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masterjedilenawrites · 5 months

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Take Me Out

Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024

Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words

Content: drinking, light angst, introspection, fluff, light humor, crushes, relationships, friendship, mentions of war and death, weapons (practice setting)

Prompts: "What am I even looking for?" - "I don't know" & "Sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

My gift is for the event host - @ghostofskywalker! I was so excited to draw your name and I really hope you enjoy the fic. You put so much work and care into hosting these events for the fandom, it really is appreciated 🤗

I've actually had this story concept in mind for quite a while. I love that pretty much all of your prompts/wish-list items were able to fit in! We've got some platonic Hunter, romantic Crosshair, a little angst, a bit of fluff... Perfect!

Oh, and to keep things spoiler free (on my blog and for the event), this takes place before Order 66 and Omega.

Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (4/13/24). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Winter.

You sat slumped over the bar, a drink cradled in your arms. You took lazy sips at the liquid, long past its effervescence, in between chewing on the straw. You could smell the evidence of your waning hygiene, being curled in on yourself like this. It disgusted you but not enough to do anything beyond self loathing. To say you were miserable was an understatement.

"Morning, Captain. A bit early for a drink, isn't it?"

The husky voice of the bar's newcomer was unmistakeable in who it belonged to. There were clones abound on this small moon, hundreds of identical-sounding men. But every once in a while you had the pleasure of hearing the one that was different.

You sluggishly swiveled your head and gave Sergeant Hunter a mock salute. He leaned against the bar beside you, seemingly torn between being amused and concerned by what he was seeing.

"Back so soon?" you asked, ignoring his own question. Though your speech wasn't slurred, your voice still betrayed some of the numbness you were working to surround yourself in. Which helped your friend make up his mind on how to feel.

"Easy mission," Hunter shrugged off the topic. "You okay? Did something happen?"

"No," you sighed and forced yourself to sit upright. Best to appear more in control and not give him reason to drag you to the med bay. "That's the problem. Nothing's happened."

Hunter frowned and slid onto the barstool next to you. You caught a whiff of soap as he did, a harsh contrast to your own odor that made you even more upset.

"I don't understand."

Your hands cupped around your glass, condensation pooling around your fingers, and you stared at the melting ice wishing to be as frozen and unfeeling.

"I don't understand, either," you whispered. "Why I'm still so... alone."

"Ah." Hunter placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "That's right, you had that date you were going on. Another dud, then?"

You nodded, still refusing to look away from the ice cubes.

He hummed in thought. Your poor friend. How many times had he now had to come up with some sort of reassuring comment after another one of your failed attempts to find love? At least you were grateful you had such a friend, though. Where others would have made you feel guilty for admitting to loneliness, would have insisted they were company enough and all you had to do was ask for it, it's as simple as that, how dare you feel lonely when you aren't actually alone... Hunter was the one who always saw through to what you really meant. You were not what the other wanted, but you were both wanting, craving that kind of deep, romantic connection that seemed to allude you both. For Hunter, it was obviously his schedule that got in his way. For you... well, that was the mystery.

"You have to keep looking," was the sentiment Hunter settled on this time. He rubbed at your shoulder a bit, as if trying to smooth out your misery.

You huffed. His attempts to comfort were sweet, but not enough. You couldn't help but protest. "But with everyone I meet, I just find out what I don't want. What am I even looking for?"

"I don't know," Hunter shook his head sadly. "I don't know if anyone knows until they find it."

You groaned and slumped back forward, facepalming the bar top and wishing you could sink right into it. Sink down, down, down until you disappeared completely.

"Sorry, Cap," Hunter's now muffled voice attempted to chuckle, lighten the mood. "If I could track down your soul mate, I would. You know I would."

That comment was sweet enough. You forced yourself to stop sinking, lift yourself up again, and face your friend properly.

"I know. And I appreciate that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bummer today. It's just... it's been getting harder, is all."

He nodded and you nodded back and nothing further needed to be understood on the matter.

"Were you needing something from me?" you changed the subject. "Or did you come to day drink as well?"

"Ha, ha." Hunter started to get up. "Yeah no, I just wanted to let you know we were back for a few rotations, see if you'd have some time to finally come out and meet the boys."

You lifted up your glass and shook it a bit. "You're too late, I'm afraid. If I'd known you'd be back so soon, I wouldn't have started on this journey of self destruction."

Hunter titled his head at you, some of that trademark concern still showing. "This isn't going to be an all week thing, is it?"

You shrugged. Truthfully, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Making decisions even a day in advance seemed like too big of a commitment in your fragile state.

"I'd rather not meet any more new people right now, if it's all the same to you."

"I wouldn't consider them new. You've heard enough stories about each other by now. It's starting to get weird that you're not meeting, quite frankly."

You wanted to laugh, but the thought of introductions, stiff pleasantries, awkward small talk... It reminded you of every first date that never turned into a second, every dating app chat thread that went nowhere, every high hope you watched turn into disappointment. Even with a group like Hunter's brothers, the Bad Batch, with a reputation of being unconventional, who you'd only be making friends with just like you had with Hunter and every other clone on this moon... it was still too much for you to stomach.

"Sorry, maybe next time."

Hunter frowned, but he didn't overstep. "Suit yourself. Door's still open though. You know where to find us."

He made to walk out but paused to turn back to you for a moment.

"And hey, don't lose hope. We'll find our people soon enough. In the meantime, take care of yourself, alright?"

You waited until the bar doors closed behind him to let your tears fall.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.

You were here. Finally.

You weren't able to pinpoint exactly where the turning point occurred, between crying yourself to sleep every night and being able to wake up with a smile on your face. A small one, of course, but a smile nonetheless. You weren't even sure it was something that had happened overnight. Slowly, eventually, the frost over your heart melted, the shadows in your thoughts grew thinner and lighter. Without even realizing you were drawing back the curtains and dusting off the shelves and each day being a little more open than you were the day before.

Your loneliness still existed. It came and went in waves, so while still devastating at times, you were at least afforded with periods of relief. Periods where you could smile again, find fulfillment in your work, and even dare to allow yourself to dream again. And not to mention taking more regular showers. It was always the little things that made the biggest difference, wasn't it?

And now here you were, standing in the early morning sun out in one of the training fields, the Havoc Marauder silhouetted against the sunrise as you shook hands with its crew in a meeting long overdue.

Hunter's stories had done the boys justice. Wrecker was just as larger than life as you'd pictured, aptly choosing to push past your outstretched hand and go in for a bone-crushing hug instead. Tech, who you'd come to know as the brains of the batch, only spared a second to be properly introduced before returning to fidget with some gadget. Echo was all politeness and disciplined respect, with his scomp-salute and ma'ams. And Crosshair... well, he was still on the ship asleep, which you supposed fit with the few facts you knew about him, too.

Hunter beamed beside them, clearly happy you had finally made the effort to meet his squad. His family, really. As a Captain overseeing drill training for the GAR, you knew better than anyone the close bonds these clones formed even before they stepped foot on a battlefield. This meant a lot to him, you being here. You felt awful for postponing so many times.

Once introductions were out of the way, and some pleasant conversation had passed, you eventually ventured out to the part of the training field that actually housed elements for training - your excuse for coming out here to meet everyone. A munitions crate full of shiny new blasters was carried between you and Wrecker while Hunter ran ahead to set up some targets. Tech and Echo went back to the ship to work on repairs.

"Aaaaugh. Only blasters?" Wrecker lamented upon opening the crate.

"Sorry, more budget cuts. This was all I could scrounge up for you guys."

Hunter was much more excited by the new weapons, though Wrecker still picked one up to try out. You held one as well but only used it to demonstrate different techniques. Just because you were good at training didn't mean you were the best at actually fighting.

The three of you picked off the various bottles, pots, and pans that Hunter had set up amongst the tree branches at the edge of the field for a short while. And on more than one occasion you found yourself pausing to breathe in the air and remind yourself that life was good. Maybe not how you wanted it, but it was still good and you'd need to continue to work on appreciating what you had.

After about an hour, there were only three bottles and a pan left, all proving tricky targets due to distance and angle. Hunter had even tried slinging a few knives to no avail.

"Okay I'm calling it," Wrecker announced with a huff. "One more missed shot and I'm blowing them up."

"I'll take that bet."

A new voice, one you'd never heard before, carried across the field. It was delicate and drawling and confident. Hunter chuckled and Wrecker rolled his eyes. And you... you had no idea that everything was about to change.

It was like he was moving in slow motion. Your surroundings blurred as the lanky figure caught the corner of your eye, your heart rate slowing as you turned and took him in. One confident step planted firmly in front of the other as he inched across the field. A sniper rifle perched on his shoulder. A toothpick between pursed lips. An eye surrounded by a reticle and narrowed in determination. He didn't even spare you a glance, and thank the gods, because if he had, you were sure your heart would've stopped beating altogether.

He squared off as soon as he reached the marks, bringing his rile forward to aim in a swift and careful motion. His head rested against the shaft, his tattooed eye squinted through the scope. You imagined him taking this stance a thousand times in his short life. It looked as natural a position as curling up on a couch might look for you.

You couldn't look away, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever this mesmerizing man was about to do. He was still for a moment, impressively so. You realized you were holding your breath as you watched, not wanting even your exhale to interfere with his process.

And then he fired. Once, twice, threefourfive times. Bang, bang, bang. Each in a different direction but no less precise than the one before. The first ricocheted off the pan and hit the green bottle, just as the second hit the red bottle. The three-shot volley was aimed at the branch the bottles sat on, causing it to crack and dangle even closer to the ground. And just when you thought the show couldn't be more over the top, the sniper swiveled his rifle toward the sky at a passing bird, clipped its wing with a shot, and then whipped out a pistol from his hip and fired at the remaining blue bottle just before the branch snapped and fell to the ground.

A few seconds later, the bird tumbled on top of the pile of shattered glass and splintered wood.

"Aaaand training is now over," said Hunter with a nod of his head. He raised his voice as he called out to his brother. "You'd better clean that shit up!"

The sniper flipped him the bird before sauntering off to clean up.

"Uh, you alright?"

Hunter paused in his own packing of gear to give you a concerned look. You were still staring after the newcomer, undoubtedly the lone Batcher you had yet to meet. Crosshair. Your brain had short-circuited with what you had witnessed him do, yes. But it was more than that. There was something about him. Something intriguing and attractive. Different than anyone you had ever known, and yet, somehow feeling so real and comfortable at the same time.

After a few waves of your friend's hand in your face, you snapped back.

"That," you breathed.

Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That is what I'm looking for."

* * *

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Summer.

You were insanely busy. Separatist activity was ramping up in almost every corner of the galaxy and the GAR was responding to each new threat with full force. Rotations of new clone units were frequently arriving at the facility, one after another. You'd cycle them through a few trainings to get them certified on whatever was needed and then ship them right back out. And in between were all the additional tasks that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork and coordinating schedules and ship inspections and updated security debriefings.

And yet through it all, you still had time to entertain the one thought that buzzed in the background of your mind: Crosshair. Every meeting, every meal, every training sim, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was there. Crosshair, Crosshair, Crosshair. On your mind, in your heart, driving you absolutely mad.

In the beginning you'd pretended it wasn't about him, specifically. You were simply happy to know what you wanted now, that you had a type and it existed. That was all. Hunter had turned up his nose, completely bewildered as to why that would be your type. You hadn't been able to give him much at the time; it would take you many rotations more to start describing the details of your newly discovered attraction.

But over time, it became harder to push aside the nagging thought that you hadn't found what you were looking for, but rather who. Specifically. Exactly. Why try to find someone like him when you already liked... him?

Oh there were plenty of ways you could answer that question, all of them self-deprecating and none of them productive. You could count on one hand now the number of times you had been in the same room as him, let alone interacted with him. The Batch may be frequenting the place more often as the war picked up, but not nearly as often as you needed to gauge whether someone like Crosshair would, could, or honestly even should be as interested in you as you were in him.

Today they were back on the grounds so Hunter could fill out some paperwork, and your heart had not stopped racing all morning. It was practically threatening to punch right out of your chest and run away. You weren't sure why, considering you'd probably only end up seeing Hunter this time. The rest of the Batch usually didn't venture into the facility unless they were staying overnight. But it seemed even knowing Crosshair was on the same planet as you got you worked up these days.

You carried Hunter's stack of paperwork with you now, intending to drop it off to him in between some meetings you had. As you hustled down the halls, you rehearsed a few ways you could subtly ask him how Crosshair was doing.

But as it turned out, you would have the opportunity to ask him yourself. If you could get over your frazzled shock at finding him in the rec room instead of Hunter.

The room was conveniently empty, making the silence between you that much more potent. Crosshair was standing awkwardly to the side, just behind one of the battered sofas, as if he had already been confused about what he should be doing before you pushed through the door. He stared at you and you stared at him and the moment only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.

"Oh, um. Hi. Crosshair." You averted your gaze, despite having prayed the past several nights that you could see his face again soon. "I was... expecting Hunter."

That didn't sound right. You hoped he didn't take that to mean that you'd prefer if Hunter was here now. Obviously you didn't.

"He stepped out," Crosshair responded in that cool, even tone of his. Your eyes couldn't help but snap back to his as he talked. You wanted him to say more but he never did.

"Oh, okay. I just had some paperwork to give him."

Crosshair only hummed at first. You shuffled your feet a bit, debating whether you should make an attempt at small talk, try to coax more out of him, maybe even hint that you were interested in him. The thought terrified you, but not as much as the thought of being alone. You couldn't complain about that if you continued to let these opportunities pass by without at least trying to make a connection.

You shifted your weight again, intending to keep your feet planted so you wouldn't make a run for it, and Crosshair uttered your name hurriedly.

"Wait," he said. He'd thought you were leaving. You widened your eyes at him, waiting to hear what he'd wanted to tell you first. He seemed to hesitate before finally saying, "I was wondering if you knew what soup they were serving today?"

"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."

"How boring."

You smirked. "I know, right? They could at least serve it with some hot sauce."

Crosshair hummed.

The silence settled back in, though now you felt better about things. You'd practically had a conversation. Learned a little more about each other. It was a good start.

Your commlink suddenly beeped at your side and you blanched, remembering the meeting you were supposed to be heading to.

"I uh, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you."

It pained you to cut off your moment with him so quickly, but alas you were left with no choice. You shuffled back out into the corridor, though you only made it a few steps before realizing you still had Hunter's paperwork and could just leave it with Crosshair.

The rec room had an old school door that swung in and out on hinges. It was slightly ajar from when you passed through, and already in the few seconds since something was happening on the other side of it. You could hear more voices.

"...the kriff was that?" First, the deep tones of Hunter, equal parts annoyed and weary.

"That wasn't the plan." Then, the resolute voice of Echo, backing him up.

"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.

"You were supposed to ask her out," Hunter clarified.

"No, that was not the plan," Crosshair countered. "I needed to lay some groundwork first."

"You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup."

"And she agreed. No one ever agrees with me on the soup around here."

"What a special connection," Echo said.

Hunter sighed so hard you swore you could feel the breeze through the doorway. "You know, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"What?"

"Never mind. Do what you like. Keep pushing away anyone who tries to love you and see where that gets you. Just know that it's exhausting, watching the two of you dance around each other like this."

"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.

You were against the wall by the door, holding in your breath for so long you were about to pass out. Or maybe it was the euphoria of knowing Crosshair was interested that made your head sway. Regardless, you had mere moments to make a move or let the opportunity pass. You dug into your pocket, fished out a pen, and scribbled a note on the top page of paperwork. Was it professional? Absolutely not. But the GAR would get over it. You left the papers by the door, making sure your note was turned to face it.

There's better soups on Coruscant. Let's go out sometime.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.

You were alone, standing in the middle of the training field, the early setting sun behind you casting a dim shadow across the remains of your latest training exercise. A chill was just starting to set in, causing you to tug at your jacket and pull it around you a bit tighter. You liked these moments, rare as they were recently. A quiet time to yourself. Not even to think, but simply to be. Present and comfortable. And you.

The wind picked up and sang through the taller blades of grass as a ship approached for landing. Your moment was over, but a new happiness settled in its place. Minutes later, the Havoc Marauder was opening its hatch and spitting out its soldiers.

"Captain," Hunter gave you a two-finger salute as he passed by.

"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.

Echo was close behind, giving you a respectful nod. Wrecker hauled a munitions crate in one hand and hit you up for a high five with the other. Tech was oblivious as he hunched over a data pad.

They filed by, one after the other, headed straight for the barracks, and what you hoped were the showers. They all knew not to linger, that you'd catch up with them later. This was your time with Crosshair.

The sniper was leaning up against the hatch opening, arms folded across a plastoid chest and a toothpick lazily perched between slightly curled lips. He took you in for a moment and you could feel yourself glowing in response to his soft gaze.

"Showing those clankers who's boss, I see," he said as he made his way down the gangway. He nodded his head toward the mess of scrap metal behind you.

You gave a half shrug. "My reaction time is getting better, but I still can't get the angles right with those pucks."

Crosshair inched up to you, gently resting his hands on either side of your waist. "Have you been doing the breathing exercises like I showed you?"

You nodded. Your hands instinctually came up to his run along his arms until they found the crook of his elbows, the only place not barring your touch by armor.

"And using the laser sight?"

You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.

"I want to be good without it. Like you." You added a little extra honey to your words so he wouldn't reprimand you too much. It had been an adjustment for the two of you at first, he stepping into a training role and you stepping back to receive instruction for once. Thankfully the frustrations seemed to diminish the more your relationship progressed.

"You have to be patient," he said, giving your waist a slight squeeze to accentuate his point. "You aren't like the regs you train. You're building your skills, taking care of yourself."

You hummed, more in thought than agreement. "Will I ever have to use these skills someday, do you think? Is it really getting that bad out there?"

You tried not to think about how many soldiers you had trained only to be sent to a battlefield to die. How many of the shinies you were drilling right now would likely be killed soon. How many more would be brought in to take their place. You'd thought you'd known what you were getting yourself into with this job. But the relentless cycle of it all was getting to you more and more, especially as the Republic continued to be challenged in larger scales and higher stakes. It never seemed to end.

"It's hard to say," Crosshair responded. "We have to prepare for the worst."

You hated that answer, but you wouldn't let him see it. Not yet. Your fears and your displeasures, anger and sorrow, were things yet to be fully explored in this new relationship. All in due time. So you simply smiled, plucked the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it aside.

