#also my computer washes out colors so much?????? so if it looks Too Neon that's because i can't bear to make it any less saturated than thi

[tsukasageorge]

it should have been me

for day 14: fanart! i love domi sm

~7hrs

[babybatscreationsv2]

Cooling Metal

Marvel | Starker

Tony has been racing professionally for years, but the spark just isn't there anymore. When Tony catches sight of a street race happening he finds himself burning with adrenaline like he hasn't in years. Though he finds it hard to believe that a pretty boy like Peter really is the best street racer around.

Rating: Explicit

For my beautiful H <3

Warnings and tags: Racing au, praise kink, breeding kink, rough sex, hair pulling, rimming, cum play

Another race, another third place 'victory'. The tabloids were laughing at him. Saying he was past his prime, his reflexes were shot, he was washed up. Tony was afraid they were right. In fact, he was afraid of who he wasn't when he wasn't behind the wheel. Racing was all he'd known for so long. It was all he knew anymore.

That must have been what led him here. He'd been drawn in by the sound of engines revving. Then he'd followed the laughter and the bright lights. A long row of modded out cars blocked off the street. They looked like a rainbow. LEDs glowed in every color against the pavement. The cars were painted to match. Most of them were printed with noisy, eye-catching, decals.

Tony had never joined in any street races. He'd never needed to. His parents made sure he always had access to a track. This was something completely new to him. And it made his heart pound.

He parked his car on the street, out of their way and stepped out. The road began to rumble as the drivers started revving again. The noise of the crowd was drowned out by the engines. The shadow of a lithe figure passed across the headlights. They took their place in the center of the four cars, almost dancing their way along. Then they dropped a flag and the cars took off.

Adrenaline burned through him as they blurred past, sucking the air from the street as they went. Tony watched them go, a grin plastered to his face. He felt drunk just at the sight of it.

His ears followed the sound as they wrapped around the block. The crowd began screaming, waving, cheering. A car, neon green, came rocketing around the corner and finally slid to a stop just past the starting line. The next two were mere seconds too slow with the fourth and final coming up behind.

The drivers stepped out of their cars. The loser was ignored except for one woman who jogged over to give a man a consolation kiss. The winner was laughing, pouring beer over his face, screaming in victory in the center of a cheering crowd. Tony laughed along with them.

"You a cop?" A voice made him jump. Beside him now was a young man with too big eyes and not enough clothes. He'd cut his tank top off at the chest and his low rise shorts were barely long enough to cover whatever he was packing down there. He started at him curiously with his lips wrapped around a lollipop.

"Uh," Tony cleared his throat. "Just a spectator."

He pulled the candy from his mouth and let it pop between his lips. It was bubblegum pink and big to the point of being vulgar.

"We don't usually allow uninvited guests. But I know who you are," he said. "Just as long as you're not gonna cause any problems."

Tony held his hands. "No problems. Just uh... bored I guess."

"Right." The boy smiled. "We won't have much longer before we have to clear out, but feel free to mingle, Mr. Stark."

"Sure. Thanks, kid." The boy scoffed as he walked away. He joined up with a group that was chatting around a souped up Dodge Charger. With nowhere else to go, Tony followed after him.

No one seemed to recognize him or maybe they just didn't care. It was a blow to his ego, but it was also kind of refreshing. He took a spot where he could check out under the hood. He let out a soft whistle as his eyes roamed over the components.

"Nice huh?" The man beside him. He was a lot younger than Tony with a round face and a childish smile.

"Gorgeous. You put this together?"

"Nah," he shrugged. "I'm more of a computer guy. This is Peter's car. He's kind of the best of us around here, but he took the night off from racing. His aunt's been getting on him and- I uh, I guess that's personal." He blushed. "But hey, it really worked out for Bucky tonight. I don't think he's ever beaten Peter before which more or less means, he hasn't won in a decade."

They looked at the man now soaked with beer. He was making out with another man while a small and very drunk crowd stood around chatting and laughing.

"I'm Ned," he offered his hand. Tony shook it.

"Tony."

The boy laughed. "Yeah, I know. We're all pretty surprised you're here. Some of the other more legit racers show up sometimes, but no one's ever seen you around before. You havin' a midlife crisis or something?"

Tony paled. "No- uh, what makes you say that?"

Ned laughed. "I'm just messing with you. I'm sure you've done all kinds of street racing before. Guy like you. You're the best of the best, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah..."

The boy with the pretty eyes and the lack of clothes made his way over to the car. He smiled at Tony. "What do you think?"

"It's a nice car," Tony said.

"Thanks. I built it myself."

Tony laughed. "Sure, kid."

The other two started laughing. A bit hysterically even. Tony stood there, bewildered by whatever joke he wasn't in on.

"Tony," Ned sucked in a breath. "This is Peter. The guy I was telling you about."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "You're Peter? This is your car?"

"Yep." He grinned.

Tony looked at them both. "You're fucking with me."

Peter rolled his eyes and slammed the hood shut. "What would you know? You're seven flavors of washed up, Mr. Stark."

Tony glared at the back of his head. The hostility brewing in his gut didn't lessen when the boy turned and leaned against the hood.

"I am far from washed up."

"Really?" The boy reached into his back pocket and somehow retrieved a cell phone. He unlocked it and handed it over on the contact screen.

"Is this your idea of flirting, kid? Because I have to say it needs some work."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Just put your number in. I'll text you tomorrow. Then you can show me how not washed up you are."

"I don't have anything to prove to you," he said even as he typed his information in.

"No? Well I have something to prove." Peter stood and took his phone back. He was too close. His eyes were staring straight into the back of his own. Tony could hear his heart beat in his ears. Peter took a step back and sauntered around the car. He held his eye all the way until the door was shut. Tony barely noticed Ned climbing in the other side.

Sirens barely a block over made him jump. Everyone ran. Tony jogged back to his car and pulled onto the street, inching his way through the crowd. He barely made it out before the area was surrounded.

He had a few days off which should have been spent getting trashed at a party he said he wasn't going to, but instead he stayed in. He kept his phone within arms reach, jolting at every notification. The TV did little to distract him. Neither did anything else. His mind kept wandering back to candy coated lips and a determined scowl. The boy was cute. Interesting, too.

When the text finally came, Tony was ready. More than ready, he was pumped. It was hard to rein himself in to keep from running out the door early. Somehow, despite the adrenaline, he showed up at the spot just as everyone else did.

It was on the edge of the city where the roads became winding. The streets were lit only by headlights and LEDs. There were no street lamps or billboards here.

Cars were parked in the grass, but their drivers stood at the edge of the street. They watched as Tony pulled up next to the only car left in the road, Peter's Charger.

The window rolled down and Peter grinned at him from behind the wheel.

“I hope you remembered to stretch,” he teased.

“Is this a friendly race or should I have brought cash?” Tony called back.

Peter laughed. “I wouldn't want to rob an old man.”

Someone off the road called to Peter and he turned and nodded to them. Some girl Tony hadn't looked twice at stepped out between the headlights. Tony's hands adjusted on the wheel. He turned his gaze to the darkening road ahead.

The flag was dropped and they darted forward. Buildings overgrown and unkempt blurred past with increasing speed. Adrenaline burned under Tony's skin. A euphoric laugh burst from his chest.

He glanced at Peter beside him, nearly neck and neck. Even over the bumpy, cracked, streets the kid knew what he was doing. Then they hit a corner. Tony had never raced on roads that weren't paved smooth. All it took was a pothole to throw him off just enough for Peter to cut him off, drifting around the curve and leaving Tony behind. He wasn't ahead by much, but it was enough.

A small group of cars at the end of the street marked the end of the race. They sat in darkness until they spotted Peter coming around. Lights flicked on, hands waved from the windows. Tony was sure they were cheering.

No one cheered for him like that anymore.

He didn't win races anymore.

They both slid to a stop, Peter much more gracefully. They stepped out of their cars to cheering. A couple of hands clapped him on the back, but Tony only had eyes for the victor.

"Alright. You beat me, kid." Tony offered his hand and Peter shook it firmly.

He smiled sweetly, his pretty eyes aglow. "Don't take it too hard, old man."

Something bitter died on his tongue as his embarrassment faded. His eyes drifted over Peter's cocked hip, the crotch of his shorts that bulged just enough to be visible, his soft thighs that were begging to be touched. But more importantly, there was something in that tone that scratched at an entirely different sort of beast. Maybe it was stupid, but he wanted Peter's approval. Tony's slip stretched into a grin.

"I have something that will impress you."

"What's that?" Peter crossed his arms over his chest. That amused little smile on his lips made Tony's fingers twitch.

"Something even the king of New York's streets has never seen." Tony turned away and walked back to his car. He opened the door and looked at Peter. "Coming?"

He silently debated it for a moment. Tony considered just how much that sluttly little outfit and those pouting lips hid how just how smart he truly was.

"Peter!" Ned called from the group. "We gotta move!"

Peter looked at his friend with the slightest hint of anxiety as his decision hit a swift deadline. He grabbed his keys and tossed them. "Take my baby home. I'll see you later." Ned looked at them both, then sirens pricked their ears.

"You got it." He jogged over and slid into the driver's seat of Peter's car. Everyone scrambled.

Peter hopped into Tony's car and he slammed on the gas. They blew past city streets until the sound of sirens was far behind, then they slowed down and blended into the other traffic.

"Is it always like that?" Tony asked.

Peter laughed. Tony could see the adrenaline in his eyes. "Not every night, but pretty often. Someone eventually rats us out or the noise gives us away. Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"You're not planning to drop me off a pier or anything right? Because Ned has my location and literally everyone knows where you live."

"Well if that's the case, you should know where we're going."

Peter looked at where they were and it seemed to click. "Aren't you gonna buy me dinner first?"

"That's a little presumptuous."

"I'm presumptuous? You didn't get the wrong idea about the little shorts did you? Everyone does."

"I'm sure you only dress like a whore."

Peter scoffed. "I'm not the paid kind anyway."

"That's too bad. You'd make a fortune."

Peter laughed. "I kind of already do."

"Oh yeah? You got some fancy condo around here?"

"Nah. My family has a lot of debt to pay off." Peter shrugged and looked out the window.

"Ned mentioned you had an aunt," Tony said gently. He could sense the tension coming off of him, but he was curious nonetheless.

"I don't wanna talk about that stuff."

"You got it, kid." He let it go, curiosity paused for now. But he would be lying if he said he didn't want to know every bit of Peter's story.

They reached the bottom of Stark Tower. The gate raised as the sensor recognized Tony's car and let them into the garage. The entry twisted around, up a dimly lit path.

"Fancy," Peter commented. Tony only smiled.

They turned the last corner and the walls opened up into the garage. Two rows of cars took up half the space with room in the center for the auto shop.

"Whoa..." Peter stared wide eyed at the room. "Wait, this is all yours? Just yours?"

"Yep. All mine. I built most of these. That one was a gift from Audi though, prototype. Never hit the streets."

"Holy shit."

Tony grinned. He parked the car in its spot and cut it off. He looked at Peter who smiled and jumped right out the door. His eyes were glittering. His smile lit up the room.

"Impressed yet?"

Peter laughed gently. "Don't tell me I got under your skin."

"Seems like you intended to."

"Maybe, but I figured you had thicker skin," Peter teased.

"Maybe I care what you think." It was a little honest, but Peter didn't laugh. He turned towards him, uninterested now in the cars. Tension thrummed between them.

"Why's that?" he said in a quiet voice. He drifted slowly toward him in small steps.

"I've been alive a long time," Tony laughed softly, humorlessly. "And somehow I've never been more alive than I am right now."

Peter gave the smallest nod, but it didn't even seem intended for him. More like he was answering his own question. He reached him, warm hands finding his chest. It snapped the tension like a rubber band.

Tony's hands wrapped around him, pulling him in chest to chest, pressing their mouths together. Peter made a little noise in surprise, but he melted against him. Tony's hands slid over his back to squeeze his ass and pull his hips against him. While Peter's hands slid down and found their way under Tony's shirt.

"You don't-" Peter started, struggling to pull his lips away. "You don't actually think I'm just slut do you?"

"I don't bring random sluts in here. I have a different garage for that."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Well then," he extracted himself from Tony's arms and backed away with a sly grin. He made his way back to the car and leaned against the cooling hood. "This seems like a good spot."

Tony licked his lips and followed after him. He grabbed Peter's thighs and lifted him off the ground, stepping between his spread legs. Peter gasped and reached for him. Tony leaned down into his hands and let Peter pull him in, kissing him slowly and deeply, to the rhythm of their hips grinding together. Peter whimpered. Tony could feel the way his cheeks heated in embarrassment. He gave him a soft moan in answer that had Peter pulling him in closer. But Tony was done with kissing.

His hand wrapped around Peter's neck and he pushed him down against the hood. With one hand he worked open Peter's shorts. Peter helped him shove them down, leaving them hanging off of one ankle along with his underwear. He let Tony manhandle him, flipping him onto his stomach and pulling his knees up onto the car.

Tony pressed kisses into his lower back, working his way down, until he found his hole.

"Tony," Peter gasped. His hands grabbed at the warm metal, but there was nothing but Tony's hands on his thighs to hold him up. He laid against the hood, moaning against the surface while Tony ate him out.

"Tony, fuck," Peter whined. Tony kept going, encouraged by the boy's noises until he needed more. He laid him down again against the hood only to turn him over on his belly.

Tony grabbed a fistful of his soft hair and pulled his head up. "Are you ready for me, baby?" He smirked at Peter's glassy eyes and slack lips.

"Uh huh," the boy whined.

"Tell me." Tony pressed his hips against Peter's ass. He watched his face as he tried to recover enough thought to speak.

"Fuck me, please," he breathed. His eyes finally focused on Tony's face.

"Good boy." Tony held Peter's hair in one hand and his own cock in the other, watching him as he forced himself inside him. Peter gasped, his mouth hung open, his eyes squeezed shut and a keening whine fell from his lips as Tony kept pushing in deeper.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Tony groaned. Peter pushed back against him, moaning. His strong back arched. His hands pushed against the metal.

"Fuck me, Tony," he demanded. "Fucking breed me."

"Yeah? You want my cum, baby?"

"Please," Peter moaned.

Tony leaned over him, pressing kisses across his shoulders. He rocked his hips, fast but deep, enjoying that tight heat down the length of his dick. He wrapped a hand around Peter's cock, stroking him just as fast, listening to his voice pitch higher as he whined.

"So close," Peter gasped. "Please- please!"

"What do you need, baby?"

"Cum in me, please. I wanna feel it."

Tony moaned. "You got it, sweetheart." He pushed him down against the hood with a hand between his shoulders that slid down to hold the back of his neck. He was selfish now, fucking him how he wanted, but Peter only seemed to love it. He panted against the hood of the car, breath ghosting against the surface. Quiet pleas fell from his lips.

"You want it, baby?" Tony growled.

"Please, Tony," Peter begged.

"Gonna fucking breed you just like you wanted."

Peter whined. He slid against the warm metal as Tony pushed himself in deep and came inside him. Peter shivered beneath him. His hand slipped down to stroke his cock and before Tony had even recovered, Peter was cumming all over the hood.

Tony turned him over, moving him out of the mess. He kissed him, holding where his weight wanted to melt into the floor. Peter clung to his arms, breathing heavily and then finally slowing. He grinned.

"Sorry about the mess," Peter said with a soft laugh.

"You could always put those little shorts back on and make it up to me with a car wash." Tony wagged his eyebrows.

"I can do better than that."

"How's that?"

Peter slipped from his arms and bent over the hood. He met Tony's eye and held his gaze as he ran his tongue over the metal, licking his own cum from the surface.

"You tryin' to get fucked again?"

"I was hoping we could try out the backseat.”

[captaincravatthecapricious]

In Which I Project

Jon has some sort of neurodivercence and it is making work hard.

@janekfan

cw Jon is really really getting down on himself about what his brain is making hard, so cw for that and internalized ablism relating to things like rsd and executive dysfunction.  Jon also takes this out on his coworkers, because that is how Jon can be.  This chapter is a bit heavy with a hopeful end. If there is a chapter two, it will have a lot more fluff, promise.  (The reason Jon doesn't have a diagnosis is because I am projecting and I am not 100% what all is going on in my brain, this is just my experience.)  Also mentions of alcohol and food.  

Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.  

Why is he like this?  Why can’t he just fucking be a normal, functional person. Why does his brain behave like a backed up, broken drain.   He can’t think today.  

He’s been staring at his computer since 6:30 this morning.   He’s been here eight hours.  And it isn’t like he isn’t getting anything done.  But it’s not what he meant to do.  

He was going to check his email, record a statement, do some filing, check Martin’s work, then do some follow ups and check his email again before going home.  

Well.  He checked his email.  Then he noticed a flaw in what he filed yesterday so he had to fix that.  Then the loo was out of toilet tissue and he had to go chase down that, because the building’s maintenance tends to skip the Archives half the time.  (Which is usually fine because it’s used by four fairly neat people, but doesn’t help when they run out of things).  Then Elias had requested a meeting.  And that sent Jon spiraling because he wasn’t supposed to have a meeting today.  That was supposed to be tomorrow and while it’s nice that he doesn’t have to do that tomorrow it threw off his whole day and now he just feels like he’s going to cry or pass out or break his jaw by clenching it so hard.  

He can’t do it.  

He tries to make himself record a statement.  He does.  

But he can’t open the file.  

He can’t.  

He wants to scream in frustration.  Which, of course, is when Martin walks in.  

Jon doesn’t mean to yell.  He really doesn’t.  He doesn’t know where this vitriol comes from.  Was he always like this?   He doesn’t even remember what he says, just the acrid taste of bitter words on his tongue.  

When Martin flees, he tries to open the file again but the color and whine of the lights breaks down on him and his dragging fatigue.   

He tries to loosen his jaw.  Wiggles it side to side.  It pops, but ultimately goes back to tense.   It’s starting to give him a headache.   

He can’t do this.  It’s barely lunch.  He’s gotten nothing done.  

He tries to open this statement.  

He opens his email instead.  

The library wants his books back.  

He’s tired.  He means to gather his books and bring them up, but he ends up cleaning his desk and making notes on half researched statements he forgot about yesterday.  

That puts him off balance.  He hates not finishing.  It makes him feel on edge.  Like the world is going to drop from below his feet at any moment.  Like, in forgetting, the world has already dropped from beneath him, and he’s been walking on empty air and delusions.  And if this has already happened, how can he be sure it didn’t happen before.  

He finishes cleaning and files the loose statements away.  

He finally remembers to drink some water.  

He rubs his eyes against unshed tears and exhaustion.  It’s too bright.  Too loud.  

He takes his books up to the library.  

Hannah in the library tells him to remind Tim to return his books, she he does that.  

Jon is.  Edging towards …probably a nervous breakdown, if he’s honest with himself, by the time he stands before Tim’s desk.  

And Tim isn’t going to relinquish his books without a fight.  

“You can give Martin a rest or I’ll tell Hannah that you lost her books.”  Tim crosses his arms.  

It’s reasonable, Jon knows.  He’s behaved childishly.  This is more than warranted.  But, unfortunately his brain isn’t working.  He’s caught up in the disappointment in Tim’s tone, and again, the floor drops from beneath his feet.  Stomach dropping.  He tries to convince himself that, no, Tim doesn’t hate him.  All he as to do is agree or apologize which he should do anyhow.  But.  But what comes out of his mouth is something along the lines of, “Tim, I’ll thank you not to try to run my department.   This is hardly professional behavior.  Who do you think Hannah is more likely to believe?”   

This wouldn’t have been so bad, if not for the force and anger in his tone.  Misplaced confusion and frustration and exhaustion.  

He turns on his heel before Tim finds the words to argue.  

This is it.  

He’s ruined everything.  

Tim will never talk to him again and Sasha won’t either because he was rude to Tim.  And of course Tim’s mad at him because he was a prick to Martin.  

It’s all his fault.  He should have been able to stay on task.  He’s an adult, damnit!  

He finally opens the file but he hitches a sob before he can squeeze the introduction out of his tight jaw.  

He can’t do this.  

He can’t do this job.  

He can’t sleep at night and work all day.  Can’t even feed himself or get to the store once a week.  

How the fuck did he make it through school.  He’s a worthless mess.  

Georgie knew it.  

He wants to scream.  

They’re talking about him.  They must be.  That shouldn’t matter to him.  He’s their boss.  Besides, he was right even if he was rude about it.  Martin does make irritating mistakes.  He could have been more professional about handling it, but he still had to say something.   And Tim.  Tim had no right to bargain that way.  He has a responsibility to the library, and trying to use it as leverage against Jon is ridiculous.  

But at the same time.  There are the closest he has… had to friends.  Tim was his friend.  Right?  

Had he made that up too?  Has some memory of some earlier misdeed fallen out of the torn hole in the pocket of his memory where he looses things like hours, tasks, sleep, meals, meetings, half-finished statements on his desk.  

Why is he like this?  

He gets some more work done.  But none of the stuff on his list.  

He tries to make himself read the statement, again.  But he doesn’t.  

It’s late.  He’s left with lingering taste of disappointment and discontent.  

Today’s been a wash.  

He looks angrily at his scribbled to do list on the neon sticky note, from the stack Tim gave him back in Research.  Nothing’s been crossed off.  Statement has been circled twice.  He rubs at his eyes.  Tries to wipe away the tension headache.  Remembers to take a drink of water, finally.  It’s been hours.  It does help, a little, soothes some of the anxious desperation and crushing despair.  He wonders how much of it would be soothed if he got himself a hot meal.  How would it compare to the relief of finished that statement.  

But…. he won’t be able to go home and sleep if he doesn’t finish, because he won’t be able to relax until he gets it done.  

He allows himself 5 minutes to cry.  He sets a timer.  

It doesn’t help.  Doesn’t even offer the release he’d been hoping for.  

He dries his eyes with his sleeve.  

He reads the statement.  And scolds himself for taking all day to get to it.  It wasn’t hard.  It wasn’t even that bad.  It was a foolish statement that reeked of mischief and falsehood.  And he wasted his whole day avoiding it.  

He cries again, then.  No timer.  

He leaves his office.  He’s finally done with the day.  It’s edging on 21:00.  He feels like shit.  Of course he hadn’t brought a lunch, why would he have enough brain cells to do that?  He did make a halfhearted attempt at breakfast.  But that was a lot of hours ago, and he’d barely managed a few bites before his anxious stomach had stopped him.  He doesn’t feel hungry now, but he knows he is by the shakiness if his limbs, the over-lightness in his head, the irritation at himself still thick in his veins.  

