#fancy text image generator

[ivysangel]

imagine the sexual tension between you and college au!jason and y’all finally take care of it during a one-night stand at some random ass party and the TENSION ONLY GETS WORSE ⁉️ like first y’all were ignoring how bad y’all wanted to fuck each other and NOW you have to act like he wasn’t just devouring your pussy a few nights ago

-🦦

tutor!jason who your teacher sets you up to study with twice a week since he's acing the class. the first time you meet, it's in the library, and you almost sit down next to a different guy because jason doesn't look at all like the type to know the ins and outs of gothic lit. if he wasn't nose-deep in mary shelley's frankenstein you would've assumed he was a jock doing recon and looking for some pussy.

but he's not; he's actually really kind and smart and also really fucking hot. your tutoring sessions go on longer than scheduled because you spend more time staring at him than you should. you're actually kind of embarrassed about it until you catch him staring at you one day with a familiar look, one you'd given him many, many times when he wasn't looking.

from then on, things are pretty tense between you two, not in an angry kind of way, but more of an unprecedented level of horniness kind of way. and the growth of your friendship is temporarily stunted because of how badly you want to fuck each other.

but it all comes to a head at some dumb frat party. you're a little buzzed but still lucid enough to know that jason's out of place in this environment. he hates frats, hates the culture around it, hates the fact that he gets mistaken for one so often.

so why the fuck is he flirting with some random sorority girl who's trying way too hard to keep his attention. you're thinking to yourself, "he's not gonna fuck you." but you're not actually 100% sure about that, so you find your way over to him just in case.

his attention immediately shifts to you and little miss greek row makes herself sparse when she realizes his eyes are locked on you and only you.

you're making conversation, but it's kind of awkward; you were clearly green with envy over the prospect of him fucking someone else despite having no claim to him or his dick, and now you were just hitting him with a "sooooo fancy seeing you here!" and he's just looking at you; peering down at you with this look in his eyes that just so dark. unlike anything you've seen on his face before. and then he's finishing off his drink and asking if you want to go somewhere quieter.

ok, so boom. he's leading you up the stairs and into an empty room, and if either of you were sober or not blinded by an intense need to fuck the other, you probably wouldn't have hooked up on some frat guy's unwashed sheets.

and using "hook up" is generous because you're the only one that got anything out of it. he was pretty much hiking your dress up to eat you out before the door was fully closed, and he continued to stay there, between your legs, with his mouth sucking on your clit until someone knocked on the door and killed the vibe. #jasontoddcertifiedmunch

you thought the tension before was bad, but it gets so much worse. you start skipping your tutoring sessions, and the few you do show up to end early because you can barely look at him. you can't get the image of him licking his lips after eating you out out of your head, and it was beginning to drive you insane. 

he was also going insane, but for a different reason. while you were scared that it ruined your friendship, he was craving you more and more with each passing day, wondering where you'd be if you'd gone all the way. he was on the verge of knocking out the teeth of the asshole that interrupted you and shooting you a "u up?" text in the middle of the night.

[omorithedreamermod]

FEBRUARY DEVLOG - 2

Though it'd be fun to showcase a little bit of my portrait process, even if it's not specific! Anyways, it's time for the fourth DEVLOG...and...

IMPORTANT INFORMATION:

I got sick. I am still sick. This unfortunately has thrown a wrench in my productivity despite my best efforts. March release will still be possible, it just probably won't be as early as I was originally hoping, sadly. I hope I'll be back to full productivity soon. On the bright side, basically all contributions made by others are complete, so everything left to do is just on me. The list is a lot but I chose to do 85% of the mod, so it is on me to see it through!

That's why, rather than listing progress this week, I'll just list everything that still needs to be done.

THINGS LEFT TO DO:

General writing is complete, I just need to do some more flavor text and a bunch of NPC dialogue to certain locations that got completed later on.

There's a couple bits of sprite art, but barely any. Most of that is completely done.

There is only one more map to be made. A super small one! :D

Three music tracks are still pending. The full OST for the PRELUDE (including the 8 from the DEMO) is 48 tracks! I named them all recently it was very fun. Everyone worked hard!

Cutscene writing is complete up until a certain point. There's only one more section that needs writing. But, a lot of cutscenes still need to be programmed, so I really hope I can get better soon so I can do all of that. There's also other general programming to be done that I need to get around to.

BASIL real world portraits are done. SUNNY's are not. He doesn't need as many as BASIL, though.

I still have a couple NPCS to hand draw. Nothing fancy, though.

Badges all need to be made and then implemented. Wish me luck, there's quite a few!

After that, the playtest will be able to be sent off to people to bugtest while I then continue onto:

Drawing three whole cutscenes. Two on the longer side, one shorter.

(If time allows) A still image of DREAMER holding a thing! (Its a secret)

A certain separate thing needs to be completely written, then have a bunch of things drawn for it.

Credits video!!! Very important!!!!!

After everything above is implemented, I need to draw the additional art for the trailer...

CONCLUSION:

Hoping I can get back on track soon. I'm still sick and I'm frustrated about that. I'm really hoping I get better soon, as it's really set me behind on my intended schedule. Still, the goal is for full PRELUDE release in March, and I believe it's completely possible as long as I recover sooner than later. I know it might seem like a lot, but I did the DEMO all on my own. Trust me! March release is the plan! And the help I did get with sprite art (so many npcs!!!), OST(so many tracks...), some maps, and being able to ask people questions about programming when I'm lost has been absolutely wonderful. I wouldn't have been able to do everything on my own this quickly.

Though, I do hope after PRELUDE and I revamp the signups, I'll get even more help, because the plans for the future are quite hefty haha. I'll scale back if I need to, of course. Either way, I'm really excited, even if I am anxious and want it out ASAP. I'm so excited for everyone to see what THE DREAMER is truly going to be like!

[tatsumi-rin]

Anyone else thought about this?

With the popularity of Mouthwashing as a game, I've seen people who talk about it talk about the mouthwash itself as a metaphor for Jimmy (and they're definitely correct in their read imo), but dear god NO ONE is talking about it as a potential metaphor for Pony Express itself as a company.

This is an item considered to be an essential. It is a dental hygiene product dentists would generally recommend you have. 99.9% of bacteria gone - but this one is loaded with sugar. Using this is going to be detrimental to its own cause and probably worse than using no mouthwash at all.

Pony Express? No matter your start, it seems like a good, stable job and a promising future. People will always need goods transported to other planets. It even has a cute mascot representing pride in their work that they sell toys of to kids!

Butttttt, the caveats. Oh boy, the caveats. All of those cute images are done to soften the blow of little red pieces of text about how doing things to the point of basically existing means your credits are going to get docked - something that's just as much Aperture Science-esque dark humor as horrible foreshadowing. Late delivery? Docked. Resting in any manner for more than five hours? Docked. Using medical support in any manner? Docked. REPORTING ISSUES TO HR??? MOTHER. FUCKING. DOCKED.

And trying to avoid any of those dockings; those detriments? Pretty much impossible, and that would spell doom for anyone: including members of a certain ship. With every one of those rules, if they survived that payout would be hilariously low. The usual rules; made by out of touch people in fancy suits.

The members of the Tulpar all (mostly) had reasons to be there, even at radically different life stages. Reasons why they needed the work, and reasons why it should fulfill those reasons and enrich their lives.

It was meant to be Jimmy's ticket away from struggling on earth. It was meant to be Daisuke gaining direction in life. It was meant to be Anya finally getting into medical school. It was meant to be Swansea gaining a stable and fulfilling life as he made it into sobriety, and it was meant to be Curly making it further up into his career path with glowing words of praise.

As per capitalism's usual spiel that we were even shown in the game itself via public domain cartoon, taking this job was meant to be joyous opportunity and innovation for their lives; but with so many flaws in the system around them around them - including the words on those posters - just trying to find benefit in the system they needed in order to survive was nothing more than fatal poison. The dead pixel, the sugar, and the 0.1% all working together.

[rosewiltd]

rpc trends i have lived through: a compendium

this is by no means hate to trends ( "trends" in this case being something a large majority of people have participated in at some point, whether they're good or bad - not for me to judge ) bc i am a slave to the aesthetic as much as the next person. i've just been in the trenches, is all.

no promos, no formatting, no icons, no tagging system. we live in the wild west and if you can find someone to write with? godspeed.

small text and that's it for formatting. maybe a little italics for flavour. the beginnings of "omg you're so elitist for this" surfaces.

themes by manatopia ( if you were in the anime rpc ) or octomoosey ( if you favoured the rl fcs ).

simple one-word straightforward tagging system with no fancy text or symbols. ( ie. appearance, musings, closet, etc )

more complex tagging system, with symbols and quotes/lyrics using a generated font the tumblr tagging system can't actually read

one-panel simple promos with full resumes in the description ( ie. 10+ years experience, literate, etc )

2-panel simple promos

3 and 4-panel promos of varying complexity

the signerica font

text promos with icons

big, unedited gifs of varying sizes and colorings used interchangably

smaller gifs, but same as above

no icons

simple icons with simple one-line borders and whatever the fuck that checker texture was that everyone and their grandmother used

triggers? and you tag them???? wild. never heard of. we stumble blindly through content like god intended.

follower milestone/giveaways - essentially your speech at the oscars and here's a little incentive to keep following me. usually for large milestones like 100, 500, 1k, and 3k followers. if you had more than that, you had killed god.

photoshopped replies - as in, we wrote up replies into a graphic

fancy image dividers, usually something small and ornate and centered, the precursor to the dividers we use today.

container themes, with the containers getting progressively smaller. if you didn't use agirlingrey's themes, were you even an rper? quickly followed by container themes with pop-ups. look out. don't forget the floating orbs. or the little banners on the side that told you who the blog was for and the writer's name.

which reminds me, if you weren't using the spark/fire overlay on promos/graphics/etc, you were excommunicated from the rpc and sent to the dungeons.

magic anons. usually of the sexual variety. no, my muse will not be horny for 24 hours straight and they sure won't have an orgasm every time someone says their name, thank you very much. sometimes it was fun though. your muse as a neko? like, nya.

y'all i haven't even gotten past 2015 yet.... the rest is under the cut. feel free to add your own. im sure im forgetting so much.

burn blogs. enough said.

positivity blogs to counteract the burn blogs, but ultimately became a breeding ground for jealousy because the same three people were endlessly complimented. it's the thought that counts though!

memes/sentence starters, but they were made on your own rp blog and if it garnered 20k notes, there was nothing you could do to stop it. rip your activity feed. we learned. boy, did we learn.

prompt/aesthetic sideblogs.

missing e, the predecessor to xkit.

xkit. then new xkit. then xkit rewritten. missing e let us down, but we won't let this fucker die.

url trends im lumping together: latin urls, "of___", urlisms, random 'x's tacked on before and/or after the url or in place of a vowel. 'c's tacked in place of e's and o's. numbers in place of letters. changing your url just for holidays/seasons.

graphics that were either desaturated or so vibrant they were crispy

themes by eternalworks

themes by hyruleshop, isaworks, or other major creators.

the rise of callouts, for better or worse

the rise of purity culture, for better or worse

receipt/callout blogs

purple prose

extra af formatting ( no hate ), coloured text, spacing, etc.

elaborate graphics.

mains. affiliates. people you should be following. the successor of 'follow friday' and milestone 'thank you' announcements.

dni lists, for better or worse.

multimuse blogs

rp sideblogs

the current trend of ripping a canon from their og universe and re-writing them as an oc bc shut up that's why

probably a whole heck of a lot more i cannot remember. i've blocked out the trauma.

