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#you'd never meet quota
caycanteven · 3 months
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shakes rapidly
...c'mere pap lovers, I brought you food~! /j
(I will make headcannons for the Papy's soon I promise)
Big love to the creators of Swapfell and Fellswap 🫶
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catcze · 6 months
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wriothesley would do the thing when you make out with him where he like. shoves his knee between your legs while he pins you to something and I absolutely stand by that.
16+ !! Suggestive content !!
OH HE WOULDD oh fucking shit he would that's so hot. Also. I got. Carried away. Again.
「 CWS : 」 Heavily suggestive. Like. incredibly so. Teetering the line between suggestive and worth classifying as h word content, even. They make out. Wrio likes biting and marking reader up and hearing the reader. Reader is kinda needy and sensitive.There's nothing explicitly sexual (which is the primary reason i only marked this as 16+ and not something higher) but it is heavily veering in that direction lmao. Also some softness at the end. GN reader.
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Wriothesley takes every chance he can to pin you against a wall and absolutely kiss you breathless. You'd be hard pressed to find anywhere in the fortress where he hasn't tried to sneak a kiss in once or twice. It's as if he has to meet a regular quota of kisses from you to get through his day, and now is no exception.
His office is arguably one of his favorite locations aside from his bedroom. Your back is against one of the many bookshelves, the hard spines and shelves digging into your skin, but you couldn't care any less with his lips on yours and his hands roaming all over you. He pulls from you a stream gasps and whines and eagerly swallows them down like the finest of tea, so readily taking everything you have to offer.
"Wrio," you gasp when he lets you come up for air, face warm and practically shaking in his hold. Wriothesley on the other hand immediately goes to your neck where he laves heavy kisses, kitten licks and the occasional nip on your skin. As you whine at the sensation, you're damn sure that the skin there is going to be sore tomorrow.
One of Wriothesley's hands comes up to grip your waist and the other weaves his fingers with yours, pinning your hand back against the bookshelf and making a couple thick tomes tumble down with a loud thump. Wriothesley doesn't care in the slightest, never tearing his attention away from you.
You tremble in his hold, legs shaking and practically jelly. Small gasps and whines leave you with each pass he makes on your neck, and at the rate you’re going you might just end up tumbling to the floor, too.
Wriothesley knows this, and graciously he shoves a thigh between your legs, and lets you practically sit on it while he gets right back to business.
He does it to be caring, you know, to make sure you’re supported and you don’t fall. But in the long run it's even more detrimental to your sanity than if he had just let you collapse in a heap. The extra touch has your mind abuzz, has your hands shaking and a whimper crawling up the back of your throat. With his thigh between your legs, he leans more of his body weight into you and against the bookshelf, pressing his face further into your neck and making his ministrations feel all that more heavy.
It has you letting out the loudest gasp, a breathless call of his name that has you mortified at how needy you are. Flames of embarrassment lick at your neck and your face, and your free hand slaps over your mouth to muffle any other noises you make.
Wriothesley nips at your skin a bit harsher, as if in punishment.
"Let me hear you, sweetheart," he says, voice a raspy, low rumble. "I want to know you feel good. Please." He pulls your hand away from your mouth and settles it on his shoulder instead, letting you grip his shirt for support as he goes back to marking you up, intent of pulling every single noise he can from your throat.
Helpless, you gasp and whine and fucking squirm as Wriothesley keeps his mouth and his teeth on your neck, intent of painting your skin like a canvas. When he's satisfied with his work and returns to kissing your lips raw, your mind feels hazy and there's an apothecary of butterflies fluttering wild in your stomach.
You squeeze Wriothesley's hand, his shoulder— any part of him that you can get your hands on. He hums in delight every time you do so, his efforts to kiss you senseless redoubling and making the tingle in your limbs grow.
"Wrio," you whine between kisses, resting your weight on his thigh, practically slumping against him as you go boneless in his hold. His hand on your waist pulls you closer, pins you securely between him and the bookshelf. You shake like a leaf in the wind, the blood running hot in your veins.
Wriothesley holds you against him while you regain your breath, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.
"I love you," he says, softly. Sweetly. So at odds with the hungry way he’d kissed you and covered you in his marks. His hand squeezes yours, he pulls you even closer against him. He sighs. "I love you so very very much."
You don't respond— don't have enough air in your lungs for that yet, but you squeeze his hand tight in your own. One, two, three times, and lean into him like you're about to fall asleep. He doesn’t mind your silence. If anything, he sidles up closer and adjusts his grip so that you can be a bit more comfortable. Another kiss finds it’s way into your hair. Another hum escapes you.
Wriothesley doesn't need to hear your answer aloud— not when he's already well aware of his place in your heart.
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kdyism · 2 years
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♡ NCT DREAM + the way they say i love you without saying “i love you”
LEE MARK says i love you in the little ways the sound of his giggles warms your chest. in the way he doesn't have to be in front of you but the sound of his encouragement does all the work by pushing you a little forward in the right way and silently doing his best in supporting you. he says i love you without saying i love you by being your support at all times even if you don't see it. it's his giggle, that always follows his awkward statements, they tell you his inner feeling more than he would verbally.
HUANG RENJUN says i love you in his little display of affection. you know he is shy when it comes to his own emotions but he shows his appreciation and love for you by doing his best to meet your needed affection quota. even little reassuring pats and small hugs, they are sprinkled in between and always there when you need it. his hands intertwine with your whenever your hand looks lonely, and his fingers play with your hair when he is unconsciously watching you do nothing. his little touches that you don't think he does purposely say a lot.
LEE JENO says i love you with his constant accommodation. while this behaviour can come across as pushover-y, he nevers lets his own emotions be overshadowed because to him, accommodating you is something that gives him a sense of joy. he loves you in the way he loves being the one who is most perfect for you, the one who understands your needs and wants perfectly enough to not spoil you but still spoil you. he is willing to do anything for you while also being the one to tell you no and stop you from doing something that wouldn't turn out well. his accommodation of your every whim screams his love for you more than any grand gesture ever could.
LEE HAECHAN says i love you in his bouts of seriousness. for as long as you have known, he has always maintained his carefree, positive attitude about everything he has done and wants to achieve; the same was the case of you but when it really mattered, his bouts of sudden seriousness, that melts any doubt you'd ever have in his actions towards you or anything else, is what shows his care and love the most. it's in this seriousness you know that in his mind, you do take a priority even if he doesn't seem to care at other times and that's its his confidence in what you can do that he keeps to himself when he knows he isn't needed.
NA JAEMIN says i love you in the way he is a chronic smiler around you, whenever he leaves your presence, the stabbing pain on his cheeks will announce their presence because before that he didn't notice how much they were hurting because he was focused on you. as if it were habitual, the text will come to you, “my cheeks hurt ☹️” every time. but regardless of the following pain, he always finds himself smiling at the littlest of things around you, maybe it was you or maybe it was something he will forever associate with you, he can't hide his smile when he is around you.
ZHONG CHENLE says i love you in his stillness. the way he shows his love for you is in his daily, minute actions that he probably doesn't know he does because it is woven into him. the blanket in the back of his car that is just for you, the tissue packet in his bag that is just for you, the way sundays are always left free just for you. his routine that bends and moulds to fit you into it perfectly, he still gets shocked when an abrupt plan fits into his schedule because he has unconsciously been making space for you anyway.
PARK JISUNG says i love you in his subtle clingy-ness and his almost abundant information about you. you never have to worry about anything when he is around, without even asking he just knows what you want and what you would prefer by observing your body language. the times he brings over himself because your voice over the call seemed like you wanted to ask him but didn't, you always feel how much he loves you when he does this thing where communication is unspoken but still said.
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©KDYISM, 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Drinking Water & Staying Hydrated
On this account we cover how to do things that are "common sense" for the people who dont know. Shame-free. Today, we'll be covering some tips and tricks for drinking more water when you're unmotivated to or simply forget.
If you were to ever find yourself lost in the wilderness, the first thing you would wanna look for ASAP is a source of water. Humans need around 8 glasses (~2L) of water a day that our bodies can function right! It's very important, as dehydration can lead to constipation, kidney stones, overheating, exhaustion and generally a really bad mood!
Water helps to..
• keep your joints flexible
• regulate your temperature
• clean your insides via sweat/urination
• digest, salivate, transport nutrients
• carrying oxygen to your cells
• maintaining electrolyte balance
And much more. We're made up of around 60% water, after all. Though, drinking that much water every day can be a very tiresome chore for many of us, especially those who struggle with executive dysfunction and mental illness. Never fear: we've compiled a big list of little actions you can take that might help you drink a little bit more water in a day. Don't worry if 2 liters of water sounds like a big step! Even a few sips more makes a big difference. Progress is not linear!
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1) Switch it up - Water is obviously tasteless and for many people this deters them from staying hydrated when they could opt for something more sweet or exciting like a juice or soda. Luckily, there are dozens of ways to spice up your drinks. Hundreds of artificial flavorings exist; MiO, Sunkist, Starburst and other more affordable off brand water enhancers can transform your drink into something more flavorful. Whether you want something tart like lemonade, savory like iced tea or sweet like fruit punch, there's an enhancer that will fit your taste.
