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lucyandthepen · 3 months

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last young renegade | jjh

summary: your valentine’s day plans with jaehyun may have gone down the drain just a little. (okay — a lot.)

pairing: jaehyun x reader verse: canon, idol!verse rating: t warnings&tags: reader & jaehyun are in an established relationship, quite frankly there is nothing too out of the ordinary in this fic which is a shocker, it’s a rewritten fic so pls excuse any errors I may not have caught! word count: 5.02k

a/n: happy 2024 friends and family !!!!!! and advanced happy birthday to the man who created valentine’s day, he who is perhaps my first love in nct, jaehyun! this is actually just a fic I’ve been hoping to re-write a bit from before, and since it’s valentine’s themed, what better time to post it!! Enjoy enjoy, and may this year bring more fun, laughs, love (and debauchery) to this blog!

Yᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ.

♡ jaehyunnie ♡ I know I said birthday dinner but practice is running so late ㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie ♡ Can we meet after? I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How about I call you when we’re done? Maybe 11:30?

At times like this, you often wonder if it’s all worth it.

You know thinking that way is counterproductive, not to mention a little unfair. You knew exactly what to expect, getting into an under-wraps relationship with an idol, and so far, it’s lived up to most of your assumptions, and then some. It doesn’t help that Jaehyun, even just by name, tends to attract an unbelievable amount of attention. You know you can’t blame him; it’s not like he wants to be high on the radar every time, either. For some reason, though, you seem to be looking for something or someone to blame, which you also know is a dead end. You have no one to pin the blame onto apart from yourself by frequently generating doubts that keep your mind running around in circles.

It’s not even the sneaking around that gets tiring; it’s the waiting — waiting on calls, waiting on free time, waiting on a good opportunity to do something that doesn’t involve him suddenly getting pulled out to attend to one of many of his celebrity responsibilities. Over the last few years that you’ve dated, NCT has only ever gotten more popular; with that popularity came the fact that the public eye was trained on them, focusing on every microscopic detail of their lives. Jaehyun hates that more than anything, which is why he’s given up on trying to avoid it by practically escaping it altogether, locking himself up in the dorm with you when he has his precious few days off.

While it’s true that you definitely don’t miss having to play espionage when going out for a cup of coffee with him, you’ve also managed to memorize every single inch of Jaehyun’s room, which isn’t good for your mentality, you’re pretty sure. You have to keep reminding him to open the window whenever the both of you are in there, because all you do is stay in and watch English movies without subtitles to see who can understand the most without asking questions (obviously, he always wins) while eating food he runs up and down the stairs to get every other hour. And while him trying to imitate the British accents on these shows is genuinely funny, you’re starting to suspect even he’s starting to get tired of watching Harry Potter over and over again. Twenty hours sounds like a long time unless you spend every twenty-hour period you have together marathoning the exact same films. Much to both of your disappointment, your suggestion to watch it totally out of order did not make it cooler.

Still, you suppose it’s not all bad. Jaehyun also taught you how to play Fortnite on a couple of his days off back to back, and while you hadn’t been as good a player as you both had hoped, he’d still patiently waited for you every time you got lost on the map. He’d even given you his account’s password with the sentiment that this was him ‘taking things to the next level with you,’ and you get to log into his account and play whenever you want; he doesn’t even get mad when you’ve wasted all the stuff he’s farmed on your subpar gaming skills. And, well, the bigger picture was that you loved him. Based on how much effort he put into the relationship, plus the bonus of his trust in you when it came to his Fortnite account, you could at least be confident in that he returned the sentiment.

Except, sometimes, you still wonder if it would be easier for the both of you if he flew solo and didn’t have a girlfriend that tanked all of his player’s ammo and health kits and generally made a fool out of his cute little avatar while he was out breaking his back onstage.

You aren’t sure if Jaehyun’s been noticing the turmoil in you; you’re not that good at hiding how you feel, anyway, but if he has, he hasn’t said anything thus far. You do observe how much more he texts you when he has free time, which makes you feel doubly bad, because you know that he’s spending precious minutes he could be resting with on talking to you instead, which isn’t the best trade-off for someone who’s constantly busy — and thereby constantly tired — like him.

♡ jaehyunnie♡ ___________ I’m going to practice again, okay? Wait for my call ㅠㅠ You I’ll wait for your call ♡ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ You love me too — a lot, right? I’ll keep my phone now, but I’ll make sure to check that you said so. ㅋㅋㅋ You Right! ㅎ I love you a lot! ♡

When the clock hits 12:01, and your phone is silent, your mind starts working on overtime again. It’s only when the special ringtone you’ve set for him comes to life at half-past midnight that you break your train of thought and put on your socks so you can meet Jaehyun at your front door.

You’ve made a rule — sort of like a deal — between the two of you that apologies aren’t necessary when work holds you up. You’ve cashed in on that deal a couple of times, but you’re both aware that it’s more for Jaehyun’s sake than anything else, and he keeps to his word on that much when you open the door and duck into his car. All he does is smile at you, and you smile back, and for the rest of the car ride, everything seems okay.

He always asks you about your day — unfailingly, at any chance he can. It’s never an off-handed question, either; Jaehyun takes great pride in his memory, and the sweetest thing about him is that he’s dedicated a good deal of it to knowing almost everything about you. Right now is no different. He asks you about your team manager, what you had for lunch; he grills you on if you took your vitamins today and if you got to break in the new shoes you bought online — the ones you’d been pining over for the last three months. He even asks you about the guy from the neighboring department who keeps asking you out for after-work drinks.

“He wanted to go to Hongdae tonight,” you tell him as he slows for a red light. “There’s some new pub of his friend’s doing a soft opening there tonight.”

“You could have gone.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“Good.” He glances at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Because I lied. I might have minded a little. Or, you know, a lot.”

“Don’t tell me after all these years, you’ve turned into the kind of boyfriend that doesn’t let his girlfriend go out without him.”

“That’s impossible for me, and you know that,” he chuckles. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just not with that guy from the other department.”

“Don’t worry.” You tinker with the little charm dangling on your phone — half of a flat, metal heart dangling from a gold chain that Jaehyun had given you two years back on your birthday. He keeps the other half, but since he can’t freely attach it to any of his belongings, he keeps it wedged between the back of his phone and its case. You like watching him change the backing because he does it so carefully, like he’s worried the other half of the heart is going to break if he rips off the case willy nilly. “I told him my boyfriend and I were going out on a date tonight, so he backed off. Although he did wonder why I keep talking about a boyfriend he’s never seen.”

“And? What did you say?”

“I said it was none of his damn business.”

Jaehyun laughs loudly, and you go along with him, but you don’t miss how tired he looks when he sobers down, the green light illuminating all the shadows on his face as he steps on the gas again.

Nothing good is open this late at night — that is, nothing you haven’t seen before. You hadn’t even expected to go out at all, but since it was the day before Valentine’s Day as well as his birthday (or it would have been, if you hadn’t waited until midnight), Jaehyun had wanted to do something special without having to run into a huge crowd of couples on the day itself. Your only option is this from-out-of-town carnival that’s set up in tents and even has a medium-sized ferris wheel by the edge of the metal barricade. The parking lot is practically empty when Jaehyun pulls into a slot; you joke that he should break one rule and park in two slots, which he smugly replies to by saying he couldn’t park badly even if he tried.

He tucks your hair back behind your ears as he loops the strings of a face mask around them, using another one for himself. Between that and the brim of his cap, you can barely see his eyes. The only knowledge that you have that you’re walking next to the man you love is that he takes your hand in his, slender fingers finding their way between yours.

The carnival is half-closed when you get to the middle of it; there are still a few stragglers, but half the kiosks have their lights off already. There’s a woman dressed in flashy clothes standing on a patch of dead grass a few feet away, and she’s holding a hoop that a ginger cat is jumping through. Jaehyun steers you to them, and you stand there for a good five minute watching the cat roll on the ground and stand on its hind legs, but you can tell it’s been going it at for most of the day because at one point, it just ignores the lady, opting to weave its way between Jaehyun’s and your legs instead. You do have a pretty good time when he picks it up and cradles it in his arms so you can pet it for a second, but it just hisses when its owner approaches and jumps out of his hold, disappearing behind a row of trash bins.

Jaehyun doesn’t have anything in his wallet apart from his credit cards and 50,000 won, and the coin machine operator says he only has enough coins left to break down 5,000 won for the games, so you end up having to jog back to his car so you can fish out some coins from inside his glove compartment. You come up with a grand total of 1,500 won, and you have to sheepishly go back to the coin machine operator to change four 100 coins and a couple of 50s just to get the last 500. Jaehyun tells you to hold onto the three coins so he doesn’t run off with them entirely and leave you destitute.

You learn you can only do three things at most — you dedicate 500 won for the Ferris wheel entry tickets, which leaves you with 500 won each. The both of you agree on choosing one kiosk to play in, and with only about five left that are open, you don’t really have that many options. You end up dragging Jaehyun over to a stall with a pond filled with those magnetic toy fish, but 500 won only gets you one fishing rod. Since it’s your choice, Jaehyun lets you play, but you feel kind of stupid doing it on your own with him just watching you. In the end, he decides to stand behind you, his arms around your waist like he thinks closer contact isn’t even more distracting. You do manage to fish out 10 fish and win a small bear on a keychain. It doesn’t even pass through your hands as Jaehyun takes it from the stall operator immediately.

“That’s mine!” You whine, reaching out in vain to take it from him; he just holds it high over his head. His eyes are twinkling under the shadow his cap casts over his face. “I worked hard for that.”

“Let me keep this one,” he mimics the pleading lilt in your voice. “I’ll put it on my bag.”

“You know you can’t! Give it back.”

“I’ll win you a bigger one,” he promises. “Let me keep this one. It’s cute. It reminds me of you. I’ll kiss it goodnight before I sleep.” He starts to laugh softly. “And then you’ll feel this weird spirit kissing you at like two in the morning, and you’ll know it’s me.”

Your arms aren’t long enough to retrieve it, and you don’t really want to, so you settle with twisting his ear. He takes it in stride even if he over-acts, making pained noises while leading you to the kiosk he wants to go to. It’s a shooting range stall, and he pays his own precious 500 won for a dart gun. He’s barely paying attention when the guy starts explaining how many points are assigned to each balloon color, more concerned with talking to the bear keychain in his hand and pretending like he’s cooing at you. You have to hit him across the shoulder to get him to focus.

“You need to start picking out what prize you want,” he tells you — the actual you, not the animal keychain version — as he lifts the dart gun.

“I’ll wait for you to finish first.”

“No way.” He tilts his head, closing one eye to steady his line of sight. “Pick already. Or just go for the biggest one.”

“You know that Fortnite and dart guns aren’t the same thing, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m well-motivated.” He grins at you, one eye still shut. He looks like a baby pirate. “Go ahead. Pick the biggest one.”

“Why don’t you just shoot, and we’ll see.”

“Pick it,” he insists. “Tell me you have faith in me. Tell me you love me.”

“Okay, I love you,” you agree. “But I have no faith in you when it comes to this.”

“One out of two is fine,” he concedes, taking aim.

All three of you, including the stall operator, let out a disappointed groan when he misses his first shot. His comes with a sheepish laugh as he reloads, suddenly telling you to pick the second biggest prize instead. You can’t even watch him miss over and over, so you pretend to be interested in a bunch of teenage boys playing a game of cups one stall over, trying not to giggle when you hear him get increasingly more frustrated at himself. When you turn back around, you notice he’s holding two small pieces of gummy candy, offering one to you like a kindergartener. He helps you tug your face mask down so you can eat it.

There’s a food stall nearby that, thankfully, accepts credit and debit; Jaehyun fishes out his card to get you a corndog — only one because he’s watching his weight for the upcoming concert, apparently. This is information you hate hearing but have no say in, and he knows this; you know he does because he says ‘don’t worry about me’ totally out of the blue, like five minutes after the conversation ceases to be relevant.

His phone starts ringing when the food comes out, and he takes a tiny bite of it — more bread than hotdog — before he answers. You know it’s Taeyong by the way he answers.

“Hyung, sorry — can we talk later? I’m out with ____________.”

Taeyong says something loud but indiscernible on the other end. You piece together that it’s about tomorrow’s schedule when Jaehyun speaks again.

“I know. I’ll be home in a bit; don’t worry about it. I haven’t forgotten.”

There’s more garbled speech on the other line; Jaehyun gestures for you to keep eating, and you do, but you more concerned with the morphing expressions on his face than you are with the act of chewing. He’s making noncommittal noises in response to what seem to be commands and reminders. You’re pretty much done with the corndog by the time he says ‘Okay, hyung. Hyung — I’ll see you later, okay?’

“Taeyong hyung says hi,” he tells you once he’s hung up the phone. “He says you still need to give back that book you borrowed from him last year.”