"And hope for the best, right?"

He smiled back, or at least moved his mouth in the direction of a smile, as much as you could usually get from the reserved man. "Yes, of course."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. You both closed your eyes and breathed each other in. There was warmth in his embrace. A promise in the steady hands he held you with. Vulnerability in the skin that gently touched yours. To have someone this close, someone who was still more stranger than friend, though no less beloved, was what you had always wanted. And for once, what you wanted was just as lovely and fulfilling as you'd hoped. No catch. No deals. No unintended consequences. Just you and him and happiness.

All too soon he pulled away. His hand sought yours as he turned in the direction of the barracks. The longer you stayed behind, the worse the teasing from the others would be. They were only respectful of your relationship to a point, and after that it was fair game for a laugh. So you willingly followed.

"Crosshair?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about Hunter...."

The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.

"Well, you know he and I have been friends for a while. And he's confided a few things in me before. About what he wants. Or thinks he wants. He's changed his mind a few times on the specifics. But all in the same gist."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know, I just feel like I owe him for helping me get through a tough time. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever met you. So--"

Crosshair cut you off with a groan. "If you're trying to get me to play matchmaker..."

"It would get some of the attention off of us," you quickly offered. "If Hunter had someone he was bringing around, too. Or even just interested in."

Crosshair frowned in thought. "There was a bartender on Scarif he kept checking out..."

You grinned and squeezed his hand affectionately. "See? Just keep an eye out and nudge him a bit. Who knows what could happen."

You could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes for your sake. Instead he squeezed your hand in return. "Or you could come with us and nudge him yourself?"

Your walking slowed, right as you were about to cross the facility boundary line. You would have to let go of his hand once you crossed it, keep a professional distance, share your company with others. And once the Batch's business here concluded, then you would have to let him go and watch him disappear into the sky with all the prayers you could possibly send with him. And then you would be on your own. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. And maybe he would return, and maybe he wouldn't.

And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.

"Or you can stay," he said. The quietness of his voice betrayed what he really meant, what he really wanted.

And you knew what you wanted, too. Without you realizing, it was getting easier and easier for you to define your desires. And not only that, but to pursue them, too. To know your happiness was worth the risk of disappointment. It was clear to you now that you were not only worthy, but also capable. The man standing before you, holding your hand, gazing at you like nothing else mattered, was proof enough.

And so you said, "Take me with you."

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Bad Batch Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22, @dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com

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#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #crosshair #crosshair x reader #fluff #angst #romance #cloneficgiftexchange #hunter #wrecker #echo #tech

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brotrustmeicanwrite · 2 months

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I fucking hate AI but heavens would it be useful if it wasn't such an unethical shit show

First, just to be clear, I'm talking about actually using AI as a tool to support your writing process, not to generate soulless texts made from stolen data instead of writing yourself.

Back when ChatGPT first became available it was still pretty useless so I had a lot of time to learn about how it's made, how it works and the ethics of it before ever touching the technology. I decided pretty quickly to never use it to generate text (or images) for actual writing and art but I still wanted to experiment with what else it could do (because I'm a nosy bitch that needs to know and poke everything).

And HEAVENS was it a blessing for writing with adhd

The last time I wrote more than 200 words in a day (outside of school work obviously) was 7th grade. I wrote over 8k just in notes the day Google's "Gemini" (formerly "Bard") became available to the public.

In order to not jeopardize my existing work I decided to make a completely new story with Bard's help that wasn't linked in any way to anything I had made before. So I started with a prompt along the lines of "I need help writing a story". At first, it immediately started generating a completely random story about a green tiger but after some trial and error, I got it to instead start asking questions.

What do you want the theme of your story to be?

What genre do you want to write in?

What time period do you want your story to take place in?

Is there magic?

Are there other sentient creatures besides humans?

And so on and so forth. Until the questions became extremely specific after covering all the bases. I could tell that all I was doing was essentially talking to an amalgamation of every "how to write" blog and website you've ever seen and telling it which part I wanted to work on next but it still felt great because the AI didn't actually contribute anything besides a few suggestions of common tropes and themes here and some synonyms and related words there; I was doing all the work.

And that's the point.

Nothing in that exchange was something I couldn't easily do on my own. But what happened was that I had turned what is usually a chaotic mess of a railway network of thoughts into a clear and most importantly recorded conversation. I can sit down and answer all those questions on my own but what usually happens when I do, is that every thought I have branches out into 4-7 new ones which I then attempt to record all at once (which obviously doesn't work, yay adhd) only to end up lost in thought with maybe 20 lines of notes in total after 6 hours at the table. Alternatively, either because I get bored or just because, I get distracted by something or my own thoughts about a different unrelated topic and end up with even less.

Working within the boundaries of a conversation forces you to focus on one specific question at a time and answer it to progress. And the engagement from the back and forth is just enough entertainment to not get bored. The six hours I mentioned before is the time I spent chatting with what is essentially a glorified chatbot that day, way less time than what I spent on any other project, and yet I have more notes and a clearer image of the story than I do about any of my real work. I have a recorded train of thought.

In theory, this would also work with a real human in a real conversation but realistically only very few people have someone who would be willing to do that; I certainly don't have a someone like that. Not to mention that someone doesn't always have time. Besides that, a real human conversation involves two minds with their own ideas, both of which are trying to contribute their own thoughts and opinions equally. The type of AI chat that I experimented with, on the other hand, is essentially just the conversation you have with yourself when answering those questions, only with part of it outsourced to a computer and no one else butting into your train of thought.

On that note, I also tried to get it to critique my writing but besides fixing grammatical errors all that thing did was sing praises as if I was God. That's where you'll 100000% need humans.

tl;dr writing with AI as an assistant has basically the same effect as body doubling but it’s an unethical shit show so I’m not doing it again. Also I forgot to mention I did repeat the experiment for accuracy with different amount of spoons and it makes me extra bitter that is was very consistent

#expect follow up additions bc I never manage to get all of my thoughts down on a topic in one post even when I write it over several days #do not use AI if I wasn’t clear enough #do #not #use #AI #writing #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writeblr #authors of tumblr #tumblr writers #writer on tumblr #writers #writer problems #oc

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years

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Do you think about me?

AN: I was originally going to post a Felix fic for Valentine's Day, but I realised I haven't posted any fics about Seungmin yet, and this was the perfect time. Kill two birds with one stone. I do have a softer Seungmin fic in my drafts, but I chose violence because I don't love myself obviously lol. Happy Valentine's Day!

Synopsis: Seungmin is the guy you told your ex-boyfriend not to worry about. Turns out he had reasons to be concerned after all.

Heads up: Kim Seungmin x Fem! Reader, friends to friends who fuck/potentially lovers , some angst pertaining to Reader's previous relationship with Chris, Seungmin being a menace, dirty talk, hair pulling, mild biting (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), degradation (f. receiving), mild edging (f. receiving), slight dacryphilia, unprotected piv sex, Seungmin being a bit of a douche and slandering Ex! Chris, Possessive! Seungmin, implied breeding kink (it's not stated outright but, it's definitely there) and creampie.

I will block you if you are minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

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"You look terrible," Seungmin comments when you let him into your apartment, making himself at home on your couch.

"Wow, thanks. It's nice to see you too Seungmin and, Happy Valentine's Day," you respond dryly, shutting your door and trying to remember why you let him into your home in the first place. You'd much rather continue to wallow in solitude.

"It's true. Go take a shower and change while I get us some food. You've been moping for long enough, and you need to come back to the land of the living," he says, not missing a beat and opening up a food delivery app as though you'd just go along with him.

"It's been two weeks. I think I reserve the right to still be sad about Chris," you say, your heart clenching uncomfortably at the mention of your ex-boyfriend's name. At least you're not crying anymore. That's progress.

"Sure, but you can't just keep yourself locked up in your apartment forever. Also, shower. Now. We'll talk when you're finished," he says, glancing up at you and leaving you with no room to argue with him. Seungmin always seemed to know just how to get you to listen to whatever he said. It's really aggravating.

"Fine," you sigh in defeat, trudging your way towards your bathroom and choosing to ignore the triumphant smirk you know is on his face right now.

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You try to steady your breath as the warm water from your shower head washes over you. You'd never give him the satisfaction but, Seungmin was right. A shower definitely made you feel significantly better.

When you step out and take a look in the mirror, you're startled by your appearance. You look like a ghost of yourself. You probably looked worse before taking a shower and actually doing some skincare, but you still can't help how caught off guard you are by how unlike yourself you look. However, making yourself feel worse isn't productive.

You opt to start getting dressed after moisturising your skin, throwing on an oversized shirt without a bra and shorts. Pointedly ignoring your reflection this time around, you leave your bathroom feeling better than you have in admittedly a long time.

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"There she is," Seungmin says when you come into view, a genuine smile painting his face. Your mouth waters when the smell of the food he ordered wafts over to you, luring you towards your coffee table where Seungmin spread it all out.

"What did you get?" You ask, settling beside him. Your eyes taking in the various dishes in front of you, saliva pooling in your mouth.

"Comfort foods. Dig in," is all he says in response, grabbing a dish filled with what looks like rice cakes. You don't notice his careful gaze watching you as you grab a few slices of pizza for yourself and eat away, his eyes softening considerably.

A comfortable silence fills the space between the two of you as it always does. You'd be lying if you said you didn't appreciate him being here. Your apartment had been lonely the past few weeks, and having someone here feels... nice.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks quietly, his eyes meeting your surprised ones. Seungmin isn't pushy and invasive usually. You know he's happily drop it if you said no, but talking about it might help, and you know he'd listen. Really listen.

"We just... I think we just wanted different things. I think we're both in different stages of our lives, and it wouldn't have been fair to make the other wait. It was mostly mutual but, it still sucks, you know?" You say softly, swallowing around the lump you can feel building in your throat.

Seungmin pulls you into a hug before you realise what's happening. Strong and supportive and just there. You return his embrace, food forgotten on your table as you try your best not to completely fall apart. It's been so long since someone else has touched you. You close your eyes as you let his warmth and scent wash over you, hands fisting the fabric of his shirt.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just thought it might help," he mutters against your ear, his breath making a shudder involuntarily run down your spine. It takes a moment for you to steady yourself, "No, it's okay. That's the gist of it, really. He'd get a little jealous sometimes too but, it wasn't the biggest problem we had."

"Jealous? Why? You were nothing but loyal to him," he responds, confusion clear as day in his voice.

You could never lie to Seungmin even if you tried.

"He was jealous of you. Of us. The friendship we have," warmth filling your face as the confession spills out of you.

Seungmin pulls back then, his warm, wide eyes meeting yours as his hands rest on your shoulders, "Jealous of me?"

"Yeah, I mean even Jisung always makes jokes about how the two of us are closer than most. I think it got too much for Chris,"

"Jisung's an idiot," he retorts with a roll of his eyes, and you actually laugh. You can't remember the last time anything or anyone managed to get even a chuckle out of you.

"You're not wrong there, but my point still stands. I think you made him feel threatened, in a sense," you say, and an unreadable expression crosses his face. He seemed to be contemplating something.

"Were his feelings unfounded?"

It's your turn to be surprised because Seungmin's question catches you completely off guard.

"What?"

"Did he have a reason to feel threatened?" He asks with so much seriousness that you don't know what to say for a few beats, your mind totally blank. Seungmin is a good friend. You care about him deeply. You also recognise that he's kind, funny, great to banter with and attractive, but you've managed to keep those thoughts mostly to yourself over the years. Or at least you think you have. Maybe Chris caught onto them more than you realised.

"The look on your face is telling me maybe his feelings weren't unwarranted,"

His voice breaks you out of your thoughts. The small, smug uptick of the corners of his lips is both irritating and unnecessarily attractive. "No- I- I would've never done that to Chris."

"I know you wouldn't have, and I think he knew that too, but I think your hesitance to even answer my question is pretty telling," he says, his eyes taking on a knowing gleam.

You flounder with your words once more, denial at the implications Seungmin is making hot on your tongue, but you know you'd be lying.

"I'm flattered, really," he says, far too amused with how flustered you are and privately just relieved to see signs of the old you.

"You're so annoying," you huff, lightly shoving his chest with your hand and rolling your eyes to distract yourself from the tension you feel in the air. It's probably all in your mind anyways.

"Yeah, and you want me," he retorts with a full-blown smirk this time around, his usually warm eyes taking on a more mischievous glint. All you can do is stare at him. Kim Seungmin leaving you speechless at his audacity.

It's made all the more worse because he's not wrong.

Your heart rate picks up considerably when one of his hands moves to cup your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing your bottom lip as he watches the movement intently. He looks like he wants to eat you alive.

"I can't say your feelings aren't reciprocated," he mutters lowly, the drop in his voice making your insides clench around nothing. Embarrassment running through you at how easily he manages to effect you.

"I- huh?" Is all your murky mind can manage to come up with at the moment. Resisting the intrusive thought to just take his thumb in your mouth.

The grin he gives you is mean and condescending, not the typical smile you've come to know and expect from your friend. It only makes the ache so much worse. He let's out an amused, throaty chuckle before speaking, "Do I really have to spell it out for you? I want you too."

Seungmin seems to be trying his utmost to make your heart stop beating in your chest today.

"But, I need to know you're okay with this. Actually okay with this. I would never take advantage of you when you're vulnerable. I care about you too much to do that. If you say no, we can stop right now and pretend this never-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his pretty lips. Pouring years' worth of want and frustration into it, your hands desperately pulling him towards you and swallowing his startled noise. The kiss is messy and uncoordinated, but you can't bring yourself to really care when you finally have him like this.

One of Seungmin's hands weaves its way into your hair, giving it a slight tug and grinning against your lips when you gasp at the sting. Taking the opportunity to lick into your mouth while his other hand runs along your waist, toying with the bottom of your shirt. You barely have a chance to breathe, let alone think with how thoroughly he's kissing you.

Eventually, oxygen does become a necessity, but he doesn't relent. Moving from your likely bruised lips and kissing along your neck, his teeth occasionally grazing the skin there in a way that makes you melt further into him.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this," he utters against your skin, pressing his teeth a little harder against a weak spot he found during his exploration. His hand ghosting over one of your breasts, stilling the air in your lungs. Between his words and his ministrations, trying to remember how to speak is becoming increasingly more challenging.

"I've wanted you for s-so long too," you breathe, too wound up to care about bearing so much to him at once. Your response seems to shatter whatever fragile resolve Seungmin had because you soon find yourself on your back. His hands impatiently shoving your shirt up as his mouth finds yours once more.

He swallows the mewls you let out against him as his hands touch your breasts for the first time. Giving them experimental squeezes to gauge your reaction. You find yourself arching into him when his fingers toy with your sensitive nipples, a gasp flying from your mouth when he gives them a particularly hard pinch.

"I didn't think you'd be such a masochist," he muses, licking at your throat once more as his fingers and hands toy with your tits to his hearts content. His hardening cock pressing against you through your flimsy shorts.

"I didn't think you'd be such a menace," you fire back, but the breathlessness in your voice dispels any potential venom in your tone. You cry out when he bites down on your neck harder than before. Not enough for it to really hurt, but the little pain it provides is enough to worsen the sticky mess in your panties and, you involuntarily grind yourself against his sweatpants covered cock.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of. This is nothing," you're not sure if that's a promise of things to come or a threat, but either way, you're not complaining. Before you can think to retort, his hot, wet mouth envelopes one of your nipples. Licking and sucking at the sensitive nub in a way that makes your toes curl. All of this is only worsened by one of his hands slowly trailing down your body, fingertips lightly grazing your abdomen until they reach the top of your shorts.

But because Seungmin seems to enjoy seeing you suffer, his hand stills there. Toying with the waistband of your shorts and every brush of his fingers making the ache you've been feeling for what seems like ages more unbearable.

"Seungmin," you whine, thrusting your hips up towards him in search of any sort of relief, your hands tugging on his hair desperately. The pop that rings out when he releases your nipple borders on obscene, his eyes alight with desire and mischief once more.

"Yes?" He asks, sounding far too pleased with himself as his fingertips trace featherlight patterns just above your shorts.

It takes everything in you not to huff in frustration at this incredibly aggravating man, but you have a feeling that would just emboldened him. "Please touch me," you beg barely above a whisper, the throbbing between your thighs currently more of a priority than your ego.

"I am touching you," he retorts, pressing kisses to the tops of both of your breasts to prove his point and snapping the waistband of your shorts against your skin.

You might actually hate him.

"No- I mean, please touch me here," you respond, grabbing his hand and sliding it down the front of your shorts until his fingers brush your more than likely ruined panties.

You can't help the smugness you feel when you see the ever composed and teasing Kim Seungmin falter for once. His lips parting and eyes becoming lidded when his fingers experimentally touch you, taking in just how wet you already are.

The unadulterated want on his face makes him look more attractive somehow. A strangled gasp flies from your lips when his fingers run along your clothed slit, hips twitching into his touch at each brush of his calloused fingers on your swollen clit.

"You're soaked already," he groans against your skin, sweat dotting his forehead and making his hair stick to it as he meets your gaze. His fingers continue to touch and brush and run along you in a way that quickly drives you to madness.

"Seungmin, please. It hurts. I want your fingers inside me please please plea -" your begging is cut off by two of his fingers pushing your panties to the side and sinking into you to the knuckle, his lips finding yours again and leaving your mind spinning.

His fingers stretch you out in a way you haven't felt in some time. Your own not nearly as long and thick as his. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull when he starts moving, curling them inside of you in a way that makes an embarrassing high-pitched keen spill from your lips that's he's more than happy to swallow.

"So fucking wet and tight," he groans, increasing the speed of his fingers when it seems like you've adjusted to the stretch. His fingers quickly finding that spot inside of you that results in your walls gripping his fingers harshly because of fucking course he would. He just had to be good at everything. He opts to continue kissing and licking and nipping at your neck as he fucks you brainless on his fingers. All you can do is lie there and take it, moans and mewls and keens mixed with incoherent words all you're able to offer in return. Your hands moving in a frenzy. Unsure of whether they want to tug on his hair or grip his shirt to steady yourself.

"Are you gonna cum just from my fingers already? Isn't that a little too pathetic, y/n?" He asks against the shell of your ear, the harsh tone of his voice making you gush on his fingers more.

