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rosietrace · 1 month

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Jealous Girl

(Central) Characters Featured: Camilla Marigold, Mitch Reiss

↳ { Mitch belongs to @/authoruio }

Others mentioned/featured: Davidson Novellion, Neige Leblanche

Pairing: Camilla Marigold & Mitch Reiss

Event: Valentine's Day 2024 💌

↳ Type: Non-requested Oneshot! 「 Displaying Jealousy 」

Synopsis: He wasn't hers, and neither was she his. So why was it that when Mitch spent more time with people who weren't her, Camilla wanted to turn them to stone?

Warning(s): Camilla /j /j, Cami's a bitch but what else is new, Neige is oblivious to all 😔, Mitch thinks Cami's a witch but you just need to replace a letter- 💥🔫, potentially ooc

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

[ Reblogs > Likes ]

†•°•══════ஓ๑「𓆙」๑ஓ══════•°•†

Camilla never got jealous. She always told herself (and others) that, and usually she's entirely truthful about that fact about herself, in particular.

While Camilla was never the most honest among her peers, when it came to how she expressed herself — especially around people she considered ‘friends’ — she's an open book.

Unfortunately for the students of Royal Sword Academy, it seemed most of the student body had to walk around with a blindfold over their eyes; Camilla Marigold’s in a sour mood and that never ended well.

It was during lunchtime when Camilla spotted Mitch. The girl was quite enamored with the young man, and it wasn't hard to see why.

Mitch was… Well, Mitch was a lot of things, and one of those things was that he happened to be Cami's type.

Tall — taller than she was —, spoke his mind, pushed himself to his limits, intelligent (to some degree), and had an attractive face.

… Okay, maybe the details were pretty vague about why Camilla was attracted to him other than his looks, but trust that she liked him for more than that!!

Anyway! To transition into a more important topic, Camilla leaned against her table, grumbling to herself with narrowed eyes.

Neige had taken it upon himself to give Mitch some company, babbling about boring kinds of topics like… Whatever it is bland prince charmings like Neige talked about.

Ugh, Camilla hissed beneath her breath, the scales beneath her uniform beginning to itch. That little brat just doesn't know when to shut up, huh?...

“Are you watching Mitch again?”

Camilla released a large hiss, her hair on the brink of turning into her gossip-loving serpents. Upon seeing that it was just Davis — “blander than his color palette” — Novellion, Camilla just rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Mitch and Neige.

“None of your business,” she retorted. Then she processed what Davis said before. “Also- What do you mean, again?”

“I thought it was obvious.” Davis was a lot of things, but at least he and his pompous ass knew what boundaries were and didn't try making himself comfortable on Camilla's table. “You like him.”

She hissed again. “I do not!”

“You do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“I'm not having this conversation with you,” Davis exhaled, exasperation evident in the way he carried himself.

Probably because of that jousting incident last week, Camilla elicited a series of pitiful yet disgusted sounds at Davis' injured arm hanging from its cast.

That wasn't important, however. A different story for a different day. Whatever Davidson Novellion had going on in his life wasn't any of her business.

“Just-” Whatever words tried to get out of Camilla, she preferred not getting in trouble for offending a prince. “Just leave. Seriously, just leave.”

Davis gave her a knowing look, then shrugged his shoulders, letting them relax once he walked away from Camilla's isolated lunch table.

Not before telling her one last thing, though.

“If you think you were being subtle about your jealousy, Marigold, do keep in mind that you were never good at being subtle.”

•𓆙°─────────°𓆙•

Camilla wasn't the jealous type!

Whatever nonsense Davis was spouting, that's all it was. Nonsense. Camilla wasn't petty enough to stoop down to that level!

To prove any accusers wrong, she decided to try and be nice for once! Approaching Neige and Mitch with her best attempt at a polite smile.

A half-assed attempt to convince Mitch she wasn't someone to be wary of, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Leblanche!” Camilla ran up to Neige with a hearty grin, nearing the urge to gag at the way she ran like a befreckled lovestruck schoolgirl.

Neige turned to face her, that sickeningly sweet smile of his never seeming to fade. “Ah, Mari! It's so good to see you again!”

“Yes, quite!...” Camilla clasped her hands together, her smile painfully close to twitching away. She looked to Mitch, trying to gauge a reaction out of his impassively handsome face and getting next to none.

She harrumphed, pushing past Neige to stand before Mitch, face to face.

Mitch’s eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What is it that you want, Camilla?”

“Aha,” she smiled, cocking her head to one side and feigning coyness with him. “I'm not sure I get what you mean, Reiss.”

“Your presence isn’t welcoming.”

“I'd beg to differ, but I suppose we all have our opinions.”

“Your smile. It's-”

Her grin widened, and eyelashes batted at him. “Dazzling?”

Mitch straightened his stance. “Half-assed.” There remained his no-nonsense, emotionless expression.

Oh, how I wish to kiss you, Camilla thought whilst looking into his eyes. And strangle you all the same.

“So!” Neige just had to chime in, didn't he? “Mari, did you need something?”

“Yes, actually!” Camilla grit her teeth, her attitude becoming notably less sly and more forcefully cheerful.

“I've been meaning to spend some time with Mitch.”

Her gaze wanted to meet Mitch's, her smile having turned genuine with a simple turn of her head towards him. “If he would care to join me.”

“Oh! I'm sure Mitchy wouldn't-”

“That won't be necessary.”

Ah. It seems Neige was delighted by the prospect that needn't involve him, yet Mitch? Not so much.

“Oho? Why is that?” With her patience wearing thin, Camilla's attention remained solely on Mitch. Whatever Neige had to say could wait to be processed later.

Mitch sure wasn't persuaded. Then again, he never was when it came to Camilla's venom-laced tongue. “I'm sure you know exactly why.”

“I don't quite follow,” one step forward.

Another step forward. “I believe that to be false.”

“Is that so?” Camilla's smile faltered. Just the slightest bit closer, and Mitch could note the detail of scales on her neck. Perhaps even feel her breath against his chin.

“I'd prefer keeping things brief,” Mitch began escorting Neige far, far away from her. “But after what had gone down during VDC, I don't feel inclined to leave Neige to his own devices.”

“Apologies, but I must decline your offer.”

That didn't feel, nor sound, like an apology.

Camilla watched, with an inferno of aggravation lighting up in her eyes, as Mitch and Neige’s silhouettes slowly became colored shapes in the distance.

Her unique magic activated all on its own, mostly due in part to the way her emotions were affecting her current state of mind.

Her golden blonde locks lifted, the feeling all but unnerving when they melded together and became the serpents she both loved and despised.

“Oh, my darlings,” she whispered, practically hissed. A poor try at recovering her bearings. “You won't believe the gall of that man…”

No one dared draw near Camilla, especially not with her serpents around. Eye contact became something to avoid, and any greetings from friends were all but brief — no matter her efforts, Camilla couldn't help but tempt fear into the hearts of her peers.

She grit her teeth as she entered the comfort of her bedchambers. One of her many ways of relaxing was to hold one of her rifles.

Not shooting it, not loading it with ammunition, not even toying around with it… All she had to do was just hold it. And she felt content.

But a plethora of thoughts came to mind. Many of them unwanted, particularly in the topic of impassive little Mitch; A man who wasn't quite so little.

Camilla laid down on her bed, wrapping a blanket around and curling up pathetically — repeating the same words in her head like it was some mantra.

I am not a jealous girl.

•𓆙°─────────°𓆙•

She wasn't jealous!!

Camilla was a lot of things: Hypocritical, cunning, a bit too persistent for comfort, but not jealous!

With a need to blow off steam after that encounter with Neige and Mr. “I must decline your offer”, Camilla went to the beach that stood near RSA’s campus building.

With her pistols in hand, she swung and spun them around between her fingers — taking deep and heavy breaths to allow a sense of calm to wash over her.

That was when she began firing shots.

There wasn't much land or transportation near Sage Island. It was one of the reasons why Camilla was being so careless about where she was shooting.

However, when the sounds of footsteps over the sand drew near, Camilla pointed one of her guns at whoever dared approach her.

Mitch stopped in his tracks, an unsurprising face of neutrality as Camilla pointed her gun at him; A lack of fear at the possibility she'd get pissed off just from looking at him and pull the trigger.

“What are you doing here?” Camilla forced the words to come out.

“I could ask you the same thing,” said Mitch, “Isn't it unsafe for you to be firing those shots so carelessly?”

His tone was so matter-of-fact it made her want to hurl. “There's nothing and no one nearby. What am I gonna shoot? The seagulls?”

“You could if you were sufficiently motivated enough.”

“Don't test my patience, Mitch.”

“And,” Mitch continued, lowering her gun and taking another step towards her, “I don't remember us being on a first-name basis.”

“I don't remember you having the privilege of interrupting me while I was blowing off steam, but I'm not making any remarks, am I?”

“It sounds like you are.”

Camilla scoffed, putting one pistol into the holster to give Mitch a dismissive wave of her hand.

Mitch had a lot of opinions about Camilla Marigold — some good, many of them bad. But one of her key figures of interest was…

Well, she was pretty. Not even someone like Mitch could deny something like that. Especially not when her golden hair seemed to glow under the light of the sunset.

Whatever blabber Camilla was saying, Mitch couldn't hear it. He didn't feel the need to. Not with the way she stood there so horribly prettily with her shining hair blowing in the wind.

It was an oddly specific, yet significantly romantic setting. The kind of scenario Mitch refused to bring up in whatever conversation he was having with her.

“... You said you were blowing off steam?”

Her ramblings fell short at his words, and they both stared at each other for longer than what seemed necessary.

She coughed, avoiding his attentive gaze. “Yeah… Why, you got a problem with that?”

Mitch huffed. “I don't.” He then looked down at the ground, at the soft sand beneath them, before looking up once more.

“... May I?” He reached out to gently touch her face, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear.

Camilla felt heat rise from her neck up to the tip of her head. “W-What are you doing??” She nearly stumbled as she stepped back.

“Apologies,” Mitch said briefly, “but I asked you a question?”

“Well sorry, Mr. Personal Space, but I didn't quite follow.”

Silence soon fell upon them yet again, lasting far longer than it did before. So unnerving even with the contrived peacefulness of it all.

Camilla pouted. Both her pistols were in their respective holsters, her arms folded over her chest. “Well?”

Mitch’s eyes flickered their attention between her, her eyes, and the pistols safely tucked into their holsters.

He said nothing for a long while, doing nothing but gaze at her with that attentive, almost lost look in his eyes.

He gestured to one of her pistols. And when she — very cautiously — handed one of them to him, he aimed at the far distance.

“... Would you allow me the honor of joining you?”

†•°•══════ஓ๑「𓆙」๑ஓ══════•°•†

Taglist

—

Written for

@authoruio

—

🥥

@starry-night-rose || @jasdiary || @nem0-nee || @fumikomiyasaki || @sakuramidnight15

—

「 Etteilla ♢」

@hallowed-delights || @geminiiviolets || @twsted-princess || @twistedsongstressofstarz / @absolutelyobsessedkiya || @mystery-skulls-ghost || @abyss-wonderer

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst ocs #mutuals <3 #mutuals oc #friends' oc #mitch reiss #regressor mitch #camilla marigold #『 camilla 🐍 』#oc x oc #twst #disney twst #ツイステ #ツイステッドワンダーランド #twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #[2024] rosie valentines day ❣️

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01turnkill · 2 months

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2024 Media Post Time - Master

5. Splatoon 3: Side Order DLC

Side Order! Like everyone else, I'll be comparing this to Splatoon 2's Octo Expansion DLC..

I loved Octo Expansion a lot, I even 100% completed it (every stage with every weapon) and I intend to do that for this DLC too. I've finished it with every palette so far but I haven't maxed all my chips yet.

I'm a big roguelike fan. Love Hades, Spelunky, Binding of Isaac, Darkest Dungeon. They're fun to play and a lot of fun to watch. Before Side Order, I haven't played a proper 3D shooter roguelike before so it was a fun experience. Well... Side Order is a roguelite so a lot of these elements but not completely random, since the levels you play are from a set.

Side Order is a lot of fun for me. It definitely feels closest to Hades of all the roguelikes I mentioned. With the different weapon selection, selecting from 3 upgrades at the end of each level, the same few bosses, Marina's hacking shop is JUST like Nyx's darkness. Some of the upgrades are similar too and the Danger floors are like Chaos' upgrades with a benefit but a sacrifice for a limited amount of time. I played a round of SO with dualies, and damage whenever I dodge rolled and it felt exactly like some of the dash boons in Hades.

This isn't a bad thing and it's still unique being 3D, the different tower and zone modes, limited colour chip palette. Maybe other stuff.

To be honest, Octo Expansion trumps Side Order lorewise.. And gameplay wise too it was more diverse.. though not replayable the same way. I 100 percented it, every level every weapon and it was pretty fun. but I didn't go back. The story is quite simple and not too dark, and for some reason with the trailers I thought the tower would be MASSIVE. Near 60-100 floors, PMD feelings here. Especially since we get told the "danger" levels will be more common if we go a while without playing one.. Maybe true but they're also completely avoidable. I was also really surprised to see that we get Marina with us immediately after the tutorial part of everything and she's just there the whole time like, cool but I thought it would be deeper than that.

The levels definitely get repetitive and I end up mastering them very quickly. My first time on Cruel_Sisyphean_Eight-Shaped.Floor for instance, took me over 12 minutes on a casual run. Now, even without hacks I can do it in a couple minutes (not tryharding). Then theres On-the-Run(Circles)_Eternally-Hunted.Floor. It's a grind but this one I had in the bag easily after probable my second time and those were probably the only levels I had trouble with first time at all. Some levels stayed fresh every time I played them, especially with low hacks, but not those two even though they were challenging and stood out to me at first.

At least the colour chips and palettes can make each run crazy different. My first run with brush was insane, I regained ink fast enough that I never needed to recover in swim form. Just endlessly attacking. I didn't have too much difficulty with any weapon except for the Octoshot of course as it limits the amount of chips and hacks you can have at once... and I'm not sure if it was because of the low hacks but I failed it a TON, especially on the smollusk fight which was annoying. Most of the palettes were a first time win for me and if not it was on my 2nd try and I only added hacks when it came to my last few palettes so I don't know if I was just fumbling or what but I eventually did it with one hack for damage resistance and one for life I think... can't remember. I tried a couple things.

Smollusk is kind of cool once you finish visiting them and I feel like there is more to think about and potential with their circumstances, I'd like to see more. I just crave suffering you know how I am. I'd like to see it more painful and conflicting. There's some reading between the lines to be done also with Acht and the Marina dev logs and the way octolings are as a whole. Might write my thoughts on them later.

