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wrienne · 1 year

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My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 13: New Lodging

“What’s happening?”

A male voice whispered almost directly behind you. You hadn’t noticed Jungkook rising and having approached you, and you almost bumped into him as you whipped about in surprise. You reacted at his shadowy shape instinctively, though fortunately, his reflexes were quick enough to get him out of harm's way.

“Do you always have to punch things?” he asked indignantly after he had dodged your fist.

“Don’t you know better than to sneak up on me?” you parried. “I gave you a nosebleed when we were on that Halloween event a couple years ago with our parents and you scared the living crap out of me.”

He furrowed his brows. “I don’t remember that,” he said.

His tone wavered only slightly, but it was enough for you to understand that the continuously rising fear he felt at not being able to recall something was tearing into him again. You pursed your lips, reprimanding yourself at your lack of tact, then shook your head. “I have pictures, I think. I can show you them later.”

“What’s outside?”

Your eyes narrowed in anger. “Paparazzi,” you almost spat. “An army of them.”

“Why are they here?”

“I’m not sure, though I do have an idea.” You went to your phone and made a specific Google-search with keywords like “Jungkook” and “accident”. You shook your head at the headlines that popped up, then muttered, “Your accident has been publicized. All the news sites want to know the juicy details about the Bangtan Boys’ ‘Golden Maknae’.”

Nobody had written about amnesia. Yet.

“‘Bangtan Boys’?” echoed Jungkook, raising his brows. “‘Golden Maknae’?”

“That’s your group and you, in respective order,” you said overly cheerily as you began pacing back and forth, trying to hatch a plan of action. You and Jungkook needed to get away from AMC as soon as possible, before more than just journalists would cluster the area. If curious individuals or zealous fans would start flocking there in addition to the press, you and Jungkook could be stuck for who knows how long. Not to mention, the two of you together wouldn’t conjure a particularly suitable image. The rumors surrounding you were obnoxious and annoying enough - especially considering the truth they once had posed - and now that he had cheated on you with Park Yi-Jae, you really did not want to be associated with Jeon Jungkook in any romantic way.

And of course, the most important part - the idiot was amnesic.

“Why ‘Golden’?”

“Don’t ask me,” you answered, perhaps unnecessarily harshly. “I mean, I don’t know. Nothing that rings a bell?”

“No.”

“Great,” you said sarcastically as you continued your brooding.

“Shit,” murmured Jungkook while peering through the blinds just as you had, albeit a bit higher up. He really had grown tall. “Why are they so many?”

“Didn’t I tell you this yesterday? You’re the biggest Kpop group at the moment. Everyone wants a piece of you.”

“It cannot be. I don’t believe it.”

There it was again. The fear. The fear of what had been, what he couldn’t wrap his mind around, what he didn’t know, yet affected him altogether. It flared stronger this time, changing Jungkook’s expression, voice - his whole demeanor, actually.

You couldn’t stand seeing him like that. Vulnerable, and so very alone.

“Get ready,” you told him as you began texting Jong-Yeol, then deleted everything you had written, deciding instead to call him. “We’ll be out of here soon.”

Jungkook looked at you, his features solemn. He had managed to restrain most of his dread, but you saw it brewing, struggling to break free again underneath his guise. And his eyes couldn’t lie to you. “Where are we going?”

“To our place,” you replied, your phone squeezed between your shoulder and your ear as you got into your boots. “My parents and yours are in Osaka at the moment, which probably is the reason why you haven’t been able to call yours. Though…” You frowned suddenly as you remembered what your parents had told you the day before. “...I think they might be within the borders. At least they were trying to find plane tickets back since yesterday noon.”

But where were they? Shouldn’t his parents already have gotten to the hospital by now? You might need to swallow your pride and hurt and call your parents later in the day in order to find out.

“Anyway,” you went on, redialing Jong-Yeol since he hadn’t answered you before the answering machine caught. “It also means we should have until Saturday to figure out where else you can live. Your parents don’t have a steady place in Seoul, right?”

Jungkook had been tying the laces of his brand boots when he looked up, a light frown tugging at his countenance. “Why can’t I just stay with you?”

“As much as it would make things easier,” you said, trying your best not to consider the sliver of warmth in your chest at his question, “I honestly think we might kill one another if we stay together at the same place for too long. Too long, meaning more than a day or two.”

“Want to make it a challenge?”

You regarded him closely, but his expression was unreadable. “Don’t want to sleep by yourself, do we?” you tried, curious of what reaction your taunt might produce. “Are you scared of the dark or something?”

“It’s not that, I--” He interrupted himself and averted his gaze. “Never mind.”

“No, tell me,” you insisted, though as softly as you could. You straightened and tried to catch his eyes.

He stood and inhaled deeply. “It’s just that--”

“(Y/F/N)?”

You regrettably had to hold up a finger to silence Jungkook. Did Jong-Yeol really have to answer his phone just when you thought you might hear something important about Jungkook, and from the source himself?

“I’m at Asan Medical Center,” you said as you turned away from Jungkook. “Could you be ready to pick us up outside the Starbucks just south from here? By the crossing you cussed out a taxi driver, who almost drove into our car? We’ll be there in ten.”

“‘We’?” repeated Jong-Yeol bemusedly, his tired voice immediately sharpening. “What ‘we’?”

“Jungkook and I,” you said while shrugging on your jacket. “The media have gotten hold of the accident and are just outside the hospital doors. We need to get him home, unseen, before the situation worsens”.

“Got it,” he said. “But I hope you’ve spoken to your parents about this.”

“Of course,” you lied.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

After gathering all your stuff, you went to discharge Jungkook at the front desk with help of the documents you had signed yesterday. You asked the nurse or administrator - or whatever her job title was accurately called - where you could find a more discreet way out of the hospital. She wouldn’t help you, eyeing Jungkook suspiciously, and the two of you found yourself stuck in the waiting room of AMC. You considered finding Doctor Lee, but found that her working hours ran from midday to late evening that day from a passing nurse. It wasn’t until you returned from a quick bathroom visit when you ran into the cleaning lady, who had kindly helped you dispose of Jungkook’s fried chicken. She helped you and Jungkook get out of a staff-only door at the side of the building, and you thanked her dearly. Soon you found yourself jogging down the street toward the Starbucks you had in mind, away from Asan Medical Center, with Jungkook by your side.

“Where’s your jacket?” you suddenly wondered as you noticed Jungkook wearing only the clothes you had brought him. It was really cold outside, probably below zero degrees Celsius, and you saw his skin pale in the chilly atmosphere.

“I don’t know,” he said. Both of your breaths escaped in white puffs. “Amnesic, you know.”

“I would have offered mine,” you began, “but it’s probably a bit small.”

“No, keep it,” said Jungkook in a neutral tone. “I wouldn’t want you to get a cold because of me.”

You snorted, even though you felt your heart rate increase. Though that might simply be because you were exercising, an act you tried to convince yourself to do more often. “What a gentleman.”

“Anything for you,” he said sarcastically, though a slight smile blunted the impact his tone would have had.

Even though you were aware that it was a joke of the simplest, most basic nature, you couldn’t help but smile back. And though it should have felt wrong, so very wrong in all kinds of ways, it didn’t. You didn’t know what that meant.

But he really shouldn’t say things like that.

You had spent your whole life in the heart of Seoul, and knew it well enough even around Asan Medical Center to be able to find the Starbucks. Also, in an emergency case, there was something as easy as Google Maps. Jong-Yeol found the two of you freezing by the time he arrived outside the shop, four minutes after you. You had offered Jungkook your gloves and a scarf you had stuffed into your purse, but it hardly helped against Seoul’s relentless winter gales. He was still pale and shivering in the car, though by the time you two reached your parents apartment, he at least didn’t look like a corpse anymore.

“I need to shower,” said Jungkook immediately as he took off your gloves and the scarf and placed them on a tiny bench you had in the hall. “I feel disgusting.”

“Be my guest,” you said while taking off your jacket and boots.

“I--”

“The first door to the left,” you told him.

Jungkook chuckled. “You waited for that,” he said.

“Not at all.” You saw a pile of canvas bags with his shoes and the body bag you had stuffed with his clothes occupy the hallway. You had instructed Jong-Yeol to merely dump them at your place yesterday, and now you needed to figure out where to put it all. Your parents apartment was expensive, needlessly expensive to be fair, and though it was spacious, it only had two bedrooms. When your parents had bought the place two years ago, the other two bedrooms had been refurnished and remodeled at your parents command into an extra office space and a relaxation room for your mother.

While pondering where Jungkook could put his stuff, you hadn’t noticed him not moving for a while. It wasn’t until he murmured something that you found him staring at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors lining the western wall of the hallway.

“Is this really me?”

Jungkook was touching his face hesitantly, his brown, familiar eyes rounding in surprise as his fingers trailed the shape of his mouth, cheekbones, forehead and finally, jawline. He blinked, hard, but seemed just as surprised as before when he spotted his reflection. You couldn’t even imagine how it must have felt, seeing oneself after five years of blankness. He had grown up to be a good-looking guy, you couldn’t lie about that. And his years within the appearance-obsessed music industry had made him take extra care of his looks, melding him into the lean, beautiful youth you had witnessed on stage the day before yesterday.

You fleetingly wondered how it felt to touch his face.

“Yeah,” you then replied nonchalantly, approaching him. You managed to stop from blushing, but only barely by the time his gaze darted to you as you slowly entered his line of sight. “You grew up to become really ugly. Sorry - oh, and welcome to the club.”

“At least I have a big nose,” he said with a smile as he checked his profile. “And I grew.”

“You’ve always had a big nose,” you said, then frowned. “Didn’t you go to the bathroom even once in the hospital? How could you not have seen yourself before this?”

“They were changing the mirrors, I think,” he said. “All of them were removed.” He pulled slightly at his cheeks, and then his earlobes, which were adorned with silver earrings. “I didn’t think I would look like this when I grew up.”

“You can admire yourself later,” you told him, moving past him to get to the kitchen. The screen on the microwave said 6:19, which was around the normal time you rose every morning. “Get out of the shower in eight and I might have some oatmeal to share with you.”

“Oatmeal? Really?” You heard his smile bleed into his voice. “How old are you?”

“The same age as you,” you said grumpily as you rummaged your cupboards for the necessary ingredients. “Which means, if it’s sufficient for me, it’s sufficient for you.”

“Not really. But since you’re making me breakfast, I guess I have no choice but to humbly agree.”

You snorted. “That’s right.”

You thought you heard him chuckle again as he disappeared into the bathroom. Abruptly, you realized you hadn’t seen him smile, least of all heard him chuckle with you… ever. Okay, that might be a bit of a cruel estimate, but you frankly couldn’t conjure to mind the last time he hadn’t been absolutely infuriating or just straight up rude to you. As much as you hated to admit it, a small part of you couldn’t help but like the amnesic version of Jeon Jungkook more than his real self.

The self where he had cheated on you.

You were done with the oatmeal and had poured up some juice for both of you by the time you heard the bathroom door unlock. You placed each of your servings onto the island overhang and was just about to sit on the bar stool closest to you when you heard naked feet pad into the kitchen.

You frowned. When had Jungkook had the time to change? And how did he know his clothes were in the body bag?

“How did you know--” you began as you glanced over your shoulder.

And then you choked.

Because Jeon Jungkook had just walked into your kitchen - practically naked.

#MCAF #Ao3 #Wrienne #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts jungkook

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theretirementstory · 2 years

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Bonjour tout le monde, it is 14c, mainly cloudy but at least I can see the colline, yesterday morning it was shrouded in mist!

I managed to “top up” the composter, but never got the cuttings from the coleus. I have now removed the final tomato plant from outside, turned the soil in the potager, laid a large piece of cardboard on top, then some plastic mesh (attempts to deter cats using it as their toilet) after that I lifted some of my potted plants onto the mesh, it means they are altogether for the winter and I can keep an eye on them. I need to think of the best place to site the hibiscus and consider buying some fleece to protect it. Still got time to ponder that.

I managed the video call with friends in Bristol, it was not without problems and we had to resort to WhatsApp, but we caught up and that was great.

Browsing through Autumn poetry I came across this one from Robert Louis Stevenson “Autumn Fires” here is an excerpt,

“Sing a song of seasons!

Something bright in all!

Flowers in the summer,

Fires in the fall!

Seeing the word “fall” used to describe autumn surprised me here, but a quick “google” confirmed it is not an “Americanism” but a good old English name for autumn (both of which emigrated to America).

School holidays have started here and in the UK. Here it is a two week break……. I imagine a lot of “artisans” are taking breaks now. I am saying this, as I woke up on Friday morning to a plink plink sound, I knew immediately, water was coming in the dining room ceiling yet again!!! It only happens when the wind is blowing in from the SSW! I rang the man who had “fixed” the problem twice before, his wife said she would tell him at lunchtime! I then rang another guy to come out and give me a quote, he said something along the lines of he would call me ( better not hold my breath). I am thinking that for the foreseeable future I will be living with furniture pulled away from the wall and a bucket having pride of place on my unit!!

Appointments have been made for the next round of tests, plus I managed to get a “bon de transport” for my journey to Nancy. I am still awaiting news on the Carte Vitale front but it has been just over one week since I had my meeting with the lady from CPAM.

I “bit the bullet” and went into Entraide to see about having a lady come to clean for me. Just going to have her a couple of hours a week to see how it goes.

My gorgeous grandchildren…… grandson has had the old runny nose, feeling unwell thing again this week, he hasn’t felt like eating and poor little man has looked so glum! His sister started her school holiday on Thursday evening and apparently she woke up crying because she wanted to go to school! Oh bless her, “The Daddy” said he thought it was because she was not going to see her friends.

I called at the bar yesterday afternoon for a coffee and read Thursday and Fridays papers. The group campaigning about the closure of the cinema in town, held a meeting in a nearby village so as not to antagonise the Mayor of Bar-sur-Aube, I don’t know what good it will do, I imagine while he is in office the dispute will never be resolved.

“The Paralegal” had a break from “visiting duties” but still had jobs to do for the patient. He was unable to visit due to Covid on the wards. He is also hoping for good news, on his current project, over the next few weeks, fingers crossed.

It has been a week of phone calls and text messages, looking out for a birthday gift for a November birthday and thinking about writing Xmas cards……

Oh and maybe you could ponder this too! My local supermarket has only had full fresh milk for well over a fortnight, now where is the semi-skimmed milk? Does anyone know and more importantly does anyone care?

I am going to iron my bedding, bake a cake and then make lunch. The slow cooker recipe book is catching my attention but I won’t be reading it until this afternoon!

Jusqu’à la semaine prochaine

#nature #trees #photography #autumninaube #baking #poetry #skies #goodfriends

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beardedcollectorluminary · 1 year

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xmystophalesx · 2 years

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Best New Heavy Metal Releases Week of July 29, 2022

This was a bit of a lackluster week. There were definitely standout albums this week but the amount of albums I listened to that simply weren’t good enough to make the list was insane. Hey, they can’t all be winners. This was basically the musical equivalent of a foul tip in baseball. I won’t belabor the point as this blog tries to be more about positivity and although there wasn’t an avalanche of incredible albums, there were still more than a few that deserve attention, so let’s get to those.

Belphegor-The Devils (Black)**

I have been looking forward to this album for a couple months now as the flood of amazing Black Metal albums we had last year kind of spoiled us and this year has been more balanced. I feel this album sees Belphegor trying to be a bit more accessible. Now take that with a grain of salt as accessible for Belphegor is not what most people consider accessible. If you didn’t like Black Metal before, this is certainly not changing your mind. This is still dark and evil as fuck sounding, but maybe in a “nicer” way?

Battlegrave-Cavernous Depths (Thrash)**

This band is angry. I mean, that’s not surprising coming from the Heavy Metal genre. Forget ramping up to 11. These boys are already at 14 on the dial. This is Thrash Metal, but not the clean kind that you would expect from Metallica or Megadeth. This is fast, dirty, angry punch your neighbor in the face Thrash Metal. Think 1986 era Kreator with a more modern feel and production that can cave in your chest.

Madhouse-Down ‘N’ Dirty (Hard Rock/Glam)**

I will admit, when I come across a band trying to rekindle the flames of the Glam/Hair Metal of the 1980s, I am more than a little hesitant going into it. Not because I don’t like the genre but it almost always comes off sounding like a bad “Iron Eagle” movie soundtrack. If you get that reference, you know exactly what I am talking about but if you don’t, it’s not a compliment. That being said, Madhouse has legitimately put out a killer album. Catchy songwriting with equal parts attitude and the musical chops to pull it off. Is it a ripoff to the 1980s? Maybe. When it is done this incredibly well, you won’t care. So let’s just call it an homage to a bygone era.