"Oh, you like it when I'm mean. Aren't you a cute, little, brainless slut," he groans, tugging your lobe with his teeth as his thumb presses against your clit. His body keeping you in place as your body bucks against him at the sensation, crying out when he rubs hard circles against the hypersensitive nub.

Your orgasm is so close that you can practically taste it. Sparks building at the base of your spine and spreading throughout your body as Seungmin's fingers, mouth and words push you closer and closer and closer to the edge.

Which is why it hurts all the more when Seungmin abruptly stops and pulls his fingers out from inside of you. Your eyes fly open, and you meet his dark ones, a devilish grin spread across his face as he leans away from you. Sadistic pleasure coursing through his veins as he takes in your dishevelled state.

The tears build in your eyes make his cock throb, "Seungmin, why- why'd you stop? I was close," you ask and the whiney edge to your voice tempts him to sink his cock into you right then and there.

"I'd much rather feel you cum on my dick," is all the answer you receive. Complaints dying on your lips as Seungmin tugs off his shirt impatiently, your hunger eyes taking in his bare torso as he makes quick work of his boxers and sweats as well. Seeing him completely naked infront of you makes you realise just how empty you are, panting like an animal in heat at the sight of his long, flushed cock smearing pre-cum against his tense abdomen.

"Well, what're you waiting for?" He asked with a raised eyebrow like you're a moron. It takes you a moment to catch on to what he means, your own hands tug off your skewed, ruined clothing in record time. Seungmin takes a moment to admire you spread out before him. Thighs parted and, your pussy swollen and leaking with arousal all for him. His cock pulses as he takes it in his hand and slowly runs his tip along your slit, the corners of his mouth lifting up when your hips buck up into him everytime he brushes your clit or teases your entrance like he'll sink in any minute now.

You think he might just make you lose your mind.

"Seungmin, please," you beg so desperately that your voice cracks in the process, but you couldn't care less. Nothing but, the desire to cum or feel him inside of you or, both really, taking over.

"Since my needy slut asked so nicely," he responds, pushing the head of his cock inside of you. Both of you moan at the feeling, Seungmin gritting his teeth as he pushes inch after inch inside of his cock into your tight, hot pussy. His forehead rests against your shoulder when he finally bottoms out, your quiet mewls and his harsh breathing being the only sounds heard in your living room.

Your nails dig into his back when he gradually starts moving, his cock hitting spots inside of you that render you borderline delirious. "You're so fucking ah tight," he rumbles against your throat, grabbing your thigh and angling your leg over his hip in a way that makes him slide impossibly deeper.

"Seungmin, yo-you feel so good. So de-deep," you babble out, a few stray tears falling down your face as he picks up speed, his balls slapping harshly against your ass with each one of his thrusts and his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Yeah? Is my little cockslut already going stupid on my cock?" You noticed it earlier but, the possessive edge to his voice makes you clench around his cock harder. All you're able to do in response is whine and moan, nodding your head in an attempt to answer his question.

"Aren't you cute and pathetic," he breathes unsteadily against your skin, groaning at the way your walls try their best to get him to cum. "Didn't take you long to let me fuck you, did it? How long have you fantasised about this?"

Shame intertwined with arousal knots in your gut because he's right. It didn't take him long at all to have you spreading your thighs for him. You're honestly amazed that he can speak coherently right now. Your own cognitive abilities failing you as you try to muster up words to answer him.

One of his hands grips your jaw once more and forces you to meet his intimidating gaze, his cock stilling inside of you completely.

"I asked you a question. I expect an answer," god, the commanding tone in his voice really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.

"I-I've thought a-about you um like thi-this since we f-first met," you manage to stutter out, trying your hardest to focus with him nestled so deeply inside of you.

"So, it seems like you can speak," he says, resuming his unrelenting fucking into as though it's nothing. You can feel your orgasm building once more, hoping against hope that he'll let you finally cum this time around. You're not sure what you might do if he doesn't.

"That long, huh? You should've said something. I would've happily fucked you dumb on my cock a long time ago. No wonder Chris was jealous," he muses, but hearing Chris's names throws you for a second, surprise colouring your face.

"Oh, come on, y/n. Don't give me that look. We both know that you were thinking about every time he so much as touched you. I bet you touched yourself to thoughts of me too" he whispers into your ear, his hand moving between your bodies until his fingers eventually find your clit. He wastes no time in rubbing fast circles against you, low groans filling your ear as you clench and gush around him.

Even if you could respond, you're not sure what you would say. Seungmin's sheer nerve leaving utterly speechless. Fortunately for you, your orgasm slams into you before your mind can dwell too much on the jarring accuracy of his words. Your hands cling to his broad shoulders for purchase. Your body convulsing harshly underneath his as he continues to fuck you through your mind numbing release.

"Fuck," he moans, lidded eyes taking in your purely blissed out expression and his hands flying to your thighs as he chases his own climax.

"Your pretty pussy is gonna make me cum, baby. Gonna fill you up with my ah cum. Fu-fuck, gonna cum inside you. Make you take it all," he groans deliriously, picking up speed even more all while the obscene sounds of your wetness and skin slapping against skin rings out. "My good girl. My cumslut ah fuck," is the only warning you receive before he stills inside of you to the hilt. Moans and curses spilling from his mouth as his hot, thick cum paints your walls white. His hips jerking against yours from time to time as he rides out his release.

The two of you catch your respective breaths. The sticky mixture of your climaxes slowly leaking out of you but, you're still too hazy and thoroughly rung out to bring yourself to care at the moment. Your fingers playing with the ends of Seungmin's hair as he plants soft kisses against your shoulder and collarbone.

"Hey,"

"Mmhmm?"

"Happy Valentine's Day," if anyone asks, your heart definitely does not stutter in your chest at the smile he gives you after wishing you a happy Valentine's Day. Not at all.

#kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #stray kids smut

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drowning-in-pleasure · 2 months

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Important Info! Please Read!

Hello hello! I'm Drowned, and this is my kink blog!

I'm 21 years old, pronouns are he/they/it, been lurking all over hypno spaces basically since I turned 18. I've been bored lately, and wanted to actually interact with the community I've been observing for so long. And since I saw there were a fair few hypno blogs here, I thought i'd join the fun! :D

This is my limits and DNI list! As well as basic information about me (Name/Nicknames, age, pronouns, main kinks, etc), I felt it was important to have front and center. It saves you having to ask, and saves me having to send it everytime someone DMs me, so we can play or talk to our hearts content haha.

So without further ado, let's get to it!

Limits First!:

NO MINORS.

No asking for pictures/video of myself. Not that kinda blog, I'm here to verbalize horny thoughts and gain some mutuals to be horny with. Maybe get off with a random stranger or two. That's all. Picture are only for folks I trust.

No heavy gore/mutilations. I'll fuck while injured, blood loss on the battlefield is sexy. But like, no guts spilling out/lost limbs/debilitating or otherwise stuff like that. Makes me a bit queasy.

No Beasti@Iity/LøIi/P€dø BS. Should go without saying but just to be 100% certain. None of that.

No Piss/Scat/Toilet and bathroom stuff in general. And no feet. Feet stuff is 100% not my thing. I don't suck toes.

I am a transmasc nonbinary person. While I do sometimes enjoy detrans/bimbofication, please know I am a masculine man type person. That will never actually change, and nothing you say will make me actually detransition once a session is done.

Aaaand Number One Rule! If you aren't sure if I would be into something, ASK! I don't mind trying new or odd things at all, but if you just do it without asking or any prompting from me, that'll catch you a swift block.

Otherwise, honestly? Go absolutely nuts. I do have some odd ideas of what I think is sexy, and I am super open to trying new things. Pluuuuus, have a bit of a freeuse thing, so if you can make it hot I am all ears. 👀 Just being controlled is hot enough.

Speaking of, kinks! I have a fair few actually, and I don't want to make a whole giant list as I am still figuring things out. But some highlights are definitely in order:

Obviously I'm into hypnosis/brainwashing mainly, there's some Exhibitionism, I consider myself a monsterfucker (if it can consent, I am all down!), and I feel like some CnC is a given with this kink. Somno is also really hot, and i think I've mentioned bimbofication. Plus some odd ones like the cold/being heated up from the cold, and just general slave/service stuff. I don't quite know proper terms for them all, but you get it.

Obviously not all required besides the hypno itself! But I do appreciate them lol. And I'll happily try my best to do what you want in return, even if I may be nervous about it.

Otherwise, that's really it! Go nuts, go bonkers, make my brain into scrambled eggs~ do whatever you want with me.

I'll be waiting~

#hypnosis #somno k!nk #dumbification #bimboification #cnc k!nk #monster fucker #exhibition kink #introduction #introductory post #important post #pinned post #pinned intro #drooly puppy #transmasc sub

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omegalomania · 2 years

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hiii not sure if you’ve done this already but can u make a post explaining the names of ur tags? i think it’s super interesting and i wanna know the story behind em!!!

sure disclaimer i made this sideblog on a whim so i wouldnt spam people on main and i mostly just came up with funny hee hoo tags for my own archiving purposes and then i stopped using my main and this became the blog i used the most and now it has 13k+ posts and im too lazy to change any of the tags even if most of them suck.

also im just gonna do the main ones like the guys + friendship tags. if youre curious about any of the other tags i have that i didnt mention here feel free to ask.

patrick stump: stumpy patriq because this is the best shirt in the world

joe trohman: not bad joe because he loved that damn meme so much

andy hurley: it's on furball because of this stupid video where he drum battles animal

pete wentz: two more weeks because of saturday / the "to you" poem which i associate very heavily w pete

whole band friendship: never trust a band that wouldn't bleed for you again because of the "to you" poem

joe and patrick: summer of 2001 because that's when they met in that fateful borders that one day

joe and pete: hum hallelujah, because they will sometimes do their sweet little forehead touch during hum hallelujah

andy and joe: the best boys, line from sophomore slump or comeback of the year and because they're the best boys, obviously

andy and pete: big boat, because of the best interview of the two of them of All time

patrick and pete: half doomed and semi sweet, because thats one of the few lines in fob's discography that actually is confirmed to be somewhat about patrick, and because patrick and pete stand beside each other and sing it together live when they play disloyal order and they did that in front of me when i saw them live for the first time ever and it changed my life

andy and patrick: sneak attack because of that one time andy smooched patrick on the cheek and he was like !!! andy that was a sNEAK ATTACK

ok thats all i got rn

#askin hours #anon #these were all extremely spur of the moment cause i needed a tag for whatever reason and then they all sucked but whatever

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brightatmidnight · 1 year

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The Tutorial Revamp Update for The Chaser’s Voyage (Version 0.5.0.03) is live!

The next big update for The Chaser's Voyage is live! We MAJORLY revamped our tutorial and in this week's post I go into all the big changes.

Hello everyone! Here's another surprise big update, we've reworked our entire tutorial! We were planning on finishing up our client updates, but as Eos mentioned in last week's blog post, we realized we needed to rethink how we did our tutorial. There's quite a few changes to go over so let's jump into it!

We changed a BUNCH of our tutorial, starting most obviously with our newly designed Prompts! We wanted something that better fit our game's visual style and had a bit more pop to them, so we redesigned the prompt windows. Besides just the visual look, we also made two other changes to our prompts. We made it clearer what we wanted the player to do, sometimes separately from how to do it, and always with an underline to draw attention to it. We also made prompts no longer close on their own once the player satisfied the prompt. Instead there are now "Close Prompt" notices that allow the player to close the prompt after they've done the required action, but also allow them to continue reading the prompt if they want. There are more prompts now than there used to be, but teaching the player how to properly play with clarity is very important! In order to add more clarity, we also color coded the systems in the prompts and added icons where applicable, to draw a better connection between the game UI and the prompt instructions.

Next obvious change is to your crewmate Argi. We realized that while we really like all our lore, the tutorial is not the place to give it. It's better to just get into the action! So Argi's lines have been changed and reduced to help the tutorial flow better. For those who like our lore as much as we do, don't worry, Argi still has plenty of character.

The final big change is to the tutorial scenes. The original tutorial had 6 scenes: Introduction, System Repairs, Imperial Fleet, Debris Field, Battleship Pursuit, and Pirates. We've not only changed the order of these scenes, we've also changed some of them, and added a couple more new scenes.

• The 1st still goes over the piloting basics and system management, but with MUCH less talking now.

• The 2nd scene is mostly the same, except we decided to better teach the player the relationship between the Auxiliary Systems and repairs.

• For the 3rd scene we have the player navigate an asteroid field, focusing on obstacle evasion. This replaces our debris field which was was more focused on general system management.

• We added a new encounter for the 4th scene, Imperial Sentries in a Radiation Storm. This is especially important as it gives the player much needed info on how to combat rad storms, as well as showing them the effects the storm can have on certain obstacles.

• The 5th scene is another new one, a bounty hunter! Bounty hunters tend to be a bit easier to deal with than Pirates (in one off encounters), so we wanted to give the player some experience with fighting enemy combatants before the final scene of the tutorial. This also serves as a way to teach the player about enemy weapon types, which we didn't go over before.

• The 6th is the new home of the Imperial Fleet. We still wanted to teach the player how to communicate with this scene, but since we added more combat encounters to the tutorial, we also expanded on this scene and made it the docking and hull repair tutorial. This gets the player topped off for the final two challenging encounters.

• The penultimate scene is mostly unchanged, the player is taught how to survive an encounter with a pursuing UGS Battleship!

• The final scene is still the "test" of the tutorial, the Pirate Attack! This encounter is unchanged as it was hard enough before, but now the player should be better prepared for it after getting through this new and improved tutorial.

In addition to the tutorial changes are a couple of smaller quality of life additions. the bigger of the two is for gamepad users. We've added arrows to the Remaining Power section of the UI to show when the Increase Power and Decrease Power inputs are active. It's a pretty neat little change that helps give some good input feedback. Secondly, the Battleship Distance screen now shows wire frames for both the battleship and the player's ship, to make it clearer how the distance info is displayed.

And to wrap thing up as always, there's the bug fixes! There were quite a few we found over the last couple months, and with your help, we can find more!

You can read the full patch notes here and can follow The Chaser’s Voyage and Bright at Midnight on Twitter and join our Discord for more news and to give feedback! If you’d like to play The Chaser’s Voyage, you can buy it while we’re in Early Access on Steam!

-Cameron

#The Chaser's Voyage #patch notes #space #space game #spaceflight #Steam #Steam games #early access #indie #indie games #indie dev #game dev #game development #video games #gaming #Bright at Midnight

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wanderingstethoscope · 2 years

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2017, the Year I Nearly Gave Up but Didn’t

I have always wanted to start a blog about my life, but never really got round into doing it. I blame my “all-or-nothing” attitude. No doubt, this mindset has gotten me places in life, but at other times I find myself fighting an internal battle with my own thoughts. So, here I am, a newly graduated veterinarian, at the age of 25, using Tumblr for the very first time. Obviously, life as a vet student got too busy for me to even process my own thoughts and feelings, let alone starting a blog. Although, perhaps I was “semi-avoiding” those thoughts, as I know, for a fact, that if I do indeed allow myself to dwel into the unknown, I might deterioriate. Besides the overwhelming amount of content that gets taught to us every single day, there was also a seemingly continuous pilling of random assignments, mini exams throughout the semester, dealing with friendships, minimal sleep, etc, and not to mention the pressure to actually perform well. I, unfortunately, gathered the habit of setting unrealistic expectations on myself. Obviously, my mental health was sacrificed, ignored even, that, unfortunately, affected my performace, relationships between family and peers, and also my own self-confidence. Don’t get me wrong, though; vet school is an extremely rewarding degree. On the good days, you get to see the smile on your clients’ faces, the wag of a puppy’s tail with paws too big for their size, purring kitties, the re-visiting old cat with hyperthyroidism that has been improving and still as sweet as ever, and not to mention the lovely teaching staff members and life-long friends that you make along the way.

Thought I’d share my journey on how I got accepted into the degree; because veterinary science is something many would love to do, but, if you were anything like me, had this belief that this dream of mine was close to impossible.....since I was never naturally smart, and was FAR from being an A+ student. But I am here to tell you today that any dream is possible, you just need to be willing to put in the hard work and grind.

I completed high school in Christchurch, New Zealand in the year of 2015. As a student, I always had an interest in science and animals; and so veterinary science had always been at the back of my mind ever since. The only problem was, that I never believed in myself. Regardless, I applied for the pre-veterinary programme at Massey University New Zealand, and basically “half-arsed” my way through the first semester. To no surprise, I was not accepted into the degree. I remember contacting the undergraduate staff to seek advice for re-application; and was told, that I was required to get at least ALL A’s for ALL papers for 4 more semesters. That was my wake-up call; that there was really nothing else I’d rather do with my life, so if I really wanted this, I had to put in the work. I remember my father sitting out by the deck at my old house in Christchurch, and me opening the window from my room, saying...

“Hey dad, um, just so you know, there is a very likely chance that you will not see me for the next 2 whole years, as I will be too busy burying my face in books.”

That was when the grind started; I enrolled myself in other science-related papers such as Biochemistry, Genetics and Conservation. I was studying non-stop, round-the-clock; only making an appearance at meal times. Exam periods were extremely stressful; there was a time when I only had a day to revise a semester’s worth of a Genetics paper...and I was sitting on the floor of the dining room at 2am, bawling and feeling absolutely hopeless (embarrassing, I know, but to my surprise I did well for that paper, lol). I remember setting up unrealistic rules for myself, and my typical day went like this:

4:00 am : Wake up

4:30 am: Begin study

and pretty much having my head in my books all the way until 10pm.

Little things would trigger me; such as when I went 2 minutes overtime on a topic, or if my lunch order was late since I had to rush back to study. Not fun.

2017; the year I finally got my grades up with a GPA competitive enough for vet school. I re-applied for vet in 2017 with a GPA of 8 out of a 9 point scale, with my latest semester grades of straight 4 A+’s. I remember the day that they released the selection outcomes; and the agonising wait that came with it. I was playing a movie on my laptop while spamming the “re-fresh” button on Yahoo! Mail. Results came 2 hours later than the expected time; and without opening the email, I peeked at the first sentence that popped up in the preview;

“Kia ora Weiyin,”

What? Why didn’t it start with a “Congratulations!”?