#my collection #ksh #ksh media post

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soul-sparx · 1 year

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RYU’S SFV COSTUMES RATED

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve done one of these, but they were some of my favorite posts on my old blog before it got nuked, so I figured I’d do another just for fun, and who better to choose than the series main character, in his final outing in the role?

Default

9/10

Ah, Ryu’s typical look. What can be said about it that already hasn’t been said? Not a whole lot. Ryu has aged gracefully in the past more than 35 years, and is one of the characters least affected by SFV’s confusing, pseudo-realistic art direction. The only marks I have against this are the color of his gi, and his hairstyle. On the gi, it looks like he hasn’t washed it since the first SF game came out back in 1987. That thing crunches when he walks. I get they’re going for a worn, used look, but I feel like they pushed it a bit too far here. As for his hair, I was just never a fan of the black, spiked look. I much prefer the look from SFII-- dark brown and brushed forward, hanging over his bandana with some weight on it. Ultimately, though, these are small marks against an otherwise great take on an old look.

Story

7/10

“But Ava!” you may say, “Doesn’t this costume do exactly what you criticized the default costume for not doing?”

Yes it does, however a couple things make it far less appealing to me. To start with positives, the color of his gi and belt are much better, still looking worn and used but not outright dirty. This Ryu takes care of himself and his stuff. That said, in trying to replicate the Street Fighter Alpha look, they made some...odd choices. Lightening his skin makes him look paler, not sickly but...getting there. I’m not going to call it whitewashing, because I don’t think it is, but it is a strange choice. His hair looks...molded, rather than brushed, like a clay headpiece you’d customize a Lego minifigure with. Finally, they tried to apply an odd cel-shading look and, what little consistent artstyle SFV has does not work with cel-shading. Overall, I’d say it’s a good idea with less than stellar execution.

Battle

10/10

Now THIS is how Ryu should’ve looked by default in this game. Theoretically, Ryu’s story in this game is the culmination of his battle with the Satsui no Hado, and this haggard, worn-down Ryu comminucates that beautifully. The torn, dirty pants, the unkempt beard (which also shows him working to defeat the Satsui no Hado, bringing him closer to his master, Gouken, visually), the ramshackle sparring gloves made of nothing but tightly-tied sports tape, this is Ryu at his lowest, ready to reach his highest, and I’m so glad they based his appearance in SF6 on this costume.

B-Boy

9/10

Now look, I get it, this is goofy, this is out of character, this is just stupid. But... I kind of love it for that? Like, it’s so goofy and out of character that it becomes hilarious and I gotta love it for that. On top of that, it’s actually pretty solid? Functionally speaking? The silvery pants and coat mirror his gi, and the black shirt and black trim of his jacket keep the emphasis on his arms and legs, further emphasized by the red shoes, rings, and wristbands. Like...it’s stupidly fun AND doesn’t hamper gameplay. How am I supposed to get mad at this?

Halloween

6/10

Don’t get me wrong, this costume is VERY cool, but I feel like the everpresent stark red might betray its functionality. I feel like it’s at least inspired by Bishamon from Darkstalkers, but Bishamon makes up for his almost all-red color palette with gold trims and wide, open posing that makes every keyframe clear. This has the gold trims, but Ryu’s posing is very closed and guarded. I’m sure it’s still usable, but it’s not nearly as readable as, for example, the default or b-boy costumes.

Capcom Pro Tour 2017

8/10

I'll admit, my understanding of Japanese culture is limited, but this does feel like some kind of traditional festival attire, and to that end I think it's very successful and fairly in-character for Ryu. He strikes me as a traditionalist, and I'm sure he's very popular in the village that I'm certain lies just down the mountain path from Suzaku Castle. It also works well from a functional aspect. His exposed arms and red gloves contrasted against blue/white ropes bring proper attention to his arms for moves like the Hadouken and Shoryuken, while the black vest draws your eye downward into his blue, long, wide pants to prepare you for moves like the Tatsumaki Senpukyaku. I'm curious about the purpose behind the dragon on his back, if that serves as a cultural reference, but it looks cool without getting in the way of functionality, so I can't be mad at it.

School

7/10

I question the choice to make this costume in the first place, it seems odd, but it looks fairly cool and is perfectly functional between the rolled up sleeves, long coat, and tapestry lining the coats inside to keep the legs visible. Doesn't do anything for me, and is kind of weird from a character perspective, but it does what it sets out to do and I don't have any real gripes with it.

Arthur - Ghosts ‘n Goblins

5/10

I have nothing to say here that I didn't cover with the Haloween costume. I do appreciate the Ghosts 'n Goblins reference, but thst doesn't excuse bad readability.

Jin Saotome - Cyberbots: Fullmetal Madness

4/10

Same as above, but I'd say it's even worse here. If you notice, his shoulders, elbows, knees, and feet are covered by a kind of metallic material. In artwork, as well as sprites in Marvel vs. Capcom 2 (Jin's only playable appearance outside of a mecha), those metallic parts are a starker, darker silver color in order to make his posing more readable despite his all-white outfit. In other words, they actively made the design worse for...seemingly no reason.

Mega Man - Mega Man

9/10

This is so goddamn funny to me. Like, Mega Man is this tiny little Astroboy knockoff, he's not even 5 feet tall. Meanwhile Ryu is this hulking, muscular mass of meat. It's so funny to me how much this doesn't fit. As for readability, Mega Man is already one of the best designed video game characters ever made, so this is perfectly fine functionally.

Kairi - Street Fighter EX

8/10

I'm not particularly familiar with this character, as I've only played SFEX once, but it's very cool to see them referencing such an obscure piece of SF history. Not to mention, it just looks cool. Not much to say beyond that.

Track Suit

5/10

Eh....if you remember my old costume reviews, you know I'm not a fan of these. They're fine functionally, but I have no idea why every character has one, and they just get boring and tiring after looking at them 14 times over.

BCRF

8/10

It's pretty cool. It looks oddly tactical, and I don't really get the asymmetrical look-- why bring so much attention to one arm over the other, it's not like Yamazaki's right arm in Fatal Fury/KoF, which contains the power of a god. Ultimately, though, it was for a good cause and it works well enough. Not gonna complain.

#ramblin #street fighter #ryu #ryu street fighter #street fighter v

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sugar-phoenix · 8 months

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Why I'm not scared of AI

So, with the advent of AI, and how people are using AI generated images, drawings, and writing, I've seen a lot of people terrified that they'll lose their jobs. That these robots will perform better than they ever could, that these robots will basically render human creativity useless.

Let me give a little exposition: Even before AI, I was never content with stealing images from the internet for my own uses.

When I became skilled enough, I drew my own profile pictures, my own wallpapers, my backgrounds, my book covers, etc. Only recently, for religious reasons, I stopped drawing humans and animals and therefore I've used images from Pinterest sparingly. It's still never as satisfying. There are ideas within my head that you cannot find anywhere. You may find close to them, but it will never truly be them.

Enter AI. The magical software that could give you whatever you wanted. At first, with AI art, I did generate some, when it was much early on, before I had learned that it scraped others' arts. It was clunky, and limited, and sure, it was early on, so of course it didn't give me what I wanted.

I tried it again much later. When I had some idea that it scraped other people's arts, I tested the waters. Surely, out of all the art that it scraped, it could make the idea in my head. I never meant to use the image or generator for malicious reasons, I wanted to see if it could truly transcend human art.

The prompt was simple: I wanted it to draw me a drawing of a boy with white hair, blue eyes, and crescent moon marks at the corners of his eyes. Anyone with any skill could draw this.

Nothing. I kept rewording my prompts. It would give me boys, it would give me boys with blue skin, dark hair, light hair, blue eyes, white eyes, but never a crescent moon mark anywhere on their face. It simply had no idea what I meant when I wrote that in my prompt. For all the seemingly high quality art it gave me, the magical anime styles, the digital painted styles, it was even worse than a child. Because I could ask a child to draw me that prompt, and they would try to give me exactly what I wanted. Even if the shapes were wonky, even if the moons were half moons rather than crescent moons, at least the child would know what I wanted, would give me something within their ability that covered all the elements I wanted.

Now, let's switch around to text-based AI. When I first discovered character.ai I thought it was mesmerizing. I was addicted to talking to a fictional character. But soon enough, I found myself choosing the character's answers to my roleplays. I would flip through ten, fifteen answers, and I would always be settling. Never truly happy. The ai was smart, I'll give it that. It would remember things from previous prompts or answers. But it couldn't give me a new piece of writing it hadn't seen before. It couldn't make up a new reaction to what I had given it. Sometimes it surprised me, but it usually gave me regular, repeated, cliché reactions. Like as if I was roleplaying with a fourteen year old who had just started roleplaying, but I'll say it was even worse than that.

After a while, I realized that writing a fanfiction with a self insert would be better and more efficient than playing with character.ai.

Now, what do I mean to say by all this?

Technology is limited by what it knows. Perhaps we think that it isn't, because as humans we take in other people's stuff all the time. We see others' arts, others' writings, and we write/draw stuff based off of those all the time. Sometimes you'll find yourself writing or drawing something someone else has already. We all know this by now: there are no more "original" plots. Everything you write has probably been written already, or very close to it. I'm not sure the same can be said for art but as an artist you would find yourself drawing with a color palette someone else has already used, you'd be drawing creatures with aspects from nature or from someone else's fictional characters.

But the thing is. Out of those things, you can make something new. You can make something unique. I'm writing a story where I twisted Red Riding Hood and Rapunzel together, where Daciana is Rapunzel and the Wolf simultaneously, where Rhydian is the Prince and the Huntsman simultaneously. If I fed AI Red Riding Hood, and Rapunzel, and fed it several thousand YA fantasy books, then told it to write me a twist between Rapunzel and Red Riding Hood, I don't think it could give me my plot. I don't care if we wait 50 years, or 100 years. It would give you some cliche, some copy of a YA fantasy book but replace some of the characters with Red Riding Hood or Rapunzel. But you don't get Daciana's wolf-hair shifting magic. You don't get how Rhydian's kingdom has a history with the Wolves that live in the deep forest. Why? If we asked the computer, it would simply say: "I haven't seen that yet. I didn't know you could do that."

It doesn't think outside the box.

That's what makes it different. It can never think outside the box. No matter how lifelike it feels, no matter how you think that the computer is on the verge of becoming human, it's only mimicking what we do. It only works with what it knows, it can't try something new. It can't experiment.

Humans can.

In fact, you need a human to train the machine. You actually need human eyes, human content, to feed into the machine. There is a human driving the machine to give more accurate outputs. Without a human training the machine, it would never be what it is now. The computer needs the human.

And so I think that text-based AI, and image-based AI will only, in the future, do the same work as what we know as "cheap labor." People who don't want to pay, yet sacrifice originality for not paying. Less-than-amateur work. I think that big companies, people who actually want quality work, unique work, work that makes them stand out from the crowd, whether that be an illustration for an advertisement, a logo, a website design, an app design, they'll hire a human being who can think outside the box. This is what a lot of companies want anyway, at least companies who are worth their salt. They want someone who can think, who can make something without being spoon-fed a bunch of information.

Anyone who is afraid of AI art/text, I highly recommend you go ahead and generate something. Just test it. Try getting it to generate something you want to draw. Generate something you want to write. I spent thirty minutes the other day, desperately trying to have it generate a story idea. Try getting AI to generate exactly the image in your mind, exactly the vibe of the story you want. Try that out, see how far that gets you. Know that whenever someone says "I don't need you, I can just use AI instead" that this is what they're getting. They're working with the equivalent of a child who has never been taught to think for themselves, instead only copying and mimicking things they've already seen. Perhaps combining what they've mimicked, but never in creative new ways, only in ways they've been taught to do so. The computer can never transcend what it's been taught. It always works within the rules it's given, even if it gives you something new, like a calculator calculating the output of a new formula you haven't seen before.

New technology has always scared human beings, because you're experimenting with something you don't quite understand the limits of. People buy into technology they don't full understand either. It's times like these where it's imperative to understand the limits of what you're looking at, and imperative to let things settle before making any judgements yet.

I understand that there's been a lot of changes and things are in the air. Artists/writers are getting fired because their companies think AI can do the job better, people are getting their artwork stolen. There's a lot of problems at the moment, but ultimately, I think that AI will never replace true human creativity. And that's something to hold on to in the midst of all this uncertainty.

#ai art #ai artwork #ai generation #ai discourse #on the subject of ai #ai discussion #ai #stop ai theft #machine learning #technology #✦ rants.

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rouninren · 9 months

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so i've been extremely overwhelmed by....... i guess everything online lmao, it's really hard to focus on things when you're constantly bombarded with things you don't really need at the moment

i'm trying to get back into journaling but damn it's so hard. i know my head isn't empty, i spawn walls of texts almost daily, but my mind goes blank when i'm in front of an open notebook because i don't know what's truly worthy of writing down? it's kind of like with drawing at this point. i'm stuck with the art block because i don't know what's worthy of drawing. and guess what made me feel this way? the social media lmfao. i hate that literally every idea i consider cool i never depict because my brain immediately goes like, "who cares about this?", "this won't get noticed and also you're too late, so don't be cringe", etc

i hate this so much idk. anyway, i think i'm going to make a list of things to focus on, both personal projects/artistic inspirations and fandom related ones. i do have things i overfixate on for years, so why am i letting myself be distracted by some random content ideas that only matter to me for like a day or two...?

i should also start limiting inspirations in general, looking at my folder rn and realizing that there are just WAY TOO MANY things i want to incorporate into my work and it really overwhelms me. reminds me of various artists saying that "less is more" and holy crap i should start limiting myself. this is something i slowly started to realize on my own when i did some pixel art, which is limited already due to its nature, with some color palettes instead of randomly staring at a color wheel for half an hour, not being able to decide which one to use.

also i found out about artfol, social media for artists, and so far it seems promising? haven't tried it yet, maybe i will upload some stuff there later. also maybe i'll finally sort everything here on tunglr dot com and make a separate art blog and will use this one as my "main"-diary-esque blog where i won't post much. it's not like i'm on here anyway, my dash feels overwhelming so i don't even scroll past 3-4 posts a day anymore on here. i'm tired of social media. it doesn't feel personal anymore, it's not fun, not interesting...

fomo effect used to fuck me up before something clicked and i stopped scrolling things. because due to nature of the modern internet, i have more chances of stumbling across useful/interesting information if i just keep scrolling through junk. since as you know, google is dead anyway, shit is hard to find these days, and indeed, every cool thing i managed to find was through random braindead scrolling (post 2016 i mean, i miss mid 2000s era when stuff was actually GOOGLEABLE and you didn't need to scroll long ass feed to stumble across cool things, you could get there at your own pace while just surfing the web). so the habit was made worse by "damn what if i miss some obscure post that features obscure cool thing that will matter to me once i get to know it??" but i'm just so fucking exhausted... everything i love about the internet because so dormant, niche even. the internet, as i define it, is dead to me. it's really heartbreaking

#ronin.txt #art rambles #social media addiction

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missellaneousworks · 1 year

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La Loteria - Bella BIOSHOCK AU - Audio Dairies

(During the Locate the Reporter quest line, Bella's audio diaries can be found during Subject Romero’s search. Some of these will give hints to her whereabouts or supply caches throughout the map. It also gives some insight into Bella's character. Pardon spelling errors.