If you would prefer something more natural, there's countless recipes for fruit infused water. Cucumbers, lemon slices and mint can give your water that subtle boost you need to encourage hydration. Below we'll link some recipes if you'd like to try them.
For some people, its not so much the taste, but more so the texture. If you're a soda lover, opt for some sparkling water instead, flavored or unflavored. Brands like LaCroix, Sparkling Ice and Bubly can all give you the same smooth sipping of a soft drink while helping you meet your water quota for the day.
If none of these sound like something you're interested in, you can always opt for making tea instead, hot or iced. If you like cold drinks, you could make a whole pitcher and keep it in your fridge for easy access, whether its chamomile, matcha or plain old Lipton.
2) Make it fun - Making yourself genuinely want to do something is a great way to tackle executive dysfunction. If you're able and open to spending some extra money, buying yourself a fun new water bottle can make you want to use it and carry it with you. Personalization is another way to make a new water bottle even more fun or enhance one you already have. Add dishwasher safe stickers, customized beaded/braided handles and marked timestamps.
A free, more low effort alternative to make drinking water fun is to download an app such as Plant Nanny. Its premise is simple - drink water and in return you water an adorable plant in app. With your help, they'll grow up and you can slowly collect them all. Its a bright, colorful, interactive game that will help you visualize your needs and be rewarded for taking care of them.
3) Eat your water - If the action of drinking is something you struggle with, opt for eating water-rich foods. On top of being a great way to meet your water goals, it comes with more nutrients, vitamins and fiber than regular water while leaving you feeling filled. Below are some fruits and veggies you can snack on that will leave you feeling more hydrated.
Cucumber - 96% water
Celery - 95% water
Spinach - 93% water
Watermelon - 91% water
Cantaloupe - 90% water
And much more!
For something more fun, you can always make some popsicles with coconut water (94% water) and fruit. Pop those in the freezer and have delicious ice pops ready to go in a few hours.
4) Reminders and Encouragement - If you dont have an issue with drinking water but you often forget, a gentle push in the right direction may be all you need. Ask your friends or family for motivation and reminders. You can even challenge them or work towards goals together! Theres nothing better than some friendly competition.
Apps like Waterminder, Waterllama and Habit Tracker can all send reminders to your phone and help you track your progress. If you dont want to download an app, you can always just set some alarms as well. Plant Nanny, as mentioned above, is a fun alternative to this that brings gaming into the picture.
5) Passive Influence - Making some small changes to your routine can make drinking water passively a lot easier. Keep your water bottle on you, carry it from room to room, that way its always easily accessible when you're thirsty.
Switch out your regular snacks for something spicy or salty. Get a bowl of pretzels and a glass of water at the same time and you'll find yourself drinking it with ease. Potato chips, lays, fries or salted nuts are all great options.
If you cant find yourself able to replace your regular beverage with water, challenge yourself to drink a glass of water before you have one. Keep water bottles (plastic or reusable) next to your regular drink in the fridge so you remember to grab both. Another quick way to get some added hydration is adding extra ice to what you usually drink. About 8 cubes is a cup of water!
Always get a glass of water before bed so you have something to sip on, and in case you wake up feeling thirsty. Its a good habit to also get a glass of water right when you wake up. Thats already knocked two glasses out of the way for the day.
Another great idea as a passive, unscheduled reminder, is to drink water every time you use the bathroom. Theres no shame in leaving your water bottle in there as a gentle reminder when you walk in.
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Most importantly, more important than drinking 8 glasses of water a day, is to be gentle with yourself. Its okay if you struggle with drinking even one glass a day. Just trying to take small steps in the right direction takes a lot of strength. Try some of these tips out, even if you don't think they'll work for you. Who knows, one might change your relationship with water before you know it!
Products, Recipes & Articles:
8 Infused Water Recipes
MiO Liquid Water Enhancer
Plant Nanny
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ohcorny · 24 days
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Do you think if you ever picked up the NS characters again for a new project, you'd do something more similar to how you're working on and releasing hunger's bite? Is the work flow more sustainable and enjoyable to you?
well that would require me pitching and selling never satisfied to a traditional publisher, which 50% of is out of my hands. and the fact it's already been printed twice would likely have an effect.
that said i do enjoy the workflow i've been using for hunger's bite. there's a relief in having the entire story mapped out and, after getting through the thumbnails, just following my own instructions. i like the routine it gives me as a 'day job' to meet a self-set quota every week
i would probably never use this workflow for a webcomic though (but honestly. unless the environment Completely Changes i don't see myself returning to webcomics anyway. i like to be paid for the amount of work i'm doing)
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syoddeye · 2 months
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For the Record
Price x f!Reader | Ongoing
For as long as you can remember, the unit next door has sat vacant. It's nice not having neighbors to bother you or complain about the noise your band makes. That is, until three English fellas and a Scot move in.
Read only on AO3 | Playlist | Pinterest | ~1.5k excerpt below
The street lamps start turning off by the time you make it home from the gig. Well, they would be if the city and powers-at-be actually bothered to fix the street lamps on your block. There's the one at the far end that's flickering, struggling to keep on keeping on in the shadows.
It felt corny to feel kinship with a lamp, but you did.
The old neighborhood is the sort of place officials avoid unless there's an election, cops ignore until they need to meet quota, and is completely erased from any tourism guide. Your street is a mixture of decrepit, fallen-in homes, neglected apartment buildings, and half-occupied duplexes. Then there's your personal slice of the rotten pie: old Brownstone #1 on the corner. It's one of two on the block, remnants of a proposed housing project from at least a decade before you were born that quickly had its funding redirected, or so the story goes.
Whatever the history, the brownstone wasn't just a unique fixture. It was yours. Owned, no shitty landlord in sight. You thanked your dearly departed grandmother every time you traipse up the steps and throttle the ancient door to get it to unstick. When Grandma Bea passed five years earlier and left the place to you, completely paid off, your parents were nearly hysterical. They didn't believe she'd leave you a thing, let alone her house. And they certainly didn't think you could handle the responsibility. The way your father yelled at the reading of the will still haunted you.
"Old broad must've been sicker than we knew if she left it to you."
Back then, you felt guilty when you picked up the keys. As all families do, your parents had near-surgical precision with how they chose to belittle and insult you. According to them, there were a hundred reasons why you didn't deserve a house. You were a college dropout. You got picked up for underage drinking. You got a tattoo before you were eighteen. You slept with men, women, and almost anyone who turned your head. Plus, all the other garbage you got into as a teenager and early twenty-something.
So why did sweet, saint-like Grandma Bea leave you the brownstone?
You liked to think it was her last great act, solidifying her place in heaven or sainthood, to give her house to the girl least likely to do anything with her life. Or maybe she simply hated your dad and her other kids, you didn't know, and you weren't about to pull out the Ouija board to ask.
You slam the front door shut behind you, uncaring about noise. That was the other fantastic detail about the brownstone being part of a pair - the other unit had been unoccupied for years, as long as you'd been there. You had no idea who owned it, but you had your suspicions. Most likely, it was some rich guy's investment property that he lost track of in his portfolio.
Unfortunately, like the rest of the block, squatters frequently broke into the vacant property. Since you shared one thin wall with the place, you always knew when they arrived. You'd hear stomping feet, clinking beer bottles, and random shouting matches in the dead of night. However, unlike the rest of the block, they were never there for more than a few days. The cops would turn up and haul them out with little fanfare. It seemed like the only time cops ever responded to calls on your side of town, and you knew none of your neighbors, yourself included, would place that call.
Any damages the empty brownstone incurred, from vandals or otherwise, were promptly repaired. Then, it was left alone once more. It was weird, but at least you had more privacy.
After kicking off your shoes in the vestibule and hooking your keys to your jeans, you head straight back through the dining room and into the kitchen. As you pass it on the end of the counter, you switch on the radio, instantly filling the small space with soft, psychedelic funk. You wrinkle your nose instantly at the sounds, but this was why you loved college radio—weird-as-shit kids playing weird-as-shit music. Kept you on your toes.
Your hips can't help but sway to the frankly groovy music as you scavenge a halfway-decent dinner-breakfast: the last yogurt cup and a day-old bagel from job number two. You polish off the meager meal, make a note to finally grocery shop, and, for dessert, a clove. You held the stick in your mouth and commenced a search for a lighter. You were certain you'd given Amos your zippo at the gig, but the scamp didn't return it. You root around the junk drawers for a few minutes. The instrumental song from the radio fades as you locate a plastic, hot pink lighter from the depths, and in the lull, you hear it.
Glass breaking. It was faint, but you knew the sound, and it came from the backyard. Bootsy Collins's voice trickles out of the speakers. Reluctantly, you turn the dial down—and there are muffled voices. With a resigned sigh, you clutch the lighter in one hand and creep toward the mud room through another arch in the kitchen. As you pass the gap between the fridge and the wall, you grab the bat kept there. 