I clicked open the email and to my utmost dissapointment, I was rejected. The heartache and dismay that came after was nothing like I’ve ever experienced. I gave absolutely everything, continously for 2 whole years, and was still rejected. I cried my heart out.

As I am writing this, I just asked my beloved grandmother how many tears I cried when I got rejected, and she just answered me with “enough to make my heart break.”

Why was I rejected? Because the school had implemented a new selection system; instead of the GPA comprising 80% of the overall ranking, it was lowered to just 50%, and the other 50% comprised of non-academic skills i.e. multiple-mini interviews (MMIs), situational judgement tests (SJTs), etc. This implied that not only I had to continue keeping my GPA up, but also to ace the non-academic part of the selection process.

I felt hopeless at the time, and thought that, maybe, it was just not meant to be.

Or maybe, just maybe, if I just gave one last try.

And so I enrolled myself into “Toastmasters”, a public speaking club. There I learned to be comfortable speaking in front of an audience, practice active listening, and form creative ways to craft out a speech. It was such an experience, and it was amazing how easily you can turn nervousness into excitement when giving a speech. Every day, I would practice all kinds of scenarios that were likely to be tested in the MMI. I continued to do these until impromptu speeches felt almost natural to me.

Year 2018 finally came. I remember it being about 4:00 am in the morning, on the 7th of July 2018, when I checked my email. That was the moment I received my acceptance letter. Of course, my family were all waiting anxiously for my results...

“Hey ma, pa, looks like I’ll be graduating soon...” At the time, I was almost done with completing my Biochemistry degree. They responded with a very saddened “Ohh...”.

Then I continued, “in 5 years time” ;)

#vet #vetschool #medical #medicalschool #medschool #study #student #studentblog #veterinarian #vetstudent

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olivereactsaboutgarbage · 2 years

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Higurashi When They Cry - Arc 1 Chapter 12

Did you see? Did you see the punchline?

Well, punchlines aside, there’s an obvious first order of business I need to get to here: Whichever part of the Kaiji Joke was the weird fetishy one.

Rena HAS been touched before and not reacted negatively. Keiichi’s head has touched her legs and nothing bad happened at all. If you will permit me to use a meme format to reveal the truth that this has allowed me to reach...

Darkened Mind: This means Rena doesn’t have trauma related to being touched. Glowing Mind: This means Rena isn’t a robot programmed to automatically freak out upon contact with human skin, which doesn’t mean she doesn’t have trauma related to being touched. She still could, especially for when people touch her using their hands. Ascendant Human: Regardless of whether or not Rena has trauma related to being touched, she obviously can’t be boiled down to a formula of If x Then y. No human being is that predictable. Anyone can deviate from their own behavioral patterns based on any number of factors. As for what Keiichi’s head touching Rena’s legs means: Ryukishi sometimes includes creepy anime bullshit in his stories.

As for other concerns on the agenda... I’ll get to those as I go through the events of Chapter 12.

I guess I kept jerking off and nodding awake in a panic all night...

I’m not gonna add every line of narration that confirms my biases to this post because that would be every line of narration.

So... I already know that the 1st arc of Higurashi is coming to a close, but... Keiichi’s attempts to “adopt the ideal, most cautious new behaviors” and also “be so normal no one will be able to accuse him of being cautious” are so... unsustainable in the long term. You can’t just say “I happened to switch up my routine a bit today”, “It just coincidentally happened again” and so on for a month straight. ...I mean, I guess that’s where at some point Keiichi would say “I formed a new habit. No it’s not sad that I formed a habit of being more distant from you. I’m normal.” If he’s even thinking that far ahead.

This narration correlates to a specific bias I’ll mention later.

Now is that because she doesn’t want to talk about it or because she doesn’t remember.

If Keiichi hallucinating were to become an extremely common trope throughout all 8 Higurashis, lines like this would probably be essential. Or I’m overthinking things due to the nature of visual novels. In fiction, the medium is just as essential to the audience experience as the content within the medium. Even things like a “lack of content” can become content. The gutters in a comic, the negative space in an image-that-hasn’t-been-split-up-into-multiple-panels, page turns when reading a book, the week-long wait between episodes of something that gets released weekly... all of these can be narrative tools, not for conveying what happens, but for controlling the way the audience perceives the fact that it happened in the first place.

Besides character sprites, backgrounds, and audio, the thing that distinguishes a visual novel from a book is how much more frequently you need to click to advance a visual novel’s textbox compared to how frequently you need to turn a book’s pages. It renders every sentence worthy of thoughtful consideration, which could combine with the fact that writing this blog already makes me try to ponder the things I’m consuming more thoughtfully. The result would be me overthinking things.

Luckily I don’t see any evidence around here of me having overthought anything!!! (<--Keiichi moment) (Even if you assume my conclusion that Keiichi isn’t perceiving reality correctly is wrong, that means the needle he found definitely existed, which means he lost track of a needle which was literally evidence, so the sentence I just said, then pointed at while saying “Keiichi moment”, WAS a Keiichi moment in BOTH potential readings of the narrative! Keiichi IS a fool who DOES fail to see obviously visible evidence! “Of what” is left to be determined for now. I’m a writing genius, and like I said earlier today, I should be the one writing One Piece instead of Oda.)

Those were three cool paragraphs to write instead of ever at any point clicking past the sentence pictured above them. With regards to the fact that I wrote those three paragraphs,

Ah, she’s lying, like an abuse victim. I was going to say “well that answers the question of whether or not she remembers” but no it doesn’t!!! Ascended Human: No It Doesn’t

Oh, this is the first instance of Mion screentime I’m witnessing post-Third Eye Opening. I’m gonna be honest that before my Third Eye Opening, Mion was the only character I particularly liked, because I didn’t feel like I “got” the rest of them. Turns out just because I now care about everyone and am rooting for a world in which they all turn out okay doesn’t mean Mion’s not still my favorite. People who’ve been reading my One Piece posts would have read me mentioning the Effect of Reverse Santa!Carmen P. Sandiego being present in a panel of One Piece: A brief moment in my brain where all other processes took a backseat to basking in the glory of a character I really liked.

Same thing’s happening with Mion. Maybe the point of commonality between Reverse Santa!Carmen P. Sandiego and Mion is that they’re both old, and they’re both girls.

You know, because Mion is an old man.

You know, because Mion is a teenage girl.

Mion... :(

Mion wants Keiichi to quit screwing around with baseball bats. She’s taking this desire of hers seriously enough to actually be feeling insecure about her intelligence, rather than her usual confident bluster that was present even in the scene where Keiichi was admonishing her for her bad grades. Or, alternatively, she’s evil. (<--I guess you can just mentally append this sentence to the end of any paragraph I write that involves a girl. Do my “unless I’m wrong”s manually in your mind from here on out.)

Hm... she does seem genuinely bad at coherently expressing her feelings. Also this:

For once I don’t think there’s any reading possible of this where Keiichi is actually wrong.

Unless you wanna be a fucker and say that Mion is actually an alien masquerading as human and all her actions are arbitrary.

Hmm... thinking again about the Side Story where Mion is like “Hey Rena, Ooishi is a harbinger of death” and they both laugh.

Hmm... ALSO thinking about the links drawn between Rena and DID.

Keiichi is yelling. He’s yelling loud words. He asks Mion whether it was her or Rena who “did it” with the mochi. Mion says it was her.

Hmm... trying to remember... was there some detail about the mochi Keiichi threw at the wall leaving a bright red trail? It doesn’t really matter if the answer is no, and it doesn’t really matter if this line of narration is arbitrary, but it would be deeply funny if this narration was super non-arbitrary.

Keiichi finally gets bored of acting normal as a ploy to not get murdered. He decides to make his thoughts and feelings explicit to Mion.

(Took a break here because something “more important” (equally unimportant) came up--which is also why this post is past-midnight. But it still totally counts as me not having broken my streak of on-time posting, because I haven’t slept yet! Ignore the problems with that logic.)

Mion cries. Keiichi almost feels bad, but then remembers to feel good.

I don’t know what that sounds like but I would have described the voice acting moreso as “neutral, almost coldly so--just slightly, not overwhelmingly, menacing”. The voice acting also clued me in to the fact that what the localization translates as “so that’s how it is” is merely, y’know, the word “souka”. In other words, because I have voice acting and don’t speak Japanese, I’m not getting the untainted Higurashi experience!!! (<--takes when they cry entirely too seriously)

(”Please infer: Mion definitely doesn’t have DID” yeah okay whatever fine I’ll do that)

WAIT LMAO??? WHAT DID SHE DO

...Did Rena and Mion look you in the eye? Did the Toddlers speak to you?

So, first of all, very funny for Keiichi to be like “THERE’S NO GOOD REASON FOR RENA TO HAVE AN AXE” when the Rena-holding-an-axe CG is literally reused. Like. I’ve seen it before. Back in the part of Higurashi before things were Messed Up. I almost feel like it’s boring for me to go “yep, another instance of me being correct that no one’s evil” whenever literally anything happens, but honestly I forget how Rena behaved in the Chapter 12 Rena-has-an-axe scene so maybe I’ll just read further for now.

...what an insane thing to say. as a murderer it serves no tactical advantage. as a non-murderer it. um. serves no tactical advantage. ... it serves no tactical advantage.

Okay, well, Rena’s answer to “Why do you have a weapon?” is “Why do you have a weapon?” and her response to “Because I’m Normal, I’m Normal, Look At Me I’m Keiichi The Normal Guy” is “Because I’m Normal, I’m Normal, Look At Me I’m Rena The Normal Girl”

So Keiichi is definitely wrong about Rena being a cunning murderer, because look at how idiotic the things she’s saying are. She’s saying things only a complete fool would say. I’m really embarrassed for her!

Just because Keiichi is wrong about her being smart doesn’t mean I should, or necessarily even can, assume her intentions are pure. I realize that in my last post I kinda ended up latching onto one thing as if it was the only thing and gradually shifted my own goalposts from “none of the five kids are evil” to “Keiichi is the only character who behaves maliciously” which I think was a mistake. He’s obviously not. Even if he is the only character within the core fivesome who behaves maliciously, which is honestly a heck of a reach, he’s not the only character who behaves maliciously, I think I was inadvertently too trusting, of all things.

Hmm... Ryukishi obviously had the concepts down for all the main characters of the series before he started writing, right? Should I assume that if Keiichi’s paranoia being the first small crack that leads to an already-fragile situation crumbling is the central concept of the series, the reason Rena is its poster-girl is that she’s the one who comes closest to warranting his paranoia? I don’t know if I like that as a writing decision if Mion and the Toddlers are relatively mentally sound. Seems crass to add to the heap of media where “crazy people are bad”. Emphasis on the word relatively because I guarantee if the word relatively weren’t there I would have absolutely nothing to be concerned about.

THAT BEING SAID... well, I’ll get into it once I reach that part of the plot.

Heh, it’s kinda cute that he’s still bothering to give her the time of day in a situation like this, instead of just like, taking off in a nonstop sprint.

...Never thought I’d ever call Keiichi cute, and I have read this before.

With the one singular exception of the way I just looked at it.

So... hmm... how viable is it to split Rena up into having “one personality who repeats the last words of her sentences, and one personality who doesn’t do that, but has a weird laugh”? (Wait I think the term these days is “alter” not “personality”. Unless it changed again. Terms always change!!) Keiichi said something about her weird laugh being a third thing from those other times Rena was different from Rena, but he’s way beyond being an unreliable narrator (if I’m right). That being said, for this concept to hold true at all, it must be assumed that “Ren-alter Ellipsis Alter” swapped to “Ren-alter LOL” mid-walk, between being all like “Keiichi, you seem to be hiding. Was it just a prank bro?” and being all like “Keiichi, you don’t seem to be hiding.”

...Wait is the same girl who said “You wouldn’t do something awful like touching me non-aggressively in a normal context, correct?” now saying “By the way, were you just joking around when you mutilated my fingers?“? When I ask that, I’m not assuming the answer is no. I’m merely... asking it.

Hmm... can the selfish side of me who wants Mion to be someone I can adore unabashedly... and the selfless side of me who wants Higurashi to have as few ableist implications as possible... reach a compromise?

Oh, Rena just did her word-repeating thing. Nothing really seems to have changed as far as I can tell... I’ll have to be on the lookout for if she’s still laughing.

Nah, she only did her word-repeating thing once, transitioned immediately into really not liking dishonesty, then laughed. Dunno if this is the right angle to approach the character from. Although assuming alters have a minimum amount of time they have to spend “being the face” (IS THAT THE RIGHT TERMINOLOGY???) might be a little silly on my part?

Maybe you just have no skills, man. You ARE the Everyman Anime Protagonist Guy.

Alternatively if this were merely a hallucination of Rena I guess no movement speed would cause Keiichi to not perceive her. I guess just like I shouldn’t be making assumptions about minimum amounts of time any given Ren-alter needs to spend as The Face if she has DID, I also shouldn’t be making assumptions about the maximum extent to which Keiichi could be far-gone if he has paranoid schizophrenia. Although only one assumption needs to be wrong. (Ascendant Human: Both Can Be Wrong)

Okay I guess uh,

Okay I guess those three lines of narration are a bit too much to ignore. They have to exist for a reason. There’s like, no way this isn’t a hallucination. Which maybe means all that Rena character analysis I just did was pointless.

...Then a-freaking-gain, suddenly all she’s saying in this scene is “I don’t want things to be like last time, please talk to me so it can be better this time” which, if Ryukishi is trying to obscure the reality of the fact that the girls aren’t evil, is SUCH TAME DIALOG TO GIVE TO A HALLUCINATION, maybe it really IS just that Keiichi is a little wimp with no athletic skills???

Crap it’s like the 80s and Keiichi uses his corded phone all the time, I know he doesn’t have a cell phone. For a second there I was asking myself if he was unknowingly talking to Rena over the phone while hallucinating her physical presence. Nah, that’d be a bit much even if cell phones were around...

*narrows eyes because i’m facing towards the sun and forgot to wear my golf visor*

So Rena keeps saying Satoshi transferred and Keiichi keeps freaking out about the ambiguity of that phrase. Is Satoshi just in a mental institution and talking about it transparently is just REALLY TABOO? ...It is the 80s. Also Japan. Were there countries where that’d be way less taboo in the 80s than in Japan in the 80s? I dunno I don’t live in Japan and I wasn’t alive in the 80s.

So... Rena’s not her given name. There was that whole Side Story where, like, Mion or Toddler 02 or whoever it was, was like, “Listen Keiichi. It’s not a big deal or anything, but like, she’s not [whatever her given name was], she’s just Rena, it’s that simple.” And she never hates dishonesty or laughs (assuming there’s three alters?) and she always repeats herself, in scenes containing anyone at all other than Keiichi. So is repeating herself called “Rena”, and... not doing that is called...?

...Maybe Mion and the Toddlers really are super normalbrained. I can picture that being what’s up here. If this is Super Duper A Period Piece. If a major plot point here is “Didn’t society suck EVEN MORE THAN IT DOES NOW when it came to mental health, back in the accursed 80s?”

Keiichi “I’m So Scared Of Rena” Maebara is right next to Rena and just watched her raise an axe above her head, and he’s engaging her in conversation rather than mustering the additional 10% hidden in the 110 percentage points of strength he has... yeah, he’s definitely cute... this is definitely... Keiichi MOEbara...

Oh, nostalgic. Although if Oyashiro-sama is the perpetrator, I do hope Oyashiro-sama isn’t like that genocide person from Danganronpa. That’d be so hard in the opposite direction from non-ableism. In fact, given the disposition of a certain YouTuber, and the fact that they have a video about how they don’t dislike Higurashi, I doubt I need to give that possibility even a moment’s consideration.

Gelid is a nice vocabulary word. I feel like there must be other words also about ice that have the same root word, because something about the word gelid meaning icy feels so unsurprising to me, but... I can’t think of a single word that explains why gelid meaning icy doesn’t surprise me. Regardless, there’s no way I remember that the word gelid even exists 24 hours from now. Unless the fact that I just wrote this entire paragraph causes the word gelid to stick around in my brain like an unwanted guest.

Wait, pardon? Why are barrages of apologies coming up here in this Oyashiro-sama Discussion? If barrages of apologies are an Oyashiro-sama Thing and Oyashiro-sama isn’t a Rena Thing, was the opening scene’s apologizing woman whose unheard conversational partner annoyed Keiichi very Very relevant? WAIT, SHE HAD A CELL PHONE!!! Hmm... if Keiichi stole her cell phone, that would explain this entire sequence!

Keiichi, why would you steal a cell phone? ...Ugh that feels like the lead-up to my beloved Usopp Punchline from my One Piece posts, but Keiichi isn’t Usopp, so now I’m left feeling blue-balled.

Uh... okay, um, I’m gonna... um... I’m gonna file that away to mention later... since the rest of what I’m saving for later factors into what I wanna say here...

...could Keiichi really have been that bamboozled...?

WHEN RENA SAYS THINGS LIKE THIS SHE’S SAYING “WE’RE THE ONLY TWO PEOPLE [PRESENTLY] IN HINAMIZAWA WHO [PRESENTLY] HAVE MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES” RIGHT?! WHY THE HELL IS THAT! WHAT THE HELL IS THE PLOT OF THIS VN!

So if Mion doesn’t have mental health issues, and Ooishi is a cop, and Ooishi doesn’t realize Keiichi has mental health issues, and Rena has mental health issues, and Mion told Rena Ooishi is a bad guy who’ll cause bad things to happen to Keiichi, and they laughed like it was just a joke, but there is someone Mion hates, and it seems like it’s Ooishi,

I feel like that gif of the math swirling around the woman but all the math is replaced with rubber ducks and the woman is replaced with me.

Alright fine, if it’s going to come up again, I guess I’ll ask now. Is there some sort of “Normal Society” --oops you’re insane time to get exiled to--> Hinamizawa --oops you’re insane time to get exiled to--> Uh Oh, This Place Sucks pipeline? And Keiichi’s stated reason for why he moved to Hinamizawa is wrong because he’s been lied to? Why would there be such a pipeline? Especially since Hinamizawa is full of mentally sound people?

WAIT, IS THAT WHY THE TEACHER HAS CHARACTER SPRITES? SHE’S SECRETLY A PSYCHIATRISTEACHER? No one who’s not a psychiatrist would EVER have character sprites!! I’ve cracked the code!!