[deadgiants]

How to Paint on Leather Jackets:

A Relatively beginner friendly guide.

Things you will need:

- A leather jacket.

-Card stock ($6 for 50 sheets at staples, or steal it from work)

-Xacto knife ($12 or wander around an art campus for a few minutes, and you'll find one)

- A surface to cut on (cutting mats are relatively affordable, but a flat piece of glass or ceramic will probably also work fine. The mat I use for this is a tempered glass one)

Paint markers. the main thing is to make sure you are NOT using oil-based paint. Some brands make both oil and water/acrylic based pens, and it can be hard to tell which is which at a glance.

Ok lets start!

Find an image you want to use. Once you get used to it, you can get extremely detailed results with this method, but for now we'll use a more simple example.

Ok, I don't really like the common Mischief Brew patch logo, so were using the twxt from this album instead. I'm doing this all at work, so you can also see that you don't need any fancy software for this. I'm using MS Photos for this whole process.

So crop the image close to your text

Fiddle with the settings in edit if you want, i usually think making it b&w with a higher contrast helps.

Now we're gonna cut. With stencils, start with fine details near the center of the design and work outward. This way you keep as much solid paper around your cuts as possible, which helps prevent ripping or deformation and mis-cuts. I also usualy cut in two stages, all horizontal cuts and vertical cuts.

Heres the big difference between what we're doing here and making a regular stencil. We don't care about islands. You see the empty spaces in the B, the e's, the S, etc. We arent cutting that out, we're taking the whole shape and we'll add that shit back in later.

So now we cut it out, we have something like this:

You can see how anything I came across that seemed mildly irritating to cut out, I ignored.

Thin lines connecting parts? We can draw a line. Islands? We can do the basic shape and refine it later. The point is that this stencil will put the right shapes together with the right scale and spacing.

Next we'll put it on the jacket.

Tape that shit down, you don't want if moving more than it's already going to. Next, trace the outline, that's it, then remove the stencil and burn it or something.

Should have somethong like this

Now by hand, fill in the stencil. I advise tracing the outline again as you fill. It helps prevent overflow. If you feel confident, try and build the empty space here instead of later.

So it's filled in and we have a general shape. I recommend at least two layers with 10-15 min dry time between. More layers might look a little better but also run the risk of cracking if it gets too thick (this ended up needing 3 layers).

You may have noticed that the outline looks kinda shit, here's the main thing we're gonna do here, editing.

I hit the photo limit here, so hang on for the next part.

[ashlynniis-bracketeers]

(Though I am keeping "that" as vague as possible, this still contains spoilers for Limbus Company's Murder on the WARP Express Intervallo. You have been warned.)

Had this idea in my head for a while now. People had already done jokes about Don possibly being the oldest Sinner, though more to juxtapose her chaotic gremlin energy and not... well, "that" which was revealed in Murder on the WARP Express lmao.

Basically me just throwing silliness about who should be the youngest Sinner, based on comedic potential.

Who do you think would be funniest as the Actual Youngest Sinner? 83c

Also, read the word "Toobman" in Tyl Regor's voice for the intended effect lmao. Yes, "Gear Aging Moment" is indeed a Guilty Gear reference, I couldn't help myself.

Image text (without fancy text formatting like italics or strikethrough) will be under a cut.

So, ever since... that was revealed, I just have to wonder...

Which Sinner Would be the Funniest to Reveal as the Youngest?

Sinclair

Being the youngest even with supernatural entities on the team would be frustrating for him (and funny)

Him being so murderey while still being so young is funny

He's generally just inherently funny

Faust

Rather naive without connection to the Faust Discord™ (somebody toddler-proof Mephi)

Associated with Alchemy, Homunculi, and the Children in the Flash abnormality (possible Toobman?)

Meursault

Don directly calls him "young Meursault" (knew the second she saw him)

No wonder he seems to have so much trouble with people, he's still trying to learn how to people

It could be a rubberneck-inducing Gear Aging Moment™ which would be hilarious

(I'm totally not biased what are you talking about)

[danieyells]

Tokyo Debunker WickChat Icons

as of posting this no chat with the Mortkranken ghouls has been released, so their icons are not here. If I forget to update when they come out, send me an ask!

Jin's is black, but not the default icon. An icon choice that says "do not percieve me."

Tohma's is the Frostheim crest. Very official, he probably sends out a lot of official Frostheim business group texts.

Kaito's is a doodle astronaut! He has the same astronaut on his phone case! He canonically likes stars, but I wonder if this is a doodle he made himself and put it on his phone case or something?

Luca's is maybe a family crest?

Alan's is the default icon. He doesn't know how to set one up, if I were to take an educated guess. . . .

Leo's is himself, looking cute and innocent. Pretty sure this is an altered version of the 'Leo's is himself, looking cute and innocent. Pretty sure this is an altered version of the 'DATA DELETED' panel from Episode 2 Chapter 2.

Sho's is Bonnie!!! Fun fact, in Episode 2 Chapter 2 you can see that Bonnie has her name spraypainted/on a decal on her side!

Haru's is Peekaboo! Such a mommy blogger choice.

Towa's is some sort of flowers! I don't know flowers well enough to guess what kind though.

Ren's is the "NAW" poster! "NAW" is the in-world version of Jaws that Ren likes, and you can see the same poster over his bed.

Taiga's is a somewhat simplified, greyscale version of the Sinostra crest with a knife stabbing through it and a chain looping behind it. There are also roses growing behind it. Basically says "I Am The Boss Of Sinostra."

Romeo's is likely a brand logo. It looks like it's loosely inspired by the Gucci logo? I don't follow things like this, this honestly could be his family's business logo now that I think about it.

Ritsu's is just himself. Very professional.

Subaru's is hydrangeas I think! Hydrangeas in Japan represent a lot of things apparently, like fidelity, sincerity, remorse, and forgiveness, which all fit Subaru pretty well I think lol. . . .

Haku's is a riverside? I wonder if this is near where his family is from? It looks familiar, but a quick search isn't bringing anything up that would tell me where it is. . .

Zenji's is his professional logo I guess? The kanji used is 善 "Zen" from his first name! It means "good" or "right" or "virtue"!

Edward's appears to be a night sky full of stars. Not sure if the big glowing one is the moon or what. . . .

Rui's is a mixed drink! Assuming this is an actual cocktail of some sort, somebody else can probably figure out what it is. Given the AI generated nature of several images in the game, it's probably not real lol.

Lyca's is his blankie! Do not wash it. Or touch it. It's all he's got.

Yuri's is his signature! Simple and professional, but a little unique.

Jiro's is a winged asklepian/Rod of Asclepius in front of a blue cross? ⚕ Not sure what's at the top of the rod. A fancy syringe plunger maybe? It's very much a symbol of medicine and healing, so his is also very professional. Considering he sends you texts regarding your appointments, it might be the symbol of Mortkranken's medical office?

These are from the NPCs the PC was in the "Concert Buds" group chat! The icons are pretty generic, a cat silhouette staring at a starry sky(SickleMoon), a pink, blue, and yellow gradient swirl(Pickles), a cute panda(Corby), and spider lilies(Mina). Red spider lilies in Japan are a symbol of death--and Mina of course cursed the PC, allegedly cursing them to death in a year.

[spocks-kaathyra]

thoughts about the Cardassian writing system

I've thinking about the Cardassian script as shown on screen and in beta canon and such and like. Is it just me or would it be very difficult to write by hand?? Like.

I traced some of this image for a recent drawing I did and like. The varying line thicknesses?? The little rectangular holes?? It's not at all intuitive to write by hand. Even if you imagine, like, a different writing implement—I suppose a chisel-tip pen would work better—it still seems like it wasn't meant to be handwritten. Which has a few possible explanations.

Like, maybe it's just a fancy font for computers, and handwritten text looks a little different. Times New Roman isn't very easily written by hand either, right? Maybe the line thickness differences are just decorative, and it's totally possible to convey the same orthographic information with the two line thicknesses of a chisel-tip pen, or with no variation in line thickness at all.

A more interesting explanation, though, and the one I thought of first, is that this writing system was never designed to be handwritten. This is a writing system developed in Cardassia's digital age. Maybe the original Cardassian script didn’t digitize well, so they invented a new one specifically for digital use? Like, when they invented coding, they realized that their writing system didn’t work very well for that purpose. I know next to nothing about coding, but I cannot imagine doing it using Chinese characters. So maybe they came up with a new writing system that worked well for that purpose, and when computer use became widespread, they stuck with it. 

Or maybe the script was invented for political reasons! Maybe Cardassia was already fairly technologically advanced when the Cardassian Union was formed, and, to reinforce a cohesive national identity, they developed a new standardized national writing system. Like, y'know, the First Emperor of Qin standardizing hanzi when he unified China, or that Korean king inventing hangul. Except that at this point in Cardassian history, all official records were digital and typing was a lot more common than handwriting, so the new script was designed to be typed and not written. Of course, this reform would be slower to reach the more rural parts of Cardassia, and even in a technologically advanced society, there are people who don't have access to that technology. But I imagine the government would be big on infrastructure and education, and would make sure all good Cardassian citizens become literate. And old regional scripts would stop being taught in schools and be phased out of digital use and all the kids would grow up learning the digital script.

Which is good for the totalitarian government! Imagine you can only write digitally. On computers. That the government can monitor. If you, like, write a physical letter and send it to someone, then it's possible for the contents to stay totally private. But if you send an email, it can be very easily intercepted. Especially if the government is controlling which computers can be manufactured and sold, and what software is in widespread use, etc. 

AND. Historical documents are now only readable for scholars. Remember that Korean king that invented hangul? Before him, Korea used to use Chinese characters too. And don't get me wrong, hangul is a genius writing system! It fits the Korean language so much better than Chinese characters did! It increased literacy at incredible rates! But by switching writing systems, they broke that historical link. The average literate Chinese person can read texts that are thousands of years old. The average literate Korean person can't. They'd have to specifically study that field, learn a whole new writing system. So with the new generation of Cardassian youths unable to read historical texts, it's much easier for the government to revise history. The primary source documents are in a script that most people can't read. You just trust the translation they teach you in school. In ASIT it's literally a crucial plot point that the Cardassian government revised history! Wouldn't it make it soooo much easier for them if only very few people can actually read the historical accounts of what happened.