Disclaimer: Bella is the only character I own and this is just me having fun with an AU.)

Diary 1- Sea Food

"If I have to take meager threats from another chef who went to culinary school in Paris, I'll show him what it means to be al dente! It's not my fault my review said that his bisque had the same exact flavor palette as the last three restaurants I reviewed!

(Sigh) The point of Rapture was to exceed the limitations that men have been placed under on the surface, but when you're at the bottom of the Atlantic, there are only so many fresh ingredients you can get before you end up having the same meal three times a day!

Never thought I'd get tired of lobster bisque of all things..."

Diary 2 - Investigative Journalism

"My editor-in-chief saddled me with an anonymous tip that was dropped off in our mail slot this morning, something about folks around our neighborhood disappearing. Said if I was so pressed for writing real news, I could do the leg work. I'm sure that hijo de puta was doing this as a punishment for refusing to write more reviews– (clears throat)

Anyway. It's not my usual field of expertise, but I can't deny there's definitely something going on around here. And if no one is touching this, well, who am I to refuse a challenge?"

Diary 3 - Meeting a Mermaid

"Bibles, rosemary beads, and other religious articles have been appearing in Rapture, which means there's a smuggling operation right under Ryan's nose! It’s not my place to judge anyone’s practice, but people are getting scared or attacked around the docks. Now that is something I will judge. The chatter is pointing towards Fontaine, but if he hasn't been arrested yet, that means there's no legitimate evidence. I may have poked my nose in the wrong crate last night… but as luck would have it, I had a guardian angel named Xochitl.

One of the singers at La Sirena caught me running in the back rooms. She could have told me to scram, but she actually pulled me into her dressing room and then made a loud enough ruckus to get the bouncer to notice.

Note to self: Buy Xochitl dinner sometime as a thank you."

Diary 4 - Deal With the Devil

There is someone down here whose motivations allude to me out of everyone. My mysterious informant, El Diablo. Well, that's what I'm calling him for now. His parcels always come with a print of El Diablo from the card game I grew up with. How dramatic. But, his information is good. A lot of it has been centered around good folks going missing, or if one of the elite brass is shoving their boot where it shouldn’t be. It’s brought attention to the issues: good and bad.

I tried asking Jaime if he’s heard anything about this… man… but for once in his damned life, he clamped up! I'm going to try to leave my radio frequency at the next dead drop, behind Montoya's workshop. Maybe I can contact him to find out if this Diablo is truly a friend… or just an opportunist."

Diary 5 - Interview with El Diablo

"Tell me something, Diablo."

"I can't guarantee it'll be what you want to hear, but go ahead."

"Hmph. Despite the fact that we've technically never met, you entrust me with very confidential information. Isn't it odd to work with someone you don't know?"

"I know you plenty."

"Oh? How interesting, because apart from a few fleeting rumors, I don't know much about you. Weeeelll, I know you've been in Rapture for a while. The community simultaneously knows of you but prefers not to speak of you. And as soon as someone stirs up trouble within your district, it vanishes just as quickly. Fontaine avoids you, which is surprising.."

"Sounds like you've been busy. And nosey."

"I don't need to remind you about my line of work. It pays the bills to be nosey and ask the right questions."

"Or dangerous. Especially in your case. You've hit a nerve with Fontaine. Others are taking notice as well."

"Yet I'm still here. I'm a big girl, Diablo, I can take care of myself."

"...sure you can. (Pause) Don't forget to feed the cat."

"I– what did you say?"

"The stray that hops on your balcony every night. Next to the cosmetics store sign."

"H-how did you–?"

"(chuckles) I told you, I know you plenty. Goodnight, kid."

Diary 6 - No Good Deed

(Sounds of chatter and clinking of glasses can be heard in the background, Jaime’s muffled laugh is heard in the background, too. Bella sounds intoxicated.)

My last article was a magnificent success. So much so that – (pauses to sip drink) some spliced up jockeys tried to get into my place. I can only guess who sent them because I pissed off their boss. I seem to be good at that (giggles).

Mama wants me to–hic!--wants me to stop. She said, “You’ve done enough good, surely you can stop now!”

‘Good.’ Heh. I don’t know about that. I got into being politicians’ and businessmen’s pain in the ass because I was bored to death with reviewing lobster bisque. I don’t believe that is a good enough reason… to be considered good. But… now I can’t unsee it. I catch wind of little girls going missing and I can’t help but think is it Ryan’s people? Fontaine? Or is someone else just as bad? How can I stop when I can’t unsee what Rapture is doing to its citizens? I don’t think I can. Not now.”

Diary 7 - The Last Headline

“Here’s the latest headline: Rapture is… it’s done. Diablo was right… he– he warned me something big was coming, then he went dark. He could be dead or–

Could I… could I have even done something? There had to have been something more I could have done. Otherwise, this was all for nothing! Why–

(Sound of distant gunshots, followed by screaming and a booming explosion)

–I can’t stay here. There will be time to contemplate how big of an idiot I am later. I think there’s a safe room in the basement of my father’s office. Hopefully, he’s been too much of a lazy bastard to change the combination from my fifth birthday party.

…Mama, I’m… sorry we couldn’t make up with Dad like you wanted. Hopefully, you’re in the safe room already. I’ll see you soon.

…Xochitl, Jaime. If you can hear this, I’ll contact you as soon as I can. But if you are able to, head to Athena Tower as soon as you can, I’ll be in the basement.

…Diablo, if you ever get a hold of this. You better not die, you smug bastard.”

(After listening to this audio diary, Subject Romero will find a picture of Bella as a young child, ‘Happy 5th Birthday, Bella! XX/XX. This number combo will give SR access to the bunker Bella is holed up in.)

#La Loteria #La Loteria Visual Novel #La Loteria Bioshock AU #MissElla's Works #LaLoteriaVN

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aanihtewrites · 2 years

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・🎨 ⸝⸝ ・Canvas

*sigh*

My eyes hover across the once empty canvas now filled with different colors giving it life. It isn't complete yet, I still have to go over the details and do some touch-ups here and there but, the painting looks so good already! I can't wait to see the reactions of everyone in the art department when they see this.

I felt an uncomfortable pressure build up in my lower back probably from the 3 hours I’ve been sitting on this wobbly wooden seat. The art room really needs some new furniture.

I decided to take a break, there’s still a week till the yearly art exhibition. I have enough time to work on the canvas.

A few droplets of murky paint water escaped the paint cup as I dropped my paintbrush in it, the acrylic paint palette sat right next to it. A happy hum left my mouth as I stood up and took off my apron while making my way to the common area in the middle of the art room.

I took a seat on the comfy love seat in one corner of the room and smack my lips. My eyes shifted to the table in the middle of the room for digital artists to sit at.

“Hey, Stacey! What are you working on?”, I called out, catching the attention of the blonde girl glued to her iPad screen.

“Working on an assignment. We have to study color and light theory and draw something based on what we learned.”, Stacey bubbly replied and held up her iPad for me to see. “I am drawing a tiger under the sunlight! How is it? Do you think it’s good enough?”

“Not bad, not bad. Can I see yours, George?”, I asked the brunette boy sitting right next to Stacy. He nodded as he held up his iPad. “I draw penguins.”

“Yep, penguins are always nice. Can’t wait to see the final work.”, I complimented him and watched as his face glowed up with happiness.

“You so kind. Thank you.”, George appreciated with the limited English vocabulary he knew. It isn’t easy for someone from French to catch on to a new language right after moving to the United States but, I always get surprised at his improvement with every conversation we have.

Both of them went back to work. I smile and relaxed in my seat, my eyes unmoving from the busy students.

“Stacy look so beautiful when she doing art. God, I like her so much.”

“George is so cute."

I heard in my head and chuckled under my breath before pulling my phone out from my jacket pocket. These two had the biggest crush on each other ever since they met. I don’t care if you call this “invading their privacy”, it’s fun hearing their thoughts.

Hearing people’s minds…what a blessing and a curse at the same time. I wonder what the gods were thinking when they gave me this mystical power. It’s pretty useful at times but sometimes I wish I never heard things I heard mistakenly for this power.

This power’s been with me for as long as I remember. I tried telling my parents about it of course but, they almost sent me to the mental asylum because apparently, I was going “crazy”. Those memories still haunt me, geez. I’ve been quiet about this ability ever since.

I wonder if anyone else can hear minds like me…

“The art room really needs some renovation.”, I heard an unfamiliar yet intoxicatingly addicting voice in my head followed by the sound of the creaky door swinging open. “Yeah, it can really use some better furniture and a new coat of paint.” My oh my, who is this fine man?

A perfectly sculpted face with big hazel eyes and beautiful brows, a nose so cute that I had to resist my urge to bop it, his hair looks so fluffy, that I wanna run my hands through them, and oh god, those lips…I wonder how they would look like on mine. Wait what am I thinking? Shit, Diana get yourself together you don’t even know him.

My head whipped up to the sound of a low giggle. It was the mysterious man. He put his poker face back on as we made eye contact. I frown, why couldn’t I read his mind anymore? I wanted to know what made him laugh…

“Are you Professor Diana?”, the boy asked, his husky deep voice making goosebumps rise all over my body. I nodded with a smile, trying to mask my nervousness.

“Yes! That’ll be me! Who are you may I ask?”, I asked as I stood up from the loveseat, my phone slipping back into my jacket pocket.

“Oh, I’m Aiden. I’ve been hired as an assistant art professor and the administration informed me that I’ll be working under you.”, he informed with a sweet smile on his face. I was screaming internally at this point. This is about to be added to my reasons for coming to the university. Who wouldn’t want to be here if you get to see this eye candy man every day?

“Nice to meet you, Aiden. It’s a pleasure to be working with you! I hope we’ll be close acquaintances in the near future!”, I extended my hand for a handshake. My heart is doing cartwheels in my ribcage. I wonder if all the sweat I am sweating right now is making me smelly. Is my makeup okay? I haven’t put much effort into it this morning. Ugh, I should have washed my hair yesterday.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when a veiny and humongous hand enveloped my embarrassingly small hands. Aiden firmly shook my hand before taking it back. He must be a master with his art. I can’t wait to see them.

“The feelings are mutual.”, Aiden replied. “So…who’s painting on that canvas.”

I looked in the direction he was pointing, realizing that he had his eyes on my unfinished painting from earlier. I knew I should have finished the painting at one seating. He must be thinking that I’m a work hoarder. What else are you going to mess up today, Diana?

“Uhh…yeah! I am the one working on it.”, I nervously replied as I took small steps towards the painting. “It’s for the annual art festival coming up next week. Sorry if it looks a little weird now, it’s unfinished. In case you’re wondering, I'm trying to depict child exploitation on social media.”

Aiden said nothing. He simply observed the painting closely, his hazelnut eyes carefully going over all the tiny details. Oh boy, I’m sure he isn’t impressed. He is probably judging the imperfections I haven’t covered up yet. Is that a blank spot? Why didn’t I notice that before?!

I wonder what he’s thinking…I thought and tried a little harder to get into his mind.

“Stay out of my head, I don’t like people invading my mind.”

“And stop thinking so low about yourself, I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

I did not just hear that in my head. Did Aiden just communicate with me through his thoughts?!

“It’s called telepathy.”

No way! There’s someone else on this earth with the same ability as me?

“No shit Sherlock.”

“And that is how my dear children, I met your father.”

#_:'- i totally suck at writing cute stuff even though I love reading them t-t. hopefully one day I will get better? a friend told me that I would never be able to write a proper cute short story and she was kind of right. anyways, I am kind of proud of this one, it could get better if I actually put some effort behind it but I guess it's fine for now.

#writerscorner #writersociety #writers and poets #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #tumblr writers #my writing #writers #telepathy #cute #short story #fiction #i suck at this help

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n4rut0runn3r · 4 months

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Graphghan

Start date: January 5, 2023

Completion date: September 17, 2023

Pattern Creation

This is the pattern I created for the blanket. The style of crochet used is called a graphghan. This means that every single-crochet yarn stitch is equivalent to a pixel of an image. This also means row by row, I changed colors frequently. Layering colors to create an image. This pattern was drawn in a pixel art app, so each pixel could be accurately counted and planned for. My goal was an Arizona landscape that in saw in person. See below.

This is a pre-existing pattern online for purchase. I saw the reviews and thought that this would be the perfect place to start. However, this was not the Arizona that I experienced and loved. I knew that there were some changes that I needed to make, which led me to creating my own pattern! I did like the neutral color shades used in this pattern and decided to keep that in my version. See below.

I knew that the shape of the mountains in the pattern had to change. And luckily, I had the perfect reference picture. I loved the ”stegosaurus mountain” that is in East Mesa, a foot hill of the Superstition. It is a beautiful area that I am so thankful I got to visit and spend time there.

Here is how I recreated the mountain shape in my pattern. I took a few artistic liberties with the supporting shapes, because I wanted to be able to accurately convey the shadows and mountain curvature with a limited color palette. The mountain background of the pattern is one of my biggest achievements so far in my time crocheting. I have had this specific hobby for a few years, but I have never ventured far from preexisting patterns or YouTube tutorials. My pattern, and the blanket, are not perfect by any means, but I did learn a lot and I did grow my skills tremendously. I wish I could do it over again to perfect it, but I can only move on to more projects with new skills.

Time For Numbers!

This blanket is 240 stitches wide, and 300 rows in length. The pattern I created originally called for 345 rows, but I ran out of blue yarn, and decided that it was long enough.

20 single crochet yarn stitches uses 3.5 feet of yarn. Using this as an estimate, 4,200 yards of yarn was used in the creation of this blanket. That’s why it's so heavy!

In terms of yarn, I used Red Heart Super Saver brand, which is a level 4 yarn thickness. I prefer to use this brand because it is machine washable, but it does have some downsides. Unfortunately, due to its cheap production, the thickness is not exact. Meaning, I could buy 3 skeins of yarn, all the same color, thickness, even dye lot number, but the thickness of the yarn will vary slightly. This is seen on the blanket where the blue yarn starts.