“Oh yeah,” you finish off the last of the food. “I’ll drop it off within the week.”

“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t actually mean it.”

Jaehyun watches you snap the stick in half and toss it in the trash bag.

“We can go home,” you say finally. His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re busy tomorrow. I forgot.”

“I didn’t forget, and it’s fine.”

“It’s almost two in the morning.” You check your phone to verify. “You probably have to be up in a few hours. You need to sleep, or you’ll die, Jaehyun. I’m too young to be a grieving widow.”

“Let’s at least ride the Ferris wheel,” he suggests. Before you can protest, he tugs you towards the rickety contraption, digging the 500 won out of your pocket and handing it to the bemused operator. He lets you choose what carriage you want because literally no one is on it anymore, and Jaehyun asks for the best carriage. You’re not sure how it differs from the rest, but he makes a show out of guiding you into it, and you don’t miss the corny ‘my lady,’ he mutters under his breath.

It’s small, clearly meant for either a tiny group of children or couples who want to be as close together as possible. It’s also not air-conditioned, and only one of the windows is open, so you end up sticking to Jaehyun’s arm on the way up. The view is still great, though, and you feel his hand settle on your knee as the carriage makes it slow ascent.

The ride up is quiet, and you press your face as close to the glass of the carriage as you dare, but Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. His hand is still heavy on your thigh, but it doesn’t do anything but lay there. When you’re close to the top, you’re hit with the urge to do something romantic — kiss, maybe, tell him happy birthday, or say ‘I love you’ to him in the most sickening way possible — but when you turn to look at him, you have to hold your tongue.

Jaehyun is asleep, leaning against the corner of the carriage, head tilted down a little. His shoulders are rising and falling slowly, and he’s pulled down his face mask a little so he can breathe better; his lips are slightly parted by the slackening of his jaw. His left hand is shoved in his pocket, like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something in there.

He doesn’t wake even when you move slightly so you can lean back next to him, rocking the carriage a little — not even when you reach up and adjust his head so he can rest on your shoulder. He breathes deeply, evenly, and you wonder if his ear against your shoulder allows him to hear your heart plummet unfairly to the bottom of your stomach.

You have to shake him to rouse him when the ride comes to an end; when he opens his eyes and realizes what happened, he looks mortified. Instinctively, he opens his mouth, but you fling the carriage door open and step out before he can apologize.

You have a deal, and he knows what he shouldn’t be doing.

His grip on your hand is much tighter as you walk back to the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go, even on the road. The trip back is quieter, maybe because it’s late, or maybe because there are a ton of things the both of you want to say but can’t.

He slows down when he gets to your street, but when he stops in front of your building, he doesn’t immediately unlock the doors to let you out. Instead, he turns to you, licking his lips a little nervously.

“Can you…” he clears his throat because his voice cracks a little on the first attempt. “Can you come back with me? To the dorm?”

“I have work tomorrow, Jaehyun.”

“It’s still at eleven, isn’t it? I can bring you home before that. You still have some stuff in my room. You can get ready there.”

“Won’t you be too busy?”

“Just—” he sighs softly. “Can you? Please?”

You don’t know how to say no to Jaehyun, and tonight isn’t a night you’re willing to try. It’s why fifteen minutes later, you’re walking through the front door of his dorm. Donghyuck, sitting at his computer in his room with the door ajar, greets you sleepily as you pass by.

Jaehyun steps in the shower with you; you don’t talk, maybe because you’re worried you might wake the others up if you start a full-blown conversation in a bathroom surrounded by other bedrooms. He just passes you what you need, and you do the same for him, and somewhere in between, he kisses you under the spray of the water.

Later, he falls asleep with a face mask on, and you have to peel it off for him and toss it into the trash. The tip of his nose is shiny, and you want to kiss it, but you know it’ll wake him, and you noticed he’d set his alarm to go off two hours from now. He’s set out a couple of earplugs for you so that you don’t hear it, but you don’t put them in. You want to see him before he leaves, even if it’s in the deadest hours of morning, so you just crawl into bed with him. A minute before you doze off, you feel his damp skin press against your neck, his form curled up against your back.

The alarm never wakes you; the sun is out when you open your eyes, and when you check your phone, you see that it’s already half-past nine. You also notice that there’s nothing from Jaehyun on your screen, but you try not to dwell on that, considering that you’d been expecting to wake up to an empty bed. His side of the mattress is cold, which means that he’s been gone for some time.

You don’t know if it’s just because you’re groggy, but your insides still feel like lead when you sit up. The part of you that nags about this relationship is back at full force when you start thinking about Jaehyun going to a pre-recording two hours after spending the last of his energy on you. You start wondering if you’re doing the right thing if it feels like you’re just dragging him down. Your heart clenches tightly when the worst thought hits — maybe, just maybe, he’s tired of you, too.

But you won’t let him go. More to the point — you can’t. He’s the best part of your life; it’d be a cold day in hell if you decided to leave him.

Even the thought of it makes you feel like dying.

Then again, this isn’t all up to you.

You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and maybe a couple of frustrated tears — when the door creaks open. You see two mugs and his hands before you see the rest of him come through the doorway. Jaehyun whispers a careful good morning as he sets the coffee down on his table, making sure to push his keyboard away to avoid accidents, before sitting down next to you. You notice that there’s an envelope next to one of the mugs; the flap is slightly open, and from under it, a flash of red peeks out.

His hand finds its way back to your knee — it’s his favorite resting place, he’s told you once. Your lap feels like home, he’d joked. Maybe he touches it every so often because it’s like a reset button for him.

He doesn’t ask if you slept well, or if you want to get ready before having your coffee, or if you’re okay. He just squeezes your knee a little tighter. It’s you that has to start the conversation this time.

“How did it go?”

“It went great. You’ll see it on TV later tonight,” he starts rubbing your thigh idly. “You’ll watch it later, right?”

“Of course. I’ll call you and tell you how cool you look.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. When you lapse into silence again, it’s because you’re expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t come out with it directly. You try not to let it show that you’re worried, that you’re skeptical, that you’re wondering if he thinks he’s too tired, too busy for this, too.

You’re expecting him to start how most break-ups start. You know I love you, right? And then the telltale but… would come, and you would have to hold back your tears and smile for him, and tell him you know, and that you understand it isn’t the right time, but maybe one day, someday, when he isn’t everyone’s Jung Jaehyun anymore — only yours.

“You love me, right?”

It’s not what you’d been expecting. Nor is it the playful little text he’d sent — no laughs, no jokes. His expression is somber, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You know I do.”

“A lot, right?”

“A lot,” you confirm softly.

“Then whatever it is that you’re thinking about us,” he says quietly. “Don’t. Don’t think it. Don’t do it.”

“Jaehyun—”

“I know it’s hard,” his fingers dig into your skin a little. “I know I put you through a lot. I know you think that I’m suffering because of this relationship too. I know everything. But whatever you think I’m going to do, I won’t do it — not ever. So if you’re thinking of it too, I’m begging you. Don’t. Please.”

Maybe he had noticed all this time. A wave of guilt washes over you when you see the pained look on his face; perhaps you were even more transparent than you’d originally thought. You nod slowly to show your understanding, and he continues.

“I know yesterday wasn’t the best you could have hoped for,” he carefully avoids apologizing, although it’s written all over his features. “For me, too. I… I wanted something different. It’ll be better next time. Do you believe me?”

You hear him swallow — his nails are biting into your thigh a little, so you have to gently peel his hand off. Your fingers replace it, tightening around his palm as you nod.

“I believe you.”

“And you trust me, right?”

“With my life.”

“Then can you put your faith in me right now?” He asks. “Don’t panic. Just — just say yes.”

He pats around his pants, finally deciding to slip his hand into his left-hand pocket. Unlike on the Ferris wheel, he manages to extract something, but he keeps it closed in his fist. It’s shaking a little as he takes your hand in his other one, pressing something small and hard into your palm before he curls your fingers over it. His hold keeps your fist closed as he starts talking.

“It’s not immediate. We’ll figure it out. We’ll tell the right people, and they’ll help us tell everyone else — the public, the press. It doesn’t have to happen right now, or any time soon either— not if you don’t want it to. We can take it slow, or whatever. Anything you want — just as long as it’s with me.”

“Jaehyun,” you shake your head, a little dizzy. “What are you talking about?”

He slowly loosens his hold on your fingers, his hand dropping to the same spot on your knee. You’re free to open your fist, and when you do, you can’t help but feel a little stumped.

“I don’t mean now,” he repeats, now sounding doubly worried. “It’s not — It’s just…”

“You’ll get in trouble. We can’t.”

“I won’t. Not if we do this right. Like I said, we can do it slowly. Months — years, however long it takes to do it well. What it is — it’s just… a promise.”

“A promise,” you echo. It does have a nice ring to it.

“That I’m not leaving you. Not ever. And… if you say yes, that you won’t either.”

Your coffee has probably turned cold. Jaehyun is watching you carefully, looking like he’s trying hard not to bite his lip. You look back down at your hand, and he speaks up again.

“You know I love you, right?”

You smile slightly. “No but?”

“No but,” he agrees.

The ring fits nicely on your finger; maybe it’s well-measured from the amount of times he’s held your hand tightly in his.

“Okay, Jaehyun,” you whisper. “I promise.”

When you place your hand on his, he twists his palm, slender fingers gently twirling the ring around the base of your finger.

Minutes later, he hands you your coffee. It’s sweet and milky, the way he knows you like it best. When he settles back down on the bed, you notice his eyes travel to your finger again, a small smile playing on his lips.

Perhaps, in this moment, you finally learn to ask the right questions — not about if it’s worth it, but if he is.

And in this moment, where he sits in silence with you, the sunlight pouring in from his window hitting the tips of his hair and the end of his nose, with the knowledge that his heart is as full as yours, you come to realize that there can — and never will be — any doubt of that.

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freshbakedbreadstick · 10 months

Text

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter One

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: You finally grab the bear by its ears and face it head on, despite all the unanswered questions.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of self harm, grief, death, mental health issues, strained relationships, smoking.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: OMG thank you all for all the kind words and love ! ! ! I'm gonna b honest with you all, after i posted the prologue I completely logged out of my account for the week LOL I was SO nervous abt it and so I just left it alone 😭 but I'm back with the first official chapter ! Also, I am opening the taglist for this series, so please let me know if you want to be tagged ! Thank you to one of you lovely readers for asking about that ❤️ your comment was very appreciate bc tbh I completely forgot abt even considering making one 💀 thank u babes ily and I hope you all enjoy !!!

Taglist: @marysucks-blog

PROLOGUE / MASTERLIST

The rumble and honk of a car driving quickly down the street took you out of your thoughts.

Here you were, once again, on the sidewalk and across the street from The Beef. This time, it was not some odd hour of the night but rather 4 o'clock in the evening.

After tossing and turning all night long, you rose early that morning much to the insistence of your mom and dad, who were very much eager to get you to reunite with Natalie, with bags under your eyes and stiff joints. You trudged around the house, jumping at every small noise that somewhat resembled the notification sound of your phone, before finally giving up and plopping down on the sofa to send Sugar a text.

'Hi Sugar, it's me. Nice to talk to you again. I'll swing by The Beef at around 4 if that's okay with you.'

About 5 minutes later, a loud buzz made you drop a glass of water to the floor.

'Of course! I'm so happy to hear from you! I can't wait (:'

You could feel a pit forming in your stomach as you read the message. You can practically hear the way her voice lifts in excitement as you read it. To make matters worse, the smiley face felt like it had a mind of its own and it was taunting you. It practically said 'Remember the good days? Remember how close you and Sugar were? Before everything happened?'

With a shallow breath, you threw your phone onto the nearest soft surface and scooped the broken glass up with your bare hands.

Your parents fussed around you all afternoon before you left. At first, they said it was to make sure you were okay with going over there but it became pretty clear that they were pretty much just making sure you weren't going to back out. While you understood why they were chasing you around like a chick chased their mother hen, you got tired of it really quickly.

"Mom, I'm serious, I'm okay!" You insisted, pulling your shoe on and pausing at the threshold of the front door.

"Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you? How about you let us drive you-"

"I'm fine!! I'm going now!"

With a sigh, your mother glances at your father before nodding, "Alright honey, be safe."

With a weak smile, you headed off.

And now here you were, finding yourself halfway down the street and being honked at by someone in their car.

Snapping back to the present after replaying your hectic morning, you jump at the realization that you were unconsciously halfway across the street and heading towards The Beef.

"GET OUT THE WAY!" The person in the car yelled, sticking their head out the window.

You ran to the sidewalk and half slammed your body against the wall, chest heaving. You had no idea what took over you and made you move without thinking but here you are now, in front of the same place you vowed to never be at again after Mikey's death: The Beef.

"Fuck…" you murmured to yourself, trying desperately to catch your breath as you closed your eyes.

