end of the day though, you're only human, and having such a lengthy to-do list is pretty anxiety inducing no matter how organized you are. Just looking at your daily schedule of things that need to get done is enough for stress to start creeping in. It's admittedly not fun, but the final product - whether it be a GTLive video, a theory video you did the research for or a successfully passed midterm - is so rewarding. It makes it all worth it.
This week, however, it's been rather difficult to feel proud of the work you do and even find the motivation to do it. Stress and anxiety have riddled your mind and bleed over into your dreams which has by extension made falling asleep very difficult.
Stress and anxiety coupled with very few hours of sleep and a particularly high dosage of caffeine in your system, it's all a recipe for an inevitable crash-and-burn. Or burnout, in short,
Currently you're setting up the camera and lights for an upcoming GTLive recording session. You got to Steph and Matt's house an hour early because if you were to make a pitstop at your dorm you'd undoubtedly fall asleep and be late. You didn't wanna risk it so you just thought you'd get ahead with your work.
Ash beat you to it though, seeing as how you found them already seated behind the screen, editing the footage you recorded yesterday.
It was only after seeing them that you realized just how much you didn't want to take on the task alone. Ash is one of those people that exude such a calming and comforting aura and they are the most amazing friend to have by your side. It especially shines through when you're going through a period such as this one. They're always there to look out for you when you forget to do it yourself.
"Hey, Y/N?" They grab your attention, removing their headset as they look up at you from behind the monitor.
You stop your ministrations with the ring light and turn to give them your full attention, "Yeah?"
"Can you do me a small favor?" They've barely had time to finish their sentence before you nod, "A lot of people have mentioned that the VHS filter in the game makes it hard on the eyes when they watch the video. I guess it brings down the video quality or something. Could you take a look at the game settings and see if it can be turned off?"
"Oh yeah, I saw a lot of complaints about it. Let me see..." You stabilize the light before sitting down on the couch in front of the TV and opening the game.
You spend an unhealthily large portion of your day staring at a screen. Looking at a bigger one makes no difference as it immediately causes a migraine to start taking over, blurring your vision. That may be due to the lack of sleep or the fact that you forgot to drink enough water today, but before you know it or have been able to blink the blurriness away, you've accidentally pressed the left mouse button.
Once you do you come to realize you've made a big mistake.
Horror floods your whole body when you see that the 'continue game' option is now a darker shade, suggesting it is not available. There is no longer a game to continue. You've accidentally deleted all of the progress Matt made the previous time he played the game. It wasn't small either, he'd made it almost halfway through the story.
And you have just deleted all of it. Two hours of gameplay and effort down the drain.
You cover your mouth with trembling hands, tears already starting to form in your eyes.
This catches Ash's concern, "Y/N? What's wrong?" They ask, removing the headset completely so they can get up off their chair and come over to you, squatting down next to you. The worry you see in their eyes only makes the urge to cry worse.
"I....I-I deleted Matt's progress..." You explain in a shaky, mousy voice, a sob racking through your chest when the words reach your own ears.
Had it been any other day, sure, you'd still be upset about it. But not crying level upset. You'd see it as nothing more than an inconvenient hurdle you can easily overcome in a rational way. There's no rationality at play now.
It just happened at a very wrong time. It's nothing more than a small mishap in theory but its timing is feeding into the self-doubt you've been struggling with since exam season started. Academic insecurity and impostor syndrome have been eating away at you all week and now this feel like a confirmation that all those doubts were in fact warranted.
Even though they aren't at all, whatsoever.
"Hey, hey, hey...." Ash doesn't say it but they're relieved. Seeing your reaction without context scared them into thinking the issue was way worse. Still, they can see it's a major deal to you and they respect that. Especially since they've been well aware of how much stress and pressure you've been under. They've been through similar situations and have had similar reactions. They understand you on a personal level. And they'd never let a friend feel that way without doing their best to intervene and comfort them. Which in this case would involve just putting the whole predicament in perspective to show you how miniscule it is. "It's no big deal. Please don't cry, Y/N. We'll fix it." They say, their arm wrapping around your shoulders to give you a tight, reassuring hug you immediately fall into. You've needed nothing more than a hug this whole week and getting it brings you such relief. It provokes even more tears to stream down your face. Turns out, you've also needed a good cry.
"How?" You manage to say through sniffles, "We're starting filming in twenty minutes."
"We'll play a different game. Last minute game switch. It's happened so many times before. Matt doesn't care, he'll have fun regardless. We'll find him something to play, don't worry." Ash explains calmly, letting you start to grasp on how simple this problem is to solve when the panic takes the backseat. "Tomorrow's Saturday so I can just stick around a bit longer after we're done and play up to the point where Matt left off last time."
There's not a moment you're not grateful to have Ash in your life. This is just one of those moments where you also start believing in angels because they have to be one.
"Thank you so much, Ash." You pull away from the hug to wipe your eyes and be able to look at them properly, "But you're not doing it alone. The least I can do is accompany you. I genuinely want to."
Ash shakes their head, "No way, you need to go home and sleep..."
You cut them off with a wave of your hand, "I will. As you said, tomorrow's Saturday. I can sleep in till 3 PM if I want to. I'd want nothing more than to help fix the mistake I made."
Knowing that your resolve is impossible to shake, Ash decides it's best to just sigh and nod and agree. So that's what they do, "Alright, fine." Suddenly, their eyes light up as they get an idea, "We'll make a night out of it! Get snacks and stuff. It'll be great!"
You can't help the smile that brightens up your face as you nod, "I'd love that."
You truly would. There's very few people whose company you enjoy quite like Ash's. You don't know what you did in a past life to deserve a friend like them but you are very certain that everyone needs an Ash in their life. Everyone needs a ray of sunshine like them to part the rainclouds.
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margridarnauds · 2 months
Note
fanfic writer emoji ask: ✍ 🎢 👀
✍ Do you have a beta reader?
For a while, I did, and they were and are great (we have not had a falling out! We are still friends!), but real life kind of got in the way for both of us, and that's fine. Sometimes, I do miss having someone look over my stuff so that I know I don't sound insane, but it's fine.
🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?
I feel like "wildest ride" could mean so many different things. Like, content wise, just on the basis of it existing? ABSOLUTELY A Soft October Night, mainly because I don't think I'd ever gone as far as "Incest Murder Threesome" before. (I will make no promises that I won't do so AGAIN, but it definitely is a shocker from the usual.)
Though this is ALSO from the same creative team that brought you "Romeo has sex with the personification of Death on a crucifix" and "Ronan and Lazare have sex on a printing press" (which seems MUCH tamer compared to the other two), so, really, you can pick your poison.
As far as plot? Either The Midnight Mass or Pour la Peine, depending on if you think "Ronan discovers his old friends are zombies that want to kill him" or "The Thing that happens in Pour la Peine that changes the whole plot" is more shocking. (Personally, I am still REALLY proud of that twist in PLP, since I'd sat on that for years.)
If you're talking about in a crackficky sense? ...I mean. Goosefic. Goosefic. The fic that solidified my reputation in the 1789 fandom. If I say so myself, every single fic I've listed before that has some larger motivation for why it's Like That. Goosefic was just me reading a writing prompt and thinking "I want Lazare to get chased by a pissed off goose." And it is beautiful.
👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!
I don't think it's a SECRET I'm working on writing out my playthrough of BG3, or at least. Key parts of it. (I am NOT. Novelizing. An 125 hour playthrough. Yet.) I have about 11k words into it at the moment, but I'm not publishing a word of it until it's in a place where I know I can very likely finish it, or at least make a dent. We are NOT doing that thing where I just publish one chapter, hit a major bout of writer's block, and can't go through with it. (I can't make any promises for AFTER one chapter.)
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It deals, primarily, with Kitrye's Happy Fun Times in the game, her ongoing verbal game of cat and mouse with Raphael, her relationship with her sister, and her relationship with her culture, as well as her overall development during the course of the game. (I don't really consider it a spoiler, given I put it in an actual gifset, that Kitrye breaks her oath as a paladin at one point -- there is a LOT dedicated to the circumstances around that and how it changes the game, even though that's a late development.) A spoiler that literally only you and a couple of people will understand and so I can give without any worry is:
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"Ich will dich nicht, ich brauch' dich nicht. GEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."
(Honestly, thus far, it's looking like how I'm writing out every act is taking inspiration from something else. Like, if Pour la Peine and its related stories drew a lot of inspiration from the Evilious Chronicles, I would say that the third act in particular is very, very Elisabeth tinted if you know where to look; second act is looking to have at least one scene inspired by a very memorable moment from one of the branches of the Mabinogi; and the first act, which is still the roughest, is a little bit more up in the air, with all of them borrowing at least a LITTLE bit from The Last Trial.)
Of course. It would be much easier to work on it. IF I HAD MY GAMING PC THAT COULD RUN THE GAME SO I COULD DOUBLE CHECK MY FILES. MY CUSTOM MADE GAMING PC THAT I CHOSE EVERY SINGLE PART FOR SO THAT IT COULD BE A MONSTER AT RUNNING GAMES.
(I'm cool, I'm chill, I'm fine.)
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Anyway, have the Symryvvin girls, out of context. (Malla 🤝 Raphael: Being in an eternal state of Done.)
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benjaminthewolf · 2 years
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Postal Dude (Postal/Hatred) Lol
To repeat what I said just one post ago, this is yet another case of me just up and not uploading a trade story until waaaaay after it was already written. 
WARNING: GRAPHIC DIGESTION
****
     Barely even able to hear the sounds of the current open and active battlefield surrounding you through your own terrified gasping and pounding heartbeat, your body almost instinctively makes a sudden desperate attempt to hide yourself away from the line of fire by leaping into the shadows and secluding yourself behind an inconspicuous enough cardboard box.
     Well, okay, it wasn’t exactly that hard to hide yourself, since, well, you were like, the size of a mouse. Regardless though, despite your size, you knew very well that nobody involved here was blind (though some may be somewhat visually impaired. Who knows? It's always possible.), so it never really hurt to be just that much more careful. Plus, you’ve been hiding from the peering eyes of potentially dangerous or just simply too nosy  humans your entire life, so you had plenty of prior expertise on this matter.
     Nonetheless, putting all that aside, the current situation was still terrifyingly deadly as shit, so as you silently shook and spasmed in a huddled up fetal position on the floor behind the cardboard box, all you could do was wait. And thus, wait you did.
     Eventually, as all things do, the shootout came to an end, and at that point, you slowly began to get more comfortable with coming out from behind the box. Risking a peak around the corner, the immediate sight that graced your eyes in those first few seconds almost instinctively made you hurl, but luckily, you managed to suppress your gag reflex for just long enough for the feeling to go away.