Mutharoad-Midnight Stalker (Heavy)**

I love that classic metal sound, and the debut album from this band has that sound in spades. If you put Primal Fear, U.D.O., Iron Savior, Gamma Ray and a touch Of Edguy and Avantasia, you would get this album. From start to finish, these influences are worn openly and proudly on their sleeves and it just makes for a very enjoyable album.

Wrath Prevails-Calamitas (Melodic Death)**

Well, damn, this band has been insanely busy. I came across this and was super impressed so I checked out some background info on the band. Head to the super handy Metal Archives (greatest metal site on the internet, by the way). This is their third album in 10 months. That is simply fucking insane. Not just to have that much material in such a short time, but to have it actually be good is another thing altogether. Some excellent Melodic Death Metal but with a decided US flavor. Leaning a bit more melodic than your Scandinavian variety. Check these guys out and hurry. They probably released another album as I was typing this up.

Silentend-Neverending War (Thrash)**

I normally try to keep the highlight section and what I write about to 5 albums but this album came in right at the end and I just couldn’t NOT talk about it. I like all genres of metal but gun to my head, Thrash will be my number one choice. The aggressive nature without losing melody and groove is something I will love until the day I cast off this mortal coil. This band does this exact thing and does it EXTREMELY well. Killer riffs with tons of variety. Don’t like the riff? Wait a minute, they will change it. Where Battlegrave had the anger and never let it slow down for the entire length of the album, Silentend lets their songs breathe a bit. If the comparison for Battlegrave is Kreator, the comparison for Silentend would be Artillery with a bit of Flotsam and Jetsam mixed in.

That will do it for this week. Until next week and, as always,

BANG THY HEAD!!!

All worthy of a listen if you like the genre

*= standout in that genre

**=best of the week regardless of genre

Axis Mx-Unholy Resurrection (Thrash)

Compass-Theory of Tides (Hard Rock/Progressive)*

The Bateleurs-The Sun in the Tenth House (Hard Rock/Blues)*

Iconic-Second Skin (Hard Rock/Heavy)*

Belphegor-The Devils (Black)**

Battlegrave-Cavernous Depths (Thrash)**

Darkside of Humanity-Brace for Tragedy (Technical Death)*

Shroud of Bereavement-A beautiful Winter (Doom/Atmospheric)

Dusk Chapel-Astrophysics and Abnormal Activities (Progressive Death)

Abaddon Incarnate-The Wretched Sermon (Death/Grindcore)*

Crystal Gates-Torment & Wonder : The Ways of the Lonely Ones (Power)

Prosper or Perish-Shroud of Serpents (Melodic Death)**

Rise as Legends-Our Fallen Empire (Melodic Death)

Warwolf-Necropolis ;Heavy/Traditional)**

Krisiun-Mortem Solis (Death)*

Katakomba-Katakomba (Death)

Grima-Frostbitten (Atmospheric Black)*

Daidalos-The Expedition (Symphonic Black)

Gathering of Kings-Enigmatic (Hard Rock)*

Madhouse-Down ‘N’ Dirty (Hard Rock/Glam)**

Raptore-Blackfire (Heavy/Traditional)*

ArseA-Order of Mantis (Heavy Progressive)*

Reeking Aura-Blood and Bonemeal (Death)

Silentend-Neverending War (Thrash)**

Rose Rose-Unseen Terror (Thrash/Crossover)*

Dark God-Slaughter All (Thrash/Death)

Beyond the Gallows-Perpetual Misanthropy (Melodic Death)

Mutharoad-Midnight Stalker (Heavy)**

Destruction of the Healer-Let the Earth Reclaim Me (Melodic Death)*

Imperium-Ex Morris Gloria (Technical Death)*

Fogos-Corpses and Ashes (Black)*

Wrath Prevails-Calamitas (Melodic Death)**

Pick of the Week is Battlegrave with 4.5 “it’s good to own land” bulldog looks out of 5.

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nikadoesanart · 3 years

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Dazai living in a shipping container analysis

I’ll be talking about the “pros” and “cons”, if you can even call them that, of Dazai living in a shipping container near a dumping site. Also I am using what architecture knowledge I do have on the subject of container homes.

This is on the longer side so brace yourself. Also Stormbringer spoiler warning, in case that wasn’t realized yet.

Before I actually start I’ll preface this by saying that I’m a former architecture student but it was with a design focus. I have also previously designed a shipping container home so although I have some knowledge, it does have its limitations.

Also this will be updated when the fan translations get to this part of Stormbringer. Currently, I’m getting the information from chazukekani and popopretty’s summaries and translations, so please check them out too!

As a general reference for what to expect of a shipping container home, the average shipping container is 8 x 20 ft or 8 x 40 ft. As a more visual example, here is a portion of the container house I designed. Note that it’s total length is 30ft because I have two 20ft long containers stacked on top of each other, with a 10ft offset. The space beyond the sliding doors is a balcony and can basically be ignored for the purpose of this analysis. With the pictured dimensions, you can consider it to be insulated from the outside, so as not to sacrifice internal space. Despite this, you can see that it feels fairly cramped even with minimal furniture (a sink, toilet and shower unit in the bathroom and a bed, desk, and wardrobe closet in the master bedroom).

Dazai’s current living arrangement

Now for comparison, let’s first take note of what’s known of Dazai’s living conditions for comparison.

he’s living in an illegal dumping site, and there are toxic substances coming from the ground because of this

“Not even a field mouse would dare to approach it.” (Popopretty)

the area is not on the map and Dazai lives near the center of it (which can easily be one of the worst parts in terms of health and safety)

the container was previously “used to export passenger cars overseas” (popopretty)

his only furniture is a fridge, (exhaust) fan, desk/table, a chair, and a bare light bulb

no one would approach “not just because the place itself was weird. It was because no one could predict how Dazai would react if someone approached his private residence.” (Popopretty)

it’s been a year since he’s joined, yet no one trusts him → he could’ve been living here since before he joined but we don’t know as of yet

he’s sitting in complete darkness, lightbulb off and door shut, until Verlaine opens the door and walks in

Verlaine asks if he’s living here because he’s afraid of property taxes but Dazai claims that he’s afraid of Verlaine. He’s not actually addressing his choice of location because he only corrected Verlaine on what he fears, and gives no actual explanation for why he chose to live here.

The “pros”

Naturally unapproachable location. Even if Dazai being PM Dazai wasn’t a factor in people staying away, the nearby smell alone means no one would normally approach it, much less suspect a Port Mafia executive of all people to be living there. It’s also unmapped territory so even less reason for him to be found. This means enemies and allies alike would have a more difficult time trying to find him (ie. to come for his life) and there’s unlikely to be anyone else around. After all, if even a mouse won’t go there why would a whole person live there?

It costs him nothing. Not that it’d make a difference with what we can assume of his financial wealth. He has money, likely more than Chuuya who lives in a nice apartment in a nice area, yet chooses to live in a shipping container in an illegal dumping site. This is beneficial for Dazai, since there’s no paper trail or record of where he lives, which goes right into my 3rd point.

Ease of abandonment. Considering his whole goal at the time is to off himself without troubling others in the process, it makes sense that he’d want to leave minimal traces behind. No unpaid rent or mortgage, no one on a waiting list to move into a nice place, and no personal belongings or attachments. This winds up being a pro/advantageous when he does leave the PM since there wasn’t a trace to follow him with in the first place. He can simply grab his few things of importance and find a new shipping container or abandoned building outside of the PM’s territory. In fact, he might’ve even been able to stay there or in that general area since no one dares to approach it in the first place.

The “cons”

Or should I say say the dangerous living conditions he’s in. I don’t find them surprising because again, he doesn’t have a long term plan to live at this point. He doesn’t have much reason to care about what happens to himself, as we can deduce from his overall disregard towards being constantly injured and in danger for example. This is also where the architectural stuff comes into play.

Let’s start with the most visible one, lack of insulation. With a shipping container home, you can insulate from the inside and lose about a foot of interior space in each direction (6 in. off each wall) or from the outside and lose the aesthetic of the textured walls. Either way, it costs time and money to do it. We know it’s not insulated from the inside because of the illustration and, in my opinion, it’s very unlikely that Dazai would’ve gotten it insulated from the outside because at the very least, it would make his container stand out among the others nearby. You need to insulate a container home because they get very hot or cold in the summer and winter respectively, as they are made of metal. I’ve heard that at the very least, Japan’s summers are HOT.

This one is a little harder to confirm and will likely be updated as fan translations are released, but a likely hazardous set up for electricity and (hopefully) plumbing. If you don’t have the insulation on the inside but you still have your electrical and plumbing, it can possibly become both a visual mess and a safety hazard. It’s possible that he kept it all in the back portion of his container for example, or maybe he has it taped to the floor or walls somewhere, but that also brings the question of where it’s connected to on the outside. Since he’s on a dumping site, then where’s the electrical going to go at the very least? Sure he can use nearby public facilities but every day? He has a fridge, single lightbulb and a fan but where is the power is connected to? In terms of plumbing, I think it’s equally likely he found a Porta potty nearby or there’s (hopefully) some sort of public or PM owned facility nearby. Really, his hygiene, especially during the PM days when he was (as far as we the audience are aware) likely at his lowest, can easily become its own separate question/discussion for another day. After all, we’re just talking about the condition of his container in this post.

The possible fumes and chemicals left over. The paint on shipping containers is meant to withstand the sea water splashing on to them, so it may contain harsh chemicals. And we know that his container was used previously to ship cars overseas, but that still leaves the possibility for things to have leaked on the inside at this time. We don’t actually know if it’s been used more than once, but seeing as we do have a usage history, I’d say there’s a fair enough chance for it to have been a single use container. Still, chemicals could’ve previously leaked and the paint may be a concern in the long run. It’s also possible that it has begun rusting as well, due to the metal being exposed to the likes of sea water. Also, let’s not forget the toxic substances from the illegal dumping site itself, possibly going into the container over time.

Also as far as we can tell, there seems to be a lack of windows. This means no natural light, aside from opening a whole door. Keep in mind that windows can help with indoor temperature control, not just natural light.

Living in a dump site, especially an illegal one. This one should speak for itself but I’ll list some concerns anyway. Seeing as it’s illegal, we can probably just forget about regulations altogether, much less any possible existing ones being followed. This means that there can be literally anything from hazardous waste material, to dangerous and sharp objects on the ground, to who knows what kind of smells and fumes, etc. In short, not a safe area to live in, for health concern reasons at a minimum.

Again, my knowledge on shipping container homes themselves is limited and I do recommend checking out Belinda Carr’s videos on some of the downsides of them from a professional’s POV.

7 reasons why shipping container homes are a scam

Responding to comments: shipping container scam video

Also, just because Dazai was making presumably LARGE amounts of money obviously doesn’t mean that he has to spend it all or live luxuriously if he doesn’t want to. It’s not that hard to infer why Dazai did choose to live in such conditions and I mainly wanted to draw attention to how these conditions can affect him, with both the advantages and disadvantages.

#bsd spoilers #bungou stray dogs #stormbringer #bsd dazai #bsd storm bringer #bsd theories #bsd analysis

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Conundrum (A.B.)

Type: One-shot, challenge fic

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!reader Word Count: 7700 (:

Summary: conundrum - a confusing and difficult problem or question

Andy Barber is a difficult man whom you have yet to understand. He certainly doesn’t make it any easier; and right before Christmas, he manages to surprise you again.

Prompt: You have to look for a gift impromptu

Warnings: a smidge of angst, a drop of awkward humour, mention of death (mild AU - both Laurie and Jacob!), alcohol consumption, feels, explicit language, reader gets called a dumbass... that’s it I hope, lemme know

A/N: This is my submission for the Happy Hoelidays challenge. There’s no hoeing tho, shame on me. Also, if you want some music to go with this, know that I listened to ‘God I Hope This Year Is Better Than the Last’ by SYML an obscene amount of times.

Andy Barber was an enigma.

Reporters liked to think he wasn’t; almost a year ago, they tore down all the walls he had built up to protect the privacy of his family and they shed light into startingly intimate details of his life – and where they couldn’t shed light, they used their imagination and sold it with a claim of having a reliable source. Naturally, it worked; there were always people willing to believe it just so they obtained more of juicy gossip material.

There were wanabe psychologists who would address his trauma and tried to analyse his personality, the consequences he would suffer in the aftermath of the tragedy, who attempted to strip down his soul just to get a few more reads and generally talked about him as if they were best friends, as if they knew him.

It was all a load of bullshit.

The truth, you thought, was that no one knew him. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure if even his wife ever had, truly – but that was you under the influence of the little information you bothered to gather from the influx of crap that the media provided the public with.

What you believed was that the reporters and all the self-proclaimed experts on him knew nada.

Andrew Barber was and always would remain an enigma; to the public, to the little what remained of his family after the death of his wife and son, to his co-workers – the category which included you. If you could even call yourself a co-worker; you were simply a secretary. Granted, one whose previous employer let her peek over their shoulder quite a bit so you learned a thing or two about law, but Andy Barber was the lawyer. The former DA from Boston, who moved over to rule the DA office of Portland, your home.

Even after having been working with him for nine full months, Andy’s thoughts and feelings didn’t get any easier for you to read or predict. When he wanted to let you know he was disappointed, he did. When he was truly angry with someone, well, he wouldn’t let it go unnoticed either.

Other than that, however, you would have had better luck trying to decode the actual enigma-encrypted messages sent during World War II.

Small talk didn’t last longer than three sentences from you each. Work-related affaires were discussed in his office with politeness and with calm, rather dispassionate mannerism. If you caught a hint of a smile when an important case that helped people went his way (or the office’s way really), you considered it a miracle that sent your heart reeling.

He would sometimes smile only for you if you brought him a coffee without him asking first, simply because he looked like he needed one; at those times, he would thank you softly and let slip in your first name instead of referring to you with your last. Those were your favourite moments.

Well, almost.

You found him with a tumbler and an expensive whiskey on occasion when you were leaving the office late; you never commented on it, but there were four times he actually silently invited you to have a glass with him. You refused the first time and accepted the other three.

Those nights, you got a glimpse of the mystery of a man hidden behind surprisingly soft mannerism, one which was in such a sharp contrast to his shark-like demeanour he displayed in front of the judge and the jury. His scars ran deep, his hopes had been shattered, his life in the past year as bitter as the overpriced liquor. Your heart cracked for him to the point of nearly breaking altogether.

And yet, it was beating for him too; behind all that hurt, you couldn’t but notice certain gentleness. Yes, he could be scary, downright terrifying and when his temper got the best of him, the true rage on display, he was a force to be reckoned with. But oh, that gentleness. The kind shattered soul he hid so well every morning, more so on the days right after your little heart-to-hearts. Trying to build a working relationship with him – a friendship of a sort, anything you wanted to call it – was a game of push and pull and more of a string of guesses than an effort that would bore fruit.

You might have already given up on that and instead, with the ferocity you hadn’t known you possessed, you kept punching the crush you had on him; that silly thing that would always call louder and louder after he revealed a piece of him on one of the precious nights, only to shut you out completely the next morning.

Andy Barber had never even remotely showed a romantic interest in you and by God, did you not blame him for not being interested in anyone at all as far you knew. While you considered yourself a fairly capable worker and half-decent person, you were aware you could never measure up to him. Just another reason to push down the feelings you had for him, ones that seemed to bloom with more intensity whenever he raised the corners of his damn lips, when he asked a question about you during those stupid nights as if he cared— nonsense. You had to get rid of those. He didn’t even like you, barely acknowledged you in the end. Or did he? You honestly didn’t know.

Bottom line was that if you couldn’t get close enough, then the reporters knew jack shit, no matter how much reading on him they had done or how many books on psychology, criminology and law and shit they went through. Many people knew Andrew Barber’s name, but no one could hope to know him.

And yet, those assholes still called and asked about him.

It was the fourth one that day; December 23rd, over a year from the accusation of Jacob Barber, and those fucking vultures still called Andy Barber’s office. They weren’t even good newspapers and news sites anymore; obviously, because every rational decent person would have let the poor man rest. But nope. Not them.

“Portland’s DA office, secretary of Mr. Barber speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, wonderful! Is there any chance I could talk to Mr. Barber personally?” the chipper of a man asked on the other end of the line and just by not giving his name, he raised suspicion; was it forgetfulness caused by his distress or intention?

Fortunately for him and unfortunately for you, you had to be polite. Hot-shot lawyers and other important people rarely returned the courtesy, but that was the world you lived in.

“There might be, Mr-?”

“Oh, Connor. Peter Connor.”

“Well, Mr. Connor, what is your legal issue?” you asked patiently, writing down his name automatically.

“Well, you see, I would rather talk with Mr. Barber about—my delicate situation, in private.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stopped scribbling and spared a brief glance towards the door to Andy’s office. It was opened ajar in what could be an invitation, but all blinds on both the door and the windows were down in typical fashion.

Talk in private?