I guess I am thinking of this like Chinese characters. Like, all the different Chinese "dialects" being written with hanzi, even though otherwise they could barely be considered the same language. And even non-Sinitic languages that historically adopted hanzi, like Japanese and Korean and Vietnamese. Which worked because hanzi is a logography—it encodes meaning, not sound, so the same word in different languages can be written the same. It didn’t work well! Nowadays, Japanese has made significant modifications and Korean has invented a new writing system entirely and Vietnamese has adapted a different foreign writing system, because while hanzi could write their languages, it didn’t do a very good job at it. But the Cardassian government probably cares more about assimilation and national unity than making things easier for speakers of minority languages. So, Cardassia used to have different cultures with different languages, like the Hebitians, and maybe instead of the Union forcing everyone to start speaking the same language, they just made everyone use the same writing system. Though that does seem less likely than them enforcing a standard language like the Federation does. Maybe they enforce a standard language, and invent the new writing system to increase literacy for people who are newly learning it.

And I can imagine it being a kind of purely digital language for some people? Like if you’re living on a colonized planet lightyears away from Cardassia Prime and you never have to speak Cardassian, but your computer’s interface is in Cardassian and if you go online then everyone there uses Cardassian. Like people irl who participate in the anglophone internet but don’t really use English in person because they don’t live in an anglophone country. Except if English were a logographic writing system that you could use to write your own language. And you can’t handwrite it, if for whatever reason you wanted to. Almost a similar idea to a liturgical language? Like, it’s only used in specific contexts and not really in daily life. In daily life you’d still speak your own language, and maybe even handwrite it when needed. I think old writing systems would survive even closer to the imperial core (does it make sense to call it that?), though the government would discourage it. I imagine there’d be a revival movement after the Fire, not only because of the cultural shift away from the old totalitarian Cardassia, but because people realize the importance of having a written communication system that doesn’t rely on everyone having a padd and electricity and wifi.

[ctrlsugar]

CTRLSUGAR'S 1x1 ROLEPLAY SERVER (V1)

below is a guide for the channels, as well as tips and tricks for using this template and a few recommendations for bots. ( link & image heavy )

NOTE: this is one version of the 1x1 template server i use, i will post another one if this gets traction !! feel free to request other server ideas if you have any !!

GET THE SERVER | FREE ( tips appreciated !! )

BOT SUGGESTIONS.

tupperbox ( for proxying your muses for discord roleplay )

threadtracker ( for tracking threads on discord )

TIPS.

messletters ( for fancy text )

this entire tag by @dayslily ( for discord tips & tricks )

turn on community for the forum features ( linked to tutorial )

OUT OF CHARACTER.

🦋 : chatter / a channel for general discussion and chatting, not roleplay related - your main channel for ooc communication.

✨ : commentary / a channel for discussion about your currently roleplay threads, where you can chat (scream) about your plots.

🤖 : tupperbox / a channel for setting up your tupperbox proxies ( see bot suggestions above )

✅ : tracker / a channel for tracking hour thread, either by using the thread tracker bot, or just posting in it regularly.

DEVELOPMENT.

💖 : musings / a channel for posing musings, links to character & ship musings, pinterest posts, etc.

💡 : plotting / a channel for posting plot ideas & suggestions, and for discussing potential plots.

🔗 : links / a channel for posting links, could be playlists, pinterest boards, images, or blog tags for you ships & muses.

📰 : headcanons / a channel for posting headcanons & other important information for you ships & muses.

SHIP NAME.

you can make multiple of this category, one for each ship or one for each verse, depending how you want to format your server.

📸 : socials / a channel to post in character social media posts, (i usually pin templates for tweets, instagram posts, spotify now playing, etc )

📱 : texts / a channel for text messages between muses.

💭 : thread • 001 / a channel for a thread between muses - can be duplicated for multiple threads.

[peapodsinspace]

Usopp week day 7!

[Image ID in alt text]

For the final day of Usopp week, I wrote a fic!

Prev

Read it on ao3 here!

No Worries

by yours truly ;]

Rating: general audiences

Warnings: none

Tags: fluff & humor, emotional hurt/comfort, it ends good tho dw

Description:

“Usopp considered himself a bit of a worrier, among other things. An over-reactor, some may say.

Something he’d made peace with, really.

No big deal.

This felt like a teeny-tiny big deal.”

Usopp liked to consider himself an observant person.

   It sort of came with the territory of being a sniper, he thought, being that he had to keep a sharp eye for making long shots. And that just happened to bleed into his day-to-day, too.

   There wasn’t exactly much to observe on the Sunny.

   The fish in the aquarium were neat, of course, and there was always some kind of bug on Nami’s tangerine trees.

   But even then, after sailing on the Sunny for so long, and with many of the same people before, on the Merry, there wasn’t really anything new to see.

   The same old, same old.

  Which was fine, as far as Usopp was concerned! They had plenty of weird things happening anyway while sailing the Grand Line!

   The ship and crew being the same as always was a comfort, something Usopp could count on.

   Usually.

   Usopp also considered himself a bit of a worrier, among other things. An over-reactor, some may say.

   Something he’d made peace with, really. No big deal.

   This felt like a teeny-tiny big deal.

   Usopp leaned further against the back of the couch, staring off at the all the fish in the aquarium.

   Everything had started out fine. He woke up at his usual time and shuffled into the galley right before breakfast was done.

 

//

 

   Usopp pushed open the galley door, happy to leave the early morning chill behind him in favor of the warmth coming from inside.

   Robin, Brook, and Zoro were all awake, already sitting at the table.

   Usopp knew that, with the exception of Sanji, Brook was the earliest riser out of the crew.

   Robin tended to be awake quite early too, sometimes because she hadn’t even gone to sleep in the first place the night before.

   For Zoro, it depended on what time his night watch was at. But even then he didn’t often sleep in too much.

   And then there was of course Sanji, who woke earlier than any of them so he could make breakfast. Usopp would occasionally be awake in the very early mornings, even much before the sun rises. But no matter how early he’d woken up, Sanji always seemed to be in the galley offering him some tea or a snack.

   Usopp himself had a very inconsistent sleep schedule, in no small part due to the amount of times he stayed up late working on his projects.

   “Good morning, Mr. Longnose,” Robin called.

   Usopp shot her a smile, taking his usual seat at the table (in-between Zoro and Sanji’s seats, which tended to end interestingly).

   Luckily the cook was, well, cooking so Usopp didn’t have to worry about being in the middle of a fight at least for a while.

   “Morning!” he responded.

   Brook greeted him as well, before he and Robin turned back to their conversation. Zoro just gave him an incredibly neutral look that Usopp assumed was supposed to be a greeting, too.

   Usopp glanced back at Sanji, sipping on the glass of water that the was left out for him.

   The cook seemed to be hard at work on at least three different dishes, going back and forth around the kitchen.

   From the powdered sugar set out on the counter, Usopp assumed they were having more of those fancy pancakes Sanji liked to make.

   Not that the sniper was complaining, by any means!

   But still that didn’t explain the batter he was mixing up, since Usopp could spot another bowl that had pancake batter in it.

   “Are you making dinner ahead of time, Sanji?” He asked, after a moment.

   The cook paused, arm going still from where it had been whisking vigorously. “What makes you think that?” He asked cooly.

   Usopp blinked, surprised by Sanji’s seriousness. “Well, it just seems like you have a lot of bowls and stuff out…”

   Sanji bristled. “What do you know? I’m the cook, aren’t I?”

   “Yeah. Sorry, Sanji,” he said, placatingly.

   “Whatever,” he huffed, somehow whisking with even more vigor than before.

   Talk about a bad mood…

   Usopp shook his head, accidentally catching Robin’s eye. He glanced away from him, saying something to Brook.

   When the two’s conversation picked up again, Usopp realized they had stopped talking when he asked Sanji about his cooking.

   Weird.

   Maybe Sanji had been in a bad mood all morning to they were watching Usopp dig his own grave?

   Usopp didn’t pay it much mind. His crewmates did tend to be very weird, he thought with a smile.

 

///

 

   But that was just the start.

   All things considered, breakfast had gone fairly normally.

   A typical amount of chaos, between Luffy’s rubbery food stealing hands, and snippy remarks coming back and forth from Zoro and Sanji.

   But again, that was only the start.

 

///

 

Usopp handed the stack he made of his and Luffy’s plates over to Sanji, watching the man take them over to the sink.

   Sanji seemed to be in a slightly better mood– or really, he just at his normal amount of pissed-off.

   Still, just to be safe…

   “Hey Sanji, want some help with the dishes?” Usopp asked, smiling.

   It was partially an attempt to put Sanji in a better mood, yes, but really Usopp was curious about what might’ve put the cook in a bad mood to start with. And he was lucky enough to be one of the people Sanji would talk (somewhat) honestly about his feelings to, anyway.

   Sanji froze again, in the same way as before, seeming to take a moment to come up with a response.

   “I already said I’d help with the dishes!” Nami chirped, having done, to Usopp’s knowledge at least, no such thing.

   Suddenly, Usopp thought Nami ought to sit down for a bit, maybe go have Chopper give her a checkup.

   Because there was no world where Nami would volunteer to do dishes without anyone else’s help. And there was truly no world where Sanji would agree to have her help him with–

   “Yes, thank you, Nami-swa~an! You’re so sweet…” Sanji sing-songed.

   Wait, what the hell?

    Usopp was ushered out of the kitchen after that.

 

///

 

   So not only was Sanji in some kind of mood, Nami was acting weirdly, too.

   It sort of felt like they were trying to keep Usopp away for some reason.

   Crewmates’ odd behavior aside, Usopp did have better things to do, which is why he made his way over to his garden.

 

///

 

   Usopp sat on his knees, plucking up weeds from his planters with gloved hands.

   A cool breeze blew by him. The branches of Nami’s tangerine trees swayed with that familiar rustling sound of the leaves.

   Behind him was the clop-clop of hooves, in an odd rhythm you wouldn’t normally hear.

   The hooves, of course, belonged to the one and only Tony Tony Chopper. The rhythm wasn’t exactly odd by itself, though, really it was the opposite.  It was just that hooved animals tend to walk on four legs, and Chopper only walked on two.

    There were just less clop-clops than one might expect, Usopp supposed.

   Either way, Usopp continued his work, now with an audience.

   “So, what are you doing?” Chopper asked, stepping to the side to get a better look around Usopp’s shoulder.

   “Just doing a little work on my planters.”

   “Oh, neat!” The reindeer said, in a tone that really made it sound like he didn’t think it was that neat. “So, how long is that gonna take?”

   “Well, I’m not really sure…” Usopp started. “Do you need me for something?”

   “No! No, I don’t,” Chopper said quickly. (Okay, ouch.) “I just don’t think you should be out here in the sun for so long! You could get sun poisoning.”

   Usopp blinked.

   Sun poisoning from spending an hour or two sitting… in the shade. Okay.