Afraid FOR her, right? They didn’t want anything bad to happen to her? Ugggh give me DETAILS

Yeah okay Ooishi has confirmed the boys were her friends. I already inferred THAT detail, give me a DIFFERENT additional detail!!

No witnesses, huh. Huh. Huh.

Ooishi and Keiichi are talking more and more about the incident. It’s boring so I don’t care about it. When I said I wanted more details I actually lied, details fucking suck. I’m moreso wondering why Toddler 02 told Keiichi it was good that he had a baseball bat. Rena told him it was bad. Mion told him it was bad. Toddler 01... hasn’t been plot-relevant since that moment. Why’d Toddler 02 tell him it was good.

Hmm, it’d be funny if there were some hilarious reason, like Satoshi McAlsoparanoid telling Toddler 02 specifically a way-too-sentimental lie that caused her to get emotionally attached to his baseball bat. Or... something...???

Ugh, alright, this was the other thing I WAS saving for later: Does Hinamizawa attract mental illness or cause it? Why the hell would it do either of those things? It seems to, though.

Oh... oh, the fact that the government didn’t care if their new dam was going to flood Hinamizawa... is that because they were like “Meh, who cares about havens for crazy people?” I can see why people would passionately fight against that rather than pulling a Ben Shapiro and selling their houses and moving.

*squints yet again and loudly curses my lack of a golf visor*

Ableism?

Also “Oyashiro-sama” is “Jailor for Hinamizawans”

If Hinamizawa is a glorified mental asylum and that’s secretly the real reason Keiichi’s there why would Keiichi’s parents be like “Well, now that we’re here, Problem Solved, and if he acts weird, well, um, not top priority right now, because Artist”... maybe Keiichi’s dad really is the worst most villainous character in Higurashi.

Keiichi thinks the connection between “metal bats” and “Oyashiro-sama” is No Mere Coincidence. Can I ignore this? I’m all overthinkinged out, and quite frankly I just think Keiichi is wrong sometimes.

Aww, man... Keiichi shoved Rena. Now I’ll never know why she was holding her axe above her head rather than having her arms lowered below her head like any normal person does with their arms. Well, maybe there’s no correlation there, actually.

Keiichi engages in an epic anime battle against a couple of guys and loses.

Keiichi is in a normal scenario.

Cough

Yeah that’s the type of doctor she called

100% Guaranteed

Rena says Keiichi didn’t have opponents and isn’t a loser. Hmm... half-right, Rena!

“felt like I was”

Anyway Keiichi goes and lets Mion in. For the first time, he actually has to say “I’m Normal” about the way he destroyed his house... Rena is like “Umm... yeah... I’ll make it Actually Normal a little later”

Hmm... yeah maybe if Keiichi has paranoid schizophrenia taking him to a Sinister Conspiracy Facility and then promptly Exiting the Sinister Conspiracy Facility was the worst possible move his parents could have made. To continue the running joke of blaming his dad, I’ll pretend his mom is blameless.

IS THIS AN OPEN SECRET??? ARE KEIICHI’S PARENTS THE WEIRDEST LIARS IN THE WORLD??? KEIICHI’S DAD TRUE VILLAIN THEORY 100% ACCURATE CALLED SHOT BY ME MOMENTS???

Rena says “foreman” and ruins everything

why can’t I go two seconds without a line being baffling? What do you MEAN “happy”

...

Oh. Oh. Mion and Rena’s mutual laughter isn’t the word-repeating one, it’s the laughing one. Duh. What kinda weird games is Mion playing? Don’t be weird, Mion, I’m trying to like you...

Hmm... yeah, I can see where this would be an instance of the slightest mistake-no-ordinary-person-would-make making all the difference in the world as to whether or not something could be perceived as sinister.

Rena... and by Rena, I mean the girl who repeats words, Rena... doesn’t normally refer to herself in third person, does she? I mean. Referring to yourself in the third person is, from what I understand, so much less abnormal in Japanese. And also, as I understand, something Gonta doesn’t do in Japanese, because he’s not a Tarzan-expy/caveman in Japanese. Or maybe he does? But if so, only because it’s less abnormal. I don’t feel like saying very much on the subject of Danganronpa though. The point I was TRYING to make before Gonta made the UNGENTLEMANLY choice to interrupt me was “Oh, is the laughing one saying ‘Rena’ instead of ‘I’ another hint?”

*watches Gonta cry while smirking, then hands him a business card that instead of my name credentials or contact information simply has the word “Golf” printed on it*

So I totally believe that Rena this orange-haired girl is restraining Keiichi, and Mion has a long and thin object in the hand that’s moving about near his face, and that they’re taunting him and ignoring his cries of anguish. I just don’t believe that the long thing object is a syringe rather than a permanent marker. I’ve actually been wondering why people always call Higurashi “slice of life mixed with horror” as though it isn’t obviously “Kaiji Joke Part X mixed with horror”, but I guess the Kaiji Joke Parts are actually a clever plot device so Ryukishi can do stuff like this. Also... kind of unoriginal, Mion. I hate to be so critical of you, my beloved daughter, but Get Creative LMAO.

Oh. Fucking, oh, that’s why she was being so unoriginal. Her unoriginality was also a plot device. I guess Camera’s death ISN’T common enough knowledge for saying this to be in poor taste, huh? That’s what the scene where people said his girlfriend must have eloped was there to establish.

Yeah I can just breeze past this whole recap of how Camera died

Wait was Mion not even a little weirded out by Keiichi saying “but the police didn’t find any drugs in his body”... he’s a freak but he’s not that much of a freak

Are there actually people who read Keiichi going “oh I was hallucinating” here 5 million times and don’t consider the possibility that he actually is prone to hallucination? Wait, that’s me 13 months ago. Unless I just forgot? It feels kinda obvious for me to miss. ...I mean, like I said before, hiding this kind of thing in plain sight can be effective, but.

Anyway, Keiichi finally notices that he’s killed Mion and Rena.

...Was the director actually going to be “happy” Keiichi was “interested in baseball”? For the same reasons Toddler 02 was? Different ones? Hello???

Wait, the two humans and the car that Keiichi engaged in anime combat with are outside his house? For realsies? Real? That just raises Actual questions!!

Also, if Mion and the Toddlers are the Three Token Sane People in this five-person cast, then the fact that there are four girls, four question arcs, and four answer arcs takes on a whole different meaning. What’s going on in this town that gives the ones without mental illnesses that much ability to be the central figures in horror-genre narratives...?

Hmm, okay, Keiichi is using a pen to write. Sorry, just planning ahead for a joke I’ll make later. ...Wait, I should actually say what he’s writing. A bunch of clues to the conspiracy he thinks exists. Which is the wrong conspiracy, because the conspiracy which actually exists is clearly more important...

He... stuck the “syringe”... to the clock...? Uh, well, I’ll, keep that in mind, for later,

Dang these “I know they were evil so why am I so sad that they’re dead” vibes’re kinda tragic from this Dramatic Irony-soaked viewpoint eh boss

Oh... and the vibes straight up do transition to “Wait, I didn’t know they were evil, what the hell is wrong with me?”

Keiichi leaves

One last apology barrage for the road

Is... Ooishi really... a normal guy who’s dangerously ignorant about this weird “let’s put crazy people where us normals don’t have to deal with them” town? What’s the deal with the town then, that the way it’s set up allows a character like Ooishi to be relevant in this story?

Ooishi really knows nothing, huh? This narration from his perspective is asking “Is Keiichi being attacked by guys?!” What fools allowed a scenario where Hinamizawa is the bunk way that it is and Ooishi knows nothing? No one thought that was bad? Mion seems to be capable of acknowledging that it’s bad, unless that’s multiple narrative misdirects.

Keiichi is telling Ooishi he’s only just now realized that the culprit is Oyashiro-sama and not any human. Has Keiichi achieved 100% conviction in the belief that he was mentally ill and not only were Rena and Mion not evil, but neither were any of the guys outside his house? If so, why is he saying something weird? If not, why is he saying something weird?

Ooishi asking Keiichi “PLEASE tell me which human it is who’s doing an evil conspiracy” is going to make me... uh, already used bang my head against the wall... already used die... already used drown... uh...

Oh, I was wrong about that previous apology barrage being the last one. ...I mean I guess it’s esoteric if you don’t know what the plot is. Except. No it’s not, even then? Yeah that’s pretty non-esoteric haha.

Why’s Keiichi’s age 1x. He’s 14 right?

So... it took this long, but the elephant in the me-remembering-parts-of-my-previous-readthrough room was in fact Keiichi dying in the same way as Camera. I guess I really didn’t comprehend the plot last time, because I don’t remember making the following theory: Maybe Keiichi, in his unfortunate state, had simply thought to himself “I know how Camera died, and I want to die, so I’ll just do the same thing.” Very inefficient, but it’s not like he was thinking clearly. I dunno man.

The real question is.

The REAL question is.

The REAL QUESTION is.

Why would Camera die like that? Isn’t he just some guy fr,

om,

elsewhere,

What was that scene where he was like “Yeah... I wish so badly I could live with you...” and Mion or whoever it was being like “He won’t succeed as an artist.” Those two lines weren’t right after each other but they kinda say a little bit.

Never mind then! I guess Camera dying how he did is a little bit consistent with my theories.

As for that bit of narration I said was “correlated with one of my biases”... yeah I have no idea what I was on about at the time.

Wait Keiichi got the bat “several days” before the incident and talked to his parents “two days” before? Is that right? I could read through my previous posts and check but that sounds like a chore. Pass!

Is this police report really from an entire police force full of people who don’t know that this place is some kind of mental care commune? Why is there an entire police force full of people who don’t know?!

Part of Keiichi’s note was redacte--

The “Crazy People Ought To Know What’s Good For Them” enforcer guys?! What’s this place’s deal!!!

Oh the permanent marker conveniently fell off the clock so Ryukishi doesn’t have to write “there was a permanent marker taped to the clock” in his police report and make his whole twist way too obvious.

Aww man I’m blanking on what the enforcer guys redacted. It wasn’t the presence of themselves and their van. Did Keiichi really write something that incriminating??? I only had the vaguest memory of something being wrong with his note, so I figured whatever was wrong with it must have been really obvious, and didn’t bother taking notes.

I like how the last line in the arc is “Hey, person reading: Figure out the mystery.” It’s not technically a fourth wall break, and it’s very Umineko. Or I guess I should say it’s very Ryukishi. Or, it’s very When They Cry? I dunno man.

Meanwhile, in Side Story Land...

Nothing!

Come back tomorrow for when I do something else instead of starting the second arc. I assume you already know what I’m referring to because why are you reading these posts if you’re a person with no familiarity with Higurashi???

#higurashi #when they cry #is what i'm consuming

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myevpoint · 10 days

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Benefits of Investing in DC Fast Charging Stations

The future without a doubt is electric because the increasing pollution which further has led to climatic changes has made it mandatory for us to follow sustainable practices and with this, electric vehicles are gaining traction swiftly. The role of DC fast charging stations is indispensable in order to support this green wave and with increased usage of electric vehicles, establishing efficient EV charging infrastructure has become mandatory.

Why Is Demand for DC Fast Charging Stations Increasing?

At first, only AC charging stations were available for EV owners but as these are slower methods of charging an electric vehicle, these proved to be inefficient for those needing quick top-ups and having to travel long distances. However DC fast charging stations add convenience by providing faster charging solutions and now their demand is rising.

If someone is thinking about establishing his own EV charging station, one must consider investing in a DC fast charging network, as people nowadays have a hectic schedule and nobody wants to get their time wasted waiting for the vehicle to get charged.

In this blog, we will discuss the benefits of setting up DC fast charging solutions for EV owners.

Why should you Invest in DC Fast Charging Stations?

There are many advantages and some of them are mentioned below.

Faster Charging: DC fast chargers which are also known as high-speed EV chargers are capable enough of charging a vehicle fully enough in 45 minutes to 1 hour. So, people need not to wait long for their vehicle to get fully charged. Besides this, while enjoying long journeys, EV owners can just stop at a restaurant or dhaba having DC EV charging facility and can charge their vehicle while enjoying their meal.

Enhanced Market Competitiveness: As the people give preference to fast EV charging points, so by establishing a DC charging station, you can compete with others and by providing state-of-the-art technology and equipment compatible with all the models of EV, you can attract a lot of customers, thereby keeping yourself abreast of everyone.

Higher Revenue: Besides this, this investment will also help you gain more profits considering the preference given by people to fast charging solutions. Moreover, AC charging stations can be installed at home also, so very few people prefer to go to an AC charging station service provider and because of lack of time, everyone gives priority to faster charging . Thereby, if you receive more people, you will generate more revenues. Further expenses of installing DC fast charging stations can also be reduced by using renewable methods of generating electricity.

Support for EV Adoption: Obviously, when EV owners would be provided with such great facilities, more and more people will get encouraged to adopt EVs, as such facilities eliminate range anxieties among people, making them confident enough to buy EV.

Investing in DC fast charging stations would not let you regret your decision, as you will surely attract a lot of customers, gain more profits and will be supporting sustainability. MyEV point charging station providers provide both AC and DC fast charging stations, you can partner with them also, as they ensure providing cutting-edge charging solutions compatible with all the models of electric vehicles. Partner with them today and get the benefit of established business models and their success. For more information, contact them at [email protected] .

#DC fast charging stations #DC fast charging #AC and DC fast charging stations

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3v3rl4stingbr4in · 8 months

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- Date when it is posted : 20th January.

➘. Welcome to Rung's the Arcana & Last Legacy & Touchstarved blog.

* Byf/Dni under the cut, hope this blog is not too long.

I. MAIN INTRODUCTION

✦ The name is Rung, you may also call me Brain. Whatever you prefer, I don't have any preference on names.

✦ I'm a minor Malaysian-Chinese Thai artist who does both traditional and digital art, sometimes video editing or graphic designing or writing as all of these are my hobbies. Eng/中文 are okay!

✦ Bigender Transmasc Bisexual Demiace Polyamorous who uses he/she/lo/sea/any pronouns.

( lo/lot/lotu/lotus/lotusself & sea/sear/seas/seas/seaself) If you need an example on how to use the neopronouns, tell me. I would be happy to help.

✦ As you can see, yes this is where I ramble and post about the Arcana & Last Legacy & Touchstarved only, probably some others if I wanted to. My main blog is @d34dbr4in. I am honestly afraid to rant about my thoughts here so please, bare with me.

✦ My tags : #Rung's Art, #➣ Rung's RB, #Rung's blabber

II. BYF/DNI

→ Before You Follow :

✩ If I don't post for that long, I'm probably busy with my own life or on another social media app where I am more active. Tumblr is still an app which I find intimidating so give me some time.

✩ I don't block that often on here but I will block whenever I want for my own sake.

✩ I have horrible times understanding the tone of someone's message so I will be thankful if you do use tone tags.

✩ Not to mention my English is still terrible so don't point it out.

→ Do Not Interact :

✩ Obviously, the basic dni here.

✩ I don't want anyone under 14 to be following me.

✩ I'm going to be 17 on May 29th. I don't mind anyone following me regrading age, as long you don't act like a creep.

✩ I don't mind slander of my favs but if you do that specifically almost everytime, just don't follow. I'm very sensitive to that.

✩ If you got anything to do with Dorian, out.

✩ Asra x Julian, Asra x Lucio, Muriel x Lucio shippers do not interact.

Here's some things regrading about me posting about the Arcana and Last Legacy :

✩ I use a lot of different pronouns for many characters besides the ones who are canonically comfirmed by the creators. Like example, he/she Sage Lesath, she/he Julian Devorak, basically a lot of these characters will also go by she.

✩ As you may know as the guy who drew Asrix (Asra x Felix), yes you will see a lot of crosspairings.

✩ I don't think I'll ever post any analyzation or writings of characters nor my fav but if I do, I'm just letting that thought out since I am scared to share my own opinion.

✩ Absolutely not a big fan of Lucio but I won't mention him often. If you like him, that's cool. He's just my least favourite.

III. FAVS & PROGRESS ON BOTH GAMES.

Favourites ↦ Asra Alnazar, Julian Devorak, Nadia Satrinava, Felix Iskandar, Sage Lesath

Progress on the Arcana :

( Grinding for coins before continue, going in orders )

Asra's route - Sound and Fury.

Nadia's route - The Lovers. ( Midnight Visit )

Julian's route - The Lovers. ( Laying Low )

Not yet started on Muriel, Portia and Lucio.

Progress on Last Legacy :

( Grinding for stars before continuing, going in orders as well )

Felix's route - Chapter 6.

Anisa's route - Have not started.

Sage's route - Have not started.

Alright, that's all I have to say. I'll update this like in the end of February.

Thank you for reading and enjoy your stay, also feel free to ask any questions or request or anything in my inbox.

#introduction #pinned intro

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lewiselder · 1 year

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dude your arm sucks!

we back!

it’s been about a year since the last post. i’m consistently averaging about 1 post a year. that’s a lot, right?

hope this blog posts finds ya’ll well. not much is different in my life besides everything. ralph has gotten ever cuter, sweeter, and nicer. random anecdote but i actually did some 1v1 sessions w/ a dog trainer, but ended up cancelling the remainder when i started to freak out and realize i loved his personality and didn’t want it to change. moral of the story: abandon therapy and become your absolute worst.

anywayyyyy - i’ve had 2 very arm-core things happen to me in the past few weeks. bad news for me is good news for ya’ll. i get my day ruined and ya’ll get something to read on the toilet in between actively giving yourself adhd by watching misinformation on tiktok for 90 minutes.

*whispering* actually, i kind of like when this crazy shit happens to me bc i get to write about it and feel ~special~ :^D

today, we’re gonna cover the first story. i hope to be consistent enough to write up the other story soon. no promises.

