#my coloring process can usually be summed up by 'fuck around and find out'

[pinoyrella]

Inarizaki Giving You A Red Envelope on Lunar New Years

Inarizaki x Manager Reader

FT: Kita Shinsuke, Ren Omimi, Ojiro Aran, Michinari Akagi, Ginjima Hitoshi, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Suna Rintarou

TW: Language 

Genre: headcanons + crack + fluff???

Word Count: 1,720 (They’re all rlly short! Like me)

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had another crack convo w my bb @babydontstoop abt atsumu and red envelopes after seeing a funny tiktok 

a/n: i mainly went off from chinese/vietnamese tradition with the hóngbāos/ and lì xìs for these headcanons bc i celebrate with my chinese + viet relatives growing up, im not familiar with the other traditions, i’m sorry! also 1 week kinda late but technically lunar new years goes on for about 2 weeks sooooo-

FYI: i’m going off of u.s currency for this asdhfkjk just an fyi.

ALSO: all images are taken off of google search, none of them belong to me!

ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEARS!! 🧧😚💖

Kita Shinsuke:

- He would give a kinda subtle yet pretty envelope

- With an ox on it (bc year of ox)

- It also has that coin u kno the coin, commemorative coin(?)

- He is very VERY generous

- Gives u $100, all in 20′s babbeyy 🙈

- He hands it to you with both hands like he’s ur ah ma / bà nội 

- He’s so kind and gentle please 🥺

Practice had just ended and you were helping the team clean out the gym, before packing and heading out to go home.

“Excuse me Y/n” You hear a soft and calm voice calling from behind you. Turning your head you make eye contact with Kita who barely a few feet away from you

“Kita-san! ” You turn to face him, your hands grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “May I help you?” You ask giving a sincere smile.

“I’m fine, but there is something I want to give you before you leave” He lifts his left hand from his back, now using his right to connect and grab the envelope with both hands.

“Happy Chinese New Year” He wishes as he extends and offers you the red envelope.

Blushing furiously, you accept it with both your hands and give him your most heartfelt thanks.

Arriving home, you open the red envelope curious. Your soul leaves your body the moment you see good old Benjamin Franklin on the $100 note.

“Kita-san holy fuck.” You cry in shock. Thinking of how you’re gonna thank him.

Ren Omimi:

- Envelope’s square shaped and plain af

- it’s just red with “lucky money” in gold or sum

- He too is very generous

- Gives u $50

- Also hands it to you with both hands

You sit in the gym with your clip board in hand, taking notes of the other players until you feel a presence approach you from your left side.

“Y/n” The deep voice says. You turn to see Omimi’s shadow towering over you, jesus christ this man’s so goddamn tall. “Yes Omimi?” You greet him cheerfully.

The man says not a word, but pulls out a red envelope, handing it to you with both hands.

Your brain short circuits, confused before he gives a nod. Sudden realization takes place, it’s for you. “Omimi!” You cry, setting down the clip board and taking the red envelope from his hands. Thanking him endlessly before he leaves to get back to practice.

As he turns to walk away, you grab your clip board again, shielding yourself opening the red envelope curious. ‘50$?!’ You scream internally. 

Running after Omimi, you tackle him from behind giving him a hug, your face buried into his shirt. “Xiexie” You muffled into his jersey.

Aran Ojiro:

- gets you a very fancy envelope

- Like the ones that isn’t sold in packs when u go to the chinese market

- Specifically the ones made from silk and has a jade ring attached

- He gets u ONE LIKE O N E THAT ONE SPECIFIC DESIGN (pls i sound crazy i’ll just attache the image so u kno what im talking abt)

- He wasnt sure how much to put inside so he gives u $40

- He tries to remember how to say happy new year to you and pronounces it perfectly

- No seriously like PERFECTLY like better than me.

- also take this man home right now to meet your parents i fken swear

“Y/N!” You hear someone yell from behind you as you were walking home. Turning you see Aran running to you, trying to catch up.

“Aran?” You run to meet him halfway.

Aran pauses and takes a few breathes before grabbing his backpack and grabbing something from inside.

He pulls out a beautifully crafted silk red envelope pouch with a tassel and jade ring tied to the front.

You stand there completely flustered and frozen.

He looks down, the envelope in both his hands offering it out to you.

“恭喜發財 (gōng xǐ fā cái)” He says perfectly, the sunset hitting his face. 

Akagi Michinari:

- Cute bb would give u the cutest fucking envelope

- Probably w hello kitty on it

- He gives you a $2 bill

- Shiiiii he knows whats up, that shit lucky and rare

- He’d hand it to u while giving u a back hug

“Y/n!!!” Before you can turn around, a heavy weight drags you down from behind. “A-Akagi-san?!” You yelp in surprise.

He stays cling onto you from behind as you try to gain balance. Hearing him let out a soft chuckle. “Here you go!” He says, his arms going around your shoulders to shove the super cute Hello Kitty li xi in your face.

You take a second to process what he had just given you to face. “AKAGI!!” You take it as he hops off your back. Then turning around to smother him into a hug. Giving him little cheek kisses.

Ginjima

- I love him, he would give u a cute envelope too

- Like with a little cartoon ox character on it

- With like lil horns sticking out

- U get the idea

- Gives u $10 but in $2 bills

You sit with the Miya twins and Suna during lunch, scanning around the cafeteria trying to find Ginjima, usually he’d be with you guys.

As you were about to ask-speak of the devil.

“Y/n-chan” He immediately sits beside you, placing his tray of food down.

“This is for you” He reveals the cutest red envelope with a cartoon cow on it, handing it to you flustered. His cheeks bursting red.

You sit and stare for a second, you start to blush feeling embarrassed. Slowly taking it from his hands, you give him a quiet ‘thank you’ before returning to your meal.

Unsure of what to do, before going back into your meal, you quickly turn your head planting a kiss to his cheek.

Osamu, Suna and Atsumu watched, their jaw dropped as Ginjima begins to turn into his own red envelope. Before you quickly place your face in your palms.

Atsumu Miya:

- This mfer would give the flashiest one

- Like you kno the ones that are so colorful and has like

- W those shitty knock-off characters from cartoons

- THE FUCKING MINION OR PEPPA PIG ONE BWHAHAHAH

- Hes broke as fuck so its p empty

jk

- He would put a coin inside.

- Not the fortune coin

- Literally a coin like a quarter or somethin

- Hed slap it against ur table while giving it to u

- He tries to say happy new year but fucking butchers it

You sit at your desk, it’s so early in the morning and your parents had woken you up early to help prepare some cooking essentials for tonight’s dinner. 

As you were about to doze off to sleep, you hear a CLACK against your desk, immediately waking you up and having you face up.

Just inches away was Atsumu’s face, that lil smirk oh how you just wanna-

You look down seeing the red envelope he placed on your desk. 

“CHUC MUNG NAM MOIIIIIII” he greets dragging out the “i” it’s like he didn’t even try to pronounce the greeting correctly. He ruffles your hair and gives another warm smile. 

You look back up to him, blushing before greeting back. “Ah, chúc mừng năm mới ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu quirks his eyebrow staring back down at you. “I’m pretty sure you said it wrong.” He says before walking off to his desk.

You sit there fucking flabbergasted. ‘What the fuck?’ You blink and turn your attention back down to your desk. Looking at the envelope you cringe. ‘It’s so bright...’ you internally think.

Osamu Miya:

- He gives you the basic basic red envelope 

- He was running late and didnt have time to stop by the bank, he wanted to be extra and give you $20 in $2 bills.

- So he just gives you a $20 bill.

- When he hands it to u, u notice its all bumpy

- Ur feeling around the envelope and theirs something else inside than just money

- U open and theres lucky candy stuffed inside

“Good-morningggggg” You turn to look up from your desk, seeing the younger twin walk in after his brother. He looks down at you, then to your desk seeing the red envelope his brother gave you. 

He cringes with you, before pulling out another, handing it to you.

“Happy Tết cutie” He greets. You thank him and greet him back as you take the envelope, you realize how bumpy and lumpy it is. 

You look back up to Osamu, he’s waiting for you to open it. You open it and out drops like 7 pieces of lucky candy. 

You look back up to him in confusion before he swoops in and takes back the 7 pieces, unwrapping them all at once and shoving them into his mouth.

Chewing, he winks at you before walking away to his seat. You can hear the audible crunch coming from the hard as fuck candy as he walks away.

Suna Rintarou:

- My guy doesnt even give you a red envelope

- He straight up just gives you cash

- Drops it on your desk and leaves

…

- Im jk he would come back and be like “sike u thought”

- Pulls out a red envelope, cute but has one of the most stupidest fucking design 

You listen to the crunching of Osamu’s poor teeth grinding against the lucky candy before-

“Yo” Before having the time to look up, you hear a slap against your desk as Suna begins to turn to walk away. You look down to see a $50 bill on your desk.

You turn to look at him, he stares at you for a second before walking away.

???

He comes back to you after settling his bag down.

He takes the $50 on your desk and slips it into the red envelope now in his hands. After sliding it in he brings the envelope to his mouth and begins to lick the ends as he seductively looks at you before folding the paper in. 

You watch him in disgust suna baby you don’t have to lick the ends of the red envelope that’s not how they work. He sets the red envelope back on your desk, his head coming closer to yours, enough for you to feel his breath against you.

He brings his mouth over to your ear before whispering in a husky voice “Happy Lunar New Year đẹp gái qua~” Before pulling away and walking to his desk like nothing happened.

You sit there absolutely shaken, until you look down to see the red envelope he left. Jesus fuck what the hell is that thing.

A/N: OH TO BE CALLED PRETTY GIRL BY SUNA IS AN ULTIMATE DREAM ASDFGKJHJK pls i wanna gib the inarizaki boys smooches theyre all so great AAAHHHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE MWAH ILYYYY!!!!

#inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #kita shinsuke #ren omimi #aran ojiro #akagi michinari #atsumu miya #osamu miya #Suna Rintarou #suna rintarō #ginjima hitoshi #kita x reader #omimi x reader #aran x reader #akagi x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #suna x reader #ginjima x reader #inarizaki headcanons #inarizaki crack #inarizaki fluff #inarizaki manager #inarizaki x you #inarizaki x y/n #inarizaki x manager #happy lunar new years!!!

[destiny-smasher]

Life is Strange: True Colors

Leading up to the release of Episode 1 of TellTale's The Walking Dead game, I was working freelance for GameRevolution at the time, lived in the area, and had the chance to play a build of the game to write a preview on it. I remember comparing it to Mass Effect because, at the time, there just...weren't games of that subgenre. Of course, by now we've seen an explosion of this type of game - the 'narrative/choice-driven game,' spearheaded and even oversaturated by Telltale to their own demise.

Out of all of the games that have come from that initial boom, Life is Strange by DontNod was and still is the most influential on my life, but I also have always harbored really conflicted feelings about it - especially with how it resolved its narrative. Hell, if you're reading this, you're probably aware that I spent a few years of my life creating a sequel fanstory which I even adapted a chunk of into visual novel format. Hundreds of thousands of words, days and days of life spent essentially trying to process and reconcile my conflicted feelings about this game's conclusion(s). Since then, I've been experimenting with interactive fiction and am currently developing my own original visual novel using everything I've learned from both creating and playing games in this genre. It's a subgenre of game I have a lot of interest and passion for because, when handled well, it can allow a player to sort of co-direct a guided narrative experience in a way that's unique compared to strictly linear cinematic experiences but still have a curated, focused sense of story.

Up until this point, I've regarded Night in the Woods as probably the singular best game of this style, with others like Oxenfree and The Wolf Among Us as other high marks. I've never actually put any Life is Strange game quite up there - none of them have reached that benchmark for me, personally. Until now, anyway.

But now, I can finally add a new game to that top tier, cream of the crop list. Life is Strange: True Colors is just damn good. I'm an incredibly critical person as it is - and that critique usually comes from a place of love - so you can imagine this series has been really hard to for me given that I love it, and yet have never truly loved any actual full entry in it. I have so many personal issues, quibbles, qualms, and frustration with Life is Strange: with every individual game, with how it has been handled by its publisher (my biggest issue at this point, actually), with how it has seemingly been taken away from its original development studio, with how it chooses to resolve its narratives...

But with True Colors, all of those issues get brushed aside long enough for me to appreciate just how fucking well designed it is for this style of game. I can appreciate how the development team, while still clearly being 'indie' compared to other dev teams working under Square-Enix, were able to make such smart decisions in how to design and execute this game. Taken on its own merits, apart from its branding, True Colors is absolutely worth playing if you enjoy these 'telltale' style games. Compared to the rest of the series, I would argue it's the best one so far, easily. I had a lot of misgivings and doubts going in, and in retrospect, those are mostly Square-Enix's fault. Deck Nine, when given the freedom to make their own original game in the same vein as the previous three, fucking nailed it as much as I feel like they could, given the kinds of limitations I presume they were working within.

I'm someone who agonizes every single time there is news for Life is Strange as a series - someone who essentially had to drop out of the fandom over infighting, then dropped out of even being exposed to the official social media channels for it later on (I specifically have the Square-Enix controlled channels muted). I adore Max and Chloe, and as a duo, as a couple, they are one of my top favorites not just in gaming, but in general. They elevated the original game to be something more than the sum of its parts for me. And while I have enjoyed seeing what DontNod has made since, it's always been their attention to detail in environmental craftsmanship, in tone and atmosphere, which has caught my interest. They're good at creating characters with layers, but imo they've never nailed a narrative arc. They've never really hit that sweet spot that makes a story truly resonate with me. Deck Nine's previous outing, Before the Storm, was all over the place, trying to mimic DontNod while trying to do its own things - trying to dig deeper into concepts DontNod deliberately left open for interpretation while also being limited in what it could do as a prequel.

But with True Colors, those awkward shackles are (mostly) off. They have told their own original story, keeping in tone and concept with previous Life is Strange games, and yet this also feels distinctly different in other ways.

Yes, protagonist Alex Chen is older than previous characters, and most of the characters in True Colors are young adults, as opposed to teenagers. Yes, she has a supernatural ability. And yes, the game is essentially a linear story with some freedom in how much to poke around at the environment and interact with objects/characters, with the primary mechanic being making choices which influence elements of how the story plays out. None of this is new to the genre, or even Life is Strange. But the execution was clearly planned out, focused, and designed with more caution and care than games like this typically get.

A smaller dev team working with a budget has to make calls on how to allocate that budget. With True Colors, you will experience much fewer locales and environments than you will in Life is Strange 2. Fewer locations than even Life is Strange 1, by my count. But this reinforces the game's theming. I suspect the biggest hit to the game's budget was investing in its voice acting (nothing new for this series) but specifically in the motion capture and facial animation.

You have a game about a protagonist trying to fit in to a small, tightly knit community. She can read the aura of people's emotions and even read their minds a little. And the game's budget and design take full advantage of this. You spend your time in a small main street/park area, a handful of indoor shops, your single room apartment. It fits within a tighter budget, but it reinforces the themes the game is going for. Your interactions with characters are heightened with subtle facial cues and microexpressions, which also reinforces the mechanic and theming regarding reading, accepting, and processing emotions. And you get to make some choices that influence elements of this - influenced by the town, influenced by the emotions of those around you, which reinforce the main plot of trying to navigate a new life in a small town community.

When I think about these types of games, the conclusion is always a big deal. In a way, it shouldn't be, because I usually feel it's about the journey, not the destination. And as an example, I actually really dislike the ending of the original Life is Strange. I think it's a lot of bullshit in many ways. The setpiece is amazing and epic, sure, but the actual storytelling going on is...really hollow for me. Yes, the game does subtly foreshadow in a number of ways that this is the big choice it's leading up to, but the game never actually makes sense of it. And the problem is, if your experience is going to end on a big ol' THIS or THAT kind of moment, it needs to make sense or the whole thing will fall apart as soon as the credits are rolling and the audience spends a moment to think about what just happened. When you look at the end of Season 1 of Telltale's The Walking Dead, it's not powerful just because of what choice you're given, but because through the entire final episode, we know the stakes - we know what is going to ultimately happen, and we know the end of the story is fast approaching. All of the cards are on the table by the time we get to that final scene, and it works so well because we know why it's happening, and it is an appropriate thematic climax that embodies the theming of the entire season. It works mechanically, narratively, and thematically, and 'just makes sense.'

The ending of Life is Strange 1 doesn't do that, if you ask me. The ending of most games in this genre don't really hit that mark. When I get to the end of most game 'seasons' like this, even ones I enjoy, I'm typically left frustrated, confused, and empty in a way.

The ending of True Colors, on the other hand, nails everything it needs to. Handily, when compared to its peers.

If you're somehow reading this and have not played this game but intend to, now is probably where you should duck out, as I will be

discussing SPOILERS from the entire game, specifically the finale.

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Firstly, since I don't know where else to put this, some criticisms I found with the game. And honestly, they're all pretty damn minor compared to most games of this type.

Mainly, I just wish the whole Typhon thing was handled a bit more deliberately. It's a bit weird to do the 'big evil corporation' thing (especially when a big corporation like Square Enix occupies as much as or even more of the credits to this game than the people who actually MADE it?) without offering more explanation and subtlety. The game certainly makes some efforts but they're mostly small and mostly optional, like background chatter or a handful of one-off bits of documentation/etc. you can find in the environment. I feel like Diane in particular needed to be fleshed out just a little bit more to really sell us on how and why things like this happen, why corporations make decisions that cost people their happiness, security, and lives and they just get to keep on doing it. I think just a little bit that is unavoidable to the player that puts emphasis on maybe how much the town relies on the money/resources Typhon provides would've helped. Again, this is minor, but it stands out when I have so little else to critique.

I would've liked to get more insight on why Jed is the way he is. No, I don't think we really needed to learn more about his backstory, or even really his motivations. I think we get enough of that. I just think it would've been great to somehow highlight more deliberately how/why he's built up this identity overtop of what he's trying to suppress. Maybe even just having Alex internally realize, "Wait, what the hell, Jed has been hiding these emotions and my powers haven't picked up on it?" or something to that effect could have added an extra oomph to highlight how Jed seems to be coping with his emotions by masking/suppressing them. Also really minor complaint, but again...there's not much else here I can think to really improve on within the confines of what's in the game.

The game doesn't really call Alex's power into question morally. Like. Max has an entire meltdown by the end of her story, second-guessing if she's even helped anyone at all, if she has 'the right' to do so, how her powers might be affecting or expressing her own humanity and flaws...this story doesn't really get into that despite a very similar concept of manipulating others. There's like one bit in a document you can choose to read in Alex's 'nightmare' scene, but that's really it. I feel like this sentiment and how it's executed could have easily been expanded upon in just this one scene to capture what made that Max/Other Max scene do what it did in a way that would address the moral grayness of Alex's powers and how she uses them, and give players a way to express their interpretation of that. Also, very small deal, just another tidbit I would've liked to see.

When I first watched my wife play through Episode 5 (I watched her play through the game first, then I played it myself), I wasn't really feeling the surreal dreamscape stuff of Alex's flashbacks - which is weird, because if you're read my work from the past few years, you'll know I usually love that sort of shit. I think what was throwing me off was that it didn't really feel like it was tying together what the game was about up until that point, and felt almost like it was just copying what Life is Strange did with Max's nightmare sequence (minus the best part of that sequence, imo, where Max literally talks to herself).

But by the time I had seen the rest of the story, and re-experienced it myself, I think it clicked better. This is primarily a story about Alex Chen trying to build a new life for herself in a new community - a small town, a tightly knit place. Those flashbacks are specifically about Alex's past, something we only get teeny tiny tidbits of, and only really if we go looking for them. I realized after I gave myself a few days to process and play through the game myself that this was still a fantastic choice because it reinforces the plot reasons why Alex is even in the town she's in (because her father went there, and her brother in turn went there looking for him), and it reinforces the theme of Alex coming to accept her own emotions and confront them (as expressed through how the flashbacks are played out and the discussions she has with the image of Gabe in her mind, which is really just...another part of herself trying to get her to process things).

By the time Alex escapes the mines and returns to the Black Lantern, all of the cards are on the table. By that point, we as the audience know everything we need to. Everything makes sense - aside from arguably why Jed has done what he has done, but put a pin in that for a sec. We may not know why Alex has the powers she does, but we have at least been given context for how they manifested - as a coping mechanism of living a life inbetween the cracks of society, an unstable youth after her family fell apart around her (and oof, trust me, I can relate with this in some degree, though not in exactly the same ways). And unlike Max's Rewind power, the story and plot doesn't put this to Alex's throat, like it's all on her to make some big choice because she is the way she is, or like she's done something wrong by pursuing what she cares about (in this case, the truth, closure, and understanding).

When Alex confronts Jed in front of all of the primary supporting characters, it does everything it needs to.

Mechanically: it gives players choices for how to express their interpretation of events, and how Alex is processing them; it also, even more importantly, uses the 'council' as a way of expressing how the other characters have reacted to the choices the player has made throughout the game, and contributes to how this climax feels. We're given a 'big choice' at the end of the interaction that doesn't actually change the plot, or even the scene, really (it just affects like one line of dialogue Alex says right then) and yet BOTH choices work so well as a conclusion, it's literally up to your interpretation and it gives you an in-game way to express that.

Thematically: the use of the council reinforces the game's focus on community; and the way the presentation of the scene stays locked in on Alex and Jed's expressions reinforces its focus on emotion - not to mention that the entire scene also acts as a way to showcase how Alex has come to accept, understand, and process her own emotions while Jed, even THEN, right fucking at the moment of his demise, is trying to mask his emotions, to hide them and suppress them and forget them (something the game has already expressed subtly by way of his negative emotions which would give him away NOT being visible to Alex even despite her power).

Narratively: we are given a confrontation that makes sense and feels edifying to see play out after everything we've experienced and learned. We see Alex use her powers in a new and exciting way that further builds the empowering mood the climax is going for and adds a cinematic drama to it. No matter what decisions the player makes, Alex has agency in her own climax, we experience her making a decision, using her power, asserting herself now that she has gone through the growth this narrative has put her through. Alex gets to resolve her shit, gets to have her moment to really shine and experience the end of a character arc in this narrative.

Without taking extra time to design the game around these pillars, the finale wouldn't be so strong. If they didn't give us enough opportunities to interact with the townspeople, their presence in the end wouldn't matter, but everyone who has a say in the council is someone we get an entire scene (at least one) dedicated to interacting with them and their emotions. If they didn't implement choices in the scene itself, it would still be powerful but we wouldn't feel as involved, it'd be more passive. If they didn't showcase Alex's power, we might be left underwhelmed, but they do so in a way that actually works in the context through how they have chosen to present it, while also just tonally heightening the climax by having this drastic lighting going on. If they didn't have the council involved, we'd lose the theming of community. If they didn't have the foil of Alex/Jed and how they have each processed their emotions, we'd miss that key component. And if we didn't have such detailed facial animations, the presentation just wouldn't be as effective.

Ryan/Steph are a little bit like, in this awkward sideline spot during the climax? Steph always supports you, and Ryan supports you or doubts you conditionally, which is unsurprising but also ties into the themes of Ryan having grown up woven into this community, and Steph being once an outsider who has found a place within it. They're still there, either way, which is important. The only relevant characters who aren't present are more supporting characters like Riley, Ethan, and Mac. Ethan being the only one of those who gets an entire 'super emotions' scene, but that also marks the end of his arc and role in the story, so...it's fine. Mac and Riley are less important and younger, as well, and have their own side story stuff you have more direct influence on, too.

But damn, ya'll, this climax just works so well. It especially stands out to me given just how rarely I experience a conclusion/climax that feels this rewarding.

And then after that we get a wonderful montage of a theoretical life Alex might live on to experience. Her actions don't overthrow a conglomerate billionaire company. She doesn't even save a town, really. If the entire council thinks you're full of shit, Jed still confesses either way - because it's not up to the council whether he does this, it's because of Alex, regardless of player choice. Honestly, even after a playthrough where I made most choices differently from my wife, there weren't really many changes to that montage at the end. It'd have been great if it felt more meaningfully different, but maybe it can be. Even if not, the design intent is there and the execution still works. It's a really nice way to end the story, especially since it's not even a literal montage but one Alex imagines - again, her processing what she's gone through, what she desires, expressed externally for us to see it. And for once, the actual final 'big decision' in a game of this type manages to be organic, make sense, and feel good and appropriate either way. You choose to either have Alex stay in Haven Springs and continue building her life there, or you can choose to have her leave and try to be an indie musician, with the events of the game being yet another chunk of her life to deal with and move on from (I haven't really touched on it, but music, especially as a way to express and process emotions, is a recurring thing, much like photography was in the original game, or Sean's illustrations in LiS2). For once, a climactic 'pick your ending' decision that doesn't feel shitty. It's pretty rare for this genre, honestly.

I could - and already have, and likely will - have so much more to say about this game and its details, but I really wanted to focus on touching upon a main element that has left me impressed: the way the entire game feels designed. It feels intentionally constructed but in a way that reinforces what it is trying to express as a story. It's not just trying to make people cry for the sake of 'emotions.' It is a game literally about emotions and it comes to a conclusion in a way that is clearly saying something positive and empowering about empathy and self-acceptance.

Storytelling is a craft, like any other, and it entails deliberate choices and decisions that can objectively contribute to how effective a story is for its intended audience.

A good story isn't something you find, after all.

It's something you build.

#Life is Strange True Colors #Life is Strange #Haven Springs #alex chen #lis true colors

[thedistantdusk]

Can you write anything with the Harry/Ron bromance? Thank you, you are helping me survive quarantine!

Thanks to @floreatcastellumposts for all her help! For once, this is only mildly inappropriate! ;)

On AO3.

Rain patters on the window of the attic, sounding angrier by the minute. For once, the exterior of the house is louder. This is quite a feat for the Burrow ever, but on an afternoon in June, it’s almost unheard of.

Harry lets out a deep breath, running his hand across his eyes. Over the past month, he’s adapted to the silence. He’s started to crave it, to consider it reassurance that everything’s on the mend. There aren’t explosions or calls for help or sobs emerging through the rubble and darkness. There’s simply quiet. Solitude. Even—

“HEY!” The door bursts open, slamming against the wall, as Ron pierces through the aforementioned solitude.

Harry just sighs and gets his glasses from the bedside table. No hope of an afternoon nap, it seems.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” Ron deadpans, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

Harry rolls his eyes; since he and Ginny got back together, Ron and George have greatly enjoyed taking the mickey anywhere they can find it. Just yesterday, George had interrupted a perfectly good garden snog with a series of nonsensical, thinly-veiled questions (“Have you dipped your nib in ink, Harry? How was it? Please, I’m desperately curious for feedback on all nib-dipping experiences; this could be vital information for restocking a line of magical quills at the shop!”)

Now, though, the girls are off shopping; the Burrow is empty, save for the two of them. To Harry, this seems like much of the same.

“Interrupting a kip is the least of your worries, mate,” he mutters darkly, sitting up in bed. He hopes the meaning isn’t lost there. If Ron’s going to be a cock-block, he’s going to hear about it.

Ron doesn’t respond, though. Which is odd. So Harry slides on his glasses and takes in his appearance. Ron’s looming frame stands near the door, his freckles and red hair more distinctive than usual. It could be the lighting, Harry thinks; after all, it is quite gray and dim up here. Ah but no... that wouldn’t explain why he’s now awkwardly shifting in place, rubbing his palms against his jeans.

Then, Ron clears his throat — and suddenly, his face turns red instead of white. “Erm. Listen,” he starts uneasily, avoiding Harry’s eyes. “I’ve erm... I’ve got something to discuss!”

He ends with a sort of jubilant bounce on the balls of his feet, wearing a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Harry peers back warily. If Ginny were here, she’d suss this weirdness out straight away. She’d know, just from his posturing, what Ron’s getting at. A moment later, he opens his mouth to speak again — but just as quickly, he seems to decide something or other is a bad idea, because he waves his hand and strides toward his bed with an anxious huff. As if that explains anything.

“Right,” Ron says, settling down across from Harry. “Right.”