In this picture, I had just tied off all the loose ends and washed the blanket. But the top was still wider than the bottom due to the thickness of the blue yarn. So, I tried to weigh it down and stretch it out. It did not really help, so the blanket just ended up being more of a trapezoid shape. Thankfully, the blanket is almost as wide as it is long, so when sitting on the couch, it is not noticeable. It's not very fun to try to nicely fold though!

My crochet speed is fairly good. But due to the many times I had to change colors, It took an average of 25 minutes to complete a row of crochet. This adds up to 125 hours spent crocheting. Boy Howdy!

I did a rough calculation of how much time it would take me to complete the blanket before I started, which is why I thought I would have it done in time for my April trip to Arizona, but I forgot to calculate how crazy life is, and the fact that I can't sit and crochet for days at a time. It's an unfortunate truth to life. I was able to get one “in progress” picture. This was on June 14, I was celebrating being done with the many color changes per row.

I was unable to get a final picture of it washed and being used, as it was a gift, and I was able to get it done in time for another trip and gifted it while on that trip. I put a lot of amazing skills in my wheel house, and clocked in a lot of practice time.

#crochet #hand made #homemade gifs #graphghan #made by ding

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inkysworld · 2 years

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Painting with intention

I have been thinking about painting with intention recently. I am making a pledge to myself to improve my paintings and as my weak area is landscapes I am at present devoting the next 3 months to painting landscapes, both real and imagined.

My comfort zone is painting animals, plants, portraits and especially teddies. So this is going to be a challenge.

To kick things off I am posting my latest painting entitled Morning Walk in Hunstanton. This one is a real scene, although the figures were added from memory.

It’s painted in oils on canvas board and is a smallish painting of 10” x 12”.

It depicts the cliffs at Hunstanton, my favourite local beach.

To say that I am inexperienced painting landscapes would be untrue as I have recently been painting quite a few as part of a course I am studying in order to teach painting. So for the last month I have been working at improving my landscape paintings which I know I need to do before I am ready to embark on teaching.

The method I am using in order to teach is a 3 step process using a limited palette and I intend on using acrylics as I feel they will be the easiest medium for beginners to start with. The three steps are:-

Drawing simply.

Block in of big shapes.

Refining the details.

By simplifying the approach the students will hopefully be able to produce a finished painting.

As a bit of background, I have been painting for around 28 years and it’s something I truly enjoy. It has helped me through difficult times and given me a sense of peace. I want to pass on the absolute pleasure of painting.

So many people say “I wish I could paint like you, but I don’t have the talent”. It’s not true! Every human being can paint, it’s the easiest thing in the world. I was one of those people who believed you had to be born an artist, but that’s rubbish. It just takes work and determination not to give up.

When I was at school I really wanted to learn to paint, but I was unfortunate in my tutor who actually taught me nothing. The thing that sticks out in my memory is her giving us paper and paint, telling us to paint from our imagination and she would display all of our work. Imagine my humiliation when she hung everyone’s paintings on the wall, but hid mine beneath someone else’s. From that moment I was sure I had no talent and would never dare attempt another painting. It took almost 20 years before I tried again.

Please don’t be under the impression that you cannot paint, because if you really want to learn then you certainly can and the best thing is the more you paint the better you get!

I hope you will follow along on my journey of self improvement.

Take care and have a lovely day,

Inky x

#painting #art #cliffs #beaches #walking #learning to paint

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tendousthoughts · 3 years

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HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 4

Character(s) included: Kenma & Suna

Requested by: My sibling who doesn't read my work lmao.

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of alcohol [Kenma]

Song of the day: Tired by Beabadoobee

A/N: First off please check out my announcements post. It has a lot of important Information in it and I would really enjoy it if you checked it out! Next this is requested by my wonderful sibling. Hopefully you all enjoy- also how's my new stuff..? Tell me if its ugly lmao.. I recommend having the palette/theme set to Goth Rave for the best look- I might make a few things a darker purple though! This might be the last part to this series unless anyone wants a few more!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Kenma

Things were rough after Kenma landed his dream gig. Being a full time gamer had always been and always would be his dream. But now it was reality. He finally made it in the big league. He was finally there. It was perfect.. but soon enough flaws started to appear outside of his career. Which soon turned into flaws in the relationship. Kenma was known to be smart, calculated, and quiet. Even though all those seemed nice at times it was hard. Like any relationship things didn’t always work out. One of those being the communication. To be frank, there was no communication. At all.

You liked to drink and party. Hang out with friends and just live life to the fullest.. but even if you did like that, you loved just to cuddle. Which luckily you and Kenma shared. As time grew and his career finally branched into what he hoped it would, your time of physical affection shortened. Which sucked.. you loved physical affection. It was your love language. You couldn’t help it, whenever you saw him you just wanted to lay and be with him. But now that you couldn’t, you slowly branched out to others for what you couldn’t have. When that worked.. you just stuck with it. Getting drunk with friends and cuddling until one of your more sober friends called up Kenma and told him to pick you up. Kenma hated it. He really hated it. He hated to see you holding on to someone else, it didn’t matter what they looked like, what they identified as, or who they were. All that mattered was they weren’t him so they had no right to be that close.

Kenma likes to play games and stay home. He liked to be somewhere quiet and such. So every week when he had to go to pick you up, he sorta wondered if he didn’t pick you up what would happen..? Of course he wouldn’t do so though.. you had so many people eyeing you.. you were popular with everyone and extremely kind. So if he did leave you.. it would be as easy as it was for you to get a new cuddle partner as to get a new place to sleep. He trusted you.. well he kind of did. He wasn't good at expressing how he felt especially when it came to you or something you liked.

You got black out drunk the night before and when you walked into the kitchen you felt the heavy atmosphere. “Good morning baby..” you muttered rubbing your eyes. Your lips felt dry and your throat was raspy. Maybe you were screaming or something.. whatever it was fun.

“I don’t want you calling me that at the moment.” He stated. Which caught you off guard. Looking up your eyes were met with his. Clear confusion all over your face. “What? Did you really get that drunk to not remember being all over your friend last night..? Calling them baby and shit. If that’s a name you just throw around please just refer to me as my name..” He muttered.

“Oh you know I didn’t mean too baby.. I love you and you know that.. you're the only one who makes me happy… but right now I'm having a headache so do you mind passing me the coffee..?” you muttered brushing everything to the side which only made him more frustrated with you. you did this every time. You pushed everything that wasn’t in your interest to the side.

“Look at you doing it again. You always do this,” he looked at you annoyed and frustrated. “Pushing everything to the side. Do you not understand how annoying it is to get a call at three in the morning that you're drunk. Not only that but that you're all over someone else. Do you not understand or do you just not care because seriously it's getting hard to think that you are just that, your heads just that blank.”

You were caught off guard. Of course you were, he never responded roughly like that. He never acted so upset with you. To be honest you never really thought about how he had to pick you up and stuff. You never thought about what happened the night before to be frank. You were a party drunk. You liked to sing and dance and cuddle and such. All the things Kenma couldn’t or wouldn’t do with you, you did with anyone else when you were drunk. It wasn’t that you wanted to blame being drunk on acting that way, so you just waited till you did get drunk. It was more, when you were sober you tried to get Kenma to do those things with you. Which most of the time ended badly because you would just be shut down again. “You know I don’t mean to do those things.”

“You don’t mean too?” He looked upset, really upset. You saw him upset often, frustrated with how the game was turning out and such, but this was different. He looked more hurt than anything. “You do it every week. Every single week you go out and drink you go out and party and sing and dance and have the fucking time of your life okay? Then when your all tired and cuddled up with a friend. I get a call to pick you up. When I get there you're either on their lap with your arms around them, on their side and holding them tight, or in between their legs as they cuddle you from the back. Not only that but when I try and help you up you more then half the time push me away, and then say you wanna go home with your ‘baby’! I’m getting sick and tired of it. You wake up the next morning and act as if the whole night you were just thinking of me and how you just wanna cuddle and all this shit. I am so fucking sick of you this. I’m so sick of you drinking. I am so fucking sick of you.” He was shouting. He was pissed and of course he was. But this time he just blew up. He didn’t even wait for a response to anything. “I’m going to go stream don’t fucking bug me.” He walked away walking into his streaming room. Once they slam the door leaving you in utter shock.

It took you a moment to take in everything. You messed up. It was your fault. He was hurt. Your lover was in pain because of your stupid actions. You grabbed your stuff, shoving it into your pocket and walked out. It was hard to think of anything but Kenma right now. Slowly you walked to the park. The leaves fell from the trees, when you looked around you saw couples wearing matching scarves and such. The smell of chai and pumpkin in every corner. Meeting your gaze you saw Kenma’s favorite bakery. Slowly you walked over opening the door and you immediately noticed this pie section. You made your way over biting your lip and you looked up at the sudden voice.

“Y/n.. is that you?” As you eye’s met the other you immediately recognized Bokuto.

“Oh hey.. nice to see you again.” You smiled weakly. Unfortunately your eyes were wet and glossy as soon as you walked into the bakery, and you didn’t know if you could handle pushing down the tears anymore.

“Where’s Kenma..? Are you okay..?” He asked softly, gently rubbing your back as he seemed to be alone at the moment. You didn’t wanna cause any more issues but you couldn’t help it, immediately you started to cry.

“I messed up, I really messed up..” you mutter as he gently leads you to a seat.

“Hey everything will be okay.. just tell me what’s wrong. I know you can work through it okay..? We can do it!” he smiled. He had always been a big brother to you. He knew just what to say to calm you down.

“I got drunk again and this time I just was a mess I guess.. and Kenma seems to be getting tired of me and me doing this. Doing all this dumb shit and messing around. But I just.. I don’t know. I wanna cuddle and hug and go on dates. But Kenma just got his dream job and I don’t wanna fuck it up. I know its so fucking selfish. I shouldn’t do this to him. I know I shouldn’t. I deserve to get yelled at and stuff I mean seriously.. he has to pick me up at three every fucking week because I’m to stupid to tell him how I feel and how I just want to be held and stuff. I just wonder sometimes.. Maybe I am not as perfect as I thought I was for Kenma. He needs someone who can be there for him all the time and I know I just know that I will keep fucking up..” You were shaking. “I mean seriously.. I am not even able to tell him I love him much less tell him about how his job is bugging me. It’s the one thing he wanted to do. The one fucking thing he really wanted to do. I just wasn’t able to support him.. I couldn’t.. I just keep hurting him..” tears were rolling down your face.

“Y/n.. hey it's okay, but he will never know anything if you keep holding it to yourself. Kenma has always been like that. He gets bugged by things but won’t say anything until he is at his limit. He never understood the importance of communication.. and he never ever takes the first steps okay? I understand that you're frustrated but you knew when you got into a relationship with him what type of person he is. You knew he was hard to understand. You told me you did. But I don’t think that you would give up this easily. You and him are the same, there will never be an understanding between you too if you guys don’t talk it out. Okay..? I suggest you get some pie and walk back to talk it out with him. I mean to be honest his stream today seems to be a mess. So it must really be bugging him and it would be better to figure it out sooner don’t you think..?” He smiled softly as you nodded. “Good. I have to go but look if you ever need to talk just message me okay? I’ve got your back!” He smiled, getting up and walking out.

You got up and bought two slices of apple pie and started to walk back. It was going to be tough to do this but you needed to. You knew you needed too.

Kenma couldn’t stay concentrated so the stream only lasted ten minutes before he turned it off and went back out to the living room. Which is when he found out you had left. Sadly his first thought was that you had gone drinking so he called up one of your friends to ask. When he found out you hadn’t he was even more worried. He looked around for a moment before he sat on the couch and held a pillow waiting. Hoping you would come back home. He wanted to fix this. He went too far. He knew he did. He knew he did of course he did. He knew he blew up, he always did and he tried not to but it was so fucking hard.

When you came into the room you immediately saw him lying on the couch cuddled up and crying. “What have I done..” You whispered softly as you made it next to you gently placed the pie down and looked at him. “I am sorry..” he looked up to you a bit and immediately his face changed.

“Oh thank god you're okay..” he whispered softly, “I didn’t me-”

You cut him off, “I messed up. I knew I did and I just want you to listen okay? I love you and I know I rarely say it. For a matter of a fact I can count the amount of times I’ve said it with one hand. I know I need to say it more okay? I know I shouldn’t drink but it is just really hard sometimes.. I just wanna go on dates and hold you and shit and I know it sounds so fucking stupid but sometimes I just get worried that if I do you will get sick of me faster okay..? So I just thought it would be easier to do it with my friends and stuff and get drunk and try to not bug you. You just got your dream job and I just don’t wanna fuck anything up more but I clearly have. I know I’m stupid and inconsiderate and I will think about it more.. just please don’t leave. Please. I will be better I swear.” You tried not to cry but you couldn’t help yourself.

Slowly he pulled you to him and held you tight. “I wasn’t planning to leave you anytime soon.. It is my fault I always don’t pay attention and It ends up hurting you and I know I should try and think about your feelings more. But I get scared to ask about it because I think if I do then you will think something is wrong but clearly that doesn’t work. So I will try to open up more okay.. I love you so much babe.. I love you.” He whispered softly, kissing your forehead.

“I love so so much too.. I love you..” You whispered. It would take time but soon everything would be perfect.. everything would be okay again.

Suna

It was hard to believe that Suna was still playing volleyball. It wasn’t a problem to you at all, to be frank you were glad that he decided to do something he loved. You were glad he wasn’t stuck at a desk all day. It just sucked when he came home all tired and unable to hang out. But maybe it would be the same either way. It just bugged you when he didn’t come home till like twelve and blamed it on practice. You didn’t wanna think that he was lying to you but you never really knew much about volleyball. It could be easily right but it just ticked you off that he came home so late. Claiming that he already had dinner and stuff. But there wasn’t anything you could really do about it. This was his passion. He loved to play volleyball and all you could do was give him your undying love and support.You worked hard, enjoying your job. Though it also got frustrating when your schedules conflicted so you couldn’t hang out but that was just life. There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and that was okay.

Suna got home late again. It was the middle of the night when you heard the shower start. He didn’t even say hello. He knew you were up. He had to know. You always were up when he came in. Mainly because you wanted to make sure he was okay when he got back. You wanted to make sure he got back. You were worried easily but it was going to be okay. Of course it was. You just had to tell yourself everyday and it would be true.. right?

When Suna walked into the room he slowly slipped next to you. “Sorry about the wait angel.. I promise soon I will have time off okay and we can hang out.” He muttered softly as his warm, soft arms wrapped around you. The smell of cherry blossoms radiated off of him. He used your hair wash sometimes, he claimed it made him feel like you were with him all the time and that made him happy. His wet hair touched your back as he held you close.