Nearing the back door, you silently curse yourself for failing to install any of the extra deadbolts you keep buying and neglecting to put in. You stare hard out the small four-pane window of the door and almost have a heart attack as a beam of light bounces off the glass quickly. After a second, you continue, tuck the lighter in your jeans, and press yourself to the door.
Voices, two men from the sound of it, but faintly accented. British? Difficult to tell, but weird. You still again at the sound of shifting feet on gravel. Cautiously, you lean up and to chance a look out the glass panes.
From what you can see in the moon's dim light, there's only one man, and he's pussyfooting near the low, crumbling brick wall separating your yard from the vacant unit. He sports a ballcap, holds a flashlight, and crouches. He appears to root around on the other side of the low barrier, and though he's no longer speaking at an audible volume, you imagine he's muttering to himself. Where's his buddy?
You push onto your toes, and the wood creaks traitorously beneath your feet. In a flash, he's up on his feet, and the flashlight hits the window.
You fall into a crouch immediately and squint with a muted groan.  After the gig, your knees protest the position, but you wait. When all is silent beyond the door, you wonder if you scared him and his friend off. More often than not, you found, tweakers and vagrants ran off at the first sign of someone sober. Not worth the trouble to have a witness and all that, you guess.
It's another minute before you peek outside again, and it looks all clear. A relieved sigh slips out, and you shoulder the bat then unlock the deadbolt. At least the would-be vandals didn't interrupt dessert. One at a time, you slip your feet into the old wellies kept by the back door and step outside. Atop the shallow stoop, you withdraw the lighter, flick it open, and bring the flame to your lips.
It's a nice night. Decent temperature, probably one of the last warm evenings before autumn sets in. You idly twirl the bat in your dominant hand and survey the sad little kingdom of dirt, dead foliage, and trash. Your eyes trail along the wall, and you can't resist. What was that dude looking for, anyway? Bits of broken stone scrape underfoot as you cross the yard and take a drag. Maybe he tagged it. Perhaps the guy stashed something. Whatever the reason, curiosity called. You steal a glance in both directions of the alley to be safe, but it's a ghost town.
Walking along the wall, the clove dangles in the corner of your mouth, and you squint to see where the man was kneeling minutes ago. Your grip on the bat tightens at the sight of a large dark shape, no, two dark shapes tucked against the brick. A chill runs down your spine as your brain rapidly identifies the objects - two black duffel bags. Being who you are and where you are, your mind goes to dark places, and you unconsciously tighten your grip on the bat.
This really isn't any of your business. But. It is right on the border of your home. Steeling yourself, you start to bend down to investigate.
Then, at the very edge of your periphery, there's movement. It ignites something primal, but it's like a misfire. A primordial instinct to fight wins out over the more logical idea of flight. You drop the clove, close your eyes, and swing blind.
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c-liffy · 1 year
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I Still Don't Like You
Ryujin x Violinist!Reader | Ryujin and Reader both attend Hanlim | Ryujin is one year older than Reader
(wc: 1084)
To say you and Ryujin were friends was putting it loosely.
Sure, you were in the same friend group, but Ryujin never could shake her small dislike towards you. You were a year her junior and yet you acted like you were still a child sometimes.
Those that went to Hanlim were the best of the best. It was supposed to be a place where only mature students nurtured their talent until, in many of the students' cases, they debuted. 
However, you weren't interested in debuting. Sure, you were an Applied Music Major, so you were friends with many of the soon-to-be idols, but you played the violin. Your parents started you on lessons when you were just four and had no idea that your hatred for constantly being urged to practice would blossom into unconditional love for the instrument.
And soon enough you were 15 and a golden ticket to a performing arts school was at your door.
Of course, you were a bit too oblivious to realize that the scholarships and tantalizing offers were only because Hanlim had a quota to meet. To be recognized as a "Performing Arts Institution'' they would need more than just the single vocal department they had. Though, this only gave you drive. Maybe it was an intended effect, maybe it was accidental, but you took it as a challenge. 
Unfortunately, such a renowned school also came with heaps of homework. Which only left you time to practice in the late hours of the night.
Which leads you to right now.
You weren't sure what time it was. Only that you'd entered the Performance Center at eleven; you could only guess how late it was now. 
The haziness from the night was getting to you and you wanted anything but to practice. Moments prior the wooden instrument was resting in your shaking hands and the only thing you could think was to drop it and watch it smash into splintered shards.
Many of your friends often expressed a kind of hopelessness that came with being in the crowd of Hanlim students with stars in their eyes and dreams of debuting in a popular group. You could only nod as they would slump against you; 
"You have no idea! I wish I wasn't in the dance department and just played an instrument like you!"
Usually some form of a backhanded compliment would follow but you just brushed it off. If only they knew how much you understood.
You sit at the edge of the stage; violin and bow set next to you. Your face is in your hands as you rub away the tears that brimmed your eyes and hopefully some of the frustration that came with. 
The misery sits swirling around you until the sound of one of the side-stage doors opening knocks you down from your thoughts,
"Ryujin?" 
Great, she thinks, the one person she really doesn't want to see is sitting before her. Ryujin’s sure you're soon going to come bounding up to her with glitter in your expression and rainbows across your head. And so she looks up, expecting you to be just as she thinks.
But you don't look cheerful or giggly; you just look tired.
Seldom, if ever, had she ever seen you this down. Perhaps after a test or some faint mocking of being sad, but your eyes look more of murky pitfalls than anything even close to rainbows,
"Ryujin? What are you doing here?" You repeat
"Oh... I was looking for a stage to rehearse something I have, but I didn't know this was occupied," She begins to retreat back into the hall
"It's not. I'm," You pause to frown at your discarded instrument, "I'm done here," Hopping off the stage, you wrap your fingers around the neck of your violin and pluck a few of the strings with your left hand
"Are you sure? Chaeryoung always says you don't come back to the dorms until she's awake for her classes," An awkward chuckle dies on her lips as she rubs over her nape
"Yeah. Maybe some sleep would help," You think outloud and shake your thoughts away before laying your violin in it's case and begin to untighten your bow.
Ryujin can't help but feel the stiff tension around you both. Usually you would crack a joke that would cause bubbling laughter to break up the pressure, but now the air just feels passè; stale,
"Wait!" You turn with a confused look back at her, "I wanna hear you play something?" God, what was she doing? She's not supposed to want you to feel better. She's not supposed to want to see you smile
"It's fine, Ryujin. I know you don't like me. You don't have to make me feel better," She freezes as you turn back to continue packing up. Ryujin isn't used to seeing this side of you; blunt and eerily unnerving.
She opens her mouth to excuse anything she can, but nothing comes out. With a lick of her lips, she shuts her mouth and folds her arms to her body. Ryujin's sure enough that she doesn't like you when you're loud squeals and bright sunshine, but now that you're quiet and dim she's not sure why she doesn't like you.
It can't be your personality.
It can't be your appearance.
It's definitely not your appearance. Even when she scowls at your childish antics she can't help but let her gaze linger on you. Your silky hair, your smooth skin, your style that somehow let you effortlessly fit every occasion and dresscode to a T. 
And it's envy, she thinks, that causes her eyes to deceive her.
But then the snap of your violin case being clasped shut throws her out of her reverie; and it hits her.
Shit.
Ryujin figures out why she seems to have such a disdain towards you. 
She gasps faintly at her realization. In the same breath, you begin towards the exit of the auditorium. 
She wants to chase after you but it’s almost as if her feet are sunken down into the stage; she can’t move
“Wait! Y/N!” Ryujin swears she sees you pause, just for a fraction of a second, but you open the door and leave the room anyway. The door swings shut with a thud and she nearly sinks to her knees then and there.
She reaches up and feels her cheeks are irritatingly warm. She liked you a lot more, Ryujin decides, when you annoyed her. 
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monkey-network · 4 months
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The Disposable Era of Cartoons
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There exists many cartoons in the world that a vast majority never really bring up, and that's okay. Not everyone can watch everything all the time and you can argue that we only scratch the surface since the beginning. I've always had this deep seeded thought however of how animation's been treated, notably of tv shows. Browsing my usual "streaming" sites, I often come upon a show I've never heard of before. One just recently was Zokie of Planet Ruby, a series made by Nelvana, hosted by Nickelodeon, with its entire first season dropped on Amazon Prime on the last day of 2023. Overall, it's not a show I'm interested in, but how it was just dumped onto streaming upon other factors like that got deep seeded thought resurfacing into a theory. A theory regarding the potential era where excess is reaching its apex.
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Animated TV shows I say are more arduous to make than films. Not to say films are more effortless to produce, god no, but have better limits given you'll have a set script and runtime to work off of as opposed to having to constantly produce multiple at a time for episodes ranging from 7 to 22 minutes. We work on a timeline where it's hard to believe any new story isn't derivative of already told stories, but the beauty does come in how we're able to transform them with new purposes and concepts. The workload however can be a lot many recognize but don't grasp themselves only as outsiders. The pitch getting greenlit is just the big toe in the door, finally stepping in is a matter of juggling multiple episodes a day, revising and editing, deliveries to the animators, all for the hope that it gets back in time to air. This is where I've come to appreciate The Simpsons, good and bad. Regardless of a recent season's quality, it's undoubtedly difficult to schedule fresh ideas that can stick with the same concepts for 30+ years, all to meet the quota by the beginning of the autumn season. Things have shifted thanks to streaming.