“Right,” Harry echoes, arching an eyebrow. “You… feeling all right?”

“Mm.” Ron hunches over, his elbows on his knees, and stares at the floor.

As the seconds pass, Harry peers at Ron with a growing sense of dread. It’s rare he’s this quiet around him — and Harry doesn’t like it. It’s too reminiscent of darkness, of the times they’ve been at each other’s throats. Has Harry done anything to make him angry this time? He doesn’t think so. Ron’s been supportive, even, of his renewed relationship with Ginny. Apart from giving him shit for it.

This silence isn’t doing his head any favors, though. So Harry decides to break it.

“Listen,” Harry says uneasily. “I don’t want to pry, but—”

“—So you know Hermione and I are properly together, yeah?” Ron blurts, his words stringing together so fast they sound like a single syllable.

Harry clears his throat and tries to respond as delicately as he can. “Mate, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I think most of the castle knows you’re properly together.”

But Ron’s not on the same page. “No,” he says over a humorless chuckle, his eyes still locked on the floor. “That’s erm. That’s not what I’m getting at.”

Then what…?

Oh.

Oh no.

Harry’s stomach clenches with fear, head filling with memories that seem far more distant than a year old. He remembers Lupin’s drawn, tired eyes when he approached them in Grimmauld Place. He remembers the unflinching expression of horror and shock, the way he distanced himself from Tonks’ baby. He remembers the resigned tone in his voice, like a man marching to his own execution.

Then, of course, Harry remembers tiny little Teddy. The baby who’d charged in and changed everything. Tiny little Teddy, who is undeniably adorable… but also fuck-loads of work.

Shit. Harry desperately blinks up at Ron, pleading with the universe that he’s wrong, that he’s made a mistake in this leap of logic. But there’s nothing reassuring about what he finds. Ron’s still staring at the floor, his eyes wide and unseeing, his back hunched.

This couldn’t be... no.

Hermione’s smarter than that, isn’t she? Hell, Ron — with his six siblings — must also be smarter than that! They’d never let... something… happen.

Right?

But even as Harry tries to deny it, he knows there’s a chance — mostly because Hermione’s a right moron when her feelings get involved. Fuck. Harry’s stomach churns as the memories shift. He sees birds pecking at Ron’s hands in that abandoned classroom. He sees Hermione’s face when Ron returned to the tent last year, her eyes flaring with something unbridled and terrifying.

Best to get it over with, though. Like ripping off a plaster. If he’s going to be an uncle (the word lands like a sour rock in his stomach), he reckons he’d rather know as soon as possible.

With that, Harry clears his throat. “Erm. Ron, I’m not going to push you, but—”

“—Hermione wants to know if you want to arrange something where Ginny comes here at night and I go down there and we sleep there ok.”

Somehow, this string of words comes out even more quickly than the first, leaving Ron in a red-faced, mortified silence; Harry only understands any of it at all because he knows Ron so well, but he gives both of them time to process the exacting wording of the declaration.

After a few seconds, though, Harry’s still not sure what to make of it — and not because he didn’t understand the literal words. No… the real fear is that he’s ignored what Ron actually said and supplanted what he wanted to hear.

So Harry draws a deep breath, guarding his heart as he does. “Ok ok ok,” he says, raising his hand. “I… I need to make sure I’ve understood you correctly. You’ve only come in here to tell me that Hermione’s cooked up a shagging arrangement. Is… is that right?”

There’s another pause.

For his part, Ron only looks impressed. “Yeah mate,” he says fairly. “Sums it up.”

Oh for the love of —

Harry releases a half-laugh, half-sigh as he collapses back on the bed. Shagging! That’s all Ron was after! For fuck’s sake! Harry’s chest feels lighter, his head happier, his future brighter.

“You… seem surprised, though ” Ron notes, peering over. “What did you think—?”

Harry laughs again, cutting him off. “I thought you’d got her pregnant! I was terrified for you! Can you even imagine—”

“Nooo!” Ron says sharply. He shudders, the color draining from his face. “No,” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. “No, I cannot, so please don’t even joke about—”

“Oi, who’s joking?” Harry counters. “You’re the two who ran off to Australia and spent nights in hotels! Your mum was scandalized, by the way. It was brilliant.”

He ends with a grin, but it seems that the word Australia was a bit of a trigger; Ron’s face is now blank and happy, his mouth spread into a gormless smile as he stares at the wall above Harry’s head.

Ugh. Harry looks away. He’s glad he hasn’t volunteered his (rather unfortunate) knowledge that those two shagged before they even left the castle. Harry still can’t decide if Ginny’s ability to wheedle information out of people is a blessing or a curse, but he reckons it’s best to push the subject of Ron and Hermione’s sex life from his mind.

As if on cue, Ron sighs from his bed. Harry’s pleased to find he’s not making that weird Hermione face anymore, but he doesn’t look entirely… settled either. His expression is pensive, his arms crossed over his chest, and it takes a few more seconds for Harry to understand why — but when he does, it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his brain.

Oh.

Harry releases a deep breath of his own. Ron hasn’t said a word, but he’s certain they’re both filled with this sort of… shuddering awareness of the situation at hand. Because this is the first time they’ve broached this, isn’t it? The fact that they’re intimate now, with each other’s sisters. Harry can’t decide if that’s more comforting or repulsive — but more than anything else, he reckons it’s just... different. Nothing more, nothing less.

After all, it wasn’t long ago Harry was terrified they’d get together and leave him. But when they got together — right in front of him — Harry hadn’t been jealous or scornful; he’d been happy for them. He reckons he would’ve been chuffed, even, had they not been in the middle of a battle, but that hadn’t stopped them for long.

Then again, it also wasn’t long ago that Ron yelled at Ginny for snogging Dean. A year ago, Ron had yelled at him for snogging Ginny — mostly because he’d been concerned about his sister’s feelings. Harry hadn’t blamed him for that, not really, but he nonetheless reckons it should’ve foreshadowed Ron’s cock-block tendencies.

Another vacant smile crosses Harry’s lips. They’ve all changed, haven’t they? War changed them, to the core. Age changed them, to the core….

“Erm. But please, don’t give me details,” Ron blurts, apropos of nothing. He shivers again despite the warm afternoon. “I think I’d rather remove my fingernails with a blunt needle than hear about how much you love shagging my sister, thanks.”

Harry raises a brow. Technically speaking, Ron’s wrong in his conclusion. They haven’t… done that. Not properly, even if they’d hedged around it more times than he can count. They’ve done basically everything but shag, actually, but Harry reckons that would be more mortifying to admit than just letting it go.

Not that they aren’t ready; Harry knows they’re both ready. But through either sheer practicality (his reasoning) or misguided chivalry (Ginny’s), Harry couldn’t bear to live with himself if he took her virginity in their usual haunts of the garden or Mr Weasley’s shed.

Now, though, they’ve got… options. That Ron — of all people — has delivered on a silver platter.

Harry feels his pulse quicken at the thought as his jeans start to tighten. Aaand lovely, this is now thoroughly embarrassing. He needs a distraction, now.

So Harry loudly clears his throat and picks up the threads of their conversation. “Yeah, and I’ll trust you to do the same when it comes to Hermione. I’ve no desire to hear about—”

Ron interrupts with a wave of his hand, but when he speaks again, he’s not taking the mickey like before. “Noted,” he says firmly. “Just erm... I guess I also wanted to make sure...” He trails off, biting his lip, but seems to think better of whatever he’d started. “Nevermind, it’s stupid. Do you want to play chess?”

Harry’s not letting him off the hook that easily. “Whatever it is, mate, I’m sure it’s not the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Ron laughs. “Yeah, and that was kind of my point, actually.” He rubs his hand on the back of his neck. When he looks at Harry again, there’s a telltale spark of reassurance shining behind his eyes. “You… erm. You know we’re still us, yeah?”

Oh.

Harry hadn’t realized he’d been that… transparent. He gnaws at the inside of his cheek. They’re together now — all four of them, which is the best possible situation. But he can’t deny there’s a lingering fear that romantic relationships, real ones, will change them forever. That he’ll lose the first friend he ever had. That they’ll finally have found the one thing they can’t talk about, even as the topic voraciously consumes both of their thoughts.

Has any of that happened, though? asks a voice in the back of his head. It sounds suspiciously like Ginny.

Harry’s lips curl into another smile as the answer comes to him.

No. No, it hasn’t.

Because at the end of the day, they’re still Harry and Ron. They’re the two prats from Gryffindor who became best friends on the Hogwarts Express and got detentions together and shared a mutual loathing of Malfoy, all as their voices cracked. They’re still Harry and Ron, who fought bitterly and pretended to hate each other and nearly vomited on each other and discussed wanking techniques.

No matter what, they’ll always be Harry and Ron. Their relationship survived Voldemort. How could Harry have thought it wouldn’t survive sex?

“Yeah, we are,” he agrees. “Just, you know...” He makes a vague hand gesture. “Taller. Wiser.”

Ron smirks, rising to stand. “Actually, I was gonna go with shagging each other’s sisters — but if you’d like to pretend you’re wiser...”

Harry chokes out a laugh. “I reckon Hermione’s still the wisest of us all, seeing how she arranged this. What time were you thinking, by the way?”

“Eleven minutes past ten,” Ron says promptly. “We reckon it’s less suspicious if it’s a bit off the hour.”

“Eleven minutes is highly specific, mate.” Harry raises his eyebrows. “Please tell me that number wasn’t in your head because of some… personal record. Or something.” He makes a face and moves to stand, too.

Ron just jerks his chin towards the door. “Do you want to play wizard’s chess? And I’m not going to dignify that with a response, by the way — but just know, you’re definitely, definitely incorrect.” His lips twitch. “As well as a total wanker.”

Ha! He’s left himself wide open!

Harry laughs and strides into the hallway, too. “Only when I think about—”

“UGH!” Ron groans dramatically as they walk downstairs, but Harry can hear the grin in his voice. “I thought we agreed never to discuss that!”

Harry spreads his palms in surrender, but doesn’t push it; Ron’s been more than understanding today, so he reckons he’ll let it slide — at least until the next time he tries to give him shit.

Then they march into the living room wearing stupid, contended grins, just as they’ve done a thousand times, for one reason or another. Then they play wizard’s chess, just as they’ve done a thousand times. Then Ron kicks Harry’s arse, just as he’s done a thousand times.

Ron pumps his fist in triumph and lets out a jubilant yelp as he resets the board — and although Harry would never admit it aloud, he’s nonetheless reached a comfortable, contented conclusion.

He’s fine with losing at wizard’s chess for the rest of his life… as long as he loses to him.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry/ginny #Harry/Ron brotp #Harry/Ron Bromance #romione

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

The Montgomery Files: Chapter 7

Dredd x reader

By @adventuresintooblivion​

Word Count: 2194

Summary: A gala. With embezzlement. And Wolfe’s family. Oh joyous day!

Note: Takes place after my series that you can find in the Masterlist.

Montgomery sighed softly, picking idly at her Lo Mein. Tonight was a weird night. Dredd and Y/LN were on a mission together for fucking once but it was guard duty of all things. It was for a fundraiser for kids or something like that. But not only were they undercover, the event was hosted by the Wolfes of all people. 

After Chief had told the couple about their assignment, Montgomery had been called into Control for a special favor. While the Chief didn’t cash in her special favors very often, this one seemed to be particularly important. And illegal. Hence, why it had been given to Montgomery. 

Her skills with a computer were somewhat infamous amongst her peers. However, they all were aware that what she did wasn’t always within the confines of the law. Most people tended to turn a blind eye since it kept street Judges alive. This was different though.

This assignment wasn’t dangerous and it was almost impossible for either Dredd or Y/LN to get injured let alone killed. It was a fundraiser for crying out loud. What were they doing, hiding guns in the punch? But with the Wolfe’ involved, Montgomery couldn’t help but wonder if this was a bit personal.

Despite the fact that she usually thrived on this underground night life, Montgomery couldn’t help but wish she was at home watching some stupid mystery show. Over the past couple years, she’d practically begged Operators and Handlers alike for a chance like this. To be working with the two best Judges to walk the planet and be allowed to do as much shady shit as she wanted? It was a dream.

And five minutes in it became obvious that Dredd had a stick up his ass the size of the empire state building. His tux was bare minimum. He refused to drink or even grab Y/LN anything. Something about not being intoxicated while on duty. Then to top it off, he wouldn’t dance.

Again Montgomery was staring into the live feed, the gaudy decorations making her go a little cross eyed. For some relief she happened to glance over at a separate screen which displayed, in live time, the charity funds and where they were going. A list next to the sum of money in the account caught her attention. It was all of the guests credit card information, security number and all. Even the bogus cards that had been given the Dredd and Y/LN were listed. If Montgomery wanted to, she could get herself a nice pair of boots.

She pushed the thought aside as she began tracking the funds. Money began to pour in as the bidding started. The website said the money was supposed to fund a research program for children affected by pollution. It was called KIDS2BCURED. While the name was cheesy enough to make it sound real, it didn’t mean anything.

Montgomery flipped through the half dozen windows she had open for this project before finally settling on the bank accounts. It was supposed to arrive in a joint bank account for employees and supervisors to use in order to fund their research. However, no matter how much bidding was done at the fundraiser, no money showed up. 

Montgomery frowned. Maybe there was some weirdly high tech security on this.

But then she got curious and began tracking down the paper trail from KIDS2BCURED. It existed on a couple pieces of paper but besides registering for the name the actual company didn’t exist.

Suddenly one of her windows pinged as it begam active. As she pulled it up she glanced at the headline. This was a list of all the bank accounts owned by the Wolfe’s respective business ventures. The one labeled as DuoCare Pharmaceuticals was suddenly filling up with hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Montgomery followed the paper trail on this as well, wondering how real this company was compared to KIDS2BCURED. Soon she found a copyright license for the name and a deed to a warehouse. The nice a reputable kind that’s surrounded by the shittiest part of town and other empty warehouses. And the bank account itself was owned directly by Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe.

“Welp, that’s illegal.” Montgomery couldn’t stop the chuckle as it came unbidden to her lips.

Rodrigez peeked around the wall of the cubical, “Oh? Illegal? Now you wouldn’t be snooping around unauthorized locations again?” His sing-song voice barely penetrated the drone of the party coming through her headphones.

This time Montgomery rolled her eyes, “No, I’m authorized to go where I want this time. But you know the friendly neighborhood fuck-up?”

He nodded eagerly, slowly making his way over to peer at her computer screen.

“Her parents are totally embezzling money from the richest and most powerful families in the Megacity.”

“Aren’t half of those Mafia?”

Montgomery nodded and continued typing.

Rodrigez continued, “No fucking way. That’s too ballsy to be someone related to her. Wait, do you think she knows?”

Before she could answer Rodriez hopped back on his computer and began typing furiously. His face lit up with an intense focus. Montgomery glanced over curious. All she could see was Wolfe’ picture on the screen.

“Oh Montgomery, this is poetic. She’s there.” he exclaimed. 

Montgomery felt her mouth fall open, “She’s at the fundraiser?”

He nodded, “She requested off just for it.”

Montgomery squealed happily, “Oh this is gonna be great. Wait, am I a bad person for wanting this to happen?”

Rodrigez shrugged as Montgomery switched the comms on, “Y/LN, Dredd?”

It was Y/LN who replied, “Yes?”

The Handler grinned, “So how’s babysitting?”

“Dear God, Montgomery, don't get me started. Is there something you need?” She groaned into the microphone. 

“Hmm? Oh nothing except a possible arrest warrant for  Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe.”

There was a long moment of silence on the other side of the comms, “Hello?”

Y/LN cleared her throat, “Yeah, I’m here. I just...What for?”

“Embezzlement. Turns out that little fundraiser they host eventually works around to line their own pockets.”

A deep chuckle came over the comms, “Oh that is too perfect. Has the warrant been made official yet?”

Montgomery rolled her eyes, “Come on, Dredd, what do you take me for?”

Montgomery quickly sent the information to the Chief as a soft groan emanated over the speaker.

“I think you’re a Handler that straddles the line of the law and who frequently dips their toe into questionably legal activities. You’re also really fucking loud,” he replied. The screen finally flickered to life as he finished.

“So why haven’t you arrested me yet?”

Dredd didn’t dignify her with an answer as the scanners began to identify party goers. People dressed in the most expensive of fabrics this city could create. Montgomery chuckled dryly as she noticed the copious amounts of potpourri. So this is what the rich did to hide the stench of the squalor that surrounded them.

A soft ping pulled her from her thoughts as a notification appeared on Dredd’s screen.

His deep voice soon followed, “Arrest order received. We will commence with caution.”

Y/LN grumbled, “You know if it was anyone else besides the Wolfe’ the we wouldn’t be waiting for a warrant. We’re Judges.”

Dredd sighed softly and turned to look at his wife, “They donated thousands of dollars to the Academy since Wolfe joined. Not to mention they have a monopoly on the materials used to make our uniforms bullet proof. Understandably, the Chief is a bit nervous about this whole thing.”

Montgomery interrupted, “Hey guys, maybe we should talk about this later when we aren’t being recorded.”

Y/LN pressed her lips together before standing and making her way towards the Wolfe’. Dredd followed close behind. His hand rested on his firearm gently as they got within speaking distance. Judge Wolfe was standing beside them.

In Montgomery’s opinion, her dress was hideous. It was a silver strapless monstrosity. The color plus the copious amounts of ruffles left her looking like a pale scrawny chicken with no breasts. Her badly dyed hair didn’t help matters in the slightest. And she was about to get the shock of her life.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe you are under arrest for fraud, embezzlement and forgery. You’re coming with us.” Y/LN pulled out her cuffs and began restraining the suspects.

Mr. Wolfe stammered, “E...Excuse me? We’ve done no such thing! Where is the proof?”

Dred spoke over Mr. Wolfe’ rambling, “Sir, you know how this goes. We are waiting to sentence you away from your daughter. Don’t make this any harder on yourself.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? These are my parents, they can’t do anything illegal.” Judge Wolfe’ shrill voice pierced through the clamour of the crowd.

“Stand down Judge. This isn’t your case.” Y/LN shot her down. She wasn���t about to deal with her tonight.

“No I will not stand down! I mean seriously, this can’t be happening. They wouldn’t steal. They donate to a bunch of charities-.”

Y/LN finished for her, “While lining their pockets. We’re not going to discuss this further.”

Wolfe whipped out her badge, “I am a Judge too and I order you not to take them.”

Dredd began pulling the Wolfe’s away, “You don’t have that authority. Stop making a fuss.”

“Also, I’m your partner. I know you’re a Judge. You’re supposed to know how this process works,” Y/L/N grumbled.

Wolfe stomped her foot, “If you take another step I’ll arrest you for...uh...kidnapping.”

Y/LN growled, “Wolfe this is your last chance, get out of the way.” Wolfe folded her arms in defiance, “Alright, you’re charged with obstruction of justice. One night in a holding cell.”

Wolfe’ mouth fell open. She didn’t move in time to escape the cuffs and before long all three Wolfe’ were escorted out.

Y/LN let out a large sigh of relief as she smiled at her husband, “That was so satisfying.”

“DAMN FUCKING RIGHT IT WAS!” Both Y/LN and Dredd flinched, grunting at the pain that lanced through their ears.

Dredd growled, “What the fuck, Montgomery?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. That was so cool. I had to put the comms on mute so I didn’t yell your ears off.”

“Don’t worry; I recorded it,” Rodrigez chimed in.

The heavy door on the transport closed with a heavy thunk. The Wolfes all hung their heads in shame. Y/N was about to leave but before she could get very far, something tugged on her hand.

She turned to see Dredd giving her only what she could call a sheepish grin. She couldn’t stop her answering smile from spreading across her lips.

“What?”

“Well.” He pulled her closer until their bodies were pressed together. “I can’t help but notice that you’re all nice and dressed up.”

She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body molding against his, “You look rather handsome yourself.”

Dredd chuckled, “Why thank you. Now, we have a rare opportunity presented to us. We are both dressed up, out on the town and have the rest of the night free. Fuck the Wolfe. They’ll still be there in the morning.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, “Judge Dredd, putting off the law?”

He pressed his lips against hers, silencing her before pulling her away from the gathering crowd. They quickly disappeared into a nearby hotel. Y/N laughed nervously as she looked around.

The place was decorated lavishly. Even though they’d never been here before it was obvious it’d been decorated for some event. The chandeliers glinted like thousands of stars against a marble ceiling. Plush chairs were set around a large fireplace. Tables and desks shone with an intense red that Dredd didn’t know could belong to wood.

A clerk dressed in a tux glanced up from the front desk, “Hello, are you two here for the Midnight Gala?”

Dredd pressed his lips together, “ Yes?”

The clerk nodded before typing quickly on his computer, “Names please?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/LN,” Y/N answered.

After a few clicks he smiled, “Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Y/LN I’m so glad you could make it. I have your reservations right here. Would you like me to print out your invitations?”

Dredd shared a look with his wife before replying, “That’d be great.”

As they were being escorted through the hotel, Y/N leaned over to her husband, “What the fuck?”

The comms buzzed to life, “You’re welcome.”

“Montgomery? You’ve got to stop this, you’re being creepy.”

“Then turn off your cameras.”

Y/N grumbled before finally asking, “You did this?”

Montgomery chuckled, “You two looked so adorable such busy busy Judges. I figured you could use the break.”

Y/LN smiled despite the fact that the Handler couldn’t see her, “That’s awfully sweet of you. So, what’re you planning?”

“Nothing.” She replied. “But after you’re done I”ll be rooting for you to fuck him sideways.”

Y/N suppressed the urge to admonish her but instead turned off her camera and squeezed Dredd’s elbow, urging him to do the same.

#dredd x reader #judge dredd x reader #dredd imagines #judge dredd imagine #dredd imagine #reader insert #the montgomery files #Dredd OCs

[arcadequeerz]

WS AU Henry, Human/prestudio WS Sammy, N WS AU Linda!

>Picrew<

-Lil Facts!-

Henry bi transman! his pronouns r he/him!

Sammy prestudio is in the closet,  but they’re queer! Gender? Sexuality? They’re queer. Their pronouns r He/They/She Sammy is also Autistic!

Linda is Queer amab nonbinary!!! Her pronouns r she/her or they/them. Her n Henry get married a bit after his quite from the studio.

uUUH post studio after Henry n Sammy escape- they are together, n eventually Sammy, Henry n Linda r all together n In Love polyam rights!!!!!!!! Sammy gets: a lovely Husband and darling spouse who love them very much. She also feels safe enough, n trusts the two them enough to come out to them!!! They love her v mch.

-Prestudio Sam doens’t actually have the tail or ears its just relevant to the au, n also- is cute. d:>c They usually keep her hair up in a ponytail, n Linda does as well. Sammy’s 6′4, Henry’s 5′4 and Linda’s 5′10

>uuuuh rly shitty basic summary of the au<

(me n my friend Kit @apxlllo(who works on the au with me, and has written so mch Lovely stuff for the au) do plan to write up a proper post/more detailed summary on the au soon hopefully!, this is just a v basic barebones summary of the au I wrote up- A looot of stuff has been left out, this is just a gist of things! We also hav a doc for au stuff tht I hope to eventually try n get organized at Some point tht I’ll Post whenever its done)

To Sum things up in Short: Sammy after being killed by Bendy after having tried sacrificing Henry, comes back, crawling out of the ink puddles only to get captured by Alice/Susie. Their dragged back to her lair and once there she decides to make use of him, and starts to rip him open, pull his insides out and pull him apart to turn him into another of her monsters- She removes his insides, and starts to replace them with Butchered Boris guts, and she starts to notice how his body is reacting to it- absorbing the ink and she finds that Very interesting. When she’s finished with this- done Torturing him basically, prodding his insides and pulling them apart, she sews him back up before injecting some of her own ink into him, Which links the two of them which in turn means she can Control/Influence them in a sense. After this is done to him- He ends up transforming into a big Inky weremonster(Who I call Were-Sammy) for the first time, the process is..Extremely painful, and she watches it happen, smiling the entire time.

Oh he’s simply PERFECT, She can definitely use him to her advantage..he’d make a perfect monster for her. Initially though, His form is quite unstable, which causes him to erratically turn back and forth(which is very painful mind you-) so while she’s fine tuning him, working on her newest monster, Henry continues to be her lil errand boy. 

Until, Sammy is finally acting like she wants.

She can force him to turn into his wereself whenever she wishes him to, and his first order is to kill that Animator running around HER studio- She sends him after Henry, fully expecting him to come back covered in his blood, or at least carrying his Corpse, but instead, he comes back, tail between his legs, having not been able to kill Henry(there’s more to this in the au but!), She’s quite mad at him for this. Forces him to turn back to himself, far faster then Normal, leaving him a melted mess on the floor as she shouts at him about how she wants Results- and if she doesn’t get them she might just have to pull him open again- he begs her not to, he can kill them- He swears, She just says she wants results, she wants him dead, and she wants it Now- Before he can react. She’s forcing him to turn again, And sets her monster off back on their goal to kill Henry.

She keeps sending him after Henry- But he keeps coming back empty handed every time which just enrages her more with each time, Making her lash out at him, He’ll turn back and she’ll immediately force him to turn again, and when their too weak for that, she lets him have a Little rest, which just consists of him locked in a single room, chained to a wall so he can’t escape, before she decides he’s rested enough, and walks into the room to drag him out to force him to turn again. In the beginning, Every time she’d open the door, he’d scream, beg her not to, struggle against her, kick and scream but after a while he just, Stopped trying. There was no reason to delay the inevitable. there was no stopping it. So he gave up Fighting it, or trying. 

Eventually, At some point while Hunting Henry she turns back, and Henry finds them. He’s immediately concerned, He wants to help them, tries to approach him but he just screams at him to get the fuck away from him- to just leave him, to get Away from them- Because his wereself..Doesn’t really LIKE Henry all that much- because he’s the reason their ‘Angel’  is so cruel and awful to them- He manages to convince Henry to leave him, fighting back his wereself to keep himself from changing, which lets Henry get away as he finally can’t hold it back anymore. Henry runs away, as he hears Sammy’s screaming, the sound of bone breaking, and at that moment he realizes the new Monster Alice made is Sammy- He decides then he needs to save him, to get him away from Alice.

After that Henry has two goals, One: Save Sammy, and Two: Escape the studio with him. At some point Henry is able to get Sammy away from Alice- n then the two are working together/sticking together to get out of the studio, While dealing with the hassle of Sammy just, randomly turning into his wereself, and the problems with himself being a big Inky weremonster. Also in the process of this...The two get close, end up falling for each other, In the beginning of Sammy realizing he’s falling for Henry, he tries Desperately to convince himself he hasn’t, he doesn’t love him, and tries to lie to himself that he Doesn’t, There’s no happy endings here, he shouldn’t- but he can’t lie to himself, for the first time in so long, he has Hope, He feels hope because Henry assures him they’ll get out of here, that they’ll escape- Together- and truly, for the first time it feels so possible, Henry is so caring to him- he’s so kind to him- He can’t lie to himself that he hasn’t fallen for Henry, that he doesn’t Love him- even if he does try telling himself that in the beginning.

Henry feels the same, He loves Sammy so much and he’d do anything for him- he means the world to him, and he’s the reason he keeps fighting to get out, to get him out of there, to be free, as well as to see Linda again- but he fights for them both to get out of this inky hell, Together- he won’t leave without him.

The two become very close, become much more then just companions or friends, ending up together, and eventually they DO escape the studio: Together, and live with Linda at her and Henry’s home. After being there for a bit, Linda and Sammy grow close, end up falling in love, and all three of them are together and love one another very Much- Linda and Henry? Love their amazing inky wife so Much, and Sammy loves them too, he’s never felt so happy- and so Full of love as she does now with them- they mean the world to him and she is so thankful to have them in his life, and get to wake up every morning to them both.