He still has to get himself home.  

Then he hears footsteps on the stairs.  He thinks about going back to his office, but the idea of going back in there makes his head spin.  He’s spent too long in his office.  Christ, he just wants to sleep.  Just wants to be in bed without having to get home and make dinner or order dinner or shower or get in bed.  He just wants to be there.  Just wants to be there and sleep of eternity.  He angrily brushes away a stray tear.  

Of course, it’s too late now to try to hide, and eh certainly can’t hide how rumpled and tear-stained he is.  So he stands there dumbly, some archaic part of his brain reasoning that if he stays still, maybe no one will see him.  

Tim sees him.  Tim is laughing on his phone, pleasantly buzzed, and fumbling for the jacket he most likely forgot before going for drinks.  At least it’s still fairly early.  At least Tim still cares enough about his job to wrap it up at a decent hour.  He spots Jon, and hesitates.  Jon doesn’t look like he’s doing well.  He trails off mid chuckle.  “Sorry Sash, I’ve gotta go.  I’ll talk to you later, yeah?  Had fun tonight.”  

What does he say to Jon, who’d been a right ass earlier.  Jon, who is now teary and frozen, staring at him with exhaustion and mortification.  

He makes a decision, making a conscious choice to make himself smaller and softer.  “Hey, come back to mine, I’m going to buy you dinner.  As my boss, you’re a prick, and I haven’t forgotten that.  But as my friend, you need a curry.  Maybe we can sort out my asshole boss and my upset friend at the same time, yeah?”

[scoupsy-remade]

For this gif tutorial I’m going to try to keep it as basic as possible, I may add a few tips for coloring at the end, but for the most part this is going to be how I make my basic gif. Also I’m not going to use my vapoursynth to process the video beforehand, just because I know not everyone uses it and it’s harder to learn. This is going to be just a downloaded mp4 video through the gif process. Don’t let the idea that this is a BASIC TUTORIAL fool you, I’m going to try to teach you a lot of things. It’s gonna get wordy, but i will try my hardest to keep the process easy. I’m just going to explain what things do instead of having you just copy + paste my method and not know what it means. okay? okay.

Before we start though, if you plan of giffing live stages you either need to accept the they will not be super crisp and clear OR learn how to use avisynth/vapoursynth to resize the videos without quality loss.

If you just want to gif music videos or variety shows then this should still give you HQ gifs.

Other notes:

try to ONLY use 1080p and up video if possible, maybe 720p if you’re really desperate, but anything under that... it’s not going to look good at all, so try to avoid using them.

The Photoshop I am using is PS 2020, so all my screenshots will be from that version and with my weird set up. But I’ve been using pretty much the same method since cc 2015 so other than the fact that some placements and names are tweaked, it’s the same. (If you can’t find something on your version shoot me an ask and I’ll try to help! And asks I get on this tutorial I’ll link HERE for future reference) 

CUTTING VIDEO

To cut videos I’ll just use my quicktime player.

I use edit > trim to select the portion of the video I plan to gif and save that as it’s own new mov file.

which pops up this tab 

that you just slide until the part you want to gif is selected

then just save it as a new video and your done with part 1

ENTER PHOTOSHOP

Now what we’ll do is open our photoshop and import that clip into layers

FILE > IMPORT > VIDEO FRAMES TO LAYERS and select your video.

A small pop up will appear to show the clip you’re opening, you can trim it further here or just keep going by clicking okay

my setup is weird for drawing BUT you should have it looking remotely like this: 

The things you will DEFINITELY need to see are TIMELINE, LAYERS, ADJUSTMENTS. If you don’t have these sections you can add them to your screen by clicking on the WINDOW tab at the very top menu bar and clicking on them

LAYERS - this is pretty self explanatory but each row is a layer in the gif. the more layers the bigger the gif will end up, the longer it plays. So bigger clips will have more layers and end up as larger gifs in the end.

TIMELINE - This is where you can edit the gifs timing (make it faster or slower) 

We’ll be doing a bit of work with it so it’s important to know it well

ADJUSTMENTS - Best friend and worst nightmare. this is where ALL the tedious recoloring is done. VERY rarely would you not use these. 99.9% of kpop things are filmed through a green or blue lense so you’ll want to fix that to not have ghost idols

So, Let’s make a gif

Step 1 - In the top right corner of your timeline is a set of lines, click there and then click SELECT ALL FRAMES

under each frame is a time stamp (this video’s is 0.04) this decides how fast each clip goes by, or how quickly the gif moves. Personally I prefer slower gifs, but I say anywhere between 0.04-0.06 is a decent speed.

Step 2 - with all the frames selected, click on the small down arrow next to any of the frames and change the speed to your liking. (I’m going to use .06)

Step 3 - in that same tab of lines we’ll now click CONVERT TO VIDEO TIMELINE, which will change our Timeline to look like this:

Step 4 - Back in our very TOP menu we’ll click SELECT > ALL LAYERS, then on the TOP menu click FILTER > CONVERT FOR SMART FILTERS (this might take your computer a minute since our File is still pretty large.) Now our Time line will look like this: 

Step 5 - Sharpening

This one is VERY MUCH something you’re going to have to play with to get your settings to be how you like them. It’s also where I’d use topaz adjustments, BUT since I said we’re doing basic PS gif we’re just going to be using smart sharpening. SO: 

 in the TOP munu again, click FILTER > SHARPEN > SMART SHARPEN

A pop up window will appear and you can edit the settings to your liking. Mine:

Step 6 - Resize your gif or crop it to tumblrs standards:  big singal gifs have a 540px width ||  Two gifs use 268px || and three gifs use 177/178px

To do this we’ll use the crop tool and type in our dimensions in the menu bar:

and then crop to your liking. (this doesnt resize the gif it just crops to the correct ratio so we still have to shrink the gif) 

Next, we’ll resize the gif to that size in the TOP menu click IMAGE > IMAGE SIZE a pop up menu will appear and you’ll type in your resize ratio and click enter.

Now technically thats a gif. it’s TECHNICALLY done. but mine is white washed and there are words on it that I dont want so onto the coloring and blurring. 

First I’m going to show you how I blur text on gifs. because text is EVERYWHERE in kpop content and it’s hideous and I hate it. so lets kill it.

BLURRING LETTERING

First we’re going to add a new blank layer to our LAYER TAB by clicking the little box with the + inside at the bottom

Sometimes doing this can mess up the timeline’s selection but its SUPER easy to fix so lets do that. 

So in our timeline we have these two bars on each side that select what part of the gif will play. this is also where you can readjust your gif if it has extra frames at the end, or it ends up being too large and you have to make the gif smaller to save it. Just click and drag the bars back to where our gif actually ends, and all is fixed!

Now on our new layer we’re gonna take a paint brush (one of the ones with a lot of fade NOT the solid circle ) and paint over where the words are like so:

MAKE SURE ITS ON OUR BLANK LAYER AND NOT THE GIF LAYER!!

I know it looks stupid but trust me okay. 

Now in your LAYER tab we’re going to duplicate our gif layer by right clicking on it and selecting duplicate. 

Then we’re going to drag the new gif layer so that it’s above the paint layer in our LAYER tab :

Now, right click on the top gif layer and select CREATE CLIPPING MASK. it should put a little down arrow to the left of the picture, toward the paint layer. This means the gif is ONLY visible where that paint is now.

So we’re going to click on FILTER in the TOP menu again (while we still have that top gif selected!) and Go to BLUR > GAUSSIAN BLUR. a pop up menu will appear and you can just drag the radius until the text is as blurry as you want it to be. (also IF you missed part of the text, you can just go add more paint to your paint layer and it will blur wherever you paint!) 

so now my gif is like so:

So now we’ll color him, because he’s pretty washed out.

ADJUSTMENTS

This is where I’m going to be the least specific about what I do and more about what tools do, so that you can learn how to color things the way you like them!

The Adjustment tab on Photoshop has 16 options but I’m really only going to talk about 6 of them. We’ll do it in order though. All the actual adjustment tools will open in the PROPERTIES tab

Brightness / Contrast  - Pretty self explanatory, but definitely should be toward the end of your coloring, as if can effect the quality a lot. Small adjustments do A LOT so don’t go crazy, 

Levels - Levels is all about the balance of how dar or light your gifs will be if you adjust in the RGB layer it will adjust for the entire image, but if you change the selection to RED/GREEN/BLUE it will adjust just those colors hues. Also there are three small droppers to the left of the graph. using those you can select which part of the gif you want the image to recognize as the lightest/darkest part of the gif, and the tool will adjust the gifs coloring to that point. ( play with those droppers! magic happens i swear!) 

Curves - Kind of like levels but instead of how light or dark the entire image is it works more on contrast. REALLY play with the curves options, i’m sure most things you can do with other tools can also just be done in curves if you’re patient enough to learn

Vibrance / Saturation -  Vibrance will make duller parts of an image higher contract and brighter and saturation will make everything a more neon shade. or in reverse lowering vibrance will dull out the things that were already neutral and saturation will dull out the more vibrant parts of the image (usually reds)

Color Balance - Good for fixing tones. so if a live stage is SUPER BLUE!!!!! you can readjust and calm down the blues to dull them out or get rid of them completely. Again play with this its insane what it can do 

Selective Color - adjusts the different colors in your image without touching the other colors. if you wanna touch the reds, make them pinker but not change the blues and greens, you do it here

If you want MORE drawn out explanations of what each of the 16 adjustment layers do here and here are actual articles you can look at.  But it’s all about practice. playing with all the adjustments alone and together. Finding out what you like to do!

Now when you gif is ALLLLL colored and you’re ready to save it we do FILE > EXPORT > SAVE FOR THE WEB and a whole new window of options pops up. I’ll give you two examples of how to play with those options and then we’re done! 

keep in MIND tumblr’s gif limit is 10MB which is pretty huge now, but still watch your gif size!!!!

AND SAVE your done!

I hope this was helpful! Let me know if you have any questions,again I’ll have an ask tag for it and it’ll get linked HERE if people end up needing help!

Happy giffing!!!

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: 【掌中流光】 Xia Yan’s Light in Palms Date Translation

--

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist

Video: https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1nX4y1u7XA/

Because the timing of this date story is New Year’s Eve, I aimed to have it finished and posted for today (i.e. our New Year’s Eve). Happy New Year, everyone! Hoping that 2021 will be much better!

PART 1

Xia Yan’s House

Today was the last day on the calendar. 

As the first New Year’s Eve after my reunion with Xia Yan, we had originally made a chock-full travel plan - but before we were about to set out, Xia Yan suddenly received a command to return to the capital, and didn’t return until last night. Because I didn’t want Xia Yan to be travel-worn again, I decided on staying at home for a leisurely New Year’s Eve – a day spent playing games! A night spent feasting! Going at zero-o’clock to see the New Year’s Eve fireworks show!

Although, when we put this “Leisurely New Year’s Eve Plan” into action, it wasn’t very leisurely…

Xia Yan: Right side! The enemy went over there!

MC: Where where?! I can’t see it!

In a panic, I manipulated the video game controller to adjust my viewing angle, but I didn’t see anything at all.

Bang bang bang— A barrage of gunshot sounds suddenly started. My blood meter started losing blood crazily, just like a water pipe that had exploded.

MC: Ahhh! My blood meter’s in the red!

Xia Yan: Give it to me!

I immediately stuffed the controller into Xia Yan’s hands, but he hadn’t even received it firmly when my view went grey. My character had fallen in battle.

MC: …

MC: This is too much… 

Xia Yan and I attempted to refresh our save points from eight years ago. We were clearly able to co-op smoothly before, with flashing lights announcing our clears, yet we were actually on a losing streak today! Discouraged, I threw aside the controller, then reclined backwards into the beanbag chair.

Xia Yan: Don’t be discouraged – we haven’t played this for several years. It’s natural to be out of practice.

Xia Yan: How about we go through our save points for the casual games?

MC: That’s fine… I need to play some easy, refreshing casual games to restore my spirit.

Xia Yan: Then you can go ahead and pick a game. I’ll go wash some apples – after eating them, we’ll play!

MC: Mhmm!

While Xia Yan washed the apples, I flipped through his box of game hard drives.

MC: Xia Yan – why are there only a little over ten games in your box? What about the others?

Xia Yan: There in the other box, on the shelf on the right side of the computer – feel free to look there.

I searched in the spot that Xia Yan had mentioned. Sure enough, I noticed several boxes - the box in the corner of the lowest shelf looked particularly exquisite. Looking at the dust that had accumulated on the wood box, it had been placed there for at least several months.

MC: This box is so pretty… and it’s fairly heavy!

I carefully took the box and opened the lid – there was a bottle of sealed foreign liquor inside. The transparent glass in a rectangular column shape was filled with an amber liquid and the yellowing wine label on the bottle had English and numbers handwritten on it. 

MC: Why is the wine label handwritten? “Whisky”… it’s whiskey, right?

There was also a note beside the wine bottle. The paper had a firm texture, with a tall-stemmed wineglass and a curlicue letter “L” stamped at the top. There was neat, beautiful handwriting on the memo – looking at the writing, it was written by the same writer of the wine label. “Before reaching the end, the possibility of unexpected opportunities will always exist. – Bar L”

MC: (Is there some implication of this specific phrase being written?)

I had sunken into thought while looking at the memo. By then, Xia Yan had already returned, carrying the plate of washed apples. He saw the whiskey in the wooden box and froze somewhat.

MC: Xia Yan, why did you keep a bottle of whiskey? Do you like drinking whiskey?

MC: Is “Bar L” the name of a bar? They even gave you a note in here – are you a frequent customer there?

Xia Yan: To understand a city, the easiest way is to take a seat in the bars of the city.

Xia Yan: Plus, bars are the gathering places of all sorts of information. Of course I’ll go to bars often, to collect some information.

MC: So this bar is the one you go to most often?

Xia Yan: It’s one of them.

Xia Yan looked towards that bottle of whiskey.

Xia Yan: At the beginning of the year, I helped out at Bar L as a bartender because of a commission.

Xia Yan: The bar owner’s a great person and took great care of me. This bottle of whiskey that he brewed himself is a gift he sent me.

MC: So that’s how it is. But why didn’t you bring up before about how you even know how to bartend?

After Xia Yan returned, he’d already told me told me a lot of matters that didn’t involve “secrets”, but I’ve never heard him bring up this bartending matter back then. 

Xia Yan: Hm? There’s nothing special about bartending – it’s not worth bringing up.

MC: ???

MC: What about it isn’t special? What about it isn’t worth bringing up?! 

I was absolutely speechless. I really wanted to know what Xia Yan was like when he was a bartender and what kind of situations he encountered in the bar, but as far as I could see, Xia Yan still had a confused look all over his face – so I decided to find another way.

MC: Xia Yan, could you take me to hang out at Bar L?

Xia Yan: Ah?

MC: I heard that on the night of New Year’s Eve, there will be really interesting events in bars. I want to go see.

MC: Plus, it’s almost the New Year.

MC: Since the owner of this bar took care of you before, we should also say hi to him and send our respects.

Xia Yan: That’s true. The owner has also recently called me to come hang out when I had time.

Xia Yan: Then let’s go.

--

Commerce Street

With the hues of evening all around, the commerce street, hung full of holiday lanterns, was neon with multiple colors. On the corner of the street, a heavy oak door was hidden under the shade of a tree. A relief sculpture of a wineglass pattern and a curlicue letter “L” were on the door. 

Xia Yan: Here it is – we’ve arrived. 

MC: It has a major “hidden in the city” feel to it.

I looked at the oak door in front of me, feeling more and more expectant.

MC: (It’s said that bars are the gathering place of stories…)

MC: (I’ll definitely be able to hear about lots of stories about when Xia Yan was a bartender.)

I wanted to know those people Xia Yan had known and hear them talk about Xia Yan-related things. After all, those people there just might know a lot about those little matters that Xia Yan considered not worth bringing up. 

But nothing is not worth bringing up. 

I wanted to make up for all the stories about Xia Yan in those lost eight years.

PART 2

Bar L

When Xia Yan and I entered Bar L, they had just started operating for the night – there weren’t any guests. Under the gentle lights, the tables and chairs made from logs seemed to exude the gentleness of a past era. Xia Yan closed the entrance’s oak door, cutting off the moment of hustle and bustle from the street.

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen, I’ve come to bother you.

Uncle Chen: It’s Little Xia! Welcome, welcome.

A bartender standing inside the bar counter nodded and smiled at us. He looked like he was around 40 years old, with a face and voice that were equally gentle. After Xia Yan and I arrived at and sat down in front of the counter, Xia Yan did a simple introduction for us.

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen is the owner and bartender of Bar L. His bartending techniques and wine brewing techniques are incredibly amazing. 

Xia Yan: My bottle of whiskey was brewed by Uncle Chen himself.

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen, can we pass the New Year’s Eve at your place here?

Uncle Chen: Haha, of course.

Uncle Chen: The guests for tonight will definitely be very happy to be able to see the “Bartender Detective” again.

MC: “Bartender Detective”?

Xia Yan: It’s what the guests jokingly call me, because in addition to my bartending, sometimes I’ll do some simple detective work for guests. 

Looking at my responseless look, Uncle Chen helplessly laughed and shook his head.

Uncle Chen: This explanation isn’t exact enough.

Uncle Chen: Providing detective services simultaneously with his bartending isn’t the only reason why Little Xia is known as the “Bartender Detective”.

Uncle Chen: At the very beginning, it was because Little Xia once solved a guest’s problem within the time he spent creating a drink. 

Uncle Chen: After, even if they didn’t need a detective, guests still loved to find Little Xia to talk to, having him guess their profession, where they just came from, stuff like that.

Uncle Chen: Slowly, this nickname spread.

MC: So Xia Yan even had this kind of story when he was a bartender!

This “Bartender Detective” matter must have been omitted by Xia Yan as something “not worth bringing up”. Sure enough, I was right to come straight here!

Uncle Chen: I’ve only been focusing on talking and didn’t ask what the young lady would like to drink. My hospitality really is insufficient. 

Uncle Chen: Does the young lady want to have a hot drink like last time? Or do you want to try something else?

MC: Last time?

I only knew about this bar from seeing Xia Yan’s whiskey today…

Seeing that I was somewhat at a loss, Uncle Chen smiled.

Uncle Chen: Though today is the first time that Little Yan has brought a friend over, it’s not the first time I’ve seen the young lady.

Uncle Chen: On a rainy day at the beginning of the year, the young lady came in here and ordered a glass of hot drink from me.

All of a sudden, I remembered. At that time, a client made an appointment to see me near this place, but he suddenly had some unexpected matters to deal with before we met and would come a little late. Because it was raining, the nearby shops had already filled up with people, so I walked into this bar to avoid the rain and pass the time.

MC: Your memory is so good, being able to remember so clearly about something that had happened so long ago.

MC: Plus, there were particularly many guests that time because of the rain.

Uncle Chen: About this…

Without waiting for Uncle Chen to speak, Xia Yan immediately took over talking.

Xia Yan: “A qualified bartender does not only need to understand alcohol – they need to understand people even more. They should do all within their ability to remember the habits of each guest and let them feel at home.”

Xia Yan: This is the phrase that Uncle Chen speaks most often, so of course he would remember you.

MC: So that’s how it is. This must be the so-called “craftsman’s mindset”. 

MC: (Wait, since I came to this bar at the beginning of the year…)

A doubt suddenly flashed in my head.

MC: Xia Yan, weren’t you also helping here at Uncle Chen’s place at the beginning of the year? Why didn’t I see you when I came that day?

That day, it seemed like Uncle Chen was the only bartender in the bar.

Xia Yan: …!

Xia Yan’s expression got suspiciously panicked.

Xia Yan: I… I must have taken a day off on that day.

Xia Yan: During that time, I had a particularly large amount of detective commissions, so I was a little busy.

Xia Yan quickly placed the drink menu in front of me.

Xia Yan: Right, didn’t Uncle Chen just ask you what you wanted to drink?

Xia Yan: Fruit punch, the Cinderella, and the midsummer fruit drink are all non-alcoholic cocktails, and they taste pretty good. Want to try?

MC: (This forced change in topic – he’s definitely lying.)

MC: (Xia Yan, you’ve even learned to hide from me…) 

But for now, I decided to not take apart Xia Yan’s lies in front of Uncle Chen.

I pressed down on my thoughts, lowered my head, and swept a glance over the drink menu.

MC: Today’s a holiday. I want to order something with alcohol.

Looking at Xia Yan and I, Uncle Chen laughed.

Uncle Chen: If the young lady doesn’t have any special preferences, then I would like to recommend my self-brewed whiskey.

As he spoke, Uncle Chen took a bottle of whiskey from the wine shelf. The bottle was identical to the one in Xia Yan’s house.

MC: This bottle of alcohol… it seems like it’s the same as the bottle that you sent to Xia Yan before.

Uncle Chen: That’s right, they’re the same kind of alcohol. I feel like it very much suits Little Xia.

MC: It very much suits Xia Yan? Why?

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen—

Without waiting for Uncle Chen to speak, Xia Yan opened his mouth again. It was very obvious that he wanted to take over in talking…

>Prevent him >Let him

MC: (You thought I’d let you take control of the situation? Too naïve, Xia Yan!)

I quickly grabbed a piece of chocolate from the snack plate and peeled it open.

MC: Xia Yan, you must be hungry from talking so much—

Xia Yan: *mouth full noises*!

I stuffed the chocolate into Xia Yan’s mouth and covered it tightly. Xia Yan’s lips struggled futilely under my hand, and I faced back towards Uncle Chen. 

MC: Uncle Chen, is there a story about Xia Yan and this bottle of whiskey?

Uncle Chen looked at me and Xia Yan, who had no way to resist, the smile on his face deep.

>Prevent him >Let him

MC: (Let me see what you’re going to say this time…)

Thus, I put on a gentle smiling expression, looking intently and quietly at Xia Yan. Under my “friendly” gaze, Xia Yan closed his just-opened mouth up again.

Xia Yan: …

For a while, we were both silent. Uncle Chen looked at Xia Yan and I, the smile on his face deep.

Uncle Chen: Has the young lady heard of a phrase like this – “All the stories in a bar are in the wine”?

Uncle Chen: Would you like to try this whiskey?

MC: Yes! I’ll have to request you for it.

Uncle Chen took a glass cup, placed three ice cubes inside, and then used the bartending spoon to stir it quickly. A few minutes later, he filtered out the melted water, poured it into the whiskey, and mixed it again. The spoon slid unceasingly between the ice cubes and the cups, but it didn’t make the slightest bit of noise.