     The dead, bloody, massacred bodies of at least five or six police officers were strewn every which way across the floor, the sticky, metallic tang of their red, hemoglobin-infused juices seeping freely out of each and every bullet wound their ravaged bodies had received. And in the middle of this horrific, grotesque scene? One man, standing tall. Standing proud, standing unphased. As to his identity? There could be no mistake. The one who had just been behind this unfathomable, inhumane deed, was in fact the man who’s daily routine consisted of committing at least three of these atrocities before breakfast. That’s right. Postal Dude.
     At first, you were simply too stunned to move. There he was, right in front of you. And yet for all of the horror and shock flooding through your being at the current moment, your body just could not find it anywhere within you to run and save your life.
     “Man…” Postal Dude suddenly speaks up in a casual tone of what almost seemed like contemplation. You wondered for a second if this contemplation was about the shooting, but you almost instantly discarded this thought the moment you had been able to fully process it. There was absolutely  no way that somebody like Postal Dude would ever feel bad in the slightest for a shooting. What the violent man towering over you said next only confirmed your prior suspicions. “...I’m hungry.”
     This sentence was of no initial concern to you, but that lack of concern was quickly flipped all the way round one hundred and eighty degrees when Postal Dude turned his head, tilted it downwards, and made eye contact with you.
     There was now no time to think. No time to wonder if he had known about your presence beforehand. No time to ponder about if he had previously seen you when you first peaked around the box and you just weren’t able to tell because of his sunglasses. There wasn’t even any time to even gasp. No, all there was time to do was watch. Helplessly watch, completely and utterly helplessly watch as Postal Dude almost instantly swooped down and snatched you up in his grasp, a hold so tight to you that it was actually of little to no surprise as to why you couldn’t even gasp. He proceeds to raise himself back up to full height as his hand is brought up to his face, a cocky, overbearing grin creeping its way along his face as he proceeds to raise up his fist even higher. You weren’t really sure what he was doing exactly, that was until he managed to maneuver his fingers so that he was now holding onto the skin at the back of your neck like a momma cat would her kitten. Then, Postal Dude let out a smirk, and opened his maw wide, stretching out his tongue and teasingly going: “Aaaaaaaaa!”.
     Almost instantly spasming in fear as your body began teetering precariously on the fine line between sanity and totally freaking the fuck out, Postal Dude at last let go. Tumbling down through the air, and  desperately trying to not land on his tongue, your efforts would ultimately prove to all be in vain as your flailing body at last squashed down upon a spongey, wet surface that swiftly retreated back into a darker area before said area abruptly closed. Locking you up within its confines, with nowhere else for you to go.
     It didn’t take long before you at last were able to comprehend just what you had landed on and where it had retracted you into. It also didn’t take long before you realized just how stupid an idea it was to try to not land on the tongue, as what was the alternative? The concrete? In all honesty though, you really had no clue which one would have been better, because now that Postal Dude’s jaws had crashed down around you, it didn't’ really matter what options you had had before, because the only option you had now, was to get squeezed through Postal Dude’s upper esophageal sphincter and be squeezed on down towards his stomach.
     Deciding he wanted this to get done sooner rather than later, Postal Dude swiftly lifted up his tongue, causing you to harshly bonk and scrape your head upon the rough ridges at the roof of his mouth before you practically slid back down the slick, slippery slope that was the surface of his tongue, and in towards his gullet. 
     In a sudden spurr of desperately pumping adrenaline, you firmly grasp both hands onto Postal Dude’s uvula, haul yourself up onto it, and hold on tight. However, this did not seem to phase the psychotic, battle-hardened man on the outside in the slightest. Instead of making him throw you up, or spit you out, or anything else of that similar nature, all he did in response to your despairing plight for survival, was just simply, swallow.
     Of course, it would take a lot more than just one gulp to send you down into the esophagus, but Postal Dude was determined to not let this perceived initial success of you not being squelched down instantly make you feel like there was still any hope for survival. Swiftly swallowing again, your hands suddenly begin to slip from their positions on the uvula as its slick, smooth nature makes it exceedingly difficult for you to keep your grip.
     Finally, Postal Dude swallowed one more time, and then, it was over. At last plummeting from your prior position on the uvula, the epiglottis covered up the entrance to the windpipe as the esophagus was left wide open, waiting oh so patiently for you to dive down into its tight, goopy confines, and squeeze you on down to your doom.
     Once your body was all the way within, reality at last hit. As your eyes widen in sudden mortal terror for your very life, you begin to do what little you could within the narrow, constricting area of the esophogas to push and shove with all your might against the squelching tunnel’s hold, begging and praying to yourself that somehow, someway, this would guide you towards survival.
     Unfortunately for you, to Postal Dude on the outside was nothing more than amused by your pathetic, futile resistance. Placing a finger upon the slight, shifting bulge you made in his throat, the sadistic man couldn’t help but let out a bout of hearty laughter at your struggles, that which you were able to hear from the inside, causing your heart to seemingly halt its pumping for but one mere second.
     Speaking of hearts, however, it wouldn’t be long until your anguished wriggling kicked back up as the pounding beat of Postal Dude’s heart at last became audible. At this point, your form had all but disappeared behind the larger man’s collarbone, and as such, all he could do now was just sit back against the brick, alley wall, and wait for the plunge to commence.
     Though you had done pretty much everything in your power to stop it, the ambient gurgles of the stomach began to echo and reverberate all around you as you were squeezed through the lower esophageal sphincter, plunging deep down into the acidic gastric juices of Postal Dude’s stomach with a great big *SPLASH*!
     Able to somewhat feel his stomach juices sloshing around as you splashed down into it, Postal Dude teasingly began to poke at his belly, before giving it a great big slap, causing you to once again tumble over and get your face and eyes soaked even further with the acids.
     Painfully rubbing the searing liquids from your cornea, you immediately began realizing just what was going to happen to you now that you were here. You felt your body spasming. You felt your mind cracking. And then you felt your instincts violently thrust over any other forms of thought that had previously been occupying your brain, practically flinging yourself onto the squishy, pillowy walls of the stomach, pounding and kicking upon them with all of your might while Postal Dude on the outside merely let out a great big laugh.
     “Oh, you really think that you have a chance, don’t you? Any sort of a chance? Any at all? Any kind at fucking all?” he mockingly sneered at your positively overwhelmed, broken form, as the more acids began to trickle in.
     At first, it was just a slight searing pain in your feet as you let out a yelping noise and practically tumbled over, causing you to land backwards into the pool of acids once more. Then, when you lifted your hand out of the churning goop, your heart sank straight into your sole, before at last, you had had enough. Only able to discern but the shocking, dysmaying finality of your current situation and at last somewhat accept that there was absolutely no hope for you left, your brain finally shut down, and your unconscious body plunged back straight into the gurgling, shifting pool, the activity within the organ having ramped up significantly since your arrival. And now that it had no resistance to speak of to work against, the stomach was finally free to churn you into mush.
     Having seen in your final moments that the liquids had already begun to sear off many layers of your skin until they were nothing more than liquid goop, Postal Dude’s stomach continued to glorp and churn as it seeped deeper and deeper into the melted gooey layers of skin that had previously been melted away, in order to get at the fresh ones and succumb them to the same fate. It wouldn’t take long before all of your skin layers were burned through, and the acids began working away at your muscles. Breaking down all the fibrous layerings of your strong, meaty brawn, at long last, there was nothing left for the acids to melt away at than your bones, and the acids began eagerly working at these skeletal remains with nothing but great, unaware indifference as layer after layer of bone exterior continued to melt and liquify away, until at last the acids breached into the spongy cartilage within. Finally, after a few seconds of searing away at the soft inner structure, the acids now had made their way, at long, long last, all the way down to the marrow. With a few gurgles and a growl, the once living, breathing form of your very body that had , once upon a time, held within it all of your love, hate, memories, and experiences, was now reduced to nothing more than goopy pudge that was to be churned up, homogenized, and pumped through Postal Dude’s intestines.
     Ramping up the mixing and shifting of the walls even more, the loose remains of your previous form at last began to crumble away as each gooey body part was broken off from the other while it swirled and shifted around in the homogenizing soup that was Postal Dude’s stomach chyme.
     When at last the mixture was well blended and uniform throughout, the stomach activity at last settled down, and Postal Dude let out a rather satisfied sigh, before all the air that had previously gotten trapped within his guts from all the swallowing he had to do to get you off his uvula at last came up in a great, big belch.
     Giving an asserting, cheeky smile, Postal Dude began to pat and rub over his still-busy stomach, which was currently in the process of churning the cellular slush of what was once you into his small intestine through the duodenum, continuously grumbling and growling as it did.
     Now that the process was over at last, Postal Dude slowly picked himself up off the alley floor, and began to walk out towards the street, with nothing more than a grin on his face, and a meal in his guts.
     “Oh, look at all these sweet, innocent pedestrians.” he began to lament to himself in his head as his tongue began to salivate wildly. “Absolutely no clue, no clue at all! That every single one of them has almost the exact same  potential to be next.”
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ariadnewhitlock · 7 months
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Don't Go to Bars Alone || Owen & Ariadne
TIMING: Very recent, but before the Goo. LOCATION: The Wormhole PARTIES: Owen @apaininyourneck and Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock SUMMARY:  Ariadne tries to go to a bar (The Wormhole), and meets Owen. :/ This is not a slayer she can charm so easily. They talk, and Owen is Owen. CONTENT WARNING: Implication of a creepy coworker of Owen's but nothing happens. Also mentions of alcohol and smoking.
Ariadne had only gone to a bar to prove something. It was the one that Matty had mentioned, ages ago, and even if she didn’t have the combat boots or leather jacket to really fit in, she felt a desperate need to prove (both to herself and to Chance) that she could go out and do wild things, that she wasn’t some scared little mouse. Her dark-wash jean jacket and some non-pastel-colored dress would have to do the job. Plus, if she was going somewhere completely unlike her, she had to dress like she fit in. She wondered if Celene or Inge would be proud of her embracing a darker side of herself. She certainly felt more mare-like. She hoped they’d be proud. If they were, and if Chance was, then that’d make three whole people who she adored and who she looked up to happy.
Which made her happy. Maybe she’d bring Chance back a snack from the bar. If bars did that. Ariadne wasn’t sure, but she figured that was what this all was for.
