#Two Component

[marlynnofmany]

If that doesn't have potential for some fairytale nonsense, I don't know what does.

[zoe-oneesama]

Since you’re on that hating Wish train (I’m there with you), I think you might be interested in checking out Jonah Who Two on YouTube bc he’s re-written some of the songs (his “This is the Thanks I Get?!” is really good and way more villainy)

Jokes on you, I ALREADY HAVE!!! >:D

[hipsternumbertwo]

Some things to look forward to? (Help decipher this)

Every Episode – Monologue, Expert ?, City of the Week, Hot Goss, Chanse jumps over a car, Sketches/Commercials, Character Call in ?, Musical Guest ?

Recurring – Cover Stories, Weird Product ? , Man on the Street, Fan Comments ?, Debate, Today I'm Mad About ?, ???, ???

 Sporadic – ???, ???, ???, Debrief From ? , Day Jobs, Reunions, Find a Culprit, Couples Therapy, ???, Movie Stunts ?

One Off- ???, ???, Game Show ?, What would you do ?, Talent Show ?

Topics – Energy Drinks, Situationships, Scams, Cults (Silly), Famous Beef, ???, Fanfiction?

Elements: Teleprompter Game ?, Personal News ?

Tone: Youtube/Internet, Characters

*? means "it looks like that word, missing a word", ??? means "I gave up, figure it out"

Special thanks to @gazebo-components for helping out! :)

*Reddit deleted the post relating to this so I'm thinking this is really real. Thank goodness the social team forgot Tumblr still exists ignores Tumblr.

[blenselche]

grass demon as a human?

I prefer the grass demon as an alter of Fern's but babbs and I had fun w/ this idea.

They spange near the bus stop and Fionna would toss them $3 every so often, so they got attached and came on too strong. They try to pay Fionna back but they approach life so differently that it always works out wrong/appears malicious. (They're very cluster A.) GD challenges Fionna's convictions pretty routinely: they set their tent up outside of her apartment, and she's vehemently against street sweeps but she really wants to call one in to get them to leave, as an example. They meet Fern through their job (their dad's landscaping business) and, again, come on too strong. They believe in twin flame junk and are convinced they can see Fionna and Fern's connection, so they glom onto Fern because she's much more of an insecure pushover.

Babb wanted them to be roommates but I like the grass demon just being a weird, offputting little stage 5 clinger that follows Fern around tbh.

[mo-ok]

giftober day twenty seven - blue

[regular-gnome]

Oh little gnome... What is your wisdom?

[morporkian-cryptid]

[Spoilers for The Murderbot Diaries - Network Effect]

I was going to have to answer Amena and I was in a hurry so I just said the truth. "I need to talk to ART in private." Amena's expression did something funny and she lifted her brows. "About your relationship?" "Very funny."

Murderbot then proceeds to tell ART they should have a child together.

[whatwooshkai]

Lucky Number 7!

"Designation?"

"Chase."

Chase keeps his finials pinned flat against his helm, doorwings wide and fanned to keep the bot behind him from getting too close, which they have been for the past five minutes.

He has a vibroknife in his subspace. He'd rather not use it- you can only make a first impression once.

The femme flips through a datapad until her optics go wide. "Oh," she murmurs, the dangling jewelry from her finials making a loud ting! when they flatten to her helm. "Oh, you're one of those. Hang on."

Chase's optic twitches. He is normally very good at keeping his emotions in check, and no one who knows him has ever seen his temper, and that's the way he wants to keep it.

But if one more bot refers to him as "one of those" he's going to do something stupid.

Chase hates doing stupid things.

"Okay, I got you right here!" The femme gives him a sheepish smile as she hands over a pair of keycards. "There was an issue with organizing the dorms this year. Normally you'd be put with other bots in your track but you ended up in the randomized group, so you'll be staying with a few bots from other tracks. That's not a problem, is it?"

Chase's finials lift slightly away from his helm. "That is fine," he says, accepting the cards. That is... probably for the best, actually. "Thank you."

"No problem!" the femme says brightly. "So you're in room 704. Elevators are on your left. Next!"

Chase shuffles away from the table, readjusting the bag he has slung over his shoulder, eyeing the key cards in his hand.

Primus, when was the last time he met new people?

The elevator is blessedly empty when he steps inside, and so is the hallway as he follows it down to his room. Well, he was in one of the last groups to check in, so that's expected.