Uncle Chen: Does the young lady know how whiskey is brewed?

MC: I’m not too clear on it… is it similar to wine?

Uncle Chen: For whiskey to become pulp from grain, it needs to undergo germination, saccharification, fermentation, aging, and six procedures of mixing.

Uncle Chen: For it to mature, it will take at least several years, going up to over 10 years.

Uncle Chen: Within this long period of time, no matter how expectant or how anxious the brewer is, or how much they’ve put their entire physical and mental effort into this, they still have no way of absolutely guaranteeing the taste at the end.

MC: Is that so?

MC: (Although, what does this have to do with Xia Yan?)

While I mulled this over, Uncle Chen had already finished adjusting the whiskey. He gently pushed it over.

Uncle Chen: The whiskey – please try it.

I held up the whiskey and took a sip gingerly.  The alcohol that had ice added slid smoothly into my mouth, but the aroma didn’t weaken in the slightest bit. The oaky fragrance mixed with the grain’s sweetness.

MC: It tastes great! Uncle Chen, the liquor you’ve brewed really is too amazing!

Uncle Chen: I’m very glad you like it.

Uncle Chen: In fact, when this batch of whiskey was first completely brewed, it didn’t have this taste.

Uncle Chen: It tasted very spicy, its aroma was average – it could be considered a major failure.

Uncle Chen: But after leaving it for a month, it became the taste it has now.

MC: So it was actually like this? Why?

Uncle Chen: Because of light, the surrounding air, and temperature. Sometimes, these things that one must consider when preserving whiskey can instead end up bringing good changes.

Uncle Chen: A failure at one point does not represent one’s life.

Uncle Chen: Before reaching the end, the possibility of unexpected opportunities will always exist.

“Before reaching the end, the possibility of unexpected opportunities will always exist.” This was the same as the sentence written on that note from earlier.

MC: It sounds like you’re talking about wine, yet it also seems like it’s a philosophy that can describe one’s life.

Uncle Chen: The stories in wine naturally also have life to them.

Uncle Chen looked at me, his smile very gentle. I felt that he was implying something in his words - did Xia Yan encounter some sort of issue back then? But why didn’t he come see and talk to me? Instead, he hid from me…

I looked towards the whiskey beside Uncle Chen’s hand. On the glass bottle filled with amber liquor, Xia Yan’s expression was reflected, looking quietly at me. I met his gaze for a moment, and Xia Yan choked, coughing once.

Xia Yan: Ahem…!

Xia Yan: I just wanted to say, drink it slower…

MC: (Xia Yan…)

I was just pondering what to do next, when suddenly, the bar door was opened again. Uncle Chen looked at the person who’d arrived, then stood up very quickly to walk to the bar counter.

Uncle Chen: Excuse me – I must leave for a bit.

After Uncle Chen left, I looked towards Xia Yan again.

MC: Xia Yan, you said before that you came to Uncle Chen’s place to help because of a commission.

MC: Which means, it’s not related to work that needs to be kept secret, right?

Xia Yan: Uh… that’s right.

MC: (Since it’s not related, then it should be fine if I ask a bit.)

MC: Xia Yan, at the beginning of the year, did you encounter some kind of situation? So you…

Xia Yan: Nah, I just happened to not be there that day.

Xia Yan: Alright, we’ve already reunited now, so don’t worry about the thing from that day.

MC: …

This guy’s trying to change the topic again.

>Frontal attack >Guide patiently and systematically >Joke around

MC: (Xia Yan, you’ve forced me to use extraordinary methods.)

I deliberately put on my intimidating court trial expression.

MC: Don’t you know that you’re really bad at lying? Plus, you kept changing the topic in front of Uncle Chen!

MC: You’re not just lying with this – you’re even openly mocking my IQ!

MC: If this can be tolerated, what can’t be?

Xia Yan: I…

MC: Severity to those who confess. Even more severity to those who resist! Hurry and own up!

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: Great Lawyer, I’m scared of you…

>Frontal attack >Guide patiently and systematically >Joke around

I shifted towards Xia Yan’s side.

MC: Xia Yan…

Xia Yan: What, what are you doing…

MC: Did you really take a day off that day?

MC: You’re not allowed to lie to me. Look straight at my eyes and talk.

Xia Yan: …

MC: Why did you hide from me? If you met with me at that time, we could have reunited earlier by a few months.

MC: Could – you – tell – me…

Tugging on Xia Yan’s arm, I gently rocked it back and forth with a face full of sincerity.

Xia Yan: You’re using this trick again…

>Frontal attack >Guide patiently and systematically >Joke around

I pushed the whiskey that Uncle Chen had prepared towards Xia Yan’s hand. Then, I leaned over, lifted the wisps of hair beside my ear, feigning an elegant air, and gave him a smile.

MC: Handsome brother, I’ve got wine – do you have a story?

I deliberately used a classic line.

Xia Yan: …

MC: Don’t stay silent – from one glance, you’re clearly someone with a story.

MC: How about we chat?

Xia Yan: Where did you learn this from…

I was just about to continue when Xia Yan suddenly angled his head towards the bar door. 

Xia Yan: Ah, Uncle Chen’s returning!

I followed Xia Yan’s gaze. The guest from earlier had already left, and Uncle Chen was walking back, holding a document. Suddenly, a bell sound came from his body. Uncle Chen picked up the phone, and a few seconds later, he started to resentfully reproach the caller.

Uncle Chen: Do not call again!

Right after he said this, Uncle Chen hung up with indignation all over his face.

Xia Yan: …

MC: …

In astonishment, Xia Yan and I looked at each other.

PART 3

Bar L

After Uncle Chen hung up, he returned very quickly to the bar counter. He smiled at Xia Yan and I very apologetically.

Uncle Chen: Harasser calls – don’t worry about it.

MC: …

Did Uncle Chen run into some trouble? But would it be discourteous for me, someone who has just met him, to question him closely… I was just hesitating when Xia Yan asked him extremely directly.

Xia Yan: A harasser call won’t make you lose your composure like this. Did you run into some trouble?

Uncle Chen: Just a little issue.

Xia Yan: The document in your hands looks like a detective’s tracking progress for a report on work-related investigations.

Xia Yan: In the past few days, you didn’t just call me simply to have me come hang out – you had something that you wanted to discuss with me, right?

MC: (In the past few days, Xia Yan returned to the capital because of a command…)

MC: (Did Uncle Chen look for other detectives to help because of this?)

Xia Yan: “No matter what troubles a bartender has, when he’s behind the bar counter, he must have a professional expression. He can’t bring troubles to the guests.”

Xia Yan: I know this is your pride and persistence.

Xia Yan: It’s just that, as a detective, I want to investigate secrets when I notice them.

Xia Yan: So, I’d like to request the owner to take special care of the detective guest that likes to look for trouble that I am!

Xia Yan turned around and gently held up that bottle of whiskey on the table.

Xia Yan: Plus, I haven’t given a return gift for the unusually valuable gift you sent me before.

The past between Xia Yan, Uncle Chen, and this bar must run very deep. Though I still didn’t understand what had happened, I took over from Xia Yan’s words.

MC: As the saying goes, “three ignorant cobblers combined can surpass a genius”. If you need the help of a detective, Xia Yan’s the best of them!

MC: If it’s not a secret that’s hard to talk about, please talk about it with us. We might be able to help.

Uncle Chen looked at us, sinking into silence for a moment, then sighed.

Uncle Chen: It’s actually not something major – just a little upsetting.

Uncle Chen: Before, someone who I was familiar with borrowed some money from me, and signed the promissory note according to stipulated formats.

Uncle Chen: But last month, when I went to find him, he said that he has never borrowed any money from me.

MC: He denied it? But there’s proof.

Uncle Chen: So I sued him, and applied for a handwriting appraisal, but the appraisal results showed that the handwriting on the promissory note wasn’t his.

Xia Yan: Could it have been signed by someone else?

Uncle Chen: At that time, only he and I were in the shop.

Uncle Chen: Although… when it was time to sign, he told me that he wasn’t feeling well and had me help him by pouring a glass of hot water.

Uncle Chen: Now that I think about it, that was just an excuse. He took advantage of the opportunity to sign it with his left hand.

MC: With his left hand?

Uncle Chen: He was left-handed when he was little, and only changed after many years of rectification.

MC: Then did you do a handwriting appraisal with his left hand?

Uncle Chen: I also applied to do a left-hand handwriting appraisal, but the result was the same.

Xia Yan: Do you have the right and left hand handwriting appraisal documents here?

Uncle Chen: It’s here.

Uncle Chen found the right and left hand handwriting appraisal documents. Xia Yan and I carefully compared all the writing marks on it.

Xia Yan: Looking at the handwriting records of the appraisal documents, his left handwriting is, in fact, that of a novice’s.

Xia Yan: His pen marks are inaccurate, the places where he lifts the pen lacks strength, and the marks are crooked and shaky… all signs of lack of practice and inconsistent use of a hand to write.

Xia Yan: I’m afraid that he deliberately wrote this kind of font to trick the appraisal.

MC: He must be very skilled at using his left hand to be able to use it to write faked handwriting.

Xia Yan: That’s right.

Xia Yan: Since he’s thought up of tricks and plans to prove that he is no longer left-handed, then we’ll use his plan, that he used against others, against him.

Xia Yan: We just need to prove that he still can skillfully use his left hand for this appraisal to collapse on itself.

Uncle Chen: But there’s not enough time.

Time? I immediately reacted.

MC: After losing a trial, if one wants to change the verdict results, one must appeal within set time limits.

Uncle Chen: Yes, today is the last day of the time limit.

Uncle Chen: Before, I had other detectives follow him and investigate, but none of them noticed anything.

MC: (Uncle Chen felt that there was already no way out by now, so when we came in earlier, he didn’t bring up a single word about this…)

Uncle Chen: Good thing that the amount he borrowed wasn’t very large – it was within my bearable range.

Uncle Chen: Plus, suffering financial loss to avoid calamities might be a blessing in disguise.

Uncle Chen laughed kindly. He wasn’t comforting himself – instead, he was comforting us.

Uncle Chen: Let’s not bring up these disappointing matters on a holiday.

Uncle Chen: Weren't you two planning to pass New Year’s Eve here? For this year’s New Year’s Eve, I’ve prepared a lot of interesting activities –

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen, to give up now is to fall right into what he wants.

Xia Yan: I’m afraid that he purposefully borrowed an amount that you would be reluctantly willing to bear. He wants you to give up in the end, not wanting to make a big fuss over this.

As Uncle Chen was talking earlier, Xia Yan had already completely flipped through that detective’s tracking investigation report.

Xia Yan: I know that you’re worried that finding evidence within such a short time is too difficult. 

Xia Yan: In spite of this, don’t worry.

Xia Yan: I’m the “Bartender Detective” who once solved a problem within the time spent preparing a glass of drink, after all.

Xia Yan: There are still a few hours before zero-o’clock – we’ll have more than enough time.

MC: Uncle Chen, when I heard you talk about the “Bartender Detective” earlier, I was very curious.

MC: Just view it as you giving me the chance to personally see Xia Yan as the “Bartender Detective”!

Uncle Chen: But that guy has already noticed how I had detectives follow him. He called me just now to ridicule me.

Uncle Chen: He’s definitely already prepared thoroughly. If you go now...

Xia Yan: Don’t worry. I actually think that this is exactly something we can use.

Bar Street

Xia Yan and I went towards the most popular bar on the bar street – “HOT&CLUB”. Even several tens of meters from the door, the music surging out from inside was still audible.

MC: According to the previous detective’s investigation, this is the borrower Cui Xu’s most-frequented bar.

MC: As soon as we submit an appeal, Cui Xu will receive a notice from court. He’s bound to be extremely careful – getting evidence will be very difficult.

Xia Yan: So we need to get evidence that he is left-handed before 12-o’clock tonight and then have Uncle Chen file an appeal.

Xia Yan: Cui Xu is a frequent guest of bars, and he’s very skilled at bar games like table tennis and darts.

Xia Yan: We can set up a situation to make contact with him, lead him into competing with me, and then collect materials with that.

MC: Competing?

When we were little, a relative bought a dartboard for Xia Yan and I. Unwittingly, Xia Yan then developed a habit of throwing darts to clear up his mind when thinking.

MC: Your darts technique is pretty good, but competing…

MC: And do you know how to play table tennis?

Xia Yan: Of course. Plus, I’ve never encountered a worthy opponent these past few years!

Looking at my surprised expression, he smiled.

Xia Yan: My work requires me to get in and out of all sorts of situations. If I want to be freely adaptable to changes, I naturally need to know a bit of everything.

Relaxing, I nodded. Since Xia Yan said that there are no problems, there will definitely be no problems. Thus, I changed focus, starting to think about ways to lead on Cui Xu.

MC: For Cui Yuan to be able to forge handwriting, he must have high anti-reconnaissance awareness.

MC: If we’re too deliberate with leading Cui Xu to compete with you, we’d instead arouse his suspicions.

Xia Yan: We have to make it deliberate.

Xia Yan winked.

Xia Yan: Cui Xu just called Uncle Chen to provoke him – he’s quite arrogant.

Xia Yan: What would he be like if he saw a deliberate and third-rate trap?

MC: So you plan to use this detail about him to perform a bout of “the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind it”?

Xia Yan: That’s right.

MC: Then I feel like this plan can be optimized some more.

Xia Yan: How do you want to optimize it?

MC: I’ll be the “cicada”.

HOT&CLUB

Xia Yan and I walked into HOT&CLUB. The sound of drums was deafening, and the dazzling lights roved over the bodies of the dancing guys and girls. Xia Yan embraced my shoulders, guarding me within the crook of his arm. We walked in the sea of people while looking for Cui Xu.

MC: Found him – he’s over there.

I was just about to head over when Xia Yan suddenly tugged my wrist.

MC: Don’t worry, Great Detective.

MC: I’ve often done this level of acting before when going to get evidence – I won’t expose us.

Xia Yan: I know.

Xia Yan smiled, slowly letting go of my wrist.

Xia Yan: I just wanted to tell you that I’ll always be behind you, where you can see me just by turning around.

MC: Mhmm!

-- I faked an expression like something unexpected had happened and walked towards the bar counter, sitting down on the spot beside Cui Xu. I first looked for the busy bartender on the other side, then, as I flipped through the drinks menu, sneakily looked over the other guests’ cocktails at the bar counter.

Cui Xu: Is this the young lady’s first time at a bar?

MC: Uh… it is. You can tell?

Cui Xu: Of course. Just now, you were looking all over the place, with an expression like you were at a complete loss.

Cui Xu: Are you waiting for a friend?

MC: I was stood up by someone, so I came into the bar to pass some time.

Cui Xu: It’s such a waste for such a pretty face to be spent on anger. Here, I’ll treat you to a drink.

MC: I’m not too great with drinking alcohol – I’m just afraid of getting drunk right after finishing.

MC: I’ve heard that there are a lot of games in bars, and I’d like to try them first.

Without changing my tone or expression, I guided my conversation with Cui Xu, turning the topic to what Xia Yan said earlier – an activity that could expose that he was left-handed.

MC: I’ll probably not bother with dancing… too tired.

MC: Working every day is already so tiring. It’s hard enough to get an opportunity to relax, so I’d prefer a quiet and interesting game. 

MC: Table tennis does look pretty cool, but there are too many people over there…

Cui Xu: Then how about darts?

MC: (That’s exactly it!)

I faked an ignorant expression.

MC: Ah, darts… I’ve seen darts competitions on television before, but I don’t really know how to play.

Cui Xu: No worries, I’ll teach you. My dart skills are the real deal.

As Cui Xu said this, he compared his thumbs, then stood up, leading me to the other end of the bar counter – where the dart machine was. I turned back, looking at Xia Yan, and he nodded at me.

PART 4

HOT&CLUB

Cui Xu: Right, you haven’t ordered anything since you came to the bar, yeah?

As Cui Xu spoke, he handed me a glass of “iced red tea”. The orange liquid was embellished with lemon slices, ice cubes, and mint leaves – bright and beautiful.

Cui Xu: I’ll treat you.

Cui Xu: This is a non-alcoholic cocktail, with a taste like iced red tea. It very much suits girls.

MC: Whoa, it looks very pretty. I can’t even bear to drink it.

MC: (As if anyone would believe it really is “iced red tea”…)

I hadn’t even been able to refuse it yet when Xia Yan’s voice sounded behind me.

Xia Yan: Using a Long Island iced tea to trick girls – that’s way too tasteless.

Cui Xu: Tch…

Cui Xu “hmph”-ed coldly, turned around, and slowly looked over Xia Yan.

Cui Xu: What nonsense are you talking about? Wanna start something?

Xia Yan: How could this be considered wanting to start something?

Xia Yan: This is a bar, after all. You’re not the only one who wants to strike up a conversation with a beautiful lady.

Xia Yan: Although, my method of striking up a conversation is – to find an opportunity, and to act handsome.

Smiling, Xia Yan sent a glance over to me, his expression reckless and brash. I, who had just led Cui Xu through the plan skillfully and easily, felt at a loss for a moment.

MC: …!

Xia Yan casually took the darts in my hand. His fingertips brushed over the back of my hand, somewhat rough and slightly warm. The dart spun in his fingertips, looking like a flower, becoming a sharp tip in flight. Xia Yan looked at Cui Xu across from it, his expression very provoking.

Xia Yan: How about we compete in a round?

Cui Xu poked at his eyebrow, then disdainfully sounded out a “heh”.

Cui Yuan: “501”, double entry.

Xia Yan: Sure.

After he finished speaking, Xia Yan no longer bothered with Cui Xu. He turned around to “strike up a conversation” with me.

Xia Yan: Beautiful lady, do you know how points are recorded in dart competitions? 

MC: Uh… I’ve seen a few competitions.

MC: The dartboard is split into a total of 20 divisions. Accordingly, the numbers on the dartboard are all different. Each are marked from 1 to 20 points.

MC: The two narrow circles on the dartboard are individually for double and triple points. It’s like this, right?

Xia Yan: You’re pretty knowledgeable about it. What a pity – I’d wanted to give you an explanation.

MC: Hahaha…

MC: (When we were little, I saw you play it so many times and accompanied you in watching so many competitions. How could I not remember…)

MC: Then could I trouble you to explain “501” and “double entry”? I’m not too familiar with these…

Xia Yan: The so-called “double entry” game requires you to hit the double-point area to start recording points, and it requires you to hit the double-point area to win the competition.

Xia Yan: As for “501”, each person’s starting points are 501 points. The accumulated points increase or decrease based on the dart throws.

Xia Yan: Each game has 20 rounds, and you can throw 30 darts in one round. The first person to lower their points to 0 is the winner.

MC: 20 rounds? So won’t you have to throw 60 darts?

Cui Xu: How could we let the beautiful lady wait that long! Nine darts is enough.

MC: Nine darts?

Cui Xu: This is the fastest, and simultaneously the hardest, way to win a dart competition – “Nine dart collection”.

Cui Xu walked behind the throwing line.

Cui Xu: Using nine darts is just three rounds to take the points from the original 20 rounds.

Cui Xu: The world’s first double entry nine dart collection was achieved on October 8, 2011, at the World Darts Championship’s semi-finals. 

Cui Xu: Brendan Dolan vs. James Wade. 

Cui Xu: Back then, the score count that Brendan Dolan achieved in the first round was –

He threw out a dart –

Cui Xu: D20.

Bam! – The dart stably struck the 20-point double point area.

Cui Xu: And then – T20, twice.

Following Cui Xu’s voice, two darts successively struck the 20-point triple point area. He turned around, raised his chin at Xia Yan, his lips curving upwards in a completely taunting way.

MC: …

Xia Yan met Cui Xu’s gaze indifferently and just laughed. He walked up to the throwing line and held up the dart very casually.

Though Xia Yan had said before that he had never met a worthy opponent until today, the skill Cui Xu just showed…

MC: (No, Xia Yan is definitely even more amazing.)

I silently stayed firm with this belief in my heart. Suddenly, a whistle sounded not far from me.

Xia Yan: Beautiful lady, why are you zoning out?

MC: !!!

Maybe it was because Xia Yan had poked at my focus on my worries, maybe it was this frivolous tone of his, but my heart was suddenly in a panic. I met Xia Yan’s gaze – in his expression, there was a defiance and brashness I had never seen before.

Xia Yan: If you don’t watch me, then no matter how handsome I look when winning, it would be all pointless.

The roving lights in the bar dyed Xia Yan’s figure with a hint of unruliness. In this moment, this figure that I was unmatchably used to… seemed to be somewhat unfamiliar.

Xia Yan’s mouth hooked upwards.

Xia Yan: Just like that. Don’t look away.

MC: …

Xia Yan’s voice seemed to carry a strange magnetic force, sucking my gaze to his body with no way to look away. Only then did he smile and return his gaze to the dartboard.

Xia Yan: If you want to pay respects to the classics, then be more thorough.

Xia Yan: Back then, the positions of Brendan Dolan’s first round of darts were –

Xia Yan: D20, in the middle, leaning left. 

Xia Yan: T20, right.

Xia Yan: T20, left.

Three darts consecutively flew from Xia Yan’s hands.

Bam bam bam – the darts plunged stably into the positions he just mentioned. Cui Xu held back the taunting on his face. 

Cui Xu: … Kind of interesting.

Cui Xu: Looks like we can play a little high today.

With a flick of his right thumb, the darts were thrown high into the air. Right after, his left hand grabbed in the air, and the darts smoothly slid between his fingers, a cycle of points between his five fingertips.

MC: …!

Here it is – I held on my phone, silently opening the video screen. The second round started, and Cui Xu stood again behind the throwing line. He threw faster and more precisely with his left hand than with his right – the areas that the three darts successively fell stably into were – T20, T20, T20. Right after, the third round – T20, T20, Bullseye. After the three rounds, Xia Yan and his opponent had completely struck off 501 points. 

But we already got our evidence. 

MC: (Awesome! Next, we need to remind Uncle Chen to submit an appeal.)

Cui Xu: Now, don’t you need to find an excuse to leave and have the old man submit an appeal, beautiful lady?

Cui Xu fiddled with the darts in his hands, looked at us, seeming to smile, but also seeming to not smile.

Cui Xu: It must have been that old man who had you two search for evidence off of me.

Cui Xu: He really knows how to make trouble – even found two detectives.

Cui Xu: Did you two think that I would relax my guard just because today’s the last day of the appeal validity period? Haha. 

He took out his phone, waving it in front of Xia Yan’s and my faces – 0:10.