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In retrospect, what felt like a novel idea was inevitably gonna turn into a capitalistic nightmare. It makes some sense that Netflix wouldn't have a monopoly on hosting every show from cable TV to be put on their newly founded streaming site in 2007. It wouldn't have been long before every other studio threw their hat in, developing their own stream sites with the properties they made and owned themselves. Competition is natural, but now you're basically spending the same prices as cable or satellite if you wanted to watch every show you remembered seeing on TV. Sites like Tubi and PlutoTV I say are the saving graces where you can shockingly find a ton of film/shows old and new for free, but you've probably seen shows and films getting removed from the sites they originate from, either to be traded to another site or written off for good because investment returns weren't a shake 'n bake. All this is because of rights ownership and a complex web of cost cutting against the people behind said shows and films. What does this mean for cartoons, though?
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Like TV shows, you're gonna have a few poster boys upon a ton of shows nobody beyond avid seekers are gonna bother remembering. This has been a trend long in the making, but while many shows can be greenlit and made it can be a crapshoot as to whether the company actually believes in that show enough to market it. For Nickelodeon, it's an open secret that any cartoon not an instant hit like Spongebob, despite little promotion from the company, would be chucked onto the Nicktoons network to run out their remaining episodes. With streaming however, you'd either get something like Zokie of Planet Ruby where everything's dumped without warning or Glitch Techs where it's stuck in development limbo with half its episodes un-aired or incomplete. This isn't just with Nick however. Disney and Cartoon Network has had its fair share of duds everyone's slept on if they weren't massively eyecatching regardless of quality. The fates of their existence is dependent on who's keeping an eye on the companies. This isn't to say shows like Infinity Train and Final Space, which got removed digitally back in October and December respectively, didn't have their supporters who expressed outrage. It's to say other shows couldn't get that level of reported support, and I feel it's only going to get worse.
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This is what I believe amounts to the theoretical "Disposable Era" of television, where we aren't just having companies dispose shows but create shows that are purposefully disposable. For websites designed to stream cyclically endless content, this will mean an exponential ton of commissioned projects for cheap that anyone will pick up once, never watch again, and can be written off immediately after a small period because no one outside the crew responsible would notice, incapable of viewing unless someone miraculously torrents everything. While I've brought up TV in general as opposed to just animated stuff, I personally feel the efforts and imaginative possibilities of animation count more for the generations that grow up with them as much as the influences they can have on artists. And I can feel it's discouraging for creators to know that their work can be eventually assembly lined, worst than reality tv, and then erased for tax breaks because nobody thought about them for more than the weekend they binged it all.
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This is all if you don't account for anime studios like MAPPA which are a whole other horrifying story
I say "theoretical" because we aren't that far to where it could be possible. Shows do take time to make, and even if companies are pushing AI it's barely able to be anything more than an asset for certain cases. People have their reasonable fears, but an animated show fully AI generated that lasts more than 2 7-minute episodes, at this point in time, is a wet dream from investors. AI will not easily replace the craft, but the craft will be abused year after year with of how many shows get greenlit, made within a couple years, only to be thrown out when the numbers don't appease. This doesn't mean we won't get quality gems, but the rough they come from will pile more and more, and the gems some find that the majority will ignore will be written off and vaulted. I say the inception behind my theory wasn't exactly from the recent stuff like David Zaslav or Paramount's haphazard treatment of their content, it goes a little further back.
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Hanazuki: Full of Treasures wasn't a huge series back in 2017, but it was one I enjoyed a lot when it was premiering on Youtube at the time. After its first season finished, Hasbro would produce a theatrical short to coincide with the My Little Pony movie in October. This is where I felt things fell apart. While the film was a commercial success, the short was basically overshadowed and I can't help imagine was what affected the series by the time it got a season two. 2019 was where Hanazuki not only got its broadcast season cut, Hasbro would basically start erasing its existence while supposedly having in development limbo since. While it was all thankfully reuploaded, you wouldn't have been remiss to know Hasbro couldn't even allow it to stay on Youtube after its TV broadcasting.
Everything surrounding rights ownership and royalties has basically developed an endless turmoil of how shows and their crew are treated. I don't blame anyone for not discussing or mentioning everything that gets to exist. Variety is never a bad thing, and sometimes people want certain things because again not everyone thinks or enjoys stuff homogeneously. It's just always increasingly bothered me that so much can get pumped out to be either taken away or left there for people to stumble across. TV's become Youtube but more business heavy where creativity is a tightrope of whether their appeal gets to live for more than a week or not. Like Youtube though, can also be lost to time to no one looking back. Let's just say David Zaslav running WB is only considered the worst because he's become the biggest face of an open secret. He could very well be the beginning of a shift that could lead us into the Disposable Era, and it's anyone guess of how bad it could get.
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With all this said, I don't believe preventative hope can't exist, especially without the effort. Piracy is already doing enough for preservation and availability, even if you gotta have adblock to watch them properly. More creators I feel should learn and process the rights they can have with their properties. If there's anything I learned from artists Bill Watterson and Making Fiends' creator Amy Winfrey, is that production syndicates will abuse their knowledge of the law to do as they see fit, especially when it comes down to what you're offering them. The eventual animators and VFX work strikes could provide something more stable, but that's all in due time. How much the average audience member can retain or hyperfixate on is not something to concern, rather that it happens at all. The best solution is finding a middle ground between the disposable and sentimental; more people being vocal about good stuff they found no matter how small. There can be pushback from online lethargic asshats, but it's far better than complaining about the multitude of reboots or how woke everything's become. Something is only as disposable as nobody proclaims otherwise.
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but that's all just a theory.
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myreia · 1 month
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Annual meeting with our landlord who likes to just assume that we're available at a specific time with no notice to give him the rent cheques for the year (since this guy has apparently still not heard of direct deposit or autopay).
My partner politely told him we are not available at the requested time and gave him a timeframe to work with but he never heard back. My partner is out, I'm working from home so I'm technically here and available, but since our landlord does not even remember my name and still calls me "the girlfriend" (and blames any issues with our sink plumbing on me "shaving [your] legs in the sink" it was a whole thing), I'm not comfortable meeting with him on my own. He also doesn't call my partner by the right name, he substitutes it for a more popular name that starts with the same letter.
So either our landlord shows up in an hour and yells at me because I don't have the rent cheques (this has happened in a previous year), or he shows up later when my partner is home and is grumpy because we didn't meet him at his last minute requested time.
Doesn't help that we have something in the apartment we need him to look at and replace and getting him to fix anything around here is like pulling teeth. We basically have an unofficially quota of "ask for one fix per year" unless it's an electrical or plumbing emergency.
idk been here six years, you'd think our landlord would be more flexible and at the very least remember our names correctly but...
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happyhappysparkle · 4 months
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gimme that Beautiful Hell and one shots (pretty please 👉🏻👈🏻)
Oooh fun, thanks for asking!
There's not a lot in my oneshots folder, but I fell in love with Heller about a minute and a half into Starfield, so I started writing a little Heller/Spacefarer thing. What can I say, I guess I love me a snarky boy with a rock collection 🤷‍♀️
Heller's never been the best or the brightest. He's always known it. He's good at his job, sure. Smart enough to know how to get ahead in it. He makes sure the folks under him work hard enough and work safe enough. Lin trusts him, and they get along. He's made a name for himself in her crew. Which is not hard, really, when the only competition is a bunch of half-drunk dusties from the kind of bum-fuck systems the rest of the universe forgot. Most of them just want to clock in, meet their quotas - just barely - and get paid at the end of the week. Guy like Heller puts in a little extra effort, shows he knows what he's doing, and the boss notices. So when a new batch of recruits filed in one boring afternoon on some boring old rock in the middle of nowhere, he was expecting more of the same. And that's mostly what he got, until he got to her. She'd been staring all around the place while she waited in line for processing. Fidgeting, antsy. So when the line had moved along and he called her up to the desk, he'd figured she probably wasn't all there. They get all kinds in this line of work, and she wouldn't be the first zone-head. But then he called her over, and her gaze snapped to his face. The green eyes she fixed on him were piercing. Intelligent. Way too damn sharp for her own good. It caught him off guard, and he glanced down at her file to cover it up.
Your Beautiful Hell is a Deacon/Sole Survivor thing about soulmates who really, really don't want anything to do with all that fate bullshit. It's pretty early stages, but here's a snippet from the first chapter, their first 'meeting' through the telepathic link they share. It's not a happy scene.
TW: Deacon has PTSD-type flashbacks of his wife's death. There's mention of blood, a dead cat, and Barbara's corpse.