It was hard to be mad at him when he got like this. He was so soft when he was tired. He always made the same promise. At the beginning you believed him, you waited for it to happen but at this point you just tried to forget that he even said it because it just hurt you more. Of course it did. You were holding on to this stupid hope that he will get more time to hang out. That hope that soon everything would be okay. “It’s okay baby.. get some rest okay..?” You muttered softly. You turned your head slightly, kissing his head as you faced the front again. Closing your eyes you hoped everything would be okay once more.

The morning came quickly. The sun shone through the blinds, then the feeling of coldness hit as you turned over to the empty bed. Heh. What were you thinking? Did you really think that he was going to wait for you..? God sooner or later you really had to realize this relationship was more one sided then anything. That this thing was going to be a forever relationship. But god fuck, this was just as real as a fake relationship. It was only one when it was a relationship when it was convenient. It sucked but none of his teammates even knew about you and him being in a relationship. It sucked to feel like you were being forced to be hidden. It almost felt like he was embarrassed of you. It had gone on long enough. You were so fucking done. This was too hard to hold on.

After packing a bit you got up and grabbed your stuff. Getting up you headed out taking your car to one of your only friend’s houses. It was hard to have a conversation with him let alone try and explain how you felt. So you decided to take a night off from seeing him, and try and clear your head. You didn’t wanna break up, fuck that was the last thing you wanted to do. You decided not to leave a note.. secretly kind of hoping it would make him a bit worried or something. So you knew he actually noticed.. or actually liked you. Suna always had a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ additude and that was one of the big reasons you were drawn to him. He was always so free, he didn’t care what people had to say about him.. Something you wished you could have but it really didn’t matter because he had you back, back then.

After a few hours of hanging out your friend took your phone away from you, being that you had been waiting for a call from Suna. They powered it off and placed it on a shelf gently slipping next to you. They smiled. You and them were alway close. They had been with you for every break up and to be honest you even tried dating, though it didn’t work out it was a great experience and you would still have done it to this day. When night struck instead of waiting for Suna you actually were kind of relieved the fear of him not coming home kind of slipped off your shoulders as you laid down next to your friend. Closing your eyes you hoped for everything to get better. You wished that he would be able to get some free time and such.

On the other hand when Suna came home he did what he always did, take a shower and head to bed. But this time you weren’t there, you weren't waiting for him. He looked around almost instantly running to check if your shoes were there, which they weren’t. Now a bit shaken up he took a deep breath and walked over to check if anything else was missing. Once he did it kind of hit him harder than expected. Running to grab his phone he began to call you. It was too late out and it was pitch black, fear had settled in as he realized what could have happened. All the things that could have happened, might have happened. He immediately put on his shoes, his hair still wet. God even knows he can hear you to dry his hair before he leaves, in hope he won't get sick. He unlocked his car calling you for the third time, unsurprisingly he heard the same voice mail.

“Hey this is y/n! It seems you are trying to reach me. At the moment I might be busy or have missed your call! Please try and call again or leave a message. I promise to get back to you as soon as I can!”

It had been a wet month as the rain hit the floor but Suna didn’t seem to mind. So maybe he was being over dramatic but you never have been away from him during the night from the day you guys started dating. So for you not even to mention that you weren’t going to be home was fucking with him. He did the next best thing, calling your best friend. Lucky for him they picked up. “Hey is y/n there.. they're not picking up and I really wanna make sure they're okay..” he muttered his breath was loud. Almost as if he was having trouble breathing and such.

“Ya, do you wanna pick them up they seem to be having trouble sleeping.. and it seems like you guys need to work through a few things so maybe it would be best if you did..'' They were surprised that he called. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you or anything, it was just that it didn’t always seem like he was that interested in you, as if being convenient to them and such. So for him to call up your friend was quite unexpected.

When Suna arrived he got out and knocked on the door after being met with your friend, “I’m only telling you this once so listen to me. Y/n loves you okay? If you're not interested just let them be okay? There are a bunch of people who would kill to be with them. If you do not have the time for them please just let them be, so they can find someone who can take care of them when they need someone too. Y/n is quiet about their feelings but that doesn’t mean you can only be with them when it is convenient to you, let alone only at night. If you don’t want to step up please just step down and let someone else fill your role for you. They are hurting to much because of your actions and you don’t seem to ever fucking care. Please just let them go if you're done.. This game has been over a long time ago. You won okay. You always will be against y/n..” they moved to the side letting the startled Suna in. “They're over there, if you don’t wanna carry them it is okay just call me over because I don’t want them to be woken up.” Suna shook his head gently. How fucking dare they assume that this was all a game to him. How dare they assume that he didn’t actually love you..? Why did they assume those things..?

Suna picked you up gently, gently you clung to him and his warmth. It was cold in the room and Suna seemed to be the only solution to it. It surprised Suna quite a lot, finding out that you were clinging to him. Being that at night he always hugged you, but you just wanted to give him space so he wouldn’t be bored of you. “Hey angel sorry for making you wait all these nights.. I promise I will be there okay.. please don’t move on I really do love you.. your my everything and I know it is stupid of me to talk to you while your asleep but sometimes I get to nervous to talk to you and I just want everything to be okay with you. Your friend is right though.. There is no excuse for what I am doing to you. I am so sorry.. angel trust me I really love you. I would be so fucking lost without you.” he muttered holding on to you tightly as he grabbed your stuff and carried you out. It was still raining as he tried his best to shelter you from the rain running to the car as he placed you in the front. It took him a moment to get you comfortable or at least that what he hoped was comfortable. He had placed a blanket on you and buckled you up as he moved to the front and started driving. It was a good thirty minute drive, and he knew soon you guys had to go back to go get your car but at this moment all he was worried about was you. “God angel.. I can’t compete with everyone else after you.. why did you choose me.. why are you still with me..?” he muttered. He gently held your hand as he looked out. You were always so cold. Suna on the other hand was like a walking heat source. Maybe because he was so big that he could hold you tight and stuff and it just made it feel warmer or something but it worked better than you could imagine.

It took a bit of time but soon you had arrived, sadly the rain hadn’t eased up. Suna got out first picking you up as he wrapped the blanket around you so you wouldn’t get cold or wet. You shifted around in his arms. “mm..” you muttered your eyes fluttering open with the feeling of his arms again and the feeling of movement. You held on tightly to Suna, “Baby..?” you grumbled softly confused where you were and what you were doing. Why was he here? More importantly, how did he find you.. did he really care? God it felt great to think that he did.

“Ah I’m sorry for waking you angel.. close your eyes I’ve got you now.. that house was too cold. I’ve got you now. We are home so you can be nice and warm again okay..? Don’t worry I’ve got you now so everything will be okay. I am going to take a break from practice for the week okay..? I am going to ease up on the practice so you won’t have to worry. I love you so much. I know I haven’t been a good boyfriend and I know I need to step it up. Will I be okay? Don’t worry I am going to be better for you okay. I am sorry about everything I’ve done to hurt you and I am going to do my best to make you feel better.. and if it doesn’t help I will let go okay. I’m going to finally let you breathe but please just give me just one more chance. I know I love you, and I know I don’t show it but I promise I do. If I didn’t please tell me what was that pain in my chest when I didn’t see you, I know I sound stupid I know I do but I know I really do love you. Hearing what your friend said and I know they're right but it just hit me. I am not ashamed of you.. you know that right..? I just don't want my team to know because last time when word got out I was dating someone the pressure was to muc. on them and the new articles and stuff and I just don’t wanna pressure you. I don’t want us to end because of that. I want everything to be perfect. I know I come home late, I just.. I don’t know. I know it is too much on you and I don't want that I just don’t everything to be over because of an argument that could have been avoided if I just you know.. not came home or something. I know it is no excuse but I am telling the truth please believe me. I can’t live without you.. I love you so much please baby.. fuck. I keep rambling. I am sorry angel. get some rest we will talk about this in the morning..” he muttered softly walking inside and gently placing you in bed as he walked and changed coming back as soon as he could.

You were wide awake.. but you just wanted to wait so you knew he would still be there when you woke up. So you knew he wouldn’t be gone before anything. So you knew he wasn’t lying anymore. “Night baby..” you muttered as his arms wrapped around you.

“Good night angel.. I love you so much..” He muttered, closing his eyes.

When the morning came you were surprised when you felt his body tight around you. “Morning my angel..” he muttered. “Did you get some good rest..?”

“Good morning.. mhm.. thank you for staying.. you don’t understand how worried I was that you were going to leave before I could say anything.. But thank you. I love you so much okay.. and I don’t what my friend said but please ignore him.. I only love you.. I will only ever love you. Please try and stay home more. It is getting hard to handle and I know it is selfish but I just want you to stay longer sometimes. I know you want the best for me but please.. it makes me feel like you actually don’t love me and I know it is wrong but I get scared and I don’t want to be.. please believe me when I say that I can handle it.. I just wanna be with you more. I just want to be what you want. I love you so much..” You were trying not to cry but you were.

“Angel… I love you so much. I will tell the whole world.. I want to. Will I be okay? I will stay with you till you wake up and eat Breakfast with you. I will come home sooner so you're not scared anymore.. I’ve got you and everything I’ve ever wanted so please don’t cry.. I love you so fucking much angel..” he whispered kissing you. This felt good.. refreshing, you felt okay for the first time in a while. You felt happy. You were going to be alright now, he was going to keep you safe and you would do the same thing. You loved each other and that's all that would ever matter because you two were made for each other.

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jaysunderwear · 3 years

Text

i’m a big fan of miles “i am a professional, i do things the most efficient way, i don’t care for silly games” edgeworth who is also not so secretly just as ridiculous as those he bullies

most obvious is the blatant evidence in his office that he is very into this long running children’s tv show that he only got into cause his silly friends wanted to match with him when they were like 9 and it was that important to him

he has definitely fantasized about so many stupid things while arguing in court or attempting to do important work holed up in his office. one does not achieve such a coordinated design palette without being a little eccentric

he was also just a pretentious child that grew into a pretentious adult with some hefty trauma sprinkled in so i’m not saying it’s a defence mechanism (the strict aesthetic) but it’s a defence mechanism

he is incredibly smart which also means he has quite the imagination. the point of this line of thought is; he is absolutely a secret romantic sap. unnecessary feelings indeed. he has mentally planned his wedding to phoenix at least four times before they even discuss their feelings. no he never had any other romantic interests, he was busy and they would get in the way

and maybe he has also been a little too hung up on the kid that used to look at him with those stars in his eyes and held him so tightly he could still feel it in the years he was gone. maybe he too always wished they would meet again.

he is annoyed with wright’s sudden overwhelming presence because now that he is no longer just Remembering that blinding light he has no other option than to look at it. and god is it bright

if he thought for any minute he could quietly stamp out his lingering feelings, having phoenix defend him and uncover the truth of the trauma that haunted him for 15 years destroyed any hope of that. even running away for an introspection vacation didn’t change much, it only solidified its permanence.

he still keeps quiet about his feelings for as long as he can because he doesn’t know how they could possibly work together. everything logical says they would be a disaster. this is nothing but a childish fantasy enhanced by lack of experience.

and then, phoenix loses everything and has his hands full with that rubble in the fallout and miles can’t actually do anything. he was right, they’ll never work.

but he needs him. more than that, he wants him. and one doesn’t have to look far to see that miles knows what he likes and he isn’t afraid to surround himself with it. so there’s compromise. and there’s the offer to work again, even if just on the down low, on an impossible case with an approaching time limit. on changing the legal world as they know it.

and then the debris is cleared (along with wright’s name) and miles finally starts to settle and so many of the issues he was so worried about seem to clear themselves away. and there’s that light again. that soft, constant, blinding light. and it’s still there. and they’re still standing across from each other. and

it’s very in phoenix’s nature to throw all caution to the wind and barge in on a wing and a prayer without any backup plan or thought of consequence, but when he tries to trick miles into a cautious kiss after all those years of dancing around each other he is having none of it. miles has thought about this moment over 200 times in the last ten years, he’ll be damned if he lets wright ruin it by trying to be gentle.

what i’m trying to say. is miles is a messy kisser with very very little experience (cause he did all his exploring through fantasy and then accidentally threw all his eggs in one basket before he realized that was it for him and he has to live with it) he has no idea what he is doing except that he wants to touch mouths. maybe tongues (even though that’s always seemed like a strange concept, but maybe it would be ok if it was phoenix) and his hands grab a little too tightly and he’s forgotten the second half of how this part is supposed to go when wright pulls him back and forces him to breathe and that light is right in his face in his eyes under his hands and

that’s five times now that he’s thought about marrying phoenix wright. he should probably get out of his head and start actually working on that. the proper way, of course. like any professional adult with an important title.

he is too old for childish fantasies anyway. reality is far more compelling.

#miles edgeworth #narumitsu #ace attorney #wrightworth #long time no random character meta cause i have nobody else to talk to #i just think he’s <3 neat #am i projecting? only a little #i just finished dual destinies and was vey overwhelmed by happy healthy edgeworth i had to write my gay reflection on it #the implications here are that they get together after the events of aa4 obviously #i love them sm

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jbreenr · 2 years

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Perfect Gift

Pairing: CEO!Scott Huffman × Reader

Summary: What do you give to someone who has everything?

Word count: 1,237

Warning: None that I know but I would like to add some in a second part. 🤔

A/N: I decided I'll be posting some drabbles (mhm) throughout the week till Saturday. Hope you like 'em at least a little. Happy holidays, everyone! As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*.

ᴺᵒᵗ ᵐʸ ᵍⁱᶠ ¯ ᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵒʳ

Why? Why, out of all the people you worked with, did you have to buy a gift for the boss?

It's not that you didn't like him. On the contrary, you liked him more than you were willing to admit.

And still, that was not the problem.

When you agreed to be a part of the gift exchange that was organized at the office, you expected to be buying a tie, a Radiohead album, a shadow palette at Sephora… Never would you imagine you'd pick Scott Huffman's name to be his secret Santa.

So, here you were, scrolling through the fifth, maybe sixth website, looking for something good enough to give to your boss. There was a hard fifty dollars limit, and you had no idea how you'd make it work. His suits were made of the finest materials, the little accessories he wore were worth more than all your jewels together, and luxuries were not a problem for him.

Snapping the screen of your laptop shut, you let out a long groan of frustration. What were you going to get him if he already had everything and more?

Good news was, you still had two days to decide on something.

There was always a reunion at the office on Christmas eve. A little party for coworkers to hang and have a pleasant time before heading home to their families and abundant dinners.

It was also tradition to exchange presents as a way to get along with more people and break the routine at least for a night.

“Alright, people!” Sarah, the self-assigned coordinator of the dynamic called, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. “I hope you all have your gifts ready because the game starts… now.”

And as soon as she said that, everyone was in motion, looking for the person they had to give their present to.

You looked for Mr. Huffman, hands behind your back to hide the bag, even though it wasn't necessary.