The door has four slots for name tags, as all of the ones in this hallway do. Only two have been filled in so far, for mechs "Boulder" and "Heatwave". Both have little drawings on them, one better than the other's. However, both seem to have identical handwriting... interesting.

So it seems only two have checked in. Maybe he'll have a choice of berth, then.

Chase swipes the key card and gently opens the door.

There's two sets of bunk berths, a desk in front and behind each one. None seem to have been claimed, but on the left, there's a bag tossed on the top bunk and a few posters plastered up already, and some blankets and pillows piled up. And on the right, there's a bag on the bottom bunk, and-

Oh. He's being glared at.

"Another one?" the mech mutters, green optics narrowed at Chase. He's orange a white, with a scar cutting down through one optic. He looks about Chase's age. "'Oh, we'll get you your own room, Blades'! my aft. Mechs walking in every five minutes," he huffs.

Chase frowns. "The attitude is hardly appropriate," he says, and the mech's optics suddenly go wide, as if he thought Chase couldn't hear him.

He mutters something unintelligible and then turns over on his side, revealing a pair of rotors. A flight frame, then.

Blades. His name wasn't on the door.

Chase looks around at the other bags. So his choice has been made for him, then. As usual.

He sets his bag down on the berth to the left, projecting his calendar up on the wall. And then he sits.

He's not really sure what to do now. Conversation is not really an option, what with the less-than-warm welcome, and he has no need to explore the city he grew up in.

Well, that’s a bit of a stretch. He mostly grew up in various facilities around the city, but he spent enough time out on the streets to know it.

Besides… he’d really rather not risk running into his batch. Not alone, at least.

Even though his coding cries for them, his frame hurts without them, he couldn’t get out of berth for several days after they were officially separated-

He’s better now. He has to be better.

He’s never had to try and make new friends. He’s never had to make friends, period. Chase can’t remember the last time he met someone new before this week.

But it can’t be that hard, can it? Sure, this Blades is… hostile… but maybe the others are a little more friendly!

Speaking of- someone decides to kick the door open at that very moment.

Blades looks up, and slight relief teeks through his field as he lies back down. So one of the mechs on the door, then.

Heatwave, he imagines- only because the mech is hot.

He stops a few feet from Chase once he lays optics on him, but Chase can feel the heat he gives off from here. That has to be unnatural, surely. Even Ultra Magnus, the largest mech he’s ever met, did not give off that much heat.

Beyond the odd temperature, the mech looks friendly enough. He’s red, with bright and warm yellow optics, and twin scars cutting up one cheek. In his arms are a plethora of cubes and energon sweets, several shoved in his mouth as well.

He mumbles something Chase can’t make out around the food in his mouth, then tosses a cube at Blades. The flight frame mutters some kind of thanks, and the mech turns back to Chase.

He shuffles his items into one arm and offers a hand to Chase. He once again speaks, presumably introducing himself, but Chase can’t understand a word he says.

He takes his hand and shakes it. “You really shouldn’t speak with your mouth full,” he says.

Yellow optics narrow at him. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” he snaps. There’s a thick accent there that the universal translator is doing its best to suppress. “I asked for your name.”

Chase’s doorwings flick and the mech’s optics only follow them for a second before training on Chase’s face again. “Chase,” he says. “I will have to ask you for yours again, I did not understand you. Also, please let go of my hand.”

“Heatwave.” A correct guess, then. Chase’s doorwings raise slightly, but Heatwave’s gaze doesn’t shift to them again. Instead, he keeps his optics trained on Chase’s face, who looks away from the optic contact. He does release Chase’s hand, though. “You should check out the mess hall,” he says, moving his quarry back to both arms. “Never seen so much fuel in my life.”

Chase watches him in mild fascination as he figures out how to climb the ladder of the bunk without dropping any of the cubes, and from there Chase can’t see what he does with them.

So he’s expected to go collect his own ration. Good to know.

…He should be trying to make more conversation, right? Blades might be a lost cause but Heatwave at least introduced himself.

He just… doesn’t know what to do from here. Should he ask what track Heatwave is in? He can guess, from the paint job, but would Heatwave even entertain that? He’s sure he knows what Chase is here for, and has thankfully not said anything derogatory about it… yet.

It’s not wrong to expect it to happen eventually, right?

Then he realizes something. “Where are the washracks?”