She at least knew that she wasn’t supposed to knock at the doors of bars. So Ariadne just entered, and was a bit surprised when she wasn’t even carded. Maybe she looked or seemed older than she thought. Which was fascinating, considering even though she was twenty-one, she was also technically still nineteen, in many ways. The thought gave her an unusual boost of confidence and she went up to the bar and ordered something she’d heard Chance mention before. Taking a sip, she glanced around the bar, before one of the men behind the bar was talking to her again. In a way that she did not so much enjoy. Not a total creep, but there was something about him that was unsettling, though Ariadne didn’t know if that was just the alcohol talking. He’d hit on someone else earlier, and it wasn’t in a sweet sort of way. So, emboldened some combination of alcohol and outfit, she followed him out back, fingers tapping against her thigh. “Hey.” She flashed him a smile, somehow grateful for the choice of red lipstick (which she’d bought after Alex had told her to listen to Taylor Swift, because apparently Taylor Swift sometimes wore that). “You - you know you’re supposed to uh, treat people with respect. I - I’m not sure if I -” she continued, tripping over her words. “You’re supposed to be nice.” 
The man scoffed at her, though not before giving her a once over. Which made Ariadne feel all sorts of icky. So she took a few steps forward. She was supposed to practice her skills and abilities, right? That was the only way she’d ever get better? So she offered him a small smile, internally apologizing in her head to Wynne, who was the usual recipient of those smiles. Though, with them, it was never forced. Ariadne shook her head, forcing herself to focus, before she brought her hand up to his forehead and watched him collapse in a heap. 
Being too busy at work was never fun but still, it was preferable to working shifts with Dave. The guy was a smarmy dick, harsh words coming from Owen who could usually pride himself on being both of those things, but his colleague for tonight was just… pathetic. His attempts at flirting had all the grace of a slap to the face and it was a wonder that he hadn’t managed to scare every single female out of the bar by this point. So when the man proudly announced that he was going for a smoke break, Owen was relieved for a moment of reprieve. Had he mentioned that the guy never fucking stopped talking?
Even so, when the five minute break turned into ten and there was still no sign of return, Owen rolled his eyes. The mention of a smoke had gotten him antsy for one as well and ten minutes was overkill to finish off a cigarette. Stupid fucker was probably out there mourning the lack of activity on some dating app. With a sigh that was closer to a grumble than anything else, Owen slapped the bartop and pointed at one of his regulars. “Anyone fucks anything up in the next five minutes, it’s your ass. Keep ‘em in line.” With that, he moved for the back door, ready to tear Dave a new one. 
“Dry your eyes and get inside, fucker. Break time is-” He paused. The distinct crawl of his skin hit Owen at the same time he saw Dave’s useless body crumpled on the floor, where he looked to be… snoring? Stepping outside slowly, he let the door close behind him and spotted who had to be the cause of the tingling down his back. Not a vampire, but something. “Everything alright out here?” he asked slowly, words tinted with suspicion as he took in the girl. She barely looked old enough to be in here, not that their bouncers really cared enough to card anyone. 
Everything alright out here? Ariadne looked up at the man who’d just exited the bar. Well, this certainly wasn’t at all in her plan for the night. “I - uh, yeah!” She chirped, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, wishing she had bubble-gum to pop for the added effect of seeming normal. Normal, and even a bit clueless. Which normally she wouldn’t relish in, but a collapsed sleeping guy next to her meant that all bets of everything else were off.
“He’s - he fell asleep.” Which wasn’t a lie, exactly. “Or like, fell over, I don’t know. He followed me out here, I just wanted a break for - um - something. Smoking!” Which made her involuntarily gag, but she couldn’t take that back now. “Do - why are you out here?” Which was not the best sort of thing to just ask someone, especially someone who very clearly worked or at least fit in at the bar. “I - does that door lock behind you?” Ariadne sighed. “I - I’ll go now, uh, I should go, yeah.”
Owen had met his fair share of liars, some of them decent, others very talented. This young girl was neither, falling over her words in a painful display of innocence. A less suspicious man might have let her go since she didn’t exactly give off vibes of fear and death but Owen knew what she was. Well, sort of. “Yeah, he does follow young girls outside sometimes” he replied with a glance at the snoring man, leaning against the now closed doors, arms crossing. 
“Nah, no need to rush,” he cut in as she started her attempt to run away, pulling out the pack of smokes from his pocket. “I came out here to do the same thing as you. And don’t worry if you forgot yours, I can lend you one.” Obviously not a smoker, her fingers too clean and her nose too scrunched up at merely the thought. Might be fun to see how far she would take the lie, though. “And don’t worry about the door, we can walk in together once we’re finished here.” Whatever that might entail. 
Lighting up one cigarette, Owen passed it to the young girl before lighting another for himself, smoke swirling around her as he watched intently. “So which is it? He fell asleep or he fell over?”
“That’s not very nice to do!” Ariadne nearly squeaked. “The following girls outside thing.” She wanted to shrink into herself, but now was not the time for that. Not if she wanted to hold her own against anyone who worked in that bar. She was, however, going to mention to Matty that maybe this bar wasn’t so much her vibe. No offense, of course, but she just didn’t love it.
And he had cigarettes on him. Great. Ariadne could think of just about every PSA she’d gotten at school, but she was dead anyhow, so would it do her a great deal of harm? If it got the man to ignore her, to realize that she was just clueless and innocent (however much of a lie that might’ve been), she’d deal. “Yeah, I did realize I forgot, and then I thought I’d look so stupid if I went back in, and then back out so I’d love one, yeah.” And about a whole bag of gummy worms when she got home, to get whatever taste would come all out of her mouth. “Good, yeah, we can walk in. Unless – wait, you’re not gonna hit on me, are you?”
She took the cigarette and held it to her lips, the smell making her fight against wrinkling her nose. “He fell asleep and, uh, then he fell over. Like, boom,” Ariadne half dropped her posture, before looking back over to the man. “I dunno what happened. Sorry, I mean, why.” She coughed, involuntarily. “Thanks for the smoke.” Another cough. “I bet he’ll wake up soon, though.”
Owen shrugged in agreement. “Yeah, he’s a fucking dick.” This whole scenario probably would have gone down a lot different if the young girl in front of him wasn’t, Owen had gathered, a mare. No one would ever accuse the slayer of being a pure hearted saint but stalking down very uninterested girls back into an alley definitely crossed his very blurred line of right and wrong. If Dave had been out here harassing someone instead of snoring on the ground, Owen probably would have fucked him up himself. But since the mare had taken care of that herself…
Her sudden worry was understandable, given that she’d just been followed out here, and very ironic considering that was the last thing she needed to be focused on right now. “Please. I like my women to be of at least drinking age, preferably a bit more.” Watching her fumble with the cigarette was amusing in and of itself, face fighting against the instinct to recoil from the smell. The fumbled lie would have been cute, if it hadn’t been delivered by a mare caught red handed. “Hmm. Guess he was just really tired.”
A pause as the girl coughed, body rejecting the cigarette she obviously had no experience smoking, before Owen took a single step towards her. “So, how long you been a mare, then?”
“He does seem to be rather impolite, yes.” She tugged at her hair, trying to find something – anything, really – to do with her hands because of whatever nervousness being here had inspired. 
“Good for you, I guess?” Ariadne scrunched up her face. “Also you’re not my type, either. I prefer people with – well, who don’t – who have kinder smiles.” That was the most she could manage right now, as far as retorts went. It wasn’t good, even she could tell that, but she certainly didn’t have anything more eloquent or, realistically, better in any sort of way whatsoever. 
“Yes. Really tired. There’s stuff that can make you just collapse, I think.”
Ariadne felt tense, itchy all over. She really was the worst at lying, wasn’t she?
She’d figured she could find some sort of excuse to leave, because she didn’t need or want to go back into the bar, but then the strange tall man asked her something that made her stop cold in her tracks (if she had been in a more humorous mood, she would’ve found the fact that someone like her who was cold all the time couldn’t stop anything but cold). “What? I – how – just over a year.” Ariadne settled her gaze on him. “If I was one, which I’m not saying I am, so…”
This small talk, fueled by panic on one side and curiosity on the other, was humorous but getting a bit old. Owen didn’t have the slightest interest in knowing the young girl’s type, whether it was kind smiles or goddamn tentacles. 
The most interesting question of all garnered what had to be the only honest answer Owen had received this evening. Of course the girl backtracked, but it was done with the same level of expertise as the night’s previous lies, that was to say, zero. The how was interesting to hear - had she never encountered a slayer before? A decent feat if she really had been around like this for more than a year. 
With a sigh, Owen took yet another step to close the distance between them, whipping out a knife from his jacket in a fluid motion. Good thing he’d grabbed it before the smoke break. “I don’t like being lied to,” he said sweetly, knife held down by his side, for now. “So why don’t you tell me what really happened to the snoring shitstain over there and then I can get back to work?”
Ariadne tensed up as Owen took another step toward her. She didn’t like the way he looked at her, or the way his voice sounded. That was a mean sort of thing to think, but she thought it nonetheless. 
Her eyes shot straight to the knife as he pulled it out of his jacket. A curse and a blessing that she had perfect eyesight at nighttime, though Ariadne liked to figure that even if she hadn’t, the knife would’ve still been pretty much entirely visible. 
“I - he fell asleep, okay?” She snapped, more than she would’ve liked. “He – I —” the man knew what she was, and even though Ariadne had never been all too good at guessing games, she had to figure that this also meant that he might’ve at least had a hunch about what she could do. “Fine. I made him fall asleep because I was uncomfortable.” She shrugged, still halfway folding into herself. “I didn’t hurt him, and I’d really really like to leave now.”
Large eyes focused on the knife, obviously, and as so many times before, it was a foolproof way to get anyone talking. Some people required a bit more persuasion and Owen was never hesitant to provide that but the young girl didn’t seem very experienced with all of this. Hadn’t built up a fixed attitude towards slayers. At first lies poured out, words tinted with anger that the slayer honestly hadn’t expected given how this whole conversation had gone so far. Finally though, the glint of a knife worked its magic. 
“Mm, you didn’t hurt him, true,” Owen mused, the distance between them shrinking further. Playing with the knife in his hand, not brandishing it at the mare quite yet, he finally stared her down fully. “But you have hurt people before, I bet. With your freaky little nightmare powers?” There wasn’t really a purpose to this and the girl didn’t really look dangerous but Owen knew that appearances could be deceiving. What kind of a slayer would he be if he didn’t fully assess the danger before deciding whether or not the mare could go on her merry way?
She wasn’t going to cry. Even if this tall grumpy man knew just what she was, and that she had hurt someone. “I – no. I – I don’t hurt people. I don’t like to hurt people. Ever. It’s – I swear.” Ariadne very much doubted that she was proving anything to this man, but now that she was going, she found it exceptionally difficult to put a pause. 
He made her feel tiny. Both of her parents were on the taller side, and she’d gotten that from them, but Ariadne had always figured that she didn’t hold her height nearly as successfully as they did. Though there were a whole heck of a lot of things that she didn’t do as well as they did.