He closes his eyes and tries to ease the link open slowly. The overwhelming emotions from her side flood through, crashing over him. Deacon inhales deeply, letting the burn of the smoke seep through him, focuses on the feelings coming from her end of the link. Pain. Her knees where they hit hard ground, the burning on her arm, same place as his. She doesn't seem to be injured. Freezing cold. Fear, panic, confusion. A strange chemical smell. Frantic thoughts. Ohgodohgodohgod... Nate, Nate, fuck...Open, come on, open up for fuck's sake! Oh god, baby, what do I do? What do I do? You'd know, you always knew what to do. What would you do? Oh fuck, oh god, I have no idea. I — I promise, baby, I'll find him. I'll find Shaun. Oh god, I'm so sorry, baby. I can't stay here, I — The stream of consciousness comes to an abrupt halt, and he realizes she's just become aware of him. There's a moment of utter silence, and then another scream tears through the link, wordless grief and anguish and raw fury ripping through her and, by extension, him. It punches Deacon in the gut, forcing the air from his lungs, doubling him over. He sees flashes. Barbara, their little farm. Evening sunlight streaming in through the windows. Her blood pooling on the scrubbed wooden floor of their kitchen. The stray cat she'd taken in, its limp body sprawled next to hers. He struggles to draw a breath, choking on air like it's water. Her thoughts flood into his head, panicked and angry and drenched in loss and sorrow. No, I don't want this, I don't want another, I had mine already, goddamnit. I want him back, I want Nate back and our baby and — The rest dissolves into incoherent sobs and he feels her shove the link away hard. It makes him think of being pushed from the top of a skyscraper, the sensation of falling rapidly away from her and the simultaneous promise of impact as the ground rushes toward him. Deacon chokes down a ragged breath, tears streaming down his face, and collapses into the dirt. Barbara's blank, staring eyes are the last thing he sees before darkness takes him.
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eternal-armin · 2 years
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yellow.
practice didn't go quite as planned, but eddie always has your back. no matter what. reader: neutral. i have fallen way too hard for this man, i am emotionally devastated to be honest. shoutout to all the athletes that are insecure or can't do everything perfectly because you are still incredible athletes. i really hope i captured the essence of this man ;;;
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if you messed up during practice, you could usually laugh it off. with a smile, a bright smile, accompanied by a little glimmer in your eyes. it was such a beautiful expression. but the danger came when you didn't have the energy to laugh it off, when you hit your quota for the day.
you don't smile. you don't laugh it off.
admittedly, you do something far worse; you internalize it. how the hell can't you master this footwork? why can't you do four steps correctly? how have you asked three times and still don't understand it?
today... was one of those days.
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the car ride back to eddie's trailer had a stifled, one-sided conversation. eddie asked how practice was, asked if you were hungry, talked about hellfire and his band. you responded to questions with a little smile, a nod, or a word. it felt worse not to give any real responses. you felt like shit all around.
maybe the best way to describe it was that you were a guest in your own body. the kind of guest which is uncomfortable with the house, pained and almost disgusted by how bad it creaks and shifts. and the actual host despises the place more than anyone ever could.
"so! how about we get, uh, takeout? for dinner?" eddie looked at you with a smile.
it didn't feel aimed at you, but you managed to return it. "yeah, sure. whatever you'd like is good." your criticisms even bit at the quiet level of your voice, barely audible above the music eddie was playing. you picked up your bag and got out of the car, unable to keep up your smile once you looked away from eddie.
your mind was swimming with everything but good thoughts.
you knew eddie found it strange. not that you always knew what you wanted to eat, of course you didn't. but you'd been dating for months and friends since kindergarten; he could read you like an open book.
he was good at keeping his cool, though. you wished you were the same.
"i'll keep it a surprise, then, rockstar," he cooed, and you cracked a short-lived little smile. you entered the trailer first, taking off your shoes at the door and slumping your bag against the wall.
"i'm gonna... uh, lay down for a minute. kinda tired." you did your best to modulate your voice, to sound perfectly fine. of course, the moment you stepped into his trailer, you wanted to cry.
"yeah, of course. whatever you need. d'you want me to order it now? or wait a bit till you're feelin' okay?" against your better judgment, you looked up at him. your heart ached, seeing how much care and admiration was in his eyes, the eyes that were looking only at you. that bright grin meant only for you. why couldn't you return his gaze? why couldn't you return his grin anymore?
"no. no, u-uh, you can order it now. i'll probably be fine by the time it's ready."
"probably? with your super-healing? jeez, practice must've been absolutely brutal today. what the fuck are your coaches on?"
"no, it wasn't a hard practice or anything," you mumbled, rubbing the inside of your elbow. "didn't sleep well last night so i was sluggish on the court, that's all. caught a ball to the head. so is it okay if i lie down?"
eddie looked at you for just a second longer before nodding. you weren't lying about the ball-to-head incident, he could tell that much, but you weren't telling the whole truth, either.
"of course you can, bunny! i'll call in the order."
even though the nickname was a joke, you had never felt more undeserving of it. you nodded, lacking the energy for a smile, dropping your gaze and heading to his room.
if you weren't already criticizing yourself to hell and back, now you felt terrible for how you had talked with eddie. barely able to meet his eyes with a voice like a kid who scraped their knee and was trying to act tough. you were such a coward. he was your boyfriend, out of all people you should be able to talk to him. but you couldn't, as with so much else in your life.
the moment the bedroom door closed behind you, your vision blurred. you collapsed onto the bed, greeted by a comfort you adored and desired most of the time. now it just felt so weird. laying in the bed of a stranger.
the only thing worse than crying, in your opinion, was having to cry silently. because there was someone on the other side you wanted to believe that you were okay.
it was so surprisingly hard to cry silently this time around. all you could think about was everything you had failed at.
how you couldn't even master four. steps. four steps and you couldn't do it? how could you ever call yourself an athlete or even a player if four steps got the better of you? how could eddie call you his bunny if you could barely manage to jump anymore? you were as deserving of that nickname as a snail.
you allowed yourself to be flooded with these thoughts, yet another mistake on your part, letting your body rest while achingly silent tears cascaded down your temples and wet the circles under your eyes. even though it hurt not to make a sound, it felt good to cry. it was an odd incentive to continue, the weight leaving your shoulders. a good cry sometimes was healthy. but still, you loathed how much of a crybaby you were being.
it was no surprise that you heard eddie knock on the door a few minutes later to a melody you didn't remember. the gentle hum of him ordering food had been silent for a few seconds.
mustering up whatever remaining strength you could, and swallowing the lump in your throat, you responded with the best "yeah?" you could.
why did you have to be so damn sensitive? why?
"may i come in?" eddie hummed in a sing-song sort of voice. as lively as he usually sounded, you could hear the worry lacing his tone.
you were a mess right now, but there was no way in hell you could turn him away. you harshly rubbed away your tears with the butt of your hand, taking a deep breath to try and steady yourself. "yeah, of course."
he poked his head in first. it was endlessly adorable, as it was every time. his grin disappeared once he saw you- more specifically, the fact that you were crying. you didn't meet his eyes.
"you doin' okay?..." he pressed his lips together for a second. "dumb question. i can see you aren't. yeah, dumb question, dumb as hell." eddie stepped inside, crouching next to the bed, as close to you as he could get. "well, first off, no one said any bullshit to you, right?" all of a sudden concern turned to a papa bear-esque protectiveness.
he knew how to make you smile.
"no, eddie. no one said anything to me." your voice was soft and hoarse. it was a far cry from the confident, at-ease voice you usually had. you turned onto your side, now facing him, but staring at the bed instead of hazarding a glance at eddie.
"ohhh, so you said it to yourself."
even after all these years, you were still surprised when he knew.
"from your silence, i take it i'm right on the money, honey." eddie's voice became a sweet mix of compassion and comfort. he knew how it felt to be insecure over shitty stuff and excessively beat yourself up over it. and just like you had done for him, he was determined to get you out of the funk of 'failure'.
you nodded slightly. he reached out and cupped your cheek. it was a greatly confusing gesture- on one hand, it brought you a level of comfort that made you want to cry happy tears. on the other hand, why did he care to do it?
"i'm gonna be straight with you. whatever voice is telling you that you did a shit job today, isn't worth a second of your time. i don't care what you think you failed at- which is nothing, by the way, you didn't fail at anything- you still tried, didn't you?" eddie spoke with such confidence it almost rubbed off on you.
"...i did try."
"that's my [y/n]." his eyes glittered with pride, same as his smile. he ran his thumb back and forth on your cheek, slowly, and you found yourself relaxing, heart beating to the rhythm he set. "you don't need to win every time, [y/n]- and you don't need to do it perfectly every time. perfect is bullshit, shortcake- it's okay to need to practice, it's okay to walk instead of run. you've got plenty of time to get better. and you're already damn talented! whether or not you can do everything doesn't detract from that. and that is a fact. alright?"
eddie's eyes never left yours, neither did they lose their care, their admiration, their love, and- odd only to you- their pride. it amazed you that he could still be proud of you after seeing you like this.
"thank you, eddie." and still hoarseness clung to your voice, but this time it didn't drag down the warmth in it. what more could you say?
well, you had so much you wanted to say. it was more like what more could you put into words.