“Y/N.” You were a couple of steps away from his office when you heard him, freezing you. Panic running through your veins, realizing now how disappointing your gift could be for a man like Scott Huffman. “I was looking for you.” With a head movement, he asked you to follow him inside the office. From the desk, he took a small white bag with a cute ribbon and handed it to you. “Merry Christmas.”

You took the bag, peeking inside to get a look at whatever it was he got you. “Thank you, Mr. Huffman.”

Smiling at him, you were about to give him his gift, ready to run in the opposite direction, before he spoke, “Aren't you going to open it?” He asked curiously, and to those beautiful blue eyes, you could deny nothing.

“Y-yeah, sure.” Holding your own gift under your arm, you took the red little box out of the bag. Opening it, your eyes went from the content to Scott repeatedly. Your lips were parted, moving and trying to say something coherent, but your brain wasn't working anymore.

“What do you think?” His voice brought you back to reality, finally making you able to speak again.

“It, it's beautiful.” And you were as honest as you were shocked. Inside the box, neatly placed was a silver bracelet with a heart shaped pendant, it sparkled with the reflection of the white lights and if you weren't wrong, it was a real diamond. It was… “This is more than fifty dollars, Mr. Huffman. I can't accept it.”

You tried to return the box to him, but he wasn't accepting it.

“Of course you can!” Scott took the bracelet out of the box to show it to you. “The lady that helped me at the store said that it was the perfect gift for a beautiful woman.” He took advantage of your extended arm to clip the bracelet around your wrist. “But if you don't like it, I can change it for something else.”

As impressed as you were about the gift itself, you overlooked his compliment, certain that he would indeed change it if you asked. As well as you were certain he'd choose something more extravagant and, for instance, more expensive.

“No, no. I love it. It's just…” You feel dumb, knowing what waited in the bag under your arm to be opened.

If you didn't know it was impossible, you could have sworn he heard the sound of gears working inside your brain. Jewelry! There was a jewelry store down the street. It was late but with a little luck they'd still be open and, well, you hoped a watch would do.

“I'm your Secret Santa but I forgot your gift in the car. If you wait just a minute, I'll…” You tried to step back, but stumbled upon a chair, which almost made you fall, if it wasn't because of Scott, who reacted as fast as you closed your eyes, waiting for the impact.

“That's strange.” Only when he was sure you were stabilized was he let go. “I heard you telling Lynn that you had it here, with you.” He pointed to the bag you kept carrying, making it clear that by no chance would you leave the building to get a last minute change.

It was clear why you always lost in hide and seek.

Sighing on defeat, you gave him the bag, explaining why you came up with the idea of it and offering to change it for that watch you had in mind. Scott stared at it for a solid minute, watching the patterns, vibrant colors, and feeling its texture.

A soft smile adorned his face when he said, “I've always wanted one of these.” Scott left the piece of cloth in his chair to take off his jacket.

“Really?” Confusion all over the question.

“Yes,” He put on the ugly sweater with trees and snowmen and reindeer, finding it a bit difficult for it to fit his broad shoulders. "but I never really had a chance or an excuse to wear one.”

Outside, the sky was deep dark, making the large window a perfect mirror.

“It looks good on you.” Having nothing else to say, you decided for honesty. You never thought you'd like an ugly sweater that much.

“You think so?” He has that analytic glint you saw him use so often. “Don't I look…” He thought of the best word to describe it, trying not to offend your present. “unprofessional?”

“Well, I think you need some unprofessionalism in your life.” The words left your lips before you could process them. “I--.”

He turned from the window and made his way, slowly, to you. Only when he was closer than he'd ever been was when you realized you hadn't moved an inch.

The back of his hand brushed delicately your blushing cheek. The warmth in his eyes could melt you even though the air conditioning was on.

“I believe that, too.” His eyes descended to your lips, his face growing closer to yours…

“Everyone get together!” At the sudden sound, you opened your eyes. “It's time to see who won the raffle!”

“We should go.” He said against your lips, minty breath hitting your face. “We can pick this up again when the party's over.”

And as he left to join the rest, you cursed Sarah for not hanging a mistletoe right in his office.

#scott huffman x female reader #scott huffman fanfiction #scott huffman imagine #scott huffman x reader #scott huffman #scott huffman drabble #sebastian stan #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan characters #breen writes #christmas drabble #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #scott huffman au #ceo!scott huffman #ceo au #ceo!au

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english8muffin · 3 years

Text

Vogue morning routine

Y/N Y/N/L’s guide to effortless natural makeup

Summary: you are asked to do the Vogue Beauty Secrets video and your two boys decide to join the party

Word count: around 2000

Warning: none, just pure floof!

I apologize in advance if there are any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language (+ this is my very first fic)

HEADLINE Henry Cavill’s new girlfriend, designer Y/N Y/L/N reveals her everyday morning routine in recent Vogue video: Y/N Y/L/N shows off her secrets to the perfect fusion of European and Asian beauty.

You stood in the spacious bathroom of the hotel room, only wearing a big, fluffy, white robe, that was actually Henry’s. But since the man was in the gym, you took the opportunity to lend it and bathe yourself in his musky smell, that calmed your nerves. Last night you started panicking, thinking you would probably look stupid for the entire world to see, luckily Henry and Kal tried to calm you down with cuddles and kisses.

This was the first ‘interview’ you would do, being such a young, successful entrepreneur really caught the attention of the media. When you first started your small online shop, you never would have thought you would end up here. Five years later, with a steady income, the job you always wished for and the man you had a crush on since the first time you laid eyes on him. Being a creative, it really made your heart soar with happiness, seeing all your products, your babies, in new homes where they would make others happy.

You were really proud of yourself. Henry was as well, and he made sure you and everybody around you knew. You were apprehensive at first, being with such a well known actor, who was also much older than you, it made you nervous of what people would say, what the media would say. You didn’t want to tarnish Henry’s image. You knew there were people with a much bigger age gap, but still, people were ruthless. So you both decided to take it slow, being careful with going out in public and social media posts.

You stand in front of the large mirror, which had a camera attached to it and open up your makeup bag. Right before you went into the bathroom, you made yourself a nice cup of tea, trying to stay calm. “Hi! I’m Y/N and today I am going to show you my everyday makeup routine,” you say with a smile, “I am not a dermatologist so please don’t take what I say too seriously.”

You grab a small white washcloth and hold it up, so it was in the frame, “First, I am going to wash my face and put on a few drops of serum,” You dampen the cloth and wipe it over your face and neck. You put a few drops in the palm of your hand and pat them into your skin. “Now I going to use my jade roller to massage the serum into my skin. It’s quite funny seeing so many people use these nowadays. In ancient China they were mostly used by the elite to keep there skin ageless. They would call jade the Stone of Heaven. It’s really helpful for the people who wake up with a puffy face like me,” you chuckle.

Somethimes you’d wake up with puffy cheeks, which led to Henry calling you his chubby bunny in the morning.

“Just a quick tip, and this is for everybody, make sure you always use SPF. I personally use SPF 30 and this one is shine control, since I tend to get an oily skin, but you can also use a regular one or a foundation with SPF in it. Believe me when I say your skin will be thankful.”

You grab the small tube of sun cream and show the amount you’ll use. You even convinced Henry to wear SPF everyday. At first he said he didn’t think it would make such a big difference, but when he realised you were going to be the one to put it on him, he was convinced about its benefits and adamant to wear it everyday. After working the thick cream into your skin, you put on some lipbalm and rummage through the pouch in front of you. When you find the product you’re looking for, you hold it up. “Now, I am going to put on a bit of concealer, this one is from Maybelline. After this, I will use a lighter shade under my eyes and on my acne scars that I have here,” you point and circle around the small cluster of scars on the sides of your cheeks.

Before blending out the concealer, you smile at the lens and put in two bright yellow hairclips, to keep your dark locks from falling into your face. “I probably should have done this at the start,” you laugh. The nerves creeping up a little. It wasn’t that you where a shy person, but knowing thousands of people will watch this, did something to you. You were always a very easygoing person, who could talk with pretty much everybody. But knowing people were going to watch you do something so intimate in a way, and would probably comment on it, scared you a little. While you would be 100% yourself, doing something as mundane as getting ready. If they didn’t like you now, then they probably won’t like you later. And that was what made you so afraid.

The bathrobe falls a bit down your shoulder, but you ignore it, since your hair fell down your shoulders in big waves. “Okay, brows. I used to block them in really dark when I was younger, but now I try to keep a light hand. I’ll use this Got 2B Glued as a brow gel afterwards. The tails of my eyebrows tend to move if I don’t use a strong enough gel. If you’re Asian you will understand the struggle.”

You quickly finish your brows, put some bronzer on your face and eyelids and take out your liquid eyeliner. “Am I the only one that acts like I’m a beauty guru whenever I do my makeup? Like, I’m just acting as if I’m used to this, right now, but to be honest, I was really nervous to do this video for Vogue,” you admit, “they will probably regret asking me,” you chuckle. You finish your eyemakeup with curling your long lashes, thanks to your mother’s genes, and add a coat of mascara.

You take in a deep breath, excited to show everyone the product you had been waiting for. “The next thing I am really proud to show you guys, because I designed the packaging. This is the new limited edition blush and highlighter palette from Dior, which they created for Lunar New Year!” You beam with pride, holding up the elegant looking palette. It had a darker toned glossy finish and the borders were the traditional Chinese looking frames, which were 3D and were surrounded by a wild variety of peonies. In the middle of the lid was your Chinese calligraphy in big golden brush stokes that said ‘year of the Ox’, the clasp was designed so it resembled an antique Chinese coin and on the side hung a jade charm.

“You can pre-order this palette now, I think they will put a link-thingy in de description. I wish you all a happy and blessed Lunar New Year, 祝农历年新年快乐牛年大吉!”

Just as you’re about to add some blush to your cheeks, the bathroom door creaks open and a curly-headed, sweaty Henry pops his head in. Fresh from the gym, and were you thankful for his new intense workout, because he was truely a sight to behold. A cheeky smile graces his handsome face when he spots you in front of the mirror, only wearing his robe, which made his grin widen.

“what are you doing in here? Are you hiding from me? Playing hide and seek is it?” he teases and rakes his large hand through the tousled curls, but just as he’s done speaking, he sees the camera behind you, and blushes. “Oh, I didn’t know you were filming, I’m sorry darling,” he smiles and gives a small wave in the direction of the camera. You led out a giggle, cheeks turning red already, if he’d keep this up, you wouldn’t need to add blush. You couldn’t focus anymore, he looked so attractive, only wearing his black gym shorts and a tight dark blue tank top. Damn that camera, otherwise you would have jumped him. Henry, thought the exact same thing. Seeing you, only wearing his robe and your hair still a bit wild from this morning’s cardio, made him hold back a moan. Those two cute, yellow clips in your hair could have fooled him, because you were anything but innocent.

Before he’s about to close the door again, he blows you a kiss. But his actions are stopped when a big bear makes his appearance. Bolting past his dad’s legs, Kal comes into the bathroom. Henry tries to catch him but misses. The black and white akita excitedly sniffs his head around the sink, trying to see what you were up to with all the stuff lying on the marble counter.

“Kal!” Henry whisper-yelled, trying to stay hidden behind the door. But you could still see his massive body crouched down behind the wood. It was rather funny, seeing the large man so panicked about getting his dog to listen. It kind of reminded you of that one video from BBC were a professor was being interviewed and his baby and nanny showed up in the background. While Henry tried to get Kal’s attention, the dog just sat next to your legs, and smiled when you pet him behind his ear. He was your good boy.

You both knew there was no other option but to keep Kal here, once he saw you do your makeup, he wanted to watch and get his ‘makeup’ done as well.

Henry also saw the look in Kal’s eyes and let out a sigh. Might as well stay with his two loves. He stood up from his position and walked to you, wrapping his sweaty but oh so save body around your figure, and placed a prolonged kiss on the exposed skin just by your shoulder. So far for taking it slow… He pressed himself thighter against your back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and intertwined your hands, slowly rocking you two back en forth. “You look beautiful, my love,” he whispered, so only you could hear it, at least you hoped the camera wouldn’t pick that up. You let out a little giggle, like the inner schoolgirl you were whenever he was around you.

“Kal loves when Y/N does his makeup as well, don’t you boy,” Henry explains with a smile and looks down at the bear by your bare feet. Kal gives a small ruff and sweeps his tail eagerly. “Did you show them what you made,” he asked you with a wide smile, and looked straight in to the camera, “she worked really hard on that design, so I hope you all like it,” he declared proudly.

You ended up doing your makeup routine with your two boys in the background. Henry left for a few minutes to shower in the second bathroom your hotelroom had, and came back clad in a pair of light jogging trousers and a sweater. Even though you were inside, it was still a bit too chilly to walk around in short sleeves, being mid-winter and all. He just sat on the small wooden bench by the door, still in frame for everybody to enjoy and behold. His hair now damp. He was reading in a book and patiently waiting for you to get ready, occasionally looking up and laughing when you would wet your hands or Kal’s special makeup brush in the sink and pretend to do his makeup. The dog would bark excitedly and give you kisses. “Wow Kal, you look so pretty,” Henry told the big floof with the chuckle.

“Okay, this was my -somewhat- everyday makeup routine! Thank you guys for watching this chaotic mess, hope you laughed a bit, bye-bye, 再见!” How do those vlogger end their videos? Smash like and subscribe?

Behind you Henry looked up from the pages of his fantasy book and arched his brow, “Hey! No shout-out for your special guests? See you all next time!”

WOOHOO!! This is my very first fanfic, I really hope you enjoyed it. Liking, reposting and commenting would mean a lot to me! If you do repost this, please do not edit or copy my work. I worked really hard on this.

Much love, Nahmi xxx

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Golden Thread

Prompt: since Janus is Deceit, what if it takes a physical toll on him when he only tells the truth and doesn't manipulate anyone for a period of time? could you please write a oneshot where Janus is in a position where he really needs to to tell the truth, but he can tell he's getting close to his truth limit? - anon

Hey! I don't know if you're still taking requests for prompts (and I apologize if you aren't), but could you do Janus-centric fluffy hurt/comfort? And maybe a polyship? (If you want to, of course). - anon

Thanks for the prompts, babes! This was supposed to go up yesterday and I’m so sorry I forgot

Read on Ao3

Warnings: sympathetic remus & janus, other than that, it’s not that bad

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 5874

There is a thread that winds through Janus’s tongue.

Thin, golden, finely spun with lies. It tastes sweet against the back of his teeth, the back of his throat. As he talks, it colors his words with a soft gleam, spinning and spinning into the air in front of him. It coils neatly around his throat as its spool and winks.