   “I don’t think it’ll be that big of a deal, but I can stay inside today if it would make you feel better,” he offered.

   Chopper nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Usopp. You always listen to me.”

   That made Usopp smile a bit. He did listen to Chopper’s advice unlike some green-haired swordsmen and blond cooks.

   He pushed himself up off the deck and onto his feet, taking his gloves off and stuffing them into the pocket of his overalls.

   “I guess I’ll head inside now,” he said after a moment of Chopper staring at him intently.

   “What are you gonna do now?” Chopper blinked, still looking up at him.

   Usopp scratched his cheek, shrugging. “I don’t know, I guess I could just hang out in the aquarium room for a while. Draw the fishes, or something,” he mumbled the last part, speaking more to himself than to Chopper.

   That seemed to be a satisfactory answer, and Chopper wasted no time shuffling off to do… whatever he does in his free time.

 

///

 

   Which was, more or less, what got Usopp to where he was now, sitting alone in front of a giant fishtank filled with judgmental-looking sea creatures.

   He blew a long breath out of his mouth, sinking down into the cushions. He eyed his sketchbook where it rested on the couch beside him, half done drawings littering the pages.

   Something about today was weird, he thought, shifting his eyes back to a particularly funny looking fish.

   Struck with sudden inspiration, he sat up straighter, grabbing his sketchbook, eraser, and pencil.

   That fish was effectively a circle with a few big triangles (fins) and wide eyes that gave it an awestruck look. It proved to be fairly easy to draw, especially since it seemed to enjoy spending all its time staring directly at him through the glass instead of swimming around with its friends.

   Or maybe the other fish didn’t want to hang out with this one, and that’s why it looked at him.

   Maybe they were kindred spirits.

   Usopp shot the fish a distrusting look.

   He wasn’t that desperate for company.

   Fish social lives aside, that drawing really wasn’t half bad.

   Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar shade of red.

   “Oh! Hey, Luffy!” Usopp called, dropping his pencil onto his sketchbook. “C’mere a sec! I wanna show you this.”

   Luffy grinned, starting to walk towards the sniper, when Nami seemed to come out of nowhere and grab the back of his vest. She whispered something to him, glancing at Usopp and back.

   Luffy pouted, mumbling something, which Nami sighed in response to.

   “Sorry, Usopp! Luffy is busy right now with pirate captain stuff, you know how it is!” Nami said in a syrupy voice, leading Luffy away by his arm.

   Usopp blinked.

   “…right,” he muttered, picking his pencil back up.

   This was fine. Normal, even.

   Except Luffy didn’t really do ‘important pirate captain stuff’, and everyone didn’t really avoid Usopp all day.

   It was nothing, he assured himself.

   His pencil went over his sketch again even when it didn’t really need darkening.

   Maybe they were just in a bad mood.

   The sound of Luffy and Nami’s footsteps faded out.

   Yeah, all of them just happened to be upset at something that definitely had nothing to do with him. Even though it felt like it had everything to do with him.

   Usopp took a long breath in, letting it out through his teeth in a hiss.

   …what did he do?

   It seemed like everyone was upset, save maybe Brook. And Luffy was supposed to be mad at him, if how Nami acted was any indication.

   He tossed his sketchbook aside, turning on the couch so he was sitting upside down, legs propped up against the back of the couch and head hanging off the cushions.

   The fish looked just about the same from this angle.

   Usopp narrowed his eyes at the fish he’d just finished drawing. Maybe he’d judged the poor guy too harshly.

   The sniper decided he would call the fish ‘Brook Jr.’ for his blank stare.

   “I just wish I knew what was going on…” Usopp started, meeting Brook Jr.’s gaze through the thick glass.

   “I mean, Sanji has been in the galley all day, you know! He didn’t even bring out very many snacks.”

   Brook Jr. didn’t blink or really move in any way other than opening and closing his mouth.

   “I haven’t seen Zoro or Robin at all, or at least not since breakfast. Which is weird ‘cause they’re usually out on the deck!” He waved his hand around as he spoke, before letting it drop back down onto his chest. “I don’t even think Zoro’s been working out.”

   Usopp quieted for a moment. Zoro breaking his routine was really, really weird.

   Robin tended to get caught up in her books from time to time, but really, Usopp was half expecting her to pop up in the aquarium and keep him company while he’d draw and she’d read.

   (Usopp didn’t notice the disembodied ear stuck to the side of the couch.)

   “…It sounds like Franky is doing something fun in the workshop,” he muttered, sounding much more like a pouting child than he intended.

   He didn’t want Brook Jr. to get the wrong idea about him.

    But, then again, he had  been complaining to the poor fish this whole time.

   He probably already had the wrong idea.

   Usopp took that as his incentive to stop talking.

   His brain didn’t stop thinking, though, and the brief distraction in the form of Brook Jr.’s feelings on him didn’t prove to do much to stop his spiral.

   He could hear Nami from above him, seemingly speed walking around the Sunny again like she had been doing all day, judging by the distinct sound of her heels against the deck.

   But there was still ‘nothing wrong’.

   He could faintly hear Brook rehearsing a song over and over, though he couldn’t really tell what it was due to how muffled it sounded to him.

   What were they doing? And why wasn’t he in on it?

   Nami always told him he was ‘one of the responsible ones’, so why…

   “He-ey, bro!”

   Usopp jumped, startled out of his thoughts by Franky’s voice.

   “Oh, uh- hey, Franky!” the sniper said, sounding more nervous than he meant.

   Franky, for his part, seemed nervous too. He swayed back and forth on his feet, tapping his fingers together. A contrast from his usual casual demeanor.

   Usopp blinked, before he realized he was still sitting upside down. The blood was rushing to his head by now…

   He hoisted himself up onto the couch, blinking his eyes to clear the spots.

   “So,” Franky started. “How about we…” he trailed off, glancing around as if he was expecting something to happen.

   Usopp stared at him. “…Franky, is something wrong, or…?”

   The cyborg shook his head violently, which caused his sunglasses to fall down his head. “Nope! Everything is A-Okay, bro! I was just thinking, we should go--uh, re-fill the cola barrels!”

   “…sure?”

   Franky shot him a grin. “Cool, cool.” He waved Usopp over, practically dragging him away from the aquarium.

   Brook Jr. swam away, too.

 

///

 

   The sniper watched Franky lining all the empty barrels up. He seemed fine now, but something about this request just didn’t sit right with Usopp.

   They –his crew– were keeping something from him.

   Usopp absently chewed on his lip, eyeing Franky as he uncapped bottles of cola. The glass was cool in his hands even though the bottles weren’t refrigerated.

   He never minded helping Franky with stuff like this, really, he enjoyed it a lot of the time. But now, he sat in silence, opening each bottle and setting them in a line for Franky to pour into the barrel.

   Franky’s brows were furrowed, a slight frown on his face. He stared into the vat of cola as if it owed him something personally.

   Usopp swallowed. Why was his mouth dry all of a sudden?

   “Franky,” he started, quietly. The man glanced up at him over his sunglasses. “Is there something wrong?”

   Franky glanced away. “I don’t think so, bro,” he offered.

   Usopp nodded, looking away, too. “Right. Uh, sorry. Forget I said anything.”

   “What’s on your mind?”

   “It’s just that everyone’s been acting so weird today. And I don’t know why.” He pursed his lips. “I guess… I’m worried I did something to make them mad, and I don’t know it?”

   Franky didn’t seem surprised, responding quickly like he already knew what Usopp was going to say. “No one’s mad at you, bro! I know for sure, we’re all just… busy with, uh, various things. You know.” He waved his hand around. “But don’t sweat it!”

   Humming, Usopp pried another cap off the cola bottle in his hand.

   He wanted to believe Franky. The cyborg was probably right, anyway. Usopp knew he was just overthinking, reading too much into what all his friends did and making a big thing out of nothing.

   But still.

   “Hey, Franky, would you help me with something?” came Nami’s voice, from behind him.

   Usopp watched Franky’s head snap up.

   “Sure thing!” he shot her a smile, before turning to Usopp as he started to stand. “Would you finish up here while I’m gone?”

   “Yeah, of course.”

   Franky held up two thumbs-ups.

   Usopp turned back to the cola bottles in front of him, listening absently to Nami’s voice as it faded put.

   He only had three left to open, then he’d just pour those and the others Franky hadn’t gotten to yet into the barrel.

   He ran his fingers over the smooth glass of the bottle.

   One more left to open.

   Now that Franky was gone, it was shockingly quiet. He couldn’t even hear any noise abovedecks, which was rare.

   Standing up from the floor, Usopp grabbed a few of the open cola bottles and started pouring them into the barrel.

   He swirled the bottles around as he did. It was a trick he learned a while ago, that if you make a mini whirlpool inside the bottle, it pours faster.

   Usopp frowned.

   He set the empty bottles aside, grabbing new ones and doing the same.

   It really didn’t make that much difference anyway, he thought.

   The bottles clinked when he set them back down.

   Usopp stretched his arms over his head, looking around the empty storeroom. Everything around him was still quiet.

   He eyed the door.

   No point in staying down here, he thought, dragging his feet forward and up the ladder.

   He squinted against the sunlight that shined into his eyes. It was very much evening by now, the sun much lower in the sky than it had been before.

   Blinking to clear his vision, he drug himself up the rest of the way and walked onto the main deck where there were…

   Decorations?

   The railings of the staircases were lined with streamers, clusters of balloons on the corners of either end.

   In the center of the deck were two tables. One was their dinner table, somehow no longer in the galley. It was set with plates and silverware.

   The other table was completely covered with plates of food. In the center was a huge, tiered cake. The edges of it were decorated with swirling shapes made in white frosting.

   Above the table was a banner that said-

   “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, USOPP!”

   Usopp gaped at his crewmates, who were now all gathered around him, grinning. Confetti fluttered down from above, landing on top of all of them.

   “Wait, what’s all this stuff for…?” he glanced around, eyes finding Franky who was holding some kind of… confetti launching machine, if he had to hazard a guess.

   Cool.

   Sanji rolled his eye(s). “It’s your birthday party, dumbass.”

   “Oh, shit, that’s today, isn’t it?” Usopp laughed.

   “Yeah, its today!” Nami said. “We’ve been planning this since forever ago.”

    Wait-

   “So, this is what you guys have been doing all day?” He said quietly.

   Nami blinked at him “Duh.”

    Usopp looked at her, mouth making an ‘o’ shape. “I thought you were mad at me, or something.”

   “We aren’t mad at you!” Luffy said. “We’re happy at you, ‘cause it’s your birthday.”

   The sniper laughed quietly. “Yeah, okay. That makes more sense.”

   “We aren’t mad at all!” Chopper reassured, hugging Usopp’s legs.

   He smiled, looking up at the faces of his friends.

   They’d spent all day preparing decorations and food for his birthday and even went as far as to make it a surprise.

   It definitely explained their weird behavior, and why Luffy wasn’t around near him.