"i'm always here for you, bunny!" seeing you happy again made the world seem brighter and more colorful. he rocked forward to press a chipper kiss to your lips, which you returned with a smile he could feel.
"also, also, don't even think about apologizing for anything, just- by the way. no apologies for the next 48 hours." lingering just a few centimeters away, eddie could read your mind clear as day. he still found it pretty.
"i... okay, fine, i won't." you exaggerated your defeat and your huff of a sigh, sharing a quiet chuckle with eddie.
"good. so, rockstar, d'you wanna come with me to pick up the grub? or do you wanna chill here with some fluffy blankets? i'm makin' it known now, if you stay back you're on movie duty."
honestly, either way it was a win-win.
"yeah, i could choose the movie, but i wanna watch what you wanna watch." besides, you really didn't want to be alone. it would be nice to go with him.
"holy shit, well aren't you just the most precious thing ever." pink dusted your cheeks from what he said- moreso the way he said it. this time, his voice softened. eddie certainly made you feel like the most precious thing ever, with his gaze and his compliments. his grin grew ever cheekier when he noticed your cheeks. not red from exercise, not red from frustrated crying, but red because he was teasing and praising you.
it was so cute.
you rubbed your eyes again, willing away the puffiness and tears that still managed to stick around. "makes two of us."
"damn right it does." eddie planted a kiss on your forehead. "wanna head out now? we could chill for a while and listen to music if we're early."
"that sounds nice. just, uh, maybe i should change out of my practice uniform before we go.."
"whatever you want, rockstar. i'll meet you outside." he pecked your lips a few times, each accented with a 'mwah', until you were giggling again. "love you."
"love you more."
"bull-shit, rockstar. said with lovvee."
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theauthor27 · 8 months
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Welcome to space What were you expecting? It's a dangerous place Thank you for investing
Go there for your rota There for your orders Fill up these quotas We'll bill for your quarters
Report to your foreman But watch for marauders 'Cause if you get eaten There's fees for your mourners
Prosperity's there in the care of magnates In Halcyon heaven awaits!
Did you think it was supposed to Look like the poster? It mostly does Oh, if you'd only read closer
Just ten short years to a new frontier Snooze as you cruise And you'll wake up here!
You've been trapped in that ship For an awful long time So perhaps you have simply forgot what you signed
Oh, honestly? Did you not read the colony policy? That defines you as company property? That waivers your say in autonomy?
The conglomerate's got you in lock and key We put the dollar back into idolatry If you're upset, you can rent an apology We are a family forged in bureaucracy No "I" in "team, " but there's "con" in "economy"
Were you expecting adventure? Were you hoping for fun? My friend, you're indentured And pleasure's exempt from your tenure So venture back down to your slum That's provided at generous prices Your worth is determined by your sacrifices
A small term of service when down on the surface Internment's a freebie that comes with the purchase
We work To earn the right to work To earn the right to work To earn the right to work To earn the right to work To earn the right to give Ourselves the right to buy Ourselves the right to live To earn the right to die
Welcome to our little town Why don't you settle down? Here, just fill out the paperwork And you can look around
We're happy as can be Inside the valley cannery We live to pack the cans of meat And not to question where it's found
Until we end up in the ground Around the corner in the yard You know, we thought we liked the sound Of finding glory in the stars
The board has taught us to be proud Of never reaching very far So we earn what we're allowed And give it right back at the bar
The ale to cure what ails ya Zero Gee Brew, your favourite flavour So work 'til you bleed, ennobled by labour Then purchase relief from your local retailer!
If you'd rather drop dead, that's fine But you know that dropping down dead bears a fine So you do your job and I'll do mine I gotta meet a six foot deep bottom line
We make a fortune for the board By selling boredom door to door Because it's all that we deserve And it is all we can afford
The secrets of the universe And all the worlds to be explored But our dreams are back on Earth And now the work is our reward
And you'll be grateful For seats at the table Though it dips at one end And the bench is unstable
You may waste your days But at least you were able To pay off your grave Since we leased you your cradle
Be faithful and pray We'll repay what you invest Behave as you slave For humanity's interest
On account that you're all on account And we're quickly amounting Humanity's interest You'd think that we'd sink To the brink of rebellion With markets dependent On peddling weapons
The architect tells them The secret to Heaven Is simply consuming Whatever we sell them
We work To earn the right to work To earn the right to work To earn the right to work To earn the right to work To earn the right to give Ourselves the right to buy Ourselves the right to live To earn the right to die
You should have read the fine print, my friend Should have read the fine print You should have read the fine print, my friend Should have read the fine print
Welcome to our little town Why don't you settle down? Here, just fill out the paperwork And you can look around
We work and then we work And then we work and then we work And then we work and then we work And then we end up in the ground
Welcome to our little town Why don't you settle down? Here, just fill out the paperwork And you can look around You should have read the fine print, my friend Should have read the fine print
Here and here and initial here Welcome to the family!
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thewolfisawake · 7 months
Text
Agh, October was the worst. The one blackout period within the Bastion. It wasn't that Aspis didn't understand why. It was when there was so much supernatural stuff going on. Especially with the Veil getting thing around this time. But that didn't mean it wasn't a pain to be running around all month. Although he intended to meet with his friends when he could...after all, it was still the month of spooks and the high life of fall.
But at current, the hunter was trying to head for his next assignment. He could imagine someone nagging at him for putting everything so close but Aspis thought if he could get his quota for the week faster...then he might be able to chill. Or at least be a little more picky on what he wanted to do for the week.
So preoccupied, he didn't notice a body moving out until he collided with them. His hands gripped their arms to keep from falling, "Sorry!"
He had steadied them and prepared to run off again, when a hand gripped his as he heard a soft, "Like water, always in a hurry, Kai."
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Aspis bristled under that name. It wasn't the same feeling as when Jasper had called him. There was an iciness that crawled up his being at it. He looked down at the person and a gasp left him.
There before him was Ioane Kamisarizuki...his grandfather. His lolo. His wrinkles parting with a gentle smile. Like the sea salt breeze he'd long since left. So many impossible things happened in his life that Aspis didn't found it difficult to believe. Hell, even the Bastion said that it was during this time that strange things could happen. But even knowing the possibility...it had never come for him. It had never happened.
But here before him...Aspis paled. His heart hammered in his chest as it pulsated agony that radiated across his being. Nausea and revulsion surged through him. His legs felt unsteady. Despite it being something so fervent in his heart for years...fear struck the hunter so mercilessly, he recoiled as if he'd been attacked.
A step back.
"Kai, please wait," Ioane said, sensing the trepidation from the boy. His hand that had finally held hands he had been unable to watch grow personally reached out.
Another step. Another. Before Ioane could grasp again, Aspis fled. Despite the uneasiness in his limbs and the constriction in his lungs. Pain was nothing new after all. But that. That was and despite thinking he was ready...he felt anything but.
Ioane helplessly could only watch and sigh, "I hope Noelani faired better..."
--
"JASPER LEE, OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!" Noelani roared from the other side. Nathan had already backed off, finding it futile to stop her now. Although he did call, "She already full named you, you might wanna reconsider, mate."
From the other side, Jasper could only think of how much trouble she was causing. Yelling and cussing. He could only think it had to be Noelani. But there was no way. Kai himself said that they had not survived. Maybe he was wrong? Maybe he was just experiencing a long hallucination about it all? Or maybe it was a ghost. And if that was the case, he was not about to let that into his house.
"I got a 50/50 shot at actually hitting you," Jasper remarked, "maybe you'd want to reconsider."
"Are you serious? You'll shoot us?" Noelani said incredulously.
"Please don't," Nathan chided, "it'd actually put us in the hospital. C'mon Jas, what do we have to do to convince you we're here? That we're really here?"
Jasper pondered. What would they have to do? They were already here. Their voices, even Noelani's rage, brought heartache to the mercenary. He feared himself if he saw them personally. He could let his stony heart crack any further...
"...your last bid to get me to stay," Jasper said, "the last time...I ever saw you...what did you say to me?"
Nathan breathed, recalling that night of heartbreak and pleading. Truly, the last time they had ever seen Jasper. At least until now. And it was that thought that allowed him to say, "...come the rising tides, the devastating storms, even the rage of the cauldron of ash and flame, we would weather it all with you."
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...and Jasper could only regret that he could never do that for them.
The door swung open.
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idollandhero · 6 months
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How I grind in Idol Land PriPara - November 2023 edition
I want to preface this with: this is not the most EFFICIENT way to grind. The grinding method found at the beginning of the game is still the most efficient. At the time I didn't understand how it worked, just that it did work, so when I posted that guide I didn't have an explanation for why things were done. I understand how it works now but I'm not sure there's anyone left who doesn't know why it works; so I never bothered explaining.
Anyway! This may not be the most efficient way to grind, but it is the FASTEST way. This also only works now because of the boost to iine and silver we got at Halloween, before then this would have been useless.
This is also the zero ticket method to grinding.
And the method is simple enough:
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On the promise page search with these conditions. They are Pasharing, any type (you could specify a type but it would make finding promises take longer), outfit condition, and use hashtags.