BUT- YEAH! This is the gist of the au- i left out a lot of like specific Scenes in the au, like Before Sammy and Henry leave the studio- Susie/Alice is killed, that’s a big scene in the au- amongst stuff tht happens with Bendy once outside the studio- buuut YEAH- that’s the gist of the au HGDHHGSH Sorry if this is poorly written- or a mess, I do plan to work wqith kit to get a better post on the au up eventually, and plan on organizing the au doc to share soon! Eventually there will be drawings of the lads- Eventually, especially Inky Sammy- There are drawings of Were-Sam you can find on my blog though if you go looking. THOUGH- Here’s a description of Were-Sam, 

Were-Sammy stands about 8, almost 9ft tall, His body is a dark black color that shifts between darker shades of black(this color shifting is quite slow usually, so it isn’t Too noticable), and is covered in melty, inky fur. The fur is soft, but Also melty n he has ink kiind of melting off of him. His hands are semi paw like with sharp claws and his feet are half melted paws. He has a long melty tail covered in melty black fur, the underside of the tails fur is longer/meltier. His ears are long, wide at the base and thinner towards the ends of them. He has long sharp canine like teeth. and his eyes are piecut, a glowy amberish red, and ink of the same color is constantly melting down from his eyes down his face. His inky fur is thicker/longer around his neck and down his back along his spine. Body wise? He’s muscular but also kiinda chubby. I’m not very good at describing body types so forgive me 😔.

n a lil bit on were-sammy specifically:

Were-Sammy is very affectionate to both Linda and Henry and love them both very much, he’s a big Lovable fool, jus a big Puby. Sometimes when Sammy turns, He’s just themselves, other times their far more wolf then herself. Were-sammy is very nice to them both- very lovable and very protective. He is...good sweet lad, and Linda and Henry lov their big Monster Husband so much. Were-sammy? Good boy. Also due to being a weremonster, Sammy does have his more monstery traits come out when he isn’t even in their wereform! Such as: Howling(both Linda and Henry find it great fun to howl to try and get Sammy to- They do not appreciate it), growling, whining, n at times acting Kiiind of like his wereself, one specific thing is: when Linda or Henry come home from being out- she gets SO HAPPY AND EXCITED TO SEE THEM- Immediately has to get up and rush over to the door to greet them and hug them- He’s very affectionate, and snuggly! He does have a ‘half’ form he will occasionally shift into, Which is pretty much him gaining his claws, sharper teeth and his ears n tail, as well as gettin Kinda fluffie(aka getting some of his fur, specifically going down his back- Soft), In his half form they tend to act more of their wereself at times- and are very excitable!!! jus...good puby..

#Were-Sammy AU #I am mch too nervous to put this in the fandom tag nbnfhngh bYUT HHH YEAH #This au means a l;ot to me. i hav sm fun babbling bout it with my friemd kit!!! he was n is a big help with workinb on the au with me! d:"D #he's the reason i asctuslly did more ewith thr au!!!! he's written tons oif lovely stuff for the au n he's made ws bendy #easily one of my fave au bendys(up there with ss bendy) #HHTHJRFHG D O LET ME KNow if u like the au............i weuld like to hear wht u giys think #MGHHGDG SHY BOUT sharing my au stuff HGBHFHGVG #ENJOY THO GMFMHDHG #I rly love ws au sammy- they mean sm to me now d:> i lov thm............ #SORRY IF THIS POST IS. A MESS.

[projectsoleil]

NOW STREAMING... MOON ROVER ADVENTURES S5EP18: THE SUNRISE FINALE | GABRIELLE MORNINGSTAR | CHAPTER 3 EXECUTION

Gabi finds himself in the arms of a couple people as the votes finish being counted, as his fate is decided. The hugs are returned as tightly as possible, clutching with every ounce of strength left in him, until the other person is shaking with him. When they pull away, he whispers thanks. 

(Being held is only reminding him of the arms of the few he wants nothing more than to be in right now—face buried in Abe's shoulder, hidden against his chest with his lips pressed to the crown of his head; the soothing touch of Pheo's damaged hands through his curls, soft whispers of assurance; the swirling heat of a hearth and the unwavering, unshaking, protective embrace of Gale. Gabi rubs the heel of his hand over the tears burning down his cheeks instead, head down, and casts his gaze to—)

(—Hawk?)

Hawk crashes to the floor in an awful thump, convulsing on the ground while Tyr’s expression remains one that wasn’t joy at the situation, rather, dread at what was coming next. From Hawk, their attention went to Gabi, who's pupils were shrunk, trembling.

[Mr. Morningstar...it’s time...]

Tyr approaches Gabi slowly and offers their nub to him, though instead of taking it, the young man scoops Tyr up into his arms, holding him like one would a toddler or cat. For another hug, or in hopes to keep him from shooting at anyone else? From AI-T's podium, Rover suddenly goes rigid, and looking more robot-like than he ever has, turns and starts walking stiffly towards them. The redheaded bot stops once they get to the usual spot by the wall, and Gabi turns to look at him momentarily. A hand is lifted, and albeit shaky, presses against the center of the star on Rover's chest. The door in the wall pulls open, and as they turn back to give the room one last look, Fenrir, who has been silently waiting, shoves his phone against Maxwell's chest, then along with Galehaut, jumps to attention—bolting towards them.

"Fuck all that! Fuck all this!" Galehaut shouts. "When I said on our own terms, I meant it! Moon, I'm not gonna let them—!"

As they quickly approach, Tyr offers a small apology to the one that held them in his arms...

[I am sorry, Mr. Morningstar.]

They raise their nub, and like with Hawk, out launches a small pod shaped object that latches onto both of them and sends a powerful shock through their bodies. 

Ah—Gabi grips Tyr tightly to his chest and makes a terrible, strangled sound as the two join Hawk on the floor. His gaze rips from them to stare wide-eyed and glossy at the rest of the room. He shakes his head a few times, backing up, backing up. Lips parted, like he's trying to say something, but his voice never reaches them—Rover steps between Gabi and the rest of you, obscuring the smaller body from view. The bot looks over his shoulder and gives the room an empty, dark, protective look, before the door slams shut, taking them away. 

A minute passes...two...three...until finally the screen lights up with the single message:

PLEASE ENJOY THE PRESENTATION WE HAVE PREPARED

before fading back to black.

[TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF BEING BEATEN, GORE] 

…

The lights dim, casting your cohort into a spill of long stretching shadows. There's a brief silence that follows, until a familiar, cheery theme song begins to chime through the room, growing in volume as the television screen flickers to life.

♫♪ i can reach all the stars in the sky with you by my side! ♪♫

The obnoxious tune of children singing is accompanied with a cartoon music video of what looks like a television show—shooting stars fall across the screen in a sparkly transition effect, opening up to the robot you’ve all grown familiar with over the course of the last month, cartoonified and walking around the moon to the beat of the song. 

♫♪ and if we don't make it today, we'll try, try, try again another day! ♪♫

He's decked out in his hero suit, grinning ear to ear at the audience, and begins leaping from the moon to another planet. It plays in this sort of loop, with Moon Rover marching on rotating planets, waving at passing cartoon versions of.. well, you! He passes by Fenrir and gives him two high-fives, Snapshot he hip-checks, waving at Zero Sum and Oleander on a water-themed planet, Angel they clang a wine glass with...

♫♪ so let's shoot for the stars, and hang out on the moon, and together we'll be anything, anything, anything we've ever wanted to be! ♪♫

It ends with Moon Rover landing on the Earth, joining the rest of the show's cast. Heroes and villains in dramatic poses, making up your full group, including Collin and Ivo hovering by the sides of the screen. 

Well... it includes everyone but one.

We zoom in on the cartoon Rover, who winks at the audience and gestures to follow him, before turning around into a transition. When the scene returns, we're joined with the real Rover, standing in what looks like the middle of the foyer of a massive house. He grins bright, wide, and opens his arms up to the viewers. 

“HEYY, STAR TROOP! ‘m so glad y’were able to tune in today!" 

He places his hands on his hips, leaning forward into the camera. 

“Y’ready for today’s mission? T’day we got somethin’ a little different — we’re takin’ a trip back t’my childhood home! Keheh—betcha thought I lived in a rocket, yeah? Nope! I came from a house, just like yours!” 

The hero beams at the audience and takes a step back, allowing the camera to sweep over the area better: yeah, he is in a foyer—the main entrance of a mansion—except, it’s as if someone has destroyed the place. Pictures are ripped from the wall, furniture toppled over--there’s areas that are just straight up blown up, holes broken through walls, the chandelier hanging slanted, too covered in char to glisten anymore, parts of the staircases caved in. Tire marks are burnt into the floor, the walls, the ceiling.   

There’s a 360 degree pan of the entrance, before it stops on Rover, where he’s gesturing to follow him again. He walks over broken wood and ash, until he gets to a form laying on the floor behind a fallen loveseat: bound at the wrists and ankles, Moon is trying to wiggle himself free.  

“Today we’ve got a suuuuper special guest!” He squats down next to Moon, grabbing a fistfull of his hair and pulling his head up off the floor. The boy winces, pieces of glass and dirt stuck into his cheeks. “The villain who hurt poor, poor Venus! An' subsequently hurt loads more through his choices! I already went ahead an' caught him, so, of course, all what's left is teachin' this no-good hooligan a lesson! Will you help me, Star Troop??"

There’s a blur of movement, and the binds on Moon’s hands and feet are cut—he immediately goes to scramble away, but with a simple step on the corner of his hoodie, he slams back to the ground. Nonchalantly, without hesitation or warning, Rover kicks Moon in the stomach—knocking him backwards in a cry.

Despite being kicked aside like a limp doll, Moon pushes himself up onto his elbows, grimacing, and begins crawling. Rover strolls slowly after him, easy and with a bounce to his step. When he reaches him, he bends down to grab the collar of his shirt, pick him up, and punch him directly in the jaw. It isn't pretty, the next seconds—if this were cinematic in any definition of the word, the moment would be done through silhouettes, the shadow of Rover pulling his arm back and bringing it down mercilessly into the smaller man's form, the ugly sounds of flesh being beaten being the only sense of how awful it is.

You don't get that pleasure. You see it all: no pretty cuts or dramatic angles to censor the boy's face splitting open, blood spilling up from fractured ribs into wet coughs, red splattering across Rover's hero costume. If anyone else was in his place, literally anyone else in the courtroom, this would be solved in an instant — a magma punch, a swipe of a sword, the crack of lightning, and this wouldn’t even be a fight. But Moon isn’t a hero. Not in the super-deep, metaphoric sort of way, but just that: Moon was a civilian. 

He’s dropped to the ground in a gross crack, whining, but moving regardless. He scrambles to his feet this time, using the help of a chair thrown on its side. He runs. He isn’t fast, especially now with his hand clutched to his chest, wheezing, but he runs… not to the front door like you’d expect, but deeper into the mansion. Rover walks behind him, chatting to the audience, you suppose, but now you’re following Moon. 

A door is flug open, and he staggers into a huge workshop. For someone who is frequently found scrawling on his arms to organize roaring thoughts and ideas, the place is surprisingly spotless, orgazined: filled with tools and kilns and forges and anvils. Computer software you know costs millions just by the sight. The young man’s eyes dart desperately around the room, and he makes a bee-line for the back wall full of displayed gear. A weapon? Is he looking for something to use? He grabs a pair of gauntlets first, something similar to Galehaut’s color scheme, before throwing them on the ground. A pair of yellow lense goggles—no. A botched looking race car—no. A pair of motorized wheelies—no. Equipment, equipment, equipment! He didn’t make weapons! He didn’t— 

“Found ya!” 

—whack!— 

Something whizzes past Moon’s head, smacking his hand away from the wall in the process. He turns around, and a small, helicopter-like birdbot is hovering in the air in front of him. Moon blinks, and then the bird shoots forward, whacking him a few more times in the head. It looks less like it hurts, and more like it’s just a distraction. The boy stumbles to the side, tripping over a small dogbot waddling by his feet. He crashes into the wall, and an array of different gear topples over.

It’s more pathetic than tragic, watching his own work fall on his head. He collapses under the weight, but ever-stubborn, ever-determined, ever-unbreakable, Moon whines and pushes his way out, tries to get to his feet once, fails, twice, fails again, and on the third—

—on the third, a red hand snaps forward and grips his throat, pulls him free, and dangles him up into the air, grinning widely. 

“Didn’t think y’could run, didja? Y’know, people want y’blood! They voted for it! Y’think I could let down the Star Troop now?? After how badly ya did?? They need someone they can trust, afterall!”

Moon grips Rover’s forearm with both his hands, clawing weakly at his gloves. The tips of his toes can just barely reach the pile of gear beneath him, so he’s at the very least got a bit of footing. Not that it matters—it’s no use, of course it’s no use—Moon reaches out to push at his bot’s face, push him away, do anything, anything— ah, wait? No.. he’s.. 

With a trembling hand, Moon sinks three of his fingers into the back of Rover’s head, prompting a hatch to pull away and open up in his chest, exposing a variety of wires and a pinpad. Rover doesn’t seem concerned, just keeps on holding Moon by the neck, even as the blonde starts fumbling a code in the pad.

He's dying. A small red button opens up between all the switches and buttons in Rover’s chest, and Moon's frantic, desperate reaching for the button slows down considerably. Really, it's kind of anti-climatic for a death, nevermind a supposed fantastical execution. Maybe that was what Moon deserved, though — something quiet, uneventful, alone. 

Click! 

...Just kidding! He presses the button. Rover’s grip falls away immediately, dropping Moon in a heap on the floor and leaving him doubled over, gasping and coughing, gulping down air like he'd been drowning. In front of him, Rover’s expression seems frozen, and his body begins… going limp? No, no.. it almost looks like he’s.. shutting down? A second later, Rover has joined Moon on his knees in front of him, his smile frozen, his shoulders slumping, his right eye flashing red. His right eye flashing red.. slowly. 

“...keh..” 

There is hardly any distance between the two, but when Moon pushes himself up and wraps his arms around his robot, hooking his chin on his shoulder, the effort looks akin to dragging your hands down a wall of glass shards. 

“...’bout.. time we wrapped this up, huh?” His voice would’ve been impossible to hear had this not been meant for entertainment — hoarse, whisper-quiet.

The sentence seems to, somehow, despite the red light increasing in speed, prompt a corrupt, laggy voice to start speaking: “..S-S-SHOOT FOR THE STARS—!” 

“—even.. if y’miss..” 

Moon grabs fistfulls of the back of Rover’s suit, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“..you’ll land on the—!”

…

…

[♫♪♫♪♫♪] 

The screen blacks out, rattling — the sound from the speakers blowing out from sheer force of the explosion. You… you feel like you should feel it in the courtroom—the floor shaking and rumbling beneath you, but you don’t. Somehow, it makes it feel more empty. More far away. 

As the scene settles, the dust and smoke beginning to clear, you notice blood splattered on the lense of the camera—blurred and out of focus, but unmistakably blood. Debris and metal parts are scattered everywhere, wires twisted and still burning like lit fuses. Something drips from the ceiling, and you're unsure if it's blood or a combination of that and flesh. But more importantly, you see the remains of a human body — the parts you'd never want to see; splintered bone, limbs still stuck in clothes, a head in the corner of the scene, blonde hair smoking, lulling on the slanted floor, and what you catch sight of his face is burnt through to the inside of his mouth, burnt through to his skull.

He looks like he was screaming, and though you know he wasn't in his last moments, this image will likely be the thing you remember when you think of him.

...

Life is continuous. 

Tonight, the sky will finish clearing the storm and the moon will glow across the horizon like it has every other night, and how it will continue to shine for every other night after this. For nothing has really changed—and that's the bonus of playing a stage hero robot that could be replicated, right? Built on? Upgraded? For years and years and years to come, beyond your short life, he can still do something amazing without you. 

Yeah, the world will keep going on without you. 

You wanted that.

(Didn't you?) 

[Gabrielle & Rover Morningstar have been executed.] 

(thank you han for the art!)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 246: Plot Whiplash

Previously on BnHA: Hawks handed Endeavor a copy of Re-Destro’s NYT bestseller and was all “ಠ_ಠ READ THIS!!” He then flew off back to the PLF and was all “hey guys just got back from handing out free copies of Destro’s book to everyone in a 1000-mile radius, which absolutely nobody asked me to do, well anyways you can thank me later” and they were all “SWEET.” Back at the Endeavor HQ, Bakugou got all fired up to BUST SOME HEADS but Endeavor’s sidekicks were all “WAIT FOR THE PLOT YOUNG MAN.” Meanwhile in his office, Endeavor discovered a secret code in the book Hawks gave him, which basically read “HEY WHAT’S UP THE LEAGUE HAS TAKEN OVER THE MLA AND HAS AN ARMY OF 100,000 PEOPLE” and Endeavor was like “!!!!” And then we cut to the League and Toga was all “IN FOUR MONTHS TOMURA IS BLOWING THIS SHIT TO KINGDOM COME” and then the chapter just ended. Sometimes it be like that.

Today on BnHA: Tomura sits down with Ujiko who monologues a bit about Quirk Singularity and then starts some sort of quirk-upgrading process which will apparently take four months to fully set in. And also he’s like “oh btw let me tell you about One for All” so THAT’S A THING NOW, GREAT. We then cut back and forth between Endeavor and Hawks, who both somehow come to the weird conclusion that THE INTERNS ARE OUR ONLY HOPE NOW using logic that is hard to explain on account of THERE ACTUALLY ISN’T ANY LOGIC BEHIND IT, SHHH. But anyway, so Endeavor figures out the rest of Hawks’s message and he knows that Hawks is trying to figure out what the League is up to, and something something that’s why the internships are so important. Like, I get that the Terrible Trio are future legends in the making, but these guys are seriously like “well okay let’s just go ahead and rest all our hopes on them” out of the blue, and Hawks has this big monologue about how “THINGS WON’T GO ACCORDING TO YOUR PLAN, VILLAINS” and okay then!! And then the last two pages are basically just DID SOMEBODY ORDER SOME HYPE with more shit going on than I can possibly sum up so I won’t even try lol. But damn.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.) 

okay guys, I’m feeling kinda under the weather today, but I know this chapter’s gonna be good so lesssssss gooooooo. bring me back to life Horikoshi

(ETA: lol well there sure was a lot happening in this chapter, that’s for sure. my head hurts.)

oooooh it’s a sexy Jump cover celebrating season 4!

I really need the anime team to step up and give Ochako and Tsuyu some more screentime in the Basement Arc since the manga did not do them justice. there’s only like a 20% chance of that happening, which is depressing, but it’s 2019 and the winds are slowly changing, albeit at a geriatric pace. so I’ll allow myself to have some hope. you never know

YEAH SON LOOK AT THIS COLOR SPREAD Y’ALL THIS IS RAD

hello I love everything about this. the colors, the focus on our best girls, Deku’s bizarre-yet-awesome assorted sci-fi accessories (Deku do those headphones let you communicate with space or what), and of course, the five million TVs in the background which for some reason all appear to be from the 70s. all of this to remind us to TUNE IN TOMORROW FOR THE LONG-AWAITED SEASON 4 DEBUT. I will definitely tune in! the first episode is just gonna be the usual half filler/half clip show, but honestly season 3 was so good that I could sit through a whole hour of nothing but highlights and still be thoroughly entertained

anyway let’s move on because there are GAMES AFOOT, and we’re hopefully about to learn which direction this arc will be headed in!

OH SHIT OH FUCK

yep, that’s him. Shigaraki “destruction incarnate” Tomura. I see we’re getting our weekly dose of “just a reminder that WE ARE SCREWED” even earlier than usual this chapter, huh

so does anyone else get a chill up their spine every time Ujiko makes an appearance, or is that just me? like, god. he may honestly be even creepier than AFO. he’s just completely soulless, this guy. he’s got like this Mengele vibe to him (though that may be kinda dicey to compare horrific real-life atrocities to fictional ones in a shounen manga, but I’m just trying to explain why I find him so disturbing) and it really freaks me the hell out, ngl. anyways so him wearing a surgical mask and standing in front of this weird examination chair is pretty much the last thing I need right now. go away Ujiko

so Tomura is all “I want it cuz you promised, so pay up jackass”, and like. fair, though

I really like this new art style Horikoshi’s been using for him since his Awakening. kinda curious how it’s going to translate to the anime, or even to a color spread. but at the very least in black and white it looks siiiiick

smh look at this little punk trying to downplay how insanely freaking overpowered his quirk currently is

okay first of all, “President Baldy” is only alive because you left him alive. and he also had to chop off his own legs to stay that way. like, what kind of argument is this, Tomura? “this power is far from invincible, all my enemies have to do is amputate their own limbs and then they’ll have me right where they want me.” you know what, just go on and destroy the world right now kid. you’re getting greedy now and it could be your undoing

that is a nice parallel between him and Deku there, though. now I’m craving some Symbolic Artwork of them standing back to back each holding out their scarred right arms. maybe with their respective mentors in the background. here at BnHA we prefer our parallels nice and dramatic

sdskfjlaskdj

son of a bitch. I really wish he wouldn’t say that with such utter certainty. “the next conflict will be our last.” cue me flipping through the BnHA table of contents and trying to determine just how far along we actually are here, because this is veering dangerously close to Final Battle signaling, and like, ALREADY?? TOMURA ARE YOU JUST BEING THEATRICAL OR ARE YOU FOR REAL OMG. motherfucking DARK LORD’S LIPS curling into the WICKEDEST FUCKING CRESCENT I’VE EVER SEEN, fuck me

(ETA: it occurs to me on readthrough #2 that “the next conflict will be our last” could be interpreted to mean him and All Might specifically. like, the last conflict between the two of them. and that might very well be true, and would not surprise me at all. shit.)

fjsgk now Ujiko’s talking about research. and quirks!! glkjlkl

fully expecting the camera to cut to some NOUMUS any second now oh my god. also trying not to think about how crazy ominous that fucking chair looks. and how many people this maniac has probably strapped down to it and done god knows what to them. hey Horikoshi you know what, I’ve had just about enough of this dark shit, can we please cut back to my kids now I’m feeling too unsettled. goddammit

anyhow of course we are NOT cutting away, and Ujiko is continuing to talk about quirk evolution, and now segueing into a speech about that quirk singularity thing. -- which he apparently named?? wow

is he actually going to do something to Tomura? holy shit?? this whole time that they’ve been talking about this “power” I’ve just been assuming it was something external, like some other handy dandy villain resource that AFO’s just been sitting on or something. this is not where I expected things to go. didn’t he just get an upgrade??

anyway so here’s a brief summary I just wrote up of The Past Six Months of BnHA:

Deku: [gets a new quirk]

everyone: bruh. Horikoshi really out here giving Deku AFO Powers while Tomura just sits around starving to death on a couch. what the heck

Horikoshi: [powers up Tomura to the point where he can destroy anything just by it being in contact with something that Tomura happens to be touching] [has Tomura use this power to level an entire city]

everyone: -- oh. okay, you know what, never mind --

Horikoshi: [gives Tomura an army of 100,000 people] [also gives him command of 11 extremely lethal and nigh-unstoppable killing machines, just one of which was almost enough to take out the number one hero, LITERALLY THE STRONGEST GUY THE GOOD GUYS CURRENTLY HAVE IN RESERVE]

everyone: okay we’re sorry we get it you can sto --

Horikoshi: APOCALYPSE IN FOUR MONTHS!!!

everyone: WE GET IT WE’RE SORRY PLEASE

Horikoshi: [GIVES TOMURA ANOTHER POWER-UP]

everyone: [curled up in fetal position sobbing]

starting to think the mangaka might be the actual final villain here. hmm

anyway. so I guess we have four months until Tomura ascends to Actual Godhood and proceeds to rain hellfire down upon the world. what are you all gonna do with your four months. I personally have a lot of stuff to binge, but knowing me I’ll probably just waste all my time reading fanfic while youtube videos play in the background which I’m not paying any attention to. what am I doing with my life

oh were we not done hyping him up? there’s more??

(ETA: I got so caught up in the OFA comment I didn’t pay attention to Tomura becoming a beautiful decayed butterfly in this exquisitely creepy panel here. but damn.)

-- HOLD THE FUCK UP. does Tomura know about One for All??? because I was under the impression that AFO hadn’t told him? this would change a lot if he knew this entire time, holy shit?!

aaaaaaaaand exactly one panel later Horikoshi is all “no he didn’t know calm the fuck down” lol

okay then. so he didn’t know, and he’s only just finding out now. well tbh that’s still worthy of a smiling crying emoji face though :’) this is fineeee

shit here we go oh shit

-- WAIT, SO WE’RE JUST CUTTING AWAY FROM THEM? NOW YOU CUT AWAY? YOU GET WITHIN INCHES OF CONFIRMING THE FUCKING ALL FOR ONE FOR ALL THEORY AND THEN IT’S JUST “ANYWAYS HERE’S ENDEAVOR” YOU KNOW WHAT, HORIKOSHI, I --

just. come on dude. AFOFA 2019! let’s make it happen! dammit

sigh, so looks like it’s back to the admittedly-still-epic “Hawks passes down secret information about the villains to Endeavor” plot. I guess we’re not exactly hurting for good plots all around. I may complain but honestly we are spoiled

so Hawks is saying that he actually doesn’t know the specifics of the villains’ plans yet. well shit

apparently his feathers can only pick up sounds from short range, and the villains keep escorting him away whenever they get to talking about the good stuff. well at least that explains that potential plot hole from last week. Hawks’s feathers may have a short range, but Horikoshi’s plot hole caulking gun can fill in leaky plot holes from fucking miles away. amazing

ffffffff

don’t mind me I’m just sitting here fretting about Hawks continuing to be in mortal danger and risking his life to gather information in a race against time against the end of the world. Horikoshi out here piling up stakes like a freaking vampire hunter

but in the meantime, everyone please stop what you’re doing for a moment to look at this absolute unit of a bellhop slash security guard

apologies Lord Vader he was just trying to get to the dining hall. my bad. as you were

and holy shit I hope you enjoyed that light comedic break because two seconds later Re-Destro has dropped in to fixate Hawks with one of those Lightly Menacing Smiles he’s so infamous for. so that’s just fucking great!