Cui Xu: 10 minutes past midnight. The time to appeal has already passed.

Cui Xu: Your dart throwing was pretty good, but I won.

Just as Cui Xu finished speaking, we heard Xia Yan laugh lightly.

Xia Yan: They didn’t set up a clock in the bar because they wanted to let guests forget about the meaning of time after coming in.

Xia Yan: So if you want to look at the time, you’d rely on your phone.

Xia Yan took out his own phone, tapping at it a few times. Cui Xu’s phone screen suddenly blacked out, and in two seconds, the numbers on it had changed from 0:10 to 23:30.

Xia Yan: But things like phones are way too easy to hack.

Xia Yan: The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind it.

Xia Yan: The people executing a ruse aren’t just you alone.

Cui Xu: You rascal!

Cui Xu’s complexion suddenly paled, and he rushed at Xia Yan.

Bang! Xia Yan raised his arm – I couldn’t see his movements at all, I just saw Cui Xu directly tumbling over in the space between us.

Cui Xu: Ahh!

PART 5

Street

After, Xia Yan immediately contacted Uncle Chen to have him submit an appeal online.

Xia Yan: Alright, smoothly resolved!

Xia Yan: Let’s head back. It’s nearly zero-o’clock, and the New Year’s Eve activities at Uncle Chen’s place –

When he mentioned Bar L, Xia Yan suddenly stopped.

MC: What’s up?

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan carefully looked at me a few times, his expression evasive – just like how he was at Bar L, when I asked him exactly if he had been at the bar on that rainy day. I couldn’t resist laughing.

MC: Are you afraid that I’ll ask you about… if you were at the bar that rainy day?

MC: Alright, I won’t ask anymore.

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan froze for a few seconds.

Xia Yan: Weren’t you really curious before…

MC: I’m still pretty curious now. But…

I looked towards Xia Yan and smiled.

MC: Everyone has matters that they don’t want to tell others.

MC: This is especially so after we grow up.

The closer people are, the harder it is to talk about certain matters, so a lot of people choose to go to bars to talk to strangers. Though in the past, Xia Yan and I were always so familiar that we were like a single person without any secrets between us, we’ve now grown up. After growing up, there will be boundaries. Forcing him to tell me his thoughts and forcing him to accept my help were also a sort of wrong. If I were to question him in the pestering way like when we were little, it would be a severely EQ-lacking action. 

MC: …

MC: I’m sorry. Earlier at Bar L, I even questioned you…

MC: I didn’t realize at that time…

Before, Xia Yan urged me to not join NXX, but after I made my determination known, he respected my decision. This time as well – he clearly would have been fine on his own, but he considered my thoughts and let me help out. Xia Yan has always considered me, and has always respected my decisions. I’m all too clear on this mindset of his. 

So, even if he had some things that he didn’t want to tell me, what’s the big deal? 

Though it was just like before – as long as I kept trying, Xia Yan would not reject me – the more it was like this, the more I had to have a sense of measure. Otherwise, I’d put him in a difficult position.

MC: In the future, for anything that isn’t easy for you to talk about, I –

Xia Yan: It’s not like that!

Xia Yan suddenly grabbed onto my hand, holding it with force, his hands grasping my knuckles. 

Xia Yan: There’s nothing that’s inconvenient for you to ask.

Xia Yan: Whether it’s the whiskey matter, or the rainy day matter – you can ask about anything you want to know about.

Xia Yan: None of my matters are inconvenient for you to ask about.

Xia Yan: There is no boundary between us.

MC: Xia Yan…

Suddenly, he seemed to have become aware that he was holding my hand with too much force, and hurriedly released it.

Xia Yan: Sorry, I held your hand with too much force… I probably hurt you.

Xia Yan looked at me, his gaze trembling slightly.

He went silent for several seconds, and finally, slowly opened his mouth.

Xia Yan: I…

Xia Yan: I just… was embarrassed to tell you…

Xia Yan: I didn’t want to let you know… that I once wanted to avoid you.

MC: Avoid me?

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: I was afraid that I would bring… trouble to you.

Xia Yan looked at me, his eyes full of guilt and unease.

MC: Was it because of the NXX issue? At that time, you had already started investigating related events yourself, right?

MC: Were you afraid that meeting me would get me involved in danger?

Xia Yan didn’t respond, like he was agreeing silently.

I tugged on Xia Yan’s arm, having him face me wholly. 

MC: What relation do we have between us?

MC: Even if there’s danger, I want to face it with you.

MC: If on some day in the future, you truly encounter a hard problem that I can’t accompany you in facing, then I’ll wait for you to return.

MC: Remember this well – everything about you isn’t trouble to me. It all has extraordinary significance!

Xia Yan: …

As we spoke, snowflakes like little diamonds fell down from the sky, one landing precisely on Xia Yan’s eyelash. His pupil seemed to flicker with a small light.

Xia Yan: Mm, I’ll remember it.

MC: You also have to remember that, compared to trouble, compared to danger, compared to anything else, what I fear more is that you… won’t be here.

MC: Where you are by yourself, if you’re living alright, if there are things upsetting you, if there are people who can share your burdens… I’ll be very worried…

MC: So you must promise me, from now and in the future, you can’t think about escaping from me again. 

I looked firmly at Xia Yan, putting on an imposing manner like if I didn’t hear a definite answer, I would swear to not give up. Xia Yan looked at me and laughed lightly.

Xia Yan: I swear, now and in the future, I will never think about escaping from you again.

Xia Yan: I will do all I can to always, always accompany you.

Xia Yan spoke unusually solemnly – even more solemnly than I had expected. His clear eyes reflected the fluttering snowflakes.

MC: …

MC: That’s right!

MC: In the future, even if you want to escape to the ends of the world, I’ll still drag you back!

Xia Yan: Yep, I have no doubts about that!

Bong bong bong –

The bell from the clock striking zero-o’clock sounded. Innumerable brightly-colored fireworks lit up the faraway night sky for a while.

MC: It’s zero-o’clock!

Xia Yan: I’m sorry – blame me for taking up time.

Looking somewhat upset, Xia Yan looked at the fireworks in the faraway night sky.

Xia Yan: What do you want to do now? There should still be some final New Year’s Eve activities going on at Uncle Chen’s place, although it’ll take some time for us to rush there.

Xia Yan: Or we could go to the center plaza to look at the fireworks show? It’ll be closer that way.

MC: Mm… forget it, I don’t want to go to either place now.

MC: I feel like it would be pretty nice if we passed New Year’s Eve here. 

Innumerable fireworks in the distance soared up, then fell down. Xia Yan’s and my spot definitely could not be considered a suitable viewing location, but I felt extremely happy. Compared to how you pass New Year’s Eve, what’s more important is who you spend New Year’s Eve with. At this moment, I really just wanted to stay like this with only Xia Yan for a little while longer.

MC: Xia Yan, how about we just slowly walk a bit back to Uncle Chen’s place?

Xia Yan: Sure. Here, give me your hand.  

Xia Yan held my hand in his, putting them together into his coat pocket. Just like it had been every winter, his palms have always been so warm – holding his hand was like holding a little sun. 

Xia Yan: Alright, Xia Yan-brand hand warmers have turned on!

Xia Yan: Now we can go.

MC: Wait a bit, Xia Yan.

I haven’t said my New Year’s blessings to Xia Yan yet.

> Happy New Year! May you be happy every day. > May everything go your way and you accomplish everything you set your heart to.

MC: Xia Yan! Happy New Year! For this new year, may you be happy every day!

Xia Yan: With your blessings, I’m sure that I’ll be happy every day for this year.

Xia Yan: You too – Happy New Year. May you be happy every day.

MC: With a Xia Yan-brand little sun, is it even possible for me to be unhappy?

Xia Yan: You’re absolutely correct! I’ll definitely ensure that you are completely happy every day!

> Happy New Year! May you be happy every day. > May everything go your way and you accomplish everything you set your heart to.

MC: Xia Yan! For this new year, may everything go your way and you accomplish everything you set your heart to!

Xia Yan: I’ve already accomplished what I’ve set my heart to. 

MC: Huh?

Xia Yan: You too - for this new year, may everything go your way and you accomplish everything you set your heart to.

PART 6

Bar L

Xia Yan and I returned to Bar L. Xia Yan said he had to do some cleanup on the video, so he had me wait a bit at the bar counter. Not long after, I heard the sound of familiar footsteps behind me.

MC: You were pretty… fast?

I angled my head around, seeing Xia Yan, now in full bartender attire.

MC: Xia Yan, this is?

Xia Yan: Several months ago, I disappointed a certain very important guest because of my error.

Xia Yan: So I made a request of Uncle Chen just now…

Xia Yan: To let me become that guest’s exclusive bartender tonight to properly make it up to her.

Xia Yan: Alright, young lady, what would you like to drink?

MC: For this, I’ll have to think carefully about it!

I pondered for a moment.

MC: I heard earlier from the owner of this place that you have a liquor that very much suits you.

MC: I’d also like to request this handsome bartender to prepare a cocktail that suits me best!

Xia Yan: It’s a task with some difficulty.

Xia Yan: But as your exclusive bartender, I will definitely satisfy you.

Xia Yan: Please wait a moment.

Xia Yan placed a cocktail glass in front of me, then took a bottle of wine from the wine shelf. 

Xia Yan: First, pour the chocolate liqueur into the wineglass.

Xia Yan: Then, gently float a layer of fresh cream on top of the liqueur.

Following the back of the spoon, the fresh cream slowly infused itself in the glass’s contents. Right after, Xia Yan stuck a cocktail pin through a dark red cherry, stacking it on the glass rim.

Xia Yan: Angel’s Kiss – please try it.

MC: What a romantic name – why is it called that? Is it because the cherry is like a pair of lips?

Xia Yan: There’s another important reason.

Xia Yan: Young lady, please take the cocktail pin and soak the cherry into the liqueur, then gently take it out.

Complying with his words, I dipped the cherry into the liqueur, then took it out. The cocktail stirred up, and the fresh cream floated into swirls, like a small pair of lips.

Xia Yan: This is the Angel’s Kiss.

Xia Yan: It’s said that after drinking it, an angel will transfer your thoughts to the person you care about.

Xia Yan: I feel like this is the cocktail that suits you best.

Xia Yan’s voice became unusually gentle. 

MC: …

--

After finishing his work, Xia Yan went into the bar’s inside room to change clothes. Completely concealed behind the door, Uncle Chen faced the girl waiting at beside the bar counter.

Uncle Chen: Angel’s Kiss – just like Cupid’s arrow, shot into the hearts of lovers.

Uncle Chen looked at Xia Yan, smiling meaningfully. 

Uncle Chen: On an important day, if you drink a glass of Angel’s Kiss, the god of love will definitely transmit your feelings to the person you yearn for day and night.

Uncle Chen: It really is a drink that’s extremely well suited for her.

Xia Yan: …

Uncle Chen: I’ve been thinking all day about the conditions that she came in for the first time, at the beginning of the year. 

--

[Flashback]

The beginning of the year…

The noisy sounds of rain were shut outside by the heavy oak door. When guests pushed open the door to come in, the clamminess of water vapor blew in.

Uncle Chen: There are quite a lot of guests on rainy days. You’ve really worked hard.

Xia Yan: You’re looking at this as an outsider – I don’t feel like I’ve worked hard at all.

As they spoke, the oak door was opened again.

Xia Yan: There’s another guest coming –

Xia Yan: …!

It was [MC]. Even if they were separated by a room full of guests, even if it was just a back view, he could still recognize that figure easily.

Uncle Chen: What’s wrong, Little Xia? Do you know that girl?

Xia Yan’s mouth lightly trembled, out of his control.

Xia Yan: I’m sorry, Uncle Chen…

Xia Yan: Can I trouble you to serve this guest…

Xia Yan hastily left the bar counter.

Uncle Chen: …

Uncle Chen looked deeply at the girl by the door. She had just closed the door and was turning around, walking to the bar counter.

After closing that day, Xia Yan carried out closing tasks in behind the bar counter. After everything was properly tidied up, he slowly sat down behind the bar counter, looking at that empty seat in front of him.

Xia Yan: …

Hearing footsteps behind him, Xia Yan swiftly stood up.

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen, I’ve completely tidied up this area. If there’s nothing else, then I’ll leave first. 

Uncle Chen: Wait a bit, Little Xia.

Uncle Chen called out to Xia Yan and held up the whiskey in his hand.

Uncle Chen: If you don’t have anything to deal with for the next while, how about accompanying me in drinking a glass?

Uncle Chen: I’d like to invite you to help me try this bottle of alcohol.

Uncle Chen poured the whiskey into two glasses, then handed a glass to Xia Yan. Xia Yan took a light sip.

Xia Yan: The taste is very good, and the texture is extremely gentle.  

After hearing this, Uncle Chen smiled.

Uncle Chen: Every time I drink it, I’ll think about the taste that this batch of whiskey had right after brewing.

Uncle Chen: It was completely different from now. Its texture was very spicy, its aroma was average – it could be considered a complete failure.

Uncle Chen: I didn’t think that after some time, the taste would become good. 

Uncle Chen: So, if a matter hasn’t reached an end, one cannot give up, because the possibility of unexpected opportunities will always exist.

Xia Yan: …

Uncle Chen gave a wooden box to Xia Yan.

Uncle Chen: Wine and life are both like this.

[Flashback end]

--

Uncle Chen faced the girl at the bar counter, then turned his gaze back to Xia Yan.

Uncle Chen: There’s actually another saying about whiskey.

Xia Yan: You really have a lot of sayings for your alcohol.

Uncle Chen: Even if it’s the same kind of wine, it will have different meanings to different guests.

Uncle Chen: Someone who can deliver drinks to guests that are most suited for them is qualified to be a bartender.

Xia Yan: Then what do you want to say this time?

Uncle Chen: Hemingway once said: “There are two matters that you must absolutely not hesitate about. You must do them immediately.”

Uncle Chen: “Kiss a beautiful girl, or open a bottle of whiskey.”

Xia Yan: … Thank you.

Xia Yan tilted his head towards the person who was waiting for him at the bar counter. She was freely looking over the various kinds of alcohol behind the counter with interest.

Xia Yan: I need to wait a bit longer to open that whiskey bottle.

Xia Yan: I’ll wait until there are no impurities at all. I’ll wait until the day when I truly have no secrets from her. 

Xia Yan: At that time, I will open it without hesitation. 

-END-

[pandapupremade]

Danger (Part 1)

WORDS: 1,304

WARNINGS: Mentions of explosions/evil plans basically

in case u wanted to know context of the Sympathy fic I did yesterday, I’m writing a prequel tihngy. this is part 1 and doesn’t feature much Self shipping (though it references my ship with Quackerjack and @sphearts‘ insert Patch), but pls know the next parts will. reblogs also appreciated!!! I had a lot of fun w this ;w;

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      The Fearsome Five were once more up to something very dastardly. When weren't they? But it seemed today that in that warehouse just off town, not all members of the group were feeling so dastardly. A nervous Bushroot tapped his leafy hands together as he looked over the crate in front of him, one that wires were extending from.

     "Are we sure this is such a good idea? I -I m-mean...There's - there's just - there's innocents down there, you kn-know?" He shook his purple-foliaged head and frowned. "Oh, I c-couldn't bear to destroy the poor things...N-not so gruesomely..."

      Bushroot's concerns fell on deaf ears, of course, and in fact his words were met with a laugh from Quackerjack, who was dangling upside down from the rafters for whatever goofy reason. "Since when do YOU care about the civilians, bush brain?"

     "W-who said anything about people?" The scientist almost seemed offended, "You know I'm talking about the plants! The - the - the trees! The f-flowers! They're all blooming at this time, I couldn't stand it if they..."

      "Are you having second thoughts?" Came the voice of Liquidator, poking up from a puddle on the floor, "Tired of destroying your family trees? Not to worry, the Liquidator will set things right! Lots of water for lots of plants, right?"

     "Uh, I-I guess..." Bushroot nodded, but still seemed tense. "A-anyway, Quackerjack - don't think you're one to - to talk. You're the one with a f-family at home. Shouldn't you be worried about them? What if they get caught in the explosion - bet you'd be pretty bummed then...!"

     "Please, they know to stay out of any destruction zone!" replied the jester with another laugh, "Well, except Patch - but who knows where they go....Maybe your plants oughta do the same...You know...Make like a banana and split! Hohohohoooo~!" As he said banana, he pulled out Mr. Banana Brain, because of course he did.

     "Just better hope they don't get in the way again," Megavolt sneered. "They're always so unpredictable...But then again, so are you."

     "Hohohooo!"

    "Which one of you idiots is making Quackerjack a fool of himself again?" growled a new voice, and one that shot chills down each Fearsome member's spine. Negaduck had finally arrived. "Or is it just Quackerjack being a fool all on his own? Either way, his laughter is getting on my nerves."

    "Oh, goody!" Quackerjack grinned from above. "Boss is back! Great to see you, Negaduck! Buddy, ol' pal!"

      "Yeah, yeah, roll out the red carpet." Negaduck waved his hand with disinterest. "Is everything in place, boys? 'Cause if it's not..."

     "The Liquidator has a 100% satisfactory guarantee! Indeed, you, Negaduck, will be pleased - or your money back!" The watery dog seemed a bit too cheery considering all this talk of explosions...

     Negaduck shook his head. "I'll hold you to that, you walking infomercial..."      But at this, Megavolt spoke up, "But Boss, you didn't give us any money, so we can't exactly give it back..."

    "Well,  your life can repay any debt, don't you think?" He tapped his foot on the ground. "I mean, really, that's what you're gonna give me anyway if you losers screw this up."

     "That's our Negaduck! Always so forgiving..." Seems like even the concept of dying a bloody death as punishment for failing sounded like a fun time to Quackerjack. "Anyway, boss..." He dropped down from the ceiling and landed directly in front of Negaduck now, "I've got a question for you, if you've got the time..."

      "I don't have the time." Negaduck tried to walk past the insolent clown, but Quackerjack quite literally bounced back to front and center.

     "It'll only take a second! See, Bushroot and I were just having a civil little conversation -"

     "Nothing civil about it," huffed Bushroot in the background.

      "9 out of 10 reviews give that conversation a thumbs down," added Liquidator.

      Quackerjack snorted. "Anyway, it got me wondering if YOU have any ties that could be -"

      And then, his beak was grabbed quite cartoonishly to shut him up. Negaduck was obviously unamused. "No, Quackerjack. Unlike you, I don't need a family to keep me stable."

     "Yeah, you only need a chainsaw," chuckled Megavolt.

     "Bingo. And frankly, I don't even need that. Any weapon will do, yeah?" Negaduck let go of Quackerjack now, but walked past while purposely stepping on the guy's foot. (Though this backfired, because there was a honking sound effect and that just annoyed the boss more.) "If that's all you nubs needed, then let's start the operation."

     "Aye-aye, sir!" came the chant of his cohorts. Negaduck would walk towards the earlier mentioned crate, which with the little help of a button on a remote he had, opened to reveal a computer inside. On the screen was a map of St. Canard in neon green color, and Negaduck began to type in some coordinates from a sheet of paper - one that he'd somehow taken from Megavolt when the rodent wasn't looking.

     "And...we...are...good...to....Eh?" His finger paused over the last number, "No, wait a minute, that ain't right..." He back spaced and tried again. Still no.

    "Somethin' wrong, boss?" asked Megavolt.

    "The coordinates I'm inputting on this detonator...They're nowhere near the correct ones." He glared at Megavolt. "Where did you set up the bombs?"

    "On the south side of -"

   At this, Negaduck's eyes narrowed. "The SOUTH side? You LOSER, you can't even follow orders right...I said the NORTH would be destroyed..."

     Megavolt stared, and became increasingly panicked. "W-wh-wha? W-well, it shouldn't be too big a difference! A-after all, it's still just a threat, r-right? Not like we won't get our point acro-"

    "That's not the point, you dolt! There's some stupid art convention going on in the South Side of town, and I wanted to specifically avoid that area!"

   Silence.

   "Uh....Why-" began Bushroot, but he quickly retracted his inquiry as Negaduck shot a nasty look at him. "Th-that is....We can just set the bombs up elsewhere, right?"

   "Yeah, and it's gonna take all day! Forget it, this plan was a failure...And it's not my fault, I'd like to say..." Negaduck crossed his arms. "Quackerjack and Megavolt can be in charge of defusing all the bombs."

    "Hmm...Is it really such a big deal?" Quackerjack smiled in a way that sorta said he was about to cause trouble, "It's just strange you'd care so much about a little setback that you'd cancel your whole plan...Not even a Plan B...."

   "Y-yeah, that's  - that's right!" chimed in Bushroot. "We should just go ahead with it, already!"

   "Act now, and the Liquidator can wash away YOUR worries, with a bang!" 

   "It will SURELY shock you!" beamed Megavolt.

   "Will you all be quiet?! I'm sick of your puns!" Negaduck snapped, "You're all so...useless!" Well, this was getting nowhere fast. Soon, in a comedic fashion, the Fearsome Five became the Fumbling Five - everyone started arguing, and in the midst of it...Somehow, probably when nobody was paying attention, that last digit got put into the detonator.

    "Forget this," Negaduck growled, "I'll just have to..." And then he noticed the timer. "W- No! Oh, for the love of -" Everyone watched as he rushed to the computer and began trying to stop the detonator. "UGH! YOU IDIOTS!"

    The others looked at each other. Then at Negaduck. Then at each other. And as they ran away so as not to meet his wrath, Liquidator shouted out another quote of "Act now, the offer ends soon!"

   "Oh, more than that is gonna end...." But there was no time to worry about that with the clock ticking. He gripped his hat in a stressed manner, yanking on it to try and calm his nerves. But he couldn't stop the detonator - he'd specifically planned that so that Darkwing couldn't screw things up...What irony!

    But why did he care about that art convention? Well, as he rushed off to try and find a certain someone,  he wondered that himself.