Yeah, not gonna happen. You knew a few tricks that these assholes calling the office tended to pull and whoever this man was, you were growing more suspicious by the minute that he was not seeking legal advice.

You went back to your notes and wrote down the word liar right next to his name and a question mark. Was he a liar? One way to find out you guessed; you caught your phone between your ear and your shoulder, opening a new tab in your browser to google the name along with a wild guess of him being a reporter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Connor, I’m afraid I will need more information before I put you through. And I will probably need to make you an appointment, my boss is a very busy man-“

“Oh, is he? Lots of cases in Andrew Barber’s new district, huh?”

The blood in your veins was set aflame even before the search was done, because in an instant, you knew for sure.

And then you had it confirmed by the results.

This jerk had even given you his real name, utterly shameless. Sure, he could have only had the same name as the journalist you found, but what were the chances? Two days after you told his colleague – who had made it through your vetting, got an appointment and even got past the reception desk before you spotted him for what he was – to get lost and not try again?

Your pulse skyrocketed along with your blood pressure. Technically, you didn’t owe Andrew Barber anything, but he was respectful enough, didn’t make much trouble and for most time, was an okay boss to you.

You owed him this much: he was a decent guy. Why couldn’t other people show a shed of basic human decency too and leave him the fuck alone?

“That depends, Mr. Connor,” you purred, barely holding the outrage locked inside. You felt both energized by your anger and achingly tired and done with humanity. You rested your elbows on the desk and leaned onto it with a sigh, massaging the bridge of your nose, eyes closed. “Is he going to have to sue your rag of a newspaper or will you and your colleagues finally get the memo and leave. His. Personal. Life. Alone?!”

You most definitely strained the last words through your teeth, but you didn’t care anymore if you were being rude. He was the fourth reporter today ready to ask about Andy’s personal matters. The FOURTH!! He was lucky you didn’t tell him to go fuck himself… explicitly.

“Are you threatening me?” the man demanded, his voice insulted, losing all traced of pretence.

As if you ever. You knew better than that, working with lawyers.

“Nice try, Mr. Connor. I will thank you to never call this office again unless you have legal issues or a relevant question which you should direct to our PR department anyway. And if you could extend this to all editorial staff, please, preferably to all editorial staff in the United States, that would be splendid. Have a good day. Happy Holidays.”

You slammed the phone down, missing the slot for it, not caring. You were sure he would hang up on his own.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath and hid your face in your palms, grunting, fingertips sinking into your hair.

“I hope you don’t mean me,” sounded from the doorway and you yelped, honest to god yelped and straightened in your seat, head snapping up-

-only to meet your boss’ curious gaze. Hurt and anger casted shadows over his beautiful cerulean irises, but there was no mistaking the melancholy and resignation on his face either.

“Of course not!” you blurted out quickly, panic rising in your chest.

How much had he heard? Was he going to fire you for being unprofessional? Did he figure out what was this about— of course he did, there was little room left for doubt. Your choice of words was pretty straightforward.

Andy bounced off of the doorframe he was leaning onto, not easing his stance – his arms remained crossed over his chest and had you not been so alarmed, you would have indulged in the sight of his biceps nearly cutting through the seams of his shirt.

“Why do I get the impression that whoever you were talking to was not the first person to call the office to feed on ‘the misery man’ that Andrew Barber is?” he more stated than asked, his tone unmistakably bitter.

You gulped as he approached your desk, nails digging into your palms. You had no idea what to say. Once again, you couldn’t quite read Andy; you had no idea where this was heading and how you should answer without setting him off, making him sadder or even more bitter. And without getting fired, obviously.

“I—uhm, well, I suppose you heard me, so you know he wasn’t the first—Mr. Barber. I apologize-“ His eyebrows rose a fraction and you didn’t dare to analyse why. “-if I was too loud. But--- humanity sucks.”

The moment the last two words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, snapping your eyelids close and squeezing. You were sure you were about to have bloody crescents in your palms from your nails at this point.

Did you really just say that? To your boss, no less?

Way to go, me.

“Not wrong there. Why don’t you take your lunch break now?” he offered casually.

You nodded as you felt the tell-tale burn of tears forming in your eyes; fuck, this was humiliating. Why had he had to walk in exactly in that moment? And now using that tone?

He didn’t say anything else and you didn’t dare to look at him. Only when you heard him walk back to his office and close the door behind him, you opened your eyes and released the breath you were holding, your heart hammering in your chest.

Gulping and swallowing your tears before they could escape, you grabbed your purse and your coat, rushing out to the cold air of Portland winter.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Andy didn’t bring up the incident again when you came back. You had a short list of assignments for the upcoming days off which you went over with him before parting ways for the holidays. You mentioned you would probably drop in tomorrow despite not necessarily having to, but wished him Happy Holidays in case you’d miss him during your brief visit.

The corners of his lips twitched at that, but he wished you the same. You supposed his holidays weren’t about to be happy – more like the opposite. Last year, he celebrated with his family, even if it might have been already falling apart. This year however…

Your heart cracked another fraction for the man and you wondered if you should leave some cookies for him in the office tomorrow at least. Then you realized he would probably hate it, either being bitter about feeling like a charity case or hating the reminder of what he had lost, what wasn’t waiting for him at home anymore. Not to mention that maybe even the poinsettia, which you had placed on his office window two days ago and neither of you commented on, was already too much.

The only cookies you baked that night were the ones you knew should stay in a box with apples for over a day, the cookies you were supposed to bring to your sister’s house for Christmas, because your nephew Harry loved them.

With cheesy Christmas songs in the background and a bottle of wine for the party of one, you kneaded the double batch of dough and couldn’t but spare your achingly handsome and likely lonely boss a thought and maybe… maybe a tear or two.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

The office was empty when you arrived on 24th at around half past four; everyone left as soon as possible, which was to be expected. Admittedly, despite not knowing what you would talk about with Andy, you found your heart sinking when you didn’t see light peeking through the blinds of your and his offices. You had expected him to be working to avoid being at home; but then again, you knew next to nothing about him. Maybe he was with a girlfriend. With a boyfriend. With former colleagues. With his deceased wife’s family. It was only assumption of yours that he might be lonely on Christmas.

You shook your head at your train of thought as you unlocked your office, mentally going over which files you needed to bring home, trying to eliminate the amount as not to endanger confidential information by taking them away from the safety of the bureau.

You froze in your tracks when you found a rather large piece of paper folded into a roof on your desk. A note, you realized, frowning and slowly walking to the suspicious object.

There were very few people who could enter your space, namely three: the janitor, you and Andy. The first option was unlikely, the second impossible, the third confusing. You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just shoot you a text if he needed anything.

You halted in your steps, the air knocked out of your lungs when you noticed that the note was not the only new item on your desk.

There was a box.

A box roughly size of your extended palm. And if you weren’t mistaken… it looked like a jewellery gift box.

“What the hell?” you asked yourself breathlessly, your curiosity getting the best of you; more so as you recognized what was most definitely Andy’s handwriting on the paper.

Andrew Barber, your boss, with whom you weren’t sure what your relationship was – if there was any at all – might have got you jewellery.

Say that again?

A tiny voice in your head told you he might have just used the box for something else entirely, but that didn’t seem to be his style.

So you picked up the gift carefully, almost reverently removing the lid, your heart pounding in your chest, stomach twisting with pleasant anticipation; with the familiar rush that kids feel when opening a present with high hopes of what could await them inside.

Your lips parted in pure shock, you mind turning blank.

There were no words in English language to express how… how absolutely magnificent the bracelet inside was.

Five thin circles with symbols made of slender lines inside, looking like charms, but withing the body of the bracelet, one clasped to the next one with delicate ellipses. The metal reflected the fluorescent lights of the office, glimmering softly, appearing almost fluid, a thin stream of water trapped in a box.

You actually had to blink and it took all your willpower not to pinch yourself, because—how-

How had he known? Where had he got it? Holy mother of Jesus, how much had he spent on it?

And why get you a gift in the first place? You were… acquaintances at best. Yes, there were almost friendly moments, and then there were those nights, but this was---this- you couldn’t even---- think, apparently.

Keeping an eye on the opened box, you gently placed it back on the desk, afraid to even touch the metal itself. You blindly reached into your purse in search for your phone to dial the only number that made sense for you to dial at that moment.

It sure as hell wasn’t Andy’s.

Nothing but a dialling tone sounded for half a minute, the time seemingly endless. You fell heavily into your chair, still staring at the absolutely gorgeous and thoughtful gift.

How did he know?!

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as your sister still didn’t answer the phone and your hand automatically reached for your necklace to toy with.

And that was when it hit you.

Your necklace; one you got from your sister during the period of your biggest obsession with the Divergence series. Two arrows in a circle pointing different directions, the symbol for a ‘divergent’ person. Your eyes wandered over the five circles of the bracelet – scales, an eye, hands connected, a flame, a tree –, an incredulous chuckle escaping you.

But--- you didn’t think he would notice. You didn’t even wear it all the time, rather often, yes, and yeah, perhaps you did have a bit of a bad habit of fumbling with it when nervous-

“Hey sis! What’s up?” Amber’s voice sounded cheerily from the microphone. You jumped in your seat, startled by her as she interrupted your musing. “Please tell me you’re still coming, because Harry wouldn’t shut up about his favourite chocolate chip.”

You cleared your throat, barely able to comprehend what she was talking about, too caught up in your head.

“I—hi. Uhm- I need help actually,” you finally stuttered and you could practically feel her frown even over the phone.

“Oh? Is everything okay? You sound… a little strange.”

“That’s-“ not wrong. You scanned the office and listened in for the tinniest noise, making sure you were still alone. “I’m at the office and I--eh, I found a gift for me.”

“Awww, a secret admirer? Nice!” Amber chuckled, then abruptly stopped. “…unless it’s a stalker. You don’t think you have a stalker, right? Is that why you called me, so I could tell George? He’s not on duty-“

This time you did roll your eyes at the mention of her husband who happened to be a police officer.

“No, Amber, I have no stalker as far as I know. I’m pretty sure I can recognize my boss’ handwriting at this point.”

Nothing but silence could be heard from the other end for a good minute. You bit your lip in anticipation of… something.

And then: “You’re shitting me.”

“Not really-“

“Holy mother of-!” your sister squealed loudly and you winced, instinctively withdrawing from the phone. “Your boss got you a Christmas present?! --Wait. Is it a Walmart card? Because if it is, then this call is pointless, because that’s boring as-“

“No, Amber, he—he gave me a bracelet,” you admitted softly, your gaze once again wandering over the said object. Beautiful. Fragile. Yours, apparently. What?

When Amber only responded with silence again, words suddenly spilled from your lips, all the mixed feelings you had about receiving the bracelet released, relief singing in your veins as you vented.

“And-and it’s actually really beautiful and--- it’s thoughtful, because it has all the fractions from Divergence on it? But not like something you buy for ten dollars, only paying for the copyright or whatever and the quality is shitty, no, I mean--- it looks pretty, eh, delicate.”

It did, awfully so, which was why you still couldn’t make yourself to touch it even if you really, really liked it and wanted to do nothing but to wear it for the rest of your damn life.

“And expensive. I-- I think it might be real silver and…” you wavered, almost scared to share your last observation out loud for it seemed impossible for it to be true. “Amber, you know I looked through a lot of Divergence-related goods so I would know. It- it doesn’t look familiar at all, it’s--- I think it might be custom-made.”

You choked on the last word, tasting so strange on your tongue as you couldn’t quite believe that you were saying it. You felt--- incredulous to put it simply… and touched and- absolutely bewildered.

Silence stretched in the follow-up to your rambling and you felt your brows drawing together.

“…Amber? You there?”

“Oh yeah, I’m here,” she assured you swiftly, mischief curling around the tone of her voice like a smirk on her lips you couldn’t see. “Just wondering how could you not tell me you started sleeping with him-“

“What?! No!” you protested instantly, straightening in the chair. “I’m not—I’m not his sugar baby or whatever! This is not a ‘thank you for letting me fuck you raw’ gift-“

“Not that you would complain from what I heard and saw-“ she hummed playfully.

She was right. But shush!

“Screw you!”

“George does, that’s why we have Harry in the first place,” she sassed you. “But… sis? What kind of a gift it is then?”

And wasn’t that the question.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you should, because from what you told me, you guys aren’t even friends. Nota bene, this isn’t exactly a gift you give to a friend,” she pointed out, addressing one of the million issues concerning the damn (gorgeous) bracelet.

“I-- I guess?” You were sure, in fact. This was something to give to a… well, to a lover, to a partner. “But- Amber, he doesn’t--- that’s not-“

“What did the note say?”

“Huh?”

“You said you recognized his handwriting,” she reminded you slowly as if speaking to a five-year-old. “What does the note say?”

You glanced at the note again noncommittally, remembering exactly what it said. Pretty much nothing. Definitely nothing to go on.

“Uhm… Thank you. Happy Holidays.”

There was a beat of silence, again. “That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Eloquent.” You rolled your eyes at her sarcastic tone. She should see him at court. True though, on personal level, he wasn’t exactly chatty. Unless he opened up a bit over a glass of whiskey--- anyway, she had a point, obviously. “What are you gonna do?”

That snapped you from your musing like a shot of life into your bloodstream.

“That’s why I’m calling! I should-- I should get him something too, right?” Right?! Absolutely. “Oh god, I hate last-minute shopping. And I don’t even have a fucking clue what to buy! Well, a good whiskey is always a safe bet I guess, but supporting his drinking habits doesn’t sound like a good idea. Plus, it’s kinda… impersonal with comparison to what he gave me.”

Though if there was one thing you learned about Andy Barber, it was that he could appreciate the high-quality liquor, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been as impersonal as one might think.

“Well, I don’t know him so I can’t really help, but what you got from him should definitely give you a clue.”

“A clue?” you parroted, confused.

“I don’t mean like a clue for what you should buy him. But… look, even if you didn’t suspect that it’s custom-made, which whoa, he has to pay a lot of attention to buy you something like this. Much more attention than you thought.”

“…okay?”

“He likes you, you dumbass! It doesn’t matter what you get him, he’ll be happy you got him anything in the first place!”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you deadpanned, unsure which statement you were referring to. That he liked you or that you shouldn’t take care to choose something that would really bring him at least a little joy.

You tried your best to ignore how your heart skipped the beat at the former.

“Whatever. Harry’s throwing a hungry eye on me, I gotta go fix him a snack unless I want him to eat all the candy again. Good luck!”

“Amber!“ you called out in honest despair, panic rising in your chest, only to get no answer.

You pulled the phone from your ear to look at the screen, already knowing what awaited you.

Disconnected.

Fuck.

It seemed you were on your own. Wasn’t that wonderful?

You shot your sister a simple ‘I hate you’ text, the gears in your head already turning frantically in order to figure out what you could get Andy.

Amber replied with a set of laughing emojis within seconds. Bitch, leaving you alone to deal with a situation like this! What a sister she was.

You sighed, admiring the delicate lines of the bracelet again, torn between indulgence and guilt. There was no questioning whether you should buy Andy something too.

Say yay for the last-minute shopping for a man out of your league and whom you had no idea what you should get.

You were utterly at loss, growing anxious not only about the difficult choice of a gift, but also about possible delivery, wondering what should you even tell him and when.

Maybe though…. just maybe, you were getting kinda excited about what you were about to do too.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Three hours.

You spent almost three hours at the mall where you could barely breathe because of the crazy crowds and yet you were none the wiser; your excitement left you quickly, once again replaced by despair. It took you three hours and passing the lingerie shop four times, a shop with pieces on display that barely covered anything, intended for either bedroom games or a swimming pool, before it finally hit you.

You cursed under your breath, calling yourself an idiot in murmur loud enough to have few people around you look at you in surprise.

“Dumbass, I’m such a dumbass,” you continued your monologue as you fished out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts.

To say that the person on the other end was shocked to hear from you at this time of month and hour was an understatement.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Lee. I have… eh, a favour to ask…”

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

You were being ridiculous.

Absolutely and utterly ridiculous as you stood on a modest porch in front of a small family house, the roof hiding you from the intrusive drizzle but not keeping you quite safe from the wind as you clutched your handbag to your side as if it was your lifeline, cursing yourself for not wearing a scarf in December.

Your nose was practically freezing, your cheeks burned from the wind and your hands were cold too, because you were stupidly underdressed; as if you haven’t lived in Portland your whole life.

But that wasn’t the main issue; an Uber dropped you off about five minutes ago and still, here you were, standing outside and trying to convince yourself to ring the bell.

The plan had been to finish packing a bag and leave around 10 p.m. to your sister’s house, where you would spend the night so you could be with her family on Christmas Day from the very beginning. But then Andrew fucking Barber, your fabulous boss, left a gift in your office, a breath-taking bracelet now sitting low on your right wrist, and it all went to hell.