“I won’t tell anybody at all that you brought a knife to work, I just – will be going.” She took a step to the side, toward the street. “Why would you say I hurt somebody? I know – my powers are bad, but I don’t think that’s something a knife can fix.” Ariadne’s eyes narrowed. “So like, stop? Okay??”
It was never really as fun dealing with these kinds, the ones whose necks constricted in an attempt not to cry, who pretended to be strong while lying through their teeth about their nature. Owen much preferred the monsters who bit back, screamed and shouted and fought for their vile way of living. At least right up until the end when they begged for mercy instead. “Ever?” he pushed sarcastically, cocking his head. “You’d be dead if you didn’t feed and I think I already told you I don’t like being lied to.”
Her step towards the street was mirrored by Owen, easily blocking the young girl’s way out. They weren’t finished. “I don’t know, kinda hard to give people nightmares that might kill them when you’ve met the business end of a knife,” he mused, holding the knife higher to drive the point across, dim lights glinting off the blade. “If it’s my job to get rid off things like you, why should I stop?”
“I’m – I don’t – I have to feed yes but I try to do it so that I hurt people the least possible.” Ariadne sighed, “people’ve told me that it doesn’t really hurt. That it’s just a part of what already naturally happens so… like… I might as well.” It sounded like a lie to her, too, as much as she didn’t want it to. As much as she wanted to believe Inge or Leila and tell herself that she wasn’t some sort of freakish abomination. “I’m not trying to lie.”
He wasn’t the sort of person she would’ve been friends with in high school. Even though she was pretty sure they wouldn’t have even been there at the same time because he looked older, and not in a nice big brother way. The thoughts, of course, made Ariadne feel horrible, and so she frowned at him. “That’s a - uh - weird thing to get paid for, and you should stop because I said please.” She took what must have been only a millisecond of distraction to dart around him, in an attempt to get away.
She was meek, frightened and hiding behind excuses that honestly, Owen believed. This wasn’t your regular undead playing coy, feigning innocence but rather, a young girl who actually didn’t want to hurt anyone. Shame she was what she was, then. Not that it was his problem and he didn’t exactly take pity on her for it, but he did take her word that she wasn’t trying to lie. 
The sudden movement was unexpected since she had so far been working with panicked talking and ‘freezing’, so flight wasn’t something he had prepared for. Of course, his only response to anything sudden was, and always had been, fight. As the much smaller form tried to slip around him, Owen’s blade struck, not aiming to kill at the moment but definitely to incapacitate. It slipped into the girl’s side with ease before retracting, now coated in something shiny. It took a second for him to recall why the fuck before a distant bit of knowledge popped up, about the energy or whatever mares had instead of blood. “Gross,” he muttered, much preferring actual blood or the clean and simple dust vampires at least had the decency to turn into. 
She tensed up when the knife entered her side, looking over at the man with wide eyes, ones that she hoped said, why would you do this? 
He called it gross and even if she found the glitter somewhat beautiful, sometimes, Ariadne couldn’t help but agree with him. She was something gross, and her hand found the cut on her side quickly, hoping that it wouldn’t have done too much to damage her, but unsure, considering she hadn’t actually ever been stabbed before. “Why did you –?” She backed away from him. “That was very mean.”
Which was a given, at least to her, though Ariadne wasn’t sure if it was just as obvious to her companion. “You could’ve just left me alone. I was just leaving.” She didn’t like how much she whined. “Your friend is fine. I didn’t feed from him.” Ariadne took another few steps away for good measure, before squeezing her eyes shut, picturing her bedroom, and projecting away.
Inge would be proud, she was certain.
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All right. Time out.
With Velma now at five romantic interests, it's time to start narrowing the playing field a little, at least temporarily.
That's right! It's time for me to humbly request that a few kind souls help me pick
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I have put together a survey of the men of Elmira City, categorized into two groups, main contenders and long shots. The main contenders follow beneath the cut.
(Note that in many if not MOST of these stupid pictures, I've left the mouse pointer hovered over the dude's clothing in CAS, making it appear lighter and more translucent and just generally funny-looking, you know how it does? That's the kind of ineptitude I bring to the table, yeah. I'm sorry about that.)
Main Contenders
Andy Oswald
Velma's first, and certainly one she was, ah, proud to share with the wider world. Andy's a Natural Cook working in the culinary career and if he looks familiar, that's because I'm pretty sure all I did here was download u/Timely_Emotion9259's base Sim, Alex Howard, add freckles, and make his hair red.
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Velma hasn't really kept up with Andy since then, but he lives just next door to her at 71 Calypso Street, so she could always pick things up where she left off.
Marco Chavez
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A family-oriented virtuoso currently managing a dark-wave band, Marco is very into Velma, and in her own weird, semi-detached way, Velma is very into Marco. The problem wouldn't be getting her knocked up by him--the problem would be keeping Marco from trying to take up permanent residence in her life afterwards.
Ian Rudd
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Yet another musician! In contrast to Marco, Ian's a lot better about taking Velma as she comes, and not trying to slut-shame her into bourgeois decency. In fact, I like everything about Ian except... his genes. They're pretty much identical to Velma's: Black hair, blue-green eyes. Then again, that's not the worst combination.
Evan St. Germain
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I almost put Evan in the long shot category, because when I last checked on him, homie was sporting a -50 Betrayed moodlet over Velma. Dude, you can't claim exclusive rights to a person you just met that day!
On the other hand, Evan has a point about the need to be careful with the feelings of others and, although Ian describes Evan as thin-skinned, Ian may have had an ulterior motive in doing that (that ulterior motive being, essentially, Velma).
Evan and Velma were getting along famously right up until that trip to the park. Can this relationship be repaired/saved long enough for Velma to birth Evan's baby? But what will that do to Evan's feelings? 😨
Victor Bradley
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The latest notch in Velma's hot pink belt, Victor's life's dream is to become a Star News Anchor. He's a bookworm like Velma, so they have that in common. Their relationship, such as it is, is too new for me to have much insight into it. I did catch him making the bed, so he either has the Neat trait or the Perfectionist one. I'm very cool with either.
He is shown here in his formal wear because I found him out clubbing, and was too lazy to switch tabs in CAS to his regular, everyday outfit.
Similar genetics issue to Ian Rudd, although I think Victor's eye color is at least different.
Next: The long shots!
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aromanticbuck · 2 years
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I thought I would be okay with leaving these questions in the tags but I'm not I wanna know!! It's okay though if it would be spoilers for the fic you plan to write to totally ignore my questions, lol.
[ original post ] [ tags: #now I wanna know HOW mouse got a hold of Jay's shirt #did Jay give it to him? #did he steal it from Jay at some point and just keeps it at the station? #does jay keep multiple of the same shirt at work and just let mouse borrow his extra? #also #does jay have feels about watching mouse in his shirt? #i would #for sure ]
Honestly, I almost got my laptop back out last night to copy these exact tags into a post and write another essay, and then I decided I would be more coherent and articulate if I waited until I got some rest. So... here we are.
The short answer is I don't know. I haven't thought about the headcanon that it is Jay's shirt that hard. At least not in the context of canon. (I have two fics I want to write, eventually, one about Mouse's sluttiness specifically set in s4, and one about Jay's jealousy specifically about the shirt in 3x11, and only the Mouse-focused one is canon compliant) (and honestly I'll happily talk about either of them there are very few fics I don't like spoiling before I write them, these are not among those)
The long answer is... another essay.
Warnings: brief implications of sex
To start off, gray shirt Jay's shirt, when it shows up, is never the same day as the shirt Mouse was wearing before. In 3x11, we see Jay and the rest of the team go undercover at a party one night, and then Mouse is wearing the gray shirt the next day. In 4x05, the scene where Mouse wears the gray shirt is the deleted goodbye party scene, which could be anywhere from the next day to a week or so later. I assume he left pretty soon after that (I usually say the next morning when I'm writing it into fic) and they didn't just have these emotional goodbyes and then go on with life as usual for a few days after that? Canon timeline never makes sense so who knows.
But that implies that he came into work wearing it in 3x11, or else he would have just gotten it from Jay's locker the first day, not the next day when he reasonably would have had his own closet to pull from. Unless he went out and got laid again which... would track for Mouse. But it also means that he showed up at the party in Jay's shirt, because he would have had no reason to change in the bathroom at Molly's regardless of where he had been before that. The only people there are people he's known for a year+ or total strangers who probably don't care about his life. So he just... has Jay's shirt. And there's... what? ~9 months between 3x11 and 4x05?
Assuming they take place around when they aired, I mean. So January-October 2016. And he had the shirt before that if he showed up to work in it. With an exception for my future Jay's Jealousy fic because that's... that's how Mouse gets the shirt.
That's Mouse's shirt, now. Jay's never getting it back. I think he knew that the moment Mouse wore it the first time, whenever that was. I'm personally leaning toward 2011/2012 when Mouse was On His Own for the first time and kind of scrambling just to keep his crappy apartment, let alone have food and warm clothes. So it probably started as a loan, and then Mouse wore it so rarely (because it's Jay's shirt he's gonna take good care of it) that he never remembered to ask for it back, and now it's Mouse's emotional support Jay's Shirt so he's never gonna return it. Jay's kindness manifested a comfort item and that's on him. That or Mouse was crashing on his couch at one point and needed to borrow something and just. Stole it. Which is very funny.
How does Jay feel about this? Jay Halstead? Possessive if you let him be? Would probably growl in real life if he met any of the guys that Mouse has hooked up with? He absolutely feels feelings about Mouse in his shirt. He has marked his territory with that shirt and he's very proud of that fact. That is his best friend and everyone else can back off. Especially in the context of Mouse still wearing his shirt repeatedly after wearing things that belonged to other people? Yeah, that's still His Person and he knows it and he'd never say it but he loves it.
And, to be just a little bit sad...
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He's actively wearing Jay's shirt during their goodbye hug. Which means Mouse definitely took that shirt, and therefore a little piece of his best friend, with him when he left.
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hermitcatlongposts · 1 year
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What is this game?
I mean it is a video game indeed. What does it really mean to me? What does this game stand for? Why is it being made at all?
What I'm about to say next is gonna be so hazardously cliche that you might wanna brace yourself. The journey of developing this game was a journey of self discovery. Yes I too am cringing at what I said. But not self discovery as in oh I didn't know who I was and now I suddenly do. I always knew who I was since young age. It's discovery of how intense the "who I am"-ness goes. In fact, someone more sane and reasonable than me would say it's so much that it's counterproductive.
I actually did talk about a platformer game I used to work on like a year ago at SubscribeStar. I gave up on it because I was making it just because I was told by my environment at the time that it's the best route for beginners. I like neither "minimalist" graphics nor platformer genre. Also making vector art was so painful for me.