   Their captain was made of rubber, after all, which seemed to have the side effect of making him very loose lipped.

   Speaking of captain…

   “Let’s go eat now!” Usopp said.

   Luffy sprung forward, but Sanji caught him by the neck of his shirt.

   As he made his way over to the table, he could hear Sanji threatening to ‘throw Luffy’s rubber ass overboard if he doesn’t sit down’.

   Shaking his head fondly, he took his seat with the others.

   Robin sprouted several hands around them, depositing a party hat on each of their heads. Orange for Nami, green for Zoro, Purple for herself…

    Usopp smiled.

    His crewmates had already started chatting, filling his ears with the sounds of their voices and laughter. Sanji seemed to be almost done dishing out food, if Luffy’s grin was any indication.

   Usopp couldn’t blame him, it did look great…

   He leaned further into his seat.

   Usopp considered himself to be a worrier, among other things.

   But right now, he found that he didn’t have anything to worry about.

[digitalagepulao]

Prodigal son terror

Li Jing in a fury grabbed his halberd, leapt on his horse and galloped out of the headquarters. He was astonished to see Nezha with his Wind-Fire Wheels and Fire-Tipped Spear. He swore loudly, "You damned beast! You caused us endless suffering before your death, and now that you've been reborn, you're troubling us again!"

"Li Jing! I've returned my flesh and bones to you, and there's no longer any relation between us. Why did you smash my golden idol with your whip and burn down my temple? Today I must take my revenge!"

since I'm on a Nezha streak, might as well do my design for him on the Expedition AU! given that i've chosen to give characters a closer likeness to their region, it's only fitting i do the same with import deities like Guanyin, Subodhi and Nezha.

he's a complicated figure to place in the timeline because he gained popularity as a deity much after, only really arriving in China by the time the Journey would have been set. FSYY was written closer to when JTTW was written down, and he was retroactively inserted on the Zhou Dynasty period.

so deciding what to even do with him is dicey. but then i said fuck it, mythological rules apply here, he was around for the events of FSYY, and it and JTTW are set in the same universe. and for the sake of having some fun, i decided to get funky with his concept.

Nezha had the likeness of his family when he was alive, as described in FSYY, but once he was reborn with a lotus body he gained Indian traits instead. this is to be a nod to his status as an import deity and his origin as Nalakubara, and as the centuries roll by he may present himself to mortals closer to the locals' appearance wise.

as for his looks, i drew inspiration from multiple sources. read more for my rambles <3

his armor is closer to reconstructions of Zhou dynasty-period armor, skipping over extra parts simply because his lotus body is so indestructible, there's no need for a full set;

there are two red Chinese knots with jade beads dangling from the armor ties. they are said to ward off evil spirits, which felt like a good fit for a guy known to banish demons. i picked a six-petal flower pattern, which represents reunion, unity and a bright future;

i included lotus petals and leaves on his outfit as they are common in Beijing Opera outfits for him, and his makeup is a call to it as well;

The pink from the cheeks and eyeshadow seeps into his ear shell, as to convey the way sometimes, you get so angry even your ears blush;

Another thing i referenced from Opera is the two red ribbons on his sidelocks, though I changed them to two bulbs of lotus roots;

Four petals drawn close to his urna as both to make it look like a lotus but also form five petals, which is an auspicious number;

His hair crown is a fancy princely [knot] with a lotus motif and a pearl in the center, as he was the Pearl Spirit before becoming Nezha;

I was going to go with elf-like ears but I thought I could do better, so I went for stretched earlobes instead. you can't see it that well but hopefully the very large golden earrings imply it well enough xvx;

His cheek dimples are common sight on religious images of him and it was a cute touch imo;

Younger Nezha wears a golden robe because of his title as General of the Central Altar in Daoist belief, and the center direction is connected to yellow or gold, and yellow robes are usually meant for emperors and their sons, which is a minor nod to his self-assureness and boldness;

The Cosmic Ring has spiralling grooves on it both to catch blades on it for defense but also as a callback to Opera props;

On his waist is the embroidered ball weapon he was attributed with in earlier myths, he was also meant to have the leopard skin bag Taiyi Zhenren gave him, bjt it was going to be obscured by the text so i omitted it;

A few depictions of him gave him a halo of fire, which was real cool so i added it as well.

[luvwich]

tools & widgets

-> an index of posts for various things i’ve made

ao3 / fanfic

luvnotes comment notepad — a handy floating composer right inside ao3

text threads — styled text threads between your blorbos to add to your fics (or just share as images)

styled dividers — fancy horizontal rules to use as scene separators

ebook prettifier — create covers & add some basic formatting to your downloaded fics

footnote helper — easy footnote html

cyberpunk workskins: text threads, shards, emails

general purpose

gradient text maker — for that ~aesthetic~ touch

last updated: may 18, 2025

[tiffany-loves-broadway]

Miscellaneous Infinity Train Fan Cars

@lakesbian You said you were interested in these, so here goes - the full set of Infinity Train fan cars I made. I made these nineteen cars for five different passengers in all, mixed in with canon cars and a fan car a friend made.

The Alphabetized Car is a car with a wide assortment of miscellaneous items that are all tagged and neatly sorted in alphabetical order. Featureless denizens occasionally manifest to maintain the car's organizational system, and to tag and add inexplicable new shipments of junk. If you come across them, you can help them with their work, but there is a continuous hazard of being identified as an item that belongs in the car and tagged. If this happens to you, you can wait for them to leave and then escape, but the tag does not come off.

The Murder Mystery Dinner Car is exactly what it says it is; it's a fancy dining room where a fair play whodunnit murder mystery plays out and you need to solve it to leave. The murders aren't 100% real; everything has a very staged feel to it, like it's self-consciously a show being put on for the benefit of the passengers. A relatively common source of companion denizens.

The Back On Earth Car briefly makes it seem like you have escaped from the train and are, in fact, back on Earth. You quickly realize that you're like a ghost and can't be perceived or interact with anything, though. The visions this car gives you of Earth aren't perfectly reliable, although it isn't just making them up out of whole cloth, so it can be kind of hard to disentangle. The car generally directs you towards scenes of people worrying about you, missing you, and assuming you're probably dead.

The Conspiracy Car is a windy void that manifests your thoughts in real time as scraps of paper with images and text, hanging and connected by red strings; more relevant thoughts manifest come closer to you and less relevant thoughts pull away. As you play around with it, it begins to subtly insinuate itself into this process to alter your thinking, first by improving it and generating useful insights that you wouldn't have thought of yourself, and then by making you paranoid and despondent. If you get caught up in this and stay put for too long, the car will ensnare you in this web and consume you.

The Maid's Car is a room featuring a two-foot-tall denizen with a jellybean for a head, wearing a maid outfit; when met, she is usually cleaning up a pile of spilled jellybeans from some unspecified incident. She is a very frequent companion denizen, and is extremely experienced as such; she's something of a foil to Lake, being very comfortable in her assigned role. Even as it's grown routine over the years, even with its ups and downs, she thinks of acting as a companion for passengers as her purpose, and the idea of casting off the denizen role and leaving the train is unthinkable.

The Biplane Car requires you to fly a biplane from the entrance to the exit. It's set up so that you'll have an argument with your companion that will distract you from flying the plane.

The Henry Car introduces you to Henry, a psychic, shapeshifting denizen who appears human, and will try to follow you on your journey, much like Perry. You will remember that Henry has been accompanying you throughout much of the train, but this will be false. You will remember knowing and liking Henry on Earth, but this will be false. Henry is basically malevolent in nature, and will be a burden on you at best; the sooner you realize something's up and dispel him, the better. (Worth The Candle didn't invent this general concept, but the name Henry is a reference to its use of it.)

The Apocalypse Car is kind of a counterpart to the Back On Earth Car. It takes you through a distorted, fake version of Earth where something is horribly wrong, and all the people are missing or dead. It's unclear exactly what happened, but you get the sickening feeling that it's a plausible future somehow.

The D&D Car is just a fun cute little car with a group of denizens who want you to join their TTRPG campaign, which the car helps produce dramatic visual aids for. It's very easy to spend too long there, if you're the type to go for that and you aren't too concerned with making forward progress through the train.

The Airport Car is arguably a utility car, which denizens can use to return to their home car. (Passengers can technically also use it in the same way, but you can't control where it sends you and it only sends you elsewhere on the train, so it'll actually just send you to a random car.) Its real purpose is to divest you of a companion - it shows up when your companion is getting tired of being your companion and you need a teary-eyed airport goodbye where you try to convince them to stay.

The Motel Car is a seedy motel where you need to do a chain of fetch quests for assorted primate denizens to get the key for the exit. A very tedious car even if done exactly correctly.

The Marathon Car is a car designed to exhaust you. The path through it is very clearly marked; it's simply a very long way from the entrance to the exit. It has a racing theme to it, but thankfully no actual time limit; you'll definitely need to pace yourself. Expect to spend at least a day here.

The Vivisection Car is a hospital ward with a large and horrifying betentacled denizen who, driven by curiosity, will attempt to surgically take apart any living thing it encounters.

The City Of Cards Car is a city made of cards, inhabited by little card people. The whole city is extremely delicate and will collapse if not treated with great care, at which point you have pissed off all the local denizens, who will need to rebuild it.

The Nuclear Test Site Car is a little '50s Americana town, eerily devoid of life. There is a heavily-armored observational building near the exit, where a passenger poking around is likely to set off a nuclear bomb that destroys the town.

The Folsom Prison Blues Car is a car that is a prison, inhabited by both guard denizens and prisoner denizens. Passengers will generally be identified as a prisoner, and the guards will refuse to allow them to leave the car - even treating a passenger's number falling as an escape attempt to be punished.

The Survivor Car features a mid-sized group of denizens (one or two dozen) who are collectively quite unpleasant. When a passenger arrives, the group will begin voting at regular intervals as to who should be kicked out. The Survivor Car's denizens treat this fate as especially unpleasant, like they're being sent to their deaths; however, they're just playing it up as part of the game, and getting voted out is in fact the only way for a passenger to leave the Survivor Car. The longer you manage to politically maneuver yourself into staying on the Survivor Car, the likelier you are to wind up stuck on it as its newest permanent denizen.

The Elephant Car has a society of mouse-like denizens milling about chatting with one another, totally ignoring a large elephant standing in the middle of the car. It's a bit of a Rorschach test, and if the passenger acknowledges the elephant, the results are a coinflip - sometimes the elephant is a grave taboo that the passenger will be chased out of the car for violating, and sometimes the passenger will be lauded for bravely speaking up where no one else would, making the elephant feel welcome, etc.

The Grand Theft Auto Car is set in a stereotypically/unrealistically crime-ridden modern city; passengers must navigate, Scylla-and-Charybdis-style, a complex gang war between several factions to get through.

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

Image Descriptions and Accessibility in General on Tumblr for New Users

What are Image Descriptions

Image Descriptions are text following a picture explaining what’s in that picture. They are primarily for blind/visually impaired people with screen readers and visually impaired people who can read text but have issues with pictures.