Maybe you could still make it to your sister’s house – it was shortly after nine, your bag waiting on your bed, so maybe you should just call another Uber and be on your way. Maybe you could leave the silly envelope in the post-box just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Andy’s reaction; after all, he had chosen the same approach; cookies be damned, there would be more left for Harry then-

But you really, really wanted to thank him. And you might be shitting your pants, but the prospect of seeing him in a domestic environment, possibly more relaxed, perhaps nearing the man you had had the honour to see on those nights… you couldn’t make yourself to pass on that opportunity.

At the same time, you kept reminding yourself that Andy did not expect to see you tonight, he might not even be home – you were pretty sure a dim light was coming from the living room, the TV on probably, but yeah, you could keep lying to yourself – and that he might be grieving and genuinely might hate you for invading his privacy since you had to search his home address in the official documents.

Yeah, you definitely should just spin on your heels and-

“Oh for God’s sake,” you muttered under your breath and pressed the doorbell, your heart suddenly hammering in your ribcage as you realized there were no takebacks now. “Shit.”

Maybe you should just run. What if he had fallen asleep already and you just woke him up?! Oh, he was so going to be pissed and he might even show that emotion, screaming you down like he did one with that intern-

A scruffle on the other side of the door snapped you from your hopeless expectations and you sucked in a horrified breath.

And then the door slid open before you could react and you were certain you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, a semi-frozen deer to make the situation worse and--- there he was.

You quickly dropped your gaze, only then realizing how rude that was and that you should meet his eye no matter how much you did and did not want to do so at the same time. As you gaze travelled up, you found that a domestic Andy was everything you imagined he would be; black socks, loose dark grey sweats, pale t-shirt slightly wrinkled. One of his arms hung loosely by his side, the other still at the door-knob as you continued your inspection, gaze caressing the line of his bare forearm, reaching the sleeves that were hugging his biceps precisely. Broad shoulders, perfectly trimmed beard framing plush lips with the slightest hint of a curious smile.

You smiled awkwardly as your eyes met his watching you with interest, dimmed with a hint of a doze-off you must have woken him up from. You tried not to dwell on the inconspicuous redness surrounding his irises.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up!” you blurted out quickly, rewarded with a light shake of his head and a stifled yawn; subtle.

“You didn’t. Hi,” he greeted you, only to make you realize that 1. you forgot to say hi and 2. his post-nap voice was a thing from wet dreams-- which was definitely not relevant at that moment.

“Hi,” you offered unsurely, eyes roaming his face, searching for any trace of anger. All you found was bewilderment; if pleasant or not, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry for barging in. I just… uhm- I wanted to thank you and-“

The hint of a smile on his lips grew a fraction, expression softening at your admission and before you could find your footing, he opened the door further, subtly extending his hand to usher you in.

Your heart skipped a beat, the strangest feeling tickling your gut, teeth sinking into your lower lip, the grip on your handbag growing stronger. Yet you accepted, taking two reluctant steps inside. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing whatever fate awaited you.

Attempting not to look too nosy, you turned back to Andy rather than scanning the hall.

Words got stuck in your throat. As tired as he looked, worn to a bone by everything but physical exercise, you couldn’t but marvel at what a handsome man he was, even without his smart suits and ties and neatly styled fluffy hair; it was still very fluffy, just more of a mess than a fashion statement.

God, wasn’t he beautiful.

He kept looking at you too in mute anticipation of something, appearing mildly lost just as you were, giving the impression of a man who couldn’t tell what to expect.

Your gaze locked with his, unyielding, a gorgeous trap and you knew you had to say or do something before your heart gave out entirely.

Your mouth opened, no words coming out and you cursed yourself, simply opening the bag and pulling out a Tupperware box with half the cookies you baked last night, practically shoving it to Andy’s capable hands.

He accepted the item with eyebrows shooting up once before settling back, eyes misting for a moment. His fingertips brushed yours as he took a firm hold of the box, the not-quite-there smile of his remaining on his lips.

He seemed perplexed.

You felt like an idiot.

“This feels so silly now,” you admitted with a sigh, realizing the absurdity of the situation only accented by the fact that you stood there in the hall of his home in your coat and high-boots, ridiculously overdressed in comparison to him.

“It’s not,” he whispered finally, forcing the corners of his mouth to rise higher. “Thank you. Didn’t know you baked. Should have figured.”

You shrugged. “Never came up.”

Something shifted in his expression as did in the air; you knew he sensed it too. The unspoken hung between you, that you meant not in your daily routine at the office, but on your private nights, so rare and precious, so desperately pretended to be non-existent the next morning.

Your gaze lowered as the silence fell on your pair again and you awkwardly shifted your weight from one leg to the other. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“So, uh-“

“Thank you for the bracelet. Really. It was-” you licked your lips, meeting his eyes again, so deep, so blue and somehow soft and you forgot what you were about to say. “Eh- I wasn’t expecting it. I-- I didn’t think you’d… notice. And--- care.”

His brows furrowed for a bit and he placed the box on the shoe rack next to him; an action he soon regretted you guessed, because his fingers went for his wrist as if he wanted to readjust his cufflinks, a nervous habit of his, only to meet bare skin. Good to know you weren’t the only one iffy in this conversation.

“But you liked it?” he asked almost shyly and the corners of your lips rose on instinct as did you right hand, the sleeve of your coat sliding down a fraction, enough to reveal the new accessory. “Looks pretty on you.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers gently slid over one of the symbols, brushing over the sensitive skin of your wrist. His gaze returned to yours, a flicker of something heated in his eyes, calling butterflies to your stomach.

Lord have mercy.

“Thanks- uhm--- thank you. Here, I got you something too.” You quickly reached into the handbag again to hide how flustered you felt – for a different reason than awkwardness.

He had touched your wrist and you turned into a blushing mess. Fabulous. And to make the matter more humiliating, now a twinkle of amusement played in his irises.

“You gave me a plant. And cookies.”

“Yeah. Kinda? But that was more of a… gesture?” you offered reluctantly as you handed him the envelope. “I uh—this is probably stupid, but, uhm--- here.”

“Stop putting yourself down,” he muttered darkly, causing your cheeks to burn hotter. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.” Pulling out the firm colourful paper, he blinked a few times, seemingly surprised. Ha, you bet he expected a Walmart card! Instead, there was a voucher for five entrances to the swimming pool where your friend Lee worked at. “Oh. Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

A stone the size of Texas fell from your stomach and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief. Andy seemed genuinely pleased by your choice of gift and you felt your whole body relax.

“It’s just… eh, just for half an hour each and you can pick them on a horizon of three months. I’m not sure how often you like going, so… uhm, my friend works at the place, so you just give her a call and it shouldn’t be a problem to book it for mornings right before the opening hours,” you explained lamely, earning a puzzled look.

“How did you know I liked going when no one’s there?”

That caused one corner of your lips twitch in slight amusement and your eyebrow arch, even if his reasons weren’t exactly funny; his cheeks flushed a hint of red, a sight to behold for more than one reason. It was nice to have the roles reserved, you making him feel flustered for once.

Really? The rather quiet lone-wolf Andy Barber, followed by reporters still, just asked you this? Cute.

“…that’s fair,” he said and for a brief second, you were afraid you had shared your thoughts out loud. But he didn’t look offended, so probably not. The self-awareness then. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m-eh, glad you like it.”

You stood there again, both smiling – a little reluctantly, a little soft – and once again you had no idea how to proceed.

What you did know was that you enjoyed talking to him, even if it was awkward like this. You enjoyed seeing him in his natural habitat, in his home, relatively relaxed. You thrived seeing more of this Andy Barber, just a handsome guy, not Andrew Barber, the hot-shot lawyer.

He was the first to break the silence, hesitantly gesturing further into the house.

“Would you—would you like to-“

YES! was what you brain screamed.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother…” was what you told him, mentally cuffing yourself on the head.

“You’re not,” Andy opposed lowly. The whisper of your name that followed made you shiver.

His gazed trailed all over your face, so intense you would swear he saw right into your soul and further. You felt naked, but for some reason not too vulnerable – Andy seemed to like what he saw, expression genuinely inviting and yet. Yet there was a subtle promise of this not being a friendly invite which was as exciting as unsettling. The air appeared the crackle and you found yourself yearning to taste the electricity on your tongue.

“May I?”

He beckoned to your coat, suddenly free hands already rising and all you could do was to nod, automatically placing your handbag on the floor and unbuttoning the garment. Once if fell open, revealing simple black jeggings and a light pink sweater, Andy sidestepped you, fingers sliding under the hem, cautiously skimming over the bare skin above your collarbones, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

The warmth of his fingertips seeped into your flesh and yet you shuddered, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You watched Andy put your coat away with care, turning back to you torturously slowly. He filled all of your personal space, so close and too far. You weren’t sure when exactly the air turned so heavy in your lungs, but as your gaze travelled to his lips, not missing how his sought yours in return, you felt all the oxygen leave the room.

“Andy,” the word rolled off your tongue, nothing but a soundless breath of his name.

His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips again and back before he spoke, voice barely above a whisper, hoarse.

“Am I imagining it?”

He didn’t have to say what and still you knew with absolute certainty that he was addressing the unbearable and delicious tension, the one that had been building and coming to life during those three nights you had spent talking in his office late--- and now it was back with smouldering intensity.

“You’re not.”

You shivered and gulped when he cautiously took a single little step further into your space, your gaze falling to his chest, lowering in sudden surge of the deep-rotted insecurity, whispering about your and his world being thousands of miles apart. And yet, your heart raced in anticipation, your hopes dizzyingly high that you might touch heaven, even if for a few moments.

When his fingertips grasped your jaw, tough light and oh so careful, your eyelids fluttered close, already indulging in the sensation. God, his touch was so soft despite the roughness of his fingertips…

As if he wished to torture you or to indulge that sweet little moment before lips met lips, he stopped an inch from his destination, his breaths as wavering as yours, the words whispered straight into your mouth just a little broken.

“I’m fucked up.”

Your brain basked in blissful fog, but this got across, causing you to tense briefly.

You couldn’t deny what he was saying, you both knew he spoke the ultimate truth – well, you guessed. What had happened to him, having his life dismantled and then losing his family, that sort of thing was bound to leave a scar. Confirming it bluntly though, that felt unforgiving, only adding insult to injury.

“We all are,” you whispered instead, not only because you wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’, the words too harsh.

And it wasn’t trivializing the tragic turn his life had taken. It wasn’t downplaying the depth of his wounds. It wasn’t necessarily implying that you had been through something equally horrible either. Most importantly, it wasn’t you mocking him.

And somehow, he understood that; even if he could have interpreted it in every wrong way imaginable and shove you away, insulted, disgusted.

But no, in that fleeting moment that meant everything, Andy understood that this was your acceptance; this was you telling him that you were willing to try; take whatever he offered and give anything you could in return.

Finally, his lips brushed over yours, slightly chapped and oh so warm and delicious, withdrawing too soon, leaving you to savour the taste as your ran your tongue over your own lips. You inhaled shakily, overwhelmed by everything that was him, powerful, electrifying and then your hand was somehow on his chest, your palm laid over his racing heart, your fingers twitching as his ribcage expanded with a sharp inhale.

Blindly, your mouth searched his again, his whiskers tickling softly and scratching at once, a pleasant sensation on your sensitive skin as he grew bolder, and truly attached your lips in a kiss that made you feel lightheaded with the emotion poured into it. Your hand curled around his nape, an instinct to pull him closer, fingers toying with the short soft hair there, drawing a hum from within the expanse of his chest.

You granted him access to your mouth when he wordlessly asked, but it was him who retreated shortly after that, his heart now appearing as if in pain with its furious beats under your palm. His breaths started coming out short and it dawned to you what was wrong. How fast this could have felt to him, even if he was the one to start it.

‘I’m fucked up,’ he had said. Too caught in the moment, you hadn’t fully realized the extent of his words perhaps.

But you did now – at least a little better than before.

So when he rested his forehead against yours and a breathless ‘sorry’ slipped from his lips, you shook your head lightly and planted a kiss on his cheek, hand still on the back of his head, fingers running over his scalp in a hopefully soothing motion.

“I’ve got you, Andy. You lead.”

You had no strength to keep him close when he pulled his face away, your eyes snapping open in fright that you had said something terribly wrong.

But Andy’s cerulean eyes were big and glassy, grateful and softly speaking about him being… moved by your proposition. Your heart felt like it just grew twice its size, too big to fit into your chest at what a breath-taking picture he was.

The next thing you knew, he dropped a chaste kiss to your forehead and pulled you into his arms, an almost protective embrace, kissing the top of your head for a good measure and you melted against his large frame, smiling into t-shirt.

“Thank you,” he murmured breathlessly into your hair and your smile widened, remembering the note he had left with the exquisite gift that had started everything that led you right here into this moment.

“Happy Holidays.”

Thank you for reading! I’ve been sitting on this since the beginning of damn November. I hope you enjoyed.

It was my first (and maybe last) time writing Andy, so I hope it was alright. Feedback always appreciated.

P.S. – sorry if the nosy reporters thing offended you.

P.P.S. - …I know, the prompt was veeery loosely filled. Shush.

Pretty divider by whismicalrogers.

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #defending jacob #post defending jacob #andy barber #holiday fic #christmas fic #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #fanfiction #challenge fic #conundrum #anika ann

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ave-immaculata · 3 years

Note

will you tell us your conversion story? no pressure

Absolutely! It's pretty long, and trigger warning for some mental health issues, suicide, and sexual assault.

I think it sort of started way way back when I was 16. I'd been really struggling and had been misdiagnosed with so many mental health issues. I was medicated for these issues I didn't actually have (I'm autistic!) and I remember distinctly encountering a little voice telling me I needed to get off the meds I was taking. And well, I didn't know how to explain that and I was basically already experiencing visual hallucinations and having 20+ full panic attacks each day because of some of the meds, so it quickly devolved even further as a mess. I wasn't able to get off of them and it got bad enough I attempted suicide. I had what I refer to as a Divine Interruption where I just saw my mom coming in and finding my corpse, and it triggered a panic attack that led me to dial 911. I ended up being rushed to the hospital and they were concerned I'd have some permanent organ damage from everything I took, but thanks be to God physically I made a full recovery. I later found out that my attempt happened on the feast day of St. Jude, patron Saint of lost causes and desperate cases. There's a local parish named after him and I think someone asked for his intercession at just the right time. I was sexually assaulted not long after by one of my best friends. I remember another friend and her mom came over when I told her what happened and they helped me explain to my parents because I was really nonverbal after a bit, but the only thing I still remember saying was "What did I do wrong?? Why is God punishing me? Why does He hate me??" I had just started getting my feet under me post-hospital and then I was deeply betrayed and traumatized by someone I loved. Even though I didn't believe in God, I knew if He existed I must have been a terrible person in a past life or something to justify what was happening to me. Long story short, I ended up getting off of those medications and figuring out I was autistic (I was in a very bad scene and was cohabiting with a man way too old for me, but his son was autistic and he ended up mentioning his suspicions to me after one too many obvious childhood stories), and got really into atheism. I had a brief run in here with a home Bible study that I attended for a single night, without telling my boyfriend who was also super atheist, but I felt like I couldn't deal with Christianity while I was obviously in a situation they wouldn't approve of (premarital sex, BDSM, cohabitation, etc.) I ended up breaking up with him and moving back home, time goes on, in another relationship in the BDSM scene when that irritating desire for something crept back up. I found myself wanting to just sit in a Church's parking lot or to walk in on one that was open and sit. I didn't really, except once. I was too nervous to go in so I sat in front of a beautiful Mary statue they had out front. At some point I started considering the existence of God with an absolutely insane amount of pride. I was really stuck on the problem of evil (especially natural evil) and initially completely wrote off the Christian God. I tried praying and a lot of the time was vaguely if not outrightly disrespectful or blasphemous, especially when I got angry with God. I completely rejected the concept of Hell, was only interested in (eventually) finding a church that was LGBT+ affirming, and liked the idea of Quakerism, although I had some issues with it as well. I had a nagging in my head calling me to abandon kink and commit myself to celibacy but that was... terrifying. All of my friends except for maybe 2 were in the BDSM community. My boyfriend and I were both in it. I had introduced him to it! I worked up the strength to tell him I wanted to stop kink altogether and he totally agreed. I'd heard a liberal Christian talk about having pre-marital sex in a way that was somehow acceptable to God, but I tried that and I felt hollow inside. I felt like I was trying desperately to convince myself something was okay, that had always been okay, still was. But it wasn't, and even though he was okay with no kink he was NOT okay with no sex. I liked the idea of Mary though, and I didn't know what else to do, so I found a site that walks you through all the prayers of the Rosary on a whim (& gives you a different mini meditation on the mystery for each of the 10 Hail Marys) so I tried that. Then I did it again the next day and the next. Then after maybe a week I figured it was stupid and I should stop. I broke up with him, pandemic hit, and I was really left alone with my thoughts in a new way. I met a guy off (BDSM) Tumblr who was a professing Catholic. We messed around online for a bit but one day we had a really long phone call about religion. I told him where I was at and he just listened and supported that. He told me why he liked the Catholic Church even when I questioned him about it. I started looking into the Church's teachings and saw they were pro-life, side B, affirmed Hell, and a bunch of other things I just could never believe, so I set it aside. Then the 7th anniversary of my suicide attempt hit, which is always a harder time of year for me. The trees are all dying and I'm confronted with the memories of how horrific the hospital was, how desperate I was to escape life, how much I'd been hurting. I just felt this deep desire to try out the Catholic thing. To figure out the theological issues I had as I went. I prayed about it and signed up for RCIA pretty much a day or two after that, and from there it was... just a landslide. Once I was willing to give God an inch He gave back miles. My pride was my biggest issue through the whole thing, and like an excellent Father He just held my hand and guided me through it. I don't think Mama ever forgot those first few Rosaries I prayed. The Lord is so patient and generous and faithful. I remember one of the things that really helped me was the purpose of suffering, and specifically the idea that God suffers with us. There's a lot more to all of this, including more discernment between Eastern Orthodoxy and the Catholic Church, as well as looking into the historicity of Christ, wrestling with the concept of Infallibility, etc., but I think those are the big points of my conversion! For the record, I fully affirm all of the Church's teachings now, although some of them were easier and quicker to understand than others, but He helped me get there in the end. Also, ya girl's been completely celibate for almost an entire year! I found out that a lot of my issues had to do more with pride and vanity than with lust, but that's a whole other story.