Focusing on the sounds of tires on pavement and rustling leaves on trees, you took a breath. You counted from 1 to 100 and then back to 1 again. You then opened your eyes and counted 5 things you could see, 4 things you could touch…

With a hard swallow, you turned around, ready to walk to the front door now. It was past 4 now but from the messages you got earlier from Sugar, you knew that there was 'no rush' and to just 'come in the front door'.

"I can do this, I can do this…" you whispered to yourself and lightly jumped in place, hyping yourself up.

You pushed forward, rounding the corner of the wall and to the front door, when BAM! Some guy just slams into you.

You fly backward, stumbling as you try your hardest to avoid falling onto the pavement.

"Watch it, idiot!" Some guy in a high vis vest barks at you before marching away with a wrapped sandwich in his hand.

You stare, mouth open in silent shock and confusion, unable to respond. If this guy had bumped into you about a year ago, you would have practically beat him up yourself. Mikey would've had to come out of the restaurant and drag you off the guy, laughing and cheering all the way. His strong arms would wrap around you and somehow lift you up and off, voice husky in your ear as he alternates between voicing good humored apologies to the guy who had the misfortune of being an asshole to you and murmuring about how hot you looked while you defended yourself.

But in this moment, all you could do was regain the little confidence you had and go back to the task at hand: walking in.

You swallow before standing up straight, plastering on a faux confident but cool grin onto your face. With your head held high in a way that you used to do but doesn't feel like you anymore, you jam a fist into your pocket and use your other free hand to push the front door open and waltz in.

Cooly, you scan the empty restaurant. It seems like the lunch rush was very much over by now and the last customer for a while before the dinner rush had crashed into you and left moments before. So now, it was just you and The Beef.

"Give me one sec!" A loud and charmingly obnoxious voice yelled from the kitchen.

Your facade slipped as you heard this voice. Instantly, your shoulders sagged as you let out a quiet but pained laugh under your breath.

The booming voice of Richie got louder and louder as he came out of the kitchen and to the counter, "How can I help you-"

He paused. You immediately stood up straight again, a wide and sly but fake grin spreading over your face.

Richie blinked, frozen. His eyes were wide and mouth had dropped slightly open.

After a couple seconds, the awkwardness started to set in for you, prompting you to speak up, "Jesus, Richie, you look like you've seen a ghost."

In an instant, Richie snapped back to reality with a grin on his face, "COUSIN!"

You winced at the volume, apparently not being the only one as you heard a couple muffled groans and protests from the kitchen as well as someone saying "what?!"

Richie threw his arms out, wide, before dropping them and racing around the counter to you. With a laugh, Richie's arms enveloped you, squeezing tight.

You stiffened up immediately, feeling bad for not reciprocating instantly like you used to do. But whether or not that bothered Richie, you would never know because as fast as he enveloped you in a hug, he pulled away.

"Cousin, what the hell are you doing this side of the country, huh?!" He grinned and placed his hands on his hips.

"Oh my gosh!" Another voice said.

Your head whipped to see Sugar at the doorway to the kitchen. She clutched a clipboard in her arms but as both of your eyes connected, she let it fall to the floor with a clatter.

You can see her eyes well with tears as she raced around the counter to join you and Richie and as she got closer, she blinked them away. A wary smile appeared on her lips as she stood next to you, making her look a cross between nervous and relieved.

"Richie, give her some space. Oh my gosh, hi!!" Natalie gasped.

You winced a bit and smiled, "Hey…"

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there forever.

"Shit cousin, I had no idea you were coming here! If you let us know beforehand, we could've made you a welcome party or, or, or something!" Richie said, ignoring Natalie.

"How the hell have you been? How was it out west? I heard you got back in town but had no clue you were coming over here to visit!" Richie continued, going on and on and on.

You stared at him, eyeing the way he looked rugged and much more tired than usual. But Richie was the same old Richie, loud and brash but caring when he wanted to be.

Your eyes wandered from Richie's frame over to Natalie, who seemed to be analyzing your body silently. Her eyes were filled with worry and her fingers rapidly intertwined with themselves as she gave you a look that meant to say, 'Is this okay? Are you okay?'

You glance back at Richie before your eyes fell behind the two and to the entrance of the kitchen where a crowd had formed.

And in front of that crowd was Carmy.

Your shoulders tensed up, visibly enough to make Natalie perk up and whip her head around to see what you were staring at and make Richie go silent. The two glanced at Carmy and, unbeknownst to you, gave him a look of warning.

Carmy wiped his hands on the towel he had and stared back, silent. His body language was unreadable and you couldn't tell whether or not he was upset at seeing you. Either way, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand.

"Carmy…" you said, voice hoarse.

You cleared your throat and awkwardly nodded, acknowledging those around him. You recognized a couple faces and others seemed unfamiliar but either way, they all looked at you with curious and cautious eyes.

After stewing in silence for a bit, Sugar spoke up, "Carmy… say hello".

Carmy blinked, eyes still set on you making you feel pinned to the spot. You could feel your breakfast swirl in your stomach as his eyes glared into you, analyzing your every move. Finally, he nodded and turned around, making the crowd behind him part like the red sea as he moved back into the kitchen.

Suddenly, another face appeared in the doorway of the kitchen before yelling out your name excitedly. Fak came racing out of the kitchen, following the same path that Richie and Natalie took, before stopping in front of you.

"Holy shit!," he exclaimed happily, "Your home!"

Your shoulder sagged.

Home.

You were home.

He giggled to himself, not at all noticing your reaction "I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?"

"Jesus man, give her some space she just arrived," Richie began, already launching into an argument.

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine!" Fak said, head snapping over to Richie before the two began to bicker.

Natalie rolled her eyes at them and turned to you, still concerned, "Just ignore them. Are you okay, sweetie?"

You stood up straight again, wiping the wide eyed expression you didn't even know you had on your face for one with a lazy smile, "Yea, I'm okay."

She reached her arm out, hesitating for a second to see if you would reject her, before resting her hand on your forearm when you seemed okay with it. She gently ushered you around the bickering men and behind the counter, to the kitchen. The crowd watching dispersed with curious eyes and kind smiles from those you recognized, letting you two pass through.

As you walked through the kitchen, gulping as your eyes retraced each corner and crevice you had tried to forget about, your eyes stopped briefly to look at Carmy. With his back towards you, he silently chopped some vegetables, seemingly ignoring what was happening around him.

"Here we are," Sugar said, quietly announcing to you to get your attention.

You turned and dug your heels into the ground, soles squeaking as you did so. Sugar jumped back and glanced at you.

"Can we… I'd rather we talk outside." You announce, voice wavering in a way that made your previous confident persona waver.

Right in front of you stood the door to the office; an office you were very much familiar with as you too had spent many times there. All those memories, all bittersweet at this point, came rushing back; the nights you spent arguing over bills and paperwork with Mikey, the days you came with a bag of donuts from your favorite shop nearby, the intimate moments where your and his lips connected behind the closed door, the moments in which you hid in the office and cried your heart out.

Sugar noticed the way your eyes had become misty and promptly led you to the back door of the kitchen and to the alleyway.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that's okay. We can talk here.” she said soothingly.

Her voice was so comforting, making you feel nauseous. You hated the way that Sugar would always act very motherly, even when you were all kids.

With a shaky breath, you nodded and smiled anxiously, “I'm okay Sugar, you don’t need to worry.”

Glancing at you, Sugar smiled softly. But her smile quickly dropped when she scanned your features, taking in your face again.

“You look,” she began quietly, “You look good.”

You chuckled to yourself, knowing damn well that she was wrong, “Thanks, you too.”

Richie bursts out the back door, with Fak in town, still bickering.

“My God you two, just stop!” Sugar yells, getting the two to finally snap their mouths shut.

Fak playfully salutes Sugar, a knowing look on his face while Richie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Yea whatever. I’m just happy to see you again, cousin.” Richie says, directing his body to you, with a tone of softness in his voice that felt so foreign that it made you shiver.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said softly, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

It was silent for a bit as the four of you all glanced at one another, unsure where to start and what to say. Each party had so much they wanted to say to each other at that moment, but you knew that the three people standing before you had the most to say to you.

Carmy came out the back door, silent and unsurprised to see the four of you glance in his direction. He closed the door behind him and stood off to the side, away from all of you. He then proceeded to take out a pack and light a cigarette, quietly puffing.

“Cousin, did you even say hello? It’s rude as hell to just ignore her,” Richie said, a bit agitated at his dismissive behavior.

Yet Carmy ignored him, staring out to the side and away from you all, his blue eyes flickering, but refusing to even glance in your direction.

You could feel your eyes prickle and your throat tighten, regretting even showing up. Carmy was the one person you haven't seen the longest and here he was, ignoring you as if you didn’t even exist.

“Hey,” Richie barked, taking you out of your thoughts, “At least look at her!”

Richie began to stomp forward to Carmy, making you and Sugar flinch as you watched. Fak moved forward, reaching out to Richie and mumbling quietly to get him to stop. Right before Richie could grab Carmy by the shoulder, Carmy spoke up.

“I’m glad you're okay.”

Your mouth dried up.

His eyes turned to you and all you could see in them was pained understanding. He knew you weren’t okay; an okay person wouldn’t just pack up and leave the night after her boyfriend’s funeral. But, he saw that you were alive and the fact that you showed up here after so long meant something.

It meant that now you were okay.

“Thanks Carmy” you said, making everyone’s head turn to you.

Richie rocked his jaw and nodded silently, stepping back from Carmy.

The three of them watched as Carmy lifted his box of cigarettes and offered one to you. They then watched as you walked forward, arms that had wrapped around your body falling, to grab one. He fished his worn lighter from his pocket, carefully lighting the cig you held around your lips for you, before pocketing it and leaning back against the wall.

You take a deep drag, letting the nicotine smoke fill your lungs before exhaling. It soothed your nerves, reminding you of the moments that you spent outside with Carmy, avoiding the yells from inside the house during a Berzatto family event.

Suddenly, a deep funny feeling began to strew about in your belly. It felt odd and you tried to suppress it, but you just couldn’t help it. You barked out a laugh.

It surprised you and everyone, not at all expecting it. You felt your cheeks heat up, horrified as to why you just laughed.

You breathed in, only for it to come out as another laugh. Your horror was then replaced with amusement, making you laugh even harder.

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all averted their gazes, a mixture of remorse and shame written all over their faces.

You laughed even harder, slamming your back against the wall before sliding into a crouch. Your body shook so hard as you laughed, barely able to keep the cigarette between your fingers.

Carmy looked away, an empty look on his face as he too chuckled to himself.

After laughing so much that your belly began to hurt, you finally spoke up between dissolving giggles, “What the fuck am i even doing here!?”

Natalie turned her back to everyone, clutching her body in her arms. Fak walked forward and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even look at him as he hooked one of his arms under your arm and helped you up from the floor to stand against the wall again. Your knees buckled slightly as you continued giggling and wheezing in an attempt to catch your breath.

Fak stepped back and sighed softly, watching your chest heave as your breathing began to stabilize.

An uncomfortable silence fell as you caught your breath, leaving the four of you in limbo to listen to a couple cars pass by and the wind blow softly by.

Carmy straightened up, making everyone except Sugar turn to him. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it under his shoe. He then reached behind him to untie the knot of his apron and then moved to his neck where he took it off completely. He thrusted it forward, pushing it to you.

“Okay Chef, break is over.” He said.

You looked over at him, finding no fear or sadness on his face, before nodding and grabbing the apron. He stepped back and turned, moving to open the back door and step inside.

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all turned to you.

“Break is over,” you repeated and began to tie the apron around yourself before opening the backdoor and walking back inside.

#the bear #carmen berzatto #reader #carmen berzatto x reader #michael berzatto x reader #mikey berzatto #carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #carmy the bear #richie the bear #mikey the bear #carmy berzatto imagine #richie berzatto imagine #mikey berzatto imagine #sugar berzatto #natalie berzatto #neil fak

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ericleo108 · 5 months

Text

CosmicLuve.com December 2023 - Deer

Necessary prerequisite posts:

108 The Story of Discovering Earth’s Consciousness (book)

Sentientism 2022

Cosmic Love Feb 2020 - Emma Watson

Cosmic Love April 2022: Cary Charlotte or Mary

Cosmic Luve July 2023 - The Main Thing

Cosmic Luve Aug 2023 - Orange

Cosmic Luve Sept 2023 - Bam

Cosmic Luve November 2023 - Cosmic Bros

youtube

This post’s intro builds off the semantics from the cosmic luve entries “Bam” and “Cosmic Bros” but the semantics for this month are all new, and all surround Emma Watson (again). I keep up this blog to show how semantic coincidences I see as meaningful could be a communication from Gaia, which is another name for the Earth’s conscious and godly spirit.