HAWKS WATCH OUT FOR YOUR FINGERS

omg. imagine, a showdown between the two stealth murder MVPs of the series, Yotsubashi “Sleeper Hold” Rikiya (yes I did have to look up his real name just now) and Takami “Tag Em And Bag Em” Keigo. true, RD may no longer have legs, but he didn’t need them to choke out our little mouse buddy now did he? anyways speaking of which I just remembered that I fucking hate Re-Destro and I honestly hope Hawks does kill him. it’d be pretty easy to fit him into a bag too. he’s basically just a torso and arms now

oh sure Horikoshi go ahead and spring this on me after all of that ranting why don’t you

by the way does Re-Destro have Robot Legs now, or

looool he does

I will say this for Horikoshi, he knows my weaknesses. more robot limbs please. either badass or memeable ones, either is fine

meanwhile I skipped over this panel of Hawks and Twice being buddies in order to get to the legs, and shame on me for that. let’s go back

Twice is a genuinely good guy and I hope Hawks can tell. I wonder how fake this smile is. I feel like it’d be easy to relax around Twice regardless of how tense you are about your secret spy mission which could go south at any time. anyways this is wholesome

and now we’re cutting back to Endeavor who is taking his sweet time reacting to this whole thing. Endeavor can you fucking chill with the poker face already geez

okay wait, what

are you serious?! I fucking can’t with this lady. “now make sure to throw these children directly into the line of fire! it’s good for them and builds character!” I’m sorry, I thought this was the Hero Public Safety Commission, not the Putting Juveniles Directly Into Harm’s Way Commission?? at least change the acronym to something more appropriate then. Heinous Pathetic Soulless Cowards. just a suggestion. jesus

anyway so for a moment I got confused as to whether this was implying that she’d told Endeavor about Hawks’s undercover mission. but it seems like he’s still unaware. shouldn’t be too long before he puts the pieces together though at this rate

lol in the very next panel, even

meanwhile you’re just sitting on your ass reading a book! FUCKING DO SOMETHING ALREADY, ENDEAVOR

so he’s thinking that the “preparation” part of Hawks’s message is referring to the interns. let me back up a sec and write down the entire message as he’s read it thus far

“four months from now / rising to action / until then / will send / signals / in case / of failure / preparation / numbers”

...read like that, it really does sound like Hawks is advocating to get as many soldiers ready as possible. even if that includes actual children. including Endeavor’s own son. shit. I mean, I get that they don’t have much of a choice, but that’s still so fucked up. sure, we as omniscient readers know that Deku is their one and only hope, but they don’t know that. as far as they know these are just a bunch of teenagers with less than a year’s worth of experience that they’re propping up on the front lines. and the plan is then... what? hope they don’t die too quickly?? fuck

Hawks is out here having an argument with me in his thoughts. you wanna play it like that, Hawks? fine

I don’t know what kind of “but” you can tag on to the end of that paragraph that could possibly win me over, dude, but go for it I guess

and we’re finally cutting back to the kids in question now! with Burnin’ casually trying to crush Kacchan’s hopes and dreams

okay but I love how both Deku and Shouto are like “easy there buddy, we got you” and trying to keep Kacchan from having a fucking aneurysm sob. JUST TRY AND HOIST HIM ONTO SOME DUMB SIDEKICKS, LADY. YOU’VE MADE A POWERFUL ENEMY HERE TODAY

oh shit

oh my god. are we going to get our first actual interaction between the three of them that doesn’t consist of them grumbling annoyed introductions at each other and then running off to fight an old fortune teller omggggg

I love how Deku and Bakugou look weirdly intimidated by him lol. Bakugou where did all that “YOU’RE KIND OF A JERK” confidence go all of a sudden

YESSSSSSS

GODDAMMIT, I’M STILL SO MAD AT YOU GUYS FOR BEING ALL “LET’S JUST MAKE THE CHILDREN DO IT,” BUT DAMMIT THEY KICK ASS THOUGH SO I CAN KINDA SEE YOUR POINT

NOW HAWKS IS METAING ABOUT THEM AHHHHHHH

DAMN STRAIGHT THEY WOULD HAVE. BRING ON TOMURA AND ALL OF HIS STUPID POWER-UPS. WOW I’M WEIRDLY HYPED UP ALL OF A SUDDEN WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME

AND FUCKING LOOK AT THIS TWO-PAGE SPREAD AHHHHHHHHHHH

MOTHERFUCKER [WHIPS OUT PEN AND NOTEBOOK] TIME TO ANALYZE THIS BITCH

so Ochako and Tsuyu did indeed go back to intern with Ryuukyuu again! makes sense, she is a top ten hero after all. who’s that with them, though? almost looks like Yanagi from the hair and the mask, but the costume looks different? hmm

I CAN’T BELIEVE IIDA WENT BACK TO INTERN WITH FUCKING MANUAL AGAIN. THIS GUY IS THE BRAN CEREAL OF HEROES. though I fucking love him though so yeah it’s fine

JIROU AND SHOUJI TEAMING UP WITH GANG FUCKING ORCA AW YISS BOYS THIS IS THE GOOD SHIT LET’S GOOOO

KOUDA AND MANGA TEAMING UP WITH WASH OMG. MANGA IS THE ONLY ONE ON THAT TEAM WHO ACTUALLY FUCKING SPEAKS. IS WASH’S SIDEKICK SOME SORT OF BROOM PERSON OMG

A WHOLE FUCKING ACRE OF KIDS HAVE ALL GANGED UP ON THIS CAVEMAN-LOOKING FELLA I DON’T EVEN RECOGNIZE. WHO ARE YOU. DID YOU CROSS OVER FROM THE FANTASY AU

KIRI BACK WITH FG AND BROUGHT TETSUTETSU ALONG FOR THE RIDE HELLS YEAHHHH

KAMINARI AND SERO WITH KAMUI WOODS AND EDGESHOT I’M HYPERVENTILATING AHHH. AND SHIOZAKI TOO!! I’LL JUST PRETEND I DON’T SEE MINETA THERE IN THE CORNER. MIGHT BE TIME TO DUST OFF THE OLD “CANCELLED” STAMP AGAIN BUT WE’LL SEE HOW THINGS GO

WHO ARE MOMO AND TOKAGE AND MINA AND AOYAMA (WHICH BTW IS THE GREATEST HERO TEAMUP OF ALL TIME HOLY SHIT) TEAMING UP WITH!? TELL US. AND PONY AND MONOMA. GODDAMMIT HORIKOSHI

whew! anyway. they’re all still screwed, but by golly that was nice to have that little invigorating breather of life and hope

LOL OH SHIT THERE’S ANOTHER ONE

okay, SOMEONE TELL ME RIGHT THE FUCK NOW WHAT ALL MIGHT IS LOOKING AT OR I’M GONNA LOSE IT. holy shit. he was researching the past users of OFA, wasn’t he? WHAT DID YOU FIND OH GOD. he’s not just upset, he looks one step shy of fucking crying?? did he learn about what happened to Nana’s son and his family, maybe? shit shit shit

so Yanagi is interning with Kendou then? so who was that with Hadou and Ryuukyuu and the rest. one of Ryuukyuu’s sidekicks?

IS THAT FUYUMI (SPOILERS FUCKING YEAH IT IS) AND WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE SHE’S FUCKING PRAYING OMG. it looks like she’s kneeling at a family altar?? like saying a prayer for someone who is PRESUMED DEAD, maybe?? LIKE MAYBE A LONG LOST TWIN BROTHER OH SHIT OUT OF NOWHERE THE HYPE DON’T STOP!!

AND WHY DOES NAO HAVE HIS HAT OFF AND CLUTCHED TO HIS CHEST LIKE HE’S TELLING SOMEONE BAD NEWS. GOD WHAT THE HELL EVEN ARE ALL OF THESE PLOT THINGS HAPPENING ALL OF A SUDDEN. LIKE I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO LOOK NEXT

KUROGIRI AHHHHHHHH

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ERI’S HORN!? DOES ANYONE ELSE SEE THIS?? AIZAWA??? HELLO!?!?

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, TEAM OT3. TIME TO FUCKING SUIT UP. APPARENTLY. WELL ALL RIGHT THEN. [JACKET ZIP] [GUN COCKING SOUND EFFECT] LET’S GO PUNCH ‘EM IN THE MOUTH

y’all. this chapter was like plot whiplash. this went in so many different directions and hinted at so many different things that I’m at a complete fucking loss as to what to process first. but I guess the interns are gonna save us all, somehow. lol okay then

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 246 #shigaraki tomura #hawks #endeavor #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #horikoshi: [makes tomura sexy] #everyone: okay that part is fine I guess #horikoshi: [tells tomura about one for all] #me: :') :') :') :') :') :') :') :') :') welp

[psychoticparadox]

Introduction

So here we go again... I can’t even begin to guess how many times I’ve tried to be consistent with my blogging, but here goes another attempt.

As I go through life, I witness changes in myself & my environment as a whole.. Experiences build me and mold me, etc. Hopefully I am evolving throughout this process, but life is a roller coaster and I’m somehow still hanging on.

So, let’s get into this introduction a bit more with an ABOUT ME, shall we?

I think a proper greeting is due, so....

HELLO THERE! *waves*

My name is Angel. I am a shy introvert that over-analyzes every damn thing. Its both a nightmare and some cases enjoyable; depending who appreciates it and/or encourages it...if that makes sense. Some people admire my deep over-analyzing to details and therefore it energizes me and makes life as a whole FUCKING AMAZING...and simply put; WORTH LIVING. I literally crave this and thrive on this. This is my drive and simply put; keeps my crazy ass going.

Others will throw up road blocks that cause me to literally CRASH... I just shut down and become isolated, too afraid to share my most inner desires, dreams, identity, etc. When I shut down, I literally go into psychosis and helplessly drown in my own head. Often times, I contemplate suicide, as I feel so lost and engulfed in darkness... surrounded by loneliness and severe depression/anxiety. My self worth is fucked during those moments as my drive is deprived from my surroundings. 

I am a Cancer Crab Zodiac, but was suppose to be born as a Gemini. My mother was pregnant with me for 10 months vs the “normal” 9 months. So I tend to take on both zodiac characteristics which makes shit even more fucking complicating. 

I went to college for (too fucking long) for Psychology, Nursing, Law, and Arts. My passion seems to mostly be future based as a whole with whatever my surroundings may be. This means I may be adaptable, but also skip around like an ADD fucktard. 

Which brings me to my next “about me”; I studied Psychology due to my vast diagnosis. I have been diagnosed with the following..... *clears throat*.... oh wait, I’m typing....so um..... *cracks knuckles*....... 

Schizophrenia, Bipolar 1, ADD, BPD, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, Narcolepsy, Cataplexy, OCD, Epilepsy, CPTSD, Aspergers, Legally Blind, Dyslexia ...the list just keeps going.... 

By now, I’m sure you’re thinking... “HOLY FUCK THIS CHICK IS NUTS”..... yes, yes I am, but it also helps me see the world so different at the same time, and helps me be more understanding. If I could explain it in a lump-sum, it helps me see the world in different shades of colors others may not see. I see many are misunderstood and therefore went into Psychology to help anyone else through their battles. I had to face most of my battles alone, in silence, and don’t want anyone else to feel how I did; alone. Its one of the worst fucking feelings there is, and I thrive in helping others problem solve, plan for the future, come up with a game plan, etc. I find the human mind so fascinating and just can’t help but gravitate to increasing my knowledge of it. Even though I already have my Doctorate's in Psychology, I still can’t get enough of the mechanics of how we operate as a whole, as no one person, no one illness, is the same. And I find that amazing. I am thinking of going back to school to get my PhD in NeuroPsychology, as this is only a few more years and will educate me further. This will allow me to study brain scans in a Psychologist way. Fucking neat right? Naw? Eh,,,,I’m odd. *grins*

People often think that because I am an INTJ (Introvert Intuition Thinking Judging) personality, that I lack feelings and emotions, when its completely the opposite. I am an empath and my crazy mind throws that into my own mess of more shit for me to over-analyze as well, so I tend to show my emotions in silent, or with those closest to me I trust. Around the “right people”, I am quite driven, nurturing, loving, protective, loyal, outgoing, etc. I realize I may come off as arrogant, and even seem to have narcissistic behaviors, due to being so shy and my illnesses, and severe CPTSD. I am usually pretty reserved at first, and mostly observe others and listen. Once I know how they ‘tick’, I then will open up pieces of myself I feel may be appropriate/acceptable. I try to give others inspiration and drive. If I feel a part of me will do them no good, I keep that piece of myself quiet. Sometimes its unavoidable and my moods/actions are uncontrollable, and I try to be as communicative about my situation as I can, but most of the time I am at war in my own head and can’t even communicate to my own damn self, so its even harder to push that communication to others during those times....then BOOM.....domino effect. They feel worse as well as me. So overall, I try to only talk if whatever I have to say will be of aid, not to just “fill the silence”. My head is so loud as it is, so it does make it harder to push through my own internal noise as well. 

As humans, we are our own worst critics it seems. This can be both beneficial and chaotic...and in some cases, (such as mine), completely disabling. To use this to our benefit, we must use it as lessons vs criticism. We need to grow and learn from our own thoughts and actions, as well as others, and NOT be criticizing it. Its hard to do, but the more we feed each other supportive inspiration, the brighter each of our futures will be. See what others have passion in, and fuel the fuck outta it. When you fuel others, you will fuel yourself; trust me. We are all empaths to an extent. We feed off each other. Most of the time this is referred to as “energy” and “vibes”....but its true. Whatever you put out into the universe will always return back to you... so I always quote “Spread those good vibes, y’all!” 

Now, if you’ve made it this far in my post, first let me just say THANK YOU. This means a lot to me. I felt (and still struggle with this to this day) of feeling invisible and secretly hated... so when anyone shows any interest in me, I light up. 

So onward of the whole “about me” I suppose, as well as my intro to this blog.

I needed an outlet to pour my mind into, as well as help others connect to me in a deeper way since I struggle with communication. My mind will literally overflow with thoughts that need to be thrown up somewhere, so heres one place they’ll go. I also plan to vblog on YouTube. I am a streamer on Twitch as well. I am on Facebook, Instagram, Discord, and will spread into other social medias as I see fit. 

I started streaming on Twitch October 27th, 2019. It changed my life in many ways. I started it to build a safe place community/family, and it has been amazing. I cannot be more thankful for our community family. I mostly do the “Just Chatting” feature on there, but stream game play from time to time, and multi-stream with others as well. I mostly focus on helping others with therapy chats for free & run on a ‘donation/subscription” basis. 

I absolutely love music. I’m obsessed with Rick & Morty. I used to be obsessed over Pusheen, and as I still have a place for that adorable feline in my heart, the obsession kinda faded. 

I love to game and favor adventure slash games and FPS mostly. 

I enjoy drawing anime, even though I have no interest in watching it. Go figure.

I write poetry from time to time. I also make jewelry, paint, etc. I love to design; whether it be decorating, technology based, fashion related, WTF ever....LOL I see it as an artistic way to plan I suppose?

I am a very misunderstood individual and hope for understanding for myself, as well as others. 

I will end this post there for now, and add on when the urge comes. I hope y’all stick around and enjoy my company. 

~peace & love~

xoxo angel (^_^)

#intro #about me #aboutme #info #intj #streamer #twitch #mental health #twitch streamer

[game-meak]

A Proper Postmortem

Maybe?!  Heck if I know how to actually format a good post but let’s try.  As game development went on for almost four years, this is probably gonna be long... and also give away basically the whole game oops!  Read on with caution.

Sometime around July 2014, a month after the initial release of my first game, my room was being remodeled and I was stuck with nothing for free time but a garbage laptop I could do anything on, an old flip phone, my sketchbook, and my 3DS.  So beyond playing an obscene amount of Animal Crossing and Tomodachi Life, I at some point went “hey, what if I made a second game starring the kids.”  So I started trying to plan it out!  And it went

absolutely nowhere that I intended it to go!!!

For instance, this is the very first page of sketches.  This squirrel was supposed to be really important.  It’s not.  I don’t even KNOW what’s up with that duck.

A thing I like to think about before I set off making any of the story, assets, or scripts for my games tend to be themes and motifs.  And I kept circling back to a very important, very personal “theme.”  Without using the internet at large as my therapy couch, I was emotionally abused and taken advantage of multiple times in my life and it greatly impacts how I interact with people to this very day, as you’d expect events of such a degree would.  Particularly, I kept thinking that the RPG Maker fan crowd tends to skew young and be in the teenage range and at ages 14-16, I could’ve used something to help.

Of course, my entire thought process isn’t necessarily one of charity and selflessness.  It was also a way of me expressing what I’d dealt with in ways I’ve only ever communicated with my friends who were also victims of the same circumstances, the closest I would let myself come to personal stories and retellings with a cover of plastic children and wild adventures.  It was also in some ways a way of me verifying to myself that something ongoing was, in fact, bananas and should not have been happening, but that might be another story for another time.

As you can probably guess, Haze and Seal came into the picture since I needed to make two characters who would have this struggle.  A lot of decisions came about because of my personal experience.  They’re 15/16 because I was at the time of the incidents that primarily inspired me to make this game.  They’re both nonbinary because I am.  They love anime because I did (and do...?!)  One of their friends is even directly modeled off how one of my friends looked in high school.  To that degree, I guess someone, somewhere can call them self inserts.  But they’re also not, since I didn’t want to just do a personal retelling with fictional characters.  I’d just write a memoir or something at that point.

Haze’s design came first, and then Seal’s was sort of made as a foil to them.  Haze’s “colors” are pink, black, grey, and red.  Seal’s are teal and light purple... and also black.  Haze had a rabbit motif (which got toned down as I went on), Seal had an owl motif (which is now just a single mention in their list of likes...), etc.

Though in the beginning, the story was entirely different.  Initially, everything took place in the neon-ish areas with black sky and reflective, celestial water (that I, very eloquently, call “spacewater”).  The idea was that Haze and Seal were beings from another dimension and that their “fighting” was causing a rip in the universe that the kids stumbled into and therefore got wrapped up in this mess.  I had an entire script written and started making assets and when I went to sum up the game’s plot in a neat paragraph, I realized... I hated it!!!

So I chucked all I had done by that point writing-wise and started again.

In fact, I rewrote a lot.  After the first it was mostly small tweaks and adjustments, but the biggest ones (and the ones that still present a challenge to me!) usually involved trying to make Seal feel like a believable character.  I had shown an early draft to someone who said that Seal felt too much like trying to get back at someone, so I scrapped a ton of their lines and tried again.  I still worry whether or not they come across too Strawman-y, but I’ve done the best I can and whatever criticism people have can apply to my next writing attempts.  It’s very hard to separate yourself from subject matter you feel really personally attached to.  I don’t want to write them in a way that you immediately hate them, or hate me for writing such a blatant “villain” character, but in a way that you can formulate your own thoughts.  That said, though, I am violently allergic to people who call Seal a “tsundere,” even in jest.  So I guess I want people to have their own thoughts as long as it’s not that specific one...! (;;;;)

You may be thinking “heck, this is a lot of paragraphs in and you haven’t even brought up gameplay thoughts” and yes... that’s very true.  Shamefully, for a game where I thought “I should definitely, absolutely focus more on making it a Fun Game than a walking visual novel” I might’ve actually dropped the ball in that area.  I’d like to think I was more adventurous than I had been with my first game.  Some parts do kind of fall into the “walk to the next cutscene, find a key to unlock the next cutscene” pit, but I did put effort into figuring out what I could do with RMXP.  My obligatory “please don’t use this engine here, people thinking of using RPG Maker” statements here.  In the final product, though they’re very simple, I’m most proud of the chalkboard puzzle and the paint sorting puzzle.

Even if, y’know... I somehow neglected to include the letter “k”

Speaking of, I’m not sure if this is a general RPG Maker thing, a “man I hate RMXP” thing, or a “meaka cannot gamemake” thing, but I had several event/puzzles just up and quit on me a few times.  Like they would work fine for months and months, but one day I’d go to them and just nope, suddenly they’re not working, sorry.  Copy+pasting the event to a new map wouldn’t work, so I’d have to manually redo the event.  One of them was the chalkboard puzzle.  The other was the sliding puzzle when Tony is by herself.  Which I’m also aware slows the game down a ton, but I have legitimately no idea how to fix that... I tried and I could never get to to not lag like crazy.

Like I said, I started in July 2014.  I’d shipped the game off to my beta testers in March 2018.  A vast majority of that time was spent creating the visual assets since everything you see in the game is custom.  All the sprites, all the tilesets, every little pixel of it.  All me!  Needless to say... it was very exhausting and very time consuming. I grossly underestimated how much time I thought it’d take.  I never accounted for the very real possibility of burnout, which is incredibly silly considering I was making something entirely by myself that was also an occasionally difficult subject matter...!  There were quite a few weeks where I touched nothing because I couldn’t bring myself to and even a few times where I just considered deleting everything and cancelling the project.  I knew I’d be mad at myself if I quit, especially as I got later into production, so I just tried my best to make sure I didn’t turn it into a huge chore.  Obviously, there were parts that were more tedious than others, but this game really is a very large labor of love that I put a lot of my heart into.

Part of that time is also a little bit of indecision.  Did you know I went through 3 possible title screens?  I sure did!  I’ve also publicly posted about redoing both Haze and Seal’s bust sprites before.  I almost redid all of the kids’, too, but I didn’t wanna get caught in the loop of remaking everything, so I opted to just leave them as they are.  Most of them don’t bug me as much.  M...most of them!

I’m hopping back on the Story train since obviously that was my main focus, but the decision to have Seal sort of “reveal” their true nature (or at least have a jealousy-related anger burst) to Octavio as an animated cutscene was one I’d decided pretty early.  Which is also why, unsurprisingly, I was debating getting voice actors for a hot minute.  But I wouldn’t have used it anywhere else in the game, so I opted not to.  I also wanted to keep the file size low, but that wound up not happening so much, h-haha...   For someone who uses the only engine without native support for videos, I sure do like making animated cutscenes, huh.

Anyway.  This scene originally bridged Octavio’s section of the game to Pablo’s, which would’ve been (for some reason) in an abandoned hospital.  But that didn’t pan out because it didn’t fit what I wanted the game to be and also by switching the order of the two, it builds up more tension(?) on the kind of character you expect Seal to be.  I hope their very first “fuck off, maybe” took someone out there by surprise!

This also was the point when I decided I wanted to commission an original soundtrack, since nothing quite got across what I wanted at the time.  Which is when I put out my silly ad post and somehow managed to get the amazing ProjectTrinity to compose for me...!  I’m still amazed by the sheer quality of music he made for my little RPGMaker game.

Having the teen characters curse was also something I waffled on for a bit.  Clearly, I dwell on the important things as a writer.  I wanted it to contrast the cutesy, kidlike way the siblings talk and also the sort of squeaky-clean image the witches (particularly Seal) present to the kids by contrasting how they talk to each other, most importantly how Seal talks to Haze and their other friends.  I did have the same issue with the Mother in my first game, but I opted to not have her curse at all either since she’s childish in her own way, too.  But that’s not for THIS game’s postmortem, get otta here!!!

I also very much was set on a “battle” with words being the final event of the game.  Though I had a hard time imagining what that would be initially, but eventually arrived at a sort of fake battle system that was introduced in the mine.  The setting for this battle changed with time (everywhere from the park to the academy and in between) was considered...!  The dirty secret is that while I did like the decision to make it take place in the voids between worlds, I also sort of did not want to draw the staircase in the witch academy.  Originally, the kids would’ve also helped Haze “reach” Seal (who was putting actual obstacles in the way), but I guess in my own way, I wanted to give Haze the ability to confront Seal on their own, one-on-one.  Or something like that...!  I also didn’t want to add too much needless backtracking.

I’m... unsure what other point I really want to make, so I guess I’ll end this here unless anyone has anything in particular that interests them they’d want me to answer!

All in all, this game means a lot to me and took a chunk of my life to make and I really hope it’s able to reach at least one person who might need it, even if it’s only a little. 

To all of you who gave it a try, thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart.

A shameless link to the game:  [itch.io] & [RMN]

#living playground #the witch's puppets #rpg maker #postmortem

[destroyyourbinder]

rethinking butch while doing my laundry in buckets at 8 PM

You know, I never thought there would be anything on this earth that could make me re-think my commitment to pants over skirts and dresses, a vow I had made to myself over and over again since my childhood days of being crammed into tights and lace, but doing my laundry in a series of five gallon buckets in the bathtub of our dingy apartment was it.

I was thinking yesterday, while staring into our shared closet and remembering when I had a purple closet full of clothes that I had to tug at, clothes that I tried to ignore that they existed even when I was wearing them, that I probably haven't worn a skirt outside of a Halloween costume in almost fifteen years. When I moved out of my parents' house I ditched my last one, a vintage skirt that had always stayed on its hanger, part of a pair with a yellow blazer that I had loved but didn't fit anymore. I felt vindicated, but a bit lost, as if a high school presentation was going to leap out of the void at any time and make me regret my decision. I didn't bring any skirts with me here, to the city; it felt daring and somehow pathetic at the same time, a sign of how stunted my life had been that it seemed like a bold move at all. It was a tiny hop into the deep end of a lesbian kiddie pool. Skirts do lurk around the corner at any old thrift store, but somehow I felt like there was no going back; I had banished them, and they would not return.

My girlfriend and I share most of our clothes, as we're close in size-- she's a bit broader, I'm a bit taller-- and our clothing tastes are pretty similar. She has her favorites, and I have mine, and we don't tend to share pants or shoes due to the particulars of how we wear them out, but the rest are a big indeterminately owned mass of potential dress options. The thing is is that she's supposed to be a "man"; she still lives a life where she doesn't tell people she's detransitioned, generally, and most people take her to be outright male or a trans man. I'm not supposed to be a man; I don't pass except maybe from afar and behind, and I assume I mostly come across as tired and dumpy and gay. I don't really know if people notice that our shirts and shorts and socks swap between and across us. Maybe they're too confused by the other things going on with us to see that one. When we worked together doing early morning stocking we used to fuck with people, we'd switch our jackets and hats every so often and see who we could fool, which was way too many people at way too close a range for a pair of human beings supposed to be at the opposite poles of Gender. Nobody was particularly apologetic about it either when they mistook us, even though that kind of outright misgendering is supposed to be a major faux pas. They usually just laughed in a way that indicated that, well, of course. I laugh in the same way when people tell me that Trans Men are Men, that everyone treats them just like any other male person, that nobody knows they aren't male, that they never experienced sexism and never will, that the gap between them and A Woman is incomprehensibly large. A waiter's never handed me the check at the diner when I was out with a dude, but they do it all the time when I'm with my girlfriend, and then she has to use the men's room after dinner.

I've somehow gotten more "masculine" since I stopped seeing myself as transgender, which I think might surprise people who know nothing about the process of desisting or reidentifying or detransition, but doesn't surprise women who have been through this. I feel a lot less neurotic about wearing men's clothes, about buzzing my hair off, about being hairy elsewhere and not hiding it, about stepping out into the world as an unacceptable female person, uncontained and unbridled, edging in on men's turf. The stakes aren't quite as high, now, honestly, even though they're higher than they have been before. I don't have my family to fall back on if I lose my job due to being an unrepentant dyke, but now that I'm not in her house, I don't worry about my mother discovering my secrets, including that I'm not the daughter she wanted me to be. I'm scared to go out after 7 PM if I can't sufficiently cover up the fact that I'm female, but my entire sense of self worth isn't riding on whether or not someone perceives my ham-handed attempts at not-being-female correctly. I worry about my rent, but I don't worry about where exactly it is men pull up their socks to on their legs, and I don't worry about whether I'm not really worthy of living if I can't do it right, because I don't worry about if I'm not really a man or just a fuck-up of a woman, and I don't worry about whether or not a fuck-up of a woman is the worst thing I could possibly be. Well, I worry about it sometimes, still, because it matters to other people, even if I don't think it matters to me. But I've stopped trying to compensate for my fuck-ups by wearing the right earrings with my undercut, or hiding my breasts under a binder, hidden under a blouse. I can leave the house without having twenty thousand insecurities about the masculinity or femininity of my leg hair growth pattern or the color-contrast of my lips. So I leave the house in shit my nine year old self would probably appreciate: a flannel, a shirt with a cat on it, yellow pants with functioning pockets. I try to take stupid thoughts about whether the pocket style of said pants makes my butt look girly the same way I took my skirts, which is to chuck them out in honor of living a life without gender neuroses.

They always say that gender is culturally contextual, limited to time and place, and while we all pay lip service to that in some way or another when we get mad that our favorite historical figure got parsed as one thing or another, I think we all like to think we would be butch lesbians or trans men or whatever it is we are in another life, that we probably wouldn't have ended up like our great-grandmothers but something like female husbands, passing soldiers and sailors, instead. I spent a lot of time as a kid wondering why the hell girls did this or that, wasn't it harder, it's so stupid; I felt so betrayed when I hit middle school, and everyone was tripping over their purses, pursed lips in candy-sparkle lipgloss, on the way to idolize boys. I wanted to be among boys, I wanted to be a boy, somehow at the same time I thought girls were stupid for admiring them in the other way. I think a lot of us carry this into adulthood; we figure femininity's a bunch of dumb crap we can't be bothered to do, and besides we're unsuited for it, constitutionally incapable of hoisting a tube of fabric above our pooch. We escaped from it because we kept our heads (non) straight or maybe because it wicked off us like pink droplets on a Teflon pan, which we definitely use to make burgers with and not cute hors d’oeuvres. We know what a dress means and how it works, and we know how it makes us feel, and we know we would never wear it, not on a desert island nor to our sister's wedding.