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So the significance of my current touhou clone project is that I said fuck you to "minimalist" vector art and started drawing normal, raster art with my mouse. Drawing with mouse was of course equally painful but the difference was that I tapped into my dormant passion for art, like not just a general loose definition of art such as banana taped on wall, but specifically "moving my hands around and laying pigment on a canvas". Digital equivalent, of course. Shortly followed by buying a drawing tablet.
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So what this game initially was going to be was just a prototype purely for the sake of learning the ways of programming a bullet hell and a complete game (as opposed to gamejam). But the jagginess of a mouse drawn sprites were just too unbearably and physically painful to look at and it was nothing less than a necessity to redraw with my beloved drawing tablet so at least it'll have smooth edges, easy on the eyes.
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hey, amazing opportunity to have a look at old artworks
But, even after all these years of being a game developer I was still hilariously naive. Technically the first game I ever made was in fucking 2015. The first one to be uploaded on the internet was in 2017. It's unbelievable how I still thought foolishly like "Oh yeah I can finish this game in just 3 months. Ha, see ya soon as a proud developer of a released title."
Anyways, the point is that after such a long time of working on it, I suddenly couldn't see myself just throwing it away as a prototype intended for no one to seriously play it. So the game evolved into "at least a proper game". Which was actually a great decision because, I could release an utterly bare bone prototype that only just serves to have the core idea of a bullet hell touhou clone in terms of programming. But if I did that, I would spend ten years on my second project because that would-be prototype is still nowhere near enough of a programming school. What I didn't realize in the past is how enormous the difference between just spewing out prototype code and meticulously developing a full game with all little mini-mechanics and mini-systems working in harmony. So by spending more time on my first project, I will be spending less time on my second.
I thought that's what the game was gonna be. Just a nice and proper game that I won't feel any shame about purposefully making it garbage like I was originally planning to. Someone sane might say that would be very reasonable place to stop but here comes the part where I expand upon what I said at the beginning about it being a journey of realization of the depths of my personality coming at a detriment of productivity, as in how fast I produce products.
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You know how the dress of my player character looks. It's a reference to that platformer game. I am a craftsman through and through (please don't take it as I'm jerking my own dick, I'm just trying to communicate myself clearly). I have emotional connection to my creations for I see them as something that is real and has meaning. I'm not a producer pumping out products on a conveyor belt feeding the bottomless vortex of consumerism. So instead of completely cutting that old platformer game out of my life like it was nothing at all, I decided to pay homage to it as elements in my current game. Basically an easter egg that only extremely few, like 2 or 3 people will recognize. Although it was abandoned for legitimate reasons, I respect it as my first attempt at serious, non-gamejam game. And I immortalize it's legacy this way.
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You might remember this flipping tile thing was actually made long ago. But instead of having just a random nothing as a texture, I made it a throwback to one of the key elements of Square Heart (the name of the platformer game, btw), the iconic blue crates and outlines that light up when the player walks over them. Btw the loading is intentionally slowed down to show the spinning border lights more clearly. It doesn't load that slowly in reality lol. Wait, that means players are not gonna really see the thing I spent so much time making...
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This is how the player would respawn. Just pop right back up. I mean there is nothing wrong with it. It's a classic animation in all the arcade shooter games.
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What I decided to do however is a throwback to how the player character of SquareHeart respawned.
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This one is gonna appear in only one of the 5 stages because only one has a night sky. This is the iconic minimalist gradient trees that I tried so hard in SquareHeart to be the main attraction. I actually always planned to have no background at all in this game for the sake of not getting way too ridiculously ahead of myself for a first game. Just plop down the skybox I found on the Unity Asset Store. Now that I decided to do this in one of the stages, I have pushed the standard so I have to figure out something for other stages as well. Also the speeding up you see is not the default but just a short section. Inspired by stage 4 of Touhou 8: Imperishable Night, where the boss tries to run away mid-fight and you chase after them. "Chasing" as in just the background scrolling faster, nothing else really.
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The bomb, or what's modernly referred to as SpellCard of the player is a legacy that's actually truly lost. Long long ago in 2019, there was an ancestral version of SquareHeart that featured a cutscene that focuses on this circle flower-like talisman thingy. Literally only one person might remember it besides myself.
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This one is not part of the SquareHeart. But if you remember, before I actually started to draw, the player character of my bullet hell was a vector art butterfly. In fact, it all started from a game-jam I wrote a blogpost about right here on Tumblr a long time ago. In fact, if I remember correctly that blogpost is the very reason why I created a Tumblr account to begin with. So this butterfly too won't be forgotten. It's now on the other side as a mini-boss. And every other stages will also have butterflies of different design as their mini-bosses.
And, yeah et cetera. There is actually at least one more easter egg to make but I'm yet to come to a final design decision.
I want this game to be actually something more than "just a proper game for the sake of being a proper game", let alone a throwaway prototype. I want this game to have an actual self to stand solid and have meaning to me. And that meaning is that it's the first step of my journey as an artist ("art" as in a form of indie games, not just visual illustration) but also a rightful payment of respect to my first step as just game developer in general. The past should be put to rest respectfully so the future shall flourish in full force.
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purplesurveys · 1 month
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1849
Who are you most nervous about introducing potential significant others to?  I'd go with my parents, although I've never done this with them ever; and Angela, just because she's my biggest confidante and next to my parents she is always The First One to know everything going on in my life.
What was the most important non-academic thing you learned in high school?  That 'fake it until you make it' is legit advice, even though I found and still find it to an extent shady. It was helpful in finally fitting in in high school, and has saved me a million times at work where I need to be an extrovert 24/7. At its core I detest the idea of having to project a certain image of yourself for certain situations, but at the same it's just something I need to grind through lest I get left behind.
Have you ever had a job that deeply affected your personal life? How so and do you still work there?  Yeah. My work is my life. It's all I think about, and even though I have been better at setting boundaries I still am largely known by my peers now by what I do. On a personal level, I honestly still don't know what to make of that; it is just what it is.
Do you have a “one who got away”?  No.
If you were in a superhero movie, would you be the hero or the villain? I'd be one of the citizens scrambling to get away.
If you found a mouse in your house, would you be frightened?  100%.
Have you ever tried to perform magic tricks?  I can do some silly illusions with my hands/fingers. I haven't really tried anything beyond that.
Can you do more with a yo-yo than just “go up and down”? Nope.
What is one form of technology that you wouldn’t be able to live without?  Imagining life without the internet at this age just seems insane. It's grown to become part of nearly everything we do, so the idea of becoming disconnected from everything and everyone feels kind of freaky tbh.
Did you get an allowance, growing up? Why or why not?  I started getting allowances in high school – I was given P100 for recess and lunch, but given that I had finally just started making friends and didn't want to miss out on cool high school parties and soirees and shit, I used to skip meals and instead gather my allowances to be able to go out during weekends (because otherwise my parents didn't usually give me hanging-out money). Definitely an unhealthy and a very stupid way to go about it in retrospect, considering it led to me feeling lightheaded throughout high school.
In college my allowance increased to P2,000 a week so I could cover gas and food.
Would you rather go to a water park or an amusement park? Why?  Amusement park, even though I can't go on rides. At least there's lots of yummy and sinful food options haha. Water parks just feel so much more unsanitary to me.
What is one instrument you wouldn’t mind learning how to play?  Piano.
What’s the longest amount of time you’ve had to wait in line for something?  I was at the LTO for 7 hours because apparently it takes that look to print out a driver's fucking license in the Philippines. I also waited the same amount of time for Seventeen, but to be fair the only reason we arrived at 12 PM for a 7 PM concert is if we left any later than that, we were going to be stuck in traffic with the rest of the late concertgoers and risk missing a chunk of the show.
What is something that you would like to learn more about?  I would love to take a wrestling class, just for fun and just to get to experience it once. I put my pro wrestler dreams to rest as soon as I made them because I knew I was never going to be physically cut out for it; but it'd be cool to take even just one session to learn the most basic of basics – taking bumps, doing rolls, running the ropes.
What is something that one of your family member collects?  My mom collects anything related to chefs - mostly figurines - as my dad is one and she has always been very proud of that. My dad used to collect Top Gear magazines and had every single issue until they stopped publishing physical copies.
Have you ever moved to a new school before? If so, how did it feel?  I mean, yes, but only because there was no college in my first school – and even if they did it wouldn't have been my choice to enroll there for university anyway. I went to the same school from kinder to high school, then attended my dream university for college; so, really, only changed schools once and it was out of necessity.
Have you ever legitimately forgotten to do homework?  Yes.
Do you enjoy autumn leaves or spring flowers more? Why?  I can't relate.
Depending on where you live, why might a day of school get canceled? Typhoons, or extremely high temperatures which is what is happening now. Kids today are very fortunate for that, whereas my generation hadddddd to power through the summer weather (it was worse for my school since we were one of the few private schools that didn't have aircon).
If you could meet any fictional character from a book, who would it be? Alice Cullen. Or Carlisle hehe.
What are some common places that people tour when they come to your city?  There is a well-known art museum here. Apart from that, I guess just the gazillion cafés we have.
What’s one food that you did not enjoy as a child, but do as an adult?  Curry. Dreaded it every time I smelled my grandma making it, now it'd kill me to miss out on curry – any kind of curry hahaha. Indian cuisine in general has grown to be my favorite type.
Would you rather have a mermaid tail, a fairy’s wings or a unicorn’s horn? I'd take the wings cause it'd be cute to be able to fly!
What is an animal that you’d like to have as a pet but it’s not allowed?  No way.
What are some things that you do to make the world a better place?  I look people in the eye, smile, and say thanks if they hold the door open for me.
Has the last person you had sex with ever had sex with someone besides you?  I'm most definitely certain that she since has. It's been four years.
What’s your favorite store at your mall?  I just go to the local K-pop stores lol. I hardly shop, and if I'm at the mall it's like 99.9% to eat out.
Have you ever done a workout DVD?  No.
Who usually takes out the trash in your family?  My mom or sister. We'll sometimes alternate, me and my sister.
What song are you currently obsessed with?  Together by Seventeen is a BEAUTIFUL song. Absolutely obsessing over it these days.
When you go fishing, do you make someone else get the fish off the hook?  I've never gone fishing.
Do you take any prescription meds?  Nope.
What happens if you don’t take them? 
Who was the last person you dreamt about?  I hardly remember my dreams.
Do you prefer your tea sweetened or unsweetened?  Sweetened.
Do you have any children? If so, names and ages? I do not.
Have your parents ever witnessed you doing something inappropriate? What?  I don't think so, at least not to my recollection.