They also help people who have trouble:

focusing on/understanding a picture

reading text on images (ex low contrast, weird fonts, etc)

getting images to load

Without image descriptions posts are not accessible to many people, so if you can it's best to include a description or alt text every time you post an image.

Alt text vs image descriptions

Image descriptions are written in the body of the post itself, and have some kind of text before and after, to explain that what's coming up. They typically begin short and concise, but can expand to more detail.

Alt text is added to the image itself, and is what is read by screen-readers (which will otherwise just say "image"). There is no need to add any explanation before the description so you can just say "a description of the image". Alt text can only be added by the original poster, by clicking on the three dots in the bottom right corner of the image and clicking 'update image description.' It is typically short and concise.

On tumblr, alt text is currently available on web by clicking on the alt button (or via new xkit - accesskit - move alt text to captions below image). On mobile, alt text is available in some versions of the app through clicking on the alt text button. Image descriptions are visible on all posts, although if you put them under a read-more, that makes them less accessible. (Thanks to @911described for helping with this section)

How to Make Image Descriptions

Awhile ago I made this general guide. I learned from examples, so here are descriptions made by a bunch of different people. I've also made templates for a lot of common images you'll see on Tumblr.

Other Concerns

Gradient or all caps text make most screen readers read out the word one letter at a time. In addition, these plus text that is bold/italicized/underlined, in colors other than black, or in weird/fancy fonts are difficult for many people to read.

How Filtering Works

You can filter out both words/phrases and tags in the filtering section under the general section in the settings. When filtering out words from a post, it will look at both the text of the post/reblog chain and at the url of op and the rebloggers. When filtering out tags it will look at the tags of the specific post on your dash, and at the tags of the original post.

Tagging for Common Triggers

Don't sensor trigger warnings (for example don't tag suic!de) because then people who have them filtered will still see it.

Tagging for Flashing Lights

If you post a gif or video in a post that flashes, you should tag it with something like "flashing lights" and Not "tw epilepsy" because if any of the tags in the original post contains the world epilepsy it will show up in the epilepsy tag, which is dangerous. Check out this post from @photosensitive-despair for more info about tagging photosensitive content.

Tagging for Unreality vs Misinfo

Things that could trigger delusions/psychotic episodes/etc should be tagged with unreality. This includes:

content that has existential themes related to reality/things not existing (example: a philosophy such as solipsism, do not look up the term if unreality stuff is triggering for you)

extremely surreal content(example: sometimes content such as weirdcore/dreamcore aesthetics can fall under this umbrella but again this is very subjective)

content that reinforces or encourages common delusions(example: that one "im living in your walls" meme)

Things like rp blogs and fake/edited tweets should not be tagged with unreality, unless they contain triggering content. Consider tags like "fiction" or "misinfo." See this post for more info.

Edit:

Addition from @mindflamer

You can look through the reblogs of a post to see if someone's already written a description. There is a button to see just comments vs. comments + tags which makes it easier. Scroll through looking for brackets [], ID, or Image Description. This is great to do if you can't write your own IDs for whatever reason, so that you can at least spread the version of the post that's described if there is one.

If you're not able to write IDs consistently, some is better than none. Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good. You can use the tag #undescribed to make it easy for those who need them to filter out those posts. Similarly, if you primarily tag triggers but can't for certain posts, you can use a separate tag on that to be filtered such as #untagged.

Please, if I forgot something, sound off in the notes and I'll update this post with it

[vicsnook]

Good Luck, Babe! | Jake Seresin x Reader

word count: 6,560

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+, Unprotected PinV

notes: Hey friends! I know I've kind of dropped off the face of the Earth since the new year. I've had massive writer's block due to some personal stuff but I think I am finally out of the funk. Please forgive me for any errors, I wrote this on and off the past few months so I hope it doesn't come off terrible. I plan to make this a 2 possible 3 parter so leave some feedback and let me know if you want more. Hope you like it & please don't forget to like and reblog! 🫶🏼

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I agreed to come on a date to the famous Hard Deck but thankfully I’m not disappointed yet. The jukebox is playing old country songs and some couples are dancing on the makeshift dance floor, "this is definitely my kind of place," I think. 

I approach the bar and look for my date Mickey, who waves me over from a corner booth. He kisses my cheek and slides his arm around me as we slide into the cozy booth. “So m’lady what can I get you to drink?” he asks, his eyes scanning my face but before I can answer a blonde man slides into the seat across from us. 

Mickey’s face turns red immediately as the blonde grabs his beer and takes a swig. “My apologies, am I interrupting anything, Fanboy?” asks the blonde with a southern drawl, flashing me what I could only describe as a million-dollar smile. “Yes, Hangman, so I'd appreciate it if you could make yourself scarce,” growls Mickey, beginning to stand up and holding his hand out for me to follow. 

“And leave this lovely lady alone with you? Not a chance,” responds the blonde, now standing in front of Mickey and in our way. “This lovely lady would also like you to make yourself scarce and stop bothering her date,” I said to the blonde, who just like Mickey turned to me with a look of shock. 

Before “Hangman” could respond, I grabbed hold of Mickey’s hand and led us out the side door and down the ramp onto the beach. When we came to a halt, Mickey was still looking at me slack-jawed. “That was awesome! No one’s ever put Hangman in his place,” he raves, as I giggle in amusement. “Yeah, well he sure seemed like he needed it. Anywho, I don’t take it, he's a friend?” I ask. He shook his head and then explained all about how Hangman was just his insufferable coworker who thought that because he had the only confirmed air kill of this generation he was above anyone. 

“And that’s the story of Hangman, anyway, fancy getting some ice cream mademoiselle?” asked Mickey while extending his arm for me to hold. “Of course,” I reply and chuckle as we make our way to the ice cream parlor by the boardwalk.

The rest of the afternoon went by without a hitch as I learned more about my date whose call sign was “Fanboy” due to his adorable obsession with Star Trek. That night I didn’t waste any time texting him that I had a great time and looked forward to seeing him again.

Maybe my mom was right when she suggested I needed to get back to the dating scene. As I lay there waiting on sleep to come, an image of Hangman flashes through my head and I can't help the feeling in my stomach. Shaking my head, I bury it deep down with memories from my date with Mickey.

I won't let anything ruin my happiness at this moment. That was until I woke up this morning and saw that my blue text had turned green and was unanswered.

Just my absolute luck to get blocked after what I thought was a good first date.

-

I went on with the rest of the week trying to feel unbothered about being blocked but it still crept into my mind every once in while. And that’s how I ended up parked in front of the Hard Deck on what seems like a very busy night.

I sigh and put the car in reverse, this is pathetic. But before I go any further, a blonde Ken doll look-alike catches my eye and I realize it’s Hangman walking in, which I hope means Mickey is probably inside. 

Putting the car back in park, I take one last look in the rearview mirror and reapply my red lipstick. Time to show that WSO what he missed out on.

I’m immediately surrounded by a sea of aviators in their dress whites when I step inside, and a couple of them shoot me hungry looks. I take a deep breath and plunge through the crowd to make my way toward the back where I think catch sight of Mickey and his friends but I soon collide with a very very hard chest before I can reach him.

“So we meet again, lovely lady?” I hear as I tilt my head up and make eye contact with the owner of the hard chest whose hands are holding my waist steadying me. And wouldn't you know it, it’s none other than Hangman who is once again sporting that blinding smile. Up close I can see how green his eyes are and good lord all I can think is how this man is way too damn perfect.

I clear my throat and back away as his hands fall off my waist but I don’t get very far because his hand firmly grasps mine and I’m spun back into his chest once again. “What the hell are you-” I try to ask but my words die when I see the hungry look in his eye. “Not so chatty now, are you?” He smirks at me and I feel my cheeks burn. “What do you want?” I manage to croak, feeling now even more embarrassed to have come here tonight.

“Well for starters, I want to lead you out the door to my truck, then I want take you somewhere nice to dinner, and what I want most is to have those pretty red lips of yours around my cock by the end of the night, darlin’" He whispers in my ear, his breath on my neck making my head spin.

Usually, I would slap any man who spoke to me that way but my brain was currently short-circuiting tonight so I just nodded and followed him out the door into the parking lot to take part in what will probably be a very big mistake tomorrow.

His hand sits on my lower back as he leads me to his truck that is conveniently parked at the very end of the parking lot and before I can convince myself to back out of this we have reached the passenger door. He opens the door for me and helps me into the seat before rounding the truck and getting in too. His scent fills my nostrils, sage and sandalwood. 

“I’m not sure I ever properly introduced myself, my name’s Jake Seresin.” He tells me as he pulls into the highway and I pull myself together long enough to mutter mine back. I take him in as he drives and notice the scar above his eyebrow and how rosy his lips look, and I can’t help but think of how good they would feel on mine.

I doubt any of my friends would be supportive of me throwing caution to the wind but something about Jake makes saying no, impossible. A spark goes through me when his hand comes to rest on my thigh just below the hem of my dress, and I sure hope I haven’t soaked the seat.

-

We pull up to a restaurant downtown that I only ever heard of because of because of it being expensive but before I can protest he is getting out of the truck and coming to open my door. “Jake, this is too much. I -” his fingers come to rest on my lips effectively shushing my protests. “Baby, I’m going to lavish you tonight and I mean that in more ways than one.” 

His eyes are locked into mine as I nod. No man has ever managed to render me speechless, much less make me so agreeable but I guess that changes tonight.

The food and wine are exquisite and the conversation flows smoothly between us and I can’t help but want more of this man. My once disdain for him now vanished.

He tells me of growing up in Texas on his family’s ranch and of his rodeo days that ended too quickly when his father passed. He talks of how he joined the Navy to be able to support his family. I notice his eyes darken as he talks of missing home and how lonely his job can be because he acts like an asshole to keep people away, and I feel myself reaching for his hand to comfort him. He smiles gratefully, then casually turns the conversation back to me.

So I tell him of my sister, Meredith, who died a few years back because of a drunk driver which led me to pursue a career in law seeing as the man who killed her is free and she didn’t get justice. He squeezes my hand in comfort and I tell him that I moved to Miramar to get away from my hometown because everything reminds me of Mer and I wanted a fresh start and how I’ve been here a year now and hardly know anyone because I’ve thrown myself into my work instead of dealing with my grief.

I shudder when I’m done when I realize I’ve bared my soul to someone who I hardly know but I don’t overthink for long because Jake’s hand reaches out and caresses my face. He settles the bill and ignores my pleas to let me pay for at least half and once we’re back in the truck I realize that it’s nearly midnight and he asks for directions back to my place which I give without a second thought.