The basic theory is that Gaia can communicate through telepathic randonauting and “points of realization.” In other words, it’s thought that the Earth is conscious due to it’s magnetism that gives her the ability to read your thoughts and highlight cognition which affects your behavior. It’s postulated that Gaia would manifest her communications through signals of loving intent especially between romantic partners. She would basically have to use humans and animals as a canvas to paint her communication over the collective ethos which would manifest by groups of individuals acting out their (gaia) affected cognition.

The basis of this is described in my book “108 The Story of Discovering Earth’s Consciousness” which breaks down the science and evidence behind my reasoning and why I came to this conclusion. In the sentientism posts on the blog I take the science and knowledge of this a step further into the belief that Gaia is already conscious and communicating and ask: “What would that look like?” Then, this cosmic luve log is my attempt at showing you all that from my experience and how the voice in my head predicts the future and manipulates my environment in the ways aforementioned.

Where we Left off

I guess I should have waited longer to publish the last post because a couple new semantics popped up that day that directly related to the main theme of the last post. I’ve seen the video of Pattie Gonia holding up the signs of exposing Big Oil Tycoons as criminals before… but I forgot to log it. I made a tweet about it and about how I came across it on the day I published the November 2023 post and (eventually) apologized to Gaia for missing her communication. The next day, Philip DeFranco did another segment on the protests of Just Stop Oil.

New Coincidences

youtube

It all started December 9th, 2023 when I went to Three Rivers to see a friend and shoot three one-take music videos on the train tracks. They are posted and include “Yeah We Bang” “I Got You” and “Paliperidone” which is embedded above. In the December 10th Sunday update I talked about Emma Watson as a dear. Quick explanation, there was a deer that stopped in the middle of the train tracks while I was filming the second video which was “Paliperidone.” This is cosmic luve because right as I’m filming the deer I say “Gaia’s force,” then a little later I say “here’s the tale” as the deer runs away showing it’s tail, and (at the time) Emma’s Instagram profile picture was the mother deer from Bambi.

In the December 10th Sunday update I also talk about how “in twilight while taking a nap during the day the other day and Gaia said to make a (mystical) tree an anchor that she could build upon so I tweeted it to make it official.” Here is the tweet about the tree. I mentioned how “I made a tweet back on October 1st about how I would get $500 from my music “in the next 100 days”. Well I got the $500 but it didn’t come from music. It was access money I had basically.” Here is the tweet I made on October 1st. I also logged in the update that Gaia said I would meet Hailee Steinfeld in two years.

On December 11th I uploaded the Paliperidone One Take music video to Youtube. On the night of December 12th, Jimmy Fallon revealed the 9th box ‘til Christmas day’ sweater and it was a deer. Also on the night of December 12th Taraji P Henson was on Steven Colbert promoting the movie she was in which was “The Color Purple.” In the interview Taraji talk about how they shot the movie around a big oak tree (recalling what Gaia told me in twilight). The movie clip in the show is about recognizing god’s love.

On October 13 “Cosmic live brownies” dropped. I made a couple posts asking my ig audience why Emma Watson's profile picture is the deer from Bambi. On December 14 Emma changed her profile picture to a British vogue shot and lil dicky dropped mr McAdams the same day. Do you think this is Gaia making fun of me using Emma as a vessel? I think she is. On that day I also thought about the song “Do-Re-Me” from Sound of Music which I think relates especially with Emma being tied to the sun poem. That night Oprah made an appearance on Stephen Colbert wearing all purple.

On December 15th Gaia compelled me to make the tweet saying “Gaia says “you’ll hand a girlfriend in three weeks.”” I still don’t know what that’s about, we’ll see… On December 18th the Urban Rescue Ranch talks about “charlottes web” at 6:50 and how the spider is protecting Patrick, who I think is a type of African or Australian deer, from flies. I just want to say, this is how Emma’s cat semantics developed that I talk about in the book, the difference is the semantics were a lot more frequent and consistent because I had a cat. The problem was I hadn’t developed my theory of Gaia’s system (ie, knhoeing, sentientism, and cosmic luve) yet.

This will be a pivotal post because it’s all about Emma Watsan, and draw together semantics from the previous trope. Listen to “Hey Emma” and “Be my dream” for music about Emma Watson. “Charlotte’s Web,” the last remake from ‘The Chalice Mixtape’ drops on Emma’s birthday April 15 2024.

youtube

I am now using threads to document cosmic Luve coincidences so future logs will link to threads to document the prophecies instead of ‘X.'

#youtube #emma watson #cosmic luve

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sweetashblog · 26 days

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Draft from 4/3

Okay-

I just listened to the Project Meridian plotline for the first time and HOLY SHT

Spoilers below!!

This had me in a CHOKEHOLD ALL DAY.

Why don’t people talk about this more?? Literally all I knew was that James had a spouse and that Marcus was a weird guy that kissed a robot.

I didn’t know that we, the listener, were the robot! AND that we were a yandere robot!!!

I don’t like yandere plots, usually, because they feel horrific in a way that is way too close to reality (having a stalker is not something I wish on anyone), but the way this was presented CAPTIVATED me.

The gradual progression from unhealthy interest to extreme obsession was phenomenal. Especially because, while I knew he was a creep, I did not see Marcus as inherently Evil at first.

At first, I viewed this as more of a sci-fi horror, where Marcus was the catalyst, and it was ultimately his fault, but still a character I had empathy for. I thought “asset” was going to go down a darker path and that James was in danger.

It wasn’t until “Your Owner Takes Matters Into His Own Hands” that I realized how disgusting Marcus truly was. Then “Your Owner’s Log Entry” cemented that completely.

“Confronting Your Technician” was PAINFUL. I had such a hard time not feeling bad for Marcus, (bc who tf let Erik be such a great actor???) but James really shone through. He was blunt and confrontational and made it clear exactly how gross Marcus truly was without a hint of bias. I gained a new respect for his character that I hadn’t had before. Especially with how kindly he spoke to Asset afterwards.

And I LOVED the reveal of all the trigger words in the code!!! I didn’t catch any of them at first and had been really confused during A Talk With One of Your Devious Owners, but once everything came together I LOST IT.

I’m really grateful I got to listen to this with little to no spoilers. I was able to feel exactly what Erik was trying to invoke every step of the way and enjoy the immersion in the story.

I will never be able to get over Erik’s brilliance in writing and acting. How he is not a full-fledged voice actor, I have no idea. Everything he puts out is so well thought out and captivating, and somehow it stuns me every time.

AND ANTON— I love him with my whole heart and I’m going to personally track down Marcus and kick his teeth in I stg. I can’t wait to see how his plot develops 😭 Let him come home 😭

Anyways, thank you for coming to my TEDTalk. I think I need to make a new side blog for Redacted posts.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #project meridian #redacted james #redacted marcus #redacted asset #redacted anton #This has lived in my brain rent free

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manonamora-if · 6 months

Text

Weekly check in. Some little stuff, some bigger stuff.

Current word count: 23.323 (Ch.5), >8k (Ch.6)

And we're finally back on track with Harcourt, babyyyy. After a month of eh from both me (with the editing) and MelS (writing the next chapter), we both managed to break through our respective blocks.

As of a few days ago, I sent back the edited Chapter 5 to MelS, so he could answer my comments and check the changes. I finally got to read the missing bits (and they are creepy and yucky)... Can't wait to code all of that when it is ready. We definitely need another round of MelS editing the text and me checking it, before I can add that to the file.

Until I get the file back, I'll focus on other projects.

Like...

Yerup... I ended up finishing it. A little binksi with more vibes than story. Click if you dare :P

Making a binksi (or a bitsy/bipsi) had been something on my bucket list for a while now (almost a year actually), and I finally got to make one for realsies!

Honestly, the hardest part in all of this... was making the tiles/sprites in 8x8 pixels ;-; Anyway, the code is freely available on itch and my GitHub.

Fixed some accessibility issues yesterday:

textbox not getting in focus properly

links/buttons not changing state when in focus but not hovered

added image descriptions to pictures in French/English

Also added the logos of Twine and SugarCube when the game loads. Those are clickable too.

I have worked a tad more on the UI/missing elements. But not as much as I should have.

Next week, the final update should be out.

This is what I'll be fixing this month. Officially reopened the code files, stared at it, and cried. It's so bad. It's such a mess...

Not looking forward to it, but it needs fixing! (I've asked the Forum for help too in the commands...)

ALSO, I've decided there will be a hyperlink version of this game. Instead of the commands, click on words. It will be in the same file, and you get to choose at the start.

I’ve finished reviewing the EctoComp entries (except the Spanish-only ones because I suck at Spanish...) and have started reviewing the Bare-Bones Jam entry. An updated version of the reviews have been queues on the IFDB and @manonamora-if-reviews. I will probably go back to the IFComp entries after that (probably after the voting deadline... I've done 40 already...).

-_-

I've made a completely new intro post with all of the place I'm at (if you'd rather not be on Tumblr). It was a long time coming, and now I have clear channels of where I'm posting about stuff. Just need to be consistent...

I've also started migrating old dev logs and posts to my blog, especially the longer ones where I have a lot to say. Since the search function and archive on Tumblr is eh, I get to keep the important ones (not all of them are) in a more organised place. They are still on Tumblr, btw. It's not gone, just copied. It's been nice to revisit old dev logs, and see how far I've come (it's been a long way). It's pretty humbling (especially the typos, omg... I fixed so many of those).

-_-

The IFComp and EctoComp, are always looking for players/voters. If you want to play a few short-ish games, take advantage of that! There is only a few days left for the IFComp and a few weeks for the EctoComp.

The @seedcomp-if is always looking for inspiration (text, images, code, etc…) in this current first round. If you have half-baked ideas or anything, really, come submit something!

Over @neointeractives, ShuffleComp! is looking for playlists and participats :)

-_-

And that's it I think...

#dev log #progress #update #ttateh #lpm #tos #trnt

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agentnatesewell · 1 year

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hey there! generally speaking I'd come off anon for this but it's been a while since I've properly been on tumblr and I'm too lazy to recover my login info lol. but anyway, I just wanted to say that I really enjoy your blog and it's always a pleasure to read your thoughts and theories about N, as a fellow N mancer! hence why I'm sending you this ask, I haven't seen anyone bring this up yet so I'd love to know your thoughts!

but to get to the actual point of the ask, I've been replaying the N route in book 3 and exploring different choices and picked up on something interesting, I think. 👀 so when you're on the "no one learnt about the supernatural" branch, if you're sober when you come back to the warehouse, you can kiss N. and it really piqued my attention because the text describes the kiss as tasting metallic, which I feel was definitely an intentional choice of words. especially because from what I've noticed, Mishka generally doesn't often include descriptions of how the detective's LI "tastes" when describing kiss scenes and usually the descriptions focus on other sensations and emotions. in addition to this, the other aspect that really made me go hmm here is also the fact that if you ask N what they've been doing while waiting for the detective to come back, they ofc deflect the question and turn on the charm/suaveness and say something along the lines of "even a vampire has to have secrets".

so both of these little things combined really makes me wonder wtf they were doing?? now of course I'm not trying to jump to any nefarious or malicious conclusions or anything like that lol. but it's still definitely something to think about. like idk I wonder if they were drinking blood or doing something with blood?? it could be nothing ofc but I just can't seem to let go of the description of the metallic tasting kiss, it's been on my mind since I read that scene and it definitely feels like a very purposeful hint for something, I just don't know what. now I feel mildly unsettled lol, who knows what N route, X tier related angst Mishka has in store for us!! but idk maybe I'm also just focusing on it too much and overthinking stuff haha.

Hello friend!! If you ever do log in, please drop me a message! Thank you so much for being so lovely and nice! So happy you like the blog - crying about N is seriously one of my favorite things to do.

Going to put my answer being a cut since it’s long + spoilers

It’s so cool that upon replaying and trying the routes, that there are all of these pieces that really start coming together to create this multifaceted story. I’ve only done the Verda dinner with N, Tina dinner with A, and Verda/Tina with F (so, will be a similar scene to what you got! Curious how it’ll go with F). Luckily, a friend had sent me some screenshots of your detective comes home drunk so I do have some context!

I like where you’re going with this, I do the same thing - look at anything for a clue to what their tier x power is. And definitely see where you’re going here!

It seems to me that the detective caught N post-meal (and maybe slipping a bit, blood tastes differently to them, like something pleasant vs the more metallic taste the detective tasted). And N’s kiss was described in the beginning of the book but you’re so right, the way the kisses taste isn’t necessarily a feature of the scene. So, I think you’re also right that it’s deliberate - that usually N tastes like nectar but in this scene, they taste metallic.

With N’s whole … discomfort of being seen/known as a vampire, their wish for humanity and to be seen as human, I can see how maybe they’d not want to being up that their dinner was actually what is necessary to sustain them - their half ration of blood (they were hungry!). Now, we did have the breakfast scene but I’ve never noticed how N drank their blood (tell me where I’m missing it though! Just haven’t seen it!) … F is made to put it in a glass, A in the wine glass, M out of the pouch, but N? Idk!