Did you get babysat a lot as a kid?  No. My cousins and I raised each other and that was all the babysitting we ever needed haha.
Are you doing anything fun tomorrow?  Tomorrow is technically Monday, so there's nothing that'll be happening other than me going back to work. Today's my birthday though so all the fun stuff will be happening today – we have a dinner reservation at my favorite buffet and I'm really excited for that!
What is something you’d like to receive as a housewarming gift?  Wine. Hahaha.
How old were you when you first experienced the effects of puberty?  I mean I was barely 10 when I got my first period, so let's go with that.
What is your least favorite holiday, and why?  Chinese New Year, for political reasons.
Are cemeteries peaceful to you, or do they freak you out?  Serene and peaceful. Not only are those places filled wih a million stories, memories, and experiences of real people; but it's heartwarming getting to see the little trinkets and gifts that people leave their deceased.
We went to visit my grandpa last Sunday and I was touched seeing a letter pinned to a woman's columbary cell – it was a letter obviously written by her granddaughter, and seeing the clumsy handwriting... all just felt very human to me, if that mkes sense. Being in cemeteries or similar places evokes a sense of calm for me.
Has anyone close to you ever gone to war?  Nope.
Have you ever experienced altitude sickness?  No. In what is a shock even to me, I manage boat and plane rides well. It's car rides I always seem to be terrible at.
Is there anything, any event, you wish you could remember more clearly?  My Paramore concert in 2013, only because I spent the damn concert watching through my camera. It was my first concert so I didn't know any better – but anyway, lessons were learned, I never did it again, and for all concerts that followed I only have a handful of photos/videos from them because I've since spent of the time living in the moment instead.
If you had to get advice from someone of the opposite sex, who would you go to?  Hans.
What was the last new food/drink that you tried?  I tried the barbecue chicken sandwich from Popeye's because apparently they're doing this flavors of the world thing where they have variants for UK (barbecue), Korea (gochujang), US (spicy chicken)...you get the drill. It was delicious but I thought the barbecue sauce was a tad bit overpowering. I'd get a less-saucier one next time.
Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better?  I mean it's my birthday today so it'd be hard to imagine this day going south haha. We'll see; it's only 1:30 in the morning.
Have you ever played Sudoku?  No I never understood how it works hahaha.
Do you ever take surveys for money?  I once tried to go for that, but for context: It was the peak of COVID, absolutely no one went out, I was a fresh grad, my parents (who are both in the hospitality industry) were just as jobless as I was, and money in the house was depleting at an alarming rate. I was desperate to help as much as I can, so much so that I had to consider that making-moneys-through-surveys thing. It never amounted to anything because I was never qualified for most of the surveys available anyway.
Thank FUCK we have since gotten out of that rut. I've blocked out most things from 2020 because of what we as a family went through.
Do you like Barbie or Bratz better?  Bratz was popular as fuck when I was a kid.
Do you prefer purple or green grapes?  Neither.
Who was the last person that made you laugh?  My sister.
Where does your best friend live?  In a nearby city.
Who did you last confide in?  Trina.
Does your car have an alarm?  Like...an alarm clock? No? Lol. It does go off if hit too hard while locked, though, if that's the kind of alarm you mean.
Where was your mom born?  Just...somewhere in the metro, I'm not about to give that kind of stuff away.
What can always make you feel better no matter what?  MY DOGS
What is something you’ll never eat again? Why?  Apart from fruits, I was never the type to shun any kind of food.
What is currently happening that is scaring you?  Just...time. The natural course of aging. Not because it's my birthday, but the passage of time is just something I think about more and more now. My high school peers getting married and having kids, my parents getting older, my grandparents getting older...it is what it is and it's constantly in my head.
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lookwhatilost · 1 year
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the fundamental flaw with the sacrificial trash hypothesis of media discourse is that it falls into the same psychological bias that conversations about media representation always do. because people tend to have more of an emotional attachment to television and movies, they're generally less willing to see them for what they are (a product that exists to be sold to you) and overvalue the "art" element of it. but the art bit of it has an inverse correlation with how much money is backing something.
so "sacrificial trash" works for something like high guardian spice, where the budget was clearly ten green beans and a box of baking soda. but it falls apart completely if we're talking about something that's being produced by aol-time warner-pepsico-viacom-halliburton-skynet-toyota-trader joe's, also known as disney. rewatch the force awakens and be disappointed to realize that it was very clearly designed for people to react to it in the exact way they did.
i won't spend another three hours bitching about it – which, i'm not proud of, but it needed to happen – so i'll just self-plagiarize and pull from that rant:
They definitely leaned into the showboating with the marketing for the next two movies, too. “Actually, this movie is very diverse, and it’s queer, and it’s feminist, and you’re one of the chuds if you don’t like it, and you have to like it, and if you don’t, you don’t want women to have fun. You don’t want women to enjoy Star Wars.”
It’s crazy how effective this was as a marketing tool for a while. I feel like the efficacy of that may be waning now – maybe – but it worked for a few years. People have caught onto it, I think, but it drove me mental because I knew right away it was that shit. It was so obvious to me, and seeing other people buy into it kind of drove me insane. And it was hard to talk about it, because if you dude, people would be like “there’s another purist who’s just mad that they put a woman in a star war”. This was an era of people just responding to the threat of an ideological straw man. The whole thesis of the essay I linked earlier was Kylo Ren as a surrogate for the kind of people who were really pissed off that this movie was led by a woman and two men of color and being like “this is SJW propaganda”. It’s, like, you’re so caught up in that discourse and dialogue, it never occurs to you to take a step back and consider the business side and capitalist implications of Disney acquiring the Star Wars franchise and this was all a business and being run for profit. Why this stuff is there is purely to get people to go buy the product.
[...]
It’s the same thing for me with [Marvel] and the high budget cinematic universe stuff, people still interpret it like it’s art being made by people at least halfway, and never ever look at it as a product like you would a Ford pickup truck. We need to get better about this as a whole: looking at these things first and foremost as industrial products. Iron Man was a turning point for the blockbuster movie landscape that got us where we are now, but just as important, if not more fateful to where we are now, is Disney’s acquisition of Lucasfilm. We live under the Mouse Monopoly and it sucks. It’s brutal. The people who were pissed off and worried when Disney bought the Star Wars franchise were completely justified and vindicated in the wake of the completion of the sequel trilogy.
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So funny story. I finished the fic, and then realized I never made my live updates, so here's a condensed version of my feelings.
DISCLAIMER
I have been informed by some of a sort of icky feeling they get from the concept of a Sirius/Hermione relationship, even with the time travel aspects. Which I completely get, and some part of me feels a little conflicted about it, because despite the fact that she doesn't know the extent of their relationship (either her and Remus or her and Sirius), they were well aware. So disclaimer to those that have yet to read A Debt of Time: if the idea of time travel and age-gaps in relationships (granted they did start these relationships while still the same age, technically) is a bit on the ick side, maybe don't read it, or at least take caution. Of course, none of this is in anyway taking a shot at or discrediting some of the amazing work ShayaLonnie did. But outside of this disclaimer, let's get into the real stuff.
I'd like to preface this with one word. Wow.
150ish chapters of pure joy and heartbreak. ShayaLonnie's writing style is phenomenal, especially when paired with the Debt of Time playlist I found on Spotify, which allowed me to delve further into each chapter, as I am very auditorially inclined (despite being 50% deaf). My biggest regret is having not read this fic sooner. I had never really seen the sort of well written chemistry I found in those pages. Remus/Hermione are possibly one of my favorite pairings, just because of the understanding they have for each other. And Sirius/Hermione? A work of art. They play perfectly as foils for each other in this fic, and a relationship I originally doubted would work has become my new favorite Hermione pairing. The headstrong Heir of Black and his perfectly cunning partner. And don't get me started on the author's characterization skills. Hermione had, before this, almost seemed sort of flat to me, which makes me feel bad to say, as she was one of the best representations of myself in the media I consumed. But here, the two sides of Hermione/Mia perfectly contrast as well as compliment each other. And after Mia comes back from the 70s, she has taken both sides of herself and made perfection. The scene in the Wizengamot is now my favorite thing I've ever read. Mia and her boys (both past and present) really showed out in an incredibly powerful scene. I could only imagine poor Kingsley just standing there, watching the constant cat and mouse game the two sides of the Wizengamot played. Truly an exemplary piece of literature.
I'm an incredibly emotionally driven person, so I won't lie and say i didn't cry through much of this. From the death of lovely Dorea and Hope, to Mia comforting Sirius after Regulus sacrificed himself, and finally to the painful countdown leading up to the end of Mia Potter in 1979, I was constantly tear stained. And it only became more so in the end, with the toast to all those lost. Charlus and Dorea I think, would be so proud of all their children, and the grandchildren after.
Overall, this has been an exceptional piece of literature to read, and I will likely find myself reading this fic again and again. For this, I'll give it a 9/10
~South
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red-doll-face · 3 years
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Hi! May I request to the Dbd killer's reaction to s/o slapping their booty headcanon?
Ooh sounds exciting! I hope you’re okay with how these are formatted, I’m just glad to finally be back on the writing horse, I was so busy with school. Finals are over tho so back on my bs 😪 I only did killers I like conceptually sorry
DBD killers x gn Reader smacking their ass
Evan ‘The Trapper’ Macmillan
Acts annoyed. Raises a brow at you, looking completely unimpressed. The type to use that as an invitation to slap you on your ass and pretend like he didn't do anything. Hey, you did it first, don’t look at him.
Philip ‘The Wraith’ Ojomo
High Pitched little scream. Whips around to face you, feeling like a scandalized old lady. Rubs his butt a little. How could you? He trusted you! Waiting in fear that you’ll do it again.
Michael ‘The Shape’ Myers
No visible reaction but his eyes widened behind his mask. You must be good to catch him off guard. Almost proud. Turns around very slowly and stares. That's your cue to run. He’s comin for that ass.
Herman ‘The Doctor’ Carter
Laughs. Turns around really fast and just does it back. Except twice as hard and with the zing of his electric shock. Laughs at the little noises and screams you make. Don’t start none, won’t be none.
Anna ‘The Huntress’
Gasps out in surprise. Turns around with a smirk on her face. Oh, you like her ass? She likes yours too. Man handles you into bending over her lap. Overkill on her payback.
Bubba ‘The Cannibal’ Sawyer
Squeals much louder than usual. He’s so confused. Did he do something wrong? He associates spanking with punishment. If you explain it’s because you think his butt is cute he’s gonna smack yours too.
Amanda ‘The Pig’ Young
Gets mad. Really? Her ass? Scoffs and flips you off. She’ll wait until you’re not paying attention to smack your ass so hard, probably has like some weird bdsm toy to do it with too, just to make you understand who's in charge here.