Dude, your arm sucks!

picture this, it’s mere weeks ago - fathers day 2023 - beautiful, scenic sunday weather. handsome clouds with chiseled jaws and just the right amount of buccal fat hang expectantly in a baby blue sky. i’m in a wifebeater with a mullet.

as ya’ll surely know, i grew up without a dad (as did most of my friends shout tf out to ya’ll) and so i obviously don’t do anything special for father’s day. on this particular father’s day, my friend and i were going to go for a nice walk with ralph, but first we decide to stop by the starbucks next to my apartment.

my friend runs in to order the coffees. i stand outside with ralph, leaning against the side of the building.

now i’ve heard a lot of words in my 30 years. i’ve heard them put together in all sorts of combinations to form all types of sentences. smart sentences, dumb sentences, long sentences, short sentences, sentences about crypto even. but i was about to hear a sentence i’d never heard before.

from out of absolute fucking nowhere i hear,

“dude! your arm suuucks!”

lmao

what

i look up from watching some instagram story of someone i’ll never see in person again for the rest of my life even if we both live to be 1,000, to see a tall, skinny dude standing next to me. his mouth half open, half smiling

i’m literally standing in shock, mostly perplexed and processing, my tiny golden dog who has some of the worst dog anxiety on the planet quakes beneath my feet.

“what?” i manage to spit out through a half laugh

“dude yeah man, your arm sucks!”

i stare at him like:

if i recall correctly, he introduced himself as Rick at some point during this interaction, so i’ll refer to dude as Rick (have you ever said the name Rick to yourself like 5x? that can’t be a real name. it’s barely even a sound. rick. rick. rick. rick. rick. yeah get fucking real bud)

rick: “nah man see that’s just how i approach life. we gotta just be upfront with one another and then we can move forward from there. like now we’ve addressed it and so we can move on”

PLEASE NOTE: rick was not as well spoken as i am making him sound. while this is largely accurate, i’m paraphrasing from memory. pls add in 70% more incoherence to whatever i say he said

and i gotta hand it to rick, he was hilarious. it’s awesome pseudo-intellectualism filled with ersatz empathy.

me: O_O

rick: yeah man like look, my leg used to suck

*rick pulls up one of his pant legs, exposing the lower half of his leg*

now i can’t tell ya’ll his leg didn’t suck bc it definitely fucking sucked but it looked normal to me, albeit gross and dirty

me: bro pull your pant leg down lol

rick: *pouting* fine, but im just saying now that we got it out of the way we can be friends on a real level

me: i don’t think friendship is in the cards for us man. bro i need you to keep it moving

i should mention that, while this is a lot of text, this is maybe 20 seconds of real life interaction, and at this point it becomes clear to me that rick is at least semi-homeless and likely not totally together mentally. this colors strongly how i interacted with him going forward, because idk man what am i gonna get into a fist fight with a houseless dude who is likely high or drunk rn?

sensing my withdrawal from the conversation and my waning interest in friendship, rick resorts to an especially strange move.

rick: nah man lemme get a real good look at it and we’ll get through this

rick bends down and puts his face maybe 6 inches from my arm, his bloodshot eyes wide as dinner plates

me: *recoiling* alright man see now im really about to beat the shit out of you if you don’t get the fuck on

rick (as if i just lit a firework during a fancy dinner party): woah fuck ok man, fine. trust me your legs are as big as my waist, i know you could beat my ass. but i might be able to out run you in a straight line spring *chuckles to himself* but obviously you’re a strong guy

at this point, rick starts walking away still kind of talking about how i look strong. he opens the door to starbucks and heads in. he’s their problem now.

mind you, starbucks is packed so it’s taking forever for my friend to get the drinks.

maybe 40 seconds later the door to starbucks flings open

rick is back, baby!

“would a cigarette make it up to ya?”

me: lol brother i don’t smoke

rick: yeah me neither *lights cigarette in his mouth*

we stand there almost shoulder to shoulder like old lovers who’ve run out of things to talk about but just like to enjoy each others company

rick: man you know what show my kids love?

me: what show rick

rick: inspector gadget man, you ever seen it?

me: yeah man that’s pretty old, i’m surprised that’s still on

rick: yeah they love it. you know who you remind me of? Dr. Claw. he’s the villain but he’s a badass. his arm sucks too.

me: rick...

rick: im just saying man like obviously this shit has just made you tougher in life man. you’re jacked man, i hope my kids grow up to be like you

me: rick, brother, its fathers day, shouldn’t you be with your kids

rick, speaking more to god than to me: *softly* it’s fathers day

me: i’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess their mom has custody

at this point it’s felt like rick and i have been on this island together for a fucking eternity. seasons have changed, wars have risen and subsided, babies have been born and gone to college and decided to hit the snooze button on life by then going to grad school.

i’ve literally had relationships shorter than this. not that i don’t enjoy talking to my old buddy rick, but man what i wouldn’t give for him to walk away, or for this starbucks to blow up, or for me to be assassinated. something, anything.

FINALLY, my friend comes outside with the fucking coffees

she walks up to us perplexed

me: alright man i gotta go now

*i start walking away*

rick: *smoking his cigarette that didn’t make it up to me and following us as if we’re all in the world’s worst band headed to practice together* aw yeah see now we were just talking about how his arm sucks and -

now i can’t have this fucking dude come walking with us, and i’d mostly been a good sport to him up to this point with the exception of when he tried to do a gynecological exam on my left arm

me, turning and getting into ricks face: ok i’m seriously gonna smack the fuck out of you if you don’t walk away right now

the 2nd threat seemed to do the trick.

rick muttered some random shit under his breath before finally using his formerly sucky leg to saunter off back towards starbucks.

good night, sweet prince

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I should say that at no point was I really going to fight Rick. He was clearly unwell, but the only way to really get him to leave was to threaten him. During the entirety of the interaction I was more amused and annoyed than mad (save for when he bent down and put his face in my arm).

It did however bring me back to a place I spent the majority of my time when I was younger. My experience growing up disabled was one fraught with the preservation of what little pride I had. When I felt someone disrespected me, the overwhelming sense of obligation to do something about it (fight them, argue back, whatever) was one of the strongest driving forces of my formative years. And to be honest, feeling as if you have to fight and claw for the sense of pride most able-bodied people get to inherently enjoy is a tremendously heavy burden to carry.

One of the reasons I so relate to people who have some type of outward presenting marginalized identity, whether they’re Black or Brown or disabled or non-gender-conforming or whatever, is because it’s such an insanely specific experience to have people come up to you and say the absolute wildest shit possible. And they expect there to be no consequences from their actions, which is such a motherfucking frustrating dynamic to experience. It’s hard to explain to someone who’s never gone through it.

Anyway, that’s pretty much it. I haven’t seen Rick since. I do wish him the best, as I know he had good intentions. And while him and I ultimately weren’t able to enjoy a Newport together like he wanted (but Rick doesn’t smoke), he did give me an interesting story to add to the collection.

All in all, not my worst father’s day.

if u read this far i owe u a cigarette

#Lewis elder #lewie armstrong #disability #lucky fin #one arm #st. louis #disabled

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pokeheros-drama · 1 year

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Nuggets and other strange things

'Ello drama blog! I'm back with your daily state of the union address... (oh wait, wrong speech.) Hello, mod. How's it going? Okay? Oh, you're still putting up with these people? Yeah, I'm so sorry.

AHEM. Anyway, it is I, AnonymousEconomist, back with another economic discussion. Yes, today's topic is #secretnuggetsociety. I'm sure you've all seen Yako's post about how they want to "start a Black Market for cheap Nuggets, and people with a ticket could join it, Like a secret society lol, I guess Nuggets prices are really making me think about this!" Heck, 68 of you all have liked the post at the time of my report.

And this is a very interesting notion from an economic standpoint. Let's first review supply and demand. Now in lesson one, we discussed the tax in the item market, and I basically explained the way around the tax was to actually hold your goods. As the seller, you want supply to decrease (so you have less competition), and demand to increase (so more people buy the goods). But in this scenario, it's a little different.

Now on pokeheroes, we have two benchmark currencies: the pokedollar, and the nugget. Their value is determined in relation to each other. As the nugget appreciates (becomes more valuable), the pokedollar MUST depreciate (become less valuable). Since pokedollars are infinitely more common than nuggets, a depreciation in pokedollar HURTS EVERYONE.

So the solution to regulation of the economy is for these prices to remain constant. The actual number is arbitrary: it doesn't matter whether or not the nugget equivalates to 1500pd or 2000pd. So long as the nugget price is stable, the economy is stable.

Obviously there will be some fluctuations. Riako may feel generous and sell nuggets at 1700pd, Domodoco may try to scam someone with 2000pd nuggets. All is fair in individual economic transactions. But the site has regulators for a reason. If Riako MANUALLY overrides the price generators in the item market, and affixes the "fair price" of nuggets in the item market as permanent, the economy would be in a lot better shape.

Here is my opinion of Yako's initiative: it is admirable, but it won't work. The users who have large amounts of nuggets are looking to trade them instead of selling them. Just check out the GTS... you'll see them offering nuggets for gems (cough, Bun-Bun, Nika~). And that's fine! But Yako will need to convince these people to sell their nuggets for pd in the item market. These users will need to take a loss on their profits.

Yako also needs to control 80% or more of ALL GTS nugget transactions. And they will need to do this for a month at least. At this point, those listings of 50 nuggets matter, because if they deviate from the target price too much, they can hurt the average more than a sale 200 nuggets on target. From a mathematics viewpoint, it's difficult.

It's hard, and users on this site are selfish. Besides, their club is ridiculously exclusionary. 500 hours and one year of PH membership... this completely discriminates against users who have quietly been accumulating their daily rewards, or those new users that splurge on nuggets with real money. You have to be accessible for all. It has to be a community effort.

Then of course, there are the users I mentioned in my first post who have a lot of pd to kill. They might just buy up all the cheap nuggets and resell them a month later for 2000pd. Yako is inadvertently consolidating all of the site's nuggets into the hands of those rich enough to purchase them. Even at 1500pd per nugget, a user has to have 75kpd handy to buy some. And bulk order nuggies are all the rage.

I wish I could be more optimistic. In my limited capacity, I have even thought of liking the post and helping the initiative... but perhaps I am too pessimistic.

@Yako, if you read this, you don't need to make the nuggets cheaper. You only need to hold the price within a constant from here on out.

I hope this helped, young economists. Keep educating yourself, keep learning, and stay sharp. If someone tries to lowball you, just say no. Unless you are part of the nugget black market. Then let the lowballing begin.

-Anonymous Economist

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jonnysinsectcatalogue · 2 years

Photo

European Earwig - Forficula auricularia

It appears I’m following a theme this week of common detritivore insects that are much appreciated in the wild, but aren’t so much appreciated by people. Honestly, these insects may be considered more worrisome and repulsive than Roaches, but any fear or disdain shouldn’t be warranted. While they may slither around as they move, tuck themselves into cracks and crevices, and while those pincers on their abdomen may look fearsome, Earwigs aren’t aggressive. They may look strange, but they’re insects so they’re bound to have many features that make them distinct enough to classified as an order. If you can stomach looking at them, there’s quite a bit to learn about them. One thing I’ve learned recently about Dermapterans is that the shape of a male’s pincers can be a precise and massive help for identifying which Earwig is in your plants. They won’t exactly be hidden as Earwigs raise their forceps to intimidate if they need to fight or defend. I’ve mentioned before that the pincers differ between males and females (curved vs. straight in this specie), but apparently across the order (at least in North America), female Earwigs tend to have straightened pincers. Male pincers are more unique and feature a variety of sizes, shapes, serrations, and curvatures.

As an example, the specimens here are just one specie inside the family of common Earwigs knowns as Forficulidae. If you were to examine another branch of the Earwig family tree such as Chelisochidae (the Black Earwigs), the differences in pincers become more than apparent. Obviously there are more differences besides that, but since the pincers are the most prominent feature - and what people seem to fear about them - they’re great to focus on. Moreover, there have been mating pairs of insects featured on this blog before in many formations, but what of Earwigs? Whether on top or back to back, wouldn’t those pincers get in the way? Not at all! The ones I’ve seen go back to back and are able to orient themselves so the pincers either stay out of the way or can be used during the process, depending on the specie. As a result, Earwig nymphs are abundant during the warmer months and they greatly resemble the adults. As with Hemipterans, the easiest way to tell (aside from size) is to look at the wings. If the wings aren’t full, the insect is still young. There’s a few nymphs hiding in the plants photographed here actually. To try and find them! Another hint I’ll give is that juvenile Forficula Earwigs start with shortened antennae, but gradually gain another segment which each molt until reaching 12 segments in adulthood!

Pictures were taken on June 10 and 23, July 6 and 12, and September 5, 2021 with a Google Pixel 4.

#jonny’s insect catalogue #ontario insect #earwig #european earwig #dermaptera #insect #toronto #june2021 #july2021 #september2021 #2021 #entomology #nature #invertebrates #arthropods

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devandahlcourte-work-in-progress · 2 years

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Section 22. 3 chapters, ending with chapter 82

I am reposting these first eighty-two chapters (in 22 sections) plus the prologue and the preface.

These posts will be the updated versions from my DeviantArt account, and since Tumblr may not display all the text correctly (it destroys anything I had in italics or underlined) I would still recommend reading everything there, on DeviantArt. They will also include internal links that navigate between the chapters on DeviantArt and will take the reader off Tumblr if clicked.

This came about because I noticed search engines were finding random sections of my book and displaying them along with some other people’s blog posts.

Okay, so that’s why I installed those internal links in each one… so that if anyone gets to a random section by way of a search engine and would like to read the story from the beginning, they can.

Only then did I realize that it wasn’t getting it’s search results from DeviantArt, but from old Tumblr.

There’s another problem at work here besides unrefined searches…

There is a new species of virus on the internet that likes to eat ancient Tumblr posts and barf them back up infested with adware - spyware - malware etc. The virus goes by names like TumGIR, TumBIG, TumPIK, or Tum(anything else but ‘blr’). The caps were added by me for emphasis so that maybe you can double check in case you’re not looking at an actual Tumblr post right now but one of these so-called “mirror” sites.

If you’re looking at this text through one of the counterfeit Tumblrs that I mentioned, then no link you click (assuming it even copies it with my links intact) will take you out; it will redirect you and show you all of the spam ads it wants to. So read carefully what url is showing on your browser right now.

If it is one of the untrustworthy ones I would suggest closing your browser window and doing whatever else you normally would in order to reset settings.

As far as my science fiction novel entitled “If And Only If,” the safest way to find it is by going to my Instagram:

@michelle.de.vandahlcourte

From there you can click on the link in my bio. It will take you to the beginning of the story on DeviantArt… the safe one! No malware.

P.S. None of this is Tumblr’s fault! It’s the malware/adware/spyware developers who are stealing people’s tumblr posts.

The actual content of this page appears below here👇

Section 22. 3 chapters, ending with chapter 82

↩️return to previous section, section 21

↩️↩️…and if you arrived here because of a search engine and you would like to read this story from the beginning, click here.

Madhvi

The girl caught her eye not so much because of her physical appearance, but just because of a demeanor that said she was in charge. The business suit helped though, she supposed. Only after a few minutes of shuffling around and trying to calm people down, as well as encouraging small groups of them to board the VSTOL-type aircraft, did Madhvi get close enough for a look at her face. And in fairness she felt that she should classify her as “woman,”not “girl.”

The experience was obviously important enough to record. She had one of her old deactivated phones and was running the audio recording app. Hopefully it wouldn’t screw up too badly and she could later make sense of it. In nail polish last week, she’d carefully painted on the back: $5000 reward if found, along with a current phone number & email for her and for one other friend who wasn’t in attendance at the Stalko-Taco conjuration of course.

If what she thought was about to happen did happen, this might be her only hope of “remembering” any of the experience.

So right away, photos, video, and an audio recording of the basics. And next...

“Woman like one of us” she realized.

And “Women like us” may tend to look like kids from a distance – just due to our smaller stature – for those of us who are smaller, and when standing next to large Americans. Average for our women was 152.6 cm and for men 164.9 cm, depending on which source you believed. So just a smidgen over 5 foot zero for the average woman. But did that extend to American-born (like her) Hindustani people with Indian expatriate parents living here? In other words how much was environment versus how much was inherited?

She caught her mind doing that measuring and categorizing mentality thing again and made an effort to purge it as she walked, also getting control of her breathing. The situation was curious. She was so thoroughly convinced that it absolutely positively had to be “The Government” doing this. But a young, barely college-aged woman, whom she could now be sure was somehow from the subcontinent? Her whole presence just screamed “not U.S. Government!”

It was VTOL and not just VSTOL, she observed as the thing took off straight up with no runway whatsoever – a white European dude who could have been Italian or related to Borat, but one who also looked like a casually dressed teenager, was piloting the thing. It reminded her of the Draconian Marauder from the late 1970s Buck Rogers.

The two who stayed behind with her also looked younger – like early to mid 20’s at most. She continued to catalog them: A South Asian man who reminded her of her physics lab TA back in San Luis Obispo, and the other a WASP-ish, short-haired male who could’ve passed for an establishment or government agent-type were it not for the outrageously short shorts he was modeling.

No heterosexual male in America since the days of Three’s Company, she was pretty sure, would choose to be sporting this look in public. And even if a gay government agent were starting out in the service, no way would the current (hopefully soon to be outgoing) administration leaders have allowed such a choice as work attire.

The “screaming we’re not with the government” thing could all be an act. They call it “undercover” work for a reason, Madhvi, she thought to herself as she finally dropped her zip-lock-bagged old phone into a crevice between some big tree roots.

Something about her opinion of government intelligence in general, though, just said “no way!” There is no way a bunch of left-brained code monkeys from NSA, charged with coming up with good undercover looks could pull off “hip young university students“ with this level of success. Rather she thought the result might be, at best, Anthony LaPaglia as “an undercover cop tryin’ to look hip.”

That, and her intuitive radar just told her to trust them. Especially the Hindustani woman. As she at last closed the distance, the girl... um, woman, looked so familiar. “Got it!” She recollected. “When we went to visit family in Philadelphia.” A second cousin on her mother’s father’s side. The mnemonic floating to the surface: a businesswoman feeding papers into an office shredder. Shred. Shrada. No, Shraddha! That was it; Shraddha. She’d only met Shraddha briefly during that week. This one was truly a dead ringer for Cousin Shraddha.

But it couldn’t possibly be her; her cousin had been in grad school in physics and already had chosen her specialty area within astrophysics when Madhvi was 12. If it was her, then maybe she’d met some aliens through the SETI program who’d provided her with a fountain of youth. But seriously there’s no way. This girl looks a few years younger than me she mused. It wouldn’t be her.