When you search you may find nothing! I'm not entirely sure how the search works but I have a feeling it's not actually searching for your conditions; but instead doing a general search and only showing the ones that are under your conditions. Keep refreshing and eventually promises will show up. You could only join promises with PR and above outfits conditions because those give more points, but in my experience these promises go fast enough that I tend to join any that fall under these conditions.
In my experience I've found that these promises are filling anywhere between instantly to within a few hours. Compare that to when you're hosting your own regular promise, the more efficient way of grinding. The drawback is they take hours if not a full day to fill.
Doing the promise is the same as it was in the original ticket fast grind method. Make sure you take at least one photo of each participant, and make sure you use up your entire photo roll.
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I joined these 3 promises at 4:55pm, it took maybe 8 refreshes to find all of them. It took me 15 minutes to write this post, and now at 5:10pm one of them has already filled.
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You get somewhere in the ballpark of 2000 iine per promise, compare that to 10,000 from perfecting a live that you host. Meaning you only need to play 5 of these promises in the time your one promise would fill to meet the same quota. Plus you don't have to worry about perfecting a live and you don't use a ticket.
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I don't think this trumps the other method entirely; this method requires checking the game pretty often, and because you can wait for three promises at the same time, you'd actually need to fit 15 of these pasharing promises in the time it'd take for three of your own lives to fill.
It does however get you out of obsessing over getting three rainbows on lives because oops you missed one note again. Pasharing also goes faster then a live, so I can run through the ones I have banked, and register for three more in any downtime I have.
I hope this didn't ramble on too much and was helpful for someone 🎂
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mustangs-flames · 1 year
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how do you just.. find the right inspiration? to like.. finish smth. and how do you not just.. rush? if i make any sense with these two questions /lh
I try not to be too rigid with my approach to writing - giving yourself very strict "beginning, middle, and end" goals can kill a story before it even starts, I've found. Don't force yourself to have every little detail ready and planned out because half the fun of writing is seeing where it can take you in my opinion!
That being said, it's still useful to have what I refer to as a "Concept List". I open up a google doc or whatever and just start making bullet points of story beats I think would be cool to see play out. Don't go into it thinking "these beats have to perfectly fit this story I'm writing 100%" because that's not the point! A Concept List is to help you just think of ideas, no matter how silly, grand, big, or small they are - it doesn't matter, no idea is too ridiculous for the list: it's designed for bouncing ideas and spitballing! Then, take some time away from it - maybe a few hours to a day - and come back and read over what you have. See if there are any repeating themes or pieces that you can see yourself connecting together and make note of them. Not every idea is going to be a winner so don't think you've failed if you only come out of it with only a couple of ideas or just one idea.
When I was starting to write Its Name Was Cesar Torres, I made a Concept List of potential story ideas and returned to it later to find the idea of "an alternate tries wayyyy too hard to be human and it doesn't go great" really jumped out at me as did "Mark somehow survives the alternate in 1992". And I realised they could both work if I made the whole alternate "wanting to be a human" thing be the reason that Mark didn't die.
Then I took those ideas and made what I call a "Beat List", which is like a Concept List but only contains potential story beats that could fit the concept I'd come up with. Again, no story beat is "too silly" to be put on this list and you won't end up using all of them and that's okay! But by bouncing ideas for scenes around on a rough list like this, you can again start to piece together the themes and dynamics of characters but with more of a focus on it being for one story you're telling. Having a list like this means you can move beats around and adjust the flow/remove anything that isn't working before you commit to putting pen to paper/typing anything up. I've found it can help prevent writer's block for longer because you aren't going in completely unaware of anything you'd like to achieve through your story/characters. Again, you don't need every last story detail written down in the list, just the ideas your brain is fixated on, and when you start writing just let whatever happens happen. It's a draft, it doesn't need to be 100% perfect the first time around. Each chapter of Its Name Was Cesar Torres went through multiple redrafts - especially Ch.3 and 6 (they both took 5 drafts to get right).
Writing like this has helped me realise that even if you don't have every last detail meticulously planned out, you can still write some great scenes you never would've thought of putting on your Concept or Beat Lists if you just let yourself go with the flow of writing. Like, some scenes from INWCT that weren't planned for when I started writing were:
Mark's mental break at the end of Ch.2
The pancake scene and alt!Cesar using a branch like a baseball bat in Ch.3
The stained glass window leaving Mark with injuries that scarred in Ch.6 (the window was always going to fall in that chapter but I never planned for him to be seriously hurt by it)
So it's perfectly fine not to have everything planned and accounted for. If anything, that can help you not rush and stay inspired because you don't feel like you're ticking off a checklist or having to meet a quota. You can just go with it at your own pace and edit things when it's time to move past the first draft!
Hope this helps! :)
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popculturebuffet · 5 months
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Sam and Max Beyond Time and Space Retrospective: Chariot of the Dogs (Patreon Review for WeirdKev27)
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Hello all you happy people! We're near the end of our Sam and Max: Beyond Time and Space Retrospective. After this we only have one more chapter till ....we take a bit of a telltale break for a bit.
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Well i'll tell you terry: Kev DID try a backup plan, giving me his old PS3. But despite trying EVERYTHING possible.. I couldn't get it or it's eventual replacement when it went to PS3 heaven to connect to my internet. I mean i'ts still damn neat to have but it dosen't really solve the problem and with my computer not having a completely 100% graphics card, the reason my brother gave it to me in the first place, I'm not sure it could take playing the Devil's Playhouse.
So for now my only option is to wait for the remaster, which at the time of this writing has nothing close to a release date after a year. This dosen't mean the project's canceled: there have been work in progress pics on Skunkapes Artist Formerly Known as Twitter account
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It just means it's taking a while in the oven and i'm fine with waiting till it's ready. I'd rather have a third awesome remaster to fix things instead of a glitchy mess rushed out to meet some sort of quota.
The good news is that Kev's keeping the sam and max reviews a coming, having me review stories from the comic and cartoon in the devil's playhouse's place till said remaster happens. And given i've only scratched the surrface of both, we've got PLENTY of sam and max stockpiled till the devil's playhouse or the inevitible apocalypse. which ever is first!
So with that we have Chariot of the Dogs... which not only neatly dethrones Moai Better Blues as the most bonkers these games, and this franchise has gotten, but is also just a joy to play with a unique setup: your time traveling which means a lot of familiar locations to reuse them assets, but most redressed to fit another time period. As a result there's a lot to unpack and i'll try my best. It runs into the usual issues of there being a brick wall you can't pass, but it helps that by being fun and only hvaing one puzzle i'd call "a giant list of menus wearing a hat. " So come travel in time so time as we travel to the end of all sam and max to find out where Bosco is.
We get a really awesome playable cold open following up from the last one: Sam, Max and Flint break into Bosco's to find him after he disappeared off the face of the earth. The puzzles are mostly one way but their fun from scanning a moai to undo the lasers to bosco's home office to all the fun jokes you get as you look at things. There's also some nice easter eggs like the items he had at the end of season 1 that would've made season 1 way easier.
Inside his sanctum unsanitorium, we find what you'd expect: a plunger that gave Sam nightmares when used on a delivery man, toilet wine, toilet wine that's become vinegar, and a LOT of paper mache volcano's. A lot. A LOTTTT. Like a whole rack of ones that just weren't big enoguh. As it turns out big explosions summon THEM
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So we need to summon THEM
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Too. So we need the world's biggest baking soda volcano made the old fashioned way... with a bullet hole, a lot of toilet vinegar and a prayer. This works as THEM
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Abduct you, kicking off the spaceship
ON TH...eir spaceship, we meet bosco, whose now a cow
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Gladly but you may never get the image out of your brain
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Turns out it isn't thanks to THose guys who run the ship, but Bosco himself. THEy have a time machine, and like most time traveler's , Bosco fucked up his own personal timeline, so now we need to unfuck it.
To unfuck that time cow, we have to use the time machine, and I love the design of this one. It's a wood paneled elevator, something really neat and unique. And how it operates is also a lot of fun: it hones in on specific people in time and space. Why we'll get to in a little bit , but while there's a printer for the cards, we can't really use it so instead we use Bosco's carbon dater he somehow got from sybil, and use it to create cards by scanning a person.
So our first is Bosco's own, which leads us to his oft talked about Mom right before he was born in the 1960's. And like her son she has a habit for being mildly disturbing, in this case outright asking Sam and Max to donate as the fathers to her unborn child. Bosco's mom is a feminist, the extreme kind that hates all men and thus wants to make a child the new fashiond way: SCIENCE. But since invetro is still a decade out she made her own setup. She just needs the dna of two parents, any kind.
We end up making a problem for this plan though as she falls in love.. with MAX.
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So Bosco's back to the futuring. Luckily we got a time card from Mama Bosco that sends us to the kennedy era white house.... and to a young but identical looking agent superball.
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He can't help us much for now, but he can give us a time card to our office, and scanning ourselves gives us time cards to 80s stinkys and our future office
So we get to meet the man, the myth, the legend himself Stinky. And we see why Sam and Max love him as he's a misanthrope who creates his dishes not to feed people but to cull the weak. Yeah I can see why Max loved him so much.