And I think it pulled into their whole conversation about being a mystery and having their secrets (if you got that in your version!) … something they’re just not ready to fully commit to and share with the detective YET. Which is a parallel to speaking with Verda and Tina about it at dinner time. Since they were asked, and they were willing to answer the really uncomfortable questions to help the detective and their friend.

All such good thoughts!! Thank you so much for sharing them with me! It was really fun to think about. Let me know or you have anymore things to discuss! Hope you’re having a great day!

#thank you for the ask!#anon ask #i am going to have to play a few times and get this option because i am curious!#n is just so much more mysterious as the books go on #twc #n sewell #mar rambles #long post

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pungentdarling · 3 months

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The Pungent Darling

Hello world!! The Pungent Darling is run by Michelle. Trying to fight imposter syndrome one post at a time. If it were up to me I’d only be going by Pungent Darling, but my mom insisted on me keeping my name in here somewhere. This was after I lectured her on why someone would choose to write with a pen name. I told her mine was for the anxiety of putting myself out into the world. This is terrifying!! But still she persisted. So, here we are, welcome to the blog where thoughts, opinions, creativity, reviews and rants will be held. Light a candle, grab some snacks and don’t forget a drink, this is going to be a post about my background to make me feel legit on why I deserve to start a blog.

If you know me, you know how much I constantly talk about “when I start my fashion / music blog,” or “when I interview [any celebrity] I’m going to ask them…” One of my brothers once told me “I’ll let you interview me when you’ve got the story” haha, harsh!! What can I say, I’m a dreamer with my head in the clouds. While I was up in the clouds letting my mind wander I started to remember all the things I did before I shut off my creativity. I stopped having goals for myself and ended up in the ether untied to anything. I’m starting to ground myself again and walk the talk.

I used to have a tumblr blog of pictures I would take of bands at their concerts, some with a photo pass, some from the crowd. It was a blast!! But I forgot the login, so that is a chapter of my life I won’t be able to edit. The feeling of adrenaline while photographing a band between the stage and barricades is wild. The screaming fans behind you while you’re photographing each band member feels like they’re cheering you on. I always wondered if the musicians could see me smiling (I tried to photograph my favorite bands at that time so this was a big wonder and wishful thinking.) I'd also be singing their songs as my face was shield by my camera (always wanting to stay out of the way and observe.) Shout out to my plethora of Canons, thank you for getting me into places!! This was a very fun and cool part of my life, I wish I would’ve stuck it out, but imposter syndrome and lack of passion will make you stop doing anything. It sucks when it was the only thing you’ve built your personality around.

DiD sHe Go To CoLlEgE?! YUP!! I graduated with a bachelor's degree in arts, majoring in Broadcasting and Journalism minoring in Apparel and Textile Merchandising. I shit you not, those exact lengthy ass words are on my degree!! This school is not worth mentioning and I’m still mad at myself for going there. Words of advice don’t go to a college just because it’s the cheapest state school and the school colors were your favorite complimentary color combo. I’ve always had a love / hate relationship when it comes to this section of my life. Through all the pain, came things I’ve learned that will stick with me for life, the good and the bad.

My vision for this page is to share experiences and things that I think are cool. Basically all the things I love and want to share; traveling and checking out new local places, sometimes a quick day trip! Two hours one way isn’t that far if it seems worth it, in my humble opinion. I want to share what I’m reading and cooking; concert reviews; travel logs; grief; fashion things; music interest and food places. I’m not going to limit / force myself on the length of the post like I would in the past, maybe that is why my previous writing / blogging endeavors never worked out. Third times the charm!!

Please enjoy this picture of me in a very weird time of my life, but looking at it now it’s one of my favorite pictures of myself. It embodies the chaos that is The Pungent Darling. I can’t wait to see where this blog goes, all I want is to keep evolving and sticking to my boundaries.

Xoxo,

The Pungent Darling

#spilled thoughts #alternative #60s #70s #fashion #pungent darling #personal blog #blogger #blogging #travel #traveling #travel blog

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hakirachan · 4 months

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Hey guys. Hakira here. Just a rant below the cut, read if you want. Or don’t. I don’t care.

I usually don’t vent on this blog. It’s mostly full of crack, shits and giggles, which is why you probably weren’t expecting this kind of post. But I just need to explain something in case I suddenly stop posting one day. (I know you guys probably don’t care; in fact, most of y’all probs won’t see this, but I needed to post this anyways. Sorry.) It’s kinda depressing so feel free to keep scrolling now that you know that.

So, I’m at a really shitty point in my life. It feels like everyone’s against me, like I’ve got almost nobody supporting me, and I feel like I’m hated by everyone I’ve ever looked up to. I know, sooo original. Well, it’s deeper than that.

I’m still living with my parents (somehow), but it’s always been pretty toxic ever since I was a kid. As the youngest, I can guarantee that the “youngest sibling is the favorite child, oldest gets all the work” stereotype is complete bullshit. I was told to do some things that kids that age shouldn’t have had to do. At just 6-7 years old, I was forced to take heavy bags & boxes (and I mean 40-50 pounds each) of my dad’s old shit down to the curb and wait there until they got picked up by his friend (“to make sure it didn’t get blown away” or something like that) in the middle of a fucking snowstorm, with temps below -10 degrees Fahrenheit [around -23 degrees Celsius]. Almost lost my fingers from that. They made me set out & pack up most things for a family campout on my own when I wasn’t even staying at the campsite; I was staying home with a mean, nicotine-addicted (took out a cigarette the moment my parents pulled out of the driveway; refused to stop smoking even though the smoke was making my 8-year-old body nauseous) babysitter because I had a B- in one of my classes. I know this doesn’t sound that bad, but the problem is that I wasn’t even 10 when these things were happening. It’s not really anything too serious, but I was still basically ripped out of my childhood way too early. But, enough about my childhood; now my present life. I’ve relied on my friends for comfort for most of my life because of my dysfunctional home. Recently, though, my friends have become more distant and toxic. Spreading rumors, talking shit, leaving me out, and pulling pranks that go too far (like ruining the outfit I worked so hard to make the day before my band concert). I’ve only got three friends I trust; however, 2 of them I hardly talk to anymore (not because anything happened, we’ve just got different things going on in our lives). So, there’s only one real friend who’s always stuck with me. However, there’s nothing he can do about my family at home. As I said earlier, my family’s always been toxic and dysfunctional. It should have gotten better over the years, but no. It’s gotten worse. They’ve cussed me out, threatened me, and recently, I’ve even been a victim to some domestic violence. I talked to the cops about it, and to a lady from the state who deals with these kinds of things. However, since there were no visible marks and no proof of it, they couldn’t log it as abuse because they can’t just go off of what is said; they need some hard evidence to actually do anything. So, since I don’t have the money to move out of my parent’s house, I had to watch my only hope at escaping this mental and verbal (and now some physical) abuse quite literally walk out the door. I’ve been having suicidal thoughts and self-harm urges for the longest time. And, I’m ashamed to admit it because I’ve talked so many people out of it irl, but recently I have been self-harming. Thing is, while I had helped so many other people, nobody ever helped me through these dark times in my life. In fact, some people (who I helped through their trauma) literally told me to self-harm and to just kill myself when I tried venting to them. I just can’t deal with this shit anymore. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t see the “bright side” anymore. There is no more “bright side” for me. I’m on the edge right now, literally. But I’ve got you guys to thank for getting me this far. Thank you so much for being here for me, even though I don’t usually vent, and you guys didn’t know what I’ve been going through up until now, so you weren’t actively trying to support me. Even so, thanks for appreciating me and not treating me like I’m more worthless than a dead plant. I love you all, and I hope you guys have great lives. So, if I change my mind, then I’ll see you guys later. If not…well, don’t mourn me, I’ll be in a better place. So long, guys. also im gonna give this a few days in case things get better (though let’s be honest, they’re probably not gonna) so don’t miss me just yet. If I’m gone for like, over a week, then you can assume I finally freed myself from this hell

shoutout to my mutuals, you guys are awesome and were great help to me (im not gonna pin you so you don’t feel obliged to read/reply to my dumb rant): dumb-mc-sheep cldhart08 acronym49 cricketproofreads im-an-angy-alpaca trash-opposum

And special shoutouts to my two fav mutuals (sorry other moots) @family-disappointment and @avatarofstars! You two were some of the greatest motivators for me to keep going. I’m sorry that your efforts (while unintentional) probably weren’t enough this time. I love you both and wish you both the best lives you can have! (And sorry for bothering you with the tag, just wanted you to see this last little note to you both💜)

This is Hakira, signing out.

#goodbye #i love you all #i wish you all the best #and im gonna miss you all #thank you guys for everything you’ve done for me.#this is Hakira signing out.#hakira rants

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madame-mozart · 2 years

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“A Character Social Network”...?

I’ve been wanting to make this post for a while now.

I know I’m not the only one who’s gotten private messages like this:

(I’ve censored out the account names, though I don’t know if they’re really worth witch-hunting, anyway)

I got this message for the first time (first screenshot) a few months ago, and a second time (second screenshot) a few days ago. The first one was sent to my main blog (the account you’re viewing this on right now, lol) while the second one was sent to one of my sideblogs. The one thing that these two blogs had in common? I posted stuff related to my OCs (Original Characters). Chances are, if you post about your own OCs too, you’ll also probably get DMs like this.

So why would these accounts target you? Well, as you can see, they will send you a Google Forms link with some kind of “access code”. I noticed that these accounts are basically like any other spambot, as they will have a default profile picture and their pages will be empty. They also followed me and a few other people, including Tumblr Staff (which I think you automatically follow by default when you make a new account). I did some searching, and I deduced these are indeed legit links for a Google Form. However, since I’m a paranoid person, I purposefully logged out of my main Google account and hopped on a burner one to access the form itself:

(The first screenshot is the form linked from the DM I got a few months ago, the second screenshot is from the one I got a few days ago)

Again, very similar wording. TLDR: they’re basically advertising some kind of social “site” where you’d be able to share your OCs with other people and interact with each other. The catch is, they’re “invite only” and you need an access code to get in. As you’ve seen, the only way to seemingly get an access code is to be messaged directly from these spambot accounts. Oh, and they also want your email so you’ll get your actual “invite” to the site.

Hm, yeah, are you sure you’re not also going to leak my data to other fishy sites that’ll end up spamming me? Wait, a bunch of social media sites do that already, don’t they?

Anyway, I simply noped out and marked both these DMs as spam. However, I wanted to do some further digging into what this “Character Social Network” was... what was even the name of this “site”? Why wasn’t it mentioned ANYWHERE in the Google Forms? Who even were these people targeting certain accounts on TUMBLR OF ALL PLACES and sending DMs like this?

I tried typing “character social network” into Tumblr’s search engine... nothing really significant popped up (no one was bringing this to others’ attention? I guess I’ll be darned if I’m the first one to do this). I took it to Google, and ended up finding a Reddit thread! Basically, it was the same deal: the OP got a DM from Tumblr advertising the supposed “site” with a Google Forms and an invite code to join. Many other commenters seem to have gotten the same link! One commenter actually used a burner email to try signing up to the site to see what would happen! Surprisingly enough, they made a breakthrough:

CharacterHub, huh? That’s the site behind all these spambot DMs? I wonder what that site looks like...

Ah, I see. It seems like it’s trying to be like Toyhou.se, another character repository site that also happens to be invite only. Unlike Toyhou.se though (where you’d have to actively search for someone/somewhere to get yourself an invite code), you can apparently request an invite code right there directly from the site!

This is what you see when you click the “request invite” button. So they’re “invite only” because they really want to offer the service that their users “deserve” and want to create a tight-knit community. Okay, fair enough. You’d probably run the risk of having trolls flood your site if you made the registration public. That’s probably similar to why Toyhou.se has been in invite beta for so long.

But wait, I noticed something: “We’re in the Discord”.

Well, I don’t know why you couldn’t just let people join your Discord server (if it even exists). Again, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt: you don’t want trolls flooding your server. Since you appear to already have people in your “tight-knit” community (including moderators, which I hope to God you have decent ones), why not have these people make Tumblr accounts and send people invites to the Discord server instead of using spambots to spread a fishy-looking Google Form? I get it, maybe it’s not the greatest idea. I shouldn’t be talking, really. But in my opinion, it probably would’ve made you guys look a lot more legit if I got a DM from an actual Tumblr user (heck, you don’t even have to post anything if you really wanted to, but just edit your description or something saying that you’re from the CharacterHub site and you’re giving out invite codes!) promoting an actual Discord server - LOTS of people use Discord!! Funny story, this is actually how I got into one of my own Discord servers! There was this nostalgic game I used to play back in the day, which shut down a few years ago. An actual Tumblr account from that Discord server messaged me and sent me an invite link to the server!