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popatochisssp · 3 years

Note

Am I allowed to ask what happens when the Empire discovers the rogue diamonds? If you dont have the time feel free to just delete this uwu

In terms of how it goes down, it’s definitely a case of Pointing Spiderman Meme meets Caveman Spongebob Meme!

Red and Black Diamond (the Underfells) are always out at the furthest reaches, looking for new territory to conquer or claim, and it’s not unthinkable that they might, entirely by chance, come across a downright antique vessel that’s nonetheless in perfect working order--and very obviously gem-tech.

They hail it and as soon as the feed connects and each pair of diamonds realizes they’re looking at another pair of diamonds, it’s basically a very dignified, perfectly calm and measured......... Okay, it’s not even remotely like that, just a very loud, “YOU!!!” and then a lot of barked and half-sputtered questions and demands while they all try to get answers from each other.

Eventually, when the dust is settled and all the diamonds know about each other, the Outer Galaxy Diamonds are invited to Homeworld, to visit or maybe see if they can find a niche to fill...?

Pink and Olive (the Horrorswaps) visit and decide they’d like to stay. It seems to them that not all that much effort is being put into proper recording and preservation of gem history--and considering it’s apparently a giant blank before a certain point, that’s kind of an embarrassing oversight!

Olive rolls up his sleeves and gets to digging around in the archives they do have, cleaning up and organizing and maintaining records with meticulous detail--in triplicate and not only in digital format.

Pink goes out and even sometimes off-planet a little more, actually getting his hands dirty with the restoration and preservation of historic gem buildings and sites that might otherwise be demolished to make way for newer things or forgotten altogether.

Their combined efforts spark a greater interest in gem history and heritage and they’re both very happy about that.

Cubic and Moissanite (the Underglooms) decide to stay on Homeworld, too, and in searching for some area to be of use, they realize that the only diamond even remotely handling recreation is Orange Diamond--maybe they can help there somehow? Orange, who is unfortunately often busy as the figurehead of the Empire and can only make time to host about a third as many balls and galas as he’d like to, thinks that’s a fantastic idea and welcomes their support wholeheartedly!

Cubic starts to monitor (at least for Homeworld gems) logs of cycles worked and downtime taken/given, picking out trends and calling out areas (and supervisors) with bad ratios of the two.

Moissanite regularly digs through accounts and images of colonies and gem-occupied planets and drafts up (what are essentially) ads and travel brochures for them, so that gems who need to go somewhere to take a break can find just what they’re looking for.

Both of them--independently and sometimes together--also start regularly patronizing Sea Spires and Gardens and such, trying to get gems excited about going to visit them. It works pretty well because the Imitation Diamonds are celebrities of a sort, a notch or so down from the legitimate political powers that are the Diamonds, but still very big and sparkly gems that are Diamond-adjacent and it’s actually a big deal to hang out where they hang out; where you might even get to see one of them! In person!

Cloudy and Pepper (the Horrorswapfells) visit, but ultimately have no interest in staying longterm. It’s too loud and busy and structured for their tastes, as gems who’ve never really been part of a caste system like that. They return to their ‘colony’ where they’re basically benevolent gods whose only responsibility is to look after some organics that mostly look after themselves anyway. ...Still, it becomes gemkind’s worst kept secret that if you feel you can’t fit into Homeworld’s society, or if you don’t want to, or if you’re trying to escape something or someone--you can always run to their colony to find a little sanctuary.

Cloudy doesn’t mind showing runaways how to relax and what’s to do for fun around here. So many gems who really just need to deprogram a bit and just be who and what they are...

Pepper finds he likes looking after and protecting the new arrivals, like fulfilling his purpose but without having to be on Homeworld to do it.

Both are quite happy to use their Diamond strength and status as a shield for any gem that comes calling looking for so-and-so-- plenty of “how should i know if your pearl is here? you’re bothering a diamond over this?” and “TELL YOU WHAT-- COME GET YOUR SEA GLASS. I MAY BE DEFECTIVE, BUT IF YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN CHALLENGE A DIAMOND...”

Raw & Champagne (the Horrorfells) have...a bit of a conundrum... In that one wants to stay and one wants to go. Homeworld is...fine, but Raw is pretty keenly aware that he doesn’t really Fit into it, too unrefined to find any niche truly comfortable. Champagne is, of course, perfect and could find someplace to fit quite easily, becoming the Diamond and leader he was always meant to be. ...But he finds himself conflicted, not wanting to leave Raw to go back out into the universe alone or to force him to stay somewhere he’d be miserable and out of place. Luckily, they figure out a compromise.

Raw doesn’t really know what to make of it when his brother tells him to go gather up as many off-colors and defectives and broken gems that want to be elsewhere, but he’s liked those kinds of gems the best since they got here, so he does just that.

Champagne graciously offers his assistance in lightening some of Yellow Diamond’s workload, guiding and steering and shaping the course of their collective society. ...He’ll be doing this work remotely, of course, as he and his brother will be returning to the abandoned sectors from whence they came, reestablishing and reinhabiting those places that were obviously supposed to be part of the Empire. Red and Black can expand into new areas, and he and Raw will retake the old.

Lots of defective and off-color gems are very happy to find a place they can really be both seen and useful! Things were okay on Homeworld, it’s not like there were any crazy shattering policies if you weren’t perfect, but if you didn’t fit in, you kinda knew it. Raw seems quietly, flatteringly fascinated by all of them and Champagne has a knack for figuring out what they can do, if not what they were made for and for some gems, it’s just a better place to be!

Eventually, much much later, the Chameleon Diamonds (the Gastertales) run into somebody or another and pretty much the same thing happens-- a lot of exclamation points and confusion, followed by a tentative offer to check things out and see if they want to find a place to fit in.

Reverse wants frankly no part of Homeworld. Neither he nor his brother have any memory of being Void, the founder of this civilization, and so there’s no real affiliation with or responsibility for gemkind. He wants to get back out there into the universe and get back to living life and exploring...but he’s not going to leave without his brother.

Classic doesn’t really want to stay either. The rigidity of society is hard to adjust to when all you’ve ever really known is total freedom, and he’d also very much like to be back out observing the observable universe as soon as possible. Unfortunately... he does feel a responsibility to stick around for at least a little while. Brown Diamond was quite insistent on it as well and with his motives explained, Classic agreed fully--though it’s a stay of moral obligation at best.

They both dip literally the moment they can, taking communicators with them but honestly with no intention of ever coming back save for some emergency where they were desperately needed. The universe is infinite and time not spent out in it feels wasted!

#skelegems #headcanons #diamond au #horrorfell #hf!sans #hf!papyrus #horrorswap #hs!sans #hs!papyrus #undergloom #ug!sans #ug!papyrus #horrorswapfell #hsf!sans #hsf!papyrus #gastertale #g!sans #g!papyrus #hailstormdeath

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socctime · 3 years

Text

Croods: A New Age Spoilers!!!

Ok, so I just watched this for the first time a couple days ago and I've rewatched it a few times since. But honestly I don't really like how the relationship issue between Guy and Eep plays out.

Also I would like to point out the ages I found for them puts Eep and Guy, BOTH at 19 years old

I get he was in the wrong for some of his comments, but Eep doesn't own up to doing anything wrong at all. It's all on guy to say "Sorry it was my fault." and take full responsibility.

The first thing that could be considered hostile/passive aggressive is when Guy recommends trying the shower, the first time, when we see it played out it comes out more like "I really enjoyed this thing/experience and I want to share that with you." but when he's remembering it later on it's with a much more condescending tone. I don't know if that was supposed to be how he thought it might have sounded or if it was to try and make more of a jerk so he was deserving of Eep snapping at him?

The next big thing is when Guy catches Eep and Dawn trying to sneak back in after their joy ride. It has literally been one day since they arrived, and Eep has already broken a rule of the Bettermans (even though they are kinda shitty and manipulative but they don't know this yet) by taking Dawn outside of the wall. Guy is upset and frustrated, because the Bettermans made it clear that they only built the wall for protection after what happened to Guy and his parents. So in his eyes it's reasonable to stay inside, and he's probably worried about how the Bettermans will react if they find out what happened.

Also once Guy finds out that Dawn had a very severe bee sting after one joy ride outside the wall, he gets more exasperated when Eep keeps insisting that it's fine despite the fact that Dawn is clearly not ok. When Guy berates her after Dawn almost passes out, saying it wasn't smart and Dawn could've been seriously hurt, and that Eep needs to think about these things, Eep gets upset.

She deflects by asking Guy why he's acting how he is, doesn't he like adventure? Guy responds that no he likes not dying, and things are different now. (most likely because he feels more safe than he has been in a while, with literally traveling by himself since his parents died and the constant danger the Croods were in we were shown in the first part of the movie)

Eep then explains that Dawn needed to get out, that she's just like her, and the walls are her cave. Mind you Guy hasn't really talked to Dawn at all that we've been shown just followed her around and helped with her chores a bit, he seemed to mostly just explore the tree house. Eep doesn't really go into further detail other than her and Dawn grew up similar. Guy, who has just been told that not only did they go on a joy ride outside, but Dawn was injured in that short time and Eep keeps insisting everything is fine, snaps and says Dawn and Eep are not similar because Dawn isn't a Cave Girl.

Now I do think Guy could have phrased it better or handled it a bit different, I don't think he meant Cave Girl in a derogatory way, but it came across that way. I think he meant it more as in Dawn isn't as tough as you are but it came out more hurtful. Eep then decides once Guy brings Dawn up in the elevator she'll give him a Cave Girl

Guy probably not wanting to get anyone in trouble tries to hide the fact that Dawn is injured, first by trying to avoid the dinner table altogether then by sitting next to her at the table to try and hide her hand/the bee sting from site. Eep then finishes climbing the tree after Guy and is hostile towards Guy. Which I get she was hurt by his words, but after confronting Guy about how he sounded and what's wrong with Cave people? He says "There's nothing wrong with Cave people."

Eep is very passive aggressive here after eating quite messily/ breaking a jug after drinking all the contents. When Guy asks why she's acting that was she claims to be acting like a Cave Girl, then claiming that it's not good enough for him anymore, which Guy immediately denies.

Phil then cuts in about the "deal" he and Grug made about the Bettermans keeping Guy while the Croods keep Eep and leave. Then a whole argument between both families break out, Guy tries to cut in but gets yelled at by everyone. After a bit more shouting Grug tells Guy to get up because they're leaving.

Guy in disbelief repeats that Grug wanted to get rid of him, but now wants to bring him with? Grug then (poorly) defends that Guy wanted to take his daughter away, throwing the promises Guy had made to Eep early on in the film back in his face. Guy reasonably pissed says to Grug "there is no privacy with you people." Eep then cuts in "Cave People?" Which Guy quickly responds "That's not what I said." He then says things are better now, which Eep seems to take offense to. He clarifies not starving, and no sleep pile, when asked to clarify the sleep pile he yells that it reeks.

(The only sleep pile previously shown in the movie showed his discomfort with it before he goes to sleep. Upon waking up in the morning it's shown he was squished under Chunky and he groans "Another glorious morning," before getting stepped on by Chunky.)

Eep takes offense to the diss on the sleep pile, and then says at least she smells like herself and she doesn't know what Guy smells like. Claiming she doesn't even know who he is anymore. Eep then says that it's this place, and before she can think of a proper work for how much she hates it Guy says "It's home!"

Guy says it's Tommorow it's what his parents wanted him to find! Eep declares she clearly doesn't belong in this Tomorrow, and that she's leaving asking if Guy is coming with her. He says he can't, in a small voice, Eep then returns his proposal rock and leaves.

Once again!! They have been at the Bettermans house/farm/compound for a SINGLE DAY!!! Guy has just been reunited with his long lost family friends, he feels safe and clean, for the first time in a long time probably. Life on the road with the Croods is still very dangerous, and he is not built as durable as they are, and he knows this! If the time at the Bettermans had been more drawn out over the course of a few days or weeks Eep's argument would work better. As it stands it's been a single day and Guy also just learned that Grug still doesn't like him enough to not try to give him up the first time someone asks for him.

When Guy is cooling down from the argument he even says he's been staying with the Croods for a while, and I'm going to assume based off what he says to himself. That he generally likes to keep clean, and the Croods don't really do that. So after however long of traveling he's somewhere he can wash up, relax and not worry about predators or dying suddenly, a single day later he learns Grug is trying to get rid of him Eep doesn't care about the consequences of her actions, the Croods want to leave and nobody will hear him out. The Betterman adults are manipulative, Grug doesn't like him enough to not get rid of him, (he didn't really interact with Ugga this movie). He literally has nobody in his corner except for Dawn, kinda, she tries to understand why Eep suddenly says Guy is too different from herself to get along with. Dawn points out that herself and Eep are different but they get along, so why? Eep avoids answering and says it's complicated. Guy after moping in captivity for a bit realizes he was an ass and has flash backs of things he said to Eep. Except they're in a completely different tone of voice or completely lacking context, making it seem like they really wanted him to be solely in the wrong by the end of the movie.

So in the end Guy apologizes and makes up with Eep. But she never ever thinks about what she did, like none of the rules she applied to Guy apply to her? Like he got upset after Dawn's bee sting, and calls Eep a Cave Girl in a tone of voice that sounds derogatory, he's in the wrong, and she has a reason to be upset. But when she upsets him with words or actions, or purposefully taking his words out of context to make him upset or confused, he's not justified in being hurt or angry, he is still in the wrong. I just don't think it's really fair, I would feel different if there had been more effort on Eep's side to also make amends or at least it wasn't portrayed as Guy is the only wrong one.

I do think Guy and Eep are cute together, but it just made it seem they aren't on equal footing or whatever it's called.

I hope this makes sense, it got a bit rambly.

#the croods: a new age #the croods #guy the croods #guy crood #eep crood #ugga crood #grug crood #dawn betterman #phil betterman #hope betterman #dreamworks #this got kinda long #and a bit ranty #just my take i guess

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azaffranist · 4 years

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Frozen 2 deleted/early content

On the road to F2 there were tons of leaks and I saved as many of them as I could in the fear that Disney would delete them (because they loved to shut down whole websites because of that back in the day). As a result I have a lot of pictures saved on my phone and looking back on them... some don’t sound quite right because it’s definitely not what I saw in the movie. So here’s everythinggg I have. I did my best to organize stuff a bit but there are so many things it was... hard. Feel free to add more stuff in reblogs, replies and such!

Something to note is that we won’t take into account the “officially” released deleted content, which would include everything that’s in the Blu-ray, because basically everyone already saw that (Home, I Seek the Truth, Get This Right, Unmeltable Me, the Secret Room scene, Hard Nokks, etc). Generally, we won’t be analyzing deleted scenes from the official trailers, either, because of this very reason. Something “official” that we will consider, though, are the deleted clips animators have been releasing on Instagram and other sites, because those aren’t that popular.

Before starting here’s the link to all the deleted F2 lines I could find as well as some other additions. The post itself has even more links to other posts containing deleted content so have fun clicking on links.

Last thing to mention, none of the merch photos here are taken by me. I got most of them from the leaks channel of the Arendelle Kingdom server during 2019. If any image in this post belongs to someone here and you want to be credited please let me know and I’ll edit the post.