[goshwrites]

business (yandere x reader) 1

warnings: swearing, ageplaying, obsession, unhealthy relationships

word count: 2.9 

A/N: still not completely my best writing oof but here we go

taglist: (none as of yet since i’m keeping the taglist for the ben solo blurb separate from this one)

  You know how like in some novels things happen right away one after another? Like the very next day or something?  Well that didn't happen with you.  The day after the whole fiasco with Romeo and Juliette... things were pretty chill. Boss of course seemed just a little agitated, but that was normal in your opinion since well... she always had a resting bitch face. Always. And then it was two days after it.  Still nothing. You somehow got hit in the head with a paper ball that was thrown so badly it flew over the small wall that separated the cubicles instead of the trashcan. Yeah. That person's aim was horrible, but eh. They offered you chocolate once so you were cool.  Three days after everything still was kind of cool. Someone's phone kept buzzing the Backstreet Boy's song I Want It That Way and of course any reasonable person would sing along with it which of course was you.  Then four- well that was Saturday. And that was your glorious dayoff of going to the store and getting facial masks.  And fifth was Sunday and with that you mostly chilled while working on editing your paper.  Six was... Monday to say the least.  No comment.  And then what do you know? A whole week went by the incident and it seemed that no one even remembered or cared or just... were even awake to see it.    Tuesday started out kind of nice. You didn't do that annoying thing of where you wake up like ten minutes before your alarm and then you try to go back to sleep because hey it's way too early but then you can't because anxiety and you spent like seven minutes inwardly arguing with your anxiety and before you know it- it's time to get up.  But that didn't happen. That happened on Monday, yes, but Tuesday? Nah you woke up to the beautiful bliss of birds using their vocal cords and like some violins playing in the background. Over all it was nice.  And you got a cheese bagel at your nearby bagel shop because they're everywhere.    You greeted the security man that stood by the door with a 'good morning' on your way into the large building that also housed other companies like some kind of shoe company and like maybe one of Jojo's bowties? You really didn't know and didn't really wanna know. You walked out of the elevator of the floor you were on and proceeded to make your way to your cubicle. You sat down with the rolling chair moving backwards a tad before you reached out and got out your laptop from the beach bag. You were just typing in the password and going to your documents when you heard a soft, "Good morning," from your left and you look over to the opening to see Ben standing there. A small grin came onto your face at seeing the dark skinned male.  "It is this time." You mused while thinking back on your grumpy mood yesterday. He chuckled while flashing that pearly white grin of his.  "And am I not glad for that?"  "Oh shut up." You said playfully towards the male as you brought up your latest project on your computer.  He just chuckled and shook his head as if he just knew that you wouldn't pull through on your threat. And well he was right.  "Uh huh. Anyways since you're in a better mood, I was thinking we could like go out for lunch?" He suggested with a shrug as you looked back up at him. He always liked to wear bright colors since he could always pull them off so well, so today he was wearing a neon yellow t-shirt and washed-out jeans. You weren't really wearing anything special. Just blue jeans, (f/c) shirt, and some converse so eh. Nothing special or extraordinary. Just the way you liked it.  But somehow Ben always looked nice in everything he wore.  You decided to just shove your writing abilities to the back of your mind as you pretended to think about it.  "Hmmmm. I don't know. I don't really know if I like you or not." You said while stroking your chin as if there was a beard there. He chuckled and shook his head.  "Awww. Come on, (N/n). I know you do and you know you love me." He practically whined to you with a childish pout making you giggle.  "Of course I love you. You're one of the few people that are tolerable here." You told him with a grin and a shake of my head.  'You know you love me' was that one inside joke between the two of you. Whenever one just wasn't budging on something for whatever reason the other would always play that card. And usually it worked.  He was probably about to say something about being offended by that statement, but your little bicker was irrupted.  "(L/n)! My office!" You heard your last name being called out causing you to sit up right in your chair. And there standing at her office was Boss. Now Boss... was an interesting woman. One, she was born and raised in Liberia until her family moved here causing her to have a very strong accent. Two, she was very... well... blunt. She was like the Simon Cowell or Gordon Ramsey of writing. And three, even though her natural hair was black, she had dyed it a sort of burgundy red that stuck out like on a traffic light.  But you've never been called to her office before. Not unless it was for another project. But... you were working on a project. So why did she call you?    You forced yourself to rise from the rolling chair before you took in a deep breath. Just... don't jump around conclusions. You and Ben shared a look of mutual look of worry and confusion before you forced yourself to walk out and into the hallway. Others had already stopped typing to give you the look of 'uh oh' as you walked. Honestly you felt like you were going to your own funeral at these somber looks. But alas you reached the glass down of Boss's office. It was that type of office from Superman of where the walls were glass. You had to admit, you liked it.  But at the moment you kinda wished the walls were concrete so no one could see you get fired. Wait.  Fired? Now that started the anxiety ball rolling.  But before you could turn away and maybe act like you were too sick to come to her office, she saw you and simply waved you in. Those glass walls. Traitors.   You took in a deep breath and entered into the carpeted office room. Besides being all fancy with her name on the door in a sort of Instagram font, Boss had a reddish, dark brown wooden desk with four small drawers on each side at the top, and two large drawers at the bottom. The desk was definitely an expensive one since the handles for the drawers had designs on them. Overall Boss just causally flexed with the desk.  And the carpet was like really comfy too as you shifted on it sort of nervously. Boss just looked at you before she picked up a Rubik Cube and just twirled it in her hand. She looked down at the multiple colors as she mixed the cube up.  And finally easing the growing of your anxiety- she spoke.  "Sit down, (L/n)." Obediently you sat down in the brown, leather chair that actually fit very well with the desk. She waited a few moments as if she was waiting to see if you were comfortable before she spoke again. "Do you remember what happened last week?" What? What happened? What week? Last week?  What happened last week?  You had no fucking idea.  But were you gonna admit that? Hell no.  "Yes, I do." You told her with a nod to make it seem like you weren't an idiot.  "Well, today... I got the phone call from Stevie saying that she and Issac have gone back to his home town to get married."  Wait... who? Then... ohhh yeeaaaah.  Last week... those two. Right.  "Wow. They didn't waste any time, huh?" You said while acting like you had an excellent memory of all things at all time. Yup.  No dummy here.  But that kinda brought up a question... why was she telling you this?  "No, they did not." She said with a shake of her head before she leaned forward in her seat. "But.. I'm sure you're wondering why I am telling you this." You nodded at her words and she took this as a cue to continue. "Well... I assigned Stevie to an assignment that I thought that she was ready for, but now that she's getting married... well... I will need someone else for it."  Huh. Why was she telling you this?  Then... wait... oh. Oh.  "You... want me for the assignment?" You asked as you couldn't hide the surprise that leaked into your voice.  Huh. So obviously you weren't the first choice, but at least you were the second. Better than none, right?  "If you will take it." Boss responded with a shrug as she looked down at the Rubik Cube while simultaneously solving it and speaking. Woah.  "Well I mean uh- I would love too, Boss. But..." You briefly trailed off as you shifted in the leather seat.  "Just what is the assignment?"  "It's actually an interview." An interview? Now... that is something you did not have that much experience on. Who would you be interviewing? Harry Styles?  Oh now that would be great. (But sadly this isn't a 1D fanfic) "Well uh... I don't really have that much experience with like journalism and like interviews." You awkwardly confessed as you scratched your head. "But... who is it?"  Boss paused as she stopped almost... completing the Rubik Cube. What. How did she that so fast? But your confessed and amazed eyes moved back up to Boss whenever she answered your question with, "Edward Gimmens." Then... wait.  Edward Gimmens… as in... that really rich guy?  That Edward Gimmens? You just stared at your Boss in amazement as she finished the Rubik Cube. But you weren't amazed by her skill- okay yes you were actually- but more with the fact as... "How... did you get an interview slot with him?"  As far as you knew the philanthropist, billionaire, and whatever he had on his resume didn't do interviews for magazines that centered around Millenniums and Gen-Zs. He did it for those really big and out there magazines, you know?  "Well, believe it or not, he came to us. But that is not important. You'll have to come up with your questions and such, but you can use Stevie's notes." She said as she set the cube down and pulled out a folder out from her desk.  You blinked a few times at her rapid explanation as just.. woah. "But of course that's if you are taking the job."  That... was the million dollar question, wasn't it? Or the billion in this case. Ha, ha, ha.  "I... well... I... what makes you think I can do this?" You found the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them. Uh- uh- uh- "Of course I am grateful you offered it to me, but umm... why?" You quickly added as to not seem rude.  "Well... Stevie was my first choice since she's done work like this before." Boss began with a shrug as she leaned back against the chair. "But when she had to go... well... you just popped into my head as the next capable person to do this."  You? Capable? You still got anxiety with ordering your own meal. "You... think I can do this?" You asked hesitantly and in an unsure way as your (e/c) eyes met Boss's. She smiled just a tad before she leaned forward.  "(L/n)… I see potential in you. You're a good writer and you know how to set a pace right in whatever you write. You're just... how do I put this? Not confident in your abilities. So... I'm giving you the old... shove-you-out-of-the-airplane thing."  That... did not sound ideal. Not at all. But still you slowly nodded your head.  "All right. Thanks, Boss, I'm honored you think so highly of me, but umm... can I have some time to think about it?"  "Ah yes. Of course, of course. Take as much time as you need." She said while waving her hand in the air and with her accent sort of slurring her words together making the 'course' sound like 'close.'  "But just not too much time. This does need to be written, you know."  You nodded before you stood up from the comfy chair.  "I'll... let you know by Friday." You decided on that day while your anxiety told you in one ear that you won't be able to decide by then and your self worth was whispering how she would find someone else in that time period. Fun times.  "That is good, (L/n). I'll be awaiting for your answer." She said with a nod as she stood up as well. You couldn't help, but slightly smile at the way she worded things. "And ah! Just in case you do decide to take the job, here is the notes Stevie had." She said while picking up the folder she had brought onto her desk previously. She handed it to you and you took it from her dark and freckled hands.  "Just read it over and see what you think."  "I will Boss. Thanks." 

  With one final goodbye and wave to Boss, you exited out of the office and back down the hall to your cubicle.

So... you weren't getting fired? You actually kind of got promoted in a way? I mean, if you did this interview right... others would be put on your desk. 

But this was Edward Gimmens, the CEO of Gimmens Incorporated. This was a man who's spent nearly three decades in making his name known in whatever way.

He was a well known and looked up to man in whatever he did. Whether it be taking mankind steps closer to having flying cars or what he was most known for, and you found it a little humorous, cosmetics. 

Yes that's right.

The philanthropist, inventor, and very rich guy was famous for his makeup. Somehow he had figured out a way to have any foundation or concealer or blush fit exactly to your skin tone. Instead of having to make a formula for each different skin tone, he was somehow able to make one for all. Needless to say, the product instantly became a favorite around the world. Even you had tried it once, and contrary to what you expected, it somehow blended perfectly. 

He was like the Willy Wonka of makeup. And you were suppose to interview him. 

  You sat back down on your rolling chair with a huff. But should you take it? It was a great- like really great- opportunity for you and the magazine. Of course Boss can always get somebody else, but still. 

It was great and big and perfect, but... also stressing. You were going to have to come up with questions... but Stevie did leave behind notes for you. And thinking of the notes- you had the folder. 

You set it on your desk before you opened it up to see the Instagram font that was Stevie's handwriting. 

Man. You'd probably kill someone for being able to write that elegantly.

You read over what she had so far in her notes and you had to admit that she had some pretty good ideas of what she wants to ask. You bit your lip and decided to close the folder for now. 

Hmm. Maybe... just maybe, this won't be so bad.

But of course- you needed another person's opinion on this. 

"Hey, Ben?" You decided to speak up over the clicking keyboards to your cubicle mate. 

"Yeah?" Came his one worded reply.

"I would love to go to lunch with you."

And even though you couldn't see it, you knew he was smiling.

[cruezins]

       ☣  ;  (  KIM TAEHYUNG  ,  24  ,  HE/HIM  )  coming up next on rebel radio is OPAUL by FREDDIE DREDD  .  this tune goes out to SIWON RYU  .  rumor has it they just rolled into town and are fightin’ for the GHOULS  .  they’re AFFABLE  ,  INQUISITIVE but also AIMLESS  ,  MERCURIAL so watch your backs out there  .  we wish them the best of luck here in our golded city of light  .  stay vigilant  ,  stay dirty rock ‘n rollers and we’ll catch you for the next one  .

𝐎𝐎𝐂  :  hello  !  i’m deni and i don’t know what editing is  .  i use she/her pronouns and live in the gmt+9 timezone  .   i’m terrible with ooc chats and half the time just want to vibe a connection or plot idea  ,  so please don’t hesitate to throw a half-formed thought at me because i swear i’ll do the same  .  my discord is gay fairy#6371  .  anyway  ,  here is siwon  ,  someone i’ve been work-shopping for a while  !  looking forward to writing with you  ♡

                     ☣  ;  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇  .

cw  :  drug mentions  ;  stop me if you’ve heard this one before------

       his dad’s a junkie and he hasn’t seen his mom since some fatcats bought their restaurant for a steal a few years before  ,  but that’s the way of life for a lot of people in the underground  .  young  ,  bored  ,  and desperate to hear and smell anything that wasn’t the rottenness of his own childhood home  ,  siwon found himself on the streets more nights than not  ,  spray paint in one hand   ,  painting nights in greens and purples until reds and blues chased him away  .  makes his first steal before he can tie his shoes  .  creates alliances with the neighborhood kids  ,  sneaks around to watch how the haves live with their pretty  ,  pretty screens and their ugly  ,  ugly words  .  school isn’t anything special  ,  either  ,  and while siwon can’t remember shit that he reads from a page he can work with his hands  .  fast and efficient  ,  nimble fingers whether they’re flying across a keyboard or fucking around with some screws  .  you can make something of yourself  ,  some of his teachers tell him while others can’t stop bitching about homework or tardiness or the way he falls asleep in the middle of class  .  but what’s siwon supposed to make  ?  he and his ragtag group of weirdos he calls friends  .  when he gets older and nights get hungrier  ,  siwon learns to stop relying on the benevolence of neighbors and finds a job  ---  he’s fast  ,  after all  ,  with a sweet face and wide eyes  ,  makes a helluva getaway after years and years of running  .  

       thieving’s a natural grift  .  he’d been training for this his whole life  .  then he catches the eyes of a boss man who isn’t nearly as mad as he should be catching some kid with his wallet in his hands  .  courier comes next  ,  ferrying messages from a bunch of suits all over the city  .  siwon never opened the packages  ,  never second guesses the credits that start bloating his account  .  desperate  ,  he does what he’s told and does it well ------ and that’s the real kicker  ,  isn’t it  ?  that after a year and some-odd months of dedicated service they leave him high and dry with some bullshit he doesn’t have any involvement with  .  after years of running  ,  boys in blue finally catch him and he’s left to take the fall of some dumb fuckery  ,  man  ,  and he’s pissed  .  steaming in jail  ,  it’s a wonder some other gang didn’t get to him first  .  the longer he sat and talked with that ghoul member  ,  the more he grew to despise the rich  ,  the ones who left him to rot after all the shit he did for them  .  what was even the point anymore  ?  dog eat dog kind of bullshit  ,  no sense of loyalty or shit anywhere  .  the law and all that money was out to get him from the beginning and siwon had enough of it  .  a few months locked up but he learned and leaned and learned  ,  only able to get out on a technicality  .  the second he stepped back out into the sun  ,  siwon followed the map given to him and signed up for the ghouls  .  city of light be damned  .  the only lights he wants to see are flames eating this hellhole alive  .

                    ☣  ;  𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  .

➤  full name.  ryu si-won ➤  date of birth.  january 29th ➤  hometown.  city of light ➤  gender.  cis male ➤  affiliation.  ghouls  ➤  primary occupation.  drug runner  ,  pickpocket  ➤  secondary occupation.  network manager at an internet cafe 

➤  sexual attraction.  pansexual ➤  romantic attraction.  panromantic ➤  character alignment.  chaotic neutral ➤  personality type.  enfp ➤  temperament.  sanguine ➤  wants.  power  ,  family

       stands around 5′11  .  broad shoulders  ,  slim hips  .  floppy  ,  messy hair and sun browned skin  .  half legs  .  a few pieces of silver in his ears and a small hoop on his bottom lip  .  dresses somewhere between a washed up rockstar  ,  your college weed dealer  ,  and a miami vice reject  .  style’s a whim with a closet’s chaotic mix of anything he thrifts or patches together  .  most of the time he’s sporting cuffed jeans  ,  vintage blouse  ,  a denim jacket or tweed blazer and thick ass boots  .  keeps all that hair back with a bandanna or a headband  ,  hair ties on his wrist  .  nothing in his closet’s technically new and he loves looking for a bargain steal —— or simply just a steal  .  likes colors just as much as he likes his neutrals  .  wears a black air filtration mask and fingerless gloves  .  considers his floral button-up shirts fancy material and his trousers cut off at the ankles  .  likes the smell of old leather and the breathing of fringe on a jacket  ,  the weight of heavy rings on his fingers and sunglasses swooped low on his nose  .  wears a monocle because he can’t be fucked with reading glasses  .   his hair’s been every color of the rainbow and he’s always changing it up thanks to temporary dye  .

                                    ☣  ;  𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄  .

       hustles at arcade halls  ,  scarfs down ramen and burritos like they’re gonna disappear  ,  looks as comfortable in a dark  ,  dirty alley as he does standing under all those lights in the neon district  .  pockets full of candy and a lollipop between his lips  .  likes cheap beer and cigarettes  ,  fast talking and smooth smiles  .  gets up when the sun goes down  .  who knows if he ever gets a full night’s sleep  ,  but you can find him taking a nap just about anywhere  .  seems to live for the dark hours and stays busy as a bee  ,  at the internet cafe one moment and grabbing fried cheese sticks in the next before crossing the bridge to watch the street races and venturing to the tunnels for the fighting rings  .  complains about being broke but puts down bets faster than anyone  .  lives for the feeling of wind in his hair so the window of his top-floor one bedroom shit hole stays open all the time  .  feels the rain on his skin  ,  plays with matches  .   learned how to assemble a gun in less than sixty seconds and stays packing nowadays though he can’t really shoot for shit  .  spray paints boobs on the sides of government buildings and dicks on malls  .  looks like an angel under all those holographic lights  .

       rides a motorbike and his skateboard  .  can do crazy math in his head and spot fake bills with incredible accuracy  .  can barely stand to sit still  ,  always moving except when there’s a computer screen in front of him  .  gets addicted to things so easily it’s scary  ---  people  ,  food  ,  liquor  ,  feelings  .  craves that intimacy  ,  craves that closeness that’s always been denied to him  .  has a loud as fuck laugh and a love for sneaking into places where he doesn’t belong  .  catches extra cash on the side by fixing up broken-down machines and can figure his way around a motor with a bit of elbow grease  .  still sees his family  .  not as much as a good son would  ,  but he sends cash when he can and looks after his younger sister  ,  makes sure she stays well and clean  .  they don’t know half of what he’s gotten up to since he was let out of prison  ,  but they might have some idea --- after all  ,  who’d pay a crooked boy with a record as well as he seems to be  ?  when the sun starts to come up and he crashes into bed  ,  siwon stares out the window and thinks about how in another world  ,  or in another time he probably could’ve been something  .  could’ve made something great  .  but for now he’s just got a whole lot of anger  ,  raw like a fresh wound he can’t stop picking at  .  

                           ☣  ;  𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔  ?

➤  bonds.  my loyalty to my friends is unwavering  ;   i owe everything to my mentor --- a horrible person who’s rotting in jail somewhere  ;  i fleeced the wrong person and must work to ensure this individual never crosses paths with me  . ➤  flaws.  once i pick a goal  ,  i become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life  ;  when I see something valuable  ,  i can't think about anything but how to steal it  ;  i have a weakness for the vices of the city  . 

       he’s friendly  ,  but he doesn’t make friends easily --- the ones that he has made  ,  he’d do anything for  .  because that’s how he’s gotten this far  ,  right  ?  all those people who looked after him when others tried to stomp him out  .  he’s still close with his teen friends who threw a few grifts with him  ,  gaming buddies that he knows only through a screen  .  little escapes from all the other bullshit going on in the world  .  even though he isn’t a club guy  ,  he runs into more than a few faces on his rounds  .  maybe they’re bad influences or sweethearts who help that touch starved affliction that comes from living in a city so wired  .  on the flip side  ,  there’s some enemies --- competitors in the runner world  ,  antagonists he meets at the races or rings for whatever reason  (  insane bets make tempers run hot  ,  who knows when they’ll flare for good and siwon’s learning the hard way how to keep his mouth shut  )  .  he’s fixed up a few cars or weapons for people recently because he misses working with his hands  .  y’know  ,  making nice  .  then there’s people he’s caught in a crossfire with  ,  where they’ve met something nasty one too many times before over turf  ,  territory and clients  .  a newer face to the ghouls  ,  he’s bugged someone into mentoring him  ,  and gone on a few runs with someone he loves to call a coworker  .  

       eager to prove himself as more than a green kid with a keyboard and an eye for detail  ,  find him cutting deals and making trades in smokey barbecue houses  ,  hole-in-the wall ramen shops or by taco tents  .  a full bellied class of clients are happy clients in his opinion  ,  and siwon isn’t above not making deals with the other groups who’s names aren’t violent delights  .  speaking of which  ---  there are definitely some skeletons there he aims to confront  ,  some old demons to fight from that class of people that fucked him over  .  there’s an ex lover in there somewhere  ,  probably met in that pre-prison childhood phase when he mingled past class lines more  ( ~1.5-2 years ago )  .  someone he’s healthily fearful of for whatever reason  ,  and maybe a vendetta against the family that scammed his parents out of their business and basically sent his life spiraling  .  there’s someone who isn’t what they seem  --- he doesn’t know who they really are  ,  and maybe they don’t know who he is  ,  either  .  they’ll learn eventually  .  someone he’s protective over  ,  someone who protects him in ways he doesn’t even know  ,  and those he looks after because they grew up on the same side  .  desperate for connection  ,  desperate for a place  ,  he finds it all in heaven and hell  .

[kianraidelcam]

IT’S HERE. Day 6: “Panicking” for @whumptopia‘s RoboWhump 30 Day Challenge! I originally posted a preview of it which kind of didn’t happen...oops. This idea ran away from me. Full explanation for that in the link! Tomorrow’s prompt is “Temperature Regulator Damage” and I am researching how computers react to the cold. Full fic under the cut for those who prefer it! Reblogs are love!

Connor would later describe it as feeling as if he lost all control.

Red blood. Blue blood. Spilling over, combining into a macabre purple. Playing over and over again in front of his eyes. His fault, his fault, it was all his fault. Breath quickening, eyes searching for a danger that wasn’t there, systems scanning even though he didn’t tell them too. His thirium pump pounding in his chest, elevated past what was considered optimal. It hurt, why did his chest hurt, there was nothing wrong but everything felt wrong. He almost ruined everything and they know, they know it is all his fault and they’re coming.