Hold on, don’t leave yet. I’m not done digging through this rabbit hole. Not only did I find the CharacterHub site on Google, but I also happened to find their Twitter!

A breakthrough! The people behind CharacterHub seem to be tied to another similarly-named site called “Charahub”! You guys remember Charahub, right? I do, too! I actually used it back in the day, but it apparently shut down without me (and many others) even knowing!! Seriously, just type Charahub into Tumblr’s search engine - so many more people have been posting about it. It’s very clearly well known to many.

Allegedly, Charahub had quite a bit of issues - I saw some Tumblr users complaining about data leaks the site apparently had, poor communication from the moderators (people have apparently tried to reach out to their social media but never got any responses back), and the fact that it literally just shut down without a warning, effectively nuking every OC and information that people have poured into their profile.

So riddle me this: is CharacterHub supposedly a “revival” of Charahub????

...because honestly, with everything you’ve done/shown through that previous site and what you’re doing now to try and get people to join your site, it’s looking kind of shady right now. I will NOT be joining your site. I’d always been wanting to join Toyhou.se, and I finally got an invite code this year. As far as I know, Toyhou.se doesn’t seem to have many problems with it. You guys shut down a site only to open it back up again? Logic 100.

To anyone who reads this post: take this all with a grain of salt. For all I know, I could be completely in the wrong and CharacterHub is actually an amazing site. I honestly don’t know, but I also honestly don’t care. If you think this is a scam, go ahead! Block all these DMs! Have you decided to ignore everything I said and gone out to sign up to this site? Maybe you’re even a member of this site? Cool story, bro! No seriously, if you’re a member of the site, how about enlightening me (and other people who might be suspicious) on what you can exactly do on this site? Literally NO ONE has spoken up about this site and it really does seem like they want their little “tight-knit” community to be all “hush-hush” about it, too. All I really ask is to not witch-hunt their Twitter or any of their other platforms, okay? The last thing I want to see is people messing around with them and saying they got sent from Tumblr.

Totally forgot to mention this, but I thought it was kind of funny that they messaged me on a sideblog where I post stuff from “Waifu Labs”, a site you can use to generate anime characters using an AI. They apparently called that “my art”, ha. 🤡

#character social network #charahub #characterhub #long post #READ READ READ!!!#READ ME #IMPORTANT #rant #maddy's musings #not oc related #well actually somewhat oc related #it's about an oc site HAH

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consequencesofargentdawn · 6 months

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Yo, I've been casually checking out the blog from time to time since a while. So long story slightly shortened I used to be a part of the Assemblage Gnome Guild during BFA and some part of Shadowlands. See, I got nabbed up when I was a complete noobie alt-tabbing in Stormwind while waiting on a fella to hop on to RP. Well, they were busy and when I tabbed back in i was being approached lmao. Despite vague warnings of this PCU I had no real clue and didn't bother to look up what was going on. I got booted for inactivity when irl got the best of me, with Perroy himself asking me "Do you even rp anymore" or shit along those lines. Told him I was on a break and sometime later i learned i was booted when I did not spot the Discord server on my list. So can I get caught up on wtf has been going on with the Assemblage and that other Dwarf Guild i cant remember the name of? I can post my whole ass story in a follow up, either here or on discord, but I am curious what has been going on with them during their existence, even when I was not there. I was around when the guild was on it's last legs, the head honcho having quit, replaced by another character. Said new GM literally had to use an alt for the next next event's npcs. (I say next twice cuz the first one they planned literally did not get enough people to attend [skull emoji].) Also I heard about something something Perroy and gnomes. So.. yeah. Don't spare me any details 'n stuff, I wanna know it all. Also as an ending note here is a fun fact: I got scolded several times for logging off before the member count thing that was happening by the leader at the time, Ryder. Thanks for reading my ramblings. I might even ramble more sometime.

Assemblage of Uld and League of Modimus were the real main Eastern Kingdoms foothold for the PCU after the Bloody Verdict was brought down in (you guessed it) a sex pest scandal. Despite that however Gnome and Dwarf RP has always been a niche that never truly gains the same number of players as other more popular niches (Humans, Military, Elves etc).

From our understanding there were too many long term Dwarf guilds persisting on Argent Dawn for the standard PCU policy of infiltration, dissimulation and assimilation of others for the PCU to maintain consistent numbers and activity.

Guild leaders from League of Modimus also ended up wanting to try out and make a Dracthyr guild as Dragonflight approached and their attempts understandably backfired when it was seen that they were not just some normal RPers but actually PCU gang members trying to take over yet another niche.

League of Modimus and Assemblage of Uld ultimately merged into Forgecog Fellowship, which lasted a few months before ultimately unable to keep interest, also went the way of the dinosaur.

Your insights however have been of interest to us, and again confirm the type of person Perroy and his officers have usually been. If you would like to share more we would be happy to publicize your experiences, anonymously of course if that is desired.

#confessions of argent dawn #pcu #argent dawn eu #perroy #assemblage of uld #league of modimus #forgecog fellowship

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holllandtrash · 1 year

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Congrats on 3K followers! Very much deserved. I'm a new follower and was curious to know the story behind your blog (how long youve had it for and how you started out/transitioned into f1) only if you want to share your story of course (:

sit down and get some popcorn babes, here is my life story

Back story, I’ve been writing fanfiction since 2011, I started on quotev (If anyone remembers that) and it was solely 1D fanfics also i was way too fcking young to be writing fanfiction

I started this blog in like mid 2016 and it was mainly an mcu blog (cough cough Tom Holland/Peter Parker) and I wrote a lot of one shots and more on here, but that where the name ‘holllandtrash’ comes from :’)

I took a break from writing fanfic from like mid 2018-2020 bc I started school, moved across the country, dropped out of school, moved back home, went back to school, thought I was in love yadda yadda but I sort of fell out of writing during that time or if I did write, I would never post it

Oh but what happened in 2020 ??? Pandemic !!!! AND the 10 year anniversary of one direction so I actually started to get back into 1d fanfic writing (didn’t post any of it) but I fell back in love with fanfiction while I was stuck at home

I also fell in love w Harry Potter again and then I started a wattpad like mid 2020 and wrote a few HP fics on there that are horribly long and one of them isn’t even completed yet BUT that was most of my 2021, hp, tik tok, wattpad and school

That leads me to falling in love with F1 early in 2022 (I’m a new fan) and honestly for the entirety of last year I was still writing my Harry Potter fics, (shoutout to Elusive & Burn) I was in school up until May, had a full time job after that (still have it), broke up w my ex 💅 decided to save up to move across the world (still working on that part) but everything was going good up until December of 2022

I stopped writing because Christmas is always chaotic for me and my family and work was stupid busy and i was planning a 3 week trip for January and then I got back from that trip and suffered from a burst fucking eardrum of all things so I couldn’t work and i was stuck at home I was lonely and had no motivation

And then one day in February, still with the HP fanfic on hold bc I just couldnt bring myself to write it, I decided to log onto my good ol tumblr and what do I see but some F1 stuff and I’m like oh this is lovely (bc the season hadn’t started yet and i missed the drivers) and one of the first things I saw was a social media au and I was like hey wait…I could do that...

So I did and the Pierre smau (worlds collide) was my first ever piece of f1 writing- if you can even call it that, but then I was hooked. I stuck with the smau’s for the most part for the first few weeks but it was a really good transition to actually writing one shots and eventually back into chaptered fics

I wish I had liked or reblogged that first social media au I saw because it really jump started me back into writing after taking almost three months off

anyway now I am writing when I can, splitting my time between Tumblr and trying to write a real book. My Harry Potter fic on wattpad is still on hold and I would like to go back to it but it’s hard. But this platform really pushed me to just focus on what i love and all of the kind and supportive messages from followers like you remind me why I love to write, I want to write for other people, I want people to feel the things that I feel, even if just for a short amount of time

i'll try to publish a book one day but man writing is fucking hard so who knows

if u made it this far, thank u for reading all of this xoxo

#holllandtrash

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elisela · 1 year

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I posted 1,979 times in 2022

317 posts created (16%)

1,662 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@clotpolesonly

@radio-chatter

@missanniewhimsy

@tripleaxeldiaz

@outtoshatter

My Top Posts in 2022:

i am home in the wake of your skin stiles x derek, alpha/emissary, getting together for @missanniewhimsy and also @averysterekwinter "magic” read on ao3

---

The cold hurts his chest. He breathes it in anyway, pulling it deep into his lungs and holding it there, frozen. The woods are still enough for him to hear the branches of the evergreens creak with the weight of the falling snow, the faint click of the SUV’s engine where he left it in the driveway, and behind him, ever so faintly, the soft crunch of a paw against powder.

“I saw you running,” he says without looking backwards, shifting the backpack strap on his shoulder. “You’re lucky no one else is stupid enough to drive up here, they would have been in for a shock.”

“Wouldn’t have let them see me,” Derek says, coming to a stop beside him, just out of sight. “No one’s around. No one but me’s been around for a while. Are you okay getting everything in the cabin while I scout up the trail?”

“Sure, yeah,” Stiles says, tipping his head up and looking at the crystal clear sky, moon already hanging bright and heavy, stars so thick across the Milky Way it looks like a lovingly woven blanket. “Go do your thing, wolf man. I’ll set some clothes on the porch for you.”

Derek’s sigh—noisy, fondly exasperated—follows him up to the door, which opens under his hand with the barest amount of pressure. He can feel the magic built into the very walls reaching out, reacting to his presence; old, protective magic that melts into his aura, keeping him in his place at the threshold before deeming him worthy to enter. Stiles hitches the backpack further up on his shoulder and curls his fingers into a loose fist before tossing up orbs of softly glowing light that illuminate the small space—they won’t last long, not with what little power he has, but it’ll be long enough to get a fire going and that’s all he needs.

He’s not surprised to see firewood already stacked at the hearth, a neat bundle of it in place, ready to be lit. Lighting it with magic would be easiest but he’s not sure how much he should be using before the ceremony; it's still a new thing in a way, this ability he has, and Stiles is still waiting for it to disappear the moment he needs it most. So he pulls the lighter out of his front pocket and flicks his thumb until the flame appears, bending down and catching it to one of the pieces of wadded up newspaper, crouched until the slow burn crawls over the logs and ignites.

By the time Derek’s steps sound heavy on the wooden steps he’s got the car unpacked and blankets smoothed out over the double bed, backpacks stashed behind the sagging couch, cooler of food out on the porch with a set of clothes on top. There’s nothing left for him to do on his own, not in the cabin or for the ritual; he’s spilled blood at the cardinal points of the Hale land with his alpha at his side, but the remainder is Derek’s. He’s fidgeting when Derek walks in, hands clasped in front of him as he sits on the couch, feet tapping a mile a minute, too restless without anything to occupy his time. He stills, though, when Derek speaks.

“I know you have feelings for me,” Derek says, then grimaces as the cold steals Stiles’ breath from his chest, leaving him feeling hollow. “Shit. That wasn’t—I have them, too. For you. I thought you should know before we do this.”

He resumes jiggling his knee again, tapping his fingers against his knuckles. “Remind me to tell the pack what a romantic you are,” he says, and Derek’s shoulder nudges against his as he breathes out, relieved. He’d suspected—the immense amount of trust it takes for Derek to bind Stiles to him and the pack like they’re planning had been the first clue; he’s pretty sure that at this point in Derek’s life, trust and love are synonymous. The looks and soft touches—he’d hoped, but colored with the view of his own overwhelming feelings—he couldn’t trust that, couldn’t put all his faith in that to make the leap himself. For so many reasons, Derek was always going to have to be the one who took the first step.

Derek’s shoulder shifts as he laughs, a soft huff of breath. “Pretty sure that’s not a word they would have ever used to describe me.”

“Pretty sure they’re wrong, then,” Stiles says before he can rein it back in. Derek, he thinks—with the plants he has a laminated schedule for watering, the poetry books in half a dozen languages he says are only around to deepen his understanding, the family recipes he tries so hard to recreate—is likely a closet romantic and sentimental on top of it, and anyone who can’t look past the brick wall of an alpha stare and see that is a fool.

Like he is prone to do when someone comes close to complimenting him, Derek deflects. “We should get started,” he says. His hand squeezes Stiles’ thigh as he rises from the sofa, an implicit understanding that there’s more to come when they have the time but there are things that are perhaps not more important, but more pressing that they have to focus on.

—

The clearing is awash with snowglow, glittering in the light of the full moon. Stiles shivers as Derek leads him to the center, snowflakes falling all around, though he’s too cold to register them landing on his exposed skin. Derek mutters something he can’t hear over his chattering teeth when he checks his watch but then Stiles is pulled into him, wrapped in his arms, sinking into the warmth of his body despite the frigid air leeching most of it. He presses his nose into the curve of Derek’s shoulder and grins when Derek jolts, pulling his arms up and trapping them between their bodies to keep warm.