Time to introduce herself: “Madhvi,”

The woman’s shocked expression stopped Madhvi as she extended her arm for a proper handshake, and then it was her turn to be shocked: by the response that business-suit woman managed to stammer out.

ℏ♄

“It’s their own fault they’re in a loop. If they had gone straight back to the Puget Sound area to take care of business like they were supposed to, they wouldn’t be stuck. Furthermore,” the liaison officer droned on – how in the hell could a short being like him look up at her and adopt a condescending manner?

She wondered.

Moreover, he was just plain wrong; they weren’t necessarily “supposed to.” He was twisting the wording of regulations to make it seem like Prajina’s decision to go help Eric and Padmanabhan first was a violation of some procedure.

“...they are immortal as long as they are in that loop. There is no particular hurry; so relax,” he continued talking down to her as if she was a child. “We can literally take forever to mount our rescue operation and they’ll still end up back home, safe and sound, in whatever universe they want at whatever time they like.”

The captain felt it extremely difficult to avoid exploding in laughter. Few beings who were not from her empire of worlds had ever heard a member of her species laugh. Most who did found it terrifying and usually thought they were under some kind of attack.

She barely kept herself composed as she continued imagining him saying something like “good nyborg!”

The humans who drew that cartoon had unknowingly managed to do an uncanny rendering of the liaison official. Pudgy. Purple. Lumpy. Nose and ear tubules that were extendable, etc. She also resisted the temptations to tell him to go “snort” some more nyborg or anything to that effect.

After making it to the lift, and waiting until she was down to about the one-hundred-fifty-somethingth floor, she let loose her pent-up laughter and with that some of her stress. The humans’ art and literature and cinema was really starting to entertain her more and more these days. One reason the member species of the amphictiony had yet to appreciate much of their art was that they failed to comprehend how the human emotions worked. She was only a tad closer than her fellow citizens were to such a comprehension. And though the humans were perhaps a bit closer still, even they didn’t usually understand themselves. Which, in turn, factored into their art.

Going over Nyborg-Dude’s head would require contact with possibly two committees – only one of which contained a member of her own species. Even so, while telepathy with that being would be possible and make communications simpler, it didn’t guarantee anything. Since it wouldn’t be possible for either committee to get everyone needed for a quorum and thus to convene – not for another two thaumas cycles – and since she didn’t feel like sulking idly in her quarters…

A diversion through the office complex led her to Barney. The ICL lab could do probably the closest thing that existed to what ancient humans thought “divination” was supposed to be. They could in fact accurately foretell “the” future (stifling a mild urge to laugh again, she thought to her self how delightfully simple their worldview could be – as if there was only one “future”). Barney was in charge here. So while several other employees looked up from the work, they saw him escorting ℏ♄ through the lab complex and thought nothing of it. There wasn’t anything wrong with her looking into possible future outcomes. It was just unusual for a police captain to be doing it herself since it was more of a job for administrators.

She had previously told him of his resemblance to the Earth-kid’s-show character called “Barney.” Although he didn’t have the body of a dinosaur from mid-thorax on down, he understood what she was seeing. ɚ໘ᚣ፮ၕ, (name unpronounceable, even by ℏ♄) was used to going by nicknames since most beings massacred his real one, and had a sense of humor about the Barney thing.

Furthermore, his native language was very tonal and inflected. Even otherwise intelligent beings who would make an honest effort to read and pronounce all the characters would invariably get it wrong. Their mispronunciations, at best, might’ve sounded like they were making fun of the way he dressed; at worst it could sound like they were calling him some kind of creepy pervert. For the record, his name in fact translated roughly as: “stand-up guy who has always got your back,” and had been seeing a resurgence of popularity for baby boy names in their society for the last several millennia.

He also thought it was nice that the Barney character was sweet and lovable. ICL section-chief-Barney, as a being who had an actual dinosaur head, complete with dinosaur mouth – featuring a combined total of four meters of sharp teeth – as well as retractable claws that could rip through many types of metal, was accustomed to being thought of as a fearsome, violent creature. Other citizens secretly worried that he and others from his civilization could bite smaller beings’ heads clean off. This was an unfair stereotype of course.

Perhaps having people watch a loving, happy character who looked like one of his own kind would alleviate their preconceived notions. “We are civilized just like the rest of you now. We don’t go around biting heads off of and ripping sentient beings apart. Anymore. All that often…” he’d joked with ℏ♄ in their youth.

Although, upon seeing the Earth-kid’s show, he insisted that the dude more closely resembled his daredevil older brother ໘ᚣ፮໑ꏃ who rode with a plasma-jet-cycle gang back home and was always jumping over wampano bampos or some other crazy dangerous stunt. Since ℏ♄ had never been to his home world or even to his galaxy, she carefully examined the home video he was trying to show her – immediately seeing why the crowd of Barney-like beings was going wild and cheering Brother Knievel on.

Looking back it was to be the last time that day, or for several t-f periods thereafter, that she would honestly feel good about anything.

The “videos” disturbed her profoundly. Not the ones of Barney’s motorcycle stunt man daredevil brother who supposedly looked even more like Barney than Barney, but the ones from the “PC” department. Barney, the local supervisor of this precinct’s Probability Continuum Department, had done his sincere best to show her the whole subset of outcomes that get Prajina and friends out of the time loop they were currently stuck in.

And as she scrolled down to the outcomes that were, maybe, not so bad… she could see that the probabilities we’re becoming small enough as to be irrelevant. Just as the thought was solidifying in her mind: “Someone. Is. Going. To – – ” Barney interrupted with a look of... amazement? If it were possible for a member of a species with a dinosaur-head to look amazed, he certainly pulled it off.

“I am authorized to show you this, control freak, as it does not create a paradox that will influence anyone but possibly you. And damn! You should see the way you’re going to handle yourself when you speak in front of the Dimension and Energy committee next thaumas.” He grinned amiably while calling her “control freak” so as not to offend her. But she wouldn’t have minded anyway since they had known each other since their academy days – plus, he had taken her side in all of the incidents in question.

Of course she agreed that she’d like to watch herself address, and to some extent debate with the D&E committee members in the near future. She’d opted to wear her dress-magentas and not a regular uniform for that session; curious, since she’d left hers at home – leading her to wonder how she would go about getting… Never mind, she thought. Her speech was truly riveting as Barney had promised.

Her blood began to boil as she noted the laid-back indifference of some committee members. Barney asked if she would have liked the thermostat set lower and she immediately noticed the polymer sanitation bag starting to shrink and wrinkle up next to his desk. She’d failed to keep track of the effects of all the steam coming off of her body, and at once performed a quick meditation exercise which her family doctor back home had taught her to get her blood temperature down below the boiling point of water, to roughly what Prajina would’ve ejoyed for “coffee.”

Right as the “unauthorized future projections” warning timer came on, she watched herself finish: “The humans have an organization among them that adheres to a very important rule: You Never Leave A Man Behind. This committee could Learn something from those ‘simple creatures’ whom you so easily dismiss!” As she abruptly stood up to punctuate her last remark, her chair went toppling over in one direction while she stormed out of the conference hall in the opposite direction. These beings were neither in her chain of command nor in any positions of authority to influence the Temporal Constabulary, so they couldn’t really do much but gasp by the various mechanisms that their respiratory tracts allowed.

The unauthorized future projections timer ended and Barney’s screen went blank; evidently no one was allowed to see ℏ♄’s actions after she angrily stomped out of this meeting. She already had a pretty good idea what she would do. For Barney’s protection she mislead him a bit and said she’d be back the morning after the meeting to see if any more developments were available. She couldn’t let him get wind of what she’d really be up to organizing – because that daredevil streak his brother had also ran through him and he would want to help. That would make him an accessory and likely a co-conspirator.

Her next lift ride from PC analysis back to her room and the bachelor officers living quarters did not and could not include any laughter as she silently contemplated their possible fates. She kept her most serious demeanor, which those who worked with her would merely read as ℏ♄ going about her business. But inside, something else was building up.

“The” future. In their cinema a character called Lord Elrond tells his daughter “that future is almost gone now” when she asks about her potential child that she might have. This suggests some understanding of the time-tree; an attitude the deviates somewhat from their usual linear time perception. And the wise human Richard Linklater also outlined such a tree-like theory of time at the beginning of Slacker while talking to an unresponsive cab driver. So they were starting to comprehend.

Now it was as if a massive branch of the time-tree was being cut off and fed into a wood chipper. These ᢈᯒၔ᎘, or darkworlders as some humans called them, had a profound understanding of the continuum. They were particularly nasty adversaries, but they could, and would, be defeated. At a tremendous cost though.

Once in the billeting wing, she passed the room of the one other being of her species who was currently on base – a childhood friend whom she had known since they were at applied astrophysics camp together – without stopping in to say hello as she normally would. This feeling was overpowering her and chatting with ६ಌ⟂Ə (or “Jingles” as she was affectionately known around the 517th precinct) was going to have to wait.

Back in her quarters ℏ♄ replayed what Barney had shown her in the lab, analyzed everything with all her logical abilities, and came to the same unmistakable conclusion. All at once she started to make a sound which no other being who was not of her World had ever heard before. Much later on, when Barney time traveled to Earth’s past to help a skater kid named Keith, the kid remarked on seeing and hearing “the video” (actually an image that Barney placed in his mind telepathically) just how much it sounded like the end of Yngwie’s long intro to “Hot on Your Heels” from about 2:55 to 3:33. Barney then listened and agreed. For all the species present that night however, who had never had the pleasure of hearing Yngwie’s music, it was one of the most bizarre sounds they’d ever recall and would remain inexplicable for several more centuries.

Only her old friend Jingles reacted immediately: dropping what she was doing, darting across the hall, and entering ℏ♄’s quarters without knocking… To see why her friend was crying!

Hadar

“It sounds like kind of a generalized name for a doll that talks” she ventured politely while avoiding the word generic and hoping not to hurt her hig- her priestess’s feelings. “You were a kid when you came up with the name Voxdol?”

Her priestess carefully finished wrapping the deck in it’s special consecrated cloth that was only set on the table for readings, “I was 13,” Amber more or less absentmindedly replied “and obtained her name through a thing that I used to call scry-writing.” She was now lowering the wrapped deck into its box. Hadar had searched for one like it at all the head shops where Amber thought she might’ve gotten the thing – an engraved wooden box with an intricate carving on its lid of a standard-looking Rider-Waite-ish Lovers tarot card. There was nothing standard about that deck she kept in it though.

She had a pretty good idea of what Amber meant by scry-writing: get in a trance-like or meditative state, take a pen and paper, and without looking – let your hand(s) randomly make shapes. Ouija boards actually started out as a supposed advancement over a technique like this wherein the planchette contained a writing implement and the user’s hands would be guided over a paper. Then Amber surprised her: an intro-level book on Enochian that got mixed reviews in the comparatively small community of Enochian adepts, and one which Hadar hadn’t thought it necessary to bother with. Amber opened it right up to the page with the name of the angelic being.

“Oh, okay. The Earth-of-Fire Angel of the Calvary Cross.” Hadar knew that the letters didn’t have to be in order to represent (spell out) the name of the angelic beings in Enochian. So she thought she’d invoked VOLXDO.

“Yes Amber, you can re-order the letters. And on top of that, as long as you’re transliterating it into English and not pronouncing them in Enochian with corresponding vibrations, there should be no unintentional manifestations of anything.” Yes, Hadar reflected, the order didn’t matter as much. The gematria counted for a lot more. Supposedly John Dee and associates had deliberately scrambled some of the spellings to avoid accidental invocations. She always thought that was dubious.

But to conjure up a being like He Whose Name Is Annihilation, by accident? Rather, since Amber believed in assigning female gender only to all of the Enochian hierarchy in her peculiar practice, it was “She Whose Name Is Annihilation.” Whatever. The question of what gender they were may likely be as a irrelevant as going down a list of Spanish conquistadors and asking what was each dude’s favorite breakfast cereal. It seemed unlikely – the accidental conjuration thing. However, what had Timothy Ferris said in The Creation of the Universe about vacuum genesis? It’s not very likely, but then it only had to happen once.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“We are astral projecting! The entire Crannog!”

I’d only rarely heard that level of excitement from Ambe. This was bordering on glee. The things she saw gazing into cards rarely made sense the first time around to everyone else. After extensive explanation they would start to get it.

And it was unusual for Amber to use the tarot cards for divination; something that they considered to be a base or mundane use. The invocations were more important to them - the manifestations and outright spellcasting using the cards. For the most part she regarded the cards as magical instruments for making things happen, not as some kind of portal for viewing what might happen.

This reading was different. Ambraluxia had felt compelled to do divination in the early evening prior to their observance of this esbat.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Getting her thoughts onto paper. Or into a text file, better yet. Of course that was the problem that every creative had. “I think you may have something like ADHD, like Keith, but undiagnosed. Did you ever think about seeing a doctor and asking them?”

Hadar didn’t feel as much like she was walking on eggshells anymore with Amber. Obama was getting inaugurated again and everyone was taking time off to watch – she reflected that they had first met after Obama inauguration number one. Wow, she thought, it’s really been four years! Back then she would’ve worried about offending Amber; people throw around terms like ADHD in an unprofessional way, along with OCD, almost jokingly. As she predicted the Amber of right now was not offended and simply answered that she didn’t want to be put on drugs that would stifle her creativity.

Evidently she thought the ADHD drugs would cause her to go the way of John Nash in A Beautiful Mind. Hadar made a note to herself to look it up; she was pretty sure they didn’t work that way. The white elephant in the room that both were reluctant to talk about was rape of course. Amber really should have gone to college. The rape and all the ensuing chaos in her life had kind of stalled her. As a rape survivor herself, Hadar would not say anything to that effect- they both got enough of that from their families, friends, and even coworkers and casual acquaintances who had found out. The “snap out of it” crap. The “get over it” crap. The “time to move on” crap. Did people not understand that, over time when PTSD is left untreated, it gets worse not better?

She could’ve done well as a creative writing major. Or technical writing if she wanted. It was still possible some day; perhaps some online courses? Maybe starting out at some community colleges. Maybe a combination of both, just to get the ball rolling, rather than jump right into the circus of a bachelors-degree-granting institution or so-called four-year college, which Hadar knew would be too overwhelming for her.

Amber had so many brilliant ideas... Innovative ones.. but needed to get better at expressing herself. So that’s what Hadar was trying to be: college. She was trying to be Amber’s substitute for college.

Well, to that end, she read her synopsis of the notes she took on “Does Astrology Work?”

To paraphrase from that beautiful mind movie she led with “you realize this flies in the face of not only science but a few hundred years of thinking by learned astrologers?”

“I hope so,” was all Amber said, smiling wryly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next section will be posted later this year. Thanks for reading this far!

If And Only If

by Michelle Viviénne de Vandahlcourte

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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shouldershimmycity · 2 years

Text

It's Not Easy Pt. 4 (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Summary: You and Bradley were friends for years before you became more, and had to go through a lot of trials and heartache before that. You were always there for him when he needed you most. This is the story of how you grew to love Bradley, and how he grew to love you in return.

TW: 18+ (ish) (Smut, but I tried to write it in a vague yet descriptive way because I don't normally write smut; that being said it's pretty underwhelming compared to some of the stuff on this website so yeah) Swearing, Suggestion of self pleasure. (That's right, we're getting SPICYYYY). The fluffiest goddamn ending I have ever written.

Friends to Lovers requested by @iefitzgerald-blog

I hope you guys like it, please comment and let me know 🥰 I love reading them.

*****

The smell of blueberry toaster waffles floated into your bedroom, and slowly but surely eyes cracked open and you were making your way into the kitchen where warm morning light filtered in. Bradley was shimmying around the kitchen singing to himself, just in his jeans (which he must have slept in) and seeing him again made you happy. Although things had ended in an unexpected way the night before, you were content; it didn’t feel wrong.

“Y’know, in the entire time that I have both visited and lived here, I don’t think your family has ever not had blueberry toaster waffles in your freezer,” he mused, looking over at you with bright eyes. You could tell he was happy to have you around too.

“What can I say, it’s a staple,” shrugging, you took the plate he handed you, gratefully; and he placed a kiss into your messy bed hair. Smiling softly, the both of you sat to enjoy said breakfast staple. After a short moment of comfortable silence, Bradley spoke up.

“So… North Island,” he asked.

“How’d you know about North Island?” you questioned him, and he answered by tipping his head in the direction of your family’s empty rooms.

“Did you just go out there by yourself?” he sounded concerned, “what made you do that?”

“I didn’t go by myself, Maverick took me out there,” you stated casually, and Bradley stopped chewing for a second.

“Oh,” was all he could think to say.

“I’m still pissed at him for what he did, but that’s not my fight Bradley,” you explained, sighing, “I got you where you wanted to be. Mav has been so alone since we both left, so yes, sue me; I visit him every now and then. If you have a problem with it, I’ll stick you back outside and eat your waffles.” You snagged a bite off his plate, and he picked it up to move it away from you.

“Fine, fine. Yes Ma’am,” he laughed, putting his other hand up.

“Besides, I was actually answering orders,” you defended further, but goodnaturedly.

“From who?” he asked, then it made sense.

“Iceman,” you stated in unison, and Bradley smiled at the mention of his other uncle. He obviously wasn’t as close to him as he had been to Pete, but he respected him immensely.

“He wanted me to pass on our squadron assignment to you,” you shoved the final bite of waffles in your mouth, “The War Party in Oceana.” Bradley looked pleased, then he stopped, looking at you quizzically.

“Our squadron?” he clarified, and confirmed with a head nod.

“Ice kept us together, he said he didn’t want the navy to split us up,” you took his plate from him, and he followed you into the kitchen, “he also expects us both to be top of our classes in Top Gun, by the way.”

When you noticed how quiet he had become you shut the faucet off, and turned your attention to Bradley.

“I’m glad I get to stay with you,” he whispered, and you crossed the room to wrap him in a hug, and he kissed your forehead gently.

*****

Falling into your relationship with Bradley wasn’t hard. It was actually the easiest thing ever, and you both kicked yourselves for wasting all that time thinking it would be. There was no awkward stage of trying to get comfortable with each other, Bradley was surprisingly affectionate so you didn’t need to work towards that, and you knew so much about each other already. You just fit in with each other.