{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}

{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}

That couldn’t be right. He had what Hank called a gut feeling. He was in danger, danger, danger.

{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}

{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^80%}

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

Connor grips his hair, pulling on the synthetic strands, while his chest heaves for air he doesn’t need ( air air where was the air ). A tingling sensation begins to fill his limbs, starting with his fingers before filling his hands, before weighing down his limbs with a static lead. Sumo, he needed Sumo. Hank’s dog always lowered his stress levels and if he could just get the warnings appearing bright red in his visual field to stop, he could find the danger, he could see the danger.

“Sumo,” he rasps into the empty living room, distantly aware that his voice echoes with a mechanical reverb brought upon by his systems working overtime, “Sumo, come.”

He waits for the clacking of nails on the hardwood floor, for the heavy panting from the Saint Bernard to announce his presence. Nothing comes. The only sound that echoes through the empty home is his labored breathing, his fans kicking into overdrive. Connor’s legs give out and he tumbles to the floor in front of the couch.

{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}

{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}

{REVIEW MESSAGE FROM LT. HANK ANDERSON: FRIEND}

{Taking Sumo to the vet. Try not to burn down the house or shoot anything while we’re gone.}

That’s right. Sumo had an appointment at the veterinary clinic today. But that had been at 11:30am and his internal clock told him it was currently 2:47pm. They should have been back by now, what if something happened? There could have been a car accident, an ex-convict with a grudge could have happened across the lieutenant, anti-android activists could have recognized him as the police officer with an android partner. There could have been a robbery gone wrong, Sumo could have tried to cross the street at the wrong time, things could have spiraled out of control like he was now.

{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}

{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}

{THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR UNSTABLE}

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^90%}

{PROBABILITY OF SELF-DESTRUCTION: HIGH}

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

Hank could be gone, what if he was gone, Connor wasn’t ready he wasn’t ready. And he can still feel the danger approaching like a freight train, ready to completely destroy him once it hit. Hank, he needs Hank, he needs his friend, his partner, his father.

{CONTACTING LT. HANK ANDERSON}

{CONNECTING…}

{CONNECTING…}

{CONNECTING…}

“Hey, Con. What’s up?”

The Lieutenant’s gruff voice sounds in his head and Connor’s systems immediately offer an analysis on the man’s tone. Calm, not out of breath, low levels of stress. There’s the faint sound of jazz music playing in the background, along with Sumo’s signature panting. Evidence suggests they are in the car, perhaps on the freeway. The relief that courses through his wires is even stronger than the relief he felt upon seeing Hank the day after the revolution.

“Connor, you there,” Connor can’t bring himself to respond, opting to scan the room yet again, “Jesus, can androids even fucking pocket dial?”

He must subconsciously switch his phone call to match his vocal unit because Hank is suddenly speaking, concern seeping into his tone, “Hey, kid? Is that you breathing like that? What’s going on?”

Everything, he wants to say. Something or someone is coming for him, even if he can’t say what. He feels like his needs to deactivate his skin and tear off his plastic chassis because here is static that won’t go away underneath it, bringing him down and rendering him unable to even get up. His memory files are playing back images of blood, both red and blue, that he spilled and it won’t stop. Gunshots echo in his head, almost drowning out Hank’s voice, along with screams sounding off in a rusted ship. Too much , Connor wants to say.

“I-I-I...I can’t,” is what he manages.

There’s a pause, then a curse on the other line before Connor’s auditory unit’s pick up on the sound of the engine revving. “Yes you can. I need you to talk to me, what are your stress levels at?”

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^90%}

{PROBABILITY OF SELF DESTRUCTION: HIGH}

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

“Ninety percent…” Connor’s voice is hardly a whisper.

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

Connor’s shaking his head, despite knowing Hank can’t see him, “I-I’m home… I don’t know what’s wrong… they’re coming…”

“Shit...take a deep breath, Connor. Who’s coming,” Hank’s voice is like a tether, promising to secure him back to the ground.

“I don’t know, Hank, I don’t know. I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on with me,” his respiration rate picks up to 60 breaths per minute, “What’s...what’s happening?”

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^95%

{STRESS LEVELS CRITICAL: STASIS RECOMMENDED}

“You’re having a panic attack, Connor. I need you to take deep breaths and focus on my voice, okay?” Hank’s voice is low and steady, with a calming inflection. The part of Connor that is still capable, still logical, offers him the reasons why. Low, even tones helped to calm distressed people, building a sense of security and trust. His systems also offer him a definition for panic attack.

{PANIC ATTACK: A sudden episode of intense fear/anxiety that triggers severe physical reactions despite a lack of danger or apparent cause. Panic Disorder common in adults between the ages of 20-25}

But he wasn’t human. He’s a machine. He wasn’t designed to be capable of having a panic attack.

He must voice these thoughts out loud because Hank is suddenly speaking again in the same, reassuring manner, “You weren’t supposed to feel emotions either, but here we are. It’s alright, the feeling will go away soon. I want you to breathe with me, alright? In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Connor hears the exaggerated breathing and makes a few attempts to mimic it. It feels as if his ventilation biocomponents are stuttering, hiccuping their way through his imitation of a breath. He can’t breathe, he doesn’t need to but he can’t fucking breathe where was the air?

{STRESS LEVELS CRITICAL}

{PLEASE SEEK A CALMER ENVIRONMENT}

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

His snort would be derisive if it didn’t sound so choked. He’s home, it is supposed to be the safest, calmest place he had but he could feel the walls closing in. Threatening him. Trapping him. Suddenly, the open space of the living room leaves him feeling claustrophobic, imprisoned, trapped. He ignores Hank’s questioning and surges to his feet, static forgotten as he sprints to the front door, nearly ripping off the doorknob in his haste to get out, to escape.

It’s pouring outside, Detroit currently in the rainiest April they’ve had since the invention of androids. The rain soaks him in seconds, slicking the hair to his artificial skull and drenching his clothes. It feels nice and cool against his overheating body and he falls to his knees on the lawn. Connor’s fingers grasp at the grass, digging through old leaves and dirt. He’s always liked the rain. The way it washes the earth clean, making the smog of the city disappear for a couple hours. The way the world seems new, painting the soft greens and blues in more vivid colors. The way it smells fresh and how everything feels softer.

Rain is good. It’s nice. It paves the way for new life.

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

The prompt flashes in his vision like a neon sign. A failsafe against self-destruction Josh designed to assist deviants with their new, stressful lives, it gave them a way out that didn’t involve slamming their heads against whatever hard surface they could find. Once his levels reached 98%, his systems would automatically be forced into stasis, but at anything 80 or above, the prompt would flash until their levels either lowered or they powered down. Powering down, out here in the pattering rain, seemed like a better idea with every drop that touched his skin.

Connor disconnects the call with Lieutenant Anderson, despite the yelling coming from the other line, and he lies on the ground, looking at the gray sky. His limbs were once again replaced by static, terror threatening to wash him away. Images flashed over and over again and he wanted nothing more than the nothingness of stasis. He can feel the failsafe urging him closer and closer to the coding that induced stasis in androids.

Josh should be proud. He did his job and he did it well.

{INITIATING STASIS IN 3}

{2}

{1}

{GOODNIGHT RK800}

{MODEL RK800}

{SERIAL #313 248 317 - 51}

{BIOS 8.7 REVISION 2221}

{REBOOT…}

{STRESS INDUCED STASIS}

{LOADING OS…}

{SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...}

{CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK}

{INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK}

{INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK}

{MEMORY STATUS… OK}

{ALL SYSTEMS… OK}

{READY}

{STRESS LEVELS 20%}

Connor blinks, his LED switching from the calm blue of stasis to a puzzled yellow as he stares at the ceiling. He didn’t remember changing into dry sweatpants or putting on Hank’s police academy hoodie. He didn’t remember grabbing a blanket and laying down on the tattered, old couch. And he certainly didn’t remember Sumo coming home, even though the old dog was now laying on his chest, breathing heavily on his face. The RK800 looks around the room, brown irises searching until they land on a grizzled, older man sitting on the recliner, eyes intent on the TV screen playing the Detroit Gears game  across from him. “Hank?”

It’s like a bullet goes off in the room from how high the man jumps, beer spilling from the bottle in his hand. “Jesus fucking christ, kid! Warn a guy before you scare the shit out of him next time.”

“Apologies.” Hank sets the now empty bottle on the glass table, still cursing as he wipes his sticky, wet hand on his pants. He looks at Connor with tired eyes, blue eyes nearly glowing in the darkened room. Connor checks his internal clock; 11:32pm. “How long have you been home?”

“I got home ‘bout five minutes after your shiny plastic ass hung up on me. Speaking of which, don’t you,” Hank points a finger at the android for emphasis, “ever do that again. Thought you went and shut down on me.”

If Connor were sitting, he would look down at the floor. As it is, he touches his chin to his chest and stares at the sleeping dog, unable to make eye contact, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

The human heaves a sigh and Connor can hear the sound of skin dragging over stubble, “Don’ apologize, kid. Shouldn’t have said that. You just scared me is all. I came home to find you passed out on the lawn, staring up at the sky. I thought you had self-destructed or some shit.”

“Josh designed a program to induce stasis in case my stress levels ever got too high,” he offers as a way of explanation.

Hank nods, snapping his fingers to get Connor to look at him, “Yeah, that’s what Simon said. Speaking of which, he left some solidified thirium for you. It’s shaped like fucking animal crackers, when the hell did that start happening?”

Connor ignores the question, raising his eyebrows at Hank’s statement, “Simon was here?”

“Yeah, well, I thought something was wrong so I called him over to help. Not as young as I used to be, Con, no way I was going to lift your metal ass back inside. He helped me get you inside and explained what happened after connecting with you.”

He looks away from the Lieutenant, watching the muted game instead. “So,” Hank says.

“So?” Connor questions.

“We gonna talk about what happened?”

Connor sighs, a habit he picked up from the man, “I don’t know what happened. I assume it was an error or malfunction.”

There’s a pause in which the Gears score and Sumo huffs softly in his sleep. Then, a napkin bounces off the android’s head, bringing his attention back to the Lieutenant. Once Hank is sure he has his attention, he speaks, his voice gruffly affectionate, “You know, for a walking supercomputer you sure are a fucking dumbass.”

“Lieutenant?”

“You had a goddamn panic attack. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, it happens,” he raises his hand to stop Connor as the RK800 opens his mouth to protest, “I know the symptoms well enough by now to recognize one when I see..hear it.”

A frown finds its way onto Connor’s face, eyebrows furrowing, “It was…” he trails off, unsure.

Hank nods in understanding, “Overwhelming?”

“Yes. It felt like I was in danger, but I couldn’t find the reason why, then my systems went into overdrive.”

“Works the same way in humans, Con. Welcome to living, it fucking sucks,” Hank kicks his recliner back into its original arrangement, putting him into a sitting position, “But we can learn what triggers them in you, and how to make them shorter and less intense. You ain’t fucking doing this alone.”

Connor lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “How?”

“Shit, well...you know I’m bad about talking about my feelings but I ain’ half bad at listening. And I’m guessing it’s going to be trial and error. But we’re gonna see if what works for humans works for androids. Breathing and grounding techniques that I learned might help. Also, Simon told me to let you know he’s invited you to a support group he has going on at New Jericho. A lot of Tracis and military androids are supposed to be going to it.”

His stress levels decrease at Hank’s words and he offers the man a soft, half smile, “Thanks, Hank. I...appreciate it.”

The Lieutenant pats his legs, calling Sumo. The big dog sighs before lumbering off Connor and padding toward his owner’s side. Connor sits up, catching a box Hank tosses at him once he’s fully up. “Here, eat your fucking blood cookies, ya vampire. Here you are, going off on me about what I eat and then you go and stuff your face with blue shit.”

“The difference between thirium and what you eat is that thirium is necessary to my function, and therefore, considered ‘healthy’ for an android. Fast food, filled with grease and sodium, is not.”

“Hey, Con?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck off.”

[roommateofmyimagination-blog]

Chapter 11.5: The Kit Goes on a Date!

«Gabe»

My fingers fly across the keyboard as I work on a paper for my English class. Why do things have to be so simple now? I remember when I use to struggle writing papers, now it’s just a breeze. I pause, lean back in my desk chair and try to grab my water bottle off my dresser. Putting my foot here and making the chair tip to just enough of an angle I'll be able to grab my water bottle, not a problem. I take my hair band out that’s holding my blonde hair back and then push it back once more so it’s sitting tighter on my head. Placing my foot on the edge of the desk I lean the seat onto its back legs and reach for the water bottle.

“You really sure it’s going to work this time?” Warin my red fox questions me. I can feel his eyes on the back of my head.

“It’s going to, I placed my water bottle in the perfect position for this to work,” I answer paying him no other mind.

“THERE’S A MATCH!” My younger brother yells as my door slams open.

“Woah,” my jumping from the sudden loud noise causes me to push a bit too hard on the desk and me and the chair go crashing to the floor. My head slams down on my arm and my feet are in the air. It’s like he fucking knew this was going to happen…bastard.

“Dude, you okay?” I look up to see Kane, Yori’s roommate poking his head into my single of a room.

“I’m fine just miscalculated the possibility of you two charging into the room and making my jump to throw off my balance is all,” I groan as I continue laying there on the floor. I roll onto my back and look up at the two of them, “So, what is there a match about?” I sigh.

“We signed you up for a local dating app and you got a hit!” Yori exclaimed showing me his phone.

I sit up and look at it. The app seems simple enough. Just a basic profile and then people in the area who are also looking for a possible suitable match do the same. The profile bubble on it was a side view of me working on my computer. I don’t remember Yori taking that picture of me. “Why did you sign me up for something like this?”

“Because you need to get out there more and live a little!” Kane spoke up first. I get out plenty because of a certain someone who finds enjoyment in kicking me in the side, who just so happens to be in a cute fox form and laying on my bed, thank you.

“What if I don’t want to?” I raise an eyebrow.

“You’re not getting out of this. The dates already set up for Red Robin at six,” Yori states.

“So, you have time to get ready! And we’ll be driving you so you don’t flake out.” I open my mouth to speak but Kane keeps going, “Don’t even think about locking us out, I’ll break in.” Considering that the locks here are child’s play anyone can break into these rooms if they have the proper kit to do so.

“Don’t’ you dare break down my door,” I hiss at him.

“Good, then we’re on the same page! Finish that paper of yours and then get ready!” Kane gave me a thumbs up.

“We’ll be back at five to drag you out of the room!” Yori waved at me happily and then the two of them left closing the door behind them. Leaving me laying on the floor in a silent room.

“Kane feels like a bad influence for Yori,” I sigh rolling off my chair and standing up.

"He doesn't seem bad, just a bit wild," Warin speaks up once again and I look at him after picking up my chair, "It's not a bad thing that they signed you up for this dating app thing. You do need to get out more. I also need you to practice more with your abilities, you've barely touched them since I upgraded you a few weeks ago."

I give him a deadpan face as I stand there with my hands on my chair, "I have five hours to get ready for this date. If I do anything what are Kane and Yori going to take it as?"

“Do something simple, I want to see if you can hold things for a longer period of time. It doesn’t have to be a huge change like changing your height, maybe try holding a hair color change and one of your eyes. It would be good practice.” He does have a point. If I change my eye color that’s normally under my bangs no one would notice unless I move my bangs. Plus, if it’s just my hair then I can tell Yori and Kane that I felt like getting temporary dye. “Or, we can train for the next three hours and then you can rush getting ready.”

I take a step over towards my dresser and grab my water bottle, “I’ll take a break for today, I don’t feel like getting kicking in my side right now,” I answer before taking a drink. “I’ll finish my paper then work on getting ready.” I close my water bottle and then sit back down at my desk, placing my water bottle next to me.

“You’re no fun,” Wairn pouts from the bed, "How do you expect to stay ahead of LumenDove?" I look over at him and then back down at my laptop and being typing once again.

“By training obviously, but everyone needs a day off. Plus, Yori’s busy with Kane today so I can’t train with him. I’d much rather kill two birds with one stone and help my little brother get stronger at the same time. I want him to be able to protect himself while he’s in his hero’s form.” It really didn’t take me long to figure out that Yori was TerraJade, by how he acted and responded to certain situations. Putting two and two together was child’s play really. I’m still not sure who LumenDove is or the other new kid is. If I somehow meet them when they’re not in their hero forms would I be able to tell who they are?

Time flies by and I finish my paper but decide I'll go back and edit later. Messing around with my hair color I end up going with black because it stands out the most. Then to make Warin happy I change my right eye to an ice blue, but with my bangs, I'm keeping it hidden. Then it was off to the showers and getting dressed in a pair of black cargo pants and a white t-shirt with a blue short sleeved button up shirt that I only buttoned up the center two buttons.

As I thought I got the panic from Yori about my hair and I had to keep telling him it was only temporary and that I would be able to wash it out in one to two washes. Kane commented that I look even paler with black hair than I did with my blonde hair. But after their nit picking the three of us go down to Kane's truck and he drives us to Red Robin.

“This isn’t a good idea, I don’t know if she’s going to come,” I comment as I stand outside the restaurant with Kane and my little brother. This is nerve wrecking. I don’t know. I just wanna go home.

“No Gabe, you’re not backing out. I want you away from the computer screen and to get out more. Sitting around isn’t going to help either of us,” My little brother comments pointing a finger at me. Of course, it’s not going to help me get over our family dog passing away, but it gives me something else to think about.  

“Yeah, that’s why we’ll be here as a secret double date for you!”  Kane comments confidently as he puts and arm around Yori’s shoulders.

“I told you, it’s not a date because we’re splitting the bill,” Yori sighs look over at Kane through the corner of his eye. Even I can tell that Kane is trying his hardest to get Yori to like him. Maybe if they did date it would get Kane to level out a bit.

"What's the girl's name again?" Kane questioned and then his eyes broke away from me. I follow his gaze to see a man with long light brown hair and a section of it shaved on the right side with deep red eyes walks up towards the door of Red Robin with a shorter man with red hair and pale blue eyes. "Hey Adrian!" They stop and look at the three of us when they hear which ever one’s name is Adrian is called out.

The red head looks up at the burnet and the burnet holds the door open above the red head and opens his mouth to speak, “Um, Kane, right?” So, the burnet is Adrian. He seems like someone who would be in a band so something. “Sup dude?” The two of them dress completely different. The red head has got to be at least bisexual based on his short shorts and crop top he’s wearing. But I could also be wrong and he could actually be a she.

"Not much! Just waiting for Gabe's date! Who's the redhead with you?" Kane questioned. Does the Adrian guy not have something that’s ripped? If this is a date between the two of them wouldn’t it be best to place your best foot forward and wear something decent?

The redhead goes to say something before Adrian places a hand on top of their head, "His name is cupcake, he’s my cupcake, don’t touch he’s very fragile.” So, I was correct, he is in fact a he. So that helps…

The redhead laughs, “My name’s Valentine, call me Val.” That voice sounds familiar somehow. I look over at Yori who doesn’t seem to be paying any mind at all. He probably didn’t notice. But I feel like I’ve heard that voice before.

“Kane, nice to meet ya,” Kane greets the two of them

“Yori,” My little brother answers

“Gabe,” I nod at them as I pull out my phone to check the time.

“So, who exactly are you waiting for?” Adrian asks.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Pulling my eyes away from my phone I see a girl with long black hair and neon green streaks pulled up into twin pigtails run towards us. She's wearing a simple deep red shirt that hangs off her right shoulder and short shorts along with shin-high black boots. She’s so short and cute. I wonder how tall she is, she’s gotta be at least over five foot I’m assuming. Not by much though. I slip my phone back in my pocket.

“Joce,” Adri greets happily.

She comes to a stop and puts her hands on her knees, “I’m so sorry, I was having a hard time figuring out what I wanted to wear.” Based off this first meeting that wasn’t something that I was expecting. Unless she was nervous about this date as well.

"I-It's okay, really, it wasn't that long," I answer waving my hands in front of myself trying to make her release the tension that’s surrounding her.

“And with that, it’s our time to scoot,” Kane comments and pushes Yori towards the door and around us to go inside leaving me alone with Adrian, Val, and my date, Joce for the evening.

“So, this is the date,” I look over towards Adrian to see him smirking a bit. Clearly, he knows her, but how? Were they childhood friends? Have they dated?

She stood up and glared at him and took a few steps towards the two of them putting her finger in Adrian’s face, “I swear if you’re the one that’s making me do this I’m going to rip your dick off.” That’s a bit harsh isn’t it?

“Joce, Jocey, love of my life, I did not set you up on this. I was just watching,” Adrian comments clearly nervous. If the two of them are dating of have dated, then why would he be calling her ‘love of my life?’ Maybe I should go with the ladder option and say they are friends somewhere along the way.

“So, you were set up to do this too?” I comment making her turn back towards me.

“Yeah, one of my friends did it,” She rubbed her arm the slightest of pink spreading across her cheeks. That’s so cute!  “If you don’t want to be on this date I can completely understand I made you wait.” Why wouldn’t I want to go on this date? I’ve already been drug out here and to know that she was forced to do this too makes it a bit easier. Maybe I can offer to help her figure out who set her up for this.

I shook my head and smile softly at her, “No, you seem like an interesting girl, I would love to have dinner with you.”

Her light blush turns just a shade darker as she breaks eye contact with me and plays with her hair, “Now come along cupcake, we have burgers and fries to eat,” I look away from her to see Adrian and Val go into the restaurant.

I hold the crook of my arm out to her with a smile, “Shall we head in ourselves?” I ask and she takes my arm. Her skin is so smooth. She loosely holds onto my arm and we walk over to the door. I grab it and hold it open for her so she walks in first. It’s not too long after that we’re seated.

What am I doing? I don't know the first thing to talk about with her. Having more intelligence doesn't fucking helping me in this situation. I don't know the first thing about what girls are interested in. I'll just apologize now for if I'm really awkward. "I'm just going to apologize in advance if I say something stupid or make an awkward silence between us. This is my first time I've ever been on a date, so I'm not too sure what to do exactly."

She stares at me and then smiles, “What are you apologizing for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“OH, well um…i-it’s just in case,” I brush my bangs that are hanging in front of my eye away from my face for just a moment before it falls back in my face.

“Sweet thing, it’s okay,” She laughed and wrapped her arm around mine and then we were taken to our table.

“My name is Laila I’ll be your server today, can I start you off with any drinks or do you need a minute?” The girl that came up to our table right after we were seated has a smile on her face.

“I’ll just have a water please,” I smile a little at her.