It must only be a minute; Derek, he knows, timed the walk from the cabin to the clearing carefully so they wouldn’t be exposed to the elements for long while they waited for the moon to reach its perigee, but it feels like longer as they stand there, breath settling down until they’re in sync. The lead-up to this moment is months in the making if he goes by the literal sense—the research of the ritual, the careful translations to find the exact meaning to ensure it was done correctly, the effort it took to map the exact boundary lines of the Hale land that had been lost to fire and time, the four full moons that had to pass for him to leave a part of himself at each point. But he knows it’s more like years at this point—a decade of hard-won trust in each other, of nurturing the spark within him, acceptance of the fact that Stiles belonged to the land as much as Derek ever did, a decade to come together not out of necessity but from commitment.

He takes a step back when Derek squeezes him, winter air rushing around him and goosebumps breaking out, but he controls the shivering as best he can while Derek stands before him and reaches out to trace the runes of protection on his skin. It requires no words—just intent, belief, which Stiles has always had in abundance—and when he steps back Derek reaches out for him, claws scratching lightly against his palm. Stiles watches his face closely so he doesn’t have to see the blood that wells up on his skin when Derek starts his part, scratching the triskele just over Stiles’ heart, deep enough to scar.

He’s shaking not only from cold now, fighting to stay upright through the pain as Derek’s face twists apologetically along with his fingers, tongue between sharp teeth so he doesn’t make a sound. But when Derek’s hand falls down to his forearm, poised to cut him deep enough to spill blood onto the land, Stiles pulls back slightly to get his attention before lifting his arm and offering his wrist. Derek had dismissed it out of hand during their research—too many things could go wrong, he’d said, and they were positive that it didn’t matter how he bled, just that he did. And despite Stiles’ desire to finish it quickly and feel as little additional pain as possible it just feels right to twist his arm and hold his wrist next to Derek’s mouth, and they exchange a long, weighted stare before Derek finally nods once and wraps his hand around Stiles’ wrist, thumb smoothing over his skin just before he sinks his teeth into it.

Stiles would love to say it didn’t hurt; when he recounts the experience later, he’ll forget that it did, that his heart rate spiked in his chest and the pain that ripped through him caused his stomach to heave, that Derek had to hold his arm out so the blood dripped into the ground where they’d cleared the snow because Stiles’ instincts were telling him to pull it close to his chest and stop the bleeding. Because the moment it touched the ground the bond flared to life inside him and he couldn’t think about anything else—he could feel Derek, the pack, a welcome, comforting weight in his heart. He could feel the ground calling out to him, peaceful and alive in a way that overwhelmed him to the point that his knees buckled and he would have collapsed had Derek not caught him.

“Worked,” he manages—and then closes his eyes and passes out.

—

He comes to still clutching Derek’s hand, but warm if not comfortable, sprawled on the floor with his back to the fire, head resting on Derek’s shoulder but hip digging into the hard ground. His body still doesn’t feel like his own—never will again, from what he’s read, bound by magic to the pack and the land, to the man who has always been his alpha even when his eyes glowed blue. There’s so much sensory input buzzing through him that it takes a moment to realize that Derek’s hand is moving slowly through his hair, the crackling of the fire accompanied by the low humming vibration in Derek’s chest.

The air around them is so peaceful in a way that other people probably savor, but Stiles is fond of talking and now that he’s not a bundle of nerves over their attempt to revive a ritual that hadn’t been completed in at least a century he has things he wants to say. So he plants a hand on Derek’s sternum and presses himself up—then pats the bare skin a little just because he can. “You love me,” he says, preening; he can feel it right there in his chest, the deep pull of an anchor that keeps him from drifting. “I can feel it.”

“I love sleep,” Derek grumbles, but sits up despite Stiles not saying anything about it at all and reaches for the same bucket he’d carried snow in earlier to purify them, only now warmed from the fire. Stiles allows himself to be pushed back down as Derek studies him, wiping the tacky blood from his chest with motions that seem reverent, fingertips running over raised, but healed, skin. “Does it still hurt?”

“Nah,” he says, examining it himself, then the bite mark on his wrist that Derek’s gaze keeps wandering to. “You didn’t take the pain, did you? You know the book said—”

“I translated the book,” Derek says; the unspoken dumbass tacked onto the end apparent by the roll of his eyes even as he moves to wipe at Stiles’ wrist with the same gentle touch. “I’m hoping that not taking the pain stops you from doing anything else as stupid as letting a werewolf bite you.”

“Right, just let any ol’ werewolf roll up and bite me, not like that wasn’t the way the emissary bond was sealed in all those accounts.”

“Could have gone wrong.”

“But didn’t,” he says, raising himself up onto his elbows and wagging his eyebrows, grinning. “And I feel great, if not a little hungry—what do you say you go hunt some dinner and provide for me, huh? Big strong alpha? Prove your worth a little, you know, werewolf courting—”

See the full post

206 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

i just really like the idea of stiles and derek finding each other again when they’re older and more settled, more at peace, and realizing pretty quickly that they’re going to end up becoming more but just … enjoying the journey. they gently flirt as they learn to get more comfortable with each other, integrate into each other’s lives … they make a game of it almost, talking about the future without talking about the future, speaking in hypotheticals and trying to trip each other up. and then one day they’re making dinner and stiles mentions his lease is up and he can’t decide if he should renew or find somewhere closer and derek turns all the burners off and leads him down the hallway, past his office and the guest room and right to the doorway of the master bedroom and says “this close enough?” and stiles turns and kisses him and pulls him back to the kitchen and lectures him for turning the oven off because good lord derek it doesn’t need to be babysat you can leave the room for ten seconds it’ll be fine

345 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

I wish you would write a fic where Derek is not so subtle about his pining for stiles and Stiles is so oblivious about it that someone has to basically spell it out for him before he notices 😉

sunny my love ANYTHING for you (this got long lol)

Stiles should probably admit defeat after he flips up the lid of the second to last pizza box, but he holds out hope for as long as it takes to move his hand a foot to the right and push his fingers up under the little tab. “Aww, come on,” he complains, staring at the barbecue chicken in disgust, “I was on the phone with my dad for ten seconds! Ten! Everyone in this room knows what my favorite pizza is, did you really have to eat it all?”

He makes a face at the offending pizza box as he moves to the left, back to where he had left the hawaiian and veggie slices in the dust on his hunt for something more enjoyable. He only has time to tip his head back and heave an exasperated, heavy sigh (with a strangled groan at the end when he sees the veggie pizza is loaded down with mushrooms, which definitely do not belong on anything as delicious as pizza) when someone takes the flimsy paper plate out of his hand and replaces it with another.

“Dude,” he says, blinking down at three mouth-watering slices of pepperoni and sausage stacked on top of each other, the cheese at the end curling from the telltale stretch of it being pulled away. Derek’s gone before he can say anything else, disappeared back to wherever he was lurking before—probably finding the bottle of carpet stain remover if the last two game nights were any indication.

“Oh hey, there was some left,” Scott says when he sits down, beaming at him.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yeah, thanks to Derek, the only one who loves me,” he grumbles, and if possible, Scott looks even more excited.

“He finally told you?”

Stiles has always scoffed at movies that show reaction shots in slow-motion, but the second the words leave Scott’s mouth he swears that’s what happens. Everyone in the living room—hell, possibly everyone in the house considering 63% of them have super-hearing—turn and look at them slowly, mouths open. He stops with the pizza an inch from his lips; so close he can almost taste it, the smell of the fancy pepperoni that crisps up into cups and Italian seasoning flooding his senses. “Bwah?”

In the few moments that it takes Stiles to realize the implication of what Scott said the air fills back up with chatter, the strained, forced kind that makes it immediately apparent that everyone except his best friend is slightly uncomfortable. Because Scott, bless his heart, looks at Stiles with something akin to pity. “Dude,” Scott says, “he took that pizza off of Cora’s plate.”

“Probably because you assholes order it for me and then eat it all before I get a chance to get any,” Stiles says, finally shoving the slice in his mouth, manners be damned. “He feels sorry for me. Like I’m a weak, defenseless animal. You know he’s got a savior complex.”

Scott gives him a pained look. “He built an entire deck for your dad.”

Stiles waves his hand around, cheese sliding dangerously off the pizza as he does. “Please, he was paid for that. In barbecue, sure, which my dad was definitely not supposed to be eating, but I can generously let it go. Once.”

“Stiles, he paid your tuition when you talked about having to get a part time job!”

“Uh, I’m pack?” Stiles says, because seriously, he’d also paid for—well. He doesn’t actually know, but he’s sure Derek did, he’s got more money than he knows what to do with. He’s always blowing it on whatever Stiles tells him he should buy.

“So are we and he doesn’t do that for the rest of us, you dumb fuck,” Jackson says from across the room, confirming Stiles’ suspicion that they were all listening in. “He’s wooing you, Stilinski. And now he knows you know it, so either get into the kitchen where he’s cowering like a bitch or freak out and leave.”

Stiles stares at him for a moment and whips back around to Scott, mouth open and mind racing; when Scott nods encouragingly he sets his plate down on the couch and vaults over the back, staggering for two steps before gaining his footing and skidding as he rounds the corner into the kitchen where Derek is standing facing away from him, shoulders tense as he stares down at the counter.

“Hey,” he says, clearing his throat, but Derek doesn’t turn around. “It’d probably be pretty difficult to get all of them out of here, but we could, ah, get out of here? Go somewhere?”

Derek’s body shifts, relaxes, and he turns around looking not angry or upset, but cocky as ever. “Yeah?” he says, expression not giving anything away.

Stiles resists the urge to roll his eyes and meets his gaze instead. “Yeah,” he says, grinning. The smile Derek gives him in return isn’t blinding but small and soft, one just for him, and it’s perfect.

355 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

you’re my only hope sterek, 1k, thanksgiving fluff

“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”

“Derek!” Stiles says, looking frantically around the kitchen, phone shoved between his ear and shoulder. “I know that usually you’re supposed to thaw the turkey for days but last night I was nominated as the place to go for everyone who didn’t have a place to go and all the store had was a fifteen pound frozen solid turkey and I’ve left it out since I bought it but the damn thing is still frozen solid and I’m supposed to serve it in four hours. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

The wooden spoon he’d been looking for is balanced on the open refrigerator door. He snatches it up and spins to stir the gravy, the only thing he could think to make ahead of time that Lydia won’t kill him for nuking in the microwave right before dinner.

“You can cook it from frozen. It’ll take longer, about five hours, but serve some drinks and your friends will be fine waiting.”

Stiles looks at the compound butter he’d gotten—he can read recipes, thank you, he’s just in a panic—and frowns. “What am I supposed to do about, you know, seasoning?”

“Pull it after two hours and season it then. You’ll have to baste it, but you’ll be okay.”

“Great,” Stiles says, then curses when he realizes he’d laid his dish towel too close to the burner and it’s smoking. “Thanks!”

-----

“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”

“This isn’t a turkey question, is that okay?”

The voice that comes through the line sounds almost amused. “We’re here to answer all of your Thanksgiving dinner related questions.”

Stiles taps the pie pan on the counter. He’s unsure if it’s necessary, but he’s seen people do it to regular cakes on YouTube, so why not? “Dangerous,” he says, “because I have a lot of questions. Like—why? How is this the thing you want to spend your time doing on your holiday? What are your qualifications, anyway? Because for all I know you could be making shit up, but I have to admit the turkey is no longer frozen solid under your possibly-sound advice. Which leads me to: can I bake a cheesecake at the same time as a turkey? The oven’s at 375 if that makes a difference.”

“If that—you shouldn’t be cooking your turkey at 375!”

Derek sounds affronted, and Stiles would find that cute—at least he finds his semi-outraged voice cute because for God’s sake, it’s a turkey—but he doesn’t have the time. “The cheesecake, Derek. Can I do the cheesecake at the same time?”

“Not unless you’re good with soggy turkey skin. The steam from the water bath will affect it too much.”

Stiles frowns. “Yeah, the … water bath,” he says, and hopes it doesn’t sound like he has no idea what he’s doing. “What if I don’t mind soggy turkey skin?”

“You mind soggy turkey skin,” Derek says firmly, and Stiles laughs.

----

“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”

“Seriously, you’ve been at this for three hours,” Stiles says, because he had fully expected to get someone else on the line. Unless Derek is the sole employee—volunteer? He has no clue—he should have gotten someone else by now.

“Try eight,” Derek says. “Please tell me you turned the turkey down.”

“I’d feel bad lying to you,” Stiles says, grinning. “So it turns out I forgot the rolls, and I have a box of pancake mix but it says I need eggs, which I don’t have because I used them all in the cheesecake. Help me, Obi Wan, you’re my only hope.”