Heatwave leans out over the top of the bunk. “Hallway.”

Chase frowns. “Why?”

“What, never been in a communal wash rack before?” Heatwave asks, an oddly aggressive tone to his voice. “This ain’t no prissy enforcer academy, Chase. You’ll hafta get used to other mechs in your space.”

Oh, that accent is really coming out now. Chase wishes he could place it. “It is not a problem,” he growls, though it is… not ideal. The idea of sharing washracks with anyone other than his batch makes his plating crawl. He doesn’t appreciate the attitude, though.

“Whatever you say.” Heatwave leans back.

Okay. So far, his roommates are violently antisocial and rude. Wonderful.

It is now that the fourth roommate decides to show themselves, and Chase braces himself for the worst.

They gently push the door open, holding a datapad. They’re green and far more heavyset than any of the others, though Heatwave comes close. Blue optics widen at him. “Hello,” they say, in very thickly accented Common.

No universal translator, then. Interesting.

“Hello,” Chase says back, offering his hand. “Chase.”

“Boulder.” So that’s all four. Good. “I am… stop by for my datapad. Good to meet you.”

“And you.” Primus almighty, Chase wishes he’d met someone who wasn’t Iaconian before today, because all these new accents, and he can’t place a single one. Maybe if he knew what their mother language is, he could speak to them better? “If you speak in your native language, I can still understand it,” Chase says, tapping his throat.

“I know,” Boulder says. “But I like to make the effort.”

“Okay.”

Boulder turns away from him and grabs the datapad from their bag, before offering everyone a wave and leaving again.

Chase sits down on his berth again. Boulder seems nice.

…This might not be so bad.

[unwastelandunbaby]

the movie didn’t explore the memory issues involved in the expendable process which is a shame. I think

[thedawningofthehour]

Me banging out 1k+ words in like an hour: "oh we are SO fucking back."

Also me: 'proceeds not to write for a week straight'

[amazingdeadfish]

Are their things that Lan and macaque do to fuck with eachother?

There's the classic "Lán. usually stands/sits in Macaque's blind spot to fuck with him as a strategic maneuver to toy with his disability and mindset around it, being an active and constant trigger in order get on Macaque's nerves and keep him at a perpetual state of being set off". You can't get anymore fucked up than that on a casual basis, I think.

But I guess we have to mention Macaque stealing and taking things from Lán's apartment. He stops doing it after he realises the Mayor doesn't actually care too much (they do but, not nearly as much as Macaque would have hoped). So he just settles for eating their food and reorganising their apartment in a way that suits him better. That pisses them off a bit more.

Stalking is also, something. You'd think if they were both stalkers, they'd cancel each other out somehow but, no. No. Absolutely not.

Macaque has also learned that the most optimal place to shower is in the Mayor's apartment. Did he ever shower before? Not any more frequent than a once every few months. But now he does it every other day. Why? Because his hair clogs up the Mayor's shower drain, and he's not cleaning it up (he also enjoys getting more privileges to be clingy when he is clean, but it's not like he'll admit that). He'll pin the blame on Lán, who unfortunately also technically has dark hair and so, the Mayor is unable to pin all the blame onto him.

Lán is the one with constant Wi-Fi in their residence because they actually pay their monthly bills for electricity + internet and such. They will constantly change the password because Macaque wants to exploit it. As much as they want this to cause Macaque to pled for the password at some point, they're not actually very good at making passwords. Nonetheless, Macaque is still annoyed that he has to go the extra length every few days just to connect to his Youtube (or Youtube equivalent. He can't handle the Spotify equivalent. All those ads, ridiculous) so he can listen to his white noises (he doesn't know how to download tracks).

There's more. Probably. I'm sure they'll keep inventing new ways to stress the other out for all eterntiy. It won't end with these two. I'm just afraid their level of shenanigans goes past the lengths my brain is able to even think about.

[doortotomorrow]

memori » children of gabriel

[kismetconstellations]

☆.☆.☆

[ohsweetflips]

ik i’m a perfectionist but my experience of getting specifically 95s on essays in grad school is like “why is some of this criticism scathing”

[twomystdunstans]

fuck everybody needs to listen to kane and feels . God. It's so good

[fjordfolk]

the next sheltie/collie breeder i see make grand claims about their dogs' eye health despite only having done DNA and not actual ophtho, I'm going to hit with a shovel