postwicking

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damn yall will really just take someone politely saying something and make it sound like they personally came into your home and threatened your life huh.

you can’t ask glenn to take her issues to the mods when there seems to be an environment where you cannot say anything negative or feel like you’re going to be punished somehow for saying something (which, judging by what i’ve seen on twitter, seems to be the case.)

i understand that no one wants their fun disrupted, but you can’t just shit on someone because they have a dissenting opinion about something you like. she was polite. she mentioned several times that she was just sharing her opinion and reasons why she didn’t feel comfortable roleplaying here any more. she didn’t even say anything rudely, just offered advice on how to better the community that she previously had a good time in before she left it. someone with bad intentions wouldn’t offer something like that, they’d either say nothing or something really passive aggressive (or aggressive aggressive, in some cases).

if the mods can’t take criticism, then that’s on them.

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Wooloo is gonna stab youloo

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Hop and Wooloo

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Eternatus

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dynadubwool​:

“………………………………………….”

“Y-Yeah, yer right!” No, his voice isn’t cracking. You don’t see his tears, either, Lee. You definitely feel his crushing hug, though! “I-It’ll be like old times! S’not the end o’ the world…”

“That’s the spirit!” Leon says, albeit a little choked up from how hard Hop is hugging him. He gives Hop a few pats on the back, big and thumpy. “Now c’mon, how’s about we go get some ice cream t’ cheer ya up, eh? My treat!”

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dynadubwool​:

“L-Leeee…!”

“Aw, Hoppip.” He hugs his brother tightly in a big Bewear hug. “It’ll be alright. I mean... ‘least y’know he can still be an Inteleon again, right?” Though it has to be a shock for both Trainer and Pokemon to go from being fully evolved to being a baby again.

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“Karma’s back t’bein’ a Sobble? That ain’t right...”

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Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

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im goknba

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someone: don’t me: ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

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Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers

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Karen M. McManus, One Of Us Is Lying

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Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

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@crowned-sword​ liked for a starter!

Leon had looked forward to the day when he would be able to have a proper fight, enjoy a battle with a worthy challenger whose potential rivaled his own. Sure, battling Raihan had it’s charms ( he tended to make such silly expressions in the heat of battle ) but Leon had wanted something fresh. Something exciting. Something to prove that Galar’s young trainers were the best in the world.

Too bad Chairman Rose had to interrupt the Championship Cup the way he had.

Leon finds himself reminiscing about that day, leaning against a tree trunk in one of the city’s parks. Charmander is laying lazily on his shoulder, snoring softly, and Leon scratches his partner’s chin absentmindedly. He had so been looking forward to that match that it was almost all consuming. He hadn’t felt so alive in such a long time. And to think that it would be Hop’s friend that reignited his spirit? It seemed almost like fate.

And almost as if fate has something new in store for him, he spots someone familiar walking by. There was no way this could be happening. Had he not only failed to protect Hop, but his brother’s best friend and rival too?

What a lousy Champion he was turning out to be!

Making sure Charmander is balanced well enough, Leon hurries over. He’s not sure what he’s going to say -- should he apologize? Should he act as if nothing is wrong, even if things are, in fact, quite wrong? -- but manages a, “Victor! That you, kid?” It’ll have to do; there’s a lot Leon wants to say, but he just doesn’t have a way to articulate it for now.

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dynadubwool​:

Hop jumps upon hearing the creaking and subconsciously scoots closer to his brother. He nods in acknowledgement, shoving down the urge to pap his cheeks as well; nobody likes a copycat. He’s a bit irritated that Lee would motion for him to be quiet - he knows he should be quiet, he’s not an idiot - but keeps his mouth shut and follows (always following, even now he can’t seem to do anything on his own) across the room and through what looks like a staff hallway.

The door is closed and blocked courtesy of Lee, and the two are now doing an odd half-jog down the hall. Hop doesn’t answer the thanks, instead looking down to avoid stepping on the supplies that Lee so carelessly crushes underneath him.

At least he wasn’t crushing Hop.

He moves a hand to rub uncomfortably against the front of his neck, trying to clear his throat as quietly as possible. Let’s get off that topic, thanks brain. He and Lee are working together, this is a different Lee, they’re not in the Weald. Felt Jr. bleats softly, and Hop pets it distractedly. He opens his mouth to respond to Lee - yes he was there, he didn’t remember all the details, of course Lee got lost - but promptly shuts it again once Lee changes topics. What’s the point of asking if he was just going to change subjects?

‘I saw somethin’ today that made me think of ya’ great, ‘and how rubbish of a brother I’ve—’ Lee cuts himself off; whether he changed his mind or because of the reason they’ve stopped, Hop doesn’t know, but his stomach churns nonetheless. It’s not Lee’s fault; none of this is. Whatever Lee thinks he’s done, it has to be a misunderstanding. The problem was never Lee, just… Hop. It’s always been Hop.

It’s not until his brother emerges from a door Hop hadn’t noticed (once again he comes up short. He can’t help himself, can he?) that he realizes he’s been stuck in his thoughts. He nods again, slinking into… into…

He feels ill. “Wait, Lee— Lee wait a sec—” a quivering hand pulls at his brother’s arm. Not here, why’d it have to be here? “Can we— why— I—” Can’t we go somewhere else? It’s stupid and selfish and could just land them into more trouble, he knows, but this place, this situation… it’s too close to his challenge, too close to what happened in the Weald. Maybe if they’re quick, they can…

No, no matter how scared he is, he can’t bother Lee like this; he has enough things to worry about without Hop whining like a child.