Their attempts to warn Stinky of his possible death at Girl Stinky's hands fall on deaf ear.. and the one that works tells them NOTHING CAN KILL STINKY PUNY MORTAL. Which honestly giving his cooking habits, general attitude and multiple attempted culinary murders for what's been decades, yeah i'm not convinced anything short of ten nuclear bombs in a row, an orbital laser strike, thirteen hulks, the entire nation of krakoa pre fall, and dropping the MOON ITSELF on him could kill stinky.. and even THEN it's not an easy bet.
At any rate while , like most locations we can't get everything we need NOW, but we can interact with our past selves. And it's here we get the jokes in this part that REALLY don't work for me, the only ones really.
See this chapter finally fully nails the black comedy as there's no one who gets hurt, physically or emotionally, you feel all that bad for for the most part. Bosco is back to the futured but it's both because Max is an accidental sex machine and because he mucked with time in the first place for no good reason, Mama Bosco is a raging misandrist who, while understandibly tired of men hitting on her, is also mad at a whole gender and later targets will make themselves clear.
The one exception is Past Sam and Past Max, who our heroes have to get intrested in girls. Yes really. This joke's problem isn't that it's rediculous enough, our heroes CHANGING THEIR OWN PERSONAL TIMELINE for petty self gain is pretty on the mark, it's just the joke is so lazy. GET IT NERDS DON'T GET WOMEN. GET IT. YA GET IT. YA GET IT. GETTTT IT. It's a lazy joke and like the sea monkey's thing is a relic of the times it was made. It also kinda misses the fact these games have enough gay subtext between the main two to fill a scrapbook. Or that the previous version of the franchise did this
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What i'm saying is Sam and Max are married and even if I didn't ship the two of them, this joke just dosen't fit. Sam and Max tends to punch higher than this.
But like I said.. after a whole season of grousing.. and I admit sometimes it was a tad overblown as I forget THIS IS A COMEDY, it's nice to see them nail a darker tone.. while still being hilaroius. The jokes here are still pretty dark, but their back to the wackier tone of things like torturing whizzer in the oval office. Ah that was a good day.
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Oh the memories. Anyways this subplot does have ONE thing going for it as the game Max is playing is Bluster Blaster. And that would be enough, seeing Bluster before our heroes give him a future ai set to grouchy.. which I was farwarned for by the guide i'd need to do. Which is good because it gave me the best runner of both games so far, a joke I just.. never got tired of. Anytime you alter the timeline the computer says "Timeline Altered, Jackass". It's funny every damn time, especially since 80% of your timeline alterations are screwing someone else over.
That's not the big takeaway.. no the big one is that Sam CREATED Bluster Blaster. And he didn't forget, to quoth the doggo himself "It just never seemed important." It's the best joke of the episode... just.. deciding that sam just never brought up he had an arcade cabinet son. And it's entirely in character for him to have just.. forgotten that.
Anyways onto our offices. The present one has Superball present in the present. He's guarding the trophy closet as suprisingly Max's disappearnce was actually looked into as the president instead of as seen as divine intervention before he destroys us all. We also find out Superball.. is still a shady guy as he gladly mindwipes us if we mention time travel.. despite being in the middle of something important. I'm hoping this pays off... I mean it does in this episode but i'm wondering what the hell.
Our final timeline, for now, is the future! Girl Stinky has become a paste magnet, the flying cars are finally here and sam.. is not doing so good. This is sad... and unlike previous dark bits, while they do JOKE about it, it's clear there's a hint of tragedy to what's going on. Sam.. has dimentia. THat's it. He has it, Max is taking care of him while wearing a geordi laforge visor. While it's clearly after a lifetime of adventure.. it's still pretty sad to see Sam like this.. evne if him wearing the cat's suit from red dwarf while his wheelchair is half a dalek, as of course max is the only thing in the universe that can kill a dalek easily, helps suck the pain out.. as does a brilliant gag where checking your trophy closet , since you can't check yours in the present, finds it just.. crammed full. Great
So now all the pieces are in order a LOT has to be done. Some of it later, some of it now. The shortest explination is you use Past Sam's screwdriver to steal a saucy letter from president kennedy. I love how Sam asking Max to distract stinky.. has max just tell him sam is stealing. And stinky.. still does nothing. We use that to suprise agent superball, get his dna and get president kennedy's. We use that to create bosco, Max is a sex monster now so mama bosco decides to make a kid, timeline restored... jackass.
Now we have a new issue though: THE...Y want to see us and we get the grand reveal that THEM
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Are the mariachis. Yes the random ones that show up any time someone says birthday... are the kidnappers.
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It's.. it's both. It's both hilaroius.. and a great payoff. Sadly I knew going in.. but I didn't know WHY they were doing this, or that they still had a UFO for it. As they explain in song, Pedro was an elderly mariachi from the future, the timeline we saw, and with the art nearly extinct he decided to assemble two younger versions of himself to form a marachi band to sing for people's birthdays whenever the word birthday is spoken. It's gloriously dumb and I love it.
We also find out how the moai an djurgen kidnappings and the mysterious triangle figure in: Turns out UFO's that have a time machine in them are expensive, so to pay for it the Pedros are working for a mysterious big bad to give them souls. They send them through the triangle after having the moais, who they built, crush the people then shrink their souls.. or in bosco's case just the soul part as he dies of fright.
So we need to Save Bosco and since talking to the three Moai only makes Bosco's soul go into the hole faster, we need to go with plan b: get the Marachi's to quit.
Thankfully Pedro, while you know, doing some murders, including Jurgen whose sadly not in this episode for wrong, is a nice and resonable guy: his backstory is sadly relatable, and he's genuinely only doing this because it's the only job he has and HATES doing it.. and agrees to quit if the guys can answer two questions for him: how does he dies and which came first, the chicken or the egg? Which given we've had an egg for some time we got from ourselves, I at least knew which thing woul dlikely solve it
We also have to get rid of the other two pedro's too. Luckily the one steering the ship wants to go solo and the other one is busy listening for birthdays, so ther'es easy ways to take care of them both. Well... easy for Sam and Max. In any other situation solving these four problems would be nigh imppossible. Thankfully this universe runs on nonsense.
So the first task is the easiest: get Perdo's death notice. Future Sam and Max have it on the board so jus go grab that, show Pedro and he agrees not to go near the printer anymore. This allows us to, and actually explains the ink ribbon from last episode: Max chucked it into the time stream.
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So with that we can print our own time card.... a BLANK one. This takes us to THE START OF TIME ITSELF.
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Where we find what you'd expect: a black void of nothingness, a small baby universe about to explode, mr. featherly.
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Yeah the Marachis chucked him to the start of time after kidnapping him during the filming of Midtown Cowboys The Movie. I don't know and I don't care as my boy is here and we need to take him with us. Problem is Mr. F is now the SOURCE OF ALL LIFE ON EARTH. So while the elevator will let us gleefully destroy history all the live long day, destroying EXISTANCE is a hard no.
So we simply leave the egg there instead and take Mr. F back in our inventory as a new item. He's not pleased. I however am delighted and showing him off gets Pedro to quit
Next is the youngest pedro and while the HOW is a bit obtuse, it's great: we simply use the calender from WAY back in episode 4 of the last game to change the date to the 9th, superball's birthday. Getting this.. requires a lot of talking and is obtuse as heck. It's why strategy guides exist. But the payoff is great as it summons the marachi.. and we just.. leave him there. In the Kennedy Whitehouse. Forever. That sure happened.
So with that we just have one last task to get to the end of this chapter and it's one of the funnest. Turns out the Marachi's next target is the soda poppers
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Yup. Thankfully their only in it for a minute..t his time as we go back to embarassing idol. We also don't hear Peepers sing so 10/10 chapter. We go back to get the recording contract from us, explaning what happened to that. Our past selves still need it though and upon hearing the words time machine steal it. I love this gag.. esepcailly since sam and max then have to relive the entreity of chapters 3-6 of save the world AND this game up to this point. I love it so much. I also love how when trying to question past sam and past max... past sam asks the questions instead.
To get our more annoying past selves to actually coperate we send them back to superball, who blanks their memories, allowing us to steal the contract in exchage for a screwdriver. We give it to pedro, he books it and now we can go savvvvveeee bosco's soullll.
Problem is not only does soul go down the hollleee.. but the self detruct activates. The marachis somehow appear in the time machine and use it to go do all the apperances we've seen this season, leaving us stuck. Thankfully using some goey cake from stinky's that we stole the copyright to, long subplot I genuinely forget that' snicely fucked up, we can stop the gears of time themselves, giving us time to put bosco on the platform before escaping into a hole. Sadly the Moai don't make it so I guess we stil lhaven't broken our streak of ruining one mostly innocent person's life a chapter, but it dosen't matter as anywhere's better than here.. and if not they'll see us in hell
Next Time: We wrap up beyond time and space as that's literal! Our heroes must face the most insideious, nightmarish, horrifying force they've ever encountered one last time to save Bosco's soul, and the world.. again. Thanks for reading
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