Kazan ‘The Oni’ Yamaoka
Kazan is a little surprised. It’s like a mouse attacking a lion. Why would you start this with him? Will need an explanation, afterwards nodding solemnly. Hefts you over his shoulder to get his payback in private. Careful what you wish for.
Caleb ‘The Deathslinger’ Quinn
WHat in gods name- Did not expect you to do that. Once he gets it, he chuckles and gives you a healthy slap on your ass back. Now that he knows that it's free game, he’s excited to do it more in the future. Get ready for the occasional ‘giddy up!’ everytime he does it.
Pyramid Head ‘The Executioner’
No visible reaction. He doesn't startle or shout, only a low rumble when he sees you standing behind him. Did you just smack his ass? Oh. Doesn’t seem to mind really. When you least expect it, his huge hand claps on your ass, practically sending you flying.
Ji-Woon ‘The Trickster’ Hak
Probably moans, like a weirdo. Says something lame like ‘harder’. You should regret ever doing it by the time he’s done. More likely to take this as an invitation to grope and spank you whenever he wants.
Nemesis T-Type ‘The Nemesis’
Nemesis is just ‘?’ Why would you do that. He seems uninterested in returning the favor but when you turn your back to him, one of his tentacles swats your ass like a whip. He might even let out something that sounds like a laugh
I hope you liked these! They were very fun to write and visualize 😂
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korasonata · 3 years
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I had someone last time ask me about time stamps, so all of these from this point out will have the time stamp at the top of each set of quotes. I am currently in the process of retrieving the time stamps for the previous 5 posts, and will link an updated version when I have retrieved them all.
Link to the video is here: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1149389841
Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo model streams part 6!
(I am very sorry I tried very hard to make this not as long as it is. There will probably be another extended cut post because there was just SO much happening in this stream)
00:00:57
Cleo: Welcome to the stream. Mine and/or Joes. Or, both.
Joe: Yay!
Cleo: I suppose that’s what the “and” means. In that statement. That would make sense. Glue pot’s ready—
Joe: It makes sense to me.
Cleo: …that makes me even more nervous that it makes sense to you, Joe. Not gonna lie.
00:16:34
Joe: So, anyway, last night at dinner, uh, like I— I had put this interview on while I was cooking and I kinda left it on as my daughter sat down for dinner and I was like “hey, this is an interview with this very famous journalist from about 50 years ago. Uh, he’s got a really interesting voice and a really interesting cadence, and I wanna kind of listen to it so I can— maybe copy it as like a joke in one of my videos.” And my daughter listens to it for about a— a minute—
Cleo: And then says “now that’s— is that you?”
Joe: *laughing* She just turns to me and she’s like “my friend…her parents got her…did you know they make crayon applesauce now? It says crayola. It tastes. Like they’ve blended a brown crayon. And sprinkled it on top.”
Cleo: That sounds grim.
Joe (prideful laughing): And it just kind of matches the cadence while also talking about something terrible to ingest?*laughing* And I just start cracking up because like— *laughing continues* she gets it! And she’s just like “why are you laughing?” Because you just— you nailed it! You nailed the pauses, you— you nailed the subject matter, like this is— this is just great!! And she’s like “no! This is a real thing! This crayon applesauce is terrible!” And I’m just laughing and laughing and she’s like trying to explain why it’s not good, and I’m like “I understand why it’s not good, but—“
Cleo (reading chat): “Joe’s daughter is awesome.” I think you’re probably correct. Joe’s daughter is indeed awesome.
Joe: Yeah, I’m very very happy with my daughter. (Reading chat) What was for dinner? Well not crayola applesauce!
Cleo (in response to someone complimenting her 3rd Life videos): Awe! Thank you joytobake, that’s really nice! I am…always pleased when people like my personality. Because I’m never sure that people should, you know?
Joe: Yeah, that’s— that’s what we were talking about— I think before we started streaming, was like, Cleo really gets me, and that’s a huge red flag.
Cleo: That’s a— yeah. As a human being. Understanding Joe - massive red flag. Huge. This is a danger. To everybody. And particularly Joe.
Joe: It’s the terror of being truly known.
00:47:08
Joe: Up until this point I didn’t show the instructions, but now I feel like I have to.
Cleo: Because otherwise people are going to judge your competency?
Joe: Yeah! They’re gonna go “ok. Any idiot can figure out how these pieces go together” but if you look at these instructions, that’s not true. I’m a spectacular idiot, and I have no idea what I’m doing with these.
Cleo: I mean. I want— I want to confirm. Yes. Spectacular.
Joe: Yes. Thank you Cleo.
Cleo: *snicker* You’re welcome Joe. I always like to insult the people I care about the most.
Joe (quietly): I know…I appreciate it.
Cleo (Watching chat): I’m waiting for Cam to confirm that.
(Cam in chat: She insults me SO MUCH, she called me a gibbon last night…)
00:59:42
Joe: *reading tips*
Cleo (reading chat): “you can’t stop Joe when he’s on a role.” This is true.
Joe (not paying attention): *still reading tips*
Cleo: I mean you can, you just have to go: Joe. Joe. JOE. And then he stops sometimes.
Joe (quietly, but with emphasis): WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!?
Cleo: I’M DOING A THING!
01:00:46
Joe (reading tips): “This is an encouragement donation for more of you singing in the future.” Ooo, I think Cleo would like that because the future is not now.
01:02:23
Cleo (genuine singing): Ground control to major Tom…
Joe: *listening in awe*
Cleo: …That’s…pretty much all I know…
Joe: Oh, I was gonna let you keep going, I— I wanted to hear more.
Cleo: Oh no. That’s pretty much all I know.
Joe: But yeah. Hypothermic haddoc writes (singing) “tell my wife I love her very much!” …I was waiting for you to jump in with the (singing) “she knoooooows!”
Cleo: Again. Again, I don’t know the song very well.
Joe: Oh. And here I am sitting in my tin can—
01:47:54
Cleo: *leaves to get a drink*
Joe: While you’re getting your drink I guess I’ll provide some musical entertainment.
SILENCE
Joe: …I don’t have anything prepared. So, let’s see…do we have any birthdays? *laughing* if it’s anybody’s birthday I’ll sing to you while Cleo’s gone.
Cleo: I’m back.
Joe: Oh ok. Well, sorry birthday boys. And girls.
Cleo: feel free to sing to people. I’m sure people want that.
Joe: no…well, I was gonna do it while you were away cause I need to get up and get my drink as soon as you’re back.
Cleo: Oh, go and get a drink and I will sing happy birthday—
Joe: So I’m gonna go get my drink, I’ll be right back.
Cleo: —to people who have chosen to spend their birthday…here…I’m not judging, uh, but— (upbeat singing) Happy Birthday to you! You smell like a zoo! (Talking) …uh, etcetera etcetera… (Singing) I forgot how this song goes! Nevermind it sucks to be you! *blows a raspberry*
01:49:09
Cleo: I mean it’s Cams birthday on Saturday, and I will sing to Cam on his birthday. His birthday is not today. I mean he probably wants me to not sing to him on his birthday, to be fair—
[Cam: Please don’t sing to me]
Cleo: —but you know, I might do it anyway. Cause it’s obnoxious. And I will laugh. (Reading chat) “Happy Birthday! Here’s some genocide! Please don’t sing to me…” *laughing* I won’t sing to you if you don’t want me to, Honey.
[Cam: Not happy birthday at least lol]
Cleo: I might torture you in other ways though.
01:50:55
Cleo: Hiiiiii Jooooooe.
Joe: Hello! Joe Hiws hewe! I am back fwom my dwink bweak!
Cleo: …what is that voice?
Joe (in a Kermit the Frog/Swedish Chef/Yoda hybrid of an accent): I feewl wike it’s fwom home star wunner or something, I don’t know! It’s almost Kermit THe Fwog Hewe, but not quITe!
*Cleo laughing*
It’s a little— (Normal voice) I dunno. I still had some of my drink in my throat, so I was like— I didn’t wanna like accidentally cough it out on the microphone as soon as I started talking. So I was just like (weird voice continues) I’ll do thIS vOIce
*Squealing giggling from Cleo*
(Same iteration of previous accent now blended somehow with the voice of Goofy from Micky Mouse) It’ll keep my mOUth in a shape that if I start— me coughing up a dwink it’ll just go into the chEEks on EIther sIde. It’s a natuwal, uh bARRier against, uh, hydration escapism! Uh yuh!!
Cleo: *giggles* Ok Joe. Ok.
Joe: *high pitched laughing* I don’t know Cleo! I’m just gonna keep making noises until people give me money! It’s jus— it’s how I pay rent.
Cleo: *laughing* Making noises until people give you— ahhhh…..
Joe: Yeah
Cleo: — actually…..yeah. Yeah. Yeah…Um (reading chat) “it’s drunk Kermit” *wheezing*
Joe (drunk Kermit The Frog voice): It’s 5:00 somewhere!
Cleo: *laughing* thanks for this. I needed— I needed this moment of— of— whatever this was.
01:53:54
Joe: So my daughter said the most Wednesday Adams thing to me the other day—
Cleo: Oh no
Joe: Except she didn’t do the deadpan delivery. She was very upbeat about this. So apparently “UP” has, on Dinsey+ a series of shorts about the old man and the dog. Right? And they’re called something like “a Dougs Life” cause Doug is the name of the dog
Cleo: yeah.
Joe: and she goes “oh! And it’s short! Like a dogs lifespan!”
SILENCE
Cleo: …Your…kid is very much your kid, you know that right?
Joe (proud dad): I know right?!
01:58:20
Cleo: I mean…you’d kill it at the Met Galla. Not gonna lie.
Joe (excited): Oh my god— I wanna get one of those Manuel suits that has like all the rhinestones and the flowers on it? Um, but, you know, like, those are very expensive.
Cleo: We live with what we can afford. Maybe someone can make you a Diamond encrusted suit that you can wear on camera. And have all the sparkles as green.
Joe (very excited): Oh my gosh— actually— so—
02:20:45
Joe: Meanwhile in my Discord everyone’s posting what they describe as “eye searingly beautiful” lime green wedding dresses. For my next wedding. Um—
Cleo: *snicker* is that what you’re wearing for your next wedding?
Joe: you know, honestly at this point I don’t wanna make any assumptions about anything.
Cleo: *cackling*
02:31:07
(This is context for the next one)
Cleo (reading chat): “some people have too much time on their hands” I mean, I personally would not drive 8 hours to see— um…
Joe: …me?
Cleo: I dunno, I might drive 8 hours to see you.