This post is long. Like really, really, lagging-my-browser-as-I’m-writing-it long. So grab some popcorn and get comfortable or just take a look at what interests you.

So without further ado, let’s get started!

Deleted Artbook Content

One of the most exciting leaks we got were definitely these sample artbook excerpts. None of these pages made it into the final artbook, though.

This piece definitely belongs in Iduna and Agnarr’s backstory, in which the Northuldra leader wasn’t an ordinary man but a shapeshifter.

The biggest picture in this page points to yet another version of Iduna and Agnarr’s backstory. It’s possible to deduce Bruni hadn’t been fully developed yet or created at all since the fire isn’t pink.

The one on the bottom right seems to be an earlier version of the “forest freed” scene in the final movie, or maybe it happened in another moment altogether.

The most interesting of the three, though, is this one. Nothing in the movie points to the existence of a place like this. It’s interesting to note that this peculiar house looks very similar to Iceland’s “elf houses”, tied to the myth of the Huldufólk, “hidden people”, who were said to be small and live in a parallel world, being able to make themselves visible at will.

These are definitely the inhabitants of the Enchanted Lands, who look completely different than in the final movie with their long cloaks, hoods and staves. They look like mages. Were these the very first concepts of the Northuldra, or another group of characters altogether that ended up being scrapped? Only Ahtohallan knows...

Even though the tree and the vegetation illustration is in the book, there’s one missing and that one is the bottom left. One of the most popular theories in the fandom regarding that illustration is that it was an Arendellian military camp tied to the expedition to the Enchanted Lands. I think what we got in the movie is a watered down version of a much more violent and sinister endeavor to invade the Northuldra. The above mentioned deleted scene of the battle of Arendellians agains Northuldrans is proof of that.

This one shows the Arendellian gang and most likely Mattias looking at the walls of a cave with drawings on it depicting the Nokk among other things that I can’t quite make out. I’ve heard people say that an earlier version of F2 involved the gang encountering Mattias in a volcanic cave and that’s where this scene would go, but I don’t know if those are rumors or there’s an actual source. If someone happens to have knowledge on this topic in particular please let me know and I’ll update the post.

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Incomplete Frozen Fan Fest books and their alternate scenes

As I’ve mentioned in another post, Frozen Fan Fest happened on October 4th, 2019, and it was the official release of the movie’s first merchandise. We were all super excited to look at the storybooks and read the ending!

Except there was no ending and the books ended abruptly right before Olaf’s death, completely skipping over Show Yourself.

You hear that? “Elsa bravely dives into the Dark Sea”. We know the Dark Sea scene was shortened and that’s more proof.

This section of a Frozen 2 storybook explains how it went a bit better. After Elsa was defeated twice by the ferocious waves she climbed up some giant rocks and dove back in. Only Ahtohallan knows how that would be effective in this situation and not a waste of strength, but hey, I’m sure it looked super cool and I’d be down to see it.

”Elsa trudged through terrible winds and thick snow”... um... she didn’t? This might’ve been created when Show Yourself wasn’t a thing yet and her path through Ahtohallan was just that, trudging through terrible winds and snow, and not an inspiring song about self-love and finding yourself. I wonder how that scene would’ve looked.

Maybe we can find something relating to that “unused” section of Ahtohallan in a book called “Anna, Elsa and the Secret River”. Basically Iduna tells them that there’s a secret river out there and after the lullaby Elsa and Anna go nuts and try to look for the river outside. Seems like it was all a shared acid trip because next morning they seriously consider it was a dream.

Maybe here they didn’t realize they were in front of a river, because “Glaciers are rivers of ice” and this is what that Ahtohallan Elsa ventured into originally would’ve looked like? The white river doesn’t know...

This is by far one of my favorite ones. I wouldn’t exactly describe post-Show Yourself as a moment of calm and peace. Maybe peace but definitely not calm. Then it says that the signal meant that “she managed to cross the sea”. That’s a really weird way to describe “horrifying ice statue of colonialist grandpa killing an innocent native man”. I don’t know if they’re hiding the actual plot here of if they hadn’t yet worked out all the details of SY and the moment Elsa found the truth.

Anna has her cloak on as she finds the truth. Readers have no idea what this enlightening truth is because the ice statue is indistinguishable.

As it shows here, the original Iduna being Northuldra reveal was going to happen in a different way. I’m glad we got that final version... Because wow, Elsa and Anna are completely unable to connect the dots here. Anna was smart enough to figure out what to do after receiving Elsa’s message, c’mon! This should’ve been piece of cake...

Iduna called Elsa “Little Snow”. This points to an alternate All is Found scene and we’ll talk about that more in depth later.

Same scene. Translation is:

“While tucking the little princesses in, Queen Iduna sang them a lullaby about a far-away river called Ahtohallan, which holds all the answers about the past.

“Does Ahtohallan know why I have powers?” asked Elsa her mother.

“If it exists, it definitely knows that and much more,” answered the Queen.

So in this earlier version, Elsa has always asked herself if Ahtohallan had the answer to her powers... Doesn’t this make Show Yourself work even better? Here she always looked for that answer and she’d learn that she is the answer. I wonder why they took it out because it makes a lot of sense and would give buildup to Show Yourself.

Here what really matters are the squares with text. Olaf never ran through moss or became covered in it. Olaf never looks down a brook to be met by Nokk’s gaze from below. Maybe it’s an alternate When I’m Older?

And relating to that particular piece of merch:

Seems like in an earlier version, the Nokk was associated with waterfalls.

Everyone shut up there’s SWORD ANNA here. Found in a coloring book. I don’t speak Italian but Google Translate says:

“Anna is a brave one: she does not hesitate to draw her sword to defend her sister Elsa and her friends from any new threat.”

GOOD FOR HER! This is definitely from the version we were shown in the teaser, when Anna wielding an actual sword and slicing someone with it was still a thing. Man, how I wanted that to happen...

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Alternate fully animated scenes found in animators’ posts

After the release of Frozen 2, animators started to post scenes they had worked on and showing the process behind them. Some of them were deleted, are different in the final movie, or have a completely different score accompanying them.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Adam Green (@agreenster) on Apr 6, 2020 at 5:31pm PDT

A completely different dialogue during the boat scene. Pretty heartbreaking and it’s even more buildup for TNRT, when Anna was left by literally everyone she loved in the planet.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Trent Correy (@trentanimation) on Apr 14, 2020 at 8:50am PDT

Apparently, for whatever reason, Gale was going to appear in the castle first.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Trent Correy (@trentanimation) on Mar 29, 2020 at 10:51am PDT

Olaf’s revival was going to be way different, and this implies that his death might’ve been different, too. Maybe his snow just dissipated and didn’t go anywhere? Maybe instead of being neatly placed by a waterfall, it fell all over the Enchanted Lands? I have no idea.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Mariusz Furmanczyk (@mariofurmanczyk) on Mar 21, 2020 at 7:11pm PDT

I absolutely LOVE this one, okay, and I have no idea why they’d leave it out. Turn your sound on and listen to the much more tragic alternate score. But more importantly, pay attention when she turns to solid ice: just like in F1 with Anna, her last breath is visible. Beautiful parallels, poetic cinema, and I’m hurt and confused and I want it in the movie. Excuse me while I call the police.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Mariusz Furmanczyk (@mariofurmanczyk) on Feb 26, 2020 at 5:47pm PST

Here the only change is the different score as she unfreezes. I love it so much. It’s so tragic, heavy and powerful. You can basically hear the fragility of Elsa’s fate as the ice breaks and she falls. Help. Here, here, and here, you can see other glimpses of this beautiful alternate score. Once again I’m calling the police and telling them Disney hurt my feelings by leaving this out.

I’ve hit the 5 videos limit already, but here is a link to an animation by jdublish. The change isn’t the scene itself but the completely different siren call Elsa hears. Much more ominous and creepy and I also love it, even though I have to admit the final siren call sounds catchier and more iconic. Also, kids under five won’t start crying of fear when they hear it.

Then there were also plenty of changes in the Elsa vs Nokk scene and we got to see one. Thanks to @justlookatthosesausages for pointing this out and letting me use her gif! The original video was set to private for some reason so I can’t post a Youtube link, but this is @justlookatthosesausages‘ gif:

Elsa struggled way more in the original version. Go to her post to see a comparison with the final version.

And now the awaited All is Found alternate scene! Thanks a lot to @lovewillthaw-j who helped me collect all the scenes.

First two scenes from the trailers: the Official one, Elsa looks up and Iduna gazes at the northern lights.

The Japanese one, in which Iduna kisses Elsa’s hands. @catloafs pointed that out after F2′s release so thanks!

And the last two were found by @antoineharrakblog, so thanks for that! Here and here.

BUT there’s no need to click a bazillion links because @lovewillthaw-j‘s post reconstructs in a single video what the original scene would’ve been like. Go watch it!

UPDATE: Additions by @antoineharrakblog. Thanks a lot!

Here we can see that originally, as the elements fled and Kristoff held Olaf, he yelled, “Wow, you’re heavy!”. Don’t know why this would be removed. Maybe they wanted to keep the scene serious? Maybe they needed to shorten the movie so that it didn’t exceed 100 minutes and cut little jokes like that?

And here, showing Elsa seeing how Iduna saved her father, there’s some deleted dialogue: “Get the prince out of here!” “King Runeard, what did you decide?” in addition to a much more tense score in general.

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UPDATE: Screencaps of deleted/alternate scenes

Thanks a lot to @antoineharrakblog for bringing all of these pictures to my attention! Multiples screencaps have appeared in different magazines or books that clearly didn’t make it to the movie.

Anna never makes that movement in the final movie. There’s more proof of an alternate/extended “Elsa and Anna talk” scene.

This is another one. There exists a lower quality version of this picture which I can’t find right now, but it shows that Anna and Elsa are sharing kransekake in this particular scene (the particular food that we can see at the beginning of OFA).

These are all part of the All is Found scene we’ve been talking about. In the final movie we can see that All is Found serves as a sort of “bridge” between the past and the present, as it transitions from Iduna singing the song to Elsa to Elsa in the castle, reminiscing. But originally, Iduna finished singing All is Found in the past. There’s proof of this here.

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UPDATE: Novelization deleted content

This information was provided by @theupsidedownpyramid so thanks a lot! There are some really interesting deleted scenes in the novelization.

In this one, Elsa felt the urge to release her magic after hearing the voice at the end of All is Found.

In the novelization Mattias and Yelena’s (or Yelana? Disney will never decide) relationship was a lot deeper than what was shown in the movie.

For more information and a more thorough analysis, read @theupsidedownpyramid‘s reblog!

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Miscellaneous

So there’s only one image in this section but believe me, it’s so worth it.

An animator casually mentioned that there was going to be a head kiss scene. Process it. Can’t? I can’t either.

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Wow I’m TIRED. I must’ve missed something but that’s all my brain can handle as of now. Thank quarantine for giving me the opportunity to work on this post all day.

Disney committed war crimes when they deleted some of these scenes. I have only one question: Why in the world would they do that? And more information might see the light of day in the future. I’ll never get tired of trying to piece together the convoluted puzzle that is the original Frozen 2.

I will update this post if I remember something else or if someone else has more content to share. Let’s reconstruct F2 together to visualize that movie Disney deemed too cool for us!

UPDATE: Into the Unknown: the Making of Frozen 2 Documentary finally has a concrete release date, June 26th. Let’s hope we can see more stuff then!

#frozen 2 #frozen #elsa #anna #frozen analysis #frozen 2 analysis #kristoff #sven #olaf #frozen 2 deleted content #disney

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joezworld · 3 years

Text

Fools in Love (3/10)

Worst Thieves Ever

The next week passed in a blur of emotions and happiness for both engines.

Henry was astonished that he'd managed to miss all of the now-obvious signs that he was romantically attracted to Bear, and was now fully in the throes of "happy sickness", and genuinely felt better when Bear was nearby.

Bear, meanwhile, was on top of the world. Acknowledging that he was now actually in love meant that all of the pent-up emotions from the past decade were coming out all at once. He was downright chipper when he was alone, and when Henry was nearby, he was so absurdly upbeat that the other engines were wondering if The Fat Controller had bought another Hymek and swapped the numbers again!

“So,” Bear asked Henry as they sat in the yard between trains. “What do we do, now that we’re together?”

“I don’t know,” Henry said thoughtfully. “I know that humans go on things called ‘dates’, where they go to dinner and then the cinema, but I don’t think we can do that...”

“We certainly wouldn’t fit into the building.”

“And I don’t think we could eat dinner without bothering our crews.”

“Unless you want to pull a Thomas and crash through the restaurant wall.”

“Hah! We could always save that for the holidays.”

“Henry’s getting awful chummy with the Hymek, isn’t he?” James muttered suspiciously from the coaling stage.

“Goodness gracious me,” Duck said. “It’s almost like he’s known Bear for an extended period of time. What is it that happens when you spend a long time near somebody? I think you become friends with them.”

“You know what I mean. It’s like they’re different locomotives.”

“Perhaps their personalities contain more than one side. I hear that some engines can achieve that.”

“And what are you implying by that??”

“Your paint is dirty.”

“AAACK! Someone get a rag and some polish!”

46 040 smiled to herself as she watched the steam engines bicker. This was a funny little island, with so much more character than the Midlands.

Engines were nicer here, and they welcomed her as a friend on the first day she arrived - even if it had taken some time for their in-joke to be explained to her - she couldn’t believe that she’d rescued Spamcan’s rescuers. There was no in-fighting, no yard politics, just close-knit friends, even across class lines.

They also didn’t seem to give any mind to ‘how the railway should work’, as some of her classmates might say. As she backed down onto her train, she was acutely aware that the only engine newer than her was the laughing diesel-hydraulic in the yard. Everywhere else she looked, there was nothing but steam, steam, and more well-kept steam.

Modernization seems to have missed this island altogether. She thought as passengers bustled into the coaches. Even the rolling stock was antique - a bunch of ‘Big 4′ era corridor coaches, all nicely painted into a unified livery. On the mainland, the Mark 1s had displaced these old carriages from even maintenance trains, but Sodor was using them on top link services.

“Eurgh. Can you believe this, 40?” Oiled an unpleasant voice from alongside her.

She glared at the Class 56, annoyed by both his existence and his sudden appearance. From what she understood, the North Western Region often borrowed engines from other regions temporarily, which explained why she was still on the island and why the destable 56 was sullying this otherwise pleasant station. “What can I believe, 031?”

“This!” The diesel sniffed dismissively as 040 rolled her eyes. He had evidently decided that anything new to him was bad - a problem considering that he was barely two months old. “All of this outdated junk! I feel like I’ve been driven into a black-and-white film! Steam engines here, teak coaches there! I don’t think these vans are even fitted with brakes!” He looked back at his train - a line of surly looking vans glared back, clearly insulted. The brakevan on the rear seemed to be resigned to a difficult run before the train left the station. “I am immeasurably pleased that this is my last train on this island.”

“I think it’s charming.” 040 said quietly.

“You would.” 031′s tone was cold.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’d fit in here - you’re non-standard, just like they are.”

040 wanted to say something that would turn the air as blue as her paintwork, but before she could do so, a whistle blew, and 031′s driver began to drive the rude engine out of the station. “I don’t believe we shall meet again - your class’ time is coming sooner than you think.” 031 said with startling levels of nonchalance as he rumbled out of the station, his vans angrily trailing behind him.

“And good riddance to you too, you slag sucking shitstain.” 040 muttered to herself as the train rattled out of sight.

Shortly, her own guard blew his whistle, and she set off with the midday express.

Crovan's Gate Works - That night

"I didn’t think we'd be back here so soon." Henry whispered to Bear as they rolled into the Works yard.

"I didn’t either." Bear said, trying to disturb the rest of their train.

It was well past midnight, and both breakdown cranes, the support coach, and the battered Class 46 had nodded off on the slow ride from the accident site.

"Is she all right?" Henry asked quietly. He was leading the train, and couldn’t see.

"As well as she can be." Considering that the lightweight parcel vans had been reduced to so much kindling by the accident, it was amazing that the 46 was as uninjured as she was - just a few torn and warped panels, some gravel abrasions, and a broken nose.

If Bear was being honest, he thought that she'd gotten off better than the 56, who was physically intact, but had been subjected to one of the longest and angriest dressing-downs that The Fat Controller had ever given.

The poor engine had looked utterly shell-shocked as he took what remained of his train on to Barrow.

The two were silent as they pushed the sleeping 46 into the works proper, and then backed the breakdown train into its siding. Their crews were dead on their feet after eight hours plus overtime, and shuffled off to the works' bunkhouse for some well needed rest.

Henry and Bear watched them leave, not even remotely tired. Since their mutual revelation last week, neither engine had been able to sleep for very long, their minds spinning with thoughts of each other.

Even after a week, they had run out of all possible conversation, but could still spend hours without a word between them.

