#my main issue with it had always been its paint and now its paint is just fucking spectacular

[chisatowo]

The grizzco splatana <33333

#rat rambles #splat posting #Im going to absolutely suck ass with it Im sure but Im still excited #bestie is gonna fucking evaporate cohozuna like holy shit #and it pierces armor too like??? its like the grizzco sloshet but probably easier to pick up #not easy mind you but easier #also rip to the big swig that kit fucking sucks bro #and it honestly looks a lil pathetic in general? I imagine itll have to more so play to poke rather than go full murder #which if thats what theyre going fot then maybe tjats why they pyt wall and vac on it but I still dont thing thatll work out for it well #oh also the wiper buff is so fucking cool I might try picking it up again tbh #my main issue with it had always been its paint and now its paint is just fucking spectacular #also the new big run songggggggg god it bangs so hard #already seeing ppl complaining abt it too as Im sure ppl will always do with new salmon run music til the end of time djdjgskdh #also Im gonna need to check a bunch of song names now that we have them I love the idea of the song credits at the opening of a battle #anyways if anyone would wanna play salmon run with me hmu Im gonna be trying to get back on the grind leading up to this grizzco weekend #and also big run ofc #also for marooners bay or whatever its called welcome back worstie Im sure Ill want you as dead as in 2 <3333 #I just want her back (arc polaris) #but yeah the grizzco splatana isnt wjat I was expecting it to be but Im not complaining #I was expecting a faster splatana but I got the pathetic range right at least fudjdhdkh

[thetriumphantpanda]

Scandal-Hit Princess

One Day I'll Fly Away - Chapter One

Chapter Summary | A scandal-hit Princess, ink barely dried on the divorce papers and a lone rancher with no interest in the inevitable media storm following her meet for the first time - it’s a recipe for disaster, right?

Word Count | 2.6K

Pairing | Joel Miller x Princess F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | foul language, descriptions and mentions of divorce and infidelity, Joel being a rancher and kinda aloof and unbothered, mentions of body image issues and stress, mentions of the British royal family, no-outbreak AU, no use of y/n, smut in future chapters but nothing else at this point.

Authors Note | Well, here she is - Miss Scandal is ready to meet you all! This has been such a labour of love for me already and I cannot tell you how excited I am to bring you this story. It’s different, but I love it, and I hope you will too! As always, thank you to @undercoverpena and @hellishjoel who have been on the receiving end of so much shouting and screaming about this! Please, if you do enjoy this, consider leaving a comment or reblogging - I will love you all forever! And you can support me further by donating to my Kofi account if you want to.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Kofi | Series Playlist

Rage is the only thing you really feel anymore. The feeling of betrayal, that’s gone. The feeling of sadness at losing the life you had, that’s also gone.The only thing that remains is the rage, bubbling slowly under your skin. You’ve been sitting in it for six months now, sitting with the injustice of it all, how someone had taken one singular conversation and flipped it on its head. The more you think about it, the more you can understand the conclusion everyone had come to, especially when the man wearing the crown had spun the story to suit him, his family, and his fucking son. Traitors, the fucking lot of them.

It hadn’t always been bad. You wouldn’t have said yes to the wedding if it had, regardless of how big the ring had been. He’d been sweet, charming, and despite the fact that your family came from money, he’d given you a life you could only have dreamed of. Sure, the endless flying around the world to shake a few hands and stand for a few photos, tilt your head down and look placid when you talked to anyone, took flowers from children and gripped the arms of people in distress, that all got tiring, but the fairytale had been all worth it really, until it hadn’t.

When the papers became more interested in who made your clothes, or the fact that the colour you’d worn didn’t suit you, or worse, sent some kind of subliminal message, or why the angle of the camera made you look pregnant when you weren’t, or how there must have been an argument between you and your husband because you hadn’t looked at him for the entire time you’d been at the ballet one time. When the focus shifted from what you were trying to do - shine a light on suffering or simply cheer people up by your presence, to trying to find fault in every single thing you ever did, that’s when you started to wonder whether it was all worth it.

Then came the control. The rules. Don’t eat that. Don’t wear that. Don’t paint your nails that colour. Don’t say this. Don’t stand like that. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. And it never seemed to matter how much good you did, how many initiatives you visited or how many sick people’s bedsides you sat next to , someone always had something to pick on. You could be the strongest person on earth, but the more someone picks away, the harder it gets to be yourself. But then, that’s what they wanted wasn’t it? Take the ideal woman on paper and grind her down until she was the ideal woman in real life - someone who kept her real thoughts to herself, behaved properly and didn’t rock the boat.

It strikes you now, in the solitude of this hotel room, that by trying to mould you into that person, you became the very thing they were terrified of all along. Someone who didn’t just rock the boat, but well and truly capsized it. It’s something of a comfort really, sat in this room like a prison, a nice and comfortable prison, but a prison none-the-less, that all it took was one woman who’d had enough to start tearing the family down from the inside. And it’s not like you’d really tried that hard to do it anyway - it hadn’t even been your intention. It just so happened that you’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time and someone had twisted your words - and his - to mean something they absolutely were not. If it hadn't been for what it had cost you, a one way ticket to the middle of nowhere and a reputation in tatters, you might find all this quite funny, but alas, there was nothing about this exile - or rather banishment - that was funny rot you right now.

You slam the magazine you’ve been trying to read down on your lap in frustration. The heat in this place is fucking stifling. Who the fuck suggested Texas as a good idea? Sure, it’s a world away from where you’d just come from, and for now, the press, obsessed with you since day one, hadn’t quite figured out where you were yet, but it was only a matter of time really. Someone would tip them off for a hefty sum, poor Nancy and her hotel would be swarmed and it would be up and on to the next place to try and lie low. You’re bored and bored is dangerous.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, stretching out your back before you stand, slip your shoes on and open the door. You look up and down the hall, quiet, no sign of Rob, head of the security detail you’d been given following your divorce. It would have been nice of them if it hadn’t been a way to keep an eye on you. You knew Rob was giving updates to the people back at home.

You lightly pad down the hallway once the door to your room is closed, taking the steps down to the reception quickly, stepping on your tiptoes until your hand traces over the front reception desk, Nancy immediately looking up from her papers.

“Your Highness.” Has become the greeting, with a slight curtsey, it’s wrong, but it doesn’t really matter anymore does it?

“Can I get you anything?”

You smile at her, leaning your elbows on the reception desk, cheek resting on one of your palms.

“Well, Nancy, I’d love some of those peaches from a few days ago, do you still have any?”

You watch as her expression drops, her skin tone draining like she’d made the biggest faux pas possible.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” She gasps, “You liked ‘em so much we used ‘em all making dessert for tonight.”

“Sounds delicious,” You smile, big and broad, charming, “What are we having?”

“My famous peach pie,” Nancy taps the side of her nose, “My mama’s recipe.”

“With ice cream?” You ask, adding a wink at the end.

“Anything for you,” Then she adds, “I can send out for more peaches if you’d like them.”

You think for a moment, because they really are delicious, especially warmed from the sun where they’ve just been freshly picked, “Where do you get them?”

“Oh, at the Miller ranch, it’s a little way out of town, but he’s famous for them.”

“You know, I might go and get them myself.”

Joel Miller scoffs into his coffee as his eyes scan the front page of the newspaper. Scandal-hit Princess in USA. He knew she was here. The town was abuzz with gossip that Nancy, owner of the nicest, fanciest hotel in town, was hosting her. Cleared out the entire top floor of rooms just for her. Restaurant closed whenever she wanted to eat. Someone had driven up to his ranch three days ago, asked for a boxes of peaches for her. Her favourite fruit apparently. He’d handed them over without much thought, asked for the usual price and then found himself with a very generous tip, folded into the back pocket of his jeans. He looks at the grainy photograph on the front page, taken through the window of the hotel, Princess sitting pretty, head down looking at the table. The photo is grainy, definitely not the best paparazzi work he’s seen splashed across the front page, but it’s enough to see her hand on the back of her neck and the hunch of her shoulders, trying to make herself look smaller than she is.

It’s a far cry from the woman he’d seen on the TV two years ago. It had been madness in his mind, that the entire world had ground to a halt to watch two people get married. Sarah had insisted that they all sit and watch it together, and he had thought Ellie would have his back, but she was just as enthralled watching her walk down the aisle. Weirdly, he remembers the dress, the white tulle, short lace sleeves, something sparkly peppered through the material, catching the light when she walks. But what he remembers more than anything, is her smile. The way she beamed when she was handed over, hand slipped into her soon-to-be husbands. It’s strange that divorce touches everyone, and no matter how big you smile, it’s always hiding something under the surface.

He looks briefly to his watch, realising he’s late for feeding and those sheep are going to give him hell if he doesn’t feed them soon. He downs the rest of his coffee, shoves the newspaper into the recycling box, he doesn’t really read it anyway, even when the news isn’t splashed from cover to cover with gossip about what that damn princess did or didn’t do, so he’s definitely not going to indulge it now, and then he’s out into the truck and heading down to the barn to stock up on feed.

It’s a strange world to him, this ranch life. For as long as he could remember he’s wanted to do it. Maybe it’s the solitude it offers him, the way he can finally think for himself after years of raising his daughters. Maybe it’s the way that unlike his daughters, his flock of sheep tend to do what they’re told, unless it’s this morning and he’s twenty minutes late to feed them, then they’d gather around his legs, bleating senselessly until he drops their feed onto the ground to appease them. What he really thinks is that it gives him a purpose. He grows fruit, peaches mainly, but a few other crops, that he gives to Nancy down at the hotel, or offers to Steven who owns the bakery, fruit that feeds his community. He shears his sheep, gives their wool to Betty and Ines to make clothes with. Sat out here, on the fringes of town, with more land and space than he knows what to do with, an empty house no longer filled with his daughters, this place gives him a reason to get up each morning. They all need him in some small way.

Once he’s finished with his morning chores - feeding the sheep, plucking the ripe peaches from his trees into crates, fixing up some of the fences that a few of the more boisterous sheep had knocked over and serviced the small tractor in the barn - he jumps back in his truck, the warm Austin sun, blazing at midday, licking at his skin, bringing sweat beading across his body, and goes back to the house. He’s just stepping out of the truck, rubbing his dirty hands with a rag from his back pocket, wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, when he notices a car pulling in to the bottom of his driveway, driving slowly up to come to a stop at the front porch of his house.

As he rounds his truck, he can see that the car is nicer than anything he’s ever seen in town. Sleek black, clean as a whistle, windows dark so he can’t see into them. It sits idling on his driveway until he climbs the steps at the back of the house, rounds the porch and stands at the top of the steps, leaning against the side of the stairs, fingers looped in one of his belt loops.

The front passenger door opens and bulking man gets out, sunglasses over his eyes, black t-shirt and jeans and a bald head. He nods at Joel, one of those classic nods that men understand when they give each other, then he opens the back door wide. Joel sees one leg step out of the car, then another, long, loose-fitting white trousers, then the rest of the body comes into view. He can’t quite believe it when he realises the person standing in front of him, pushing her sunglasses onto her head so she can look right at him, is the same person from the front page of the newspaper. The People’s Princess herself.

“Joel Miller?” She asks, voice sweet, lilting, as she holds out her hand for him to shake when she’s stood close enough to him.

He looks down at her hand - perfectly manicured, soft, by the looks of things, never seen a day of work in their lives - then looks at his, bigger, covered in filth, hard and calloused, definitely not the kind of hand she wants to be shaking. He thinks this must be muscle memory for her, the only work she knows how to do is hold out her hand and talk nice to people.

“I gotta bow or somethin’?’

She smirks at him, drops her hand, “I don’t think that’s necessary these days.”

“Can I help you?”

“Well,” She starts, voice sweet and peppy enough to start to annoy him, “I’ve been eating these peaches since I got here, the sweetest, juiciest I’ve ever eaten, and we’ve run out,” She brings a foot up to rest on the bottom step, Joel immediately stepping forward to stop her coming any closer into his bubble, “And I’ve been told you grow them, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well,” She tilts her head, “Might I buy some more?”

“How many d’ya want?”

“A crate, please, if you have enough to spare.”

Joel spins on his feet, takes heavy footsteps back around the house to his truck, picks up the crate of peaches he just picked, the one with the most fruit in it and makes his way back to the front of the house where the Princess is still waiting.

He offers her the crate, holding it out in his hands. He watches as she turns to the man who opened her door for her, nods her head towards the crate, watches as he takes it from Joel. She stands up on her tiptoes as the crate passes her, plucks one of the peaches from the top.

She looks at Joel, right in his eyes as she bites into the fruit, obscene slurping sound in the air as she sucks the juice into her mouth, bringing a finger up to catch the drops that fall onto her chin, making sure she doesn’t drip it onto her pristine white suit.

“How do you grow them to be so perfect?” She asks, taking another bite from her peach, teeth dragging through the delicate skin.

“Plenty of sun,” Joel shrugs, “Good soil.”

She hums, nods her head in agreement, “Well, thank you for these,” She turns back to the man who has just put the crate in the boot of the car, nodding at him, “I’m sure I’ll be back for more.”

The man offers Joel some money, enough for at least three crates of peaches, but he finds he doesn’t argue, takes it like he did the first lot, slips it into his back pocket. He doesn’t wait for the car to leave, just turns on his heel, heads into his home, praying that her promise to come back was an empty one - if there’s one thing that Joel needs less than a hole in the head right now, it’s a hoity Princess sniffing around.

#Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x F!Reader #Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou smut #Joel Miller tlou #Joel tlou #Joel Miller the last of us #ODIFA #Pedro pascal #Joel miller Pedro pascal

[starry-eyes-love]

Marriage Dynamics- Relaxin' is Hard Work

Main Masterlist    Series Masterlist 

Pairings: Husband Joel Miller x F!Reader (18+ Minors DNI) AU, No outbreak

Summary | Joel takes the day off to spend it with you. You take him to a salon for a couples pedicure and massage, but somehow your wires get crossed and instead of spending the afternoon relaxing, you spend the afternoon working on improving communication in your marriage. Reader mentions she's pregnant, but is too scared to admit it to her husband. Joel eventually figures it out.