There’s a pause, and Stiles has a moment to hope he hasn’t broken Derek’s brain before he finally replied. “Oh, you’re thinking about making biscuits.”

“That’s what I said,” Stiles says, poking at the cheese sauce for his hopefully tolerable mac and cheese.

“You did not, but you don’t need eggs. Or pancake mix. Google a recipe for drop biscuits and so help me do not bake them at the same time as the turkey.”

“Aww, you know me so well, boo,” Stiles coos, and flips off the burner. “Why do you do this, anyway?”

“So people like you don’t give your friends and family food poisoning,” Derek says. “You’re safe, by the way, if you keep roasting the turkey at 375. It’ll be charred.”

“Drama queen,” Stiles mutters, and then puts his foot in his mouth by asking, “you’re not too busy cooking your own dinner?”

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539 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

because now i’m thinking about it—

imagine the jeep, quiet, on the drive back to beacon hills after stiles successfully got derek away from the fbi. stiles is asleep in the passenger seat, and derek—he’s not okay. he’s been working on it, on letting things go, on realizing what he can and can’t control and what is and isn’t his fault … but the old familiar feeling of guilt is back, clawing away up his lungs until he feels like he can’t breathe.

“can you tone down the angst over there, i’m trying to sleep,” stiles grumbles, shifting restlessly, irritably. derek doesn’t look over at him, not wanting to see the look on stiles’ face now that he’s had time to let it sink in that he gave up his entire future for derek, because they both know he blew his only chance. there’s a noisy sigh, another crinkle of the duct tape that’s holding the seat fabric together, and then stiles sighs. “if you’re worried about them catching up to us i covered my tracks really well, and there was an unfortunate accident that deleted—”

“i’m sorry,” derek says, low, the words dust on his tongue. it’s meaningless in the wake of the magnitude of what stiles did for him, but he has to try. “you shouldn’t have had to give up your internship—your dad wouldn’t have—”

“hey,” stiles snaps; there’s a growing intensity in the car that makes derek want to throw himself out of it, suffocating him. he grips the steering wheel tighter instead, waits for stiles to continue, waits out the forced, measured breathing and rising heartbeat that echoes in his ears. “i did the same thing my dad would have done for someone he loved.” the words are softer but no less heated, the conviction in them like steel.

he eases his fingers from the steering wheel, loosens his grip and forces himself to breathe away the dark spots that come from being lightheaded, to focus on keeping the blur out of the distance tail lights of the cars ahead of them.

“i’d do it again. and again, and again,” stiles adds into the silence. “i’d destroy a lot more than a crime scene to keep you safe, derek. do you understand?”

he can’t find the words, but when stiles reaches over and squeezes his shoulder, he’s not sure he needs them.

613 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#year in review #none of this surprises me in the least

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wiretchings · 1 year

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memory log #60

sunday, january 12th, 2025 -- 9:59 a.m.

well, it’s been nearly a week since i’ve updated this blog on what’s been going. after collapsing on tuesday, i got sick. everything got on top of me, so i guess my body tried to stop me by shutting down completely. i was bedridden for two days with a fever, my limbs were aching, and i had a piercing headache. i’ve been better for a few days now, but my wings are still a little sore from laying on them for two days straight.

i’ve been spending time with my roommates and sherry, and felix of course. he’s been sleeping in my bed with me, curled up against my side and purring all the while. i woke up to felix licking my bruised jaw this morning. it felt like someone was peppering kisses on my face and i caught myself whispering elliot’s name when i woke up. i haven’t gone looking for him or any leads on where he might be since earlier this week.

i do have one update, though.

i got a call from the woman working at the almost-abandoned post office, her name is candace, about a letter elliot dropped off early this morning. apparently he was already waiting outside when she pulled into the parking lot for her shift. candace asked him how he knew they were open on sundays, he said he didn’t. she said he was shivering and declined when she offered him a warm cup of coffee. elliot just handed her the letter and took off after thanking her for her kindness, so she called me right away because it felt urgent.

i was already lacing my sneakers by the time the phone call was over. i snuck out quietly, luckily tye was still asleep and carson was at work already. candace was very surprised to see me so soon after the call. i accepted her offer for coffee, i hadn't had anything yet this morning. she left to the back after giving me the letter, i think she wanted to give me some space. very sweet of her. i’ll transcribe what elliot said here:

“angel,

i told you not to go to my apartment.... i’m so sorry you got caught in the crossfire. i have a friend on the outskirts of the group that attacked you, he told me you know now. the least i can do is explain what happened.

you know that i come from money, and with that comes shitty decisions and getting involved with dangerous people. the problem is that once your family cuts you off, there’s no protection from those dangerous people anymore. on the night of christmas eve, i spotted one of the guys in the corner of my eye while we were dancing. he wasn’t supposed to be there and when i saw him pull out a knife, i wanted to get away from the crowd so that nobody got hurt. the blood on my leather jacket is the result of our not-so-little tussle outside the mansion in the middle of nowhere. he slashed my shoulder and his buddy had a gun, so i got grazed by a bullet on my thigh... but i’m okay! no infections, it’s all healing nicely. more sexy scars for me ;)

anyway, i stabbed the guy with the gun to get away. it was dark and i was bleeding a lot, so i think i got him in the side. i guess he didn’t make it. i didn’t stick around to find out, i was trying to focus on getting somewhere safe before i passed out in the middle of the road. i should have assumed that guys like that can’t go to the hospital without getting themselves arrested. his name was paul, he was their leader.

dean, i’m gonna be honest with you, i don’t know what to do. usually, i figure out a way to get myself out of this shit, but they don’t want money or drugs or property this time. they want my life. i might have to leave the state, actually. they’re probably tailing you now, though, just in case. so... i can’t give you any details. i’m sorry. giving candace this letter was risky enough, but you deserve to know.

the thought of you keeps me warm at night. i appreciate you trying to find me but i’d appreciate it more if you just lived your life for now :) like i said, i’ll find you when the time is right <3

yours, eli”

#captain's log #diary entry #blog entry #writing #words

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multiplayingorg · 1 year

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SWTOR: Every Day I'm Smugglin

| Repost: Originally posted by Steve "Slurms" Lichtsinn on December 29, 2011

The title is half true. I was a day one purchaser of SWTOR, so while it wasn’t expected by yours truly that I’d get in on the first day of early access, it didn’t surprise me when I did. Every day since, I’ve logged some amount of time on my Smuggler, even on the two days last week when I was under the weather. I love him, but I'm not sure he lives up to the namesake.

My lack of posts on the blog have been largely due to the amount of time I’ve spent playing, which explains why this is the first post-launch write-up I’ve done regarding the game and I’m already level 26. I started writing numerous times over the past couple weeks, but either I didn’t feel like I was saying anything worth reading or I just couldn’t peel myself away from TOR long enough to post them. But today I’m making the time to share some spoiler free thoughts on the Smuggler and the game as a whole. Then I’ll work on getting back to more regular writing for your amusement.

Overall the game is blowing me away. Historically I feed off of the developer and player made hype a bit too much, so I kept myself from learning any of SWTOR’s inner workings during the development stage. Well, as much as possible. I hoped to go into the game on day 1 with as much of an open mind and low expectations as possible. This method has worked out well for me, or the game is just good enough that it didn’t matter. Either way, wow.

While I can’t put all of my thoughts on the game into a single post, I want to highlight some of my favorite and least favorite attributes thus far.

SPACE COMBAT

Like others, I hoped and dreamed of twitch space combat the likes of X-Wing vs Tie Fighter or X-Wing: Alliance, but it was not to be. Really, how could we expect BioWare to inject such a touchy system of online play into a much more massive game? I learned early on that what was going to be included was an on-rails-esque shooter, so I simply waited to see what they did with it. As someone who had great gobs of fun playing Rebel Assault and Rogue Squadron, the space combat in TOR clicked with me. It’s simple, yes, but it’s arcade-y fun that I can’t help but go back nearly every night. It doesn’t take much time and it gives me that taste of the off-planet Star Wars universe I desire.

PVP WARZONES

I’ve not done enough PvP to speak on the subject in detail. That will come later in my memoirs. But from the handful of Warzones I have participated in, I’m sold on the idea. Well… mostly. Having not played any of them with a full compliment of friends (though our guild hosted PvP nights will remedy that) I don’t think I’ve had the fullest extent of fun possible. Yet, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the amount of teamwork present…

…except in Huttball.

MISSIONS

Welcome to the broken record part of the blog post. This is where you’ll find that, just like almost everyone who’s been enjoying the game, I find missions to be fun, but mostly the same. Yes, you’re still doing the same old kinds of quests… but…. DIALOGUE! It changes my attitude from, “I may fall asleep at this keyboard,” to “I’m doing something important!” Truth be told; even missions will one day get old, but the nice thing is that between space combat and PvP I may not have to rely on them to level.

CRAFTING

Not too complex, not too simple. While I wondered how the system would be seeing as my character wasn’t going to be performing the tasks himself, I love that it’s really no different. I’m still clicking on nodes to loot stuff, I’m still clicking icons to craft items from materials I got from the nodes (or from missions), but I can now run missions or whatever while stuff is being done. I think BioWare nailed the crafting system in SWTOR, but I wonder how the economy will end up being. With the ability to mod some items all the way until end game, I wonder if there will be any benefit to crafted gear in the end, or if the mods will be the only worthwhile commodity. Time will tell, but I’m really enjoying it at the current moment.

STORY AND MY SMUGGLER

This might sound strange: I love my Smuggler… I like the Smuggler’s story, but I don’t feel like a Smuggler. Let me try to explain:

First and foremost; I’ve never played a class in any other MMO that I’ve felt fits me better than the Smuggler. The mechanics of playing a Scoundrel, mixing stealthy DPS with healing sounds nuts, but I’m having a blast with it. Being able to sneak my way into a fight, shoot someone in the back with a shotgun, then kick them in the groin, and then hit them with the butt of my blaster all while my Wookie companion tears into them with his Vibroblade (hot)… I have to admit it feels good. All this and healing! So fun!

I’m not sure I’m totally on board with my class’ missions though. I think they start off strong by telling a story of a guy who got screwed and then spends a lot of time trying to get what’s his with a side order of payback. I’m not to the point where payback has been resolved yet, but I will say I don’t feel like a “smuggler.” What I was hoping for was someone with a more compelling story along the lines of a Zeerid Korr from the Deceived novel. THAT was a guy who had some rough stuff going on in his life and had to do some nasty work in order to climb his way out of a bad situation. Something I felt that was underlying with Han Solo’s story, but is missing from my character in SWTOR.

I think it can be broken down in two parts (remember, these are what I find to be shortcomings with the class on a personal level, I’m sure others see no issues even though those people are probably assholes):

1 – The rate at which you do class missions is too slow to communicate who you are in the world. When I do my class missions, I can almost see what BioWare intended me to be, but when I’ve got hours of gameplay in-between, which has nothing to do with my core story, the impact of it feels lost. Perhaps the bigger issue is that I was really hoping to play the Smuggler as someone who does some “not so on the level” shit, but when it came down to it, fought for the good of the republic. It feels more like I’m picking up someone else’s dirty work that really wasn’t all that dirty while trying to get back at him for inconveniencing me.

2 – My dialogue choices are far too binary. I’ve held issue with BioWare games in the past for feeling as though there is no gray area. I had hoped this would feel different, especially since by nature the Smuggler (this also applies to Bounty Hunters) is a mercenary style of character in spirit. They are out to do work that will get them fortune, with maybe a side of fame, independent from the warring factions of the Republic or Empire. Given this, I hoped to have more dialogue options that felt more “reluctant to do the task, but hey, money!” Instead I have 1: “I’ll do it for the Republic!” 2: “You’re about to see a real live hero in action” (a.k.a. many repeated lines that have no impact) or 3: “I’M A TOTAL DICK”

The worst offender is the third option. While with dialogue choices 1 and 2, you pretty much get the general idea that you’re being a nice guy, the text for option 3 will many times read like you’re going to be a smartass but then the voice track plays and often makes my jaw drop from just how much of an asshole I sound like. This works for people who are going in with the mentality that they’ll just pound on “3” to make a dark side character, but as someone who wants to mold a character based on the text presented; it’s shit.

What I really would have loved to see is option 2 be more of an “I’m a wise-ass neutral, but if you’re paying, I’ll take care of it with gusto.” Option 1 will sometimes yield me this result, but it’s too infrequent for my tastes.

I know it probably sounds like I’m shitting on the character. The funny part is that even though I don’t feel like the dialogue options presented are what would be best or most fun for the character I still adore my Smuggler and SWTOR as a whole. I love a lot of the stuff that happens in the class story, but not necessarily what my character is doing (except the [flirt] option. Those responses are almost always dynamite). It just seems I love him more for the class than for his place in the story side of the universe.

I’m only level 26 though…maybe my tune will change.

#throwback thursday

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