"D'ya think that this counts as a date?" Bear said after many minutes of comfortable silence.

"I think an argument could be made." Henry said thoughtfully. "We did something together, but from what I understand, usually there's supposed to be 'romance', and 'courting', not smashed vans and breakdown cranes. Also, I assume that, on a date, we should be enjoying ourselves and not wondering if someone is hurt."

Bear considered that for a long moment. It had been a pretty terrible date, considering they were clearing up a train crash. "Do you want me to court you?"

"I think that's supposed to happen before you fall in love, and I already have."

"Oh. Then what do we do if we're already..."

"Madly in love with each other?"

"Yes."

"I don't know."

"Well," Bear said finally. "Then we'll have to figure that out together."

------

Three Days Later

Henry didn’t see the 46 after he and Bear left in the morning - the massive service disruption caused by the accident meant that he spent most of the weekend shuttling ballast wagons back and forth between Cronk and Arlesburgh, as well as soothing Gordon’s temper over having to ‘dilly-dally in work zones all day’.

Fortunately, there wasn’t a great deal of damage on the main line, and after three days of frantic work, the maintenance of way crews had put everything back to normal. Henry was the first train through the rebuilt section with a massively-delayed Flying Kipper, and was surprised at how much damage the men had managed to reverse - the only remaining signs of the accident was the torn up lineside vegetation.

Arriving at Barrow, he found the yard in disarray - three days worth of goods trains were clogging the small yard, and the diesel shunter was so overworked that he forgot to be rude to Henry as he took away the fish vans.

The yard was so crowded that Henry couldn’t even get into the sheds to rest before his next train, and was forced to sit in the middle of the yard while his crew went for their tea break.

He wanted to get some rest as well, but the shunter was moving around the yard at such a rate that it was impossible to get more than a few minutes of rest before the Class 03 scuttled by with more vans.

After one large rake of hoppers were shoved out of the way, another engine became visible a few roads over - it was the 46.

Henry was surprised to see her - there hadn’t been enough time to fix any of her panels in the last three days, and indeed, she was just as battered and bruised as she was when he and Bear left her in the works. The only indication that anyone had done anything at all to her was the existence of a splint that had been taped over her broken nose to re-set it.

More worryingly, she looked almost haunted. Her eyes were wide, with a thousand yard stare, and she was mumbling something to herself over and over again.

“they don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want me”

Henry wanted to ask her what was wrong, but before he could, a shout arose from deeper into the yard. The shunter had split a switch with some wagons and was now trapped in a dead-end siding. Men began rushing out with tools to re-rail the cars, but it was obvious that it would take some time. The yard master, seeing this incident, didn’t go over to the shunter, but instead made a beeline for Henry, his crew trailing behind.

“If he’s done for, then we need someone to organize this mess!” The man called, clearly not giving Henry a choice in the matter. “And you’re it!”

---

After 35 minutes of careful shunting, Henry was on his final shunting move before he could enter the sheds and rest, while the men seemed to be turning the corner on freeing the 03.

“Right, then there’s this Peak!” Called the yardmaster, who was riding on Henry’s footplate with a sheet of train orders in his hand. “It’s the 0Z59 for tonight, just put it somewhere out of the way.”

He scanned the yard. “Track 33 looks clear. let’s leave it there and be done.”

“Zero-Zed?” Henry asked. “You’re not going to move her, are you?” A zero headcode was intended for light engine moves, while a Z prefix meant that the train was to be handled specially by the dispatcher. The 46 was battered enough to require special treatment, but her unrepaired condition meant that she should not be moving under her own power.

“Nah, they’re gonna send an engine for ‘er later,” The yardmaster replied. “She’s going right to Derby.”

Henry sighed as he buffered up to the still-catatonic diesel. Sometimes life was easier if you didn’t ask questions.

“they don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want me” The diesel said, her voice thick with horror. Her eyes looked at Henry’s face but saw nothing. It was obvious that she was off in her own little nightmarish world.

Then again, Henry had never had an “easy” life.

“What are they going to do to her at Derby?” He asked slowly, afraid of the answer he’d be given.

After flipping through his papers, the yard master gave a one word answer: “Scrap”

Henry stared morosely at the 46. She didn’t deserve this at all.

It took only a few minutes to move the 46 to an isolated siding near the sheds. As his driver uncoupled her from him, the 46 abruptly jerked out of her trance. She looked at Henry and his driver, her eyes suddenly clear and full of understanding.

“Save me. Please.” She said quietly. “They’re going to kill me.”

Henry was struck dumb by her request. The 46 had put more emotion in one sentence than some locomotives did in their entire lives. He wasn’t the quickest of thinkers to begin with, and now he had no idea of what to even say, let alone how he could help.

Fortunately, Sean - his driver - was much faster on the uptake. “Do you still work?” He asked her conspiratorially.

Both engines looked down at him. “Yes.” The 46 said after a moment. “They tested my motor and it works fine but they still said I wasn’t good enough to fix and oh god I’m going to die...” She trailed off in horror.

Sean turned an interesting shade of pale as he set the diesel’s handbrake. “We’ll do something. Just you wait.”

With that, he clambered back into Henry’s cab and set off for the sheds.

“We have to do something and I have no idea how we’re going to do it.” He said as soon as they were out of earshot of the diesel.

So concerned was Henry that he barely noticed Bear sitting in the shed as he pulled in.

“Is everything all right?” Bear asked as he saw the look on Henry’s face.

“They’re going to kill that 46.” Henry said without prompting. “She’s barely damaged and they’re going to take her to Derby and cut her up.”

“Right.” said Bear, looking like he just took a sack of bricks to the face. “Let’s figure out how we’re going to fix that.”

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

The harried yardmaster burst into the sheds. “Alright, up you get! The Hymek’s failed and we need you to drag his sorry carcass to the works!”

Henry, who had been pretending to be sleeping, set off at once.

Entering the yard proper, he found Bear at the head end of a train of cement tankers.

"Ah! Henry!" Bear called out in the least convincing voice anyone had ever heard. "As you can see, my complicated and unreliable gearbox has failed, rendering me immobile. Can you please pull me to the works?"

"Of course Bear!" Henry said in the same way that one would discuss the weather. "I will tow you to the works so they can fix your complicated and unreliable gearbox!"

The yardmaster watched in confusion as Henry backed down onto Bear's train. It was obvious that they were planning something, but what? This was about on par for a steam engine's level of deception, but diesels were usually craftier than this.

After a few minutes, Henry set off - or rather, he didn’t.

As he set off, his wheels slipped suddenly, his driver immediately closed the regulator, and both engines disappeared into a cloud of steam as Henry wheeshed in faux pain.

"Oh dear! He called from within the cloud. "I seem to have suffered a mechanical malfunction of some kind! Whatever will I do?"

"Who gives a toss about you!" Wailed the Class 03. "What about my work? You just blocked off half the yard!"

It was true - Bear had failed just before the switch to the main line, and when Henry had backed down onto him, he had completely covered the points. Now that he had failed as well, a large portion of the yard was inaccessible.

"I am terribly sorry." Henry didn't sound like he meant it. "Another engine will have to move us, as we cannot possibly move ourselves."

To his credit, the Class 03 tried, but with Henry and Bear's combined weight (and Henry holding the brakes on when nobody was looking), his little wheels just slipped on the tracks. "Super Rescue my buffers!" He scowled as the yard master started pulling his hair out. The yard was in a worse state than before, and there were no other engines that could reach the failed train.

Unless...

"Does that 46 work? The man yelled at his underlings, in the process missing the elated looks that flashed across Henry and Bear's faces.

"I think so!" Said one of the men. "They drove it here last night."

"Right!" He said with no small amount of relief. "Get that thing going - it'll be Crovan's problem and they can deal with it."

It took a few minutes for a crew to be found and for the 46 to be started, but soon enough she was being backed down onto the increasingly long train.

Henry and his crew watched with anticipation. Instead of damping his fire, Tim the fireman had been shoveling more and more coal into Henry’s firebox, while Sean had been nonchalantly walking around both engines and putting large amounts of sand under each driving wheel. As 46 040 was backed down onto the train, he gave a signal to Bear and his crew before climbing back into Henry’s cab.

The yard crew quickly coupled 040 to Henry, and waved to the signalman, who lined the points and dropped the signal arm.

The arm dropped. Henry and Bear's eyes followed it as it fell into the 'clear' position.

"Now!" Henry bellowed, and Bedlam ensued.

Sean hauled back on Henry’s whistle cord while shoving the throttle into the wide open position, sending sparks into the air as Henry’s wheels spun on the rails for a moment.

At Henry’s whistle, Bear's driver shoved the diesel's throttle to its furthest stop.

Black smoke belched out of both engines as they surged ahead. Henry slammed into the back of 040, shoving her along as his wheels found purchase on the sand covered rails.

Bear, his engine roaring, lurched ahead as he followed Henry, taking the tankers with him. The cement wagons yelled as the slack in their couplings was let out all at once, banging against each other as they were yanked into motion. A ripple of shock whipped all the way down the train, and the coupling in the last tanker was almost ripped out of its buffer beam from the violent departure.

040's crew were shoved forward in their seats by the sudden impact. Her driver had the throttle lever in his hand, and as he flew forward against the control column, he inadvertently shoved her throttle ahead to its furthest stop. The diesel shrieked in surprise as her motor revved to full power and she surged ahead with the rest of the train. 040 was a powerful express diesel, and she quickly began to pull the rest of the train along behind her as her engine reached its highest power setting.

"Go go go!" Henry yelled as the train accelerated away.

The yardmaster and the Class 03 watched in shock as the train thundered out of the yard. In just moments, it had cleared the yard boundary, and in just a few moments more, the last cement tanker was rattling over the lift bridge and onto Sudrian metals.

"What was that?!" The man said as Henry's triumphant whistle faded into the distance.

"More Sodor shite, I'd imagine." Said the little diesel as he rolled back into the yard - as much as he wanted to, he didn’t have time to speculate on what went on in the smokeboxes of those nutcases. "They're always up to some bollocks or another."

-----------

Henry and Bear yelled in triumph as they raced though Vicarstown and into Sodor proper.

"We did it!" Bear shouted.

"We did!" Henry chimed in. "You see that, 46?" He called up to 040. "That’s Sodor! You're safe!"

040 was astonished to the point of tears. "Thank you!" She said, her voice choked with emotion.

--------

Crovan’s Gate

Charles Hatt stared at the trio of unapologetic engines in front of him, unsure of whether he should be proud or upset.

“If I told you three that you damaged several of those cement tankers, the yard switches in Barrow, and exceeded the legal speed limit for a train of that configuration, would you be sorry in the slightest?”

“No sir / I’d do it again / Not at all” came the responses from Henry, Bear, and 040.

The Fat Controller hung his head in his hands. They didn’t even have the good graces to look sorry. The Peak was beaming from buffer to buffer, Bear looked sheepish but unconcerned, and Henry looked positively defiant.

“And you did this...?” He trailed off.

“Because otherwise they were going to kill her.” Henry said with a surprising undercurrent of steel to his voice.

“Yes. That...” Charles said again. “They truly told you that you were to be cut up?” He asked 040, slowly.

“Yes sir.”

“They did sir. There were train orders for it.” Bear said quickly. “She was supposed to be the 0Z59.”

“I see...” He turned to the 46 directly. “Who told you this?”

“Mister Stevens. He came down from the Midlands region to inspect me.”

“I see...” Charles mulled this over. He was vaguely aware of the nasty rumours surrounding the supposed railwaymen that the Midland Region was now employing, and this 'Mister Stevens' seemed like he fit the bill perfectly. “And you two did this... to help out your fellow engine?”

“Yes sir” Henry and Bear said in unison.

One hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

On one hand, these two had just damaged a significant amount of railway property and stolen an engine from a different region.

On the other... he did have a motive power shortage, and 46 040 was a class 4 - exactly what he needed.

And she clearly wasn’t needed by her region any more.

And stealing engines from the scrap heap was practically a Sodor tradition by now.

And he had acquired Bear in an almost equally brazen manner.

Sir Charles Topham Hatt II was many things, but a hypocrite was not one of them. “I must make a phone call. Talk amongst yourselves.”

The engines watched as he retreated to the foreman’s office. The phone was mounted on the outer wall, and his end of the conversation was very audible.

“This is Hatt, get me the London Midland Region please.”

“Yes, can you please inform Director Macready that Charles Hatt needs to speak with him regar- oh hello Lachlan.”

“Why yes, this is about 46 040.”

“I will have you know that we did not ‘brazenly make off with your property.’”

“To begin with, she was needed because the engines pulling the train ha- yes I understand that they didn’t actually fail, but-”

“Now there’s no need for that tone of voice-”

“Lachlan - Lachlan - Damnit Lachlan! That engine has only minor damage to it! You -”

“You clearly do not need it if - Spares? Lachlan, you just said that they were ‘going to the chop soon enough’, what could you possibly need spares for?”

“Now that’s just inappropriate.”

Whatever was said next was obviously deeply impolite, as the Fat Controller lost all patience with the Director of the Midland Region. “Now you listen here you limp-wristed disgrace of a Scotsman. That locomotive is mine now and will be forever more, you understand? If you ever try to come down from the ivory tower that has lodged itself in your rear end and do something about it, I will personally beat you to death with an Adze! Am I understood!”

After a brief silence, he spoke again. “I expect the transfer to be sent over at once. If they aren’t, I will forge your signature myself and I won’t stop with just those papers. Goodbye Lachlan.”

With that he hung up the phone and turned around to face the trio, who could barely contain themselves, and most of the works’ staff, who were surprised to see their controller use such harsh language.

“Don’t just stand there!” He said after a long moment. “Get to work! We have a new engine to repair!”

The noise from the locomotives was deafening.

#ttte #sodor shenangians #fic #headcanon #sodor #ttte henry #ttte bear #oc: Delta #ttte fat controller #literally half of sodor has been stolen from somewhere else #anyone who turns up in barrow yard and looks sad basically gets shanghaied #ttte duck #ttte james #fools in love

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birdyisanightingale · 3 years

Text

THT S4 Theories...

Right, we’re diving in baby... This is going to be an analysis of all the new clips from the teaser trailer.

So first off, we have guardians in what appears to be quite a grand building (circular window), which sort of reminds me of the church they had the mass dedication thing in. Having a security clamp-down is no surprise given what Mayday just pulled off, but having them in the church may suggest a large group of people that are being ‘guarded’. My thoughts are that it’s some sort of mass prayer to return the children that’s also being used as a ‘lets-see-who-looks-guilty-and-rough-them-up-for-intel’ type thing.

Next up we have this group of images from what appears to be the same scene (lighting, costume, injury makeup is consistent). This looks like it’s set directly after the girls find June in the forest, or maybe a few days later considering June is able to walk. Another reason to believe it’s slightly later is that they’ve lost a handmaid; in the final scene of S3, June can be seen carried away by six handmaids (three on either side) but in this scene there are only six of them including June. The usual faces can be seen (Janine, Alma, Brianna) so I’m not worried about a major character death prior to this scene, but it does suggest they may have run into some trouble before getting to this farm.

Which leads me onto my next point: I think this farm is going to serve as their base of operations for continuing Mayday (potentially owned by Mrs.Keyes - Mckenna Grace - and her husband?). They’re clearly in some sort of barn in this scene dressed as Marthas - no doubt this is probably a cover to keep them in hiding (nothing says conspicuous like blood red!). Quick side note: there is seven of them again in this scene so hopefully that means that someone just had to run an errand or something (or, more interestingly, one of them could be acting as a spy now that they appear to have given up being handmaids altogether). There is also an argument between June and Alma in this scene where Alma suggests that they should just leave, which is fair enough considering they have a rare chance of escaping a totalitarian regime of rapists, but June insists that “these women deserve to be helped” - the word women suggests she’s moved her sights from saving children to Handmaids and Marthas now or maybe even the women at Jezebels! That would make a particularly interesting escape as Gilead couldn’t make it a national high-profile search because technically ‘a place like that would never exist in Gilead’...

The ‘squad’ also appears to have picked up a guardian? I have two theories on this: 1) This is the Guardian who was meant to be at Hannah’s school the day June went with Eleanor and he has been working with Mayday and the Martha network for a while. 2) The distinct lack of Nick in S3 was because he was off on the front lines finding soldiers of his own, a new breed of double-agent eyes, to join Mayday. We know not all Guardians/Eyes are pious because of the gay refugee guardian that was processed by Moira, so it’s only logical that there are way more out there. It might be Nick’s way of ‘atoning’ for being a part of the crusade.