Joe: I offered to drive 8 hours to see you when you were coming to Disney and you said no, so I’m gonna assume that you would not drive 8 hours to see me.
Cleo: I mean, I— li— the key word there was “might”. I wou— I would have to have my mini frea— well I was freaked out at that point. When you offered, and and I was just like “oh god no.” Because, you know, social anxiety is a thing.
Joe: Mhm. I’ve heard of that.
Cleo: Yeah. And I do not do well particularly meeting people for the first time, even people I’ve known for a while. I go very very quiet and umm…I think it’s worse actually with people that I’ve known for a while? Um, online, um…because— cause my brain goes “well you’re gonna make a s—your, your— your going to do something and say something stupid. You going— they’re gonna hate you in real life” um…so, yeah. My brain absolutely freaked out at that moment.
02:34:12
Cleo: But, you know, like I say, I get hate mail on the regular, it’s fine. I mean part of that is daring to be a woman on the Internet, but only part. The other part is the fact that I’m also an awful human being. So, you know.
SILENCE
Cleo: …the silence isn’t doing— the silence doesn’t do you— do me any favours Joe.
Joe: Well, you know, I didn’t wanna talk over you when you’re sharing your insecurities.
Cleo: yeah….
Joe: That seems rude.
Cleo: I mean—
Joe: So I wanted to make sure you were done.
Cleo: no no no no, that’s fine. I’m always done Joe.
Joe: And nOW I can actually tell you how I really feel.
Cleo: No, please don’t. Not onl— no. That will— that will make me even more uncomfortable.
Joe (upbeat singing): The praise train is on its way!! Choo choo!!
Cleo: Noooooooooooooooooo!! Nooo!!
Joe: For Cleo it’s her day!! Choo choo!!
Cleo: *noises of distress*
Joe: Cleo is really great!! Choo choo!! Choo choo!!
Cleo: *distressful crying*
Joe: She’s not merely ok!! She doesn’t have to be the best at talking to people for the first time!! Cause they’ll love her anyway!! And sometimes they’ll even rhyyyme!! Yay for Cleo!!
Cleo: *physically going through a full body cringe* noooo
Joe: See, it would have been rude if I did that in the middle of your thing.
Cleo: *sob laughing*
Joe: That would not have been socially acceptable.
Cleo (through tears): I’m not even sure it was socially acceptable now.
Joe: WHY NOT?!
Cleo: (sobbing and laughing simultaneously) I hate you so much.
02:38:05
Cleo (reading chat): “We all need a Joe in our life, who sings a theme song for us when we’re talking ourselves down” I’m not sure you do.
Joe: Yeah, that wasn’t really a theme song? Like, if I was gonna do a theme song for Cleo—
Cleo (with immense dread): Oh no…no…no…
02:43:07
Joe: I’d just like to point out (very obnoxiously high pitched voice) That this is Cleo’s average person voice, which means that 50% of people have an even higher pitched voice!
Cleo: …You know, I can’t actually stab Joe through the Internet. And I’ve always been upset about that.
02:53:36
Joe (with all the enthusiasm of a 16 year old girl gossiping at a slumber party): Ooo I wanna ask Cleo about giiiiiirls!!!
Cleo: Ask me about girls! I’m— I’m happy for you to ask me about girls.
Joe: Ok, so, do you— do you feel comfortable saying what your specific, uh, type of woman is? I’m— I’m curious about that.
Cleo: Um, it’s— it’s nerdy girls? Specifically. Umm…not too, um…you know, the kind of running, climbing, you know— sort of— person. You know, it’s— it’s the sort of— it’s the sort of— action girl kinda thing. I kinda like that type. That’s sort of my type.
Joe: Mhm. Yeah, like—
Cleo: Why, what’s your type of girl?
Joe: Well, uh, usually it’s somebody that is— very anti authority— un— un— dissatisfied with the status quo. So usually more punk, or that sort of thing.
Cleo: Yeah. That’s— that’s— that sort of plays into the action girl sort of thing as well. Yeah I get that. So yeah.
Joe: yeah, umm, you— yeah so I don’t know. Um— so not necessarily, uh, as focused on the athleticism element there, but I know like—
Cleo: Well it’s not really athleticism, it’s— it’s more— it’s more—
Joe: —in terms of like, um, hiking, cause like, uh, you know in college there’s like a climbing and camping club or whatever—
Cleo: Oh yeah, it’s not that sort of person. It’s— it’s more, um…getting out and having a go at things. Like, you know, not— not being afraid to—
Joe: Adventurous
Cleo: Yeah! Adventurous! That’s the word!
Cleo (whispering): I don’t know where this bit goes! *gasp* it goes over there!
Joe (whispering): You can do it!
Cleo: I can do it! I believe in me!
Joe: You’ll find a place to glue it! It doesn’t necessarily have to be the right place!
Cleo: I know!
Joe: You’re equally valid regardless!
Cleo: Thanks Joe!
Joe: You’re welcome!
Cleo: It’s appreciated!
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yanderecrazysie · 3 years
Text
Streak
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Pairings: Kozume Kenma x reader
Notes: I haven't been posting much, so here's a one-shot from my Quotev/Wattpad while you all wait for me.
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, implied murder
Summary: Kenma really likes her, but he isn't sure how to show his feelings. Maybe if he just treats this as one of his video games, it'll all work out for him.
streak
/noun/
a continuous period of specified success or luck.
Life is very different from most video games. Maybe that's why Kenma preferred the online world to the real one.
In the real world, you don't get to respawn. If you die you aren't coming back. There's no backup saves if you make a mistake and there's an infinite amount of dialogue options.
In games, there are no real consequences for your actions. In fact, you're encouraged to kill other players or bots.
You need to kill to win.
Maybe that ideology was the reason why Kenma's mindset was so blurred between reality and fiction. Spending more time gaming than doing anything other than tapping away on his phone, mouse, or controllers had taken an unconscious toll on Kenma's behavior.
It helped in volleyball to have such quick thinking and reflexes. To be able to make those split-second decisions. To increase his desire to win.
In a lot of other situations, it didn't help. Especially in the predicament he'd found himself in recently.
Kill to win.
There was a pretty (hair color)-haired girl that sat in front of him in class. At first, he thought nothing of her, just like he did everyone else. Life was as uninteresting as it was last year and the year before that and the year before that and so on.
Until that fateful day where the girl in front of him passed a copy of the homework assignment to him, pausing in her action when her (eye color) eyes spotted the phone in his hand. He frowned deeper than normal, preparing to slip his phone away once the girl flagged down the teacher with the common report he had gotten in many classes.
I'm in the middle of a round, please wait at least another minute to tattle on me.
"Wait, there's a mobile version of Castledoom Shot 3?" The girl's eyes shone in wonder as she watched his fingers tap away, "I mean, I'm not as good with FPS games on mobile, but it'd be fun to mess around with when I can't be at my laptop, you know?"
Kenma stared.
The girl continued to marvel at the phone app, "The graphics are almost as good as the PC ones- wait- is that your level? I'm impressed, you're a rank above me even with me on the laptop."
Kenma continued to stare.
"Ah, sorry." She sheepishly handed the homework paper to him, "I get kinda carried away when it comes to talking about games."
As Kenma took a paper and handed the rest to the boy behind him, he paused his game and looked up at the girl in front of him. "It's fine. What other games do you play?"
Kenma couldn't understand how he never noticed (Y/n) before.
Actually, scratch that- he was well-aware of his continuous failures to notice his surroundings. It wasn't uncommon for his best friend Kuroo to have to tug on his hoodie while they walked together to save him from running into poles or tripping over rocks. Kenma was thankful for having a friend like Kuroo, especially because his older friend was much better with girls.
He has more EXP. than I do. I need to learn from him.
"Hm? You're interested in a girl?" Kuroo's rumbling laughter caused Kenma's neutral expression to melt into a scowl. "I'm proud of you. My little Kenma's finally growing up."
The two-tone-haired boy deadpanned as Kuroo dramatically wiped away an imaginary tear.
"I need advice."
Kuroo grinned down at his smaller companion and began shooting questions at him. Kenma did his best to answer but was becoming discouraged as it became clear to him that he didn't know much about (Y/n) at all, other than the fact that she liked games.
What's her favorite color? What class does she like best? What's her favorite food? Does she like chocolate? Does she like flowers? Kenma despairingly had the same response to all of them. "I don't know."
I haven't unlocked enough achievements yet. I can't go into a boss battle unprepared.
A tiny part of Kenma recognized the dangers of treating everything like a video game but the larger part of him ignored it.
I'm good at games. If I play this like a game, I'll win.
It shouldn't have been much of a surprise that (Y/n) was popular. She was funny, cool, and got along well with anyone she talked to. Unfortunately, the same things that drew Kenma in drew others in too.
It's like going alone into a dungeon in an RPG. I'm outnumbered by enemies.
Kenma became more and more agitated as the days went on. He didn't stand out, especially compared to some of the other guys that swarmed around her, and he wasn't good at reaching out to her in the first place. His eyes made more contact with the back of her head during class than they did her actual face.
Any one of those boys could whisk (Y/n) away right in front of Kenma and he couldn't stomach the thought of it. Maybe that's why he found himself buying a game he'd never played before. Why he looked up tons of walkthroughs. Why he played it for hours at a time.
"How to Get Away With Crime" was the name of the game. And oh how fitting it was.
You have to kill to win.
And Kenma really wanted to win.
(Y/n) sat in front of Kenma the following day, burying her face into her arms and crying sporadically throughout the day. The teacher struggled to teach despite her lecture on getting through these "tragic times". Students could be seen crying in the hallways and Kenma even heard sniffling in one of the stalls when he went to use the bathroom.
Settling himself back into the desk behind the girl who'd stolen his heart, he softly spoke out to (Y/n), "Are you doing okay?"
She turned back to him, tear tracks visible on her cheeks, and responded in a half-whisper, "Not really..."
Kenma gave her his best sympathetic look as she poured out her sadness to him. He rubbed comforting circles on her back when she wrapped him up into a hug and cried into his chest. He kept a straight face as she wondered about what kind of monster out there could just shoot down seven teenagers.
While Kenma was pulling out his bento a boy from the other side of the room approached her, asking her if she was doing alright since one of the victims was her closest friend. He heard her correct him, saying that, actually, all of the victims were her friends.
When the other boy gave (Y/n) a quick, reassuring hug, Kenma let out a small, weary sigh.
I guess my killstreak is going up to eight soon.
End notes: I read a fanfic (actually a couple) where Kenma saw life as a video game and I thought it was a pretty cool concept. If Kenma played a bunch of FPS and fighter games (and Kenma definitely would), seeing the world as a game would be very, very bad.
I guess Karen's right this time, video games can make kids violent.
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