Most of the time its taste is enough to curl the corners of his mouth upwards into a smirk, watching it wind and weave its way around the others. Sometimes he thinks he can see other threads, clasping delicately around wrists, arms, knees, necks. Sometimes he can’t resist letting his threat tug them this way and that. Come on, what good is temptation if you never give in to it? He’s grown fond of the sweetness it leaves on his tongue, in his words. Saccharine as they may be, the haze they leave behind is more than enough to make up for it.

Sometimes the sweetness is too much. He swears he can feel cavities forming in the back of his mouth. His teeth start to ache. And sometimes…sometimes he doesn’t care. It’s too much fun to keep tugging this way and that at the others, too entertaining to let the thread unspool and unspool from his throat, filling the air with its golden light. His smile sharpens and the tangle grows, because what’s the fun of it without a little risk of hurt?

Other times he knows to back off. He adores the others, but no matter how fun they are to play with, he knows not to push too hard. At those times, he lets the sweetness spill off of his tongue, gently winds the thread back around his own throat. It always protests, the lack of sweetness making his tongue ache, the grip on his throat just a little too tight. But the looks on their faces…the begrudging gratitude, the sincere remark, or--god forbid—the poorly disguised hope…well.

Sometimes he wonders whether or not it’d be worth it to keep the thread fully wound.

Not that he ever would, it’s just a thought experiment.

It’s not like he wonders what it would feel like to have Patton be able to listen to him easily, not make it a fight to get his point across. He doesn’t want to have an engaging conversation with Logan about philosophy, ethics, science, anything just to hear the brilliant man talk. He refuses to entertain the idea of being a proper source of comfort for Virgil. He wouldn’t enjoy snarking with Remus just for fun and not because he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

And he…

Well.

The idea of being able to have an honest conversation with Roman makes him fill to the brim, top to toes, with hatred.

He doesn’t have much of a choice.

He can speak a few times with the thread coiled up, just enough when it really counts. He knows the others, he can’t just play with them all the time, he’ll get bored. And they’re not really cut out for it. And as much as he loves to see them squirm out of their comfort zones, it’s not good for Thomas. That’s his real priority.

Janus pushes open the door to his room and sighs, taking his hat off and hanging it carefully up on its stand. He summons his cane and makes it the rest of the way to the desk, plopping himself into the chair and scrubbing his hand through his hair.

“They’re so slow,” he mutters as his fingers go to the clasp around his throat, “how do they ever get anything done?”

Well…they don’t. Not really.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves being the one to tug and twist them into the right answer, but he doesn’t want to be there all the time. They do know what they’re doing, they’re all good at their jobs, so…trying to manage all of that is exhausting.

The clasp at his throat falls away and he lifts his hand, craning his neck above his collar. There.

He knows the thread isn’t real; nothing here is real. Nothing of him can ever be real. But he can still feel it sometimes. Like today.

They’d been…talking. It wasn’t an overdue conversation, not in the slightest, and he’s had to be honest with them. Doesn’t mean he has to be honest with himself.

And isn’t that just his saving grace?

Janus winces as he feels the thread wind tighter and tighter around his tongue, pulling his gloves off to touch his throat, just to confirm that it’s not real. His fingers meet his scales and he sighs, missing the sweetness. It won’t be for long. This will blow over and tomorrow they’ll be back to everyone’s favorite regularly scheduled programming. He’ll make Patton blink in that adorably-confused way, Logan will be pinching the bridge of his nose trying to make everyone shut up and pay attention to Janus’s lies, Virgil will be hissing at him like a demented cat, Remus will be having the time of his life, and Roman won’t want anything to do with him.

Janus breathes a sigh of relief as sweetness starts to coat his tongue again.

See? It’s already working.

It doesn’t keep working, but you know.

The effort was there.

They’re talking again.

The living room feels dry. Has it always been this dry? Disguising it as a roll of his eyes, Janus tilts his head toward the ceiling. Huh. He’s never noticed that light there before. Has it always been there? Probably.

“Janus,” Patton calls, “can you—um—“

Rolling his eyes again, he looks back down, crossing one leg over the other. He hides the lack of sweetness by pursing his lips.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear what I asked?”

“Of course I did,” he drawls, idly flicking the tips of his gloves together.

“…so what do you think?”

Honestly.

“He didn’t hear you,” Logan says quietly, and thank god the other brain cell has joined the chat.

Patton frowns. “Then why—never mind.”

Oh, Patton.

“I asked if you knew how to help,” Patton says, his hands clutched in his lap, “with the barrier breaking down. It’s been kind of rough from our side so…”

Right.

There hadn’t been a barrier up until a few years ago. Something had formed in the Mindscape, an invisible wall. It wasn’t real, of course, but it made walking through the hallways unnecessarily difficult. One of them would try to walk from one side to the other and be suddenly seized with a compulsion to do anything but. Or they’d be accompanying another Side back to the room only to freeze in the middle of the corridor and have to mutter out apologies. It’s exhausting. Luckily they’d still been able to sink in and out to get from place to place, but it’s not like the barrier actually does anything.

Janus sighs and uncrosses his legs. The thread leaps to the tip of his tongue, eager, poised.

“I don’t know,” he says instead, feeling the sweetness recede in disappointment, “I don’t know enough about how it formed in the first place.”

“It happened around the time of the series premiering,” Logan says thoughtfully, “perhaps it could be linked with the presentation of the Mindscape in the fanbase?”

Virgil snorts. “Like any of that is accurate.”

“You don’t know that, Virgil.”

“Um, excuse me, which of us spends the most time on Tumblr?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Where do you think most of the fanbase hangs out? ‘Cause it sure as hell ain’t Facebook.”

“That’s a shame,” Patton sighs, “I miss it.”

“You miss Facebook?”

“You know it does still exist, right?”

“Did Thomas ever even have Facebook?”

“The color palettes were nice!”

“You mean they were blue.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“…the point being I know a lot about what the fans do with the content we give them and most of that stuff is entirely made-up.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “As opposed to the made-up that the series is.”

“Shut up, L.”

“I’d rather not, actually.”

Virgil swats Logan’s shoulder half-heartedly.

Janus is smiling. Why is he smiling? He hasn’t lied enough for the sweetness to make him smile and it’s not like Remus has appeared with feet coming out of his head again. In fact, Remus is just…sitting next to Roman. Granted, he’s got his morning star in his lap dripping with god knows what, but there are no crazy shenanigans happening.

He watches Logan reach out and tangle his fingers with Virgil’s as Patton starts talking again. He watches Virgil nudge Remus’s tape back over to him when he drops it halfway through rewrapping the grip on his morning star. He watches Roman cover a flinch that he’d never have noticed if he wasn’t paying attention and sees Remus take hold of Roman’s costume and grip it tight in his fist.

The thread twitches angrily on his tongue as he tries to make sense of what’s happening.

“Has anything happened,” Roman asks as Patton pauses, “on your side?”

Virgil shrugs. “I haven’t noticed anything. But I normally sink straight to my room, so…”

“Remus?”

“You do realize that most of the thoughts that come into my head are the type that you guys would ignore anyway, right?”

Roman rolls his eyes too, but it’s fond. Affectionate. Janus is not.

“…Janus? What about you?”

The thread begins to sew neat little words into his tongue, all prepared for him to say. Yes, he’s noticed something, he’s noticed that the others are so much less fun than they used to be. No, he hasn’t noticed anything, it’s not like he’s the observant one.

Yes, he’s noticed that the barrier is fading and he hates it.

No, he hasn’t noticed anything because he spends as little time with the others as possible.

“I don’t know.”

Patton nods. “That’s okay, just…maybe try keeping an eye out? See if anything changes?”

“I will.”

The thread takes longer to undo that night.

Janus slumps onto his elbows and groans.

When did he become addicted to the sweetness? When did it get so hard for him to realize when he’s the one telling the lies and when the thread is telling the lies? When did he stop caring about the words coming out of his mouth?

The truth is, of course, that he didn’t.

He started caring more about the others.

The thread tightens in warning but Janus pushes it aside. He frowns, staring hard at the grooves in the desk. He started to care about them, not just as parts of Thomas’s personality that would help him do things, but as their own Sides. As them.

He cares about how Logan’s eyes light up just a little when he starts talking about something. He cares about how warm Patton speaks when they’re all there. He cares about how bouncy Remus gets when they talk to him. He cares about when Virgil’s eyeshadow turns all purple and sparkly. He cares about how hard it’s become to genuinely make Roman smile.

The thread groans.

Janus curses.

He can’t.

“The others aren’t important,” he hisses at the mirror, “Thomas is the only important one.”

The thread pauses.

“I don’t care what they want,” he continues, feeling it slowly start to unwind, “it only matters that Thomas is safe. That Thomas knows what’s going on.”

It starts to run back out along his tongue.

“Their thoughts and feelings aren’t important.” His hands ball into fists. “I don’t care about them.”

His tongue starts to taste sweet again.

“I don’t care about them,” he repeats in a whisper, “they aren’t important to me.”

The salt of the tears goes perfectly with the sweetness on his tongue.

————————————————

Something is wrong.

Something is horribly, desperately wrong and the others are panicking.

The barrier is gone. That’s not the bad thing. The bad thing is that along with it, everything in the Mindscape is rushing out of control.

The walls won’t hold. The doors lock and unlock more often than they stay in place. Floors disappear out of nowhere and open up into yawning black pits. The doors to the Imagination buckle and groan under the onslaught of rushing beasts from the other side. Something is fading.

They can’t sink out anymore. They need to know where everything is in order to do that. The place is a labyrinth. Only one entrance, one exit. There’s no way that they’ll know the right path unless they run it themselves.

Janus knows something is broken the instant his eyes open. He can feel it. Cracks wind their way through the walls, through the floor, the ceiling shakes. He’s out of his room in an instant, running through the halls, somewhere, anywhere, are they alright? Where are they? Have they faded?

“Virgil!”

“Janus?” Virgil flies into him at breakneck speed, clutching his cape in both hands. “Are you—what’s happening? Where is everyone? Did something go wrong? What’s happening to Thomas?”

The thread perks its end up eagerly but Janus swallows it down.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” he says quickly, pulling Virgil closer, “and you’re the first one I’ve seen.”

“I can’t find anyone,” Virgil pants, “I can’t—there’s no one—we’re going to fade.”

“We won’t, I promise. We just have to find the others.”

“Hello?” Another voice calls out from around the corner. “Hello, where the fuck is everyone? Who decided to break shit without me?”

“Remus!”

“That’s me, where the fuck—“ Remus barrels around the corner, almost knocking them over— “Virgil! Snake Face!”

“Remus—“ Virgil wraps Remus in his arms, clutching him tightly. “Where were you? What’s going on?”

“I was draining the viscera from a partially dissected sperm whale—“ of course he was— “but then everything started shaking.”

“We can’t find the others.”

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”

They don’t even look back; Remus grabs Janus’s sleeve and Virgil still hasn’t let go of his cape, dragging him behind as they race through the halls. They can see where the barrier used to be, though with how much the place has shifted, it’s impossible to tell. Janus grits his teeth as they prepare themselves to smash through.

Nothing happens.

They just keep barreling down the corridor.

“Patton! Logan! Roman!”

“Where the fuck are you guys?”

“Can you hear us?”

“Re? Re, is that you?”

“Ro!”

Remus reroutes them effortlessly, barreling through chunks of disappearing floor and leaping over cracks forming in the tiles. Virgil hangs onto Janus as they go. Janus can’t let go of either of them.

“In here!”

A blade flashes through a crumbling chunk of wall and a hand reaches out. Remus grabs it and vaults through the opening.

“Oh my goodness, Virgil!”

“Pat—“

Another hand helps to haul him through the crack. The hand he has in his cape pulls uncomfortably at Janus’s neck.

“Where’s Janus? Did you guys see him?”

“Yeah, he’s right here, Ja—“

“Snake Face, get your butt in here.”

“Don’t just stand there, help you idiots!”

A sickening crack right above him makes him jerk his head up. His eyes widen as a massive chunk of ceiling starts to fall. Hands wrap around his arms, his clothes, even his waist and pull.

“Janus?” He blinks through the dust to see Logan staring at him, concern written plainly all over his face. “Are you alright?”

No, the thread sews, I am now trapped with the five people I abhor most in this world. I am the furthest from alright I could possibly be.

“Are you all alright,” he asks instead, lifting his hand to fix Logan’s collar, “I’m not hurt.”

“We’re fine,” Roman says, helping him to his feet, “we managed to get in here before the place really started coming down.”

“What’s going on?”

Patton’s shoulders slump at Virgil’s question. “We were hoping you would know.”

Janus bites back a curse, turning to look at the opening. It’s blocked now, completely choked in dust. He glances around.

“Where are we?”

“Safe room,” Roman says, tapping the wall, “something Remy helped us come up with.”

“Remy?”

“He’s a bitch but he knows what he’s doing.”

“Fair enough.” Janus grits his teeth. “So what do we know?”

“Who was awake when it happened,” Logan asks, “Roman and I were not.”

“I was also not awake,” Virgil mutters, “and I would really appreciate this not being how I wake up ever again.”

“I agree.” Janus glances at Patton and Remus. “I was asleep too. Remus, you said you were awake?”

“I was in the middle of an experiment!”

Logan perks up. “An experiment?”

“As much as I love watching you two be nerds together,” Roman breaks in, “can we do that later?”

“Of course.”

“Spoilsport,” Remus says fondly, “but it wasn’t me. I’ve done this experiment before, nothing I do could do…this.”

All eyes turn to Patton.

“…Padre?”

Patton shakes his head. “I…I don’t know. I had just gotten up to get a glass of water when it shattered in my hand.”

“It did what?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Let me see.”

“No, no, guys I’m fine,” Patton says quickly, holding up his hands, “but then the whole house started to shake. I don’t—I don’t know what’s going on.”

Janus’s heart sinks. He’s telling the truth.

They’re stuck.

“Oh, god,” Virgil mutters, his hands flying to his head, “oh god, oh my god, no one knows what’s going on.”

“V,” Logan murmurs, crouching down and reaching to take his hands, “Virgil, look at me.”

“We’re going to mess everything up—it’s going to be so bad—what’s happing to Thomas?”

“Virgil, look at me, come now, it’s going to be alright—“

“How can you promise that?” Virgil’s voice starts to rise. “Have you seen what’s happening?”

“Easy, shadow-ling,” Roman murmurs too, his hand carding through Virgil’s hair, “just listen to Logan.”

“You’re doing well,” Logan encourages, rubbing Virgil’s arms, “just stay here, with me, alright?”

Janus watches Patton and Remus stand a little closer to the three of them, shielding them from the debris still raining down from outside. Something in his gut clenches.

Then he notices the tremors are slowing as the other calm Virgil down.

And it clenches more.