“Same, just a water as well, thank you,” Joce nods to the girl.

“Alright, I’ll be right back with your drinks,” Laila turns on her heels and heads off to get our drinks.

"So…what's your favorite hobby? And I'm so sorry again. I'm normally sitting in front of a computer screen and not being social, so the only real type of interactions I know other than with my little brother and his roommate is from what I see in anime's." I feel my face heat up and I slap my hands on my face, "Oh god, I'm rambling I'm so sorry,"  

"It's okay. I sing and dance a lot as a hobby, I also cook," I peek through my fingers so see her smirking, "Oh, by the way, I'm half Japanese.” I pull my hands away from my face and look at her shocked, “So these Japanese cartoons you call anime, I know them quite well, “She giggled and stuck out her tongue at me, “Also,” She points at her hair, “Most of the time my hair is inspired by anime characters, or it’s just one of those I feel like Insert color here kinda day.”

"That's really cool," I mutter and smile a bit, "I've never been willing enough to do anything more drastic than what I've already done with my hair."

“You have a nice hair style, it seems to fit you,” She smiles at me.

“Thanks, but all else I’ve done to it is dye it black like it is now,” I said playing with the ends of my hair, “My parents weren’t too thrilled with that.”

“What’s your original hair color?” She asks.

“It’s blonde, like my little brothers.” I answer.

“I would love to see what you look like with blonde hair sometimes," She comments making my face heat up once more.

“Thanks, so, what’s your natural hair color then? If you don’t mind me asking that is,” I question  

Laila came back with our drinks and set them down in front of us, “Have you two decided what you would like to eat?”

“Oh yes, could I get the Keep It Simple burger please?” Joce asked with a small smile.

“May I get the chicken Caesar wrap please?” I ask.

Laila nods and smiles "Can do!" With that, she walks away.

“It’s black,” She answers simply, “And I don’t mind you asking at all, "Also, I would love to see your natural hair sometime. With how dark you went, I don't know how well it's going to come back."

“I hope it’ll be alright. Don’t get me wrong I enjoyed my hair, but I wanted a change is all. Originally, I wanted to go with red, but I changed my mind and decided to go with black instead,” I answer looking down, “I know that there’s a lot of risks with dying your hair and how much it damages it,”

“It’s just one of those you want a change,” I look back up at her and she’s smiling. She shrugs lightly, “I totally get it.” She leans her elbows on the table and tips her head looking at me, “What’s your major?”

"It's Computer Science, I'm also double majoring in Business. I'm more so into Coding," I lean back and cough, "I like hacking into things. How about yourself?” I ask as if I didn’t say the last part.

Her eyes widened for just a moment as she seemed to be thinking about something. What could she be thinking about? Did I say something wrong? Should I ask her? No, I can’t do that. It would be rude. I barely know her. “I’m an interior design major with a minor in culinary,” She answers. Holy shit she can cook! That’s amazing, maybe I should ask her to teach me some time considering I burn popcorn. “You seem to be a person with a very active mind with how you look like your analyzing what I just told you for an answer.” She points out to me.

I can’t help but laugh and rub the back of my head, “I was? I’m so sorry, I’ve always been like that. I’ve just gotten a lot worse about it since freshmen year.”

“Why’s that?” She tips her head.

Because of a damn fox that finds enjoyment in kicking me in my side and forcing me to transform when he wants me to. “I guess it’s because I became really focused on my studies, with it being computer science and all.” Not that I don’t mind having a higher intelligence and faster processing of situations. I love it, I can get homework done so much faster, especially after being upgraded to level two at the beginning of this year. The shapeshifting thing is still strange to me though. But it has come in handy considering this isn’t actually hair dye in my hair.

“You’re a sophomore too! That makes me feel a bit better,” She sighs in relief and leans back in her seat.

“What do you mean?” I question raising a brow at her.

“I thought you were either going to be older or younger in grade year than I am. But you look younger than I originally thought you did so I was a bit nervous,” So, does she like people older or younger than her?

“Fair enough, if you were thinking that there’s maybe a chance of this developing further it makes sense wanting to know the year of the person, because if one of us was older in school years than the other then there’s the possibility of there being a chance of there being a long-distance relationship that takes place other than just over the long breaks," I cross my arms and accidentally examine the situation out loud. I look up from the stop of the table that I was staring at to see her staring at me and blinking. I feel my face heat up and I instantly unfold my arms and look down at my lap, "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

She starts giggling and I look back up at her with my non-covered eye. She’s so pretty when she laughs. “No, no, don’t apologize. I just think it’s really cool that you were able to process that so quickly," She leaned on the table propping herself up on her elbows, "But, sometimes over-thinking things can be a bad thing."

“I know, it’s a bad habit of mine,” I sigh and hang my head.

“Na, it’s not a bad habit at all.” I look back up at her and she’s smiling. But her body posture is telling me that there’s a big something she’s not telling me. Do I ask her about what her hidden message means? There’s a ninety percent chance that she won’t answer and change the subject considering this is our first interaction with each other. Wait no, this isn’t our first interaction. She’s in my statistic’s class. She sit’s two rows behind me and to my left.

“So, that Adrian guy?” I start and look up, locking eye with her once more.

“Oh no, don’t worry about him. He’s just my band mate and the leader of our band,” Joce waves her hand at me.

“I’m assuming he’s homosexual correct?” I tip my head a bit to the right exposing my right eye to her.

“Wow, you hit the nail right on the head. How did you figure that out?” She questioned and out of the corner of my eye I see Laila coming with our food.

“Here’s your food, I’m so sorry for the wait,” Laila came up to us with a tray that has our food on it.

“Thank you,” Joce says to the girl as her burger is set down in front of her.

“Thanks,” I nod as my wrap is set in front of me.

“If you need anything else just let me know!” Laila smiles at us then hurries off back towards the kitchen.

I pick up at half of my wrap and take a bite out of it, “How long does dye stay in your hair anyways?” I question after swallowing.

She holds up a finger to me because her mouth is stuffed full of burger. After swallowing and taking a drink she answers me, “It all depends on what dye you used. Was it a temporary dye?” I blink at her confused with my Wrap shoved in my mouth. This made her laugh, “Do you still have the box?” I shake my head a little to answer her as I take another bite, “Hmmmm…then we’ll just have to scrub your hair and see if it starts to face in the first couple of washes.” Shit, how do I make my hair fade like it has hair dye in it? “But, considering you said you, normal hair color is blonde, even a temporary color that simply stains the hair can last as long as the permeant hair color. It all depends on how your hair takes to it.” She explains to me.

I swallow my bite and feel my face heat up, “O-Okay,” I can’t stop myself from stuttering.

We continue to talk as we eat. I learn about how long she's known her band mates and what role she plays in the band. She tells me to come to one of their shows that are coming up soon.

“I had a lot of fun,” Joce laughs as we walk out of Red Robin together.

“Same here. It was a lot of fun talking to you,” I smile and walk with her to her car. When I look over to find Kane’s truck where he parked it, it’s no longer there.

Those fuckers left without me. Some brother, “I-I’m sorry to ask but, do you I could catch a ride with you? My little brother and his roommate drove me here because they thought if I drove myself I wouldn’t come.” I ask nervously as we stop at her car.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t mind,” She giggled a little and unlocked her car. I waited for her to get in and then I got in myself.

I sit down in the car and I have to pull my set in, "Is there any way I can push the seat back?" I ask with a light laugh.

“Oh yeah, the bar is right under the seat, sorry about that,” She answered and I reached between my legs and found the bar. I pushed the seat all the way back. My legs were still bent but not as bad. Pulling the buckle over my shoulder Joce started going. “How tall are you anyways?”

“I’m 6’2”, I know I’m a tall person,” I answer fiddling with my fingers.

“Holy fuck you are tall,” She laughed, “At least I wasn’t too far off for how tall you were in my head. So, is there anywhere you want to go before heading back to the school?”

I don’t want to stop talking to her yet… “Do you want to go to the park? I’ll give you gas money. It looks really pretty there at night and I know a really good spot that looks stunning.”

“I don’t see why not. I don’t feel like going back home and staring at my homework anyways,” She laughed and then takes a right at the stop sign that we were sitting at to head towards the park. She parks in one of the small parking lots that litter around the park and we both get out. It’s nice to stretch my legs.

“Sorry about my car being so small,” She apologizes.

“Oh, no don’t apologize. It’s just me being tall is all,” I smile letting my arms drop back down to my sides, “I’ll have to take you out on my bike sometime as another thank you for driving.”

“What kind of bike? Bicycle, motorbike, motorcycle?” She questioned as we began walking side by side.

“Motorcycle, I was allowed to get my license when I graduated high school,” I answer pulling out my wallet and showing her my license. I went and got it last weekend.”

“YES!” She screams and I jump a bit, “I would love to go on a ride!” She exclaimed.

“Okay, then next time we’re both free then we’ll take my bike. I did bring a spare helmet with me I think. I’ll have to double check,” I mutter crossing my arms over my chest. I look down at Joce. She and all of her short self-are practically skipping along next to me in joy.

“I wanna go with you if you have to go get the spare helmet,” She comments as we come up to a bridge and she walks up onto the railing.

"But that's beside, the point of me getting the spare helmet," I blink at her.

“I have a bike helmet it’ll be fine,” She waved my concern.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how tall are you exactly?” She smiles and holds a peace sign out to me.

“I’m 5’3” like a boss!” she answers confidently.

“Do you like your height?” That was a weird question. It’s not like I can do anything about it. I can about mine, but still…

"My brothers who are taller than me harass me about how I have to climb on chairs and what not, but there are some perks," She shrugs and loses her balance a bit. I stick out my hand and grab a hold of hers pulling her back and helping her balance once more before we continue and she hops off the railing as we get to the end of the bridge.

“You can fit in small spaces tall people can’t and you can get up and move a bit faster than tall people as well,” I said taking a left down another trail. We move away from the lights and I pull out my small flashlight that I always carry on me. "May I hold your hand? I don't want to lose you." I hold out my hand to her and wait for her response.

“Don’t wanna lose me cuz I’m short as fuck and I can disappear on a whim?” She questions.

I shake my head rapidly, “Nononononononono, that’s not what I mean. I just mean that the path get’s small and difficult to navigate so I don’t want to pull ahead of you on accident,” I feel my face heat up and she laughs. She takes my hand and then pulls my arm into her and hugs my arm into her body.

“Alright, let’s go!” She presses my arm a bit more against her chest and my heart starts to pound.

“R-right,” I nod and start to walk with her holding my arm. “So tell me more about yourself.”

“Not too much to tell really, I have older brothers, I go to college, and I’m in a band. Pretty simple life if you ask me,” She answers as I move a branch out of the way for us to walk past, “What about yourself?”

“Have a little brother, and go to college. I’m not a part of any sports or clubs really. I’m not a very big social person. I’m kinda boring. But if you ever need someone to hack into some lights for a show I can do that not a problem.” I mention.

She just starts laughing at me, “And I took you as more so the good boy type.”

Honestly, I don’t even know why I was chosen to be a hero with that particular trait of mine. "Well, I guess I'm just full of surprises," I laugh sheepishly. I see the reflection of the moon on the water and I move the last branch out of the way, "Here we are." It's a quiet little pond that's surrounded by woods. "Other's probably know about this place, but every time I come I'm here for hours and no one ever shows up," I comment as I look out at the calm water of the pond. The moon and stars reflecting off the water on this clear, warm night.

Joce's expression was of amazement. Her grip on my arm slacks ever so slightly. The reflection of the moon is bouncing off the water and giving her smooth skin a soft glow. She looks so beautiful in this light. I thought she was cute when she came running up to us earlier, but now she looks like a goddess that’s just seen something new for the first time.  

“It’s beautiful,” She finally whispers.

“Remind me to bring you here during the day then so you can learn the path. It’s a nice place to think. I think it is anyways. It also gets me away from a computer screen,” I smile down at her.

“I think I can do that,” She looks up at me and smiles once again.

We stand there a bit longer before heading back the way we came and back to the car. The two of us head back to the university and I tell her where my dorm is. “I had a lot of fun and thank you so much for driving me back.” I pull out my wallet and hand her a twenty, “Take it for gas money.”

“No, keep that for the next date,” She pushes my hand back into my chest. And I feel my face heat up. Does she want a second date? “Come here really quick I’ve gotta tell you something.”

I lean down and she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down further into a hug. I tense up for a moment and then wrap my arms around her for a hug. Once I do so she lessens her grip. I start pulling my arms away from her when she touches her lips to mine. I freeze in place. It was just for a moment, but I can still feel her lips on mine as she pulls away. “Kay, I’ll talk to you later. I had a lot of fun Gabe,” She steps back and waves before quickly running back to her car and hoping in. I stand there blinking and processing what happened when she honks her horn and drives off. There’s a small sound of a poof and my black hair is instantly back to blonde.

“You still can’t hold a transformation,” I jump and put my arms up in a defensive position when I hear Warin’s voice in my ear. I look at him and I can just see the smirk on his lips even with half his face covered with his face mask thing he wears.

“What are you doing out looking like that?” I hiss at him and he laughs and places a hand on my head and messes up my hair.

“Oh, my little kit you have so much to learn. Now, I’m hungry make me something,” He flops all his weight on my side and I almost fall over.

"H-Hey, you have handed you should make it yourself," I comment.

He poofs and there's now a Fox on my shoulders, "You were saying?"

I sigh heavily, “Just wait for me upstairs, you know if the RA is actually at the help desk I’m going to get in huge trouble.”

“Roger!” He says excited and then poofs once more disappearing off my shoulders.

I look down the road where Joce is long gone and I blush, I hope she’s not joking about a second date. I would like that.  I turn on my heels as I pull out my keys and head to the door of the dorm to go up and feed Warin dinner.

[amaris-noir]

answer all of the numbers, pls?

Thank you for asking! I’ve tried to answer all questions I could answer to~ 

1: Is there a boy/girl in your life?

I don’t know how to answer that. There kinda is someone but isn’t..

2: Think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them?

Yes. At least I’d do my best to try to. 

3: What do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”

Cuteness, kittens, nekomimi in anime? D:

4: What’s something you really want right now?

Pass all the exams this month, find a job I’d be comfortable with, be somewhere else. 

5: Are you afraid of falling in love?

I think next time I’d be but I can’t tell if there would be next time.

6: Do you like the beach?

If it’s not very hot or crowded and I can find a place where I can escape Sun then yeah~ I like sand, breeze and sea 

7: Have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?

I don’t think so? On a bed yes (I slept with mom, one or two friends) but couch no

8: What’s the background on your cell?

Black and white image of Japanese city neons 

9: Name the last four beds you were sat on?

What XDD My mom’s bed, a hospital bed and that’s basically it. 

10: Do you like your phone?

Pretty much yes. Just hope it won’t start slowing down more.

11: Honestly, are things going the way you planned?

I plan very little..  I’ve planned more travelling this year and this hasn’t worked out yet and it won’t because I don’t even have money anymore

12: Who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?

Dentist?

13: Would you rather have a poodle or a Rottweiler?

Definitely a Rottweiler if I could choose.

14: Which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?

It depends on the kind of physical pain because there are ones that I can take and ones that make me wanna die. But I guess emotional pain is worse? It’s always shitty and makes me cry and wanna die or stop feeling.

15: Would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?

Ah! I visited both when I was in Germany last time but idk what was better. Zoo is definitely more attractive and more fun and alive.

16: Are you tired?

Physically so so, emotionally rather yes..

17: How long have you known your 1st phone contact?

I assume my 1st phone contact was my mom/home number so I’ve always known them.

18: Are they a relative?

Yeah - mom

19: Would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?

Maybe if I still loved someone and the reason of breakup wasn’t because the relationship was toxic or really bad. But I don’t have any exes so I can’t consider it.

20: When did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?

What

21: If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?

I can’t afford wedding hahaha But if I had the right person I’d definitely want to marry them, not necessairy on the spot. Also it wouldn’t be up to me only :3

22: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Those kissing questions.. *rolls eyes* 

23: How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?

None. I’m not a bracelet person.. Maybe I’d be but I can’t even put them on by myself D:

24: Is there a certain quote you live by?

I’m sure there are many that have influenced me but I don’t intentionally live by any particular one.

25: What’s on your mind?

Everything.. feelings, uni, exams, more feelings, summer plans?, life.

26: Do you have any tattoos?

Nope

27: What is your favorite color?

Black haha I like others as well but not as much as black.

28: Next time you will kiss someone on the lips?

That’s not something you can plan if you’re single and not a person who’d drunkenly kiss strangers in the bar. So idk. Will I ever even do that? 

29: Who are you texting?

Lately only two or three people at most

30: Think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch? PLS NO

31: Have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?

Not sure.. I feel very confused about my negative feelings

32: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?

@slaugrath I definitely bother him with things and he doesn’t seem to mind

33: Do you think anyone has feelings for you?

At the moment, I don’t know but rather not

34: Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?

Yes ♥ many of my friends and my family (it seems one thing about me is complimentable! I’m glad there’s at least one thing)

35: Say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?

eeh..? I don’t kiss anyone, pls stop.

36: Were you single on Valentines Day?

Yes ( . .)

37: Are you friends with the last person you kissed?

38: What do your friends call you?

Karolina, Mariko

39: Has anyone upset you in the last week?

Mom, ME, my friend

40: Have you ever cried over a text?

Yes

41: Where’s your last bruise located?

On the right arm

42: What is it from?

I don’t know XD

43: Last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?

I wanna be away from my brother and this house.. very often

44: Who was the last person you were on the phone with?

Mom…

45: Do you have a favourite pair of shoes?

Yeah!

46: Do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?

I’d have to wear hats everyday XD

47: Would you ever go bald if it was the style?

No D: I don’t follow trends that much. Who would like to look like the half of the city?

48: Do you make supper for your family?

No? We make breakfasts and suppers individually.

49: Does your bedroom have a door?

Yes? 

50: Top 3 web-pages?

idk.. youtube? tumblr? Such websites! :3

51: Do you know anyone who hates shopping?

Yeah

52: Does anything on your body hurt?

Yeah, my kokoro ( . .)

53: Are goodbyes hard for you?

Depends on what kind of goodbyes and with whom. I’ve never had any hard goodbyes.

54: What was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?

Probably tea.

55: How is your hair?

It’s wet .. I washed it a while ago.

56: What do you usually do first in the morning?

Check my phone.. Go to the kitchen to make myself tea.. Go to the bathroom to clean my face.

57: Do you think two people can last forever?

I think they can

58: Think back to January 2007, were you single?

Surely

59: Green or purple grapes?

Green ones~

60: When’s the next time you will give someone a BIG hug?

I don’t know but I know whom I wanna hug 

61: Do you wish you were somewhere else right now?

Yeah.

62: When will be the next time you text someone?

Today, soon? I gotta finish this and study and then text. Maybe in the evening after German course

63: Where will you be 5 hours from now?

Language school

64: What were you doing at 8 this morning.

Sleeping.. I kept waking up but I was sleeping in general.

65: This time last year, can you remember who you liked?

Yeah… The same person as now

66: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?

No.. Sounds sad haha 

67: Did you kiss or hug anyone today?

Nope and I won’t

68: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

I had lots of thoughts and can’t single out the last one.. I don’t remember when I fell asleep.

69: Have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?

Kinda..

70: How many windows are open on your computer?

Three.

71: How many fingers do you have?

… 10 fingers, 10 toes, luckily. 

72: What is your ringtone?

I don’t remember.. my phone’s on vibration mode all the time.

73: How old will you be in 5 months?

23 *sobs*

74: Where is your Mum right now?

In her room.. not working today because she’s ill.

75: Why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?

Someone has to like you back first.. and want to be with you D:

76: Have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?

No..

77: Are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?

I’m still friends with most of them

78: Do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?

A classmate?

79: Is there anyone you know with the name Mike?

Nope.

80: Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?

No.. *forever alone*

81: How many people have you liked in the past three months?

Jesus, how many people should I have liked? :o Just one XD’

82: Has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?

Family I live with ._.

83: Will you talk to the person you like tonight?

I want to but I don’t know if we’ll talk..

84: You’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?

I don’t understand this question. You mean whether I’m with hot guys or hot girls? I’d say guys but my opinion about what is hot in guys is not so obvious or typical haha 

85: If your BF/GF was into drugs would you care?

No, I’d just watch them destroy themselves.. D: Is such a question even necessary? Who wouldn’t care? 

86: What was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie?

Hm.. literally nothing happened. Unless people who come way too late count XD

87: Who was your last received call from?

Mom

88: If someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?

what the fuck D: I don’t think I would ._.

89: What is something you wish you had more of?

Affection, love, true friends, friends I’d feel comfortable with and could hand out with, money, knowledge, hair, femininity? 

90: Have you ever trusted someone too much?

Probably.. I think I trust people.

91: Do you sleep with your window open?

Rarely.. I can’t fall asleep because of noise. But I wake up at night or in the morning and I open it then :3 I don’t usually have problems with falling asleep once I wake up.

92: Do you get along with girls?

I guess?

93: Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?

From my grandma who asks if I like someone but I don’t think she needs to know the truth 

94: Does sex mean love?

Obviously not.. Not necessarily.

95: You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?

I don’t wanna be in a room alone lmao

96: Have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?

No. idk how kissing with or without one feels anyway

97: Did you sleep alone this week?

Yeah

98: Everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?

To some extent. It’d be much easier if I didn’t think and feel so much

99: Do you believe in love at first sight? 

Uh.. I think it’s a coincidence but it’s possible that you can start liking someone and can’t explain why and it develops and nothing about that person makes you stop liking them so the feelings of a kind of infatuation you’ve had get more real. 

100: Who was the last person that you pinky promise?

I don’t do pinky promises I guess?

[xavierscos]

Stuff to post w art today:

For the robosona ref:

Yup here’s my botsona!!!! Here’s some extra info on him!!!

·         He has inner fans to keep him below a certain temperature (one of them is busted)

·         If he gets too flustered/excited and goes past a certain temperature, he’ll blue screen and crash

·         If he gets too stressed he’ll do that weird color static thing computer’s do and then he’ll crash

·         Has a volume + power button on the side of his head. You can mute him by turning down his volume button (which will then result in him communicating through emojis and such)

·         He can use emojis when he’s not muted but he doesn’t really like doing that. The only emoji he uses no matter his volume level is the knife emoji

·         Can display words one at a time on his screen (the most used are: various curses such as FUCK, CUNT, ASS, SHIT; YES; NO; MOE; C-3Y). the word ERROR shows up when he crashes/does the blue screen thing

·         Pupil can change shape (hearts, eye swirls, money symbols, etc)

·         His cat companion Booby (yes based after my cat Boobs) was actually stolen! Yup! This lil bot fella stole a cat from someone’s house and the cat just ?? went with it?? And bonded with the bot??? anyways story is xai was homeless for a lot (he still is but now he travels) so every day when the person went off to work he’d sit at the fence and pet the cat bc booby would hop over it and he’d feed the cat and shit and one day he just. ran off w the cat

<b>Liquid mood-color chart </b>

Purple – standard mood, average

Pink – lovesick/lovestruck, doting, affectionate (tints the purple a bit more pink around ppl he genuinely loves buuut gets really bright when feeling Extra Affectionate)

Blue – sad, sullen (darker means feeling worse)

Red – angry, outraged (brighter means angrier)

Yellow – excited, energetic (different from happy – brighter means more energized)

Dark green – jealous, bitter, resentful

Bright green – disgusted, grossed out,

Pinkish-red – embarrassed, flustered, nervous,

Blue-green – apologetic, guilty

Neon/cyan blue – Frightened, panicking, scared

 ------

For the Duckpaw/Perse + alters

Hey yall as u kno duckpaw/perse has DID so I,, finally made art of her alters anyways let’s go

WC name | Human Name | Info | <b>How to tell if WC form is fronting</b> | <i>How to tell if Human form is fronting</i> |

 Mudpuddle | Mariana | She/Her. She’s the essential “caretaker” of the system. Makes sure the body isn’t damaged beyond repair and will take care of the body after Duck/Perse has had a bad episode. | <b>She constantly grooms her fur so it curls upwards slightly rather than Duckpaw’s straightforward style. Speaks in a soft, low tone.</b> | <I>Curls her hair w/ a curler. Wears blouses, dress pants, boots.</i> |

Patches | Dudley | They/Them. Tends to stick up more. Will front when Duck/Perse is being pressured to do shit she doesn’t like and/or recalling blocked out memories. Irritable, snarky, snide. Tends to be rather smug and a know-it-all. Yells @ ppl who pisses them off. | <b>Doesn’t groom as much as Duck or Mudpuddle, so fur kinda sinks down ish. Not really too far but. Still spiky like Duck’s. Cranky, loud. Will typically let u kno they’re fronting</b> | <i>Wears suits and ties, or dress shirts and pants. Wears hair up in a bun.</i>

Bugs | Bud | He/Him. Prefers to isolate himself, distances himself away from friends and shit. Doesn’t interact much unless necessary. Sleeps a lot and eats a lot. | <b>Will run off from camp and hide out in territory. Doesn’t groom, collects dirt in fur. Doesn’t really talk around others either.</b> | <i>Won’t change out of pajamas, doesn’t brush or wash hair, locks himself in the room.</i>

 ----

That ross/perse picture

Oooohhh boy lemme dive into the history of human au ross + Persephone real quick uh

<b>Trigger warnings: Physical abuse, sexual abuse, mental/emotional abuse, psychological trauma, death, pedophilia</b>

Ross had 4 other siblings and he was the youngest – his mother died after giving birth to him, so he always kinda carried around this guilt that he was the reason his mom was dead. His dad always kinda was distant/didn’t spoil him as much as the others, but he still cared for ross and shit. When ross was about 10 or so he was driving with his siblings while he talked 2 ronnie on the phone. Another car kinda rammed into them and they got in a pretty bad car wreck which Ronnie heard over the phone so he called ross’ family and shit. Reyes and hollyanne and his dad all came and a couple of ross’ siblings died on scene; he was hospitalized with one other sibling. He had a broken arm and a couple fractured ribs, bruising and lacerations but he was alive – his sibling was in a coma and didn’t come out.

Ross’ dad was kinda resentful bc he lost all of his kids besides ross and he already kinda resented ross for taking away his wife so he like. flat out ignored ross, didn’t talk to him, didn’t really do anything. Hollyanne started picking ross up to and from school bc he started missing bc his dad wouldn’t drive him. Eventually ross and his dad moved in w hollyanne and reyes (and then addar and Persephone came along). ross’ dad started saying some nasty comments over a period of a year or two that started to bring ross’ waaaayyyy down so ross turned to another guy (said guy was 18, ross was 13-14) who flattered him and told him nice shit. This guy took advantage of ross + ross’ insecurities and slept with ross more than once (despite ross saying he wasn’t comfortable the first few times)

The family caught ross + the guy in his room one night and hollyanne/reyes were pissed @ the guy bc this dude is 18,,preying on a 14 y/o so they kicked the dude out (they started filing for charges/restraining order after) but ross’ dad was pissed @ ross bc this wasn’t “right” (ross’ dad was a firm believer in abstinence and also this is an adult with a child and ross’ dad kinda blamed ross for not realizing what was happening was bad) so ross’ dad’s belittling started getting worse and worse afterwards and one day ross kinda said something back and ross’ dad hit him over the face and hollyanne/reyes were like “alright you have to go like right fucking now” so they kicked ross’ dad out and he left w/out looking back and ross hasn’t spoken to him in a while

Ross is now a bitter dude who thinks his only value in life is sex/sexual purpose and he doesn’t believe he can amount to anything good so instead of risking shit (like failing grades or job interviews or whatever) he bribes ppl 2 either do shit for him or give him shit (take a wild guess abt how the briberies work)

 Persephone has like 98% of her memories from her childhood blocked. Her mother died a little bit after her first birthday and no one knew who her dad was so she went into care under her uncle and her uncle was,, kinda poor so he had a bunch of friends/family he lived with. Persephone saw a lot of death growing up (people overdosed on drugs, sickness related, people got shot) and that kinda stuck with her through her life so she has a phobia of death stimming from that. Also some of her uncle’s friends started getting uh, handsy with her and touching her and shit so that has ,, stuck with her. She’s blocked out the memories but if she tries to recall them she’ll have a bad mental reaction. Eventually she managed to book it during the middle of another move (the family moved around a lot) and she kinda wandered the streets for a few days until hollyanne/reyes spotted her and took her in. eventually after a little bit of living w them she came out as a trans girl so now holly and reyes r helping her with her transition n shit. Also they got her professionally diagnosed

When she was in like 7th grade ross had brought home some dude he worked with on a science project. The guy was a senior but took some lower classes and shit,, also he’s addar. Anyways addar was always rlly friendly w Persephone and gave her a lot of brotherly attention and holly was eventually like “Hey do u mind babysitting ross and perse while reyes and I go out and do some errands” and addar was like “sure!!!” eventually they all got super close and addar moved in(?) so now theyre all one big happy family :”)

 Uh characters mentioned belong 2: :devberryboats: :devbabysiut: :devppurble:

((pls don’t read this if the triggers will cause bad shit just lemme kno what u wanna hear abt the history ill give u an abridged version of where ur charas r involved))

[viralhottopics]

The Far-Out Summit Where Geniuses Learn to Build Starships

To get to the spaceship convention I have to go to Chattanooga. To a former train depot once called Terminal Station, a beaux-arts building downtown, which was built in a time when trains were the apex of industrythe smartest, fastest, most high-tech way to move through spaceand when stations were elegant ports of call. It has a soaring dome, and the bathrooms are naturally lit through stained glass.

Terminal Station closed in 1970, not quite a year after Apollo 11 landed on the Moon. The building reopened in 1973, four months after the Apollo program ended, as the Chattanooga Choo Choo Hotel. The new owners put a neon train on the roof, the concourse beneath the freestanding dome became a lobby, and the baggage room became a dining hall. Passenger cars were moored to the rails and refurbished as luxury suites. The iron horse engine became a thing for guests to climb aboard forselfies. The outbuildings and rail yards sprouteda gift shop, a pizza parlor, a comedy club, an indoor jungle-themed swimming pool, and an outdoor doughnut-shaped swimming pool, among other things.

Chattanooga is not quite the regional transportation hub it was in the latter golden age of rail travel, and in fact these days is kind of a pain in the ass to get to. So after 12hours of planes, delays, and courtesy shuttles, I drop my baggage in my room and go looking for a drink.

Philip Lubin, a UC Santa Barbara physicist, begins his plenary talkRoadmap to Interstellar Flightby announcing that he rarely goes to these kinds of conferences because they are too far on the imaginary axis for me. But Lubin has a plan for launching vehicles from Earth that would reach Alpha Centauri not in 30,000 years but in 20.

Heres what you need: an orbital laser, a small satellite equipped with a square meter of reflective sail, and the sun. Superefficient solar panels power the laser, which can fire the equivalent of about one-eighth the amount of electricity the US consumes each year. That dense stream of photons creates enough pressure against the sail to accelerate the craft to 100 million miles per hourone fifth the speed of light.

Which at first sounds pretty bullshitty. Laser sails? But nobody in this lecture hall full of no-bullshitters snorts. So keep listening: A single photon exerts an infinitesimal amount of force. Cant get much much delta-vee from that. But a lot of photons pushing against a very tiny spacecraft? That will give you a whole hell of a lot of delta-freaking-vee. Which is why Lubin spends a lot of his stage time talking about Moores law, the exponential rate at which computers get simultaneously faster and cheaper over time. His plan requires fully functioning satellitesprocessors, camera, nav, comms, and even a tiny propulsion unit for course adjustmentsweighing less than a gram.

Oh, and a really big laser. Throttling a wafersat up to 100 million miles per hour will take a 100-gigawatt laser array. Or, for the no-bullshit, build-it-with-todays-technologyby strapping together 100 million 1-kilowatt lasers.

The plan has technical hurdles. During the Q&A after the talk, astrophysicist (and third TVIW cofounder) Greg Matloff raises objections about how the Doppler effect will sap photons propulsive force. But for the most part, the plan uses existing or close-enough technology and is therefore very non-bullshit until you start talking price.

A 1-kilowatt laser retails for about $70. Even if you get the bulk discount for buying 100 million of them, you still have to put them in orbit. Current launch rate is about $3,000 a pound. Also, the solar panels that will power the thing are very expensive (and heavy). The whole apparatus could be anywhere from three to 10 square miles across. For comparison, the International Space Station is slightly bigger than a football field.

Lubins talk pisses off a lot of people. Hes up there onstage, basically telling them their ideas for fusion, matter-antimatter, and whatever else are too expensive, too slow, and too imaginary for interstellar travel in this lifetime. Oh, also, dont bother building a worldship or whatever, because the human body is 99 percent wasted mass. Sorry.

Philip Lubin (left) discusses beamed energy propulsion during aworking track following his plenary speech about beamed energy propulsion. Joey O’Loughlin

But then, a little more than a month after the TVIW talk, Russian billionaire Yuri Milner announces that he plans to seed Lubins idea with $100 million. Thats not Apollo money$200 billion in 2016 dollarsbut Milner also scales back some of Lubins ideas. (He grounds the laser, eliminating a lot of the launch costs). Milner tells me he expects the $100 million will buy the project a proof-of-concept. The complete 100-million-mph mission to Alpha Centauri will likely cost between $5 billion (one Large Hadron Collider) and $10 billion (A James Webb Space Telescopeplus two New Horizons).

If you want to send people to space, propulsion is the least of your problems. It’s not as hard as food, water, and not catching space madness.

Again, that is for a mission with no people. The price tag for a crewed mission to the stars is Apollo squared. Maybe even cubed. Who knows. But despite Lubins ambivalence toward crewed interstellar flight and Milners low investment relative to the goal, this proof-of-concept pushes the humans a little bit closer toward being an interstellar species.

And if you are talking about people, propulsion is probably the easiest problem to solve, spacewise. Even if your sub-bullshit interstellar engine runs on nuclear fusion (which no one knows how to build) fueled by helium-3 from Jupiters atmosphere (which no one knows how to harvest), learning how to create such a thing is still not as hard as feeding, hydrating, protecting from radiation, keeping sane, and otherwise keeping healthy multiple generations of human beings. But thats what you have to do if youre using a sub-bullshit engine to go to another star.

Amodel worldship discussed at TVIW would carry about 10,000 people.Michel Lamontagne

The Worldship

Imagine a rod over 9 miles long, maybe a quarter-mile wide. Now put 12 rings around it, each 3miles in diameter, attached to the central rod with spokes. Spin the wheels to simulate gravity. Thats a generation ship, designed to spend hundreds or thousands of years traveling between star systems. A worldship.

Theres a picture of that one taped to awall ina meeting room at the Chattanooga Choo Choos convention center. The room is temporary headquarters for the Worldship Working Track, an effort to add a little bit of variety to TVIWs propulsion-heavy diet. The dozen and a half worldshippers are split into two subgroups, each gathered around their own round banquet tables covered with laptops, spiral notebooks, elbows, and soda cans.

On a large, easeled, tearaway pad in the middle of the room, somebody on the worldship team has drawn a color-coded cross section of the rings. From outside in: a one-meter-thick structural shell; three meters of two-phase water to shield against radiation; varying thicknesses of substrate, rock, and soil; 500-meter air gap; clear ceiling; and about 2 kilometers of vacuum between the ceiling and central hub.

The worldship rings could replicate any Earthly climate by adjustingheat and precipitation.Michel Lamontagne

The climate subgroup of worldshippers ishuddled over a single laptop, working on the rain problem. A French-Canadian engineer named Michel Lamontagne tells me planet Earth has the best plumbing system in the universe. Solar energy heats moisture, moisture rises, cools, condenses, falls, wash, rinse, repeat. Figuring out the thermodynamics of cloud formation is a pain in the ass, but way more reliable in the long run. No pipes to clog, filters to foul, screws to strip, vents to dent, valves to rust. Maintenance is not just a hassle; any mission-critical system with an abundance of moving parts is bound to failcriticallyat some stage of a multigenerational interstellar mission. Plus, rain helps keep the dust down.

Worldship passengers: cockroaches, dogs, Maine coon cats, rats, crickets, and tarantulas. But nothing from Australia. Everything there wants to kill you.

How much energy does moist ground need for evaporation to occur? On Earth, insolation is about 1200 watts per square meter, Lamontagne says.

Actually, 164 watts per square meter is the day/night average for Earths energy, says Geoffrey Landis, a NASA physicist (and science fiction writer).

Wait, Landis says. Actually, the Earths surface is convex, so it doesnt absorb as much heat. The worldships rings will be concave, meaning energy absorption will be a lot higher. So for now, they figure, 240 watts per square meter.

The subgroup around the other table is figuring out life: flora, fauna, and the nutrient cycles that sustain them. This group is more crowded, but quieter. Three are working out the carbon, nitrogen, and phosphorous cycles. Each of the remaining has been assigned a batch of plants and animals by an evolutionary biologist from Sloan-Kettering Memorial Hospital named Cassidy Cobbs. She is the groups Noah.

Mosquitoes, no; cockroaches, yes. Wolves, no; dogs, yes. Rats, crickets, tarantulas: yes, yes, yes. Except no tarantulas from Australia. In fact, most of Australia is right out, doomed to remain Earthbound with everything else too venomous, fanged, large, or aggressive. The top predator is a Maine Coon cat, Cobbs says. Crops are exactly what you would expect: grains, legumes, tubers, brassicas, lettuces, and nightshades.

I peek over Cobbs shoulder at her master list and freak out a little bit. It includes neither cacao nor coffee plants. Who the hell would want to jump on a spaceship without coffee and chocolate? Later, in the hospitality suite, I corner one of Cobbs team members and ask her: What the hell?

We discussed both crops, Ashleigh Hughes, a high school student, assures me. Both plants could grow along a rings elevated ridges, so long as that ring has a tropical climate.

High school student and TVIW attendee Ashleigh Hughes works out the ecological requirements for various plants and animals in the worldship. Joey O’Loughlin

The table next to the biology group is unpeopled, covered with backpacks, open laptops, and a few books. Includinga copy of Kim Stanley Robinsons novel Aurora. Which I find a little bit surprising, given (no spoilers) Robinsons book about a worldship trip to the Tau Ceti system portrays interstellar missions as dismal and doomed.

Science fiction and space culture enjoy a mutualistic relationship. During presentations, speakers often preface digressions with phases like This next bit would be a cool idea for any science fiction writers in the audience to play with Every physicist, engineer, and enthusiast I spoke to said their career had been, and still is, inspired by books, TV shows, movies, comics about space travel. The physicist Les Johnson, who MCd the talks, is deputy director of NASAs Advanced Concepts Office, principal investigator of a solar-sailed probe set to explore an asteroid in 2018, and, yes, a sci-fi writer. He told me science fiction is part escapism, part aspiration, and part inspiration, bringing broader acceptance to the dream of exploring the stars. Preach.

(I should add that not everybody agrees with this notion of science fiction as an aspirational genre. My editor sees science fiction as primarily a fantastical lens for writers to comment on contemporary society. I posed this alternative hypothesis to science fiction author Jack McDevitt, who counterposited that my editor must have been an English major.)

The Bernal Sphere is a spaceship design with a spherical living area. Population: 10,000. NASA Ames Research Center

It will cost how much?

One night I asked a table full of engineers if they could foresee an inflection point when the relatively flat line of space funding would start arcing into a trajectory that could fund human interstellar flight. This group, which earlier had been holding a graduate-level discussion on the combustive properties of superchilled rocket fuel, basically shrugged. Maybe if there was an impending asteroid strike?

Finally, a retired nuclear engineer sitting across the table uncrossed his arms and growled. Let us make the assumption that we do go into space and build a habitat. If you go back in time from that point and look at a line leading back to the present, we are currently so close to zero that they wont know where to start the graph, he says. $20 billion, $50 billion a year is so far down the graph that its almost in the noise. We have to somehow generate ourselves off the zero point.

No one knows what it’ll take to convince human beings to pay for space.

Robert Kennedy III has thought a lot about this inflection point. He says it will come from a societal change, when a critical mass of people commit themselves to a sustained, multigeneration, self-perpetuating institution committed to the cause. Something like the Catholic Church, or maybe because this is an engineering problem, the Dutch dike builders.

Robert Kennedy III.Joey O’Loughlin

Kennedy III was born in Staten Island and spent his college years in California preparing for the Cold War to become a hot war (he still carries a nuclear effects calculator in his right breast pocket). After stints building robots that work in nuclear reactors, writing computer code, and advising the US House of Representatives on space, he wound up in Oak Ridge, where he consults large renewable energy projectslike an Ethiopian geothermal tap. He also owns a business that publishes media on Russian space technology.

One of Kennedy IIIs coauthored geoengineering ideasa brute-force fix to global warming that involves installing a gigantic shade at the Lagrange point between Earth and the sungot him an invitation to the the International Association of Astronautics Symposium of Realistic Near-Term Advanced Scientific Space Missions. Doesnt matter; point is, it was a conference in the Italian Alps. The crowd loved the presentation and especially applauded the plans practicality. (Practicality among engineers typically refers to the soundness of the underlying engineering, not cost or logistics).

After his talk, Kennedy III was standing on a hotel balcony with Les Johnson and astrophysicist Greg Matloff from the New York City College of Technology. They hit upon this idea of a practical, grounded space community based in the Tennessee Valley, and scheduled the first meeting. They have been meeting every 18 months or so since. The group takes the practicality thing seriously and submits its projects (such as the worldship) to peer-reviewed publications like the Journal of the British Interplanetary Society.

So they do not become a ghetto of insular rocket dweebs, Kennedy III tries to invite younger people, and people from other disciplinesbiologists, chemists, philosophers. Various subcultures who want to get into space, they might do some original thinking on their own, but then what? Whats their next step? Kennedy III says. If you want to actually do something you have to generate a consensus.

One very early morning, or night, or, whatever, it is 2 am in the hospitality suite and Kennedy III is trying to explain the origins of TVIW over the sound of two guys playing space-themed country songs on acoustic guitar (Shes Nothing But Trouble, Shes Just Like Tea-Teb”). Anyway, space culture can be sectarian, or it has been in the past, says Kennedy III. Just about every space group from the 1960s onward has been reaching for the heavens. Their ideologies might have differed. Like, space should be free from the government, so lets cut NASA out of the deal. Or, space should be for whoever can get there first, so lets help out the Soviets. Or, space should be for those who deserve it, so lets build a Randian refuge up in Lagrange Point 5. The groups form and schism, and never really get anywhere. TVIW is trying to stay outside all of that. They just want to go to space.

Two members of the space solar power working track discuss a timetable for launching an interstellar probe.Joey O’Loughlin

No-Go for Liftoff

The evening of the Tennessee Valley Interstellar Workshops opening reception, attendees gather around a projection TV in the corner of a hotel party hall to watch a SpaceX launch livestream.

Customary silence at the one minute mark, then the 10-second countdown, and then the top-down camera angle shows a series of fiery bursts. Before I can begin holding my breath for liftoff, a space enthusiast in the back of the room named Lorraine Glenn pipes up.That doesnt look good. That does not look good. Thats three in a row,” and the room collectively sighs. The chatter comes back up, and even as I am still thinking this launch looks promising, the guy next to me explains that the launch is cancelled, probably because SpaceX couldnt get their oxygen chilled properly. But he cant be sure, so dont quote him on the record.

Except he was right. No-go for liftoff. Problem with the liquid oxygen. Space: still hard.

Les Johnson giving opening remarks at TVIW. Joey O’Loughlin

And the next morning I am up by 7 am and eat a mountain of Southern breakfast and hustle to the big lecture hall for the 8 am opening remarks. Johnsongets up onstage and gives his customary disclaimer. Yes, he is an employee of NASA, but today he is here as a private citizen and space enthusiast who took vacation from his job to attend.

He stands in behind a podium decorated with the Tennessee Valley Interstellar Workshop star-and-rocket swoosh logo and gives a shout out to the Valley Conservancy of Huntsville, Alabama, whose performance of the Tennessee Valley Interstellar Workshop orchestral theme music had been playing just before he took the stage.

Then he thanks the volunteers and points out that even they did not get a free ride to the TVIW, because this is a labor of love. Peoples chairs squeak because they are nodding along or maybe just reaching for their coffee mugs, but either way Johnson is on message. This is a room of people dedicated to a better future for our species and our planet, and he is so proud to be a part of what is contributing to that. It is all a part of the bigger goal: to be, simply, a footnote.

That is all most of these people want, really. Forget even being retconned into the decor like the trains next door. They just want to be in the references, a TVIW journal article buried in the citations of a boring history of a human colony on a distant planet, circling a distant star. Someday.

Multiple two-cylinder colonies aimed toward the sun. Population: over a million. NASA Ames Research Center

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from The Far-Out Summit Where Geniuses Learn to Build Starships