After washing my clothes in a bucket, I don't think you should do disservice to your grandmothers like that. I had to sit on one of my other buckets-- there are three in this clothes washing system-- and think for a bit about what the hell I was doing with all this gender and anti-gender shit, what the fuck I was doing with my life at all. Because the thought I had, which surprised me, was that pants are fucking bullshit. They're fucking bullshit when you wash your clothes by hand, which is what generations of women did before me. My value system got turned upside down; I spent my whole life thinking skirts and dresses were frilly nonsense, floofery intended to hold women back from participating in the world, an "easy access" hole to parts I didn't want to exist. And it's not like that isn't true: women's dresses and skirts have been artificially cumbersome throughout history, full of engineered contraptions to enhance women's decorative-sexual living-pornography value, whether literally stuffed with metal cages and yards of fluff or whether tightly drafted to form a second skin. When you can't fucking sit down or lift your legs or bend over it's a problem, when your teeth chatter in the winter on your way to school it's a problem, when you can't be a lawyer or a senator without wearing the appropriate kind of Leg Tube it's a problem. It was a problem when my mom put me in a velvet thing that rested just above my knees, and I wasn't allowed to play or even spread my legs while I was in it, lest I render myself an obscene five year old girl. But the Leg Tube isn't the problem, it's all the other shit, and I had never taken that seriously, never really dug into it, until I had to confront the inconvenience of manually sloshing around my pants for ten minutes.

I had confused symbolism for reality. I thought I was done with that, over that, now that I was out of the trans shit. I was living in some patriarchal dollhouse, and I had thought I busted out, but now I'm in another one, better maybe, but just as artificial, because the grass being greener over here all hinged on having a washing machine. When do I get to leave? I am suddenly afraid I'll spend my life in an infinite nested universe of misogynist fuckery, having existential crises about the fridge or maybe the carpet next.

I guess my girlfriend and I got into what you might call "urban homesteading" by accident. We didn't set out to do this out of convictions or philosophy, it was mostly because we were cheap, and also we're lazy in a certain kind of baffling ADHD way where it's easier to make a curtain with your two damn hands than navigate thirty, fifty pages of advertising-merchandising to find one that will ship to your house for not-sixteen-dollars . Car insurance in this town is absurd, so we just don't have a vehicle. We also don't turn on the heat in the winter, or the air conditioning in the summer. We bake bread, make yogurt, make shampoo, wash out and reuse plastic zipper bags, don't flush the toilet for stretches of time. Clothes get patches upon patches, breadcrumbs go in a jar, there are lots of systems for a lot of things that nobody really thinks about anymore. My dad told me his family used to sleep on the porch of their farmhouse in the summer; I can't do that here, but it comes to mind anyway. He was from that kind of people where you did it yourself or you didn't do it at all, German farm folk born in nineteen-oh-something; my mom was from people that didn't do it at all, her father too drunk to give a shit, her mother feeding her seven kids out of cans. There's a weird mix of shame and pride when you end up doing your laundry in buckets, dual gene lines, dual angel-devils sitting on my shoulders: someone clapping me on the back for my resourcefulness, a job well done, and someone asking me why the hell I stooped to this when there's a washer in the basement, didn't I work hard so you didn't have to live this way.

We saw it on YouTube and thought we could save some money on electricity or water because our landlord isn't going to replace our 30-plus years old washing machine anytime soon. I thought maybe doing it in the buckets would help my busted brain a little, 'cause I could do it every couple days, fifteen minutes at a time, instead of in big piles once a week. I like shit I can touch or otherwise it doesn't feel real, I can't keep track of it, it feels like the sort of work women with tight lips and long nails do and they make their lips tighter when I can’t hack it. There could be a system, tangible, clothes I can see in places where they belong, hands on a plunger pushing soap and water and fabric up and down, you can tell if they got clean yet or not if you open the lid. I don't like dumping them in a machine, an unknown hole of productivity, input-output, assembly line nonsense. I'm not productive anyway, so what do I care?

When you're doing your laundry by hand like this something occurs to you, which is that this is a lot of work, and maybe you don't want to be doing this all the time, so you should be careful with how dirty your clothes get. I realized real quick I wasn't going to be doing this every day, and that it would be wasteful, worse than the water usage of some old-ass washer to try. You start realizing how dumb it is to wear your clothes once and only once before you wash them, as you plunge up and down, up and down. It occurs to you that ten minutes is a pretty long amount of time, even though you're in your late twenties and winter just showed up again and you keep wondering where the hell the time goes anymore. You start resenting how stupid and arbitrary it is that you're supposed to be squeaky clean in public, that stains and wear are unacceptable, that they mean anything at all about anybody except that they live a life and entropy exists. You think that if you have to put this much arm power into washing your clothes, then how much power has to go into a damn washer, and you start thinking about the arms that shovel coal out of the ground, into rail-cars, into boilers. You start getting real mad about how much shit the world puts people through just so clothes can get clean and floors can get clean and skin can get clean and nothing will look like it's ever been touched except by a very conscientious housewife. Your brain starts contriving things while your arms are going, like some wild-haired inventor, like maybe if you had an underlayer of clothing all the time you could just wash that and the outer layer would be allowed to get dirty for a while. Brilliant! And then you feel stupid because well, that's what we always did until you could dump your shit into an electric machine, and then they raised the standards to keep women busy doing something they didn't need to do. It occurs to you that pants are dumb because they're heavy and sopping wet, one big lump of fabric, and you can't wear an underlayer unless it's really cold outside. It occurs to you that pants are not worth it unless you are doing certain kinds of manual labor all the time or you need to protect your legs. You understand why the women in YouTube videos about washing your clothes in buckets are really mad at their husbands and sons, and some generational rage takes hold of your arms as you agitate the clothes in the bucket. Why do men get to be dirty in their stupid pants. Why do women have to clean them. You never want to hear anybody talk about fashion ever again. You never want to hear anybody talk about the gender of clothes again unless they've wrung out denim in anger and they're willing to wring a man's neck the same. Now you get to drain the bucket. Now you get to refill the bucket with clean water and agitate again. Now you get to drain the bucket and press the water out of your clothes with the full bucket. Now you get to hang up your clothes over your tub.

When I stopped seeing myself as transgender I told myself I would consider very carefully the value of anything I did, and I would let practicality and ethics dictate my life rather than sucking up to gender, to men, to the women pandering to them and afraid I wasn't going to. It's taken me some wild places, for real, and I didn't think it would take me to a place where I was questioning wearing pants. But given this, I find myself all the same cringing at wearing a skirt or something else other than those damn pants, other than the thing that men wear and women fought for, willing to violate my newfound guiding forces... and for what? Butch cred? Womanly pride? Can't I just shove it all in the washing machine and stop thinking about this? Do I need to live in the woods to tie something around my waist and get on with my life? If I've learned anything there's really nothing neutral when it comes to gender shit, and no matter how far you get in processing the patriarchy there's always something else at the bottom of a bucket, a broom, a sink strainer. How many years worth of women have had these thoughts while scrubbing something, however they cut their fucking hair? I try to focus more on that these days, rather than what I call myself or what pronoun I use. My grandmother, my mother, all those girls in my class who I thought were big idiots, the women out there bigger and badder and butcher than me, the trans men I envied for living in my dream world, all these female people I defined myself against all these years, we all end up here, staring into a drain, hoping the man won't crush us. When does it end? I want it to end. I'm done spinning my head in circles about the cut of my jeans, whether I wear jeans at all, and I hope you are too.

#writings

[verdigrisprowl]

Feb 11 Dancitron Movie Night - Venom

Due to the fact that rabb.it has fucked up its interface, it’s now impossible to copy/paste the chat more than a few lines at a time, AND it requires messing with the code to even copy/paste the names. Because I had to go the fuck to bed, @slenderwave compiled the log instead of me tonight. Thank u slendy.

Also we probably ain’t gonna have any more movie nights until we find a site without a fucked up interface.

Prowl liked the movie more than he indicated; while actually at the movie, though, he was mainly busy being shaken by the uncomfortable parallels between being Venomed and being Bombshelled/Devastatored. He probably said more to Soundwave tonight about what being under Bombshell was like than he has sum total to anyone else so far.

Specs– ((rabbit is such a shit)) Soundwave– *Soundwave–’s so on time this week it hurts. Everything’s set up, everything’s laid out, and he not only has himself parked at the edge of his couch seat, but he’s already nibbling a little silver ingot - one of several snacks on a small tray on his lap.* ((oh GOD the color)) Prowl– ((… fuck. FUCK.)) Specs– ((I had to manually type in the goddamn URL because trying to paste it in is apparently fucking illegal)) Prowl– ((you can’t copy/paste names anymore.)) SCProwl– ((ah fuck Soundwave– ((oh FUCK)) Prowl– ((it only copies the text, not the names. this is going to make logs impossible)) SCProwl– ((oh for fucks’ sake Specs– ((rabbit fucks up everything the movie)) Soundwave– ((i’ll take the logs tonight and look into how to make this work later in the week. don’t worry about it)) SCProwl– ((it looks like a text screen on a phone and i hate it Specs– ((I KNOW RIGHT)) ((oh and it doesn’t autoscroll at least for me so)) Soundwave– *Anyway, bad site design choices nobody asked for and possible future transfers to other sites if any of them are sufficient aside, here we are, and there he is, as ready as ready can be.* Swerve– //that was ridiculous and way more efort than needed rabbit Soundwave– ((deffo looking for another site before next monday. gotta see if anyone else got their shit together or if this is as good as it gets)) SCProwl– *i suppose that means she’s here as well despite rabb.it’s attempts to make that as annoying as possible* Swerve– //smokey mentioned cytube last week as an alternative? but i don’t know if they checked it out to see how it works yet Soundwave– ((noted)) *Soundwave– absently waves the little bar of silver in Prowl–’s direction as a greeting… then remembers WHICH Prowl– that is and pings her a proper Hello instead.* SCProwl– *nods and pings back before finding a place to sit* Twincast– ((*aggressively changes icon* Specs– *enter dragon! it is Palentine’s day, so she’s brought heart-shaped snacks with the Cybertronian word for “friend” carved, iced, and just generally placed on the centers. Other than the fun shape, it’s the same selection as usual. No magnets today.* Hello, Soundwave–! Windchill– (( Jesus H Crust you guys I leave for a few months and Rabbit goes to poop. More than usual. )) Twincast– ((ikr. I’m just glad the text wrap is apparently only broken on my desktop Swerve– //from what i’ve seen text wrap is more broken on firefox than chrome but seems to vary in general Soundwave– [[Greetings, dragon. Feeling filled with friendship today?]] Twincast– ((ah, yeah. I use FF exclusively, so : ’) RIP my soul *quietly enters room as if he doesn’t randomly disappear for months on end* Specs– Isn’t that human friendship holiday coming up? I don’t know if you theme for that one like you do for the human scaring holiday, but just in case, I thought I’d make them thematic. Soundwave– *Soundwave– glances at Twincast–, back to the screen, and then RIGHT back to Twincast–. Well that’s a sight for sore optics right there, isn’t it.* [[Greetings. Rumble is not in attendance tonight, if you have brought your… friends.]] Blaster– ((WHAT THE FRESH FUCK RABBIT!? Twincast– Nah, just me tonight. Though, I’m sure Rewind would be disappointed to hear that, if he was Soundwave– [[Frenzy requested he theme to this human holiday, yes. Said this one was perfect for it.]] ((rabbit is a pile of butts, i’ll be looking for alternatives as soon as i can after tonight)) Blaster– ((It went…badly, trying to get here Twincast– ((same. clicking the link kept redirecting me so I ??? had to pull some copy+paste black magic Windchill– (( It used to be a good livestream alternative, I don’t understand why they’d make it so hard to actually get into a room. ‘Cept it didn’t even ask for a name when I typed the url in, it just bypassed it so as best as I can tell the whole vetting process is entirely ineffective. )) Swerve– //same Blaster– ((ditto, kept redirecting me SCProwl– Which human holiday are we not observing this time? Specs– ((I had to type it in manually)) Windchill– (( Yup. )) Blaster– ((yeah Swerve– //i like how their 'this is the new rabbit’ window too was all like 'people asked for this!!’ no. no we didnt Specs– I’m glad I themed, then! I hope the snacks meet with Frenzy’s approval. Twincast– ((I think we’re perma invited to this group now, though? At least that’s how it worked for the subgroup I made the other day Blaster– ((literally did not ask for this, I liked the old one damnit Swerve– //seems so based on how i’m still in smokey’s from sat night Tarantulas (( is here ooc for the Good Goo Content and hopes rabbit doesn’t ruin the fun Soundwave– [[Valentines’ Day, as far as he knows. It is when humans consume large amounts of chocolate and appreciate their closest friends and companions. He is told the beings in this film adore chocolate as well and have very close relationships.]] Swoop– ((AHA!)) Twincast– ((WELCOME Windchill– (( YOU MADE IT )) Swoop– ((Dude. Fuck rabbit forever. I shouldn’t have to type the damn URL by hand.)) SCProwl– Chocolate is a type of food, right? Swoop– ((Thanks for coming to the rescue man 😮 )) Windchill– (( Ur welcome. )) Blaster– -don’t mind Blaster– making his way in, for once NOT looking half asleep/dead on his feet- Swoop– ((Wow. This update seriously sucks. It doesn’t scroll down when I send something to the chat. I’m manually scrolling. No way that’s going to get old. Bleh!)) Windchill– (( Gonna go grab a drink that fiasco has got me SWEATING brb. Or maybe it’s this houserobe but you know what. I’m gonna blame rabbit anyway. )) Soundwave– ((stop taking the remote, it may bug out and i can’t get it back)) ((not you, just a general thing)) Windchill– (( I was about to ask I didn’t even notice. )) Prowl– ((I fucked around with a rabbit style and got a way to copy/paste everything again)) SCProwl– ((it gave it to me automatically when i first jumped in, think it’s another issue with this new look Windchill– (( Could be, maybe they’ll get rid of the issue because I can’t imagine that it’s intentional. )) ((Or, don’t want to imagine. )) Specs– ((bots suck enough without having them able to control the remote)) Prowl– ((so we’re back in business, except now I’m fucking pissed off)) Soundwave– [[Yes, chocolate is a human fuel. It is easily melted and not of much value to their internal systems, but they seem to like it.]] Specs– It probably tastes good to them. SCProwl– Not unlike some of the things Cybertronians consume. Soundwave– ((i mistimed by two minutes but whatever - GRAB YOUR SNACKS AND USE YOUR BATHROOMS here are your warnings we start at 8)) ((VENOM // Violence, blood, and death, exposed broken bone, scientific/medical abuse, animal death, body horror, the general grossness of the unbonded symbiotes, seriously bad flashing lights (after eddie fucks with the keypad), moderately bad flashing lights (during a fight scene), I don’t know what you’d call eating out of the garbage but definitely that, vomit, misogynist language, people being in other people’s minds.)) Twincast– *finally slides into seated position–because guess who just realised they were still standing?–and waves at the other Blaster–!* Swoop– ((Dear god. Is everyone having to scroll to keep up with the chat or is it just me?)) Twincast– ((scroll is working… ok for me? my posts get slightly swallowed into the void tho Windchill– (( Mine is automatic, it seems to be affecting everyone differently. )) Swerve– //i’ve noticed that i only hae to anually scroll if i change tabs; as long as i stay in rabbit it auto scrolls Swoop– ((It doesn’t move at all when someone says something new. I’d refresh the page but I might never make it back here.)) Windchill– (( Sorry to hear it’s being an Extra Butt though. )) Blaster– -blinks at the other, waving slightly in confusion- Hi? Prowl– ((mine’s autoscrolling)) Windchill– *He’s here, uglier than ever and wearing one (1) more accessory than usual.*

Swerve– //are you using FF? from what i’ve seen people using firefox have more issues than people using chrome Soundwave– ((everyone. and because i really don’t want to spend all night on a good movie complaining about stuff none of us can change: - yes i will be looking for alternatives but i can’t promise they exist - yes the chat probably will not autoscroll for most of us - this update is a trashfire - i don’t know how to fix it and i’m sorry, i only found out about it an hour ago - let’s just do what we can with what there is tonight all right)) Swoop– ((chrome)) Specs– (mine isn’t autoscrolling even on the tab- and I’m using chrome)) Blaster– ((mine throws my replies into the void Specs– ((yessir slendymun)) Blaster– ((kaaay Swerve– //rip Twincast– @boom Sup? *he is reasonably sure you’re one of Nocturne’s… things. gotta say hi!* Windchill– (( Thank for subs. )) Swoop– *scampers in, oblivious to any theme or upcoming holiday* Windchill– *Ignorance is bliss.* Blaster– Um…. Swoop– HI : > Soundwave– ((no prob, i use them myself so i get it)) Windchill– *Will stop blocking the door with his butt maybe.* Blaster– Do….do I know you? Soundwave– *Soundwave– kicks back. It’s time. He’s been looking forward to this ever since it first appeared on his human datanet feed.* Swoop– *waves at said butt* Windchill– *His butt would reciprocate but that would be weird, so he waves with his hand instead.* Twincast– Maybe not, but–think you know'a friend of mine. Looks a lil bit like our host *kind of. Slendy is a unique beast* Windchill– Swoop–. Swoop– hi Blaster– …………….. Windchill– Hi, you Swoop–. Soundwave– *Glances to Twincast–. Now who’s he talking about over there?* Swoop– HI! Keheheh. You a bad door. No moving. Windchill– You know. I could make all sorts of inappropriate jokes about openings with that…but I won’t. Blaster– I’m…yeah, we met Swoop– Me Swoop– like jokes : > Windchill– *He’s gonna find a spot on the floor to sit instead.* Who knows, maybe you’ll hear some other jokes. Swoop– *scampers in and begins his Bird hunt* Blaster– …………….. Windchill– Ah, yes, the poison movie. Blaster– Hey, uh, Soundwave–? Twincast– Hope he didn’t traumatise you too much – Twincast–. Blaster– formerly Windchill– About poison. Soundwave– *There is no Bird tonight. There is enough trouble keeping up as is. Soundwave– wants to enjoy this his own lone self.* [[Yes, Blaster–?]] Windchill– Wait, no. *Has to cup his chin and recheck the definition of poison versus venom.* Eh. Swoop– *is CRUSHED by the lack of Bird and SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHHHS* Blaster– That…thing. Did it just posses the woman? Windchill– *Snickers.* Blaster– And no, he didn’t Soundwave– [[An investigative journalist breaking into scandals and coverups? He approves of such nosiness.]] Smokescreen– ((OH THERE WE GO Blaster– Just…um…wait Soundwave– [[And yes. It does seem it did.]] Blaster– You used to be named Blaster–? Smokescreen– /Smokescreen–’s running in and is hopping onto the couch./ Soundwave–! Soundwave–, how are you? Twincast– Yeah, changed it post-war 'n got this fancy, blue paint scheme to boot. Blaster– Ah. Thanks. Swoop– ((I was getting bacon what’d I miss)) Soundwave– *Soundwave– startles and automatically flips Smokescreen– overhead and down onto the floor. DON’T DO THAT TO HIM.* [[…He apologizes.]] Swoop– *climbs Windchill– to perch* This a GOOD movie? Smokescreen– /OW- Smokescreen–’s staying on the floor for a few minutes, but gives a thumbs up. That was pretty cool, actually!/ Soundwave– ((eddie brock is an investigative journalist, he’s picking up a big report with the guy at the head of the Life Foundation and doesn’t really want it cause fluff piece but has to do it)) Windchill– Dunno, Swoop–. We’re gonna find out. Swoop– ((thx)) Someone DIE? Soundwave– [[He is fine. A little surprised. Obviously.]] *Pause. Lean forward.* [[…Are you injured?]] Blaster– ….so, okay then… Windchill– I guess there was a rocket crash with dead people and a mention of some kind of murder, so yes. Someone died. Smokescreen– Haha, sorry, Soundwave–. Didn’t mean to surprise you! … I’m fine, probably. Just lemme lie down for a little more. Swoop– Crash and die means proooooobably good movie : > Smokescreen– … Can you show me how to do that, Soundwave–? Blaster– …. Windchill– It’s a great start. Prowl– ((as the child of a journalist I am personally offended by how shitty and immoral an investigative reporter he is)) Soundwave– [[All right.]] *He pauses again, then offers a small orange crystal.* [[…Snack? While you’re down there.]] Blaster– Okay, on the grounds that I used to be a reporter, don’t do that. Windchill– Earth is already in space. Everything is in space. Swoop– Them kissy facing. That gross. Windchill– You Swoop– gross. Soundwave– [[And he can show you how, yes. Not tonight.]] Prowl– ((to be fair: it is ENTIRELY valid for an Eddie Brock to be written as a shitty immoral investigative reporter.)) Swoop– Me Swoop– not in space. Me Swoop– on shoulder. YOU gross Windchill– I am gross, thank you for noticing. Soundwave– *Soundwave– would do that. … Not to Prowl–. He wouldn’t break Prowl–’s trust. But he’d totally do it to another bot.* Prowl– ((but the movie acts like we’re like… supposed to side with him for it.)) Blaster– ((Blaster– is just a lil offended. Not much, but just miffed at him Swoop– *points at Windchill–* Ew Windchill– *Sticks his gross glossa out at Swoop–. Likewise.* Smokescreen– Thanks, Soundwave–, that’d be a cool thing to know! And- and yeah. /Smokescreen–’s taking the crystal and is plopping it directly into his mouth./ Soundwave– ((i got the impression we weren’t supposed to like that he did it? everything points out he was a jackass)) Windchill– (( Yes, it bites him in the butt later. )) (( But I’ve seen this a few times so I’ll be quiet. )) Swoop– *blows raspberries* Soundwave– [[Hmph. No surprises regarding Drake’s reaction.]] Windchill– What a delightful sound. Right in my ear. I love it. Blaster– -sighs- Swoop– Kehehh! *points* No eaaar! Ear a human thing. ((eddie looks so shocked)) Prowl– ((so have i; i still feel like we’re supposed to feel bad for him. he doesn’t, like, change.)) Soundwave– *…Takes notes. DEFINITELY don’t do this to Prowl–.* Smokescreen– … Why is she giving him her ring? Windchill– I have audio receptors and they serve the same function as ears. Guess which one is easier to say? Blaster– ….. SCProwl– To end their courtship is my guess. Swoop– EeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeearrrrrUH Blaster– Oh. That really DID come back to bite him Prowl– ((see up here he’s getting consequences. that’s good, that’s valid. but it’s only at the start)) Twincast– Huh Smokescreen– Huh. So is that a ring he lent her or something? Windchill– Everything out of your mouth is an earful. You Swoop– noisy. Swoop– *licks Windchill–’s audio* *extra slobber just for you* Windchill– *SHUDDERS, complete with an ugly face.* Specs– She grabbed a… fish? With her bare hands? SCProwl– Courtship gifts are gifts. Meant to be kept by the receiver. Returning it is a clear gesture of rejection. Swoop– *chirps* Soundwave– [[The ooze creature is so…]] *Hand motion. What’s a word.* [[Oozy.]] Windchill– *Isn’t even going to try to wipe his ear off. Gross.* SCProwl– *not sure the ring was a courtship gift was but it seems like the most likely guess* Swoop– Booger Windchill– My thoughts exactly. A booger transplant. Swoop– Ewwwwwww *grins* Windchill– That’s quite an assumption but okay. Soundwave– [[…They have used precisely one animal. That is insufficient data.]] Smokescreen– He’s… Not a very good scientist, is he? Swoop– Me Swoop– an animal : > Blaster– -shudders- Soundwave– [[Not at all.]] Specs– Clearly not. How many people did he apparently kill? SCProwl– Impatient for the results he wants. Windchill– Are you Swoop– a wild animal? Blaster– That’s disturbing Soundwave– [[At least three.]] Swoop– *is so damn helpful tonight, it’s a shame Bird isn’t here to be helped* Me Swoop– VERY wild! Windchill– *Ear cleaning is so helpful.* I thought so. Swoop– *would lick Bird* Windchill– I’m empty, too. Swoop– Empty? Windchill– It’s a joke. I made it just for you. I thought you liked them. Swoop– ((Wow. He didn’t jump in and make it worse. I’m kind of surprised. I don’t know I’ve ever seen that in a movie before.)) Me do! :V Windchill– So, there’s a joke for you. First one. Swoop– Do it again Windchill– So soon? Swoop– Yah Windchill– These things take time… I’m not ready. Swoop– Slow keheh Windchill– Maybe so. Blaster– ….ow Windchill– Maybe…slow. Swoop– Slow *pokes* poke Twincast– *may be guilty of being that neighbor once or twice* Windchill– Excuse me sir that is my person that you are poking. Swoop– *bobbles his head in a nod* Soundwave– [[…Does he not know what he is there for?]] Smokescreen– Man, Eddie makes me look like I’m doing amazing in comparison Windchill– You making fun of me for being slow? Is that how it is? Blaster– He’s about to find out Swoop– *continued bobbling* Windchill– This man is very dramatic. Prowl– *arrives belatedly and reluctantly* Soundwave– [][][] I? [][][] Windchill– That’s the word I’m using because the others aren’t so polite. Soundwave– *Soundwave– glances at Prowl–’s late arrival. … Well, this isn’t the best scene to come in on, is it.* Prowl– *stops and stares at the screen* Windchill– Maybe you Swoop– slow. Swoop– No no no. Me Swoop– FAST!!! Blaster– -covers face- Windchill– Faster than I am? Prowl– *… tiredly closes optics. he chose a hell of a time to arrive.* Twincast– Mmm, no, that ain’t healthy Smokescreen– Is… Is that normal for humans Swoop– YAH! Me Swoop– waaaaaaaaaaaay faster. Fastest Best Windchill– Eh, you’re probably right. For now, anyway. Smokescreen– /Smokescreen–’s finally starting to get up from the floor to sit down on one of the arms of the couch away from Soundwave– Oh no Swoop– You Windchill– going to be faster later? Soundwave– *You know what, he’s just. He’s just going to make his greeting to Prowl– very subdued and start it with a mark of apology.* Windchill– When I can transform again? Yeah. Now I have to walk everywhere so I do it as slowly as possible out of spite. Swoop– Spite? Who you mad walking at? Windchill– Me probably. Swoop– *slow blinks his confusion out* Windchill– *Just smiles.* *Points* Cat. Blaster– ….huh Windchill– That’s not creepy at all! Blaster– That explains a few things Swoop– This movie so TALK. When Us do crash DEAD again? Blaster– -mostly about his own career, and the 'side-effects’ of it- Windchill– Uh, maybe later? Swoop– Fastforward Smokescreen– Hey! Cats have people they like Soundwave– [[That is a blatant lie. That cats do not like anyone.]] Smokescreen– Yeah! There’s a Ravage that adopted me! Soundwave– *…Cautiously invites Prowl– to come sit down? At least if he’s going to dislike the movie he can be seated comfortably while he’s uncomfortable with everything else.* Swoop– Sometime, uh, sometime Us watch COMP-i-lation videos. For fights and guts and stuff. That more fun than talk movie. Prowl– *starts. right, yeah, he hasn’t sat yet.* *sits stiffly.* Windchill– Then go watch one of those instead of complaining about what we’re watching now, Swoop–. Swoop– Nooo. *holds onto Windchill–’s helm* Us ALL do. Together. Fun. Soundwave– @P: [[If there is anything you need while you are here - /anything/ - …please, be certain to tell him.]] Smokescreen– … Eddie, Aliens are real Specs– Cats simply have standards about who they /do/ like. Blaster– …..wouldn’t this place have cameras? Windchill– Not when the plot demands it. Swoop– ((This seems like a talk y'all should have had in the car)) Smokescreen– Man, secret walls are always a bad sign, aren’t they? Swoop– Plot 😛 Smokescreen– Like, it was like that in Gotham too Soundwave– [[Always and ever, Smokescreen–.]] Windchill– Maybe we’ll see more goo. Prowl– ((they talked about the weather and how the LA angels were doing all the way here and then she was like “oh right shoulda mentioned the aliens”)) Smokescreen– … I guess no walls are secret for me, though, haha. Swoop– Goo is okay : > Windchill– Killer goo. Blaster– …….. Soundwave– [[…He assumes the goo motionless on the floor is de– oh, it’s the homeless human.]] Smokescreen– oh no Windchill– Why is she frozen? Blaster– ………. Swoop– ((omfg did he really just randomly mash buttons)) Prowl– *grimaces at the noise and lights* Blaster– -covers face again- Soundwave– *Of course they’re preying on those with no alternatives. Of course they are.* *Ugh, the lights.* Swoop– Her choke : V Prowl– *grimaces even harder at the living thing oozing over and under his skin* Smokescreen– Is… Is she gonna be okay Windchill– Dead people. Are you happy now? Swoop– *bounces a little at finally getting some fights* KEHEHH Yah! SCProwl– I sincerely doubt it, Smokescreen–. Smokescreen– He was like “I’ve never climbed a fence THAT high before” And then he woke up at home Windchill– What. Smokescreen– Oh… /Sad, Sad, doorwing droop/ Swoop– Kehaha! Him KILL tree. Soundwave– ((lmfao smokey)) Blaster– That’s…most humans should’t be able to do that Swoop– ((omfg)) SCProwl– ((lol smokey Prowl– ((lol)) Swoop– ((he is the most confused koala)) Soundwave– [[…He is going to go out on a limb and assume that none of this athletic ability is normal for Brock.]] Swoop– *immediately busts up* Out on limb Windchill– *Brows furrow.* Swoop–. Smokescreen– This is a mood Swoop– HI Windchill– *Shakes head.* Blaster– Um…. Smokescreen– … This is extremely relatable Windchill– Why are we being made to hear these gross eating sounds. Blaster– UM Swoop– Him Slag eat like that Smokescreen– oh … He’s kinda weak, huh? Blaster– Ah, there we go Soundwave– *Shudders. Disgustin– WELL THEN* Windchill– I mean, I eat off the floor and out of the trash sometimes. Blaster– !!! Prowl– *shudders at the voice* Swoop– *loses it again at the high pitched scream and KO* Smokescreen– Same! Sometimes, you just gotta have floor food SCProwl– Ugh. Windchill– Extra flavour. Floor flavour. Sometimes tastes oddly of feet. Smokescreen– I can’t say I know what feet taste like! Swoop– *holds his footsie up for Windchill–’s inspection* Windchill– They’re nothing spectacular. Swoop– *wiggles his borby toes* Soundwave– *Watching date Prowl– out of the corner of his optics. Part of him wishes Prowl– hadn’t put himself through this if it was going to be this tough. Another part of him appreciates the glimpse into what it must be like for Prowl– based on his reactions. Mostly, he just wishes it hadn’t ever needed to be a problem.* Windchil *Is immediately distracted by the foot in his face. You know he’s gotta do it.* Swoop– ((Lola, go fuck 'em up!)) Prowl– … That’s another one, isn’t it? Smokescreen– … /Watching Windchill–. Is he gonna do it??/ Windchill– *His glossa snakes out and strikes like a viper in case Swoop– tries to change his mind.* *Gotta lick fast.* Blaster– …… Soundwave– [[Yes. There is one that broke loose during the crash of the Life Foundation ship that brought them to Earth. It is that one.]] Swoop– *SQUEAKS but doesn’t pull away because he isn’t a putz* Blaster– I…what….what is going on here? Smokescreen– …… I’d do this Primus Windchill– *Is watching the debacle on screen with exactly one eye.* Swoop– ((omg I have never seen such a fantastic embodiment of the munchies)) Windchill– Your foot tastes exactly like a foot. Congratulations. Swoop– Good : > Windchill– What happens if you fart in a lobster tank? Smokescreen– /Oh dang he thought Windchill– was gonna bite Swoop–’s feet off or something./ Blaster– ….um… Windchill– Do they die? Well, that one’s dead. Blaster– Is……is he…. Swoop– Bubble Prowl– *it’s just a sustained grimace* Windchill– You can put your foot down, now. Unless you want me to lick it again. Which would be weird. Swoop– ((I’ve seen lots of characters called trash over the years but this man is the first one who is actual literal trash)) Windchill– *points* Dog. SCProwl– ((garbage man, dumpster fire trash loser Prowl– ((they do real good at making him look like absolute garbage)) Swoop– You Windchill– weird kehhehhh! *sets his foot on Windchill– for the grossest footprint* Windchill– You’re the one who wanted your foot licked. You think I lick things for fun? Swoop– Yes Windchill– You’d be right. Swoop– Kehehehheh Soundwave– [[…Is it the magnetic fields or sound?]] *Pity neither would work. He thinks. He hasn’t tried the sound, but Devastator’s a whole different thing.* [[Ah. Sound.]] Smokescreen– Liver failure? SCProwl– Fascinating. Prowl– *that was an amazing visual representation of what it feels like to have a monster in your head. and, of course, Prowl– hated it* Specs– I think human livers are also slightly mandatory, yes. Blaster– -he could do it- Smokescreen– What do they do? Swoop– ((this voice is a hair too close to Audrey II. It’s making me expect a song.)) Smokescreen– Do you have a liver, Specs–? Windchill– I leap up and act weird when I get hungry, too. SCProwl– ((feeeeeeed meeee, eddieeeeee Prowl– ((“does it have to be fresh? does it have to be mine?!” “actually lobster will do”)) Swoop– Weird how? Keheh Smokescreen– ((PFHPFHF Specs– I do! It processes methanol into formic acid, amongst other things. I don’t think human livers need to do that, though. SCProwl– ((bwahaha Windchill– Apparently eating garbage is weird. Blaster– ((HAH Smokescreen– Really? Why? Swoop– Me Swoop– BOMBER. Me do lots lots of flying and stuff. Soooo. *pats his belly* Weigh stuff for right amount things. : > Specs– Humans typically don’t have methanol in their bloodstream, right? Smokescreen– … Methanol? I have no idea, Specs–. Soundwave– *Slooooooowly tries to close his mouth as tight as possible.* Windchill– Because…nobody else wants to eat it? Are you implying that you poop on people, Swoop–? Windchill– It’s a biological antifreeze, for my species! But humans don’t live in the snow all the time. Swoop– *cackles* BOMB poops Soundwave– [[He is up to something. His voice suggests it.]] Smokescreen– Don’t trust him Prowl– His lab full of human experimentation suggests it. Smokescreen– oh no Windchill– Burnt. Swoop– Me : > Smokescreen– EDDIE Windchill– Some people never listen. Soundwave– [[The lab as well, yes. But he meant without seeing evidence of intention at the time.]] Swoop– *LOSES it* *this comedy is on his level* Windchill– Um excuse me that’s not a bug. Rude. Smokescreen– I wish I had goo Swoop– *stares, wide opticed and delighted* Prowl– *… Prowl– figures Soundwave– is probably dying of curiosity by this point, so…* @S «Devastator doesn’t talk to me.» Soundwave– *Lets go of the tray on his lap and pulls his feelers back in. Those will just be staying in his chest all night, yes.* Swoop– *in awe* Wicked! Windchill– I’m not even going to comment on goo right now. Smokescreen– Soundwave–, any idea where a bot can get some goo? Windchill– Just eat them. Swoop– *clacks his jaws together to let everyone know where he stands on the biting off heads discussion* Soundwave– *The tiniest blip of surprise. He wasn’t expecting that. He was wondering that, but he wasn’t expecting it.* @P: [[But you have reacted to architecturally destructive visuals before. Is it emotional instead of verbal, or…?]] Swoop– *is glued to the scrreen, loving this* Soundwave– [[He does not know where to find goo. He would not tell anyone here if he did.]] *That’s the last thing any of them need.* Swoop– *taps his heels against Windchill– as he chirps to himself* Smokescreen– Like- it doesn’t have to be that goo. Windchill– *Tolerates this.* Smokescreen– Just some goo to touch, 'cause it looks pretty cool. Prowl– @S «Emotional. Sometimes he makes… something like noises. But he doesn’t talk.» @S «… Bombshell talked.» Swoop– *claps* Windchill– *Could make jokes about lubricants…but is saving the dirty jokes for later.* Swoop– WHOOOOOO! Windchill– You like the explosions? Swoop– DUH! Windchill– I like the colour, it’s very fancy. Swoop– Me Swoop– could blue fire with some copper : > Windchill– Yeah, like how they make fireworks with different colours. Swoop– FACE fireworks! Soundwave– @P: [[Noises. Like screaming or growling, then?]] *That made sense. Maybe he needed everyone to have a coherent mind? No, Devastator had called him through Prowl– before. Someone not in control, then.* [[…Did he talk like this? Like the creature does to the Brock human.]] Windchill– Uh, yeah. Swoop– DEAD KAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA DEEEEEEEEEAD Soundwave– *…THAT is certainly one advantage of having one of these symbiotes.* Blaster– ….that oh wow Prowl– @S «LIKE that. It’s not actual audible sounds, but it /feels/ like roaring.» *he considers the question for a long moment.* «… No. It was a lot worse than this.» Windchill– That’s a lot of teeth. I approve. Swoop– KAH! BITE! Windchill– *Nods.* *He has a certain appreciation for biting the heads off of enemies.* Soundwave– *oh, it’s got Soundwave–’s teeth* Blaster– -actually squeaks this time- Windchill– I like this goo guy. Prowl– *shudders at venom’s little speech* Smokescreen– Rude! Swoop– ((Was that a NOSE BOOP?)) Smokescreen– ((YES Blaster– Yep, okay, no Soundwave– @P: [[He imagines there was never a 'we’.]] *Oh, did it HAVE to say it was in his head? Really?* Prowl– @S «… That was closer to what it was like.» Blaster– The CHILD SCProwl– That’s why this is called Venom? *Disappointed. There’s nothing venomous about the symbiote.* Smokescreen– Renal? Swoop– Gots Windchill– Hey no looking at your phone while driving, lady. Prowl– @P: [[That is - obviously you did not want a 'we’. He is trying to say, he doubts Bombshell spoke to you in any manner other than ordering.]] Windchill– I’m calling the police. Soundwave– *points to the police for Windchill–* Windchill– *He appreciates the assistance but refuses to look.* Prowl– @S «You’re correct. Nearly everything Venom said to him could have been something Bombshell said.» Swoop– ((WE <3 )) Smokescreen– ((WE SCProwl– Could they be poisoning their hosts? Would a compatible human even exist then? Blaster– -ohprimusheightsno- Windchill– Most things are less ugly from a distance. Blaster– Stop looking DOWN Windchill– Defeated by a plane. Smokescreen– Awww. Man, that is the nastiest sweatshirt ever Twincast– ((asfgh Prowl– ((i fucking love)) Swoop– ((are they fucking flirting)) Smokescreen– ((Yes Prowl– ((you know it)) Blaster– ((AWESOME Swoop– Whoaaaaaaa *starry optics* Swerve– //i know it’s canon in the comics that they;re like, married but sometimes i’m surprised that they allowed that much implied flirting in the movie Windchill– Oh, nice. Prowl– ((married with a BABY)) Swerve– //yea lmao Swoop– *in awe* Me Swoop– wanna do that….! : V Prowl– ((… multiple babies but like only the latest one counts)) Windchill– How did she get in? Soundwave– ((y'all ain’t wondered why i said venomtines day lmao)) Prowl– ((they weren’t ready to be parents before)) Windchill– You Swoop– do what? Smash people with other people? Swoop– *Snickers.* Yah! Soundwave– @P: [[He is sorry. That it was what it was. … And thankful that he can speak to you as he does. He often wondered, but - this is very - it is clarifying.]] *Oh, the scared and needing help bit tugs his spark. Damn it.* Swoop– ((And thus Eddie learns that it’s best to just listen to someone else because he has no goddamn sense)) Blaster– Oh, he’d /hate/ me Prowl– @S «This really doesn’t give a very good glimpse of it.» Soundwave– *Kind of glad she’s trying to help, at least.* @P: [[It was more than this?]] Swoop– ((Omg Venom and Annie fuckin got each other’s backs)) Swerve– //venom a+ wingman? Swoop– ((dealing with this terrible garbage man they love)) Prowl– @S «God, yes.» Windchill– Fantastic. Prowl– ((see that there is kind of the beginning and end of his entire self-reflection on the fact that he screwed things up royally)) ((and it came with prompting and didn’t really indicate that he has any understanding that everything ELSE he did was wrong)) Windchill– Gross. Swoop– Punch it Prowl– ((the rest of the movie is like “oh… yeah… this dude really IS a villain… eddie was good for standing up for him, probably, and isn’t it sad that he doesn’t have a job.”)) ((like he’s explicitly characterized as a “loser.” as a person who failed. not as, for instance, an “asshole.” losers are victims of circumstance, not the architects of their own failure.)) Blaster– ((DOGGO Windchill– Oh joy, this is gonna be an interrogation scene, isn’t it. Swerve– //i love the movie but yeah in this case he’s only seen as a loser because he was an asshole in the first place and didn’t really seem to grasp that entirely Swoop– Whoo! Swerve– //still love that doggo tho Prowl– ((that’s why I said i’m disappointed at how we’re expected to sympathize with him. they started off strong–making everything his fault, having him say everything is drake’s fault and annie calling him out on it–that was great stuff)) ((but by the end it’s Poor Eddie The Loser Was Right All Along)) Soundwave– @P: [[Is it permitted for him to ask for more explanation? He knows you do not like to discuss this business in detail, and would ask the alternates of his that were controlled, but he has not encountered any in person. He would like to understand more - understand you. If you are able at this point in time.]] Windchill– *Smacks lips at villainous monologue.* Swoop– *leans over to see what the smacking is about* Windchill– *Smacks more.* Prowl– ((and maybe symby sees him as a loser because he sees himself as a loser, rather than as an asshole–but the more the movie goes on, the more that “eddie is the jerk here” narrative fades away)) Swoop– *mimics the smacking* Soundwave– *Starts at Riot’s appearance* Blaster– …….. Swoop– ((gay)) Windchill– *It’s a chorus of smacking with no snacks to smack on. Tragedy.* Smokescreen– Is… Is that where they’re stored Swoop– *doesn’t know what we’re doing but it’s a team sport now* Windchill– *Smack smack smack.* Prowl– @S «… For starters, Bombshell didn’t let me copilot.» Windchill– *Stops smacking.* Blaster– HOLY-! Windchill– Wow, boobies. *Resumes smacking.* Twincast– ((weakass ladyvenom design Blaster– Um…. Swoop– ((does this count as a threesome)) Prowl– ((i choose to believe that kiss was entirely symby)) Windchill– WHAT. *Fluffs up.* Swoop– King Blaster– I’m… Okay… Windchill– *Grunts in displeasure.* Blaster– Not going to ask Swerve– //i think i like the comic version of klyntar’s more tho than the mcu version Windchill– Awkward, but I’m going to laugh at this. Yes. Smokescreen– ((awwww Prowl– ((i prefer comic venom entirely)) Swoop– Laugh at what? Windchill– My mate’s name is Riot. Prowl– ((the movie version is fun but it’s not my preference)) Swoop– Sweet : V Swerve– //i havent read enough of the venom comics to know him outside the mcu but i do at least know the klyntar in the comics enough to prefer them to mcu’s SCProwl– ((this isn’t mcu. it’s its own thing Prowl– ((~*venomverse*~)) Blaster– ….-muffled snicker- Swerve– //gfhbg yeah i just. refer to all of the live action superhero movies mcu at this point lmao Windchill– …My Riot isn’t that goopy, though. Swoop– You suuure? Windchill– Not usually. Maybe sometimes. Prowl– ((*sees a new batman movie* “grimdark mcu is at it again”)) Windchill– Can’t fight for shit either. Swoop– Whoa! Him get BUTT kicked! Blaster– ….. Swerve– //lmfao i mean Windchill– What a mess. Blaster– What the heck? Windchill– Well, that didn’t last long. Blaster– Annie! Swoop– You Soundwave– can beat up EVERYONE in this movie. Prowl– ((two nerds pathetically smacking each other is the best part of the fight)) Soundwave– @P: [[You have great willpower; the amount of control he would have to have taken - what he’d have to exert to keep you held in–]] *He’s thinking about how much it would take from himself.* [[…You saw Unicron’s control of Megatron. Could you speak to - or at - him as Megatron did? Or were you denied even that?]] Swoop– ((is it just me or is everyone else waiting for venom to get all hot and bothered by his host beating up someone elses’ host?)) Windchill– Dead. Soundwave– [[Perhaps. He’s never encountered a symbiote.]] *And he didn’t do so well against the Unicron up close.* Swoop– D E A D Windchill– Is… Is the sound of the rocket not enough? Prowl– @S «Willpower shmillpower. He didn’t have to exert anything. That’s not how the mechanics of it works.» Swoop– KA BOOM! Windchill– Double dead. Blaster– -covers face- Swoop– drown dead pretty boring dead Soundwave– @P: [[Hm. Closer to a virus?]] Windchill– If you say so. Swoop– Do Do say so Windchill– Not enough explosions? Swoop– Drowning boring. Blub blub fish nibbles. Windchill– Okay. Why are his lips so big Prowl– @S «He severed the connection between my brain and my body.» Soundwave– *Sits up straight.* Tarantulas (( OOPS SORRY (( didnt mean to take remote Smokescreen– ((theif,, Tarantulas (( stealin spide Swoop– ((venom omg buddy)) Smokescreen– ((sneaky spide Soundwave– @P: [[…That is more horrifying than anything he had imagined it was.]] Swoop– ((this is a real romcom good god)) Windchill– Dog. Blaster– ((STAN LEEEE Windchill– *Gasps.* Swoop– Nom nom bite Windchill– There are rules about eating people? That’s news to me. Swoop– Me Swoop– bite LOTS of people Not eat tho Windchill– Luckily, I don’t care much for rules so like, whatever. Just bite? Why? Are you mean? Swoop– ((I hope that writing job pays well because his food budget just went through the damn roof)) Yah, mean : > Windchill– Cool. All of my friends are mean. Smokescreen– “I have a parasite” Man, what an excuse Blaster– ((not hungry anymore Prowl– *mutters* I’m calling Devastator a parasite from now on. *it’s not a term of endearment.* Swoop– ((Wait wait… that was the line from the trailer that they made all ominous.)) Prowl– ((the trailer was so misleading)) Swoop– ((no kidding)) Windchill– (( Oh yeah I’ve had discussions about that one. Marketing at its finest, as usual.)) Blaster– ((it was Prowl– ((venom is menacing toward eddie for all of five minutes and then immediately starts falling in love with him)) Swerve– //yeah when i went to see it originally i expected that scene way way earlier Specs– ((that’s the power of tom hardy)) Soundwave– *Approval ping after the parasite Devastator comment.* Windchill– Edgy. Swerve– //this def sets up for a sequel tho so i’m curious if they’re gonna follow thru on it Swoop– Him not very red ((little on the nose but I’m okay with it)) Prowl– ((i’m disappointed that eddie wasn’t a beefy mulleted blond, but tom hardy is just SO GOOD at being gross in that hoodie, i’ll take him too)) Blaster– ((HAH Swerve– //lmao Windchill– *Stretches exactly one leg.* Smokescreen– ((im still so glad the lobster tank scene was unscripted and he just did that Windchill– That sure was gooey. Prowl– ((I KNOW it was brilliant)) Swoop– ((Tom Hardy did a good job for sure. Normally, when people say “you look terrible” to someone in a movie, it’s a cue on how we should be reading things. In this movie, he actually looked fucking awful.)) Prowl– ((he did. he looked nasty the whole movie)) Swoop– ((Was it really? That is beautiful)) Swerve– //im so glad it was god Specs– *the dragon stretches* Thank you for having me, Soundwave–! Swoop– It pretty good fights : > OH! Us do Mad Max now : V That good fight movie : > Windchill– Had some explosions. Soundwave– [[You are welcome, dragon.]] Swerve– //is this a deleted scene //also wow rabbit did u need to cut off the last post of the chat Soundwave– ((yes)) Prowl– ((this is a great scene and i’m so upset they took it out)) Blaster– ((pffff Swoop– ((So damn good)) SCProwl– ((Venom is gonna make Eddie a better person via cannibalism and tater tots Swoop– ((I saw pics of Eddie getting carried away fro mthe lobster tank too)) Soundwave– ((public stream end marker: 10:00)) Windchill– *Rolls his shoulders. Will this dislodge the dinobot?* Smokescreen– So, uh, Soundwave— you up to maybe dance again sometime? Swoop– *has stayed on a bucking T-rex trying to dislodge him, this is nothing* Windchill– *Sways from side to side.* Soundwave– [[Another time, Smokescreen–. Not tonight.]] *And not to this, for sure.* Swoop– What you dancing for? Windchill– Excuse me? Dance? How dare you suggest such a thing. I’m trying to get you off. Swoop– yuh HUH dance Windchill– Ineffectively. Swoop– Oh Then you suck at doing keheheh Smokescreen– Aww, okay. I’d be up to meet up with you to dance sometime, then! It’d be fun. Windchill– *Grunts his agreement.* Soundwave– [[Perhaps after a movie that is actually fun.]] Twincast– *staaaands. maybe he wasn’t so chatty tonight, but he’d be rude to not give their host a ping goodbye. Maybe next time~* Windchill– You’ll have to get off sometime. Soundwave– *Perhaps next time indeed. Farewell, Twincast–.* Twincast– ((I was so engrossed I forgot to RP. It was fun!! Thanks for streaming : D Swoop– ((I know the movie might have MEANT to imply that Annie was lying about the kiss being Venom’s idea but Venom literally never missed a chance to try to smash them together like Barbie dolls so I 10/10 believe her.)) Nuh uh Smokescreen– … I thought that was fun Windchill– Yuh-huh. Swoop– Not if us DIE here Soundwave– ((you’re welcome!)) Windchill– Oh. Well, sure, but why would we die here? Smokescreen– Oh! Oh, I know a good dance song for us, later. Have you ever heard of Cascada, Soundwave–? Swopp *is joking but he’s got a back full of missiles if we want to end it all* Blaster– ….-yawns and stretches- Swoop– so BORED from these songs us DIE Windchill– *Snorts.* I like them. Swoop– no Windchill– Yes. Blaster– Anyway, thanks for that, but I have to go now. Hopefully to sleep. Swoop– nO Windchill– I’m not having this argument with you. Blaster– Goodnight. Swoop– yes Soundwave– [[Goodnight, those leaving.]] Swerve– //nini friendos Windchill– No. Soundwave– [[And of course he has heard of that. Again, though: another night.]] Swoop– *squeaks* YES Smokescreen– Cool! I’m looking forward to it. Thanks for the crystal- and I still REALLY want you to show me how to knock bots down like you did earlier! Windchill– No, you can’t make me. *Squints at the squeaking next to his head.* Swoop– Can too Smokescreen– /Smokescreen–’s finally getting himself up, and is dropping by the bar to grab a drink before he finally goes home!/ Windchill– No. I have a date later and you, *he points over his shoulder at the Swoop– in question,* want no part of it, so you have to get off and like, not waste my time. *Stands up, Swoop– or no Swoop–.* Swoop– a DATE? :V Windchill– That’s what I said. Swoop– *PERKS UP* TOP GUN Soundwave–, us watch Top Gun? *bounces right off Windchill–* Windchill– *Oh, thank god.* Soundwave– [[No, not right now. Now it is time to leave.]] Swoop– : < But Top Gun good movie, Soundwave– Soundwave– [[Then go home and watch it with your brothers.]] Swoop– Them LAME No flying Windchill– Goodnight, thanks for goo movie, have fun telling Swoop– no for the next several minutes. Swoop– : > Soundwave– [[Goodnight, you are welcome, and he absolutely won’t.]] Swoop– Howwww about a LITTLE top gun : > Just flying parts! Windchill– I guess it’s not for everyone. Bye Swoop–, I’m leaving you here. Sucker. Swoop– *clearly has better taste than Windchill– since he is fighting for TOP GUN* Windchill– *Clearly.* *Waves, and backs for the exit.* Soundwave– [[On your way, now, Swoop–. There is no Top Gun here.]] Swoop– *gives the BIGGEST SIGH IN THE WORLD* fine Windchill– *Normally picks up straggler children to deposit home, but is apparently choosing to be irresponsible and leave it for Soundwave– to deal with.* Swoop– You Soundwave– boring boring Windchill– *And he’s gone before that can change.* Soundwave– [[Yes. What a terrible bot he is. Best you go and leave him to do dull paperwork and listen to people talking for hours without any fighting.]] Swoop– *knows he’s being teased but doesn’t NOT believe that’s what’s going to happen so he blows raspberries all the way out the door* Soundwave– *What do you know? That worked.* Prowl– *gives Soundwave– an expectant look* Soundwave– *Looks back and then around. He’s… he’s not actually sure what to do now. This was a Bad Night, movie-wise.* [[Do - would you like to clean, like the last time, or -]] *Twitchy fingers.* [[We could walk through the settlement nearby, or - anything else you would prefer to do. Actual paperwork, even. He does not know.]] Prowl– You mean doing paperwork and listening to people talking for hours WASN’T the explicit plan? Soundwave– [[Oh. He said that mostly to be rid of Swoop– in a timely fashion, but he has nothing against it if you would actually like that. He has plenty of the first, and the second could be either of us. Or someone else, if you had them in mind.]] Prowl– *… humor ping* Soundwave– *Oh, a joke. Okay, he’s got it now.* [[Ah. His apologies. That actually IS how he likes to spend his nights sometimes.]] *He forgets himself and smiles the teensiest bit.* Prowl– Me too. Sans talking, usually. Soundwave– [[He sees. … Do you have paperwork with you? We could work on that together. Sitting together, that is. Obviously, he is not entitled to type up your reports for you.]] *Pause.* [[Though he could do so with extreme speed.]] *Shakes his head.* [[A good and comfortable shared silence is never to be taken for granted.]] [[…Unless you meant you prefer someone else to do the talking, in which case he has plenty of tales he could tell you.]] Prowl– No, I don’t have paperwork with me. I—don’t know what I want to do. *it’s partially untrue. he does know what he wants to do—go home and be alone for a while—but he can’t have that. he’s never going to be alone again.* Soundwave– *Considers this.* [[You could do nothing, in a sense.]] *Small hand gesture.* [[Sitting and resting, sleeping, doing something unimportant for no reason other than it is fun. That sort of thing.]] Prowl– So, the usual movie night options. *beat.* … The usual besides interfacing. Soundwave– [[A fair point, if an important one. Such moments tend to be good for us both. Though he would like to clarify that he was not thinking of interfacing. He may not have the ability to sing, but he is not tone deaf.]] [[He will clean before it is much later. Experiment with what you care to do at the moment as you like; all he asks is that if you decide what you wish to do is something away from him, you interrupt to bid him goodnight first instead of simply popping away. An acceptable deal?]] Prowl– Mm. I’ll help clean. *that’s something productive he can latch onto. he doesn’t want to just sit and stare around* Soundwave– *Nods and motions toward the couches. Bridge away!* [[…He doesn’t suppose he could get you to help with the upstairs, the Kangaskhan, and the outer walls as well? Being away for a week tends to inspire his deployers to leave things undone.]] *Humor ping.* Prowl– Sure. Maybe not the—the Genghis Khan. I’d rather not have to worry about stepping on organics. Soundwave– [[Oh, they’re very sharp when it comes to not being stepped on - but better to err on the side of caution, yes. Still. He should introduce you to them some time, now that they have air masks.]] Prowl– Another time.]] Soundwave– ((aw man you can’t edit now? booooo)) [[Another time. Not now. Very well, here and the upper floors - and perhaps, if you still feel up to it and are not afraid of heights, he will show you how the deployers scrub the outer walls. And how he does. Both very entertaining.]] *Another small smile, because the first wasn’t as much of a problem as he’d expected. He’s trying to be a distraction. Primus only knows if it works.* [[Come, come. Everything to its place, now.]] *Affection, times three.* Prowl– I’d hardly call that “heights.” It’s only a few stories. *height’s relative and his universe’s Cybertronians are durable. he gets to work bridging the couches back where they belong; there’s a moment of hesitation before he remembers to return the three pings.* Soundwave– [[You’ve never met Blades, have you.]] *Soft huff.* Prowl– Sure. I’ve known him since before the war, we were in Security Services under Sentinel Prime. Starscream forced him into a combiner recently. Soundwave– *Puts the snacks he was crating back on the bar and turns to look at Prowl–, mouth in a small o and everything.* [[…Were it anyone else talking, he would suspect that of being a joke.]] *Shakes his head and goes back to packing.* [[Another reason to see Starscream deposed, he supposes. And he is sorry to hear of your - friend’s? - fate.]] [[He did mean his own, however. Grounder turned extremely unwilling helicopter turned grounder again. He would be surprised if Blades is even capable of jumping anymore. Poor mech.]] [[…Perhaps there’s a link somewhere in this misfortune of theirs. He’ll note it on the map.]] Prowl– I’ve never heard of mine ever being anything but a helicopter. And since I’ve known him since before extensive body mods were allowed, I suspect that’s his original shape. *all the couches are in place, he’s going to find something else to clean.* Not friend. Just longtime acquaintance. Soundwave– [[Longtime acquaintance, then. Still - he would not have wished that on him.]] *Mopping behind the bar while he’s there.* [[Do the two of you speak now?]] Prowl– He and his team have a standing invitation to contact me if they—need anything. They haven’t utilized it recently. Soundwave– [[Disappointing.]] *Maybe it would be good for Prowl– to have someone who Really, Really Gets It he could talk about it with, instead of Soundwave–’s fumbling attempts? Then again, that means someone else had to go through it. He doesn’t know. Unpleasant and sticky situations he never gave much thought to before the war ended.* [[But understandable, in a way. Some pains are too personal to share so easily.]] [[…Thank you for trying to explain it to him earlier, while he is thinking about it. He knows he does not fully grasp all of your situation, but he will continue to try. He would like to always be someone you can rely on to listen to and hear you when you speak about it. You deserve that.]] [[Enough of this room. Let us go clean upstairs. It needs it more anyway.]] Prowl– *a jerky nod* Thanks. For listening. *it sounds hollow right now, when he’s tired of thinking about it; but he knows that later on when he’s less exhausted he’ll be grateful for it.* Lead the way. *and up they shall go.*

#chat #submission

[purge-that-urge-rhackathon]

Do you read works people gift to you?

I print them out and eat them xD

I’d like to preface this answer by saying first and foremost that I used to work (not fun, i HATED it) in the film industry doing a LOT of jobs, and one of those was doing script coverage. For those unfamiliar with the term, script coverage is where they give you a pile of all these fucking scripts they’re either deciding to buy the rights to, have bought the rights to, or need an abstract written to help them decide whether or not to pursue it to the point of making a film themselves, or releasing their license for someone else to purchase it. One page translates to one minute of screen time, yeah? Do the math there, and most features will be 90-150+ pages.

And that’s where my job came in: having to sit for hours forced to read a lot of shit i didn’t want to (and i was the book-nerd at the library who LOVED new stuff right? i’ve read somewhere around 10,000 books since high school and i read very fast too) so this was something akin to torture for me. I have read a lot of shit. Shit i’m really really glad will never make it to the big screen. Shit that made no sense. Shit that triggered me up and down. Shit in genres not up my alley in the first place. Shit that will never get made because of the abstracts I wrote having to tell the studio how shit it was, in professional-ese. It was a few months in beverly hills of doing that before my ass quit.

So while i really appreciate the shit out of the intentions, and goddamn am i grateful and flattered as fuck someone might want to gift me something, unless you know me, like really intimately (maybe only 5 people on this site i’d say, and they know who they are), it’s something very hard for me to accept and the ensuing anxiety over trying not to be an ungrateful bastard or be mean at all just because its not up my alley, and the pressure to hopefully not discourage someone (and i NEVER want to discourage someone, i really really want people to have fun doing what they do!) just really makes gift fic an unpleasant experience for me.

It’s like… it’s different from fanart. Fanart you see the thing and BOOM. You know its for you or not. And even if its not, you can usually pretty easily complement the color scheme or technical skill or find something about it to be nice and gracious over.

The written word is not like this. Sometimes you’ll begin to read a thing and know right away it is not for you, and you need to get out of there. I take it one step further in my judgmentalness: if the grammar is really bad, i won’t read it. If the visual structure (no paragraph breaks, for example) isn’t proper, i won’t read it. If they keep misspelling the same word or someone’s name, it drives me nuts to the point of not reading further. If things start taking a turn I don’t like, or gets too wordy or too descriptive (OR lacks such), i won’t read it. More to the point, if the general subject matter is not up my alley, i wont read it. If the portrayal of the characters isn’t something i like, or squicks me, i wont read it. I have a list as long as the day of dealbreakers for myself. 

I mean i think we can just sum this up to why some people will read certain authors and some won’t, right? We can all understand our own unique tastes.

When I’m gifted a fic, I feel like i am back in that old-ass chair with a pile of scripts dreading what is to come. I have no choice. It’s a gift, and the nature of a gift is you must be gracious even if you don’t like it. I think that’s asking a LOT of someone who didn’t ask for the thing. Especially if it’s a longer fic, or lord forbid multi-chaptered. It’s like, i didn’t sign up for this ride, please don’t make me ride this ride, i want off. It’s nothing on the person who wrote the thing, and everything on me. I am picky. I have a lot of deal breakers. And I don’t like to lie. I really really don’t like to lie. And forcing my hand with something like that and telling someone false things and also having to have that in my brain for however long it takes to read it? Instant panic attack. It’s one of my triggers, and i know it is.

A coworker last year asked me to do script coverage for him because i lived in japan for 4 years, and his script was focused on some japanese stuff… and was so goddamn outlandish like i didn’t know what to say to him. It put me in a position i didn’t want to be in. How to be nice and still be friends, but also delicate about his art? It’s not a good place to put someone. I had a lot of panic attacks before I had to tell him I WILL ONLY TRANSLATE YOUR JAPANESE FOR YOU I DONT HAVE TIME TO READ THIS. And we haven’t spoken about it since.

Art is subjective, yes, but I would say writing is far more subjective. It’s not a visual medium. It’s a lot more about technical skill. And then you get into the story content and choice of words there. Unless you’re one of those 5 people I mentioned earlier, anon, chances are you don’t know my precise triggers and my very specific tastes as to what i’ll read. What I write and what I read aren’t necessarily related.

I see gift fic kind of as someone telling you to come over and watch a movie. You don’t get to choose the movie. The person who had you come over does, and they’re really excited about it only for you to find out its something you do NOT want to sit and waste part of your life with… but this is someone you wanna be nice to but god the suffering… i think we’ve all had some sort of experience like that. But dial it up a notch or three and toss in panic disorder and you have me.

I don’t like to be forced to have to read something i didn’t actively search out myself. It’s part of the reason i REALLY hate people asking me to ‘look over’ their fics for them. I am of course extremely flattered, but im a hack writer and my word isn’t better than anyone else’s, and i know there are beta readers out there who actively like to do the thing. But i have neither the time nor inclination to read something i didn’t pick myself. Like someone buying you clothes. They might know your size but then the style could not be to your liking, or maybe the size and style is just fine but the material is scratchy and rubs you the wrong way. It’s probably better off not buying someone clothes, yeah?

I think i’ve been pretty thorough explaining myself and my background with the whole idea and my thought process as to why i don’t necessarily like gift fic, anon. When it happens, i’ll usually click it, but it puts me in a fucking horrid situation i will do anything to get out of. I’ve had people do it in the past in order to try and get my ‘attention’ and manipulate me to promote them (and then i stopped writing for about 9 years) and i’ve already stated i’ll promote anyone who needs it, but just the whole idea behind gift fic rubs me the wrong way. And because of my severe anxiety and not wanting to possibly be misunderstood on the topic, you’ve gotten an epic written back about the hows and whys and the history behind me hating unsolicted fic recs… gift fic is kind of in the same category for me.

You can dedicate shit to me left and right if i’ve inspired you, that’s really bitchin and i’m glad! Just… don’t force me to have to read it, or put me in a position where you’re like “Hey i gifted this go read it. Did you read it? What did you think?” That is my LITERAL nightmare. Aside from very-real time constraints as i am a bartender and dont have all the free tie in the world, I’ve really gotta put my mental health as my main priority. I’m really really sorry if this hurts anyone’s feelings :( That’s clearly not my intent by the massive text wall i’ve written, but i just want to be fully understood that its not coming out of a place of unkindness, but more of mental self-preservation and aversion to situations which have triggered panic attacks in the past.

I hope i’ve been clear somewhat D:

#poisonjack answers #you guys can clearly tell when im under the strain of anxiety or not due to the sheer text wall responses i sometimes give HAHA #just... sorry if this is one of you who've gifted me work int he past D: it puts me in a really weird position #...like getting song fic or something without knowing i HATE it... ad then gifting me something like that... awkwaaaaard #LOL i REALLY hope no one's feelings are hurt :( i super appreciate any and all gestures like you guys are rad as hell #i dont want to be an ungracious asshole... gift fic is a weird territory #im probably the only one who would even think stuff ike this sorry D: want to explain myself properly

[gildedink]

The servants robotically dressed the boy, never looking at his face. He stood still, lifting his arms as needed while the ceremonial robes were placed on him. Once again the King had told him he was to give prophesy. Normally this would irritate him but today was a bit different. A tension hung in the air around the palace. The boy himself had slept and eaten poorly the last month, avoiding dreams. He didn’t want Esfir’mya’s gift. Not this time. There was a sense in his gut that, once this prophesy was said, something in the world would change in a way that could never be taken back. The cords tying his shirt closed were tightened.

As he looked out to the window, the grass swayed. The Spirit Orchid. The cause of all his problems. Of his whole bloodline’s problems. As the anklets and bracelets were placed on his body – pale jade with stunning flowers carved into them – it was like feeling the weight of gold chains. Sometime the boy wonderer if slavery was better; at least the slaver didn’t pretend you were something else. The necklace that was put around his neck felt like a diamond noose.

With the coffee brown veil placed on top of his head, it was finished. One of the servants went to the door and knocked. “The Oracle is ready.” The door opened to show two royal guards. His escort and protection. Both men relaxed a little, seeing that the Oracle’s face was veiled. They didn’t have to be skewered with the those unnatural purple-pink eyes. The boy followed willingly. Down wood corridors whose floors shone with daily scrubbing and smoothing wear. Designs were carved into the doors they passed. Some depicted animals, some nature scenes. Some were adorned with scenes of the heavens, wispy clouds and birds in flight.

Instead of the usual path, the boy noticed he was being taken somewhere else. He looked around, alert. Fear shivered down his spine; was he to be executed? But no, he dismissed the thought. The idea of the King killing him in such a manner were absurd; the arrangement of his psudo-slavery is why the Gorseŏn Kingdom was flourishing as it was. His words brought money to the king’s coffers in addition to the boost in prestige; prophesy wasn’t free after all. He took a few breaths. As they rounded another corner the King himself was there, waiting in front of the ornate double doors flanked by another pair of guards. “Finally.” The man loomed over the boy, white peppering his neatly trimmed and shaped beard. His dark brown eyes scrutinized the boy before grabbing the other’s chin and making him look up. “Be on your best behavior Keun. I will not tolerate humiliation. Not in front of these men.”

The boy smiled, odd eyes burning with hate. “What, should I make something up again? That seems to be your favorite game to play; pretend.”

The King sneered, resisting the urge to hold Keun’s jaw harder and leave bruises. Only the looming thought of the men in the other room stopped him. “My pretend at least will not require your mother to whore herself out. Or should I remind you what happened to your grandfather?”

“Don’t bring him into this.” Keun hissed.

“Then be obedient. Stupid child…” he muttered in disgust at the end, letting go. “You don’t understand power and you never will. Common filth like you.” The king turned and nodded to the guards. As the heavy doors were pulled open, Keun tried to school his features into serene calm. He knew power. He knew its taste, its touch and its scars. He followed the man into the room. Once in he realized where he was; the throne room. The Queen sat in her seat, face hidden by a jade-plated fan, hair in thick plaits coiled in intricate patterns and secured with gold ornaments and brightly colored silk ribbons. Arranged in front of the throne in an open semicircle were platforms with cushions and low tables laden with food and drink. Foreign men sat, whisper in their language as to make the large room buzz. Each table held one man that seemed to be the center of it all with a guard and translator at their right and left hands. With a shock Keun realized those seated were not dignitaries nor diplomats; they were the kings themselves. Kings, Emperors and leaders of all empires within the world. Now he understood the tension; this place was a powder keg of politics. One slight, one insult, could start a world war. For once, Keun truly would be on his best behavior. Not out of obedience but out of self-preservation.

The king glided to his seat. “Gentlemen! Thank you for your patience.” The translators at each table quickly translated. Several men nodded in acknowledgment. Keun followed the king and stood to his left. “This is a most trying time, filled with fear. But worry not, for the Oracle has heard your cries and comes to soothe your people’s worries.” The men nodded, some smiling. They were confident the Oracle would assuage their fears. If only Keun could explain that wasn’t how it worked. Sometimes not knowing the future was far better in the long run.

“And you’ll make a tidy sum in the process.” one of the men said through his translator. He was draped in buttery yellow, ivory and a touch of crimson, robes threaded with gold and silver lacquered thread. “Spare us the theatrics.”

“Emperor Mengyao, I speak nothing but words of experience! So many have come for the Oracle’s words and have left lighter of heart.” the king of Gorseŏn replied.

“I did not know King Byeong-Ho was a poet.” another man said with a sarcastic smile. The ivory of his teeth shone against the mahogany of his smooth skin. “Perhaps he writes the verses himself?” Several men laughed.

King Byeong-Ho’s smile was tight. “I assure you I write only love poems for my darling wife.” Keun knew for a fact he was fucking a maid bought from the slave docks last week.

“To business please. Time is precious now should even a fraction of what we have all be hearing be true.” another man said. His long black hair shone with health, thin figure hidden by the layers of his colorful, gilded kimono.

“Yes, quite prudent as always Emperor Yuuto.” King Byeong-Ho agreed. He waved for the servants to bring in the stool Keun would sit on as well as the concoction he would drink to induce his visions. At least that was the story. In reality it was just bitter tea laced with foul-smelling herbs.

“Have him show his face.” Everyone turned to the tallest in the group. Keun had seen only a small handful of those from this man’s empire. His skin was painfully pale, eyes like chips of amber and hair a pale chestnut tree bark brown. His beard was neatly groomed. Unlike most he was dressed in simple travel clothing, a thin gold circlet on his head studded with diamonds. Tsar Peter of the Far North Peoples; what he lacked in ornamentation he made up for in exuding pure power. “How do we know you are not swindling us?” All the kings in the room turned to the throne. No one else spoke but the message was clear; prove what you have.

Keun heard his king sigh. “Unveil yourself Oracle. Let them look upon the face of Fate.” He did as instructed. Many gasped, mostly the guards and translators of the world’s leaders. Many of the kings leaned back or flinched at the sight of his eyes. “Now then. Let us be-.”

“He is a child.” It was Tsar Peter again.

“Do not be fooled by appearances, King Peter. He sees more then you or I will ever experience in our lifetimes combined and extended by a thousand years.”

“Where is his mother?”

“Does it matter?” Emperor Mengyao snapped. “I want to know and if a child has the answers I would not turn my nose at it.”

“Did I say I was?” was the clipped reply. However, the tide had turned and the Tsar knew when to silence himself. Keun took this as his cue to sit on the stool. He did so and was handed the bitter brew. He stared into the steam wafting up, letting his mind open. Show me. If there is something these men must know, show me Esfi’mya. The reply was almost instant and Keun could feel phantom vines winding around his limbs in memory.

‘You have kept yourself too long from me. Do not do so again. It hurts me. And it puts you humans at risk. Now… speak my words, darling bud.’ Keun’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before he could lift the cup to his lips. The porcelain fell to the floor with a crash as Keun’s body stiffened. Smoke poured from his lips and the voice that spoke was too deep and too powerful to be coming from a boy not yet beginning manhood.

Until the Balance is restore Humanity will perish, be nevermore So heed words well, I speak them once To ease the err and distribute bunce The Land of Zhohang houses the Golden Bird But split in two; which one, I won’t say a word The Shark swims alone forging its own path Away from the Sea, for it has earned his wrath Together the three shall find the Eye And the hero will lead, soon the Mountain shall die But a word of caution to this happy tale; If the lovers cannot speak, you will ultimately fail.

There was silence as Keun felt Esfir’mya leave him. He blacked out and fell off the stool to the cold floor with a hard thud. Everything was still. Then everything was in chaos. The men began to fire off question after question before their translators could even finish them. Only Tsar Peter and Emperor Yuuto stood up and went over to Keun. The two picked the boy off the floor, checking his head for any injuries and his wrist for a pulse. “What are you doing?” King Byeong-Ho’s voice cut through the din when he noticed two two foreign kings near is coveted Oracle.

“He is a child!” Tsar Peter growled. “How can you be so ill-prepared?! He could have cracked his head open!”

“Who are you to touch the Oracle?!” the man on the throne snapped. “What give you the right to touch him as you do now?!”

“It seems to me,” Emperor Yuuto said quietly. “that you treat him like a slave. Not a holy thing.”

It was quiet for a bit, everyone squirming guiltily in their seats. “Do not act high and mighty, Yuuto.” a man said. His thick hair fell down his back in thick braids. “You are as willing to use him as we are. As we all do.”

“Do not put-!”

“-words in your mouth.” the man cut off. “I am not. I say what we all think. What we all do. At least be honest about it.” Nihoka’s Emperor said nothing. “Now Peter over there? He’s allowed to do so. Priss that he is.”

“I am a father, Lord Ganbataar.” Peter replied. “This tugs at my heart.”

The bulky man snorted. “Maybe sew up that bleeding heart of yours. Then your people will actually grow in that Gods-forsaken place.” Several men laughed. But despite the biting humor, Lord Ganbataar was just as shaken as everyone else. A male servant came and took Keun’s unconscious form away. As soon as the servant and guard were back in Keun’s quarters, they haphazardly deposited his body onto some cushions on the floor and left. The servant would be scrubbing his arms raw for a week, hoping to get the feeling of the other boy’s weight off. A small orchid plant, white and cheerful, waved in the breeze, whispering to its mother, father, creator, of Keun’s return.

Taglist: @omgbrekkerkaz @ikilledmyocs @nepeinthe @hollenzwei @ecririe @writeblrnet @sadragons @hazeywrites @the-ichor-of-ruination @thethew @nerocael

#series: legend of the moving mountain #excerpt: legend of the moving mountain #maybe chapter 1 or the prolouge #really don't know #just know it's at the very start

[shima-draws]

Here it is...the AU I’ve been hinting at lately!!

It’s called Tied Dimensions! I’d give you a basic summary but it’s all already written out below, so you can just read that and get the gist :’) I just think the whole concept is super exciting so.

Read and enjoy!! (It’s from Keef’s POV btw)

My world ended about two hundred and fifty years ago.

We call it World’s Terminus. An unexplained phenomena that plunged the world into darkness and terror, without any prior warning. Nobody saw it coming. Therefore, nobody was prepared. There isn’t much one can do when the world begins to fall apart around them, except run and cower and hide—that is, if you can even make it that far.

I’m what comes after World’s Terminus—what remains of humanity from our planet’s collapse. Billions of people were wiped out from the incident, and the rest were left to rebuild society and start anew. Not that it was easy, considering everything important had been destroyed in the turmoil.

The one really sad thing about my existence is that, even though the world’s population is alarmingly low and needs all the life it can get, I was abandoned. Cast out. Not needed.

I live at a dingy old orphanage on the edge of a broken town, along with the rest of humanity’s unwanted. We’re a gang of angry, depressed misfits who curse what our world has come to, and wonder where it all went wrong. Not that we’d be able to change the outcome, anyway. It’s way too late for that.

This world no longer has any color, not that anybody alive remembers what having color is like. Everything green died, the sky turned a murky gray and all life seemed to be sucked out of the ground like a vacuum. There are still a few artifacts left behind of the world that was before World’s Terminus—but I’ve never seen them. They’re kept in the highest places in society, where the rich and elite live clinging on to the edges of their sanity. Old photographs, paintings and images from the past, the only things left in this world that still have color.

Not that everything has turned completely monotone, of course not. But anything that was once vibrant has none of that brilliance anymore, leaving us in a town full of grays, blacks and browns, and not much else. I have no idea what the color red looks like. Isn’t that utterly tragic?

I spend my days ostracized by the bullies of the orphanage, and ordered around by our so-called caretakers. None of them are kind people, so I’ve learned to do what I’m told without complaint or face beatings.

Any hope I might have had towards escaping this godforsaken place vanished years and years ago. People don’t want to adopt children, they’re too busy figuring out how to survive, how to keep their heads straight on a planet that hasn’t seen the sun in over two-hundred years. Our skies are always gray now, our whole lives are gray. What a boring, dull color.

I’m almost eighteen now. In a few months, I’ll finally be able to break free and cast off, off to some place that doesn’t reek of death and sadness, and at least try to find a place for myself in this world. I’ll no longer have to bow down to the obligations of the people who have raised me, and I won’t have to ever see the twisted, ugly faces of my peers who think they’re everything, when they’re actually nothing.

On the days where I feel more alone and angry than ever, I sneak out the back window and go exploring through the ruins of World’s Terminus.

Not much has happened to our planet after it came to an abrupt end, so things have stayed in tact quite well over the centuries. Old buildings from years and years ago still stand, and it’s in these buildings I like to poke around and see what I can find. The place I frequent most often is the old school building, a couple miles away from the orphanage.

Whenever I walk through the dusty halls and abandoned classrooms I feel this strange sense of nostalgia wash over me, and I desperately wish I could have had a normal life, attending school and making actual friends. My “brothers” and “sisters” at the orphanage don’t count. I’m not sure what having friends is like, but whatever relationship we happen to share is definitely not that.

It’s on one of these days when I come back from my adventures that everything I knew gets turned upside down. Literally.

There’s a visitor at the orphanage, which rarely ever happens at all. That’s the first sign that something is up. Secondly, and much to my immense shock, this stranger is dressed in the strangest clothing I’ve ever seen, and—there’s color. Some weird hue I’ve never seen before, except maybe reflected in the shadows of my eyes. Purple…that’s what I’ve been told what color my eyes are. Or, at least, dark purple.

The stranger’s eyes light up upon seeing me, and I only have moments to take in his short black hair and healthy skin tone before he grabs my hand and shakes it eagerly.

“You’re Keith, right? Keith Kogane.”

He tells me he wants me to participate in a special project with him. Doesn’t really give any more details than that, even when I ask him who he is or where he comes from. The only thing I manage to get is his name—Shiro. Takashi Shirogane, but his friends call him Shiro. So this guy has friends…

Needless to say I’m skeptical, I mean, who wouldn’t be? This isn’t some sort of fairy tale where I’m the chosen hero who gets tossed into a grand adventure trying to save a princess or some bullshit. This world doesn’t work that way. It’s too dreary and lifeless for something that magical to happen to me of all people.

In the end, though, my curiosity wins over my suspicions, so I eventually decide to go with him.

If this turns out to be some sort of plot to lure me out and kill me, fine. It’s not like I have much to live for, anyway. I’ve just been biding my time until something happens—either I die from some tragic accident or finally get out of that hell house of an orphanage and try to make it on my own.

To my confusion, Shiro takes me to the old school building. A sense of apprehension builds up in my gut, telling me that this might be a murder attempt after all. Should I make a run for it?

“I’ve chosen you because you’re special, Keith,” Shiro explains as we weave our way through the halls, kicking up dust as we go. Oh, great. Not this bullshit again.

“You have an ability that not many other people have. That’s why…” He pauses to let out a soft laugh. “Well, you’ll see in a bit. I don’t want to overwhelm you right away.”

We reach the door to the courtyard, where we come to a halt. I gaze at the taller man curiously, with his sharp eyes and strong jaw, and wonder who the hell he is. Maybe he’s just crazy. Maybe he’s some elite bastard who went off the rails and decided to abduct a teenager to play games with him.

Shiro grabs the handle of the door and pulls, which is obviously stupid because these doors open outward, so you have to push them—

A weird click sounds. Shiro jiggles the door handle and, suddenly, slides the door to the right.

What. The fuck? Since when did it ever do that?

“Alright, here goes.” He gives me a smile and with a final tug, pulls it open.

I step out onto the other side of the courtyard door. What I find there is something that immediately brings me to tears.

More colors than I’ve ever seen before in my life greet my eyes. They bloom and blossom and explode in such a vibrancy that it makes me dizzy, crowding in all around and putting pressure on my skull.

The courtyard is teeming with life—grass sways in the wind, there’s the sound of laughter coming from somewhere off in the distance, and an enormous tree rustles above my head, scattering leaves here and there. I look up and see the sun for the first time, blinding and dazzling, so very bright.

It all sort of happens too quickly for me to process, so after instantaneously bursting into tears, I have to crouch down and bury my face in my knees. It’s too much. Too much information, too many colors I don’t know, it’s so vibrant and beautiful—

“Is that Shiro’s pet project?”

“Hey, n—what did you do to him, Shiro?”

Shiro sounds apologetic and slightly panicked. “I didn’t think—he’s overwhelmed. It’s too much for him to process. I’m sorry, Keith.”

“Aw, the poor thing!”

“Well yeah, if you bring him in from a world with no color to this he’s gonna freak out, dude. Sensory overload, you know?”

“Matt’s gonna kick your ass for this.”

“Keith, are you alright?”

My head is pounding and the world as I know it is swaying in front of my eyes, but I nod. Yes. I’m more than alright, I just—

“Hey, take it easy there, man. It’s a lot to take in, right?”

A voice sounds right next to my ear, melodical and soft. I can’t help but peek through my fingers a little.

Sitting in front of me is the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And maybe that’s biased, coming from me, but it’s the truth. Sun-kissed skin and dark brown hair, a mischievous expression and lanky but strong limbs, and once again the weirdest clothing I’ve ever seen are what makes up this mysterious yet beautiful boy that has come into my midst. And the most astonishing thing of all are his eyes, a couple shades darker than the sky. I don’t know what color they are, but I think it’s my favorite now.

The boy tilts his head and beams at me, flashing a pair of pearly white teeth. Around him his friends all smile down at me, bursting, bursting with color. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more breathtaking.

This is…this is…

“Welcome to our world, Keith!”

This is World’s Variegation.

AND THAT’S IT!! TIED DIMENSIONS :’)

To sum things up: Keith lives in a world after the apocalypse, where there is no life, no meaning, and no color. One day Shiro shows up to the orphanage he lives at and takes him into an alternate dimension through the courtyard door that is teeming with life and color, things Keith’s never seen before, so he sorta has a breakdown and gets suuuuper overwhelmed. Like Lance said. Sensory overload it’s too much for his brain (which usually only sees dark colors and shades of gray) to take haha Keith learns that he is a Traverser, someone who can travel between dimensions, or rather what he calls World’s Terminus and World’s Variegation (I know the definition usually refers to plants, but I mean the definition as in “diversity of colors” so yeah haha). Shiro has chosen him to take part in the TDP, Tied Dimensions Project, which serves as a basis for research on both worlds and their connection to each other. However!! Like all of my AUs there’s a big secret behind the research and exactly why Shiro brought Keith to the other world. Throughout all of this Keith jumps back and forth between the dimensions every day, since he legally still belongs to the orphanage and has to go back. He starts to discover what LIVING really means with the help of all of Shiro’s friends, and starts falling in love with Lance. He gets to experience what the world could have been like if World’s Terminus never happened, and does all these amazing things he would have never even thought to dream of before...

Anyway yeah that’s the AU!! It’s really fun to think about and have Keith experience all these new and exciting things and just get overwhelmed about it all the time but his friends are like “It’s okay, we get it, just take a second to sit down and relax and chill” and it’s. NICE

SO YEAH HOPE YOU ENJOYED //JAZZ HANDS 

#Klance #Voltron #Lance Mcclain #Keith Kogane #VLD #Takashi Shirogane #Voltron Shiro #Voltron Legendary Defender #Long post #Shima writes #Shima's shitty fanfiction #My writing #HERE IT IS!! AAAAAAAA #Tied Dimensions AU #Shima's AUs #I love this one a lot like so so so much #Please be sure to reblog!! I'd appreciate iiiiiit #JUST THE WHOLE IDEA OF A WORLD WITHOUT COLOR AND A WORLD WITH COLOR... #Keith gets sensory overload a LOT in this AU haha #Poor kiddo #Shima arts #shima-draws

[choking-on-tae]

Finally, I’ve found you

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

Word count: 4.2k 

Summary: “The only place a person can see their soulmate is in their dreams. Depending on where each person lives in the world, the dream becomes clearer when both people become closer to each other. What happens when you finally find your soulmate?” 

Genre: Soulmate AU

Ratings: Angst, Fluff. 

Author’s note: I once saw a summing up of what a soulmate AU with Jungkook would be like and got inspired to write this. Gif isn’t mine. x 

As you opened your eyes you saw a playground. It had a couple of swings and a slide, it wasn't that big actually. What caught your eye was a little boy, probably around the age of 5. He looked adorable as he was swinging back and forth. His little hands tightly gripping unto the bars. He was smiling and laughing loudly as he seemed to have the time of his life.

Suddenly everything went black before you arrived somewhere else.

It was the same boy, although now he was older. Maybe around the age of 8? He was walking through a hall which looked oddly familiar to a school hall in his adorable uniform. He had his backpack hugged tightly to him, a little iron man toy sticking out of it. Two other little boys ran past him, pushing him over in the process. You felt bad for the little boy who struggled to get up, quickly grabbing his iron man toy and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Tears prickled down the little boy's face as he finally walked through the doors, exiting the school. You felt your heart melt at the sight. He just looked so cute and you wanted to protect him from the mean boys who pushed him over. His eyes lit up once he saw the beautiful cherry blossoms on his way home. He sat down underneath them as he got out his small sketch book and a pencil.

He leaned against the three as he started sketching. You could see that he was drawing the three, and did a pretty good job at it for someone his age. Whoever this boy is he's just as artistic as you are. He placed the iron man toy beside him as he smiled at the small figure. Showing a cute smile which resembled a bunny in some sort of way. He was very cute.

Suddenly everything went black again, before a new decor appeared.

It was the same boy again, probably around the age of 12 now. He was in what looked like his room. Sketches and drawings everywhere as he was sitting on his bed, eagerly drawing something. You noticed the Iron man collection in the cupboard. He definitely seemed a big fan of superheroes. He still looked cute and passionate. He seemed to really relax when he was drawing, which is something that you experience yourself too.

The cute boy turned his head to his computer where an Anime was playing. You didn't recognize which one but it looked nice. He kept drawing while watching it. This time he decided to draw his famous role model; Iron man. The drawing looked amazing and was very detailed. He was obviously very talented in what he was doing, and he enjoyed watching Anime, something you enjoy doing too. He quietly sang along with the theme song and it sounded surprisingly good. His voice sounds like that of an angel. Wow.

The darkness returned for a moment until you saw the same guy, but this time he was even older. He must be around your age now as he was sitting in a class, painting a portrait of himself. He had sketched himself first with charcoal but now he was painting over it with bright colors. It looked amazing. He must have a major in Arts, considering how good he is. You focused on the guy, since he wasn't a boy anymore. He was slowly becoming a man, a very handsome man to say the least.

Built to perfection, chiseled jawline, strong arms and thighs, fuck he's hot to say the least. A guy who's hot, cute, and creative? Damn that really sounds perfect to you. He seemed so focused on his work. Like he was really caught up in it. It was obvious that being creative was his outlet and it probably helped him a lot too, especially since he got picked on when he was younger.

It got black again before the guy was suddenly standing right in front of you.

This time he looked older, maybe a year of 2. Now you could really take a proper look at him. He looked beautiful yet handsome. Strong yet soft. He was a little taller than you and he seemed a bit shy, yet bold. He looked like the perfect combination of everything. Whoever this is you really wanted to meet him. You reached your hand out to touch him when everything went black again.

You shot up straight in bed, immediately glancing at the clock. It was 10 in the morning. Who was this guy and why were you seeing him in your dreams? Did your mind make up this imaginary person or is this person your soulmate? But it's so clear.. wait.. does that mean your soulmate is here in South Korea?! You think back at the dreams your mom told you about and the ones you read online. Soulmate dreams always go back a long way. It always shows what the person looked like when they were little and then up until how they look now.

Could that mean that this guy is your soulmate? Your thinking gave you a light headache, so you quickly got out, took some medicine and turned your phone back on. You didn't have a lot planned for today, so you decided to just take it easy. You slipped on a pair of skinny jeans, a pink t-shirt and made sure your hair looked okay. You didn't bother to put on some makeup since you didn't really plan on doing a lot today. You quickly made yourself some breakfast before sitting down on the couch and turning the TV on.

The guy was still fresh in your memory. Maybe you can try to draw him, so it won't fade away. You quickly grabbed your sketchbook and pencils before you started to draw. You started with how he looked when he was little. You sketched the playground and drew the little boy that was swinging on the swing. A big smile plastered on his face. It took you about an hour to finish that, which was pretty fast even for you. You smiled happily at the drawing as you laid it down on the table. You quickly ripped off a new piece of paper and started the second drawing.

The cute little boy with his iron man toy, underneath the beautiful cherry blossom. This drawing would be a bit bigger, since it has more details and all of that. If there's one thing in the world that you really love to do is drawing. You absolutely adore it. You really tried to nail all the details and it turned out surprisingly well. The shadows were perfect, it looked insanely realistic. It was almost like you had taken a photo of the screen caption in your dream and put it on paper. You've always been good at drawing but were never able to draw anything so realistically.

As you finished the drawing you placed it next to the other. The boy looked utterly adorable, drawing underneath a tree with the iron man toy next to him. You decided to skip the drawings of the boy in his room and him drawing in his class and went right away to the memory of him standing right in front of you, since you remembered that one the best. You turned the page so you had an empty one and softly started sketching. You really hoped this one would turn out to be just as good as the other ones. You used a lot of different pencils, trying to make it as realistic as possible.

You used another piece of paper to cover your hand so it wouldn't turn grey and you wouldn't smudge it everywhere. As you've learned from experience that happens if you don't do that, and fucking this drawing up was the last thing you want. You really tried to draw it as best as you could, and you were blown away when you finished it. You've drawn a lot of portraits, but they usually weren't that realistic. Sure if you knew the person you'd recognize them but otherwise you probably wouldn't. This one however, this looked fucking amazing!

You had told your cousin about your dream and she immediately asked you to describe what he looked like, so you snapped a photo of your drawing and send it to her. I mean what better way to explain it than to show it, right? You quickly put the pencils back and looked at the drawings that were lying in front of you. You snapped a photo of all three of them together before putting your phone back in your pocket. Is it normal to be this fascinated by a possible soulmate? You shook it off as you grabbed yourself something to drink.

A few hours later you decided to make a quick walk. You were here in Seoul after all might as well make the best out of it, right? Since the weather was nice, you didn't bother to wear a coat and just put on your hoodie. You were walking around for a bit when you felt like someone was following you. You turned around and saw someone with a black hood. Weird? You shrugged it off and continued walking. About a minute later the feeling was still there. As you had made a couple of turns you realized that the person was indeed following you.

You quickly turned around again and started running. You heard the stranger's heavy footsteps which means that they were running too. You saw a 7/11 store and quickly ran in, at least there's people there. The owner looked surprised when you came running in, and you couldn't blame him. You still politely bowed at him as you tried to catch your breath. Suddenly you felt someone taking a hold of your wrist, you wanted to scream but it got caught in your throat when you saw who the person was. He took off his hood and there he was, the guy you saw in your dreams. Another voice interrupted your little intimate stare down.

"119, I'd like to report an emergency."

You two quickly turned to the owner of the shop and you started to explain everything.

"No wait everything is fine! She's my soulmate! I was just trying to catch up with her!" He spoke in a rush. Obviously not wanting to give the owner the wrong idea.

His voice was quite low, but it sounded nice and calming.

"He was. Really it's okay." You assured the owner, who quickly mumbled an apology before hanging up the phone.

You turned back to the guy in front of you. He looked even better in person.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Jungkook." He flashed you a bunny smile as he reached his hand out to you.

You stared at it for a second before you gently shook his hand, giving him a warm smile in return.

"I'm Y/N."

"Y/N, it suits you." "Thank you."

You two kept staring at each other with awkward smiles on your faces, obviously still shocked about what just happened. Is this guy really your soulmate? You wondered as you took in his appearance. He was wearing a pair of black jeans with some holes in it. A white t-shirt and a black hoodie over it. He looked great to say the least. While you were checking him out he did the same to you. Jungkook was completely mesmerized by your beauty and the fact that you were real. He simply couldn't believe that the girl he dreamt about and drew was now standing right in front of him.

He could see you with his own eyes, could touch you, hold you, kiss you. He could do everything he wanted, with your permission of course. The first thing Jungkook did this morning when he woke up was searching his sketchbook and drawing the girl he saw in his dreams. He never had clear dreams. They were always blurry, which assured him that his soulmate was somewhere across the world. He secretly hoped it wouldn't be too far but he didn't come any closer when he went to Japan or Dubai, so he figured it'd be even further than that.

Unlike you, Jungkook had always been obsessed with the idea of having a soulmate. His parents told him about it when he was a little boy. As seen in your dreams he got picked on when he was younger. He'd always come home crying, and his parents tried everything to cheer him up. They bought him his favorite candy, his favorite toys and even took him to theme parks he always wanted to go to, but nothing could make the sad little boy feel better. At least until his aunt mentioned soulmates.

Being curious at heart, little Jungkook wanted to know more about this, so his mother explained everything to him. She told him about soulmate dreams and that the clarity of your dream depends on how far your soulmate is away from you. Considering his dreams had always been blurry, his parents figured that his soulmate would be across the world. The possibility that the little boy had a soulmate that was made just for him, that would fit perfectly with him and would love him no matter what made him smile again.

His parents couldn't be happier that their son finally had a reason to smile again. Thinking about his soulmate made little Jungkook stronger. Instead of ignoring the bullies like he used to do, he spoke up to them. He figured that he'd make his soulmate proud if he did that. It ended the bullying, which he was really happy with. His parents saw a total new side of their son, and they couldn't be happier with that. Looking back at it they should have told him much sooner, but they weren't sure how to address the topic. Luckily for them his aunt did that for them.

Over the years Jungkook kept being fascinated by his soulmate, although he knew absolutely nothing about them. He didn't know their gender, their nationality, absolutely nothing. He found himself drawing random people, thinking about what his soulmate possibly could look like. When Jungkook was on vacation in Dubai he was disappointing when the dreams were still really blurry. So he figured his soulmate was even further than that. He and his cousin talked about going on a trip to Europe. His cousin has already met his soulmate and they've been dating for 3 years now.

He knew how much Jungkook's soulmate meant to him so he agreed on the plan. All there was left to do was save some money and buy the tickets. However, none of that is needed anymore since he just found his soulmate. He couldn't wait to tell his cousin about this.

"How long are you staying here?" He asked out of nowhere.

You were surprised by his question, but you figured he knew that you were from across the world and that you weren't staying here forever.

"I'm leaving in a little over 3 weeks, unfortunately, because so far I really like it here in Seoul." You answered him with a bright smile.

"I know this might sound a bit crazy but do you wanna go to my place? I've this little studio here in Seoul and it's not too far from here."

"Sure. Let's go." You smiled at him.

He instantly took your hand as you exited the store and walked down the quiet streets of Seoul. In any other world this would have been absolutely crazy; going home with a stranger. But this stranger is your soulmate, so you could trust him. The feeling of his hand in his made you really comfortable. Your hand fit perfectly in his, like you two were made for each other, which you technically were.

"Where are you from actually?" He asked, holding your hand tighter as he sped up his pace.

It was starting to get dark already, which was in contrast with yesterday. It's about dinner time now and it's already getting dark while yesterday it didn't get dark until 8 pm.

"I'm from (Your country)." You answered, wrapping your other hand around his arm as you nuzzled closer to him.

You felt strangely comfortable around him even though you just met. Maybe it was the soulmate thing after all. Jungkook didn't seem weirded out by it at all, in fact he seemed more than happy with the sweet gesture and you clinging unto him. He thought you were very cute when he first laid eyes on you, and this only proved his point.

"That's pretty far. I figured you were from around there since my dreams didn't get any clearer when I was in Dubai. My cousin and I were planning on making a trip to Europe actually." He spoke in a calm voice as he searched his pockets for his keys.

"Really?" You didn't even try to hide the surprise in your voice, which made your voice come out really high pitch.

You instantly felt your cheeks turning pink, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing but Jeongguk actually thought that it was really cute. He opened the door and let you in first, being a real gentleman. As you looked around the apartment you noticed the home-like feel it had. You could live here actually. You instantly took off your shoes as you walked around. Jeongguk did the same as he followed closely behind you. Suddenly something caught your eye. As you looked at the salon table you noticed a sketch book and some drawings.

"What's that?" You asked, not waiting for an answer you walked over and felt your eyes grow wide when your saw the drawings.

"Euhm.. I dreamt about you last night and I didn't want to fade the memory so I drew you. It's not that good really but yeah, that's you." He answered, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Oh my god." You quickly opened your backpack to grab the drawings that you made of him and put them on the table. He instantly sat down next to you, gently taking some of the drawings in his hands.

"Wow. These are so detailed." Jungkook flashed you a shy smile as he studied the drawings more.

"So are yours. You're really talented." "So are you!"

You shyly tugged a stray of hair behind your ear as you looked back at his drawings of you. You were completely mesmerized by them. You have never considered yourself as 'pretty' but you might consider it now judging by his drawings of you. It looks so realistic but really beautiful at the same time. You definitely recognized yourself, that was for sure.

"I think I know why we're soulmates." You mumbled as you placed his drawings back on the salon table, where they were.

"I think so too." He smiled fondly at you, before turning to the kitchen.

"Uh do you wanna drink something? Or eat something maybe, since it's dinner time."

You could definitely tell that he was nervous and shy, just like you. He was a combination of both shy and bold, exactly like you are. You have your moments just like he probably has his. This could actually work.

"Can I have some water? And do you have anything to eat here?" You asked, getting your phone out as you heard a message coming in.

"We can order pizza. Do you like pineapple on it?" "Yes."

"Great. I'll order us pizza then." He gave you that shy smile again before dialing the number and ordering the food.

Jungkook came back with your water as he sat down next to you, making you feel comfortable again. His cologne was strong but not too, you found yourself really liking the smell of it.

"I texted my family and cousin that I met you. Can’t wait for their reactions" He told you with a bright smile as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

He clearly was getting more comfortable around you, and you absolutely loved it. You felt like you could be comfortable around him too, and you were. You found yourself staring into Jungkook's beautiful dark brown doe eyes a lot, which didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Am I that handsome that you can't look away?" He asked with a smug smirk showcasing on his face.

You were surprised by his cockiness, but it made you smile nonetheless.

"I just really like your eyes. They're so big and cute. It makes you look like an adorable puppy."

He chuckled at your words before throwing his head back in laughter. His laugh sounded like music to your ears, and you found yourself slowly falling for the brown haired boy next to you.

"I really like your eyes too. They're a really pretty color. I've never seen eyes like yours, they've very unique."

You felt yourself blushing furiously at his compliment as you hid your face behind your hands, making him laugh. He welcomed it by pressing a kiss to your head as you saw Jungkook smiling fondly at you. Oh how you were falling for this boy. Little did you know that he was falling just as hard for you.

"What brought you to South Korea?" His voice broke the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you.

"It's quite a long story actually." You mumbled, gripping unto his shirt as you nuzzled your head against his strong chest.

"We still have some time before the pizza arrives." He told you as he wrapped one arm around you and ran his fingers through your hair with his other hand that wasn't tracing patterns on your side.

"Okay, uhm. I don't really know how to say this so I'm just gonna do it."

"It's okay, you can tell me. I'm here." He assured you, which instantly made you feel a bit better.

"I've had quite a rough time the past few years. I've been really depressed, suicidal even and went into therapy. My psychologist told me that it's something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life. Of course it won't be as bad as it used to be but I'll definitely have days where I'll just feel very down."

"Wow."

He stayed quiet for a few seconds, which really worried you.

"Jungkook?"

"How are you now? Is that why you decided to come here? To travel and find out more about yourself?" He asked as he made you look him.

You quickly nodded at him as you clutched his t-shirt tightly in your fist.

"Yeah. I came here all by myself because that's something I've always wanted to do. I didn't expect to find you here. I know this is a lot to take in and that I've a lot of issues. I'm not asking you to be there for me when I need someone but-"

"-Why wouldn't I be there for you when you need someone? I'm your soulmate and I really like you." He interrupted you.

His words made you tear up a bit, which didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Hey it's okay. I'm here for you Y/N."

You tightly wrapped your arms around him as he rested his chin on top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you too, making you feel safe. Your intimate moment was interrupted by the doorbell. Signing the arrival of the pizza. He gently brushed your hair out of your face before pressing a kiss against your nose.

"I got to open the door baby. I'll be back."

You nodded at his words, letting him get up when you realized that he called you 'baby'. You felt your cheeks heat up and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Jungkook quickly opened the door, gave the pizza guy the money before closing the door again and placing the pizza on the salon table in front of you. It looked absolutely delicious to say the least, and it smelled delicious too.

"Oh my god that smells so good." You practically moaned as you grabbed a slice.

He watched you with a bright smile before taking a slice himself. You both took a bite at the same time, letting the delicious flavors erupt into your mouth. "Oh wow."

He smiled at your reaction as he took another bite himself.

"It's good right?"

"So good."

You two finished the pizza in no time, being quite hungry after all. You spend the rest of the night talking to each other about your lives and issues. Jungkook seemed surprisingly okay with your mental issues. He accepts that sometimes you'll have days where you'll feel worse than others, and days where you're totally fine. He said that he wants to be there for you, even though you'll be on the other side of the world.

You glance at the clock that was hanging in his living room and felt your eyes growing wide when you saw how late it was. It was already 11 pm and pitch black outside, fuck.

"Oh my god it's so late. I-I should go back." You quickly got up only to be pulled back again by Jungkook.

You ended up on his lap, your back pressed against his chest.

"It's 11 pm. It's probably better if you stay the night here and go back tomorrow. There's no way I'm letting you go outside when it's this dark." He said, wrapping his arms around you to prove his point.

"I don't have anything here."

"I've a spare toothbrush and you can use my charger to charge your phone. You can wear one of my shirts to bed, since they'll probably be big on you."

"Are you sure?" "Yes. I insist."

"Okay."

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeongguk #bts jeongguk #bts fluff #bts angst #bangtan fluff #bangtan angst #bts scenarios #bangtan scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #jungkook one shots #bts one shots #angst #fluff #bts au #bts soulmate au #jungkook soulmate au #soulmate au #bangtan au #jeongguk scenarios #jeongguk fluff #jeongguk angst #jeongguk one shots

[thinkingaboutsanfrancisco]

Friday April 17th, 2015

If someone would've told me two hours ago that I'd be in the city tonight, much less standing in this fucking park again, I think I would've burned them with my cigarette. 

Now that I've been revived by the kinetic energy of lucrative prospects and perhaps a runner's high from racing through the Embarcadero, I can reflect with amusement on my situation's irony instead of wallowing in the curse of it. Obviously I'm here, it's Friday night. Where the fuck else would I be? Making ends meet with my measly retail job where I walk away with $40 at the end of the night? Please. The earnings I can accumulate for one night of transactions wipe out what I gross in a bi-weekly paycheck in that store, it'd be laughable to acquire that lousy shift...especially when I've picked up four there this week already. Shouldn't I be resting instead since I'm so fucking tired? Fuck that. Since being on the other side of the door, I've been blessed with the clarity to realize that genuine sound rest for anyone in our apartment on a Friday night is ultimately futile, and fuck was I finding myself miserable for trying. While my body might've been wasting away on a bed or a couch, there's no way I would constitute the only other thing I've done this week as "rest". Not with the perpetual nausea in my stomach that kept churning from my mind's rotten, embarrassing, reruns that recommenced to torture me without mercy despite how I thought that I'd charred their disgusting instigator to oblivion the last time I was here. It should've been over because it was over to me and it didn't go catastrophically as I'd feared, yet that awful remnant lingered within me like a bitter taste in my mouth and nothing I could conjure up to distract myself was able to fully abolish the feeling. She may be naive that I ruined our friendship but it doesn’t matter, because I ruined our friendship and the only thing that could ever heal my festering regret is time and all I'm left to do is live with my stupid fucking self while I wait it out, which I know I can do. I've carried the burden of  far worse guilt before. I'll live.

Five days of on running the worst fucking sleep I've had in two years, however, and whatever remained of my already fraying wit's end was deteriorating to its' last fragile fibers. I didn't want to do a single. goddamn. thing. Taking a couple of steps in our kitchen to open up the freezer, ripping open the bothersome box and pesky packaging, and putting a pepperoni Hot Pocket in the microwave so I could force myself to eat was as laborious as I wanted to get tonight and, while I slumped on the counter with my hand in my palm and waited for that unnecessary ding to inform me of what I was already anticipating, my exhausted frustration provoked me to make a spiel of decisions to ensure that: fuck studying, fuck avoiding texting Ray back, fuck waiting up for my dad, and, most unusual of them all, fuck Natalia. Most of the time I value her consistency, but I dreaded her then-impending text from the second I got back in from school because I was not in the mood to accommodate her pain in the ass schedule tonight, $300 be damned. She always wants an 8-ball before her shift and another when she gets off at one and there was no way in hell I could foresee myself having any ability to hang around Downtown for four fucking hours tonight. It was going to conflict with my Trazadone swiping plans, the enticement of which began to surge when I opened my burner and realized that I was going to have to deny my best customer. I hadn't received her usual request yet, but it was rapidly approaching nine and I was hoping that by intercepting her and initiating word of my very important schedule conflict, she'd be less pissed at my inability to show and not discredit and discard me like she did her other blow-off dealer. Yeah, the money always matters, but the price of my reputation is far more invaluable. 

The weight of that knowledge slowed my usual punctual thumbs as I evaluated the brief sentences and consolation with more acuity than I typically reserve for my English essays. If there's one principal lesson I've learned in the last week, it's not to text the first thing that's on my mind...especially when it wasn't in the right place to begin with. 

And thank the fucking Lord for that.

Because right when I was in the middle of selfishly setting us up for losing $300, fate buzzed me into my fucking senses and about gave me a heart attack in the process when I registered who the fuck was calling me.

S.

I don't think I've ever picked up the phone and put it up to my ear as rapidly as I did then and it wasn't because I was eager to talk to him. Fuck, if I would've been presented with the question via text that he wound up asking me, maintaining my assurance would've been the easiest thing I've ever done and there's no fucking way I would be standing here but he called me and he never has fucking called me. There's never been a reason for him to and I've never wanted him to because surely it was going to be serious and my mind raced through a white flash of fragmented worst-case scenarios. What the fuck did I fucking do? I stammered out the first word of that question twice before I realized that I was revealing the pure panic in my voice and I had to put a fucking end to it. He demands to know if I'm busy, which I wasn't anymore since everything suddenly got rendered irrelevant by his boisterous, jovial volume that thawed the ice of my fear into cautious curiosity as I started to perceive that this call was more irrelevant to the state of my existence than I thought... 

“I wanna go fucking clubbing, J. You wanna go clubbing?! Let’s go clubbing! I ONLY WANT TO GO IF YOU COME WITH.”

Or could've ever considered because what the fuck? No?!  Why the fuck would I go clubbing with him?! I don't fucking "club"! What in the everloving fuck possessed him to think that I do? Especially since he already convinced himself that I'm a teenage virgin who's never experienced delights or tragedies of love without me implicating anything explicit to give that impression away or indulge him in it being correct. Now five days later he’s deemed me suitable enough for his clubbing roster? Ridiculous.

So I started to express my disinterest...until he said something that made every part of my broken mind click back into the proper, functioning, place...  

“Come on, J…there’s money in it for you.”

Remembering how stunned I was upon hearing it sends me into a chuckle because it's so crystal clear to me now, but upon hearing it I had to work myself through the entire thought process as if I'd returned to Kindergarten and was introduced to the concept of the sum of one plus two equates to three.  Of course, that's why S he asked me to go with him. Night clubs and the loosened inhibitions of their clientele are rampant for an opportunity. Granted, it's one I've never considered to take up on because the loose lips of those fiending in the alleyways outside of them after hours were enough to sustain my immediate needs and, frankly, is more apt for my style. No matter what you're trying to sell, whether it be the commerce of cocaine or cars, your chances of successfully convincing a customer of purchasing it increase substantially when you locate one aspect of them to relate to and use it as a driving force. Developing a niche is the proper term for it and my niche is desperation. I'm always desperate. I'm desperate for cash, I'm desperate for success, I'm desperate for a future, I'm desperate for freedom, I'm desperate for safety, I'm desperate for love...fuck, I'm desperate for about everything besides for actual fucking cocaine. I understand what it's like to feel hopeless on these San Francisco streets, searching for that special someone who can swoop in and deliver that sweet salvation and can satisfy what their heart craves and I'm thrilled when, instead of another suffering martyr, I can be a savior. 

Like S was for me.

If it weren't for when he agreed to supply for me back in February, that might've been the most important sentence he's ever spoken to me because it's exactly the reminder I needed to hear. My entire move wasn't about making friends or an honest attempt at living or doing as perfectly as I can in school to keep up a GPA that isn't at all an accurate representation of my deteriorating intellect, it was about developing my own contacts and bringing in my own contributions—as legal or "unconventional" as they may be—for our survival and if I was that fucked up by some privileged British girl who would drop me so fucking quick if she found out how abhorrent my real reasons for being in this city are, then Lance Kelley should keep himself awake all night worrying about me because there is no way in hell I can afford to be that weak out here. 

And I'm not going to be. 

Certainly not when there's this thudding bass alerting me of that familiar black Altima's arrival. I never thought I'd be so relieved to see that car, but it's not so bad now that I don't have to display all of my personal belongings onto its roof. Now that I think of it, S hasn't entertained me with his little game in a while...

Taking a long drag of my Parliament because I'm sensing it's going to be the last one I'll be able to do silently for a while, I watch as S puts the car in park and proves me right when he jumps out and greets me with a name I haven't heard in a while.

“JAMES DEAN! How’s it going?!”

While I roll my eyes at it because I still don't get what he sees in that comparison, it's so stupidly cheerful that I can't resist a chuckle.

Damn, he's really happy to see me isn't he?

My rhetorical question resolves itself when I see color and animation thriving in his face as he exclaims how great I look and...surprisingly, he's not bullshitting me. I was fully prepared for S to call me out on being such a teenager that I had to rummage through my dad's closet and steal one of his button-up dress shirts, after all it is the honest-to-God truth since I didn't own one this nice looking myself, yet he refrained and I'm able to settle into a satisfied grin, "Well I’ve found that nice opportunities are more likely to present themselves to the presentable so... thanks. Glad to see you’re looking better too."

Seriously, he's in a refreshing return to form and it's obvious that the source of his rejuvenation has to be something far greater than merely my outfit. Pregaming, probably, but I don't care because he’s a far cry from the shattered soul I physically left sitting on that bench on Sunday night, yet who kept finding a way to agonize me mentally on the train ride back to Bayview. I wished I could’ve left him under a more imminently optimistic note but rushing his grieving process would’ve only delayed things for him in the long run and I’d truly delivered as much as I could for one night. Again, adequate time’s the only thing that could heal those wounds and watching him believe my compliment in this park only less than a week later is rewarding. The healing process can be a bitch and I’m happy it’s already starting to work out for him. 

I can't wait for it to start working out for me too.

Tired of standing in this same spot, I take a few steps forward to the passenger's side of his car and lean against the door, tucking one of my arms underneath the one staunchly propping up my Parliament. 

"Alright, so where is it? I’m not going anywhere until I see exactly what’s in store for me tonight.” 

#/ilostmyheartandmymind #the bros #04172015