-

He follows me in and I curse at myself when I see the mess of paperwork on the living room table. “Sorry, I don’t usually have guests over,” I tell him, and he shrugs it off and helps me straighten the papers up. We settle in the small couch and I can feel the heat radiating off his body and the nerves finally kick in. “Um, can I get you something to drink?” I ask, looking over at the TV that is not even on. “No, thank you, Angel. Look, I know what I said at the bar but we don't have to do anything you don't want to do.” He assures me, my eyes finally making contact with his. But I don’t want him to go and I feel an urgent need to feel his skin against mine so I do the only thing I can think of and kiss him.

He kisses me slowly and carefully like I might pull away and dismiss him any second so I move closer to him and then climb onto his lap. He groans as I straddle him and I take the chance to slip my tongue into his mouth, savoring the taste of him. His fingers dip into my waist as I bite his lip and pull back. His eyes are blown with lust and I know then there is no going back.

His mouth kisses along my jaw and down to my neck and I moan loudly as he finds that spot just below my ear that drives me crazy. “Are you sure about this?” He asks, leaving kisses just above the neckline of my dress. “Yes, I need you, Jake, please,” I beg as he slides the straps of my dress down and his mouth trails down kisses, latching onto my perky nippe.

I arch my back and the dress pools at my hips, the cold air on my skin making me shiver for a moment until his warm chest presses against mine and I realize he’s ditched his shirt. I run my hands through his chiseled chest and think to myself that this is the kind of body that Greek statues are made of.

“Where’s your room?” he asks, between kisses and I feel another current surge through me. “At the end of the hall,” I manage to croak and he moves forward so I can wrap my legs around him and then he leads us to my room. The very short hallway feels infinite as he holds me against the wall and his hands run all over my body and I’m now shaking with desire.

“Jake, please,” I beg and I feel him grin against my neck and I blush in the dark as he nibbles on my neck leaving what I know tomorrow will be a very noticeable hickey. He finally takes us into my room and places me on the bed and as he towers over me it sinks in what I’m about to do and a shiver of excitement runs through me.

He pulls down the rest of my dress and I am left in my very small thong, he places his hand over my core and I quiver against it. “Eager aren’t we?” He whispers as he cups the thin fabric of my thong and slowly slides it down, pressing kisses onto my leg as he finally gets it off and stuffs it into his back pocket.

I raise an eyebrow at him in response, but he ignores it as he slides off the bed and pulls me to the edge of the bed where he kneels on the floor. I blush as I feel his warm breath on my thigh as he kisses his way to my core pausing just before reaching it, our eyes lock and I see that he is looking for reassurance. I nod, not trusting my words and within seconds he is eating me out like he is starving and my pussy is a full-course meal.

I moan his name loudly and tug at his hair but he doesn’t slow down and I feel myself getting close when he eases a finger in and he must sense that I’m close to reaching an orgasm because he pulls my thighs even further apart and adds another finger. My moans turn to whimpers as he keeps edging me. I shake against him while he uses his fingers to coax me through my orgasm.  “Good girl,” he mumbles as he slowly raises himself and placing a kiss on my lips and I want more.

“Fuck me, Jake,” I whimper as he settles beside me in the bed but I get a response that I was not expecting. “Not yet angel,” he whispers as he caresses my arm that fills with goosebumps as he gets further up and he turns my head to look at him. His green eyes are staring into mine so deeply I think he can read my needy thoughts. I run my hand down his chest and stop at his belt buckle, his eyes following my every move, and I decide to give him what he asked for at the beginning of the night.

Pulling him off the bed with me I take notice of my shaky legs but still, I kneel in front of him and undo his belt. I can feel his eyes on me as I ease his pants down and palm him through his boxers. A groan escapes him as I slide his cock free of the boxers and suck on his swollen tip. “Fuck,” he moans as I take him in my mouth and I feel myself getting wetter as he starts to fuck my face.

But he’s careful yet again so I grab onto his hips and increase the pace, eliciting various groans from him and when I meet his eyes he slowly stills me. “I want to come inside you,” he says, his voice husky with lust. His arms reach to pull me up and I’m back on the bed before I can protest.

“I’m not going to be as slow and careful, honey. I’m going to fuck you so hard that you can’t walk tomorrow, so stop me now if that’s not what you want,” he whispers in my ear and I shiver with excitement. I reply by pulling him down to me and kissing him as hard as I possibly can. Without warning he’s stretching me open, and before I can even catch a breath, he’s thrusting hard into me again.

His fingers are digging into my waist as I scream in pleasure, “Taking me so good, baby,” he groans while leaving more hickeys on my neck. He continues to thrust hard and fast and I’m shaking with pleasure.

My moans get louder as his finger finds my clit and I worry the neighbors will call the cops. But he seems unfazed as he continues to fuck me through it. I whimper loudly, my legs sliding off his sides as I reach my orgasm. “I’m almost there, honey,” he whispers in my ear but I barely acknowledge him, still lost in my high.

He fills me with his sweet release as I come down from my own. His green eyes boring into mine as he slowly pulls out and I feel his cum slipping out of me. “Look at you, baby. I made a mess out of you,” he grins, laying at my side and pulling me to him.

I lay my head on his chest as exhaustion takes over and any thought of getting myself sorted out flies out the window. He kisses my hairline and the last thing I hear is him saying “good girl” as sleep envelops me in his arms.

-

I wake up to my body aching as memories from last night flood back in and I smile, turning over, only to find the bed empty. Only my dress is in the corner of my bedroom floor, no sign of Jake or my thong. I curse to myself as I get up and feel even more sore if that’s even possible. He sure meant that he would fuck me til I couldn't walk.

The apartment is deadly quiet and I head to the bathroom which I find empty as well. Pulling on my robe, I check the living room which to no one’s surprise is also empty, and as I look out the window, I notice Jake’s truck is gone and then it hits me that my car is still parked at the Hard Deck.

Fuck me.

I check around the rest of the apartment and find no note anywhere. Disappointment creeps in as I decide to finally go shower and get him off my skin. When I catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror, I see the damage he left on my neck and chest is extensive. Angry reddish marks stare back at me and I doubt all the concealer in the world can help cover what he did.

The next few weeks are a blur as I throw myself into my work and vow to never return to the Hard Deck. Long nights working keep me occupied so much so that I don’t realize my period is late for a week, and that’s when it dawns on me that we didnt use protection and of course, I hadn’t been on the pill.

The pharmacy is crowded as I buy a pregnancy test, and I glare at the cashier who very loudly yells “Good luck!” as I walk out. Traffic is awful too on the way home and I feel myself getting more anxious by the second.

I practically run to the bathroom as soon as I’m home and finally pee on the stupid stick. 5 minutes feel like an eternity when your future rests on the other side. The timer goes off and as I flip the test over, I grab hold of the vanity to steady myself as I stare back at the two pink lines that signify my worst fear.

I’m pregnant.

click here for part 2!

taglist: @harperdoodle , @weirdothatwritess , @rosiahills22 (y’all let me know if you dont want me to tag anymore)

[alwaysshallow]

— gorgeous, part 5

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You attend a military gala with Simon - and you learn new things about him, as well about yourself. (5k)

READ ON AO3

previous part

You would never, ever, ever see yourself looking for a fancy dress with an intention of wearing it for someone; specifically, for Simon. Person who quite literally was nothing but your client, with his adorable cat that you already loved with your whole heart. Seemed like a joke, right? The thought of going somewhere with him. You didn't have much in common, gestures with walking you home and that mechanic situation were just being nice , you thought.

Well, it still seemed like a joke when you tried on multiple dresses, muttering under your breath comments about each one of them; trying not to go spiraling because the job was tough . You wanted to look pretty, you even needed to, considering the circumstances and the place where the gala was originally taking place in – and that's at the casino.

Pretty military choice, honestly. Odd, maybe, but military.

You glanced once again at chat with Simon, sighing to yourself; his way of asking was also odd, but when he wasn't like that? The invitation was over a text, a quick message if you want to go to a gala with him because he "needs company" and you seemed like a good one. As hesitant you were, trying to find a catch in this, you eventually agreed – and that was it. Deal done, no other words whatsoever, just a simple reaction to your message (thumbs up, obviously).

With anyone else, you'd think it's a joke – with him though, it seemed like something he'd really do, so you weren't even questioning it like you normally would, no overthinking.

All you needed was a pretty dress, heels and makeup that wouldn't scream "I don't know what I'm doing here".

You had an idea for everything but a dress.

Maybe it was your picky taste, but it was really hard to find something good enough for something like a military gala happening in the casino . You had to be representative enough to match the vibe of your partner and the others – which, to be completely honest, could be a tough job, considering you were just a civilian. Not someone important, but someone that other people will definitely look at the moment you walk into a room full of generals and such.

All in all – a room full of people that you've only heard of on the TV, when they talked about military action in a press conference. What was even more weird for you, Simon probably knew them, and they knew him, probably even worked with him at some point since he had a medal for his action in the field. That's pretty much all you knew about the whole thing and if it seemed like little information (because it was little information about it) for that skull-masked guy it was already much though.

What you learned from that one bar interaction with him, learning about him was a process no one could skip, something inevitable, no matter how he liked you, respected or something else. Many people would probably give up, but that mystery behind him was too endearing for you, too challenging and you loved challenges.

Especially when someone had a sharp tongue like him, especially when someone wasn't so clear about how he feels. A little over a month after knowing Simon, it became a bit more obvious that he's more into acts of service, quality time than words.

And it became more obvious in that bar, after Soap's slurring when he had a couple of beers and drinks, confessing his love to everyone around, but it was your observation too.

"It's a good dress." A woman behind you said, smiling a bit; you saw that in the mirror, when you looked at your image so carefully, like your life depended on choosing the right dress for the night. It wasn't even your night, night about you, but you wanted to look the best. In your head, he should appreciate it.

You cleared your throat. "Isn't red a bit... too much?" you turned your head to a nice lady. For some reason, your comment made her laugh.

"For what you've told me, red is exactly what you need."

Draped red dress, where the one arm was completely bare, and another clothed with material. Knee-length; so not too short, but not too uncomfortably long so you wouldn't freely walk around.

Seemed like a good idea, but it was still stressing the shit out of you while you drove back to your vet clinic, listening to some random pop station, trying to calm your nerves. You couldn't understand why you were so stressed about something like this, but the answer was pretty simple – Simon's opinion . After all, he was your partner, the main person you were supposed to go to that gala, a plus one for a man that won something. You wanted him to like the dress, and you didn't even know his favorite color.

A ball of stress, you were. A bit too much, but it was always a problem of yours: a weird want of approval in situations where you weren't so sure about what you are doing, and you needed someone to bring you back down to the earth. Simon seemed like a good person for doing that with demeanor of his, but you decided to not call him.

Decision changed the moment you ended your shift in the clinic, and automatically dialed his number with prepared questions in your head, such as who would drive, what should you know about people here, and how long he wanted to stay.

If it was the right decision to pick the red dress too, but you decided that's gonna be the question you would ask last. You've already felt embarrassed about it, there was no need of making it worse, feeling like a child anyway.