Opting to keep it a relative secret from your family at first (because you knew your mom would go batshit and assume you and him had been canoodling this whole time) you were happy in the privacy you and Bradley had. The only other person who knew was Mav, who was happy for you both; but of course he didn’t intrude on your life let alone your relationship.

Your introduction into the Golden Warriors that summer was smooth, and you and Bradley quickly became acquainted with the members.

Six months later, when a few of those members decided to go out for a few drinks, one of them began to talk about their… exploits.

He was going on and on about how many women he had slept with (and how many husbands he had angered) when he turned his attention towards you and Bradley; both of you were too sober to like his antics, having opted to forgo alcohol.

“I’d like to make Bradshaw one of those angry men, Knuckles,” Lieutenant Marshall winked, and you didn’t bat an eye. Neither did Bradley. When he strutted up to you and Rooster, he asked why he wasn’t coming to your rescue; to be your knight in shining armor. He was picking a fight, but he was picking it with the wrong person in the pair.

“You know why we call her Knuckles, right?” he deadpanned, and Marshall looked a little taken aback, “I’ve been on the receiving end, and I do not recommend,” he warned, remembering how you nailed him between his eyes months ago.

That was enough for him to back off, and you decided to leave; having grown uncomfortable with the atmosphere.

You and Bradley found yourself in a little diner you both frequented, a short distance from his old house, which you had both moved into. It was actually more for work convenience, but neither of you minded. He made a whole show of asking you to move in with him.

“Would you like to live with me?”

“We’ve lived together for the past few years, Bradley.”

“I mean at my old house.”

Of course, you smiled and accepted.

Bradley was quietly running his finger up and down your wrist, trying in vain to read your mind.

“Talk to me, Knucks,” he whispered, and you shrugged, not really sure what to say.

“He made me uncomfortable is all,” you reassured him, but he didn’t back down just yet. You had been a little off lately, and Bradley wasn’t sure why. He didn’t like to see you that way.

“No, what’s really going on?” he pushed gently, and you sighed.

“Alright.. I, uhm..” you fiddled with the straw wrapper, “I’ve been worried about… doing things… with you.”

“Why? Have I done something to make you worry?” he asked, wanting to understand. He knew you were referring to sex, but he never thought he had pressured you in any way.

“No, no! You haven’t done anything… It’s actually more… It’s more of what I, uhm… haven’t done,” you muttered.

“You’re still a virgin?!” he coughed, trying not to choke on his beverage, and you couldn’t help but blush at Bradley’s surprise.

“Uhm.. yeah?” you asked him, getting a bit defensive when the waitress behind the counter glanced over.

“No, it’s not bad, it– it’s just I never thought about it before I guess..” his face was incredibly red too.

“What? You never noticed that I never liked any other boys or went on any dates? Who did you think I was having sex with?” you laughed, and he shrugged sheepishly.

“I don’t know, I guess I never questioned it? I assumed that mayb- maybe you had a fling or something at the academy?” he was tripping over his words, and it made you laugh.

“No, Bradley, I did not have a ‘fling’ at the academy,” you cleared up, smiling at him, “I mean it’s a relatively special thing for girls, y’know. Sometimes girls just want sex, and that’s fine, but mostly I wanted to wait for the right person. Besides, it’s not like I’ve never done anything myself–”

As soon as you said the words you regretted them slightly, and Bradley smirked a little when he caught what you meant. You shrugged your shoulders as if it wasn’t that big of a deal, trying to avoid the inevitable teasing.

“What kinds of things?” he asked, a shit eating grin appearing behind his mustache.

“What do you think? Bradley?” your eyes met his. You had meant for it to come out in a “fuck you” tone, but the way it fell from your lips was not at all close. Bradley licked his lips a little, and your eyes flicked down when he bit his lip to keep his grin from growing.

“What do you think about? When you do it?” he asked quietly, honestly wanting an answer. The way your own eyes gazed back into his told him what he needed to know, and you could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife.

Him, of course.

The waitress was back, and you damn near jumped out of your skin when she piped up from behind you.

“Okay!” she began, “I have the burger for you, and the reuben sandwich for you!” she placed both orders down in front of their respective recipients, and you squeaked out a quiet thank you as she did.

You took the opportunity to change the subject, ignoring the way he made you squirm when you found him staring at you. Dreading the car ride back to the house, you twiddled your thumbs quietly in the passenger seat.

“You know I would never make you do anything if you didn’t want it or weren’t ready for it right?” Bradley spoke up after five minutes of uncomfortable silence, “I was only teasing, and I don’t want you to spend the next fifteen minutes thinking I’m expecting something when we get home,” as soon as the words left his mouth you breathed a sigh of relief. In everything else, you were so comfortable with Bradley, but this was just a hard step. It made you nervous.

“It’s okay, Bradley,” you assured him, “I’m just a little… embarrassed is all.”

“Being a virgin is nothing to be embarrassed about,” he reassured, and that got you thinking.

“Wait a minute,” you started, putting your thoughts together in your head, “When did you lose your virginity?” Raising an eyebrow, you squinted at him, and now it was his turn to be put under the microscope. When Bradley turned a shade lighter than a Rhode Island Red, you laughed out loud.

“Oh my God! It was her wasn’t it?! Did you lose it your sophomore year?” you all but shrieked, and Bradley nervously laughed.

Sophomore year, he had taken a mutual friend of yours to the homecoming dance. He had a small crush on her at the time and she was down bad for him. Bradley had been suspiciously frugal on the details when you had returned from your vacation, having been unable to attend the dance. At the time, you had assumed that they had sex; but as your own attraction grew it was pushed out of your mind due to jealousy.

“No, uh, it wasn’t,” he corrected, and you recalculated your guess.

“You had a fling then? During college?” you asked, surprised and somewhat hurt. During that time you and Bradley had been closer than friends but not quite an item. Could you really feel that way if he wasn’t yours at that point?

“What? No,” he was firm in his answer, and your worry flitted away as the two of you pulled up to a red light.

“Then when?” you gave up, surprised that you didn’t know.

It was now his turn to look into your eyes, and you put two and two together slowly. Your lips parted and your breathing was heavier now.

“Oh,” you whispered.

“I mean… We did stuff after homecoming but, not, y’know,” he said quietly, “after that, I kinda realized the only person for me was you, and I just… never did it,” he trailed off.

A car horn honking broke the silence between you two and the bronco lurched forward as Bradley began driving again, through the now green light.

“I’m sorry… if I made it seem–”

“Don’t be sorry, now you know and like you said, it’s not a big deal,” he answered, shrugging at you and smiling. On the way back to his house, you thought about all the times you had been alone in your bed at night; and thought about Bradley alone in his.

Thinking of you.

*****

A week later, you and Bradley had another free day. You had been busting your butt for the past couple days, and Bradley was going off on a short mission in a few days. The two of you decided to make the most of your free day.

You and Bradley went to get breakfast from a little bakery just down the road, and got some yard work done around the house. It was a relatively pleasant day for winter, and the two of you ended up sweating your asses off.

When you were done, you headed into the house to shower while Bradley cleaned up the branches you had removed from Caroles old garden. You and him had plans to replant it for her soon. When he came into the bedroom after his shower, he wore only a towel that hung on his hips. He smiled at you, with your wet hair and your own towel wrapped around your body.

Before you could overthink it, you had gotten off the bed and pulled Bradley down to you and into a kiss. He eagerly reciprocated, pulling you into him. You pulled his hand up to the place where the towel was tucked at your breasts, and he pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily.

“Are you sure?” his eyes looked so deeply into yours that you wanted to look away, but all you could do was nod your head, his fingers moving against your jawline as you did.

“We can take it slow, just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” he spoke gently, and you leaned up to kiss him once more. He pulled your cover away, pulling you close to him one more and you could feel him through his own towel.

He was so gentle with you, and you had never felt so loved in your entire life. The both of you were afraid to take that next step with the other, but once you did you were elated. You were made for each other, and the way he made you feel was indescribable. Finally being with him in a way that you both had craved for so long was all the more satisfying. It wasn’t bumpy or awkward because you were familiar, and getting to know each other’s bodies was only a small, new part of that familiarity.

It was something you would remember for a long time, the way his hands brushed down your bare body, causing you to shiver. How his tongue pressed against the sensitive parts of your chest, lips caressing them gently, and how he had kissed his way lower. Bradley took his responsibility as your first very seriously, even though you were his, too; and made absolutely sure you felt pleasure that filled your whole body in a way that left you breathless.

He had gone slow at first, not wanting to hurt you, and when you were finally joined at the waist, he ran his fingers through your hair; removing the pieces that clung to your face from the sweat and the water that still remained. It was a new sensation but addictive all the same, and asking him to move, you had pursed your lips to contain the sounds you were afraid to make. Whimpering from the delicate pace he set, he lifted his head from where he had been kissing your neck and Bradley’s thumb had come up to your lips, begging to hear from you; and you obliged. Softly, sounds of pleasure and whispers of each other's name fell off both of your lips.

Sweat dripped from his brow onto your chest, which was red with heat and you begged him to touch you. He sat up onto his knees, bringing one hand to rest on your waist. When Bradley ran his fingers over the spot you had waited for him to touch for so long, you gripped the arm that rested on your hip, and when you broke, he would mentally replay the sounds you made like he needed them to live. Your other hand came to rest over his where he touched you, holding him to you while you cried out. Frequently, you would find yourself thinking back to the look of pure bliss he had on his face before he pressed his head into your shoulder, crying out your name over and over; once the friction had built to the point where it was just enough to send him into the release you had enjoyed before him. When he lifted his head, his eyes were full of overwhelming delight.

When you ran your fingers across his lips, featherlight, later in the evening; he hummed, closing his eyes and kissing the tips of your digits lightly. The sun was setting, casting a bright orange glow across your face, and Bradley admired the way it made your eyes illuminate.

“You know, for someone who was a virgin a few hours ago, you sure knew what you were doing,” you chuckled before you could finish the sentence, the laugh coming from deep in your throat. Bradley pulled you in closer against his bare chest, kissing into your hair over and over and you settled into his body, feeling safe there.

“Well, I’m not gonna lie. Sophomore year I found a stash of dirty magazines in Mav’s house and I noted a thing or two,” he winked and you sat up, your legs folded underneath you and your hair falling around your face; Bradley tucking it behind your ear.

“Bradley?” you asked, squinting, and he raised his eyes to yours in response, “I will pay you to never mention that to me again, ever,” you were, once again, wheezing before you could get all the words out.

Sitting up against the headboard he leaned in to kiss you, something you gladly returned; smiling into the kiss. He pulled you over so that you were straddling his waist, and you cheekily ground your hips against him; agreeing with his body, which you had quickly realized was begging to go for a third time that day. The noise that came from his throat was half growl and half laugh, and you winked at him.

You could stay there forever, and if you had the chance you would happily take it.

*****

"Waffles!" Bradley was calling after the small golden retriever puppy that was lolloping through the warm grass, and having the time of his life. It was the next summer, and you and Bradley had decided to adopt a puppy when one of your squadron members was fostering.

You watched Bradley from the back porch, as he got down on the ground to pat the dog's tummy.

"He loves you, boy let me tell you what," you laughed as his little tongue flopped out from his mouth and his teeny tail beat against the ground.

"I know but he's just so cute," he cooed, and you frowned.

"Are you leaving me for the dog?" you asked, cracking from your fake sadness with a tiny laugh.

"Maybe?" he smirked and you put your hand to your chest dramatically.

"Bradley!" you gasped, and he scooped up the dog and made his way over to you.

"Can't I keep you both?" he asked, leaning in for a kiss.

"Hmmm, maybe," you mused, standing to head into the kitchen, "at least I won't pee on you, Bradshaw," you laughed, stepping back into the house and leaving him on the porch.

You assumed Bradley looked down to see his jeans now wet from the puppy, because you heard him cry out in surprise. Not two seconds later, Waffles moseyed on into the house. You were just proud that he went potty outside.

*****

It wasn’t until a few years later that you ended up back in San Diego, and having to leave Bradley for a few months was hard but not unheard of. You weren’t separated by squadrons, but deployments were a necessary part of life and you had dealt with it before. Bradley would be in the following Top Gun class.

There, you were a personal guest of Iceman at a few events outside of the weapons school. While it was fun, and a very generous gesture, it made you the target from some of your classmates. You didn’t care, you had brought Bradley back in touch with Ice, and he was once again, grateful to you. Besides, your flying proved your worth more than an invitation from an Admiral ever would.

Then came a day that would be full of surprises.

First, you had been called up for an in air exercise. Everyone who came down previously had done so within a short period of time, complaining about the exercise. Each exercise was kept secret until in the air, to keep the students on their toes; so no one could share what everyone was so angry about.

Pulling in to your left, you spoke over the radio to your wingman for the day, “Poker, do you see anything out there? I got nothing.”

“I don’t see anything Knucks,” he said, then excitedly, “Wait– tally two, one o’clock moving west bound.” The both of you whooped on the radio, beginning to pursue the aircraft.

“Good morning, Aviators. I’m here to collect my coupon for one dogfight, if you please, Knuckles,” Maverick’s voice chimed in over the radio, and you couldn’t help the laugh that filled the canopy. Of course. That’s why everyone was pissed, no one could beat Maverick.

Except you.

“Awww, Mav. Did you come out here just for me?” you asked sweetly, and you could hear the older man actually giggling over the radio, “You got yourself a deal, Mav. Fight’s on!”

What ensued was a wild chase through the air, both you and Poker against Mav and your instructor. You were constantly engaged with Mav, Poker making no attempt to interfere; opting to go for the other bogey instead.

Somehow, within a few minutes Mav was behind you. Bringing yourself every which way to avoid his weapons systems, you pulled high right, and brought yourself down behind him. You got a missile lock on him just before your own instructor took you out.

“What the fuck?” Mav’s laugh was shocked, and you were wheezing from your own seat.

“She got you good, Mav. I’m impressed,” your instructor pulled up alongside you, giving you a thumbs up.

“I want a rematch,” he proclaimed, and you just laughed harder.

“No take backsies,” you said, absolutely sputtering with giggles.

“No take backsies?” he yelled, incredulous.

You had far too much fun kicking Maverick’s ass in the sky, and when you came down for the day, you gave him a big hug.

Second, before you realized it, the sun had gone down, and the sky was painted with all sorts of colors. You and Mav sat in Ice’s office, chatting away when your instructor came in.

“Lieutenant, there is something I would like to address with you in Hangar B,” he stated. That was a little odd, it was past training hours. You had been hoping to go home and change out of your flight suit, but Maverick and Ice volunteered to walk with you; and everyone continued bullshitting with each other along the way.

The large hangar door was cracked open ever so slightly, and when you squeezed through, the two older gentlemen stayed behind. When you gestured for them to follow, Mav said they were going to wait outside.

Alright, whatever.

You followed your instructor's footsteps through the dark, and suddenly they stopped. You had no idea where he had gone and you stood to the side of the room, outlines of old aircraft hulking in the dark. One loomed next to you while you attempted to focus your eyes.

“Uhh, Commander Grey?” you asked, “I can’t see anything, are there lights? I’ve never been in this hangar.”

The lights flicked on, and a soft warm glow filled the large building as opposed to the industrial fluorescent lights that usually hung from above. You looked around, mesmerized by the many fairy lights that had been meticulously hung around the building. Three pairs of planes filled the room, one pair of F-4s, a pair of A-4s, and of course, F-14s. Smiling up at the old airplane, you looked around at the vintage navy memorabilia from the sixties and seventies that hung on the walls; taking it all in, slowly turning and spinning into the center of the room, when you noticed you were being watched. Your eyes flicked down to the man standing about twenty feet away from you, in the center of the hangar and of course you smiled because how could you not?

The boy you loved, who was all grown up now, stood there in his dress whites. He had always looked good in his whites, but he looked extra sharp on this particular day. His hair was neatly trimmed, he was freshly shaved save for his mustache.

“Bradley,” you smiled, happier than ever to see him. You could see the shine in his eyes from where you stood, and you began to cross the floor to him. That’s when it all clicked together for you: the lights, the set up, the uniform. It was a special occasion. Bradley took a deep breath and spoke up, making his way over to meet you; hands and lips trembling.

“Hey,” he said, grinning while wiping the tears that had spilled over onto your cheeks, and you laughed lightly seeing the tears in his own eyes.

“I haven’t been around to tell you how much I love you in a while, and that’s just a crime. Because I need you to know that I do. I’ve loved you since the first day of fourth grade,” he choked on his words, and swallowed before addressing you with your full name, middle and everything.

“You are the most amazing person I have ever had the privilege to meet in this life, and I wouldn't trade you for anything. You've always been the backbone of our friendship and you've always kept me in check when I needed it most. You have always been such a light in my life and if you’ll allow me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life loving you in every way you could possibly be loved and every way you deserve; I want to be that someone in your corner,” he wiped one more tear from your cheek and of course, he knelt to the ground on one knee, with his heart on display, “Will you marry me?”

You were both a blubbering mess, and if you didn’t know what a proposal was you might have asked him to repeat himself; he was so emotional the strangled question was hard to understand. You understood him just perfectly, though, and you fell to your knees, nodding fervently. Unable to speak from the way your throat tightened, you kissed him, bringing his face into your hands tenderly.

The both of you held each other, calming yourselves from all the emotion of the moment when Bradley pulled away. He helped you stand, pulling out an old box from his pocket, opening it to reveal Carole’s old ring; and of course you cried more.

“She told me to only give this to you… she knew… all those years ago and she knew” he whispered, pushing it gently onto your finger. It fit perfectly, just like you and Bradley.

Looking at the ring, the gold glinting in the soft light, you sniffled, and Bradley pulled you in once more for a hug and kissed the side of your forehead lovingly.

That ring would remain on your finger for a few hours, until you put it on a chain for safe keeping whenever you flew. Bradley would grow to fiddle with it when laying in bed with you throughout your life, and you would play with the gold ring on his own chain in return.

Years would pass before Mav was brought back into Bradley's life, but you would help him back just as you had Ice.

You would meet new friends, and lose some. Although terrifying at first, you and Bradley would have children; who would run around the yard and play with Waffles.

You had never expected your life would end up this way, this perfect, but here you were; and all because you had gotten pushed off the monkey bars in the fourth grade.

It’s not easy falling in love, but when the right person finds you it’s worth it.

*****

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