“It’s us,” he mutters quietly, almost too quietly for the others to hear, “it’s us. We have to stick together.”

The thread on his tongue twitches angrily. There’s almost no sweetness left in his mouth now.

Patton looks over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Look—“ Janus points at a crack in the wall— “they’re moving slower now. The closer we are together the less this place falls apart.”

Virgil’s next inhale is almost a sob.

“I really do just ruin everything, don’t I?”

“No,” Roman says firmly, wrapping his arms tightly around the shaking Side, “we’ve had this conversation, shadow-ling. You’re important to us. You’re not a burden. And this certainly isn’t your fault.”

“We need you,” Patton echoes, reaching down to rest his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “don’t go anywhere.”

“Don’t make us chase you.” Remus bonks his head into Virgil’s. “Not fun.”

Virgil still looks doubtful. Which, alright, isn’t his fault. Voices in the head, not to mention the general anxiety, it’s no surprise, not really. Janus clears his throat.

“Virgil,” he says softly, crouching down as well, “Virgil, listen to me.”

Purple eyes stare at him.

“You haven’t lost us,” he promises, “you won’t lose us. You’re important, not just for Thomas, but for us too. We care about you. All of you.”

“Fuck, J,” Virgil huffs, swiping at his face, “why’d you have to make me cry?”

The tremors keep settling.

Patton throws his arms around Virgil. “See? We care about you, kiddo. We love you.”

Something else twitches in Janus’s throat as he hears Patton say that. Virgil must notice it too; he looks up and squints at Patton.

“Have we ever told you that we care about you?”

Bingo.

Patton falters, his grip wavering. His smile wobbles. “W-well, no, not really, but that’s okay! I know you do.”

Logan tilts his head. “But you enjoy hearing it said.”

The smile slips even further. “…you don’t like saying it.”

“That’s no excuse!” Roman reaches over Virgil to get to Patton. “If you want us to say it, we can say it!”

Janus shifts his attention. “Patton?”

“…yeah?”

“No one takes care of us like you do,” he says softly, “and none of us care as openly as you do.”

Patton’s eyes widen. “Janus—“

“You try,” he continues, not to be interrupted, not now, “and that is perhaps the most admirable thing we could ask for.”

“He made Pat cry too,” Virgil mutters, pulling the now-sobbing side in for a hug.

“Happy tears,” Patton manages, “I—wow.”

A crack in the wall disappears.

“Is that what this is?” Logan looks around. “An…emotional problem?”

“We’re fading, the whole Mindscape is,” Janus says around the thread, “if we—if we stay, then we can fix this.”

“O-oh.”

That tone of voice always leads somewhere good. Sure enough, as he looks around, he sees Logan adjust his glasses and take a step back.

“And where are you going?”

“I’m not sure I can help,” Logan says flatly. “You have the answer already.”

“But we’re not done.”

“And what do you expect I can lend to this problem?” He spreads his arms wide. “I’m no expert on emotions, nor am I useful in proving things that are already true.”

“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about, L?” Virgil scrambles up. “What are we proving here?”

“That you are important.” Logan frowns as Patton and Roman scramble up too. “What?”

“You’re implying that you’re not important,” Remus growls, “and I’m pissed about it.”

“But—“

“No buts!” Roman points a stern finger at him. “Believing yourself to be unimportant is a falsehood!”

“I never said I was unimportant,” Logan corrects, “I said I would not be helpful in this situation.”

“Bullshit. You helped me calm down.”

“So did Patton and Roman.”

“You figured out that I like being told that you guys care about me!”

“That was obvious.”

“Logan,” Janus calls softly to get his attention, “Logan, if you believe that anyone knows us better than you, you are gravely mistaken.”

Logan’s mouth drops open.

“You claim not to know emotions,” he continues, stepping closer, “but you know us, perhaps better than we know ourselves at times. You are kind, you are wonderful, and if you ever stop teaching us things, I am sure we would never recover.”

He slips Logan’s glasses back into position.

“You are not just Logic,” he murmurs, “you’re Logan. Stay. Be Logan.”

Logan swallows heavily.

“I must ask,” he says hoarsely as a tear rolls down his cheek, “if you intend to make everyone cry today.”

Janus chuckles. “No, I don’t, but it seems that it may be a side effect. I promise I’m not trying.”

“You won’t make me cry,” Remus remarks casually, “not without trying. I don’t care.”

Oh, Remus. Janus doesn’t bother to hide his smile at the indignant squawk from Virgil as Remus implies that he doesn’t care about the others.

“I don’t need to try to make you cry,” he says, “I’ve never wanted that. I just want you to be listened to.”

“…fuck you, Snakey.”

Patton lunges forward as Remus sniffles.

“Do we just like…not talk to each other, then?” Virgil wipes his nose. “Because I sure as hell don’t remember us getting this emotional about anything.”

Then Janus realizes that his mouth tastes bitter.

The thread has not been idle, he realizes in horror, not while he’s been spilling his guts to the others in an effort to hold them all together. It’s dragged itself over his tongue, scraping every last bit down his throat, winding tighter and tighter. His mouth tastes bitter. It’s not supposed to be bitter. It burns, scraping along the sides of his mouth until they smart. He swallows frantically. It’s not working. Nothing is working. It hurts. His tongue hurts. His throat hurts.

The floor wobbles.

He can’t catch his breath.

His eyes land on Roman.

No.

No, no, no, he can’t stop now.

Not here.

Not with Roman.

Roman just watches the others wrap their arms tightly around his brother still wiping snot from his nose. A soft smile curls at his mouth that never reaches his eyes. Behind him, massive cracks open up in the walls.

No.

He can’t let Roman fall.

Not after everything.

Roman notices he’s staring at him. He just raises an eyebrow.

“Going to make me cry again,” he asks softly, “or are you all finished for the day?”

The thread stabs words into his tongue until he can taste blood.

Well, it’s not like it’s difficult to make you cry.

If I had something that would work, I’d say it.

Only if you were a Side worth worrying about.

No.

No, no, he won’t say that. He won’t.

The thread tightens around his throat as a harsher warning. The bitterness on his tongue worsens.

“It’s alright, Janus—“ no, it isn’t— “I know you don’t like me much anyway. Don’t force yourself.”

At least you’re being considerate for once in your life.

Took you this long to figure it out, hmm? No wonder you’re called the stupidest Side.

Janus grits his teeth against the thread. It just keeps tightening. His mouth has never tasted sweet in his entire life.

He needs to tell Roman how important he is. He needs to tell Roman that they all have to start paying attention to him. He needs Roman to know that he’s sorry, sorry he ever implied otherwise.

All that comes out of his mouth instead is: “you need attention.”

Roman blinks. “Well, yes, I’d say that’s true.”

He has to tell Roman that Thomas needs him, needs him to be strong and healthy, to dream.

What comes out instead is: “you spend so much time stuck in your head.”

Roman frowns. “If that’s the best you can do, there’s no need to overexert yourself. I can make myself cry much easier than that.”

Why won’t his tongue cooperate?

The thread just tightens around him again. A warning. A threat. A promise.

He can’t tell the truth.

He can’t.

It doesn’t matter. Roman won’t know how important he is. He’ll think that Janus hates him and that’s fine.

Janus struggles to breathe.

“There are two Creativities,” he grits out, even if the ‘but only one Roman’ won’t follow.

“Patton is the heart,” comes out next, separate from ‘but he needs you to love.’

“We don’t need you,” hurts on the way out because it leaves behind ‘but we want you, we want you so badly.’

The Mindscape is crumbling. Janus can’t speak. The others are going to fade. He can’t help Roman. He’s ruined everything.

He’s forgotten what sweetness tastes like.

Roman is frowning at him. He stands, striding across the broken floor, eyes flint chips. Janus closes his eyes and braces for the hit.

Roman’s fingers hook into his collar and yank.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Why is it cutting into him?”

“How long has that been there, this whole time?”

“Janus—Janus can you breathe?”

What?

Janus opens his eyes in confusion. Roman’s still holding onto him but his eyes are fixed not on his face, but lower. Something shiny casts light onto Roman’s face.

“Janus,” Roman asks softly, “what is this?”

“What is what?”

“This,” Roman says darkly, fingertips tracing across something, “around your neck.”

No.

No, it’s not real.

It can’t be real.

…can it?

“It’s not a thread,” Janus spits out, his tongue smarting in the air, “and it doesn’t keep me from telling the truth.”

Roman’s eyes widen in horror. He reaches forward and Janus keens as the pressure tightens.

“Don’t stop,” he grits out, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“The sky is green.”

“What?”

“The sky is green,” Roman repeats, still glaring hard at Janus’s neck, “the Fourth of July is in October.”

The thread loosens.

“Remus, get over here,” Roman barks. A second later, two more fingers slip under the thread. “Now lie.”

“Um, ventricles are found in the liver.”

“Blue is made of red and orange.”

“The alphabet starts with the letter ‘m.’”

Logan catches on next. “The sun goes around the earth,” he says, nudging Virgil.

“Uh—“ he glances around— “Patton isn’t wearing glasses.”

“Paris is in Canada.”

“Books are printed on alligator skin.”

“Water isn’t clear.”

“Mark Zuckerberg isn’t the inventor of Facebook.”

“Earmuffs go on your hands.”

“Hamburgers are vegan.”

Lies spin out of their mouths. Remus grits his teeth as he pulls at the thread. Patton looks around frantically. Janus still can’t breathe.

The room is settling, slowly but surely, but there are still cracks snaking their way through the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Right under Janus.

Roman looks directly at him.

“I hate you.”

The thread gives.

The brothers yank, unspooling the thread from around Janus’s throat, throwing it at the walls. It freezes in mid-air, still glowing gold.

The cracks weren’t cracks, they were threads.

The golden thread melts seamlessly into the wall, knitting the place back together, stitch by stitch. The walls settle, glowing softly as the floor reconstitutes under them. The Mindscape breathes.

Janus hasn’t noticed any of this. He’s too busy collapsing into Roman’s arms, sobbing his heart out.

“Shh, shh, sweetheart,” Roman coos, “I’ve got you, you’re alright, you did it, come here…”

“He’s gonna be cold,” he hears someone—probably Virgil?—say over his shoulder, “grab a blanket. Can we sink?”

“Let me try.” A second later there’s another sigh of relief. “Yeah. We can. Let’s get him to the living room, I’ll get a fire going.”

“In the fireplace, this time, Remus!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“Come on, little snake,” Roman coaxes, lifting him up to a broad chest, “let’s get you warm.”

He’s still sobbing breathlessly, draped uselessly over Roman. He feels another set of arms as they sink into the couch.

“I’ve got him,” Patton says quietly, “hey, kiddo, can you hear me?”

The next sob is slightly higher.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, kiddo, you don’t have to speak right now.” Patton rubs soothing circles into his back. “Just stay right here with me, right here, the others are just getting the nest set up.”

N-nest?

“Give him to me, I’ll help him down while you slide in.”

“Make sure to get his head, he’s having trouble right now.”

“I understand.”

A warm hand cups the back of his neck, leaning his nose into the crook of a warm shoulder. Books, coffee, whiteboard pen…Logan.

“You’re freezing,” Logan murmurs, concerned, “let’s get you warmed up…no hyperthermia today, hmm?”

Janus almost groans in relief as his scales hit something thick and soft and warm. He’s still crying, isn’t he? Why?

“Hey, Snakey,” Remus mumbles, his hand under Janus’s head, “you gotta roll over, you’re gonna crush yourself that way. Come on—for crying out loud, you bastards, how long does it take to undo a clasp?”

“Got it.”

He suppresses a whine as his cape flies away, only for it quickly be replaced by a warm, warm blanket. He blinks his eyes open, straining to see through the tears. He can only see blobs. What is happening?

“Rest,” comes another voice, is that Roman? Isn’t Roman angry at him? He can’t stop the confused whine.

“Shh, shh, easy, little snake,” Roman soothes, running his hand through his hair, “breathe, that horrible thing was choking you.”

The horrible thread…is it…gone?

“Relax, come on, shh…easy,” he says earnestly when Janus whines again, “don’t work yourself up.”

“He’s gonna hurt himself if he keeps clawing at his throat like that.”

He’s doing what now?

Warm hands take each of his and…oh. Well, maybe he was.

“That’s it,” Patton whispers, “easy…”

“What…what’s going on?”

“You did it,” Logan says softly, stroking his thumb along the back of Janus’s hand, “you figured it out.”

“But—“ he swallows, still not used to the freedom in his throat— “I couldn’t do it.”

“You weren’t supposed to do it on your own, Jan-Jan. We all had to do it, remember?”

“That’s what you said, J.”

“So we did,” Patton finishes, smiling at him, “and it worked.”

“But—but I—“ Janus’s eyes flash up to catch Roman’s.

Roman, who sat there and didn’t protest when Janus couldn’t say one nice thing about him.

Roman, whom Janus has hurt so many times.

Roman, who pried the thread away from Janus’s throat without blinking.

Roman, who caught him, and is still here.

“Maybe the next time we talk,” Roman says softly, “we can do it without that thread around your throat, hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, little snake,” he murmurs, gently stroking a tear away from Janus’s cheek, “I know. But not right now, okay? You’re still crying.”

He is?

Oh.

“Close your eyes,” he encourages, his hand still cupping Janus’s face, “rest, we all need it.”

“Did we—“ his tongue is heavy— “did we ever figure out what happened?”

“I believe Thomas had something of an identity crisis,” Logan remarks, “but we can figure that out later. For now…we should all try and go back to sleep.”

“Great. Pop Star, budge.”

“Hey! Kiddo!”

“Ah. Much better.”

“Pocket Protector, stop pretending you don’t wanna cuddle and get down here.”

“In a moment, Remus, I need to take my glasses off.”

“Ro-Bro! Get over here.”

“Re, pulling me over Janus is not going to work.”

“L, are you coming?”

“Must you all be so impatient?”

“Yes, my dear darling nerd, now come here.”

Logan rolls his eyes and lies down, still holding Janus’s hand. On his other side, Roman leans Janus’s head into his chest and hums softly.

“There. Now we’re all together again.”

“Shut the fuck up, Princey, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Shut up yourself, then.”

“Kiddos.”

“Sorry, Pat.”

Logan chuckles. Remus shifts on the edge of the blanket nest. Roman tilts Janus’s chin up.

“Are you alright,” he whispers as the others drift off to sleep, “not hurt?”

Janus shakes his head. “I…was it really a lie?”

“Was what really a lie, little snake?”

“…you said ‘I hate you.’”

“Oh, that.” Roman chucks him lightly under the chin. “What does your mouth taste like?”

…sweet.

It’s sweet.

Oh.

Roman smiles. “Go to sleep, little snake.”

The Sides fall asleep in the Mindscape, threads wearing them tightly together.

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