Man oh man, this scene gave me chills. First of all, the injuries suggest Lydia has potentially been roughed up by some guardians - most likely in the aftermath of the escaped children. We can’t really see much of the background besides these lights which could suggest a lot of things; she could be in an interrogation setting, she could be in a salvaging (although unlikely as she would be a huge asset in the search for Mayday), she could be in the colonies (again unlikely), or she could have be being held hostage by Mayday and she’s talking to one of the other Handmaids about June. I quite like the last option because she’s using biblical language just like she did at the red centre to try to manipulate them, particularly Janine. Which leads me to my geekier thoughts on this scene: she calls June “beyond redemption” - the bible says that no one is beyond redemption as Jesus embodied salvation. So this is the moment where we can finally plainly see that Lydia isn’t doing this because she truly believes in the religious foundation of Gilead (even though that’s what she may tell herself), she’s doing it because she’s a blind follower of Gilead. Gilead isn’t a religious state, it’s a totalitarian oppressive regime and they are not the same thing.

This appears to be some sort of interrogation/arrest of Lawrence (the evidence is he’s being escorted by two guardians). Again, we can’t really tell much from the background, it’s definitely not something we recognise. My best guess we be that it’s either an eye ‘black-site’ or a room from the old red centre (it looks run down like a public school). It’s also probably likely that this is happening after the Mayday children escape - it would make sense that he would be questioned pretty quickly as June was his handmaid. The language he uses in this scene seems very pivotal - like he’s been pondering it for a while which is consistent with how clever he is - but it suggests that he’s talking to someone of importance, someone who he deems to have the intellect to understand what he’s saying. My guess would be maybe Nick or one of the other commanders; leadership is a bit slim-pickings fro them at the minute with Fred incarcerated, Winslow ‘missing’ and Lawrence as a suspect which may make Gilead’s response to Mayday quite sloppy (no doubt something Lawrence is implying in his ‘next few weeks’ comment).

I’ll be honest, I have absolutely no idea what to think of this (It was barely half a second worth of footage, in my defence!). There is some guy walking behind at about the same pace she is walking which suggests they are both walking towards the same thing. Considering Moira’s been working with refugees, I would assume it’s something to do with that. Maybe a Gilead wife has arrived as a ‘refugee’ and that’s going to be a side-plot? Or maybe she’s in the detention centre where they’re holding Fred and Serena and she’s about to rip into Serena? Who knows.

Anyway, that was LONG but those are my thoughts - please comment and leave your ideas! Blessed be the fruit loops, bitches x

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c-cracks · 4 years

Text

Passing OSCP

So I got the email every OSCP student wants this morning- I passed OSCP on my first attempt.

In the name of tradition, I’m just writing this to document my thoughts, experiences and my preparation up until enrollment. :)

Background

I’m self-taught in every aspect of IT that I know- from basic networking concepts to programming- and have been doing CTFs on sites such as HackTheBox and VulnHub.

Prior to OSCP, the only professional experience in pentesting I had was a 3 month-long apprenticeship with a local company; even there I didn’t get any real exposure to actual pentesting (thus why it was only 3 months.)

I don’t have a degree yet either- I’m currently in my first year of Cyber Security (BSc) with Open University.

Preparation

I first heard of OSCP last year when I tried a physical university- there was an ethical hacking society there that were pretty much obsessed with the certification. After hearing of it’s alleged difficulty and reputation in the industry I looked into it and then hopped on the band wagon. I definitely wanted to be an OSCP.

I’d say that I had around 1 and a half years of CTF experience before enrolling, a lot of those machines being based off a list of OSCP-like VMs. I also had experience with buffer overflow at this point (had already hacked Brainpan and completed a majority of the challenges on SmashTheTux.)

I pretty much just decided to go for it one day, unsure of if I was ready or not.

The Course

I opted for 90 days lab time and spent nearly all day everyday hacking the lab machines in that time (probably missed 1-2 weeks altogether). In that time I got almost all the public network apart from dependent machines and two of the hard ones. A few machines from Dev and Admin too.

I barely even looked at the PDF until I went over using Immunity Debugger for buffer overflow but I think it depends on where your knowledge stands as to whether taking the time to do the PDF exercises is worth it or not. Like I said, before enrollment I’d already rooted a fair few machines on other platforms.

The Exam

5AM on Saturday the 17th of October was my exam start time. I had no issues with the proctoring software- lucky considering the proctoring software allegedly has poor Linux support (my OS is Ubuntu.) I thought starting earlier was a good idea as it meant -in the event of things going wrong- that I wouldn’t have to stay up a full extra night. I could have admitted defeat and went to sleep at 5. xD

While I did pass, I do feel the early start wasn’t a wise move: I was extremely tired after a night of tossing and turning, feeling my eyes starting to burn by 12 noon.

My sleep deprivation caused me to make a fair few silly mistakes I wouldn’t have otherwise made too- the buffer overflow took me 2-3 hours all because I didn’t notice I’d tried to set PORT instead of LPORT in my msfvenom payload!

By 8pm the following night I had 60 points under my belt- rooting the 10 point was all I had left to do before I had enough points to pass. By 10pm I had the 10 point- again due to my tiredness I hadn’t been logically trying everything to troubleshoot why things weren’t working as intended (don’t wanna give anything away about any of the exam machines.)

At this point I was exhausted. Happy with calling it a night, I proceeded to go back and take the necessary screenshots for my report the next day. This took a while- it was 1-2am before I told the proctor I was done and they ended the exam.

Ecstatic that I was halfway to passing, I went to bed eagerly- I still had a report to write.

The Report

The report writing is very tedious and -frankly- not what you want to do after the hacking part of the exam. I was still pretty tired from the day before and I just wanted to get it done.

I didn’t write the best report- I missed out some command output accidentally and had a nightmare formatting the report (this is why sleep matters!) but I had it finished and submitted in 8 hours.

Results

I got the great news today that I’ve passed- I’m now an OSCP! I’m very happy with this after spending so long preparing for it.

What’s Next?

I think I’m going to spend the next three years I’m at university getting deeper into exploit and malware development, maybe privilege escalation techniques too: I have a strong interest in these areas. I’ll probably do the odd CTF now and again just to keep my skill sharp in that area too.

Thoughts and Advice

Now I’m no sort of expert in the field yet; I definitely advice people to spend a fair bit of time on OSCP prep before enrolling.

Google OSCP-like VMs and go through them. Please: do not look at hints. I think this is a vital component to OSCP- the ability to be independent. You won’t have anyone to go to for advice in a real pentest or the exam, after all.

Looking at buffer-overflow prior to the exam is also an idea: it means the concepts of registers, x86 vs x64 and shellcode aren’t completely foreign to you. Like I said above- Brainpan and SmashTheTux are pretty good VMs for this.

I definitely think you should try to get to a point where you don’t need the course PDF beforehand so you can focus all your energy on the labs.

Doing this course has honestly been one of the most difficult things I’ve done- not because the machines themselves are difficult; it’s the pressure (especially if you paid for it out of savings- £1100 is ALOT of money to me!) and the time it takes. It tires you out physically and mentally.

However, it was also one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve had- while I wish I wasn’t as tired on the day of the exam so I could have got nearer to 100 points, I still managed to pass a famously difficult exam on my first attempt. All thanks to my preparation.

#oscp #offensive security #pentesting #hacking #exam

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rpschtuff · 4 years

Text

Carrd.co

Hello roleplayers!! Are you looking for an easy, good-looking, and accessible place to host your blog info on outside of Tumblr? Is Google Docs just not cutting it for you? Then I have a solution for you. Consider checking out Carrd.co.

Carrd lets you create “simple, free, fully responsive one-page sites for pretty much anything.” And I know what you’re thinking -- ‘One page? Surely I can’t put all my info on just one page!’ But I assure you, you can. Despite being technically one page, your content can be easily spread across multiple sections for clear organization, much like a blog with pop-ups or tabs here on Tumblr.

Check out this sample site I whipped up to see what I mean.

In this post, I will walk through how I made this sample Carrd site, to demonstrate how simple and customizable it is. But first, to answer what you’re already wondering -- what makes Carrd any better than Google Docs? And I have three answers for you:

There is no issue of privacy or security. Your account name and email is not accessible anywhere on your Carrd site, nor are any viewers visible.

Carrd is much more mobile friendly than Google Docs. I don’t even attempt to open Docs on my phone anymore, as they’re a bit of a nightmare and I can never do it anonymously. But I’ve never once struggled with a Carrd site. Everything is automatically put into a mobile friendly format, and if the automatic settings do mess up, you have the ability to go in and manually change how things will be displayed on mobile.

This may be a bit more personal opinion, but I found Carrd easier to customize as far as colors, images, backgrounds, etc. After about ten minutes, I was comfortably manipulating all of the elements on my site, and much happier with the end result than anything I’ve seen on Docs.

Join me under the cut for a walkthrough of creating the site linked above.

As a note, I’m not intending this to be a full guide to all of Carrd’s features, just a general overview to see how things are laid out. It’s fairly intuitive so once you see the basics, you should be able to play around with it more and get your site just the way you want it.

When you create a Carrd account, you will be given this screen. (If you’re on the main dashboard instead, click New Site.)

You can either explore premade templates below, or you can start from scratch by clicking the link in “blank canvas”. I prefer a blank slate myself, but I encourage you to check out the templates if they seem easier for you.

After clicking “blank canvas” you will arrive at this screen.

These are just Carrd’s instructions. I’ll hit ‘Okay, got it!’ to get rid of it.

The first thing I want to do is customize the background. It’s a good starting point. To do that, click on the three lines in the top right corner...

...and select Background.

Options will open on the left side of the screen, as seen here. Your customization options are fairly straightforward.

You can change the color...

Or change it to something else entirely. I’m going to use an image.

After uploading your image, you have the option to recrop it.

Now I hit accept, and this will be my site’s background.

There are other options as well, that can reposition the image, change its size, tile it, etc.

I can also add a gradient or a pattern to this image. I’m going to scroll down to Overlay and select Gradient.

And change those colors and the angle a bit.

Ahh, lovely. I’ll also add a pattern...

But that looks rather ugly. I think I’ll play with the color, size, and thickness a bit more.

I like that. Nice and subtle. Let’s call the background done.

Now let’s customize the page itself. This isn’t necessary, if you like the text directly on top of your background, but I like how neat it looks.

Go back to the three lines, and this time select Page.

Under Style, I’m going to change Default to Box.

You can change the position, padding, and other settings of the box in this sidebar. Personally, I want to round the corners...

...change the color...

...and change the opacity.

I’d also like to add a border...

...plus a customized drop shadow.

And we’ll call that done.

Now! Let’s see what this site looks like on mobile. In the top right menu, to the left of the save icon, is an icon that looks like a phone. Click that.

As you can see, your view resized to demonstrate how your site will appear to a mobile user. It’s a very good reference. I’m going to switch back to desktop now (the same button, which now looks like a computer monitor).

Let’s get some content on this site now! I’m going to start with the text that’s already present, that says ‘Nothing here yet! :)’. Click on that.

Options for this text will appear. First, I’m going to click the word Text itself. This will cycle through various options, such as default text, headings, subheadings, etc. I want this to be my site title, so I settle on that. (This step isn’t necessary at all, but I find it helps keep me a bit more organized.)

Now, for the content itself. The box is where I enter what I want this text to say. Markdown instructions for bold, italics, links, etc. are always below the box for easy reference.

I want to change how this text looks. Above Site Title, you’ll see an icon that looks like a paintbrush. Click it to reveal the next tab.

Here you can change color, font, size, weight, and anything else that strikes your fancy. There are a lot of options here and they’re pretty straightforward, so play around with it. Here’s what I settled on.

Remember you can check it on mobile, as well.

Time to add more text. Let’s start with a bio, maybe?

Hit the plus sign in the upper right menu to add new content, then select text.

By default, new text will match the formatting of the most recent text used. I’m going to the first tab, the one marked A, and making this text Paragraph.

Then I go back to the paintbrush tab to make some changes to the style.

Then back to the first tab to add some content. I’m just dropping in some lorem ipsum, since this is only a sample. Obviously you’d want something a bit more practical here.

Let’s say I want a link in there. I’ll follow the markdown format to get one (instructions are below the box, as always).

Now it’s in there, as the third sentence. You can see it underlined. But I want to customize that link. If I go back to the paintbrush tab, options for Link and Hover have appeared. I can change the color there.

And if I scroll all the way down, I can change the link style from Underlined to Plain.

That looks nice. I’ll call that done.

Let’s add a subheading to that section. I’ll add another text box.

Then click and drag it above the previous one.

On the first tab, I’m going to change this one to Main Heading.

Then customize it as before.

Now for the actual text itself.

Lovely.

Let’s add some rules! I want to add a new title, so for that, I’m going to select the text that says About. Then in the bottom left is a button that looks like two overlapping squares. This will copy the text, so we don’t need to reformat it identically.

Click and drag the new title where you want it, and change the text to what you want.

I’m going to add a list now. It’s one of. the other options under the plus sign.

As you can see, some bullet points have appeared. Markdown instructions are still under the box where you enter the content. I’m going to fill it with lorem ipsum again.

Under the paintbrush tab, you’ll see that there are multiple tabs. The first lets you change some style and formatting.

The second lets you change the bullets themselves. I’m going to play with that a bit.

The third lets you change the actual text formatting. (I don’t know why my purple bullet points disappeared, I must have hit an undo at some point without noticing. Pretend they’re still purple.)

And I’ll call that done.

Mobile check!

Not bad.

But the question of the hour, how do you make these separate pages? Let me show you. Under the plus sign, choose Control.

A blue dotted line will appear. Drag this to the top of what you would like to be a new section.

On the left tab, the type should read Section Break. Type in something simple and easy to remember under Name.

This has designated everything under the Control as a new section. We need to create a link to it in the very first section.

I prefer to use Buttons for this, but any link option on this site should work. I’m going to add a Button under the Sample Site title.

By clicking the small word Button (inside the box on the left tab), I can change its settings.

The Label is what the button will actually say. The URL is where the button will take me. I can enter any URL, but if I enter the name of the Control I made with a # in front of it, it will take me to that section.

There are options to. change colors of each button individually, but I prefer to go to the paintbrush tab and change their appearance altogether, so each new button in this group will look the same.

Unfortunately, you can’t properly preview the section breaks while you’re editing. So I’m going to publish this site now so I can view it. Go to the three lines in the top right and choose Publish. Fill out all the options there, then hit Publish. (You can also save as a draft here, if you want to keep your progress but aren’t ready to publish yet, but this doesn’t let you preview it properly.)

Now, if I hit view site, I will be able to see it properly. And as you can tell...

It only displays everything up until that first section break. And when I click the About button that I made...

...everything else appears.

So it’s working! Let’s go back to the editor and add another section break for the rules.

(As a note, you can also set something as a Scroll Point rather than a Section Break, so that any links will scroll down to that spot as opposed to hiding then revealing a new section. You may prefer that option, it’s in the dropdown under Type.)

Now I want to go back to my button...

...scroll down on the left options tab and choose Add.

This creates a second button within this group, that I can edit the same as the first.

Lovely. Let’s preview this in mobile quickly.

Notice how the buttons automatically resized for full width on mobile, and are displaying differently than they appeared on desktop? This is by default, but you can change this behavior if you wish. Select the buttons, and on the paintbrush tab, scroll all the way down until you see Mobile.

By default, it’s set to Auto, where it makes its best guess at what will work for mobile. If you switch to Manual, you can change its behavior.

If I change the dropdown under Layout from Stack to Default, it will display as it does on desktop.

For something as simple as buttons, this likely doesn’t matter, and full width buttons may actually be more mobile friendly. But it’s important to know where these options are, in case something is actually broken on mobile and requires fixing. Check everything on your site in mobile to make sure it actually works.

Let’s publish this again to preview it now.

Our new button looks good, and both redirect you to the appropriate place.

But wait!! Once you’re in one section... there’s no button to get back!! I’m trapped!! This is very important. Always provide a way to leave the current section, so your viewer doesn’t get stuck somewhere on your site.

The easiest way to do this is to add a new Control on your first section, called #home. Then, at the bottom of each section, add a button that will link back to it. (You could also add buttons for all the sections at the bottom of each, but I find that more tedious to set up. But it’s entirely down to your preference.)

Now if you republish the site, it should all be functional, and you can navigate it with ease.

Let’s check the actual site on mobile, too. I’m going to actually get out my phone and go to the URL.

It all looks good there, so I will call this one done.

And that’s a rough guide to using Carrd.co! Obviously this is geared more towards my style and preferences, but there are so many ways to customize this to suit your needs and tastes. I also didn’t cover things like images and videos, as I feel they’re pretty straightforward.

A few notes:

Carrd currently limits free users to only three sites per account. However, Gmail’s alias trick and SessionBox totally work. I run multiple Carrd accounts as easily as I run multiple Tumblrs.

A free Carrd site can only have up to 100 items on it. For my sites, I haven’t even come close to that limit, but I can see larger blogs or multimuses potentially struggling with that.

#rpc #rph #rpt #carrd.co #*my tutorials

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