“What’s after us?” He asks instead, setting his sewn Wooloo down onto his collar. “If y’know what it is, we can— we might be able to counter it?” Hop cringes internally; does he sound mad? He’s talking like he would a Pokemon battle. “Like, uh, I saw— I saw one get put back into its frame. They’re notta hundred percent invincible, so maybe if we find somethin’ that counters it ‘round here, it’ll,” he gestures vaguely a few times before making an x with his hands, “yanno…”

He slips past his brother in embarrassment and into the foliage, already doing a great job of hiding himself thanks to his height and choice of clothing and his wanting to disappear from whatever that explanation was supposed to be. “A-Anyways, what’s all that’s after us?”

The panic in Hop’s voice when Leon motions for him to join him in the overgrowth is obvious enough for even someone as oblivious as Leon is to notice. He peers over Hop’s head to see if there’s another way they can go, somewhere else that they can hide from... himself, but this is the only way they can go, it seems. He bites his cheek as Hop pushes past him; whatever has got him worried seems serious enough that he doesn’t seem to want to burden Leon with the knowledge of it, and Leon finds himself wishing that he’d had been there for Hop when he had little problems so he could feel like he could trust him with the big problems.

“We might be able to counter it.”

Finally, some good news. Leon follows Hop into the brush, paying no mind to how awkwardly he tries to explain how they could possibly fight back against this thing. He crouches low under some ferns as Hop asks what it is that’s after them, and he winces. He looks over his shoulder from whence they came. He’s not counting on the barricaded door to the staff hall to hold for long, so this moment of respite the two of them have may be shorter than he’d like. If he was going to say anything to Hop before they had to be quiet and hide from the statue of himself, now would be the time.

“Uh... about that. It... it looks like me?” he manages after a moment, turning back to Hop. “’Cept it’s made o’ marble.” Though you wouldn’t know from how it moved, surprisingly fluid in motion for a hunk of stone. He doesn’t mention the lifelessness in it’s eyes. “It seemed like it was... seekin’ me out, yanno? Like it was lookin’ fer me fer... some reason.” A sudden realization hits him and he has to stop himself from conking himself on the forehead; he lead the stupid thing right to Hop! Hop was fine, hiding in that gallery, until Leon had to drag him into yet another one of his messes!

Arceus, if there’s a way to kill this thing like Hop says there is, he’s gotta find it. And fast.

“Ya said someone stuck a painting back in it’s frame?” he says, once again looking over his shoulder. He could’ve sworn he heard the telltale sound of those marble footsteps, but... “So then... what about a chisel?” Leon sits up enough to peer over the plants around them, eyes scanning the more open areas where tools might still be laying around. What were the chances of finding a chisel in a greenhouse though? “Hm, maybe a hammer instead? Ya gotta use both t’ make a statue, right?”

It’s then he spots a small shed, tucked neatly amongst a row of shrubs. It’s some distance away, and he’d have to cross an open area to get to it, but if he’s quick...

Leon turns to Hop and puts his hands on his shoulders. “Hop, I’m gonna try ‘n get to th’ shed over there.” He gestures to the shed with a nod of his head. “I need you t’ stay here, alright? Don’t move ‘til I get back. I won’t be long.” Before Hop can say anything, Leon is on the move, slinking towards the shed, his cape rustling the plants behind him with quiet swishing noises.

Arceus, he hopes that sound he heard earlier was just his imagination.

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hop love squad……………… assemble.

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dawnbreaks​:

@postwicking​ liked for a starter!

‘I suppose I’ll just have to avoid anything that could rile me up until I get it back, as a precaution.’ That’s what he had said to his brother when they realized his Dragonstone had been taken. Kamui came up with a simple plan: step one, avoid as many stressors as possible. Step two, wait until he can get his Dragonstone back. Step three, hope he doesn’t hurt anybody if he does happen to transform.

It’s barely been a day, and he has already failed step one.

He’s not ven sure how the collision happened; one moment he’s taking a lovely stroll by a river and the next he’s being knocked into said river. Kamui reaches out and grabs the stranger’s arm on reflex, bringing his assailant(…?) down with him into the water.

The prince jerks away just before he’s squashed and turns towards the stranger, unsheathing his sword out of habit (it may be wooden, but even a wooden weapon can be dangerous if you know how to properly use it). Water laps around his knees as he eyes the young man warily.

“For an assassin, you’re quite clumsy. Who sent you?”

On a list of things that Leon had planned for the day -- which, for the record, was a rather full itinerary of things like ‘sleeping in’ and ‘trying local cuisine’ and ‘burning calories off with a swim’ -- attempting to avoid a swarm of bees was not one of them.

Sure, the bees in Galar were much bigger, but back home he had a rather large and imposing Fire-type next to him at virtually all times. They also didn’t usually show up in such large numbers; it had vaguely crossed his mind that running may only irritate them more, but he was too averse to the idea of getting stung to stop and stand still. He also didn’t plan to body check someone into a river in his attempt to escape the bees. But life was full of little surprises, wasn’t it?

Particularly when said someone yanks him into the river and then pulls a sword on him.

Assassin? “Mate, if I wanted t’kill ya, I would’ve landed on top of ya instead o’ over here,” he says, pulling himself to a standing position. The task is made more difficult by his cape, now soaked straight through and weighing what feels like twenty stone more than usual. He looks around for the anticipated swarm of bees, ready to strike now that he’s off his guard, but Leon’s surprised to find that they’ve dispersed. Perhaps they’ve left his fate in the hands of this sword wielder. ( If he’s honest, he’s take the bee stings over the sword any day. )

“No one, uh, ‘sent me’,” he adds, making quotes with his fingers. “Unless ya count the bees. But I dunno if bees usually make people push folks into th’ river.” He moves from having his fingers air quoting to just holding them up passively; he was, after all, at the wrong end of a sword. “I hope I didn’t hurt ya or anythin’; we kinda crashed into the water pretty hard, yeah?”