You've felt worse though, when he didn't pick up – so, you texted him to call later because you wanted to talk about the gala.

Ten minutes later, he was the one to call you, with a weird tone of voice. "What gala?" had you confused enough to forget all the questions. There was a possibility he wanted to joke a bit, but when he repeated the question...

"You asked me." Your voice became a bit raspy, as you massaged your temples. "To go with you, I mean. To that military gala of yours, where you're supposed to receive a medal."

"I asked you?" His tone was a bit too shocked for your liking; a cold shiver went down your spine, while you nervously gnawed on the pencil.

"Yeah. Pretty much, over the text."

The silence on the other side was defeating; you'd like more if he'd admit that he simply changed his mind about you being his plus one. Instead, he seemed to be completely clueless about you being here in the first place, which got you more than confused: you had evidence he texted you. It wasn't your imagination, nor a dream – you even checked in the meantime.

It took him ten minutes to find out what happened. Ten minutes where you were just on the line, waiting for him to say something, while he was trying to recollect what could happen. Ten minutes, where you pretty much destroyed your pencil, to find another one to torture with your teeth. Nervously because you hated this situation, and started to regret that you said "yes" in the first place.

"Soap texted you." Seemed like a nail to your coffin when Simon started speaking. "He thought it's gonna be a funny joke. I don't know what got into him, he wanted to..." the man stopped, sighing once again. It seemed like he was exhausted by this topic already, and honestly? Honestly, you were pretty exhausted too. "I don't use my phone, so I didn't even check texts before."

You didn't really know what was appropriate to say; you felt like the stupidest person alive, to be put in the position where Johnny asked you to be plus one for Simon, not the man you were interested in going with. "Mm."

"Sorry for that. Should'a keep my phone from that bast-"

"-No, no, really. It's okay. Seriously," you laughed awkwardly, interrupting him; it probably sounded to Simon like you were forcing it. He'd be right – you never felt more embarrassed and eager to end the call. "Anyway. Night, I have to close clinic."

"Addison, wait-"

Maybe it was a bad idea to end the call when he clearly wanted to say something, but the damage was done, even if you wanted to ask him what he had in mind. You were too embarrassed and too prideful to call him again, so you started cleaning your office with the intention of closing everything under ten minutes to get the hell out of here.

Hell, even that dress in your apartment you picked so carefully had no purpose other than returning it, and you really thought it was going to be her time.

Your phone rang again, and you couldn't resist answering it. "You're really a tough one to catch." Hearing that low voice had you shivering slightly, when you walked out of the clinic. "When I say wait , I mean it."

You can't help but chuckle at this authoritative tone, coming out in probably the stupidest situation ever. "I thought there's nothing else to add."

"See, if you'd only listen..." he sighed. "You wanna go?"

"What?"

"Told you before, don't ask stupid questions."

"I'm just..."

"Do you want to go with me?"

"I don't know shit about the military, Simon. I might embarrass you, maybe it's not a good idea," you mumbled out. "And I don't want it because you feel bad for me or something."

"Oh, I feel everything but bad right now," he murmured. "You don't know, and it's even better. You don't have to talk, just be here, observe, after two hours we will head back. No after parties and shit like this."

"I like talking."

He snorted. "Oh, believe me. I know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin'. You up or no? I can go alone."

You had nothing to lose, right? Absolutely nothing. No one would know you in a party full of rich fuckers in military with one purpose – to eat and get drunk after the official part. And there were also a lot of advantages for you; food, alcohol, company of Simon that you really wanted.

A chance to get to know him better, around different people this time. People full of authority, people that know him from battlefield and special actions, not privately. Another persona, you could say.

"Alright."

"Be ready at six tomorrow," he said after a few seconds of silence.

"Okay." You cleared your throat. "...Simon?"

"Yes?"

Question lingered on your tongue; you had to ask. "Do you have a red tie?"

"Mmm... not sure. Why?"

You took a deep breath. "We should match."

"And it's supposed to mean what, that red? Can't it be black?"

"I have a red dress."

You met with another silence. It seemed like your partner had to think. "I'll buy a red tie, then."

"Right."

Just like that, the call ended – and you just had to process it on your way home, so you couldn't help but choose a number to Rosalie. When she picked up, you added Celia to the conversation and told them the whole story. Laswell was less shocked, considering that the whole operation really sounded like Soap's mischief; she laughed more too, asking if you're really ready for that "date" with Ghost.

"He's gonna be different," Celia murmured.

"He's different in general." You shrugged to yourself, as you parked your car in the underground parking. "Besides, Rosa knows him, right? She knows the deal with him."

"Oh, I wish I knew the deal with him," she interrupted you, at which you all collectively laughed. "Yet, I think it will be interesting. You're gonna be the one person he wants to see in this gala, he hates fancy things."

So, with this attitude, you were getting ready the next day; you even practiced walking in heels a little in the morning since it had been a long time since you wore them. Make-up tutorial helped you in choosing something classy, yet, not complicated on the occasion. Hair? The most easy of them all, you just curled it a bit, so it would look slightly better and fancier.

You were pretty satisfied with the outcome; you couldn't recall when you looked at least half as attractive as you looked before the gala.

The only problem you had? You were nervous as hell. Not even slightly nervous, but nervous, where you couldn't really eat something without feeling that you're gonna vomit it in the next second. The mystery, what were you so stressed about? Being at the gala with a lot of people you don't even know about, the importance of it for Simon, or...

Simon itself? His presence? Not the first time you were supposed to be with him around people, nor the first time alone at some point . Nonetheless, you couldn't brush off the uneasy feeling, and nervous tick of playing with your fingers while you waited for six o'clock to go outside of your apartment.

He was quicker than you, though – texted you that you can go outside, so you did, just to meet with Soap as a driver, with "Ghost" in the back. Nickname suited him at that moment, considering he had a mask, similar to the first time you've met him; you could only see his brown eyes popping out.

"Going undercover?" you joked, as you took a seat beside him. What you noticed immediately, his perfumes were just perfect , just like the suit he picked. Black, classic one with a red tie – you wished you could see his face, though.

In your opinion, it would look better, but who were you to judge?

"Kind of. They don't have to see my face,” he murmured, shrugging. "Gonna take my medal and that's it."

You nodded, like you got it – and in some way, you did. The person behind the mask wasn't allowed to see by anyone else, but the people that he trusted. Man with a mask? Completely different story, you'd say – especially that he wore it out on the battlefield with his enemies and comrades, where everything happened. There was no place for a man behind the mask to come out; a man possibly so much more human and fragile. You wanted to know him this way, if he'd let you.

You said nothing in response to his statement; you thought it was a mistake a few minutes later, when he still hasn't said anything. The one person who talked was Soap, and he was pretty much talking to himself, considering that no one really answered him, and he indicated his irritation on that fact, but did nothing with it besides a few comments.

Road to the casino looked beautiful – with trees losing their leaves, everything around was just screaming with perfect, early fall. It was your favorite season; not only did it meant Halloween was coming up, but also everything was becoming... easier to romanticize? You were that person, who romanticized life to get through it sometimes, and it happened fall was the easiest for you. Baking things, trying new recipes, watching horror movies or romcoms under the blanket when it was dark outside.

Just a perfect scenario for you.

You thought for a second that it's going to be also a slow season in your clinic; besides a few pets that could catch cold or be vaccinated, nothing really was happening around that time.

So, it was supposed to be more of a time for you and helping others. Animal shelters, for example, which you've supported for a long time. They always needed help, and if you just had time and money, you tried to do the best thing you could.

Sudden braking brought you back to the moment; with you almost hitting the front seat with your head, which resulted in you feeling embarrassed as hell. Maybe if you wouldn't be so caught up in your thoughts, you'd see this coming.

"The fuck , Johnny?" Simon snarled, looking at his friend with question in his eyes; Scot nervously glanced back at you two.

"Fuckin' gooses are driving right in front of me, 's what. Sorry."

"Hopin' you're not the fucking goose," he murmured, glancing at you. "You okay?"

"Nothing damaged. Besides my dignity," you replied, giving him a thumbs up.

Simon snorted, shaking his head. "Happens to the best of us."

You raised an eyebrow, smiling under your nose. "So, to you too? I'd absolutely love to hear it someday."

"Glad that you think 'm the best, Addison," he hummed, tilting his head, while you just were absolutely bamboozled. "But it doesn't happen to me, no."

He got you, somehow. Normally, you'd just roll your eyes at this comment, normally it wouldn't make such an impact on you, but it was Simon . With his low voice, British accent and deep, brown eyes. Something definitely was in those eyes – eyes that could literally melt your heart, if he tried hard enough. You were pretty sure he also was able to convince you to do anything he wanted, and it was a scary thought.

A crush? More of an appreciation of his beauty, you liked to think.

"I didn't say that."

"Uh-huh," he snorted, shaking his head with amusement. "Apparently red looks good on your cheeks, too."

Apparently red looks good on your cheeks too.

If you could get more red at that compliment, you probably would. Maybe it wasn't a straight-up compliment though, but something hidden behind that comment; you were red as a tomato, after all. Too,  was a keyword that had you choking on his words, that got you smiling under your nose, that got you even more red so you had to look at the world outside.

It made you more confident; you rested your hands comfortably on your thighs, instead of nervously clamping at the material of your dress. Simon's opinion was more important than anyone else's – you were here for him, not for generals, not for people that don't know you, not for the people that wouldn't see you after this little military gala.

Your partner on the other hand... could see you on various occasions. In theory, in your clinic, at the visit with his cat, but you were pretty convinced he's gonna see you earlier. Maybe it was a bold statement, but you thought you've got a bond with him; silent understatement, where the two of you, even with differences, could easily get each other.

Was it because of those walks with you, where he basically protected you from getting possibly kidnapped or murdered? Maybe, maybe it was his chuckle every time you cracked a joke with him, maybe it was something about his head tilting every time he heard you talking about something that he didn't quite understand.

Either way, you liked him. Really. Maybe too much, considering that he was more mysterious than the Vatican secret archives. Your friendship with him could end up in multiple ways, you were aware of it, but it didn't really change the way you looked at him when he was on his phone, deep into scrolling through it.

His face, covered by a mask... hell, you were thankful that you've seen his face without it.

Ten minutes after this, you arrived and left Soap's car, just for him to yell after you to not make a mess and be good citizens. His friend, and your partner in one, flipped him off, and continued to walk with you towards the entrance of the casino.

Which was just beautiful.

Long, crystal chandeliers – you were pretty sure you'd be dead if one of them would fall – got your attention first, when they sparkled like finest diamonds in the world. After a while though, you were pretty convinced that the painted ceilings were the most beautiful thing, like those in St. Peter's Basilica, but less holy ; equally beautiful, though.

Gold and white were definitely the theme of this party, when you looked at the tables and chairs everywhere, including all the games that the casino offered. There was something weird about how many men were there with way younger women by their side, treating them like a trophy. Nothing positive about their possessive touch, only the want to keep them, so