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI. Husband and wife marriage dynamics, age gap (he's 52 and she's 37), language, light smut (reader gets handsy in public), Joel whimpers at her touching him (it needs its own warning), arguments with angst at times, reader berates herself, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, reader over thinks things (a lot), terms of endearment used (baby, babe, honey, mama, Angel, etc.), slight flirtatious behavior (what can I say, Joel loves his wife), Joel tickles his wife (it needs its own warning), fluffy parts sprinkled in here and there, reference and descriptions of pregnancy, references to unplanned pregnancy, female reader briefly mentions past abuse with father (yet no in-depth specifics are given), mentions of body issues and body descriptions, mentions of feeling ill (female reader gets sick and vomits in garbage can). Think I got them all. Enjoy :)

Word Count:  6.1k

“Ok sexy mama, I'll get my toes painted” he commented, while reaching down and tickling your belly to hear you laugh some more. You started squealing and squirming as he tickled your stomach, a ticklish spot you had. Joel loved to hear you squeal and break out in a fit of laughter. The more he heard it the more his heart swelled large in his chest and the tighter his pants got in the front. It had been a long time since…

Joel stood there next to you at the counter glancing over all the items that were there, thinking to himself, why do I get myself in these predicaments with her? Here he was taking the day off from work to spend it with you, something that doesn't happen very often. You promised him a fun, relaxing day together. However, as he watched you pay for a couples massage and pedicure, he thought this is not my idea of fun nor relaxin’.  

Earlier that Day

"Darlin', I'm not sure about this," he said as you pulled up to the salon.

"Come on Joel, you're always griping about how your back and feet hurt. Now you can take care of them," you replied while parking the car.

You watched him rub the back of his neck awkwardly saying "I know baby, but me, a pedicure? I mean come on, I thought we were gonna do something fun.”

"Joel, you're gonna love it, trust me.” 

Joel just glared at you as he slowly ground his teeth while releasing a long exhale. He was trying to figure out how he could get out of doing this.

“Babe, you'll really relax doing this.” You said, trying to get him to see reason.

“No I won't Angel. This-” Joel said, waving his hand towards the salon, “is just plain silly. Sure for you it's fun and relaxin’, but for me, it's just silly. If the guys at the construction site ever saw this-”

“The guys at the construction site, is that what you're really concerned about? The guys?”

“Babe, you don't understand.”

“Yeah I get it Joel. God forbid you spend a day with your wife doing something relaxing. How embarrassing that would be for you.”  You replied, letting anger seep into your words.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh saying “Nevermind, ya don't understand.”

You instantly felt a sting of jealousy at his concern, that being seen with his wife would cause him extreme discomfort.  Joel hardly saw you anymore, and he never had a problem doing this stuff with you in the past. In a defeated tone you said, “Fine Joel, I get it. This is silly. But babe, we don't get to spend any time together.”

“And you thought that this was the best way to do it? A damn pedicure? Where the hell does this say ‘Joel Miller would love this,’ huh?” You watched him shake his head and look out the passenger window frustrated.

You felt your internal walls go up, wanting to shut down. To close yourself off from people who hurt you. You wanted to retreat back into the darkness of your mind, not allow anyone in again. You've struggled in life for far too long with this concept of not allowing others in. Joel was the only man who could break down those walls, and now you were struggling not to push him out.

In the past Joel used to do fun little things like this with you, even if they were silly. Hell, he was the first person to introduce you to the world of pedicures and massages when he dated you. It was the best activity the two of you could do with his young preteen daughter when he couldn't find a babysitter. You never minded back then as you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend. You remember one time you were a little hesitant and Joel eased your nerves by saying ‘Come on darlin.' It doesn't matter what the guys at the construction site or anyone else says. I wanna spend time with you. I know this seems silly, but it'll be relaxin’. I can promise you that, so trust me.’ You found yourself repeating those exact same words to Joel now, begging with your eyes for him to remember.

“Honey, that's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard as to why we should do this. Whoever said that to you was a liar and an idiot” he told you, shaking his head and laughing hard. You quickly looked away and felt the red hot burn in the back of your throat start. He didn't remember his time with you. 

Joel had hardly been home for the past year. His business, Miller Contracting, signed the biggest contract in history about a year ago out of town. Joel was making a large amount of money, his business skyrocketing almost overnight after years of struggle. You, being his wife, were so proud of him, for his ability to never have to struggle with his business again. He had work lined up for the next 3 years for this big development company, and then he just recently signed two more large contracts for other companies. Joel finally had steady work for many more years to come. You knew that Joel Miller was finally set for life with his business. But you couldn't say the same thing for your marriage.

Joel used to do all these silly little things with you. It's what made hard times bearable in the past. But ever since a year ago your husband's attitude has changed. In the past year you felt like you had gone from Joel's loving wife, to a ‘thing’ or an ‘it’ to him.

“I guess you're right,” you said, looking out the window at the salon. You were trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to come at the realization that life was different now. “I don't know what else we could do at the last minute.”

“Yeah, m’ither” Joel said while picking lint off his jeans and refusing to look at you in the face anymore.

“Joel, do you still want to do something with me today?” You waited in silence as he stared out the window, not answering you.

“Joel” you said a little bit louder, still trying for a connection. But yet again, no answer. Uncomfortable silence continued for several minutes, neither one of you uttering a single word. Finally, Joel broke first by exhaling loudly. He then closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat's headrest. 

“Joel, are you still with me honey?” you asked one last time. When silence continued, that's when you understood that you had failed miserably at trying to have a fun and relaxing day.

“I'll just take you home then, leave you alone, and let you rest.” You mumbled out loud, more to yourself. “God y/n, why are you so fucking stupid. If he didn't want to do stuff with you before, he sure as hell won't want to do anything with you now. Stupid, stupid, silly girl.” 

What you didn't realize was that you verbalized your internal turmoil, and the man sitting next to you heard it. Joel hated hearing you berate yourself, a bad habit that you picked up from your father and your father's now divorced ex-wife. Joel knew that he was the cause of your current stress and anxiety. After all, he was the asshole who was never home and when he was, you two were always arguing and fighting all the time.  Sure, you’ve had some amazing days like Halloween night and a promise of a week ago in the car, something that he never followed through with because he got called away to deal with shit at work. He was failing you as your partner and your husband, but most of all he was failing you as your best friend.  You were his best friend, the only person that he loved spending time with. It was just today he didn’t feel up to this silly stuff you wanted to do. He knew he was the one who introduced you to this stuff with Sarah all those years ago, and that today you were just reaching for familiar territory. 

Joel sat there with his eyes closed and continued to listen to you berate yourself out loud. Why does she fucking do this to herself, she knows better, he thought. He was just about to open his mouth and yell at you to knock it off when he heard you whisper “Baby, I don’t know how to tell your daddy that you’re in there. How can I when your daddy and I can't seem to find common ground anymore.”

As soon as he heard your little admission, at the potential of you being pregnant again, Joel snapped his eyes open and looked over at you. How did I not notice this, he thought. He immediately started scanning over your body, looking for any signs that he may have missed. When he stopped and really looked at you he saw them. Your black t-shirt sat more snug around your chest, he could see that your breasts were slightly swollen. Your curves were more profound, not from fat, but from water weight he suspected.  Your tummy, a little pouch forming low on your belly.  That's a baby, he thought. His baby, the one he put there on Halloween night. You always started to show really early on in your pregnancy. According to your doctor it was extra water weight, but to Joel it was a sign of life. Something that he hasn’t seen your body do for many years, considering your youngest boy was now seven.  

Joel continued to trail his eyes slowly back up your features. He noticed the dark circles underneath your eyes. You weren’t sleeping and that worried him.  You two had lost a baby before when you were 22 weeks along, a little girl that came a year before your youngest boy.  He had given you two boys, but he knew you always wanted to try again for a little girl. But somehow life got in the way and you two never tried for a girl again. He was hoping this time around it was a girl.

With remembering your past pregnancies, Joel wondered how you were feeling.  He knew the first stages of pregnancy were hard on you. You’d hardly sleep or eat, nausea being the worst culprit.  With Joshua, your youngest, you could hardly keep anything down during the entire pregnancy.  God, he hoped that wasn’t your fate now. At least he was making enough money to cover all the living expenses, in case you weren't able to work through it like before. 

Joel then allowed his eyes to roam higher up to your eyes, that's when he saw that they were bloodshot. You were crying and berating yourself because of how he made a stupid comment, that he was embarrassed being seen with you at doing a pedicure. Jesus Joel, you’re such a fucking asshole sometimes, he thought. 

He sat there and watched you for a moment, at your struggle to try to stop the tears that were falling from your eyes. Seeing this, hearing your confession and actually looking at you, at how stressed out you were made his heart ache. He hated to see you cry, and yet you've been doing that a lot recently, thanks to him.

"Come on, darlin,'’ you heard Joel say. “My back and feet don't have all day.  Let's get this salon pampering day started.”

"Joel it's ok, we don't have to-" you said, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"No," he said. "It's a perfect idea honey, the best way to relax. I'm so sorry for snapping. I'm just- fuck baby, I'm stressed and struggling to find a proper balance between both worlds. Now come on darlin.’” Joel said, while giving your hand a tender kiss. As you both walked towards the salon, Joel gently intertwined his fingers with yours. He gave small soothing strokes with his thumb, reassuring you that he was here and present for you.

Soon Joel found himself staring at a wall with different colors of nail polish. He was being directed by you to choose a color that he wanted his toes to be painted with. "Darlin', the lady at the counter said I don't need to pick out colored nail polish." 

"Tough cowboy, you're doing it. Plus it'll show support to women everywhere if you do." You tried your hardest to give him a convincing answer of why you wanted him to do this. He just looked at you and smirked, seeing straight through your attempt.

“Supportin' women has nothin' to do with it. Ya just want to laugh at me, that's all." He said, shaking his head at your attempt with reasoning with him. Why do I always get myself in these situations with her?  But as he glanced over he saw you smiling ear to ear. You were practically jumping for joy at the thought of having a couples massage and couples pedicure with him. That's when he knew that all of this was worth it, especially if he could see you look happy and smile like that again. 

“Ok sexy mama, I'll get my toes painted” he commented, while reaching down and tickling your belly to hear you laugh some more. You started squealing and squirming as he tickled your stomach, a ticklish spot you had. Joel loved to hear you squeal and break out in a fit of laughter. The more he heard it the more his heart swelled large in his chest and the tighter his pants got in the front. It had been a long time since the two of you fucked, and God he was missing you.

As you were wiggling in Joel's arms laughing you happened to accidentally brush your hand up against his clothed crotch, and that's when you felt it, a firm prominent bulge. As soon as your hand brushed up against him you heard Joel let out a hiss at the sensation. He then gently nudged his hips against your hand while giving you a little whimper.

“Joel, how long has it been?” you asked, slowly palming him in the front. You were concerned, Joel was never this sensitive to sensation before and he's never whimpered like that just by the meer push of your palm. Oh, poor baby, you thought, you weren't the only one who had been neglected. You palmed him harder, trying to show him what you wanted. You felt him twitch and throb beneath you. “Baby, how long?” you whispered, pushing harder with your hand as he rutted up into you, seeking out more friction.

“Too long,” he panted. “It's been too fucking long since I, since we, fuck woman” he growled and snapped his hips forward, desperately seeking pleasure from you.  He wanted to open his pants and tell you to get down on your knees and to suck his cock. He wanted to fuck your mouth so bad, then bend you over one of those salon chairs and bury himself inside of you. He wanted to show you he could be the man you needed, and be the father for your children. He wanted to put a baby inside of your nice soft-

“Baby, when was your last period?” Joel said, stopping his movements and racing mind for a moment. When you didn't answer he continued by saying “I don't remember when you had your period last. Have you had one in the last two months?”

“Don't worry about it” you said, while slowly pulling your hand away. This was not a conversation you wanted to have right now.

You walked over to the side, a few feet away from Joel and you were pretending to look at the colors of nail polish. What you were really doing was trying to slow your pounding heart in your chest. Joel approached you and slowly started to stroke your little bump saying “how late are we talking mama, huh?”

“Joel it's only 10 am and-”

“S'not what I meant sugar and you know it. Come on mama, how far along are we?” Joel said, flattening his palm over your belly and holding it there. 

You looked into your husband's eyes and saw compassion behind them. You were just about to open your mouth and tell him that you were 3 weeks late when someone said “Y/n and Joel Miller, they're ready for you.”

As soon as you heard them call your names you backed away and grabbed the purple nail polish that was right in front of you. It reminded you of the first time you did this all those years ago with Sarah and him. It made you smile at the warm memory. This one is perfect, you thought. You handed it to Joel saying “I think this color would look great for the both of us.”

When Joel looked down he saw that the nail polish was purple with sparkles in it, your favorite color. When he glanced at your face he saw uncertainty in your eyes at the events that just played out. So with a grin and a squeeze from his large hand he grabbed the jar from you and said “Ok, purple it is. Now come on mama, let's go and get you nice and relaxed.” 

Three hours later Joel was slowly relaxing. He was laying on his stomach, purple sparkly toe nails poking through the blanket, as a very attractive woman worked the hell out of his shoulders. Kiara, Joel's masseuse, was an expert in deep tissue massage. After the staff found out that he basically was one big hard tight knot, he was advised that deep tissue massage would be the best option.

"Aw darlin' right there," Joel said as Kiara worked on his lower back. 

"Mr. Miller, you're so stiff and tight. It's gonna take me a bit to work you fully out. Does it feel better when I press right here?" Kiara asked, pushing on Joel's lower back, a place you knew turned your husband on.

"Ah yeah, right there" Joel grunted at the sensation.

You were on your own massage table being worked on by Fredrick, a middle aged man with a beer gut. While Joel had Kiara, a 42 year old big breasted, fully fit porn star looking woman. You know, the type of women your husband likes to look at when he's browsing those adult only sites. 

As you continued to watch Kiara flirt with your husband, you felt your insecurities creep up into your skull, worrying you.  You had no idea if Joel would be ok with this unplanned pregnancy. You knew the old Joel would be ok with it. But now you had no idea how he'd react, especially with how he has behaved this past year.  The longer this went on, the more your irrational fears seeped deep into your subconscious. 

When Joel moaned for the third time in less than five minutes at Kiara asking him if something felt good, you found yourself snapping at your husband.  "Joel, for the love of God, can you please just shut the hell up? Really, no one wants to hear how good it feels to have someone else touch you." You didn't know why, but you were upset, angry, and hurt all at the same time. Somehow hearing someone else pull those little sighs or grunts out of your husband bothered the hell out of you.

"Look here woman, I'm enjoying myself, ok? Your fault for making me do this. So pull back the attitude now." He said, snapping at you.

After a moment he added, "What's with your attitude anyways today, huh?" 

"I don't know Joel, why don't you tell me."

"Look here missy, I don't know what's up your ass today. But whatever it is, it can just stop. Don't ruin this for me with your petty bullshit. Got it?" he said, with a warning in his voice.

"Petty bullshit, really? Are you kidding me Joel? You promised me you’d spend time with me today. And-”

“And what y/n? What more could you possibly want from me today than what I’m already giving you?”

When you didn't open your mouth to argue, Joel assumed the problem was solved. That you'd stop throwing your little temper tantrum. But what he didn't realize was that the emotion you were now feeling wasn't one of defiance. You were feeling neglected and you didn't want to do this day anymore. You thought you could have a fun day with your husband, like you used to when you two dated. But now, you just wanted to go home, and pretend that today and this past year never happened. You wanted your husband to be around, present more, and not treat you like you were someone who was a burden or a checkmark on a list. You wanted to pretend that your husband still cared. 

When you counted it up, it had been almost two months since you and Joel had sex last. To make matters worse, your period was almost 3 weeks late. You were worried about what he'd say when he found out.  You were pregnant, that much was evident on the pregnancy test that you had taken over a week ago. You knew that your fears right now were irrational, that you were just making something out of nothing. But to you your fears felt very real.  And with Joel smiling and laughing so easily with Kiara, it made your stomach hurt and twist in knots at the thought that he didn't want you anymore. 

You were so lost in your own head, that you didn’t notice that Fredrick had stopped massaging your back.  He could sense how tense your body was, and the turmoil of feelings that you were feeling. "Mrs. Miller, are you ok?" he whispered.  When you didn’t respond to him right away, he said louder “Mrs. Miller, are you ok?”

As soon as Joel heard the question from Fredrick he snapped his head to the side to look at you. When he saw you, you were laying face down, your hand up by your mouth as you were sobbing into the table.  “Baby, are you ok?” Joel asked, worried and concerned of what made you fall apart like this.  

"Yeah, I'm. I'm fine” you said, trying not to have your voice break. “Can you um- can you please excuse me. I gotta- I don’t feel well.”  You then got up, and walked into the changing room that was attached, tears still streaming down your face.

As Joel watched you walk away he knew this little adventure the two of you were having today was over with.  He apologized to Kiara and Fredrick, stating that the both of you would be leaving early. As he went to his own dressing room to get dressed, he started thinking to himself.  He knew that you were stressed out a lot, and that the two of you were having problems. He also knew that you just wanted a day to relax with him, so seeing you like this broke his heart. You have cried a lot recently and he could understand why, but it still bothered him. He didn't mean to snap at you today, he was just stressed out himself. He began to realize though that his stressors and your stressors were drastically different.

Something was up with you, that much was certain. You were more sensitive and emotional recently. If he attempted to ask you about it, you'd just blow up at him. Usually when you were more emotional it meant that you were by or on your period. But Joel was confused, especially with seeing those other bodily signs that you were having. Were you pregnant and he just didn't see it? Or were you having flare ups of your gynecological problems again and he wasn't noticing it. He was so busy with work that he didn't remember if you had your period yet, that's why he asked you earlier today. He was trying to calm his own irrational fears of being an inattentive husband. 

The problem was he didn't know what was off or how to fix it with you. If your admission earlier was true, that you were in fact pregnant, then why did you hide it from him and not tell him?  Were you embarrassed in carrying his child? Joel was lost in thought, trying to figure out what he could do that he almost missed hearing you get sick in the other room. As soon as he heard the telltale signs of you throwing up he muttered to himself “shit,” and finished getting dressed.

While Joel was in his dressing room getting lost in thought, you were in yours doing the same thing. You quietly dressed in your changing room, trying to calm the tears that were flowing. As you looked down you noticed the little bump you had. You kept trying to flatten your shirt overtop of it, to hide it from the world. You weren’t upset that you were pregnant, you were just overwhelmed at the moment and didn't want to think about it.  But the more you tried to suck in your gut, to flatten your shirt, you started to slowly panic. You tried tucking in your shirt, then you untucked it, nothing worked to hide what was growing inside of you. You couldn't hide the embarrassment of getting pregnant from a man who you didn’t think wanted you anymore. In your experience, which was limited, an unplanned pregnancy when there were marital problems never resulted in a happy ending for the mother or wife. As this realization hit you, you felt the bile rise up fast in your throat.  Your hands were shaking, and you were drowning in your own irrational fears and anxiety. Worst part, no matter what you did you couldn't calm yourself down.

Tears began to flow hard again from your eyes as you tried anything to stop the anxiety from swallowing you whole. You felt like you were suffocating, drowning in a pool of uneasiness.  Your vision went fuzzy, your ears started to ring, and the whole world started to spin on its axis. You reached out and were fumbling around the room, trying to find something to grab onto to center yourself. As soon as you grabbed the garbage can your knees buckled and you collapsed. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt the bile rise up fast again in your throat. You grabbed the garbage can just in time as your body heaved the entire contents out of your stomach into the trash.  

You were retching so hard into the garbage, shaking with panic as tears flowed down your face that you never heard the door open and a man approach you. Your anxiety was swallowing you whole and you said with a breathless plea to yourself, in-between vomiting sessions, that you were scared and couldn't do this anymore. Then like a miracle from heaven, you felt those familiar rough hands gently reach out and center you once again.

When Joel entered the room his heart sank at seeing you collapsed on the ground and retching into the garbage can. You were pleading for someone to help you, to make the pain and anxiety stop. You were drowning in your own anxiety and it broke his heart. No one hurts my babies, he thought, especially him.

Joel slowly walked up to you and gently reached out to gather your hair into his hands. After he pulled it back from your face he placed one of his hands gently on your tummy, while whispering “Shh, mama. Take a breath. Come on now, you’re okay. I'm right here and I ain’t leavin’. Shhh.” He continued to rub soothing circles on your belly, right where the little bump was.  When you were finished emptying the contents of your stomach Joel grabbed a towel and gently wiped your mouth saying “well, I thought that wasn’t gonna happen for a while yet.”

“What?” you said, confused, feeling completely worn out by today’s events.

“Baby, you do a bad job at hiding it.” Joel said with a smirk on his lips.

“Joel, I don’t know what you’re-” and then it dawned on you, he heard you. He heard your admission in the car that you were pregnant.  As soon as that realization hit you, Joel watched your eyes go wide as you started to shake your head violently back and forth. You stood up and immediately started backing away from him, eyes blown wide with anxiety and panic once again.

Joel slowly stood up and watched you as realization took hold of you of your earlier admission. “Baby, take a breath for me, ok?” he said, trying to calm the fear and panic that you had. As he slowly approached you he said “sugar you gotta slow your breathing down, come here, let me help you.” He slowly reached out to you so you could center yourself.

“No, no, no. You can't know, I can't do this alone. Please God, why is this happening to me?” you said out loud, not wanting the world to fall apart around you.  You didn’t want this discussion now, not when you didn’t know what you could do.  You didn’t want him to kick you out, to say that you disappointed him, that you were a disappointment.  Joel never said those words to you, your father did when he found out that you were dating his best friend. And the way your father dealt with it was to kick you out of the house, after he berated you in front of Joel. You knew Joel wasn't your father, but in this moment your father’s voice and Joel’s voice blurred together in your head.

When you felt your back hit the wall you knew that your running was over. You had to face the man in front of you, whether or not you wanted to.  You instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest, hanging your head low when the sob that you’ve been holding back all day finally broke free from your chest and swallowed you whole.  Your knees buckled and you started to fall to the floor like a ton of bricks sobbing hysterically saying “I can't be homeless again. I can't do this abuse again.”

Joel wasn't trying to scare you, he just wanted to center you and stop you from spiraling out of control. But when he saw your knees buckle he said “shit” and moved fast to catch you. He then wrapped his big arms around you, and pulled you tight to his chest as you let out all of the anxiety and frustration of the last several weeks.

“Come on now little one, don’t cry” he said, calling you a nickname he hasn’t called you for a long time. 

“I’m sorry Joel, I’m sorry” you kept saying, as you let out all of your pent up anxiety.

“No. Come on baby, don’t say that. You got nothin’ to be sorry for. Let's slow your breathing down, yeah? Alright little one, how ‘bout you breathe with me.” He said, speaking softly into your ear. You felt him slowly lower his hand to the small of your back, rubbing tiny circles on your skin, attempting to quiet your tears. You also started to match his breathing with long inhales and slow exhales.  

After listening to him breathe and matching his breathing for a while he slowly lowered his hand to your belly and gently started stroking it.  You then heard Joel whisper in your ear, “I love you baby, no matter what. I need you to know that I’ll never leave you, no matter what. Ok?”

When you didn’t respond he took a step back, bent down and looked you straight in the eyes.  You nodded your head slightly, attempting a weak smile as you finally had calmed yourself down. He stared at you for a moment, assessing your features to see if you truly were done with your panic attack or if you still were in it.  When he realized that you weren’t going into another one, he gently tucked you into his side and whispered “ok mama, how ‘bout we get you home so you can lay down and relax. You've had a tough day honey.” 

After a few silent minutes of gathering your things together, eventually the two of you started to walk for the exit of the changing room.  Before you exited the doorway you said “Joel um- I got something I wanna say.”

Joel stopped and looked down at you, gently nodding his head.  This was it, the moment you were going to say that you were pregnant.  You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You started to panic and overthink things again.  What happens if he’s mad at me and yells at me again? You were silently having an internal tug-o-war with yourself. 

Inside Joel was frustrated with himself that you couldn’t be honest with him. He was silently scolding himself for creating this environment in which you didn’t feel 100% comfortable with talking with him.  Something that he promised himself that he would change, starting right now.  As he stood there and watched you play tug-o-war with your mind, he tried to give you the warm environment of being relaxed, yet his own stomach was churning and twisting itself into knots.

“Joel, uh-”

“Yes darlin’” he said, coaxing you gently to speak.

“I- uh. Shit.” you couldn’t do it, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t say the words ‘Joel I’m pregnant.’  

Joel could see that you weren't ready, but he wanted to give you the reassurance that you needed. He reached his hand out and gently placed it on your belly, on top of the little bump and said “I know mama, it's scary. You can tell me in your own time when you feel comfortable, yeah? Just know that no matter what, I love you.”

He gently kissed the top of your head, and with a smile he ushered you out towards the front desk.  He sent you out to the car to relax as he squared away the fees for you being sick. When he got back into the car he groaned for a moment at the feeling of his back tightening up again.

“I don’t get how ya women think this is relaxin’.” He said, looking over at the salon as he put the car in reverse. “My back feels like it’s in a million more knots now. Shit.”

With a small smirk you said “Joys of deep tissue massage honey.”

“Yeah well, I feel like I went 20 rounds with that damn massage table. It kicked my ass good and hard too. This relaxin’ stuff is hard work hon.” Joel said, slightly groaning while having another back spasm.

“No, I just think it means that you're an old grumpy man,” you said, nonchalantly. 

Joel was stopped at the light, waiting for it to turn green. He glanced over at you, eyes wide at your statement of him being an old grumpy man. “S’not funny babe,” he grumbled.

“Well honey, it's the truth” you whispered, as you softly kissed his cheek. “At least we know this still works” you added, giving him a playful bite to his ear as you gently cupped your husband's crotch. You palmed him for a moment and felt him slowly enlarge at your words. 

“Does that feel good baby?” You asked in a sultry tone, as you slowly stroked your husband's cock through his jeans.

“Ya already know it does,” he said, in a husky voice.

You gave him one more chaste kiss and a firm squeeze before you removed your hand. As you slowly turned your head to look out the window you felt your husband's hand on your thigh. He was rubbing small soothing circles there. It was his way of reassuring you that he cared and was still here for you. You lightly grabbed his hand and placed it firmly against your lower tummy, humming as he began to stroke your little bump there too. You couldn't verbalize it to him yet, but this was your silent way of reassuring him that you were in fact pregnant. 

Joel melted into this touch, the feel of your little bump, of his baby growing inside of you. This small simple measure finally calmed his fears. He knew that you loved him and that he loved you. No matter what he was going to be there for you and help you through this. Even though he was 52, and you were 37, and having an unexpected pregnancy was never ideal. Joel loved you and this little baby more than anything. As he silently rubbed your tummy he thought to himself everything is gonna be alright. And I can't believe that I'm gonna be a dad again ❤️

-End Part 3 Prologue-

A/N: More will come in the future with these two (proper chapters) as we take them through their pregnancy journey together. If you're interested in reading their origin story, make sure to check out the other series titled Love Never Fails coming out January 2024.

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3lazeit @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel and reader #pedro pascal #joel miller masterlist #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou2 #the last of us hbo #joel and female #marriage dynamics #husband and wife dynamics

[ben-talks-art]

Trapped and Dreaming Freedom

So I've been reading these two webtoons lately about female leads stuck in very toxic and unhealthy relationships (while being aware of it), and I'm loving every second of it!

If you know me, you know I just love a badass cool female lead and I also love seeing characters stuck in very difficult situations and watching how they use their brains and/or skills to get out of it, and both comics excel at these aspects!

First series is "Trapped", a comic about this taxi driver who got tangled by accident with a vampire who develops an obsession with both her and her blood after she manages to outsmart him a couple of times, something that hasn't happened to him in years.

It feels very "Tom and Jerry" with both characters trying to get the upper hand on their relationship, and you would think it would be super one-sided but vampires actually have quite a bit of annoying rules on how they work that severely limit their freedom and our female lead exploits as many of them as she can to make him eat sh*t! It's just glorious!

"Dreaming Freedom" is... somehow less dark, and at the same time way darker of a series.

It's not as violent or gory but it deals with more realistic problems that hit closer to home for some like school bullying, abandonment, harassment, family abuse, and so on.

The premise is that our female lead teams up with a guy that has the power to use dreams to affect people in the real world, and they use this ability to get revenge on all the girl's classmates that harassed her, but the more our female lead does that, more the male lead gets obsessed with her and we later find out that he has some serious anger issues making him extremely dangerous.

Our lead basically goes from "I can use him to get payback!" to "Oh my God, I'm the only thing that's keeping this dude under control and away from people!"

It feels like you're being handed a living knife that you just pray won't run out of control or turn itself against you. It's so uncomfortable but at the same time so thrilling!

While I really don't like when unhealthy relationships are glamorized and used to send some kind of "Oh, he's kinda dangerous... But at least he loves you, so it's okay, right?" message, I do like it when the unhealthiness of the relationship is the focus AND is painted as a problem that needs to be fixed.

I like how both female leads always call the male leads on their bs and keep them in check whenever they start going too far, and it's fun to see how they use them whenever they're backed into a corner by the antagonists of the stories.

Also like the themes these series explore, about how when you keep dealing with people that act like monsters you see yourself slowly turning into a monster yourself and start to attract other monsters as well, eventually making you question how far can you go? How far should you go? Can you get back from it? And so on.

But most of all, I like that both series make sure to show that these "bad boys" were their last freaking options. Not the first, not the second, but the very bottom of the barrel. They went to them only after they felt they had no other choices and were sure that nobody else would take their side.

This isn't just "Oh, I went to him because he's a hot bad boy", this is "The world turned its back on me so I'm gonna use the only cards that I have left."

They basically made a deal with their devils and now the fun is watching to see how/if they're gonna get out of it.

This is how I like to see problematic relationships. You don't paint them as something normal or something good, you paint them as a hardship that needs to be dealt with and use it to do clever commentary on the worst aspects of humanity so we can learn how to be better and as a source for good and intense drama to make us worried for the main characters and invested in seeing them get out okay.

#dreaming freedom #free in dreams #trapped #olgami #webtoon #Kkum-eseo Jayu-ro

[gingerequinoxe]

Cigarette Daydreams

This is the first bit I ever publish ! This is a Larissa Weems/fem!reader story, I hope you like it ! A bit angsty, a bit fluffy.

Warnings : none

You used to be a teacher at Nevermore along with Larissa before she was a principal. You had a brief but intense relationship that you ended to go deal with your own issues. Years later, you come back and have to face Larissa again. Things are rocky at first, up until the Rave’n night where you finally discuss your past, and eventually, your future.

Standing in the darkness of a secluded spot in the gardens, you sighed before you leaned on a pillar. Tonight had been one chaotic night. You had made sure that all the students at the Rave’n went back to their rooms, and most of them were now on their way for a midnight shower. Your heart went to the maintenance janitor who would have to scrub all of that red paint out of the white bathrooms. Shaking your head, you dived into your pocket to grab your pack of cigarettes. You tucked one in between your lips and lit it before taking a long drag.

"You know you're not allowed to smoke on school's grounds, even if you're not a student."

You turned around and noticed Larissa standing behind you. Like you, she had changed into other clothes – none of you really had a choice, anyway. She had traded her fancy party dress for a comfortable wool dress. She wasn't wearing any make-up, but still kept her hair in a strict bun. She somehow managed to look even better than she did in your memories.

"Damn," you said, "I hope no one's gonna tell on me. Do you think I'm gonna get in trouble in the principal's office ?"

She snorted and crossed her arms on her chest, taking a few steps towards you.

"I'm sure my silence can be arranged if you share." she sighed.

You frowned and reached in your pocket for your pack, offering her one.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't." she said as she accepted your flame, "Just one if I've been really stressed. And after tonight..." she trailed off.

"Yes." you nodded, "Tonight was a lot. Especially for you."

"At least it was only paint.", she commented, "Not real blood. Which means it won't smell like copper in the Main Hall. But it's going to take ages before we can get rid of all of the stains."

"No one's badly hurt," you reassured her, "and the boys responsible for that little joke have been handed to the local police. They’ll get what they deserve. Everything will be alright."

"Except it won't." she said as she shook her head, "Nothing is going to happen to them. To Jericho's people, it's nothing but a harmless children's prank, and after what happened to the statue on the fountain... I'm afraid the whole town is going to celebrate this humiliation." she took a long drag of her cigarette, "And the parents... I don't know what to tell them. It's supposed to be a safe haven for their children to grow and experience life in its fullest, and tonight I failed to..."

"Hey," you stopped her, placing your hand on her arm, "Stop it. You did not fail anything. Until this last dance, the party was perfection. Everyone was having so much fun. Someone or something's after this place, and that's also why I'm here. You're not alone in this, and I know you wouldn't let anything happen to these children.", you squeezed her arm gently, "And I won't either."

She did not answer immediately. Instead, her blue eyes bore into yours, and you both stood in silence for a moment. You dropped your hand and stuffed your cigarette's butt in your pocket ashtray. You handed it to her and she did the same as you.

"Thank you." she whispered, "It means a lot to me.”

"It's okay. I really mean it. You..." you swallowed with difficulty before you added, in a low voice, "You mean a lot to me, Larissa. You always did. And I mean that, too."

She stiffened a little and turned her head towards the dark gardens. She let out a deep breath before she shook her head :

"It's in the past. But thank you."

"Is it, though ?" you took a step closer to her, "Is this thing we have a thing of the past ?"

She let out a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes.

"It has to be. For the simple reason that it cannot be any other way."

She turned on her heels and started heading towards the building, but you grabbed her wrist and held her in place.

"We're not done talking, Issa."

"Don't call me that." she hissed.

"Why can't it be any other way ? Why do you have to be so controlling of everything, why do you resist it ?"

"Controlling ?" she tore her wrist out of your grip, "Not everyone can get away from their responsibilities by running away like you did. I have a ton of responsibilities. I have to be stable, for this school, for these kids, and for myself."

You crossed your arms on your chest and bit the inside of your cheeks. That stung, but there was a part of truth there.

"Would you at least listen to me if I tried to explain myself ?" you asked, despair clear in your voice.

"Explain what ? Why you ran away and let me with no answer, no news, for years ? Or are you going to explain why you treated me like the dirt on your shoes days before your disappearance ?"

Even in the dark of the night, you knew her face was slightly red in anger. Her breath was labored, and before you could mutter a word, you saw her turn her back to you.

"Issa !”

“Stop calling me that !” she replied without looking back at you, “I don’t care for your answers or explanations. I needed them years ago. Now they mean nothing. Good night.”

She took a few quick steps before you shouted :

“Larissa ! Come back now. Come back and listen to me." your tone was uncharacteristically firm, "Hear me out on this, just a moment. Let me say my piece, and then I'll do anything you want me to."

She stopped in her tracks, with her fists clenched and her shoulders tense.

"You had years to say your piece."

"I know. If it really doesn't matter to you, you can walk away and never look back to me. I'll just complete my job here, and I'll be on my way."

"Leaving again," she scoffed as she turned to look at you, "how original."

"You don't want me to stay with you, but you don't want me to leave either." you retorted, "What is it that you want ?"

She considered your words for a moment, and for a few seconds you felt like you had a point. She nodded and stared back at you, inviting you to talk. You exhaled a breath that you apparently had been holding before you spoke :

"I'm not proud of what I did. It was reckless, and stupid, and frankly irresponsible and hurtful. I profoundly regret it – I've spent years regretting it. Not that it changes a thing," you said as you felt she wanted to interrupt, "But I still want you to know that. You deserve an apology, and an explanation, even though I should have done it years ago. Truth is, I missed you every single day since the day I left. I was too young, and too lost to even understand what was going on. You were older than me, and you had ambitions, you had a plan for yourself – I did not. All I had was a profound hate for who I was, for being an outcast, and... And even surrounded by my peers, I felt so isolated."

You swallowed few tears and clenched your jaw. Larissa, on the other hand, seemed less angry and more concerned. You ran your hand through your hair and sighed :

"I've fucked us up, I know. You didn't deserve any of what I did to you, and you did not deserve me leaving. You didn't deserve to think it was your fault. You were never lacking, and I'm sorry that I made you feel like you were.", you shook your head and closed your eyes, a few tears finally escaping your eyelids, "But I miss you, Larissa. And I don't think I'll ever stop missing you."

There. It was done. The words were out, and your feelings were laid bare before her. You wiped your cheeks gently and let out yet another sigh. The silence you now shared with her was heavy and uncomfortable, so different from the one you used to share on peaceful nights, full of knowing looks and warm affection. You buried your hands in your pockets as you made your mind ; it was time to go. You had said your piece, after all.

"My whole life, I felt like I wasn't important."

Her voice stopped you in your tracks as you walked past her. You shifted and watched her, with her eyes on the floor, and her hands fidgeting.

"I've always felt second best, inadequate. I'm not saying that because, like everyone here, I'm an outcast. That must have played a part, but there was so much more. I wasn't pretty like other girls. “The stately sequoia tree”, they used to call me. I wasn't... I wasn't Morticia Frump. I was the girl no one remembered existed except before a test, when they didn’t have any notes, the girl people forgot about at the end of classes, the girl who wasn't invited in town. I know it's probably stupid, because it happened so long ago, but in some ways I feel like I haven't changed that much."

She finally turned to watch you, and you noticed tears in her own eyes as well.

"What I'm trying to say is... I did not feel like this with you. When we met, you managed to make me believe I could be someone's first choice for once. That I wasn't going to be tossed away at the first sign of another opportunity. When you left..."

She swallowed the tears for a moment and fought the sobs, her lips visibly trembling.

"When you left, it destroyed this confidence I've been building. It left a hole in me. My whole world crashed down. I was back at square one, and God, I missed you so much too, it hurt me so badly. But despite this, in a way... I've never stopped missing you either."

She took a deep breath and ran her hand into her coiffed white hair before she talked again, her voice barely above a whisper now :

"What's so confusing in all of this is that you're back, and everything is back with you. I tried to hate you at first, tried so hard not to fall back into those feelings I used to have and... Well, as you see, it seems like I've failed again."

You stood there for a moment, taking in her words, the confession she just made. It might have been chilly outside tonight, but right now you felt like your body was on fire, but also it felt rooted in place.

"You're important, Larissa. To me, you mean everything." you finally said.

You heard a shuddering breath leave her lips. She moved to turn her head away, but you were quicker : you took a step towards her and rose a hand to her face, cupping her face gently. Prompting her to look at you, you noticed two tears slipping from her eyes. Wiping them with the pad of your thumbs, you leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours.

"Is this okay ?" you whispered.

After a second, she nodded and closed the distance between your lips. A whimper escaped your throat, and you immediately deepened the kiss, your arms circling her waist to pull her closer, infinitely closer to your body. You felt her own arms wrapping around your neck. When your tongue caressed her bottom lip, it was her turn to groan. The sound almost suprised her, and she immediately pulled back, much to your surprise.

"We can't," she breathed, "please, we can't. Not here."

"The students have all gone to bed. There's no one out there."

"Please, let's just... Just think, for a moment."

You pulled away with a groan, immediately missing the warmth of her breath against your face, and the softness of her lips against yours. She looked at you and smiled :

"Well, at least I'm grateful for the lack of make-up."

You giggled and looked into her eyes in awe, butterflies swirling in your heart and your belly.

"I wanna do this again." you said, "I want it a lot, actually. If you ever feel like you can forgive me and trust me again, I'll be there."

She did not answer immediately, but a light smile adorned her lips. She pushed a piece of hair out of your face and sighed.

"I... Might need a little more convincing before I can say I fully trust you." she leaned in and kissed your lips chastely, "But I am willing to try and do this with you. Because I want you back, too."

#larissa weems #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x fem!reader #wednesday #wednesday tv show #wednesday 2022 #lgbt #lgbtq #lesbian

[pudding-parade]

Rusalem by AnnetStore

Welcome to the inaugural World Overview Wednesday, wherein I have a look at some of the nice, mostly old, and perhaps obscure worlds I have tucked away in a massive archive of them. My purpose is to give these worlds a little love, to give as much info about them as I can, and to give you a link to them, both to the original upload if it still works and to a re-upload in case the original vanishes into the ether. That way, you can download them if you want to. I have almost 900 worlds in said archive, so we could be here for the next 17 years. Literally. I did the math.

Anyway! My first victim is Rusalem by AnnetStore. I really like this world, though I've never played in it. Think "Jerusalem" without the "Je," and it really does look a lot like that part of the world. I mean, look at that thing! It's beautiful in its stark desert-ness. It's a big world, beautifully terrain-painted, decorated with a nod toward authenticity with date palms, olive, and cypress trees, fully built/furnished, has a distant terrain, and it's populated. It is what I think Al Simhara should have been, except that it'd need pyramids for that, I guess.

This world was uploaded to the Exchange in December of 2011, and you can download it here, in case you missed that the title of this post is also a link. :) And if you do not wish to deal with the Exchange and/or sims3packs and you don't feel like converting it yourself, I have also uploaded the .world file I made here. You just plop that in your install files in the folder at GameData > Shared > NonPackaged > Worlds. No need to screw around with the launcher.

But before you do all that...more pics and info behind the cut.

Aside from the fact that it's 2048x2048 and comes with 45 residents (which I'm assuming is correct; I certainly didn't count them), there is zero info about this world. That said, I am pretty certain that it needs all of the EPs that had been released when this world was made, which means up to Pets. I noticed objects from all of the EPs up to Generations, and the world does generate minor pets, which I think means that it needs Pets, too, but I'm not sure about that. I take pics of these worlds in a save that has no store content installed, and I have only the High End Loft stuff pack, and I didn't notice anything missing on any of the lots, so I think it only needs the EP stuff. It neither comes with nor requires CC.

This world has basement rabbitholes on all of the rabbithole lots. Of course you can edit them and use rugs instead if you don't like the basement rabbitholes thing.

The world has all spawners (other than the Island Paradise and Into the Future ones, of course), and they are placed in a well-distributed way throughout the world.

Older worlds sometimes have weird issues because, for instance, EA breaks shit with patches. While taking pics of this world, it ran for five simdays. During that time, I sent my sim all over the place and the pre-made population was running around, too. I noticed no weird issues (like sims walking on water), had no notifications about stuck sims (except for a wild horse once, but they always get stuck), and generally saw no issues or lag. So, I think this one's OK in an up-to-date game.

Now let's take a look at the lots and stuff.

This is the main area of the world. It's up on a rise, and it's where the majority of the rabbitholes are as well as a good number of residential lots, many of which are unoccupied so you can move in plenty of your own sims even if you keep the pre-made population. Here's the Edit Town view, so you can see what's what with that:

Now let's take a look at some of these individual lots. Can't look at all of them because we'd be here until next Wednesday, but some of them.

This is the science lot. The building is mostly empty, but it does have an inventing station, and though you can't see them in the pic there are also scrap piles to collect scrap from on the lot. If you've got an inventor sim, this is where they'll need to go to get scrap if you don't want them to buy it because there isn't a dedicated junkyard in the world. There are also harvestables on the lot so that science-career sims can work on their Gardening skill before or after work, if they don't have a home garden. I would add the science objects from University Life, too, because of course that EP didn't exist when this world was created.

This is the city hall, which is quite fancy outside but almost entirely empty inside. So, there's three stories of space to add stuff, if you want to.

This is the fire station, which is nice but, oddly, doesn't come with a fire truck, so you'll need to add one. Or two, since there's two parking spaces of appropriate size.

This is the ziggurat-like library, and this...

...is part of the town's big park (and there are numerous smaller ones scattered throughout the world). It is not a seasonal festival lot because Seasons didn't yet exist when this world was made, but it would be easy to make it so, if you wanted to. You can also see the lot at one end of this park, which is set up as a wedding venue, with the arch and guest seating on the rooftop and a buffet table, bars, and tables/chairs inside the building.

This is the house where I placed the sim that I move into these worlds when I'm taking pics of them:

I have to say, the residential lots in this world are quite cute and match the theme very well. They are also all different, ranging in size from small starters, to moderate family homes, to expensive villas, to one honest-to-pie palace. They are all fully, albeit usually basically, furnished. Here's the furnishing in one of the starter-priced homes, which is suitable for a family of four:

And here is one of the expensive villas:

And here's the freakin' palace, which has a curtain wall with four towers and comes with two sports cars:

It's occupied by one of the pre-made families, but if you want to have your sims live in it, just annihilate/evict them. :)

Here's Edit Town views of the other smaller neighborhoods in the world:

Here's one of them in regular gameplay:

Most of them have their own little park/playground for the kids, and the one that's fairly far from "downtown" has its own grocery store and diner.

Here's one of the moderate family homes in one of the smaller neighborhoods:

Many of the homes in the world have outdoor living spaces, both covered patios as well as rooftop space. This particular house has both.

Now, about the pre-made population...Ehhhhh, I don't think they fit very well for the theme. Here are two of them:

Me, I'd nuke them and make my own families that would fit the theme better. But, I guess that's up to the player

The only other thing that might be a problem with this world is that the creator of it is Russian, so unless your game is also in Russian, you'll have a lot of dialogues and lot names/addresses/descriptions and such that look like this:

It's easy to change sims' names with Master Controller, but I don't think it's possible to change lot addresses. So, there's that. But, it's pretty easy to figure out what's what.

And we'll finish off with some more scenery, including sunset pics plus a nighttime one of the "downtown" area.

#sims 3 #world overview #world overview wednesday #sims 3 scenery

[atlasdoe]

Hi my name is Ace and I just finished Wednesday and need to rant about Xavier

Xavier was by far my least favourite character on the show for multiple reasons and I need to rant about it so here is a long ass rant about why I dislike him, why I think he and Wednesday will never work and how I think the writers could improve his character next season.

If you like Xavier feel free to read this and give your view just don't be rude, please :)

Firstly he is the most boring character on the show. He literally has nothing going on.

Firstly I dislike the “small American town stereotype” that he is, that being the tortured artist. This is a personal opinion but it’s been done so many times before and these characters have always gotten on my nerves the most. To me, Xavier is no different and n my mind he’s just Jughead Jones with a paintbrush. 

The main arc that Xavier has throughout the season is that Wednesday thinks that Xavier is the hyde, but in the end its nothing, Xavier was telling the truth the entire time and has nothing to hide therefore we spent all of this time trying to figure out what he was hiding only to realise that he wasn’t hiding anything at all. If Xavier had something else to hide then the reveal could’ve made his character more interesting but because there was nothing he lost any potential he originally had. 

Compare this to Tyler (which I will be doing a lot, sorry) who also had an arc focused on mystery, we knew something was up with Tyler's mum but not what, similarly to how we knew something was up with Xavier and his paintings and inconvenient coincidences, however with Tyler the payoff worked. Tyler was hiding something, there was more to his character than we originally thought and that reveal added layers to his character from being a small-town barista to a serial killing monster. Xavier is the same person at the end of the season then he is at the start, even being framed and arrested didn’t develop him in any way. 

Another thing that Xavier is going through is the troubles he has with his dad, but we don’t really know anything about that. We know that his dad is a famous seer and that Xavier has daddy issues but that’s it. A lot of the characters in the show have struggled with their parents, the difference with Xavier is that we don't see those struggles play out. We see all of the other characters interact with their families so we can get a true sense of what they’re dealing with but all we get from Xavier is him sulking in a corner. Now I understand that one of Xavier's and his dad's hardships is that he doesn't show up but then I would’ve wanted them to use another way of showing us more about their dynamic. Maybe just hearing one side of a phone conversation would’ve done more to show what their relationship is like rather than just being told by Xavier. 

They could be teasing Xavier and his dad for season two but if that's the case then they did a bad job at it because I do not care about Xavier or his dad at all.

My main point is that when there are plotlines like the hyde or Bianca’s mums cult or Enid not being able to wolf out or the Gates family, Xavier was the character I was the least interested in, especially when it was at a point where it would be too obvious if he did end up being the hyde.

Of course, I have to talk about the love triangle when talking about Xavier's character because it took up a big part of his screen time. 

I do want to start by saying that this is probably not an unbiased opinion as I am a Tyler and Wednesday shipper but I will try to look at both sides as I can. 

Firstly let's get the “who was the most creepy” argument out of the way. I don’t really believe that either of them was creepy in a sense.

The worst Tyler did was told Wednesday that he felt like she was giving him signs when she obviously wasn’t. I’ve seen people say that if this was Xavier then more people would call him creepy and I do agree with this but mostly because you have to look at the context in which Tyler is saying it.

Tyler was wrong, Wednesday was not giving him any signs at all but at this point in the show Tyler is deliberately inserting himself into Wednesday's life to gain her trust, therefore it is very possible that Tyler knew he was wrong and was doing this to manipulate her or at least to put the idea of them being romantic into her head. Later on in the scene, he asks her if she’s just using him as a pawn in her game and as a viewer, I was fully expecting her to tell him that she was, but she doesn’t and instead tells him that she had priorities rather then just turning him down. 

Everyone has their own opinion about whether Tyler really cared for Wednesday or not and how much of what he said was genuine. In my opinion, he started out purely trying to manipulate her but started to catch feelings as they started to spend more time together, similar to how Wednesday started out only using Tyler to later catch feelings for him.

Xavier is different. Xavier doesn’t have any ulterior motives regarding his feelings towards Wednesday, so if it was Xavier who said this, it would be in a different context.

In theory, Xavier cares more for Wednesday, but that doesn't mean he’s a better fit for her.

My main criticism of their relationship is that Xavier just doesn’t get her like other characters do. I have three examples of this.

The first is when he suggests that Wednesday should join the secret society despite the fact that it seems to be led by Bianca who Wednesday hates and the fact that it’s a social club when Wednesday doesn’t like socialising. He then proceeded to get mad at her because he “stuck his neck out for her” when she declines.

Another example is at the dance where Xavier tells Wednesday that Tyler ruined his mural as a warning that she should stay away from him. Indicating that he thought that telling her this would make her back off of Tyler when really her response to this was “I would’ve done worse.” Keep in mind that this is Wednesday Addams we’re talking about. She once said that she would hate to be done for attempted murder because then everyone would know she failed, why Xavier thought that she would care about his mural is beyond me honestly, I actually find it quite funny how he thought that would do anything.

My third example is to be determined really but him giving her a phone at the end of the season I feel is another example if him not really understanding her. Wednesday says that she “doesn’t want to be a slave to technology” and throughout the season that never changes, she is never seemed to be lacking without a phone. The whole wanting to keep in touch is understandable but I think it could’ve worked better if Xavier had given her a flip phone or something like that. A way for them to keep in touch without having it be modern technology like an iPhone. (Also saving money in Xavier's case)

(Side note: I actually think that scene could’ve worked a lot better if it has been Edin giving Wednesday the flip phone rather than Xavier. It seems like something she would do and I do believe that if she was to get Wednesday a phone she would get her a flip phone rather than an iPhone.)

Compare these situations to Tyler playing Legally Blonde as a scary movie because he knew that she would hate the film and like that she hated the film (manipulation or not, he still understood her enough to manipulate her well) 

The main thing that Xavier had against Tyler is that Tyler is obviously the villain but again this is Wednesday Addams and as toxic as Tyler is Wednesday is just as bad. 

If the writers do it right they can have an amazing lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers arc with maybe the whole “only I can kill you” vibe. Idk but dating a serial killing monster seems right up Wednesday's alley (even she says it.)

For Xavier and Wednesday to work for me they’ll have to make Xavier more interesting and lean more into Wednesday’s vibe. With Edin and Wednesday, they’re opposites attract and with Tyler and Wednesday they’re two sides of the same coin. To me, Xavier is just somewhere in the middle and has the most boring dynamic out of the three of them. 

I’ve seen a lot of people online refer to Xavier and Wednesday as sunshinexmidnightrain or goldenretrieverxblackcat but I’m sorry they’re simply not.

Xavier is not sunshine. He is the tortured artist with daddy issues. He is constantly complaining or jealous, he gets worked up easily and spends the majority of his time painting monsters in a shed. How is that sunshine? 

Edin is sunshine. She is always smiling and full of energy, she is social and tries to look on the positive side of every situation. We do see Edin get upset or mad during the show but it takes a lot to get her to reach her breaking point. If the writers are going for sunshinexmidnightrain for Wednesday's love interest they’re looking at the wrong character. 

Speaking of Xavier's constant sulking that is something else I really dislike about him.

There's one scene during the dance that really gets to me. When everyone is dancing and having a good time before it cuts to Xavier and Bianca. Bianca is dancing a little in her seat and smiling, still obviously at least trying to have a good time while Xavier is sitting next to her angry that Wednesday came to the dance without someone else and then has the nerve to ask Bianca to erase his feelings for Wednesday.

That was the scene that put me off Xavier completely and despite the fact that he did apologise it was just such a dick move to make and I especially felt bad for Bianca in that scene. 

Another thing that annoyed me was him always bringing up the fact that he saved Wednesday’s life at the beginning of the season and acting almost as if she was in debt to him because of this. Wednesday made it clear that she is not thankful so I don't know why he kept pushing it. 

( I feel like someone will bring up Tyler telling Wednesday that she owed him a date because he nearly got killed to which I will again remind everyone that Tyler is the villain and needed to distract Wednesday so again, the context is different) 

(I am also realising how hard it is to compare two men's actions when one of them has been genuine the entire time and nobody knows if the other was genuine at all) 

Now I’m sure this may seem hypocritical calling Xavier a dick for the way he acted while Tyler is the full-on villain of the show but to me, there is a big difference between a good person and a good character and a lot of that relies on how the audience is supposed to view them.

Tyler is not a good person (if he’s fully aware of everything that he’s done and doesn’t care. With Tyler, there is the tricky subject of the fact that he was also manipulated and groomed to become what he was) but he is a good character. He’s the villain, we’re not supposed to condone his actions, similar to Wednesday and her actions. Both of them are not painted to be your typical good guys but Xavier is.

Xavier isn’t the only character like this, Edin and Ajax I will also say are supposed to be seen in a good light. Not only by the viewers but by the other characters. 

Also, Wednesday is a show where little moments like that between Xavier and Bianca are bigger tells of character than murder. A character could murder someone in the show and I wouldn’t care but smaller things between characters who are supposed to be seen as good I take note of.

I don't know if that last part made sense but in my head, it does so sorry if it's just gibberish.

In conclusion, Xavier just doesn't have anything going on for him that other characters can’t so better and in a more fun way. I can see the writers going with Xavier and Wednesday as endgame but I really hope they don’t consider the number of possibilities they have with other characters.

Jenna Ortega said that she would want them to have more of a siblings relationship and I can really see that happening in the next season, considering they’re about to take some time away from each other and Wednesday never confirmed any feelings for him the writers could make his crush on her fade over time and have them become really good friends. 

I can see myself liking Xavier in future seasons but they have to give him a proper arc that's unique to his character, rather than a tortured artist with daddy issues who has a crush on the new girl.

idk if anyone will both to read all of that but if you did congrats and thank you

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x xavier #xavier thorpe #wednesday x tyler #tyler galpin #the addams family #edin sinclair

[judgeanon]

Plastic Skies - Model 13: F-15E Strike Eagle "Garuda 1"

Near the end of last year, I bought a sheet of bootleg decals to make my Mobius-1 F-22 Raptor (as seen here!). The sheet had a lot more decals than just the Mobius ones. Some were for planes I had no interest in doing, some ended up in my old decal-less Berkut model, and some inspired the model I'd end up building right after the Area 88 Tiger. After all, I knew sooner or later I'd end up making an F-15. Even if I'm not its biggest fan.

Yeah, yeah, I dunno, I just don't like the F-15 Eagle. I know it's the backbone of the USAF and a fantastic plane and it does everything and the story of how it was conceived is super funny, but there's something about it that just doesn't spark anything in me. It's just... a fighter plane. Much like the Flanker platform, it always felt like the most standard example of Fighter Jet to me, without the cool swing wings of the Tomcat or the sleek small shape of the F-16. There's no such thing as a boring fighter jet, but the F-15 is close.

That's not to say we don't have some history. One of the last models my brother built back when we were kids was an absolutely massive (for us) 1/48 scale Eagle. As with all our models, it was glued together and not much else, and I distinctively remember it losing one of its tail fins somewhere underneath a bed. Still, the thing was huge to us, and I always remember it as the biggest model we ever had. But that's about as much fondness as I have for the Eagle.

Or at least, as much as I had until Ace Combat happened.

Although the Eagle is very prominent in several AC games, the important one for this model is Ace Combat 6: Fires of Rubi--I mean Fires of Liberation, for the Xbox 360. This was one of the very last Ace Combat games I tried during my "I want to play all of them phase", since although PS1, PS2, PSP and 3DS emulation are all pretty good right now, Xbox 360 emulation is not quite there, and has apparently been not quite there for years now. I should know, I tried. But earlier this year, a very generous and dear friend of mine offered me an old Xbox 360 which he'd come into possession and was using to try some cool hacker stuff. And soon, I was finally getting to play AC6.

The game itself is great, as are all Ace Combats. It has a really interesting "large-scale battle" system, where different units are doing their own thing and you can choose which ones to support. It has the first appearance of high-g turns, which I love. It has a killer soundtrack, but that's no surprise. It has a really frustrating boss fight followed by a really amazing final level. And it has one of the most gloriously OP fictional jets in the series. Its story isn't quite as engaging as the PS2 games but I'm very glad I played it. And as seen above, the game's cover star is the F-15E, a plane for which I already had the decals to make.

So as I was finishing up the Tiger, I knew what the next project would be.

This was also going to be my first Academy model kit. Academy is a Korean model kit company that as far as I can tell sits quite comfortably in the middle ground of model kit quality. They make decent stuff for a good price with solid plastic quality, although some reviewers note a few glaring accuracy issues. I don't really care about accuracy when it comes to models, especially not at the price I found this, so I got to work pretty quickly.

The cockpit was the first step. Emboldened by my work on the Tiger, I tried to really make it shine this time, adding those little extra dabs of red to the flightsticks and other touches. Unfortunately, the decal sheets were a bit too wide for the panels, so they ended up getting warped and stretched. It looks pretty bad, but once inside the plane, I figured it wouldn't be visible. And I was right! Althouh what is visible are some of the corners where I skimped or forgot to paint, something which I'm definitely trying to work on in my latest kits.

The main fuselage was a much easier fit than the Raptor, although not quite as easy as the Tiger. The Eagle is a big motherfucker, after all, so putting it together requires a lot of pressure in different spots. Unfortunately, it also resulted in some plastic melting around a few corners, but only in the underside, and only on one wing. It was still a good lesson that made me want to invest in better cement, but it'd take a while for me to actually do it.

I decided the next step would be the nozzles, which is where this particular kit goes a bit fucking nuts. The F-15's thrusters feature external fairing arms for their variable geometry nozzles, which is way easier to explain with a picture:

And if you're observant, you can go back to that first picture of all the model's sprues and see how this kit handles that. But just in case:

The parts in green are the 30 (!) parts necessary to build just the two exhaust nozzles. The parts in orange are Academy offering people who aren't insane a way out, with two fully built nozzles with "turkey feather" panels instead of the arms. Which is very thoughtful of them, but after 12 models, I guess I was feeling a bit insane.

Admittedly, it wasn't rough sailing. The panels themselves didn't fit as well as I would've liked, and the faring arms required a very delicate touch. Still, I figured it'd all look at least decent once I went in with my beloved burnt iron paint, and sure enough, the end result was mostly fine.

Around this time, I started running into what's become my weak point this far into model building: indecisiveness. It's easy to think that models are "put them together first, then paint, then decals, then varnish, then panel lining, then clear coat", and some cheap kits are perfectly capable of following that order. But the more experienced I get and the bigger kits I try, the more I find myself playing with that order, doing things like painting certain parts of the plane first before gluing, or even fully detailing things like tail wings before I'm even done painting the fuselage.

Which sounds smart and is the way to do until you're staring at four different tasks and you just don't know what you should start on now. In this model's case, one of the biggest problems was armaments.

This isn't even all of it, btw. This is still missing the eight other missiles I also had to paint. Though I will say, as messy as the yellow tips on the Mk 82 bombs are, I'm still a little proud of the way I figured out to paint them roughly similar:

It's not perfect, but nothing is. However, the armaments thing was something that bothered me all the way to the end of the build.

Painting the fuselage was a way different story. One of the reasons why I chose AC6's F-15 was precisely because it's just one big color. No camo jobs, no masking tape save for the yellow bits on the tail wings, just me and my brushes and a newly bought box of Revell Greenish Grey paint. That paint is... an odd one. Looks absolutely disgusting when wet, like the insides of a toilet after eating some very unhealthy food, but once it dries out and especially once varnished it looks... kinda cool? Kinda awesome? It just has way more personality than the usual air superiority grays of most USAF fighters.

The other part of the build that was surprisingly comfortable was the landing gear, since this model only has one door for each gear. Made the whole thing go by in a breeze, and before I knew it, I was already putting in the decals. At least the big ones. Admittedly, they're not 100% game accurate, since AC6 uses low visibility versions of the emblems and such, but they were there and I wasn't not gonna use them.

Panel lining was also shockingly easy for this kit. Although I'm still pretty lousy at it, the kit's panel lines were very well defined and easy to get the paint in. Compared to other kits I've had, this one was very well behaved when it came to this step. Sooner than I'd expected, the whole thing seemed almost ready to be done. I just had to finish the armaments and we'd be all done.

So... yeah. You might notice something missing here. As it turns out, this kit doesn't actually have enough parts to put the 12 green bombs I'd painted besides the Mk 82. They're supposed to go three alongside the edges of the conformal fuel tanks (where the missiles now are) and three on the little chunks poking out of the sides. But for whatever reason, this kit only has four of those little chunks instead of six. And due to some issues with the instructions, I think I also glued the ones it did have wrong.

On top of that, I had some issues gluing the hardpoints with the Sidewinders and Mk-82 bombs to the wings, mostly because hey, protip: gluing stuff that's already painted and varnished is waaaay harder than gluing stuff when it's fresh off the box. But I just had to be a smart boy and get all the panel lining done first... Very frustrating, especially after realizing this, too, isn't game accurate. But it'd never really been my goal to make something perfectly accurate to the game. Like with the Raptor, like with every kit I make, I'll always choose what looks good to me over what looks closer to the real (or virtual) thing.

Eventually, the whole thing was done. Painting the cockpit was tricky but I've lost a lot of my old fears about it these days. And once the whole thing was varnished, I found myself really liking what I was seeing. The long nose, the beefy wings, the shiny engines... Maybe I'd been wrong about the F-15 all this time. Maybe it isn't really a boring jet. Maybe I just needed to let it back into my heart. And although it gave me a real tough time in a bunch of places, at the end it's low-key one of my favorite models so far, and a nice homage to an unsung game.

And it looks pretty cool on the Area 88 base too.

#My Stuff #Hobbies #Journals #F-15E Eagle #Ace Combat 6 #Garuda 1

[hirugaymi]

Sasamiya's guide book rant: a bit upsetting

Sasaki to Miyano is a very casual read, a simple, cliche BL story with gorgeous art and interesting main characters that hooks out from beginning to the end of the romance and gets you to a satisfying conclusion.

But to a person who's been hooked in this silly story like I'm committing substance abuse, the real key of Sasaki to Miyano's storytelling are its side characters, and I am not happy about what I found.

The Slice of Life genre, and consequentely shoujo manga/BL manga tend to rely on the side cast for most of its lighter moments: jokes, exposition and expanding the story.

Harusono-sensei has a habit of discreetly releasing the lore of these side characters in contexts that extrapolate her main manga story unless said lore has influence over one of her MCs.

Merch products with little story snippets, captions for her birthday art posts, little comments over her Fanbox exclusive livestreams, artbooks, light novels and Volume Extras all paint this interesting landscape of characters much richers than you'd firstly assume when picking up SasaMiya or HiraKagi to read for the first time, and as an avid fan of this Manga Universe she's built, I was anxiously waiting for the SasaMiya guidebook in hopes of getting to know one of her most recent additions to her cast: Shirahama Kyouji.

Offically debuting in the manga by chapter 42, Shirahama was previously established as Tashiro's childhood friend from the basketball club in the First Year's Novel. In 2019, when Tashiro's birthday art was posted, his name was revealed to the readers for the first time through a quote-retweet from Harusono clarifying that no, she had not invented a character out of the blue, this guy's always been Tashiro's companion. In 2020, he made another appearance in his friend's birthday art, later then becoming an established member of Miyano's now group of four friends.

In the guidebook, like she does with all her side characters, Harusono establishes his gimmick: Shirahama is a boy who wants to be popular with girls and is upset at his state of perpetual loneliness.

His current function in the story is to be the one guy who's more aware of romantic social cues, considering Kuresawa's is constantly talking about his girlfriend, Miyano is the main character who's dating for the first time and Tashiro is...

What the fuck is Tashiro doing?

Being the guy with no girlfriend was Tashiro's thing at the start! He's the one whos compained about wanting to live some kind of high school romance even if he studied in an All Boy's School (ie: the Bazaar Drama CD), he's the guy who was afraid his friends would leave him for their S/O's.

By Shirahama's official debut I started noticing a process I could only call "straight man-fication" of Tashiro's character. The author quite literally transferred his gag to Shirahama.

I abhor this decision with my whole heart, not because I don't believe Tashiro can be anything but a funny character, on the contrary, he's proved in both his novel chapters that he can be interesting and funny, specially if he's interacting with his narrative foil.

Enter Hanzawa and the contradictions of his hinted romance storyline

Harusono has established pretty well who Hanzawa is by the latter half of SasaMiya, her most developed side character apart from Hirano, who has his own manga, his family issues and his overall aversion to romance when it came to his own life made for an interesting one-time side character beyond his gimmicks with the rest of the cast.

Hanzawa's role in Tashiro's chapter in the First Years LN is to guide him into believing he can and wants to be responsible for something for once. Tashiro's role in Hanzawa's later development is to show him there's need for balance in everything and that the man deserves to rest for a while instead of trying to work his brain into repressing his personal issues.

This is a fine dynamic on its own and that, in my honest opinion, never needed to be turned into the hinted romance the manga has been giving us in the newest appearances of these characters. In the guide book, these two characters gain a whole pages long fully colored extra about the two of them missing each other.

Tashiro doesn't feel like himself when he's nostagically reminiscing the departure of his upperclasmen, his internal monologue feels divorced from the guy we cam to associate with a carefree and lighter nature. But that's fine, isn't it? Giving the carefree guy a serious moment is a classic Anime Character Development move.

Tashiro's been serious before, in moments mostly associated with Hanzawa and with worrying about him (the Movie extra where he gives him a juice bottle).

What bothers me the most is what Hanzawa becomes here.

In this guide book comic, Hanzawa's attachment to his high school life is comically exaggerated as he repeatedly refuses to leave his classroom at the last day before the Third Year's graduation ceremony and has to be forcefully dragged by Hirano.

When these two out of pocket moments for these characters appear associated with each other by matching internal monologues, they feel OOC to me.

I do not think Hanzawa's story needs a romance. I absolutely do not think Tashiro's pair should be his overachiever upperclassman.

I think Harusono's haste is apparent when you look at what these two characters became and associate it with Shirahama's persistent appearances in the story. It feels contradictory to all these established characters, but specially unfair to Shirahama, since his role in the narrative as Tashiro's companion is lost and he becomes a flanderized mess of exposition dialogue and Miyano's personal tutorial to dating life.

Not the first time she does that to a character, don't get me started on my poor boy Ogasawara.

If the guide book's a guide to anything that's bound to happen in SasaMiya's last volume and the upcoming spin-off, I don't think Hanzawa and Tashiro (or poor Shirahama, he doesn't deserve this) are on a good path.

I love SasaMiya and this has not hindered my enjoyment of the series at all, but it does hurt a bit, specially considering their individual potential.

#sasaki to miyano #sasamiya #bl manga #manga analysis #i just have a lot to talk about this one #you had a perfectly good aromantic character in your hands maam #“I hope you die” is weak. “I hope one of your favorite authors butchers one of your faves and you can't do shit” is real and it hurt #im not saying ppl who like the two of them as a pairing are wrong #i just personally enjoy them as senpai/kouhai and nothing more because their solo potential is much better #im still recovering from her straight up admitting she pushed ogasawara to the sidelines #MOST PPL DONT KNOW THE BOY'S AN ORPHAN #im just upset

[quillscales]

Shouta entered the dimly lit chamber, his steps muffled by the woven tatami mats underfoot. The chamber carried an air of concealed authority. Unlike the main audience room, which was rarely used anymore, this one was shrouded in a calculated mystery.

Dominating the far end was a large wooden panel, a kugikakushi, standing about six feet tall and carved from deep, richly-hued cypress wood. At the center of the screen was an intricately detailed image of an immense, stalwart oak tree. Its roots dug deep into the earth, a testament to resilience, while its branches reached skyward in a bloom of flourishing leaves, symbolizing growth and prosperity.

He smoothly descended into seiza as he reached the spot designated for him at a low, ebony table —a mere arm's length from the intricate wooden screen hiding Lord Yagi. His back was unwaveringly straight, his hands resting palm-down on his thighs, and his gaze directed respectfully downward. In that carefully executed posture, he was the epitome of disciplined reverence, silently awaiting his Lord's words.

The table was bare except for writing materials and an ornate incense burner wafting out curls of fragrant smoke, filling the air with a calming scent, though it was a touch too potent. Nothing on it revealed why he had been summoned.

The shadow of Lord Yagi was visible below the screen, so Shouta knew he wouldn't be waiting on him. That did occur sometimes. Flanked on either side of the screen were two of the highest-ranking members of their clan: Sasaki Mirai and Nezu. Their presence indicated something serious.

It was Nezu who spoke first.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you were asked to come here." His voice wasn't as casual as it usually was when he was handling the trainees.

Shouta lifted his gaze to meet Nezu's. He didn't ask for clarification. They called him here, and the reason would be revealed when it needed to be.

A light cough broke the silence, causing Sasaki to look at the screen with his brows pinched. "Lord Yagi—"

"Just a tickle in my throat." Their Lord dismissed the concern of his friend and advisor quickly. "I think I used too much soy sauce…" He mumbled.

Lord Yagi had been leading the clan since Shouta was just a child; it had been over forty years now, but for the past five years, he had hidden himself more and more. Some figured pride or shame over his aging led him to hide behind a screen. Shouta wasn't sure of that himself, but it wasn't his place to question it anyway.

"Well, apologies for the air of mystery," Lord Yagi said, laughter lining his words as Shouta quirked an eyebrow. The Lord had always carried a certain exuberance. Another cough escaped Yagi, this one clearly intentional. "This matter we're dealing with is of grave importance, Aizawa. Under different circumstances, I might've handled it personally, yet…"

Sasaki stepped in before Lord Yagi could continue, "It isn't fitting for a Lord to handle such affairs." He said as if Lord Yagi hadn't been handling all of the clan's affairs not five years ago. He approached the table and handed Shouta a scroll. "I presume you're aware of the Shie Hassaikai?"

Shouta took the scroll with a nod. "I have." He said before opening it. There was a picture of a young man, though not much younger than himself.

"The current leader of the Clan, Chisaki Kai, has been expanding his territory. There have also been…concerning rumours surrounding their trade." Sasaki explained as Shouta took in the painting. He would have to memorize the man's face if this were to be his target. "We've been given information that he's set up a tea house in Yumebara. Though, it's more like a brothel, or rather… His own personal play house."

Shouta frowned at the mention of Yumebara. He looked to Nezu, who confirmed his suspicions with a nod. "It was Kayama who brought this to our attention."

Shouta's frown deepened at the mention of Kayama. If she was the one who had brought this to their attention, then the issues in Yumebara must be severe indeed. It had been over a decade since Kayama left the clan to pursue her own life as a geisha. She was still an ally but didn't work for Lord Yagi anymore.

"A close friend of Kayama's was found dead." Lord Yagi said, and the air stilled.

Sasaki dropped a small glass bottle onto the table. It was two-thirds empty, but a dark brown and somewhat viscous liquid was still inside. "This was found inside her kimono. The last place she had worked was at the Kageyuri, Chisaki's tea house."

Shouta picked up the bottle and inspected the liquid in it. It was familiar but not overly so.

"It's laudanum." Lord Yagi spoke up. There was no hesitance or doubt in his tone.

Shouta nodded. "Was she sick?" He glanced to Nezu, who shook his head.

"Not as far as Kayama knew." He elaborated.

Shouta understood then that this wasn't a simple mission. He needed to figure out what was going on inside the Kageyuri. Chisaki Kai wasn't a simple target. The need for discretion explained why he was chosen as well. He was much less known than some of their other members, and he did his best work undercover and underground.

"Kayama has a way to get you inside." Lord Yagi said.

"I don't think I'd make a very good geisha." Shouta deadpanned as he placed the bottle back on the table, eyeing it suspiciously.

Lord Yagi laughed at his remark. "Don't be so sure." There was a little teasing in his Lord's tone before he continued. "She has a few options for you, but she wants to meet you first to review them."

"And once I'm inside?" Shouta asked.

There was a beat of silence before Lord Yagi answered. "…I trust your judgement on what must be done."

A toothy grin spread on Shouta's face. No restrictions, then.

#preview #mha #bnha #fanfiction #fanfic #wip #erasermic #aizawa shouta #eraserhead

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

Five Comfort Characters, Five Tags ~

Cyno (Genshin Impact). To absolutely no one's surprise. Cyno started as a character who I pursued purely for aesthetic reasons (general soft spot for white haired boys, the Egyptian theme tickled the history nerd in me, and he wears my favorite color palette) to much much more. Due to timing I could have never predicted, he became the medium through which I escaped my pain in a time of severe grief, and walked me through all of its stages to a place of acceptance and healing. Cyno took me by storm and has been my strongest muse for half a year now, completely monopolizing my brain and my blog. On top of that, he gives me an excuse to tap into my horrible sense of humor that was there long before he came by.

Saruhiko Fushimi (K Project). The OG muse of this blog and still a muse I hold dear (as I should, considering I had his face permanently carved into my skin three times now). Saruhiko is possibly the muse I relate to the most for reasons I do not wish to cutie-fy. Looking at him is a bit like peering into my younger self, with all the troubles of those years (some of which come back to haunt me again on occasion). He is a muse full of flaws that I love to portray for the crude and toxic things that they are, with no romanticization or excuses for it.

Sephiroth (Final Fantasy VII). Not a character I relate to by any stretch of the imagination, Sephiroth may come as a surprise at first. But it is thanks to my fascination with him that I am here, both online and in-real life. Were it not for FFVII, I would probably have never found the drive to learn to speak English, a choice which in itself led me to the hobby of online writing, and roleplaying, and even to move to the UK. Not everyone can tell the story of how a videogame changed their life so drastically, and it's safe to say I owe it all to this guy. As well as...

Red XIII (Final Fantasy VII). My favorite playable character in the game and of my favorite Final Fantasy race altogether, Red XIII and I grew up with a strong hatred for our father that was entirely misconstrued. It would be many years later that I would come to this realization, when I too came to terms that the man my mother always told me about was one painted by her own bias and resentment and did not reflect the truth. Unfortunately, just like for Nanaki, it was far too late for me to find closure, as he'd already passed away by then. For this reason I hold this cub close to my heart.

ZEN (Mystic Messenger). Since I've mentioned my mother, here comes the cherry on top (and what a beautiful cherry he is!). The story behind Zen's route resonated deeply with me, a survivor of narcissistic abuse at the hands of their own mother. Through Zen's eyes, I recognized my own deep-rooted anxiety and difficult family issues. Whenever those feelings come back to haunt me, I know I can find comfort in writing him to ease my own pain and fears. Zen was my main muse in the days of Facebook Messenger roleplay, for a good 2 and a half years, and I'm happy to say he's here to stay.

Tagged by: @shouga-nai (took forever, but here it is!)

Tagging: some multi-buddies! @starscrxssed, @mmriesoftvat, @azure-steel, @ofdraiocht, @maquiscursed

#00n || how do you even win at this? [dash games] #v01 || k project #v18 || Genshin Impact #au06 || four seasons [final fantasy vii] #v13 || mystic messenger #00A || Saru-mun is still alive! [OOC]

[renren-writes]

Honestly. i love how you’re so realistic about how Eunbyeol isn’t… the most likeable person ever. Like she has anger issues, problems, gets violent, etc, and it’s only because she has regression that her story has the possibility of a good ending

you don’t shy away from pointing out her flaws out instead of idk just painting that as “charming” because it’s your OC.

Don’t get me wrong, I love free dinner, but I only like Eunbyeol because it’s HER story. Like you said, original KimCo would want to get off the ride ASAP because of the gremlin.

thank you!! dont get me wrong, asshole characters have their own kind of charm for me - hell, friends introduce me to new series just from showing me the bastards alone - but what i like a lot about them is that it's not a kind of "aww how cute" or "haha so funny" kind of treatment. its why im not a big fan of the whole thing of "villain was actually a villain for sympathetic reasons in a prequel coming twenty years later in the series", trying to justify them while making them this quirky main character before they became a villain, and i wanted to try avoid that with eunbyeol. like hell yeah she's aggrssive and violent and has anger issues right now, and it's absolutely a product of her not taking care of herself, but we also know from the brief flashback in welcome prison that she's always been like this!! she didnt learn even after everyone turned against her!! her current best friend has spent the past two years trying to make her a semi-decent person, and he's only scratched the surface!!

not to mention i want her to have like. a win. i want her to realise things and grow as a person because while the scenarios is hell for some people and heaven for others, for eunbyeol it's her wake-up call. and regression is helping a lot with it! this round has had her realise how poorly she's treated aera in past regressions, especially the one where she got jealous (16th), and there's so much more to learn now that she's hitting that lowest of low points and i want her to acknowledge she's a bad person!! let my gremlin realise she's the bad guy!!

if eunbyeol had been in any other story, she'd undoubtedly be the villain. but in the context of her own story, she's the protagonist, not the hero, and i just like doing that for her (*´∀`*)

#ren speaks #it does help a little that eunbyeol started out as a way for me to vent #but back then i was ashamed of feeling the things she does #and i had a really bad habit of bottling things up until they'd burst out in a massive overexaggerated display #and i made that the norm for eunbyeol and decided hey #lets see how difficult it makes things for you #and i can get an outlet through you #and now that i'm a little better (not all the way but baby steps!!) #i can comfortably start to have her realise she's in the wrong for lashing out the way she does #and that to be treated with kindness means to give kindness in turn #that and goth man hot

[full-loup]

Big, Bad Krystal

More fat Krystal with an associated short story. This one featuring on my own take with her joining Star Wolf.

I always felt like her Command outfit was hideous and was wondering why Star Wolf doesn't have its own logo, so I rectified both issues.

Almost two full years had passed since Fox McCloud had kicked Krystal from Star Fox, concerned for his lover's safety. At the time, it had made sense to Fox, and he at least partially still believed it was the right decision. Unfortunately things didn't turn out at all as he had hoped, the vixen placing herself into danger anyways, taking mercenary jobs and eventually even teaming up with Star Wolf as though hoping to spite him for what he'd done.

After hearing of this, Fox had reached out to her and Star Wolf, the teams engaging in a rare joint effort to take down the newly forged Anglar Empire, a threat that had boiled out of the seas of Venom and drowned the Lylat system in the chaos of war. With Star Wolf's help, Fox managed to defeat the Anglar's forces. Unfortunately for Star Fox, Wolf had struck the final blow to their hideous Emperor, ending his reign of terror and making them heroes in the eyes of Corneria and its surrounding planets. Now with their main opposition out of the way, and much of the celebrations focusing upon their rivals, Fox had more than enough time to repair his shattered relationship. A shame, then, that Krystal didn't plan on making things easy for him.

She did not take well to his choice to remove her from the team. Not at all. He knew those feelings would change her, especially with all that time for them to stew and broil and worsen within the scorned woman. He just didn't expect those changes to be so... physical as well.

He had seen her briefly whenever she would comm him over his arwing's combat channels, but in the heat of battle and with her not desiring to keep said channels open long, he'd never got a good look at his former love. Other than that, the two had kept more to simple voice calls whenever they made contact, and while Fox had assumed she simply didn't wish to see the man who had broken her heart, he now realized things may have been more complex than that.

"Krystal!" Fox called out to rotund vulpine as she climbed less than gracefully out of her arwing, painted in the signature red of Wolf O'Donnel's mercs. His arms were held out wide in welcome as he struggled to hide the astonishment from his expression, failing for the most part, "You... You look different, but also great! New haircut!"

Turning to face him as she climbed down the ladder from her cockpit, Krystal glared at him. Fox's blood ran ice cold, knowing full well the both of them understood the vixen's hair was one of the only things that hadn't changed since they last met. She'd be able to read his true thoughts full well thanks to that damn telepathy of hers, making his comment doubly idiotic.

"Let me help you Fox. 'You've gotten fat', that's what you meant, isn't it?" The blue-furred pilot snarled, her belly leading the way as she  stomped over to him, "Let's just get it out of the way right now, right here why don't we? Or am I supposed to be as ashamed of my weight as you are?"

Fox's expression soured, his smile curling into a snarl of his own as he stepped up to meet his ex-lover and ex-teammate, "I thought you wanted to talk, but if you just want a fight? Just get back in that fighter and off my ship because we are not doing things like this."

The vixen's green eyes narrowed at that, a frown dimpling her chubby cheeks, "Kicking me out again already?" She said, before sighing and shaking her head, "But I can't pretend to be angry about that when I know how you really feel. Even now, beyond your... I'll just say it, disgust, I can tell that you still want this... Want us. More than..."

Not waiting for her to finish, Fox reached out his paws to hold Krystal's in his own, pulling her to him as he looked into her eyes, "More than anything else."

She blinked for a moment at him, then snorted, tugging her paws free and turning away, "Alright. We can try, but this time we need to be more honest with each other. Both of us do," She said as she grabbed her supplies from the arwing and began to make her way out of the hanger.

"Fine by me," Fox grumbled before calling out to her, "Why don't I start?! How long until you get back in shape?!"

A growl tore free from Krystal's lips as she stormed out the door, slamming her fist on the control before it slid shut.

For the next week or so, neither of the vulpines talked much, the Great Fox making its way back towards Corneria for the victory celebrations. The ship was large enough for the two to avoid each other, and Krystal had made it clear that she would need space for some time before she would warm up to the idea of talking things through with Fox. He was completely fine with that idea, especially after their fight in the hanger, and so did his best to give the vixen all the room she required. 

"All the space she needs? Smart move." Falco said, sitting across from Fox in the ship's canteen as he sipped his morning coffee.

Fox chuckled awkwardly, leaning back into his chair as he let the eggs he was eating through steam, "Yeah... and believe me, she needs plenty these days. Have you seen her since she got back?"

Falco gave Fox's chosen dish a brief glance, huffing to himself in disapproval before setting down his mug, "She hasn't been out of her room much, but uuhhh, kinda hard to miss her, haha. Wouldn't be so quick to blame her though, maybe that Panther guy has a thing for big girls?"

Without even realizing it, Fox's fists began to clench. He'd heard about the relationship between the two, and while Krystal had implied things didn't get too intimate between the two, he had no way to know for sure without coming out and asking her, and now really wasn't the best time for that. Add to this that Panther had made it clear that he was still carrying a flame for the vixen, despite her breaking things off to try and work things out with Fox, and just the mention of the feline set McCloud on edge.

Taking a deep breath, Fox let it out slowly as his fists relaxed and simply said, "The less said about him, the better Falco."

Falco chuckled and shook his head.

"What?"

"Well it's just, you know, you're gonna have to get over that quick Fox, you're gonna be having dinner with the guy."

Fox stared at the avian for a moment, "What do you mean?"

There was silence as Falco gulped, not sure how to continue, "Well... you know, the dinner after the awards ceremony? Slippy told me Krystal was going to eat with Star Wolf after, and, um... wants us to come I guess. I thought you kne-"

Fox slammed his fists onto the table, filling the canteen with the sound of breaking glass as knocked his plate and cup over the edge, silverware tumbling across the floor with a noise that made Falco's feathers stand on edge.

"She's going to WHAT?!"

Krystal stood in the doorway to her quarters, the portal only partially slid open as she stared daggers at the fox shouting at her, "I was invited Fox. I was still part of Star Wolf when the battle happened. Tell me how this is all a big deal?"

"Oh I don't know! Maybe because O'Donnell is scum? Because he hired the man who betrayed my father before taking a job from the man who killed my father to kill us? Because he continued to be a thorn in our side for years, even after we met! I really shouldn't have to explain all this!"

Sighing, Krystal rubbed her temples with her fingers as she responded, "And I shouldn't have to explain to you all the times he's decided to help us. The Aparoids, and now the Anglars? They've changed Fox, and Pigma's not even a part of Star Wolf anymore! They couldn't even stand him, and he's dead anyways! You bloody killed him! So why can't you put all of this behind you?"

Fox leaned in close, slamming his paw against the door frame and squeezing it tightly as he growled into Krystal's face, "If you really expect me to just sit there, sharing a meal with the likes of Wolf and..."

He stopped himself short, but it was too late. He cringed as he heard Krystal start to snort, holding back laughter.

"Panther? That's what all of this is about, isn't it? Amazing, Fox. Really."

The vulpine's face flushed beneath his red and white fur, his ears drooping as his eyes failed to meet the vixen's own, "You still never told me if he... if you..."

"Don't." She growled at him, "Don't you dare ask me that Fox... not after you kicked me to the curb. You don't have to come to the dinner if you want to, but yes, he will be there. So think about that before you decide to turn me down." She said, turning and giving him a view of her much wider backside. Her voluptuously chubby body was bulging within the confines of a dark purple flight suit with silver and black accents, and just before the door slide shut to her bedroom, Fox caught sight of the black leather jacket she wore over it, emblazoned with the Star Wolf logo.

He looked at the button for the intercom next to the door, then jammed his finger so hard against it he felt like he might break it, "Can you at least wear something else to the ceremony?"

Krystal's face flashed onto the intercom screen, the vixen sneering into the camera, "I can't actually, all my old suits don't fit, so get used to it flyboy." As her face disappeared, a red circle with a slash through the middle replaced it on the screen, letting Fox know she would not be disturbed further.

#fat furry #weight gain #fatfur

[lydiahosek]

Connection

[A few days late and much shorter than last year’s, but here’s my story for the @inklings-challenge! Thank you for hosting again!

And here’s the music which served as its inspiration: x]

The bridge between the two main modules was Val’s favorite part of the ship. It afforded a view of the landless landscape unencumbered by monitors or control panels or other emblems of their duties. It had been well drilled into her head at Basic that space travel was not all fun and games, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t any fun and games.

Well…maybe “fun” wasn’t the right word for the bridge. The feeling it brought her was quieter. Deeper. She felt lifted up and laid bare, as if confronted by the Real after filling the rest of the day with busywork. She had only before gotten that feeling at a handful of church services or from a very few pieces of music. Which was why at this moment she had brought her comm pad and earphones with her, to test the effect of the sight and the sound together.

Which was why she didn’t hear Connors approaching, indeed didn’t notice him at all until he was only a few feet to her left. She started and removed the earphones. “Connors,” she nodded.

“Munroe,” he nodded back, smiling. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up.” He held out to her an open foil bag. She turned her head to read the label. Block letters spelled “SEA SALT PITA C-” His hand covered the rest. Not standard issue, at any rate.

She took one SEA SALT PITA C, thanked him, and popped it into her mouth with a loud crunch. He gestured at the phones and the pad. “Transmission from home?”

“Uh, no, it’s, uh…’Clair de lune’.” She at first intended to dismiss the private concert as a personal frivolity, and maybe she would have if anyone else had found her here, but one did not need to act especially professional in front of a fellow first-timer dipping into his care packages. “I always think of it when I pass through here. Even though there’s not usually a moon.”

“Just about everything else, though,” He joined her in gazing out at the sea of stars and distant planets, asteroids and nebulae. “It…helps.”

Val quirked a brow. “Helps what?”

Connors hesitated, and Val was about to retract the question when he began: “I mean, I know we’re here to work and they do what they can to meet us halfway, provide some amenities and train us off of others, but they could at least not paint everything white.” Val thought of her own quarters. They had been permitted to bring a limited number of personal effects, and hers had included posters and photos, but they did little to overpower the stark, plain brightness of the walls, doors, floor, and bedding. He sighed. “I’ve been keeping track. It’s October on Earth, now. The trees’ll be changing color, and against the sky, it’s…kind of like that.” He pointed to a nebula on the far left, bright blue surrounded by a thick ring of green and gold.

Val looked at him. He had been away from home longer than she had – Earth was much farther from the training center than Juturna. All Juturnans could claim Earth ancestry, some as recent as two generations back, but her great-great-grandparents had been the last in her family to live there, breathe its air, see its trees against its sky. They recreated it as best they could for themselves and their descendants, but recently every other conversation with Connors revealed to Val something else that had gotten lost in translation.

She turned back to the view. “It sounds beautiful.” She cast about in her mind for something else to add. “I always love visiting the greenhouses back home. You can spend hours in the complex, it’s so huge, moving from biome to biome…Once when I was a kid I got lost in the deciduous room, but then I just kept walking in one direction, and I finally hit the wall and followed it back to the exit.”

He chuckled, then grew quiet, lowering his eyes. “You know what I always think of here?...How we can’t get lost. Even if all our navtech blew up.” An announcement went out over the intercom, but neither of them heard it. “Thousands of years ago sailors used the stars for guidance. And now we’re doing the same thing. We’re sailing through their map. I can’t get over that. It’s like…For all the manmade stuff everywhere else aboard, looking out at that I…” His voice became softer, stumbling. “I…feel the most human. The most…”

“Connection,” she supplied. They both turned from the window to see each other steeped in its blue glow. He offered her the bag again and she took another piece before they both turned back. Chewing slowly this time, she deactivated the earphones and hit play on the Debussy once more. They stood listening and watching as the piano and the stars shimmered across time and space.

Until, that is, Stephenson appeared in the doorway, telling Val that Boyers wanted the entire bio team to meet in the lab and hadn’t she heard the overhead?

As Stephenson disappeared back down the corridor, Val moved to follow her but stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “Connors.”

He looked at her for a second or two and smiled. “Arlo.”

She returned the smile and headed towards the lab.

#inklingschallenge #team lewis #explosion mention #genre: space travel #imagery: light #imagery: bread #story: complete #my writing #science fiction #short story #my ocs #connection

[tussie-mussie-trouble]

Now that I've had a few days to recover from what i just did to myself i can proudly announce- on a new blog because I don't want my main blogs being associated with this project because one of my lives greatest achievements really probably dosen't belong my incoherent screamings into the void.

On that note. I beat this freaking nanowrimo thing in like six days. no I did not mean to. a friend was coming to visit by the seventh and i PANICED on the last three days. I was already overdoing it, but the last three days were a freaking doozy.

Image description: a terrible little graph showing a brief upwards slide, then a little cha cha slide to the right as it evens out briefly, which depicted my first 4 days of nanowrimo, followed violently by an uppercutting-punch to the face line that has a little pop up window under it saying i reached 50,018 words by november the sixth.

So heres a fun little question and answers session made up of the questions I thought were most suited to this acheivement.

are you okay? my hand briefly went numb. Somehow I was under the impression a fifteen minute walk was all I needed to do to fix that- it wasen't. i kept writing anyways. I think i've mostly recovered now- but to answer your question I am undefeatable and also i slept for ten hours afterwards so I think I'm basically done recovering

what is the plot A victorian professor lady, a ghost with emotional issues, and a college age whole entire freaking lady who just got adopted against her will by this professor try to solve the mystery of why the ghost guy cant move on and how he died

what was the most hours you wrote during this

12

4. did you take a brea-

no. no i did not take a break.

and while obviously i'm not the fastest person to have ever beaten this challenge i'm feeling pretty good right now. : ) i've always wanted to be able to write novels really fast and that's been the biggest thing standing between me and writing *more* novels. you know?

and yes the specific 'part' of the victorian era I chose is in fact, none of them. that was intentional. theres a lot of great things in the victorian era and this isint even a one to one copy of it. theres no specific town this takes place in, theres no specific time period this takes place in. just vaugely 'victorian era' so I could shove all the ten thousand things i've researched into one little area. its probably not even really earth. so like, good disclaimer to put there. don't go into this expecting great historical accuracy. though most is based on some sort of thing i learned about this fabulous era of history (yes im aware of the horrors too, It's not as if I want to live in lead face paint land and eat little arsenic wafers for my complexion or something- I don't need to be reminded that humanity did not briefly free itself from all the evils of this world so that humanity could drink tea and say things like 'tussie-mussie' and wear hat pins- I just think the victorian era is neat)

so yes I'm very proud of myself rn and hope to blog about my blorbos here to keep myself wanting to edit this thing.

speaking of which. This thing i've done to myself is called Tussie-Mussie.

#nanowrimo #tussie-mussie #victorian era inspired #writing #nanowrimo 2023 #victorian era

[mizuta]

far from it to be my style to post about hashtag mental health issues on main but like. look. ive& been psychotic as far back as i can tangibly remember (hallucinating at 10-11, cognitive symptoms and episodes by 13-14). its been a part of my life so long that like... in a lot of ways im used to it and coping with symptoms and my life grew around a lot of the symptoms. like a tree trunk growing around a foreign object as a sapling. something that pierces directly through the middle but doesnt really impact the trees ability to stay alive in any meaningful way.

so like in a lot of ways im used to being in my own head. my partner is good at recognizing that things that are distressing to me in episodes dont process whatsoever as distressing to me a good chunk of the time. when im acting visibly distressed it actually means my level of distress is at like, 200%. its fucking unmanageable. if im visibly distressed its worse than anyone could conceptualize because typically otherwise im just numb to a lot of it or its just default my reality that its not distressing in any meaningful way until after the fact.

but like im ngl just because ive spent all of my teenage years upwards trying to take up literally the least space possible to exist and never show 80% of my "unacceptable" symptoms to 99% of people does not mean it makes it any less uncomfortable or awkward to like. be the token psychotic in some groups. to have to be the buzzkill and shit thats like hey sorry heres my hyperspecific request of the year because im fucking insane.

its miserable in a fresh new way of like sorry to have to remind everyone that its not actually a funny character quirk or joke my brain literally does not exist in your 'reality' in any meaningful way and the further outside of it i am on a given day the more unpleasant youre going to find me to be around. ignoring the insane person talking aimlessly in public doesnt actually help me it usually just reinforces that youre not real and never will be if its a bad enough day.

its never intentional. like nobody is ever doing this on purpose. especially again because i spent so much of my life being very good at hiding it. but like... it sucks so much to be masking half the time and be a little too good at it so when you stop being able to people are always levels of uncomfortable or upset. it sucks when you cant articulate anything properly and nobody really knows how to understand what youre asking for. it sucks when you have multiple severe memory conditions and cant trust your own memory and everyone immediately questions your memory when you ask for anything or point anything out. like of course im just going to fucking fold.

i dont know where im going with this or if this itself is even that coherent i know it sounds super vague but it really isnt about anyone specific im just babbling about like years worth of garbage. i got so fucked over by fakeclaiming culture because unfortunately when i started really displaying symptoms i was a teenager trying not to kill himself and being fucking insane loudly in virtual public when that was apparently an "obvious sign of exaggerating" so i had to learn to shut the fuck up and now everybody loves to forget how much im fucking unwell because god forbid you think too hard about what youre saying around others.

thank god for my partner who is literally the first person in my entire life whos ever tried to understand and genuinely knows how to talk to me when im in a particularly bad delusion or hallucinating or whatever.

man. im tired. i found out this last month i probably need to get a cane when i move out and i still feel like im going to be appropriating shit because severe knee and upper leg paint and severe balance problems cant be that bad. i hate having memory problems so bad that i so easily can be told that i dont know shit and Y is actually what happened and i usually cant actually argue against it even if im so sure thats not true.

#miles organizer #;kaz #this actually isnt really that bitter im just. talking. miserably. about psychosis. #i think i should be allowed to just be fucking insane in public and everybody should just have to deal with it and stop being uncomfortable #(thats kind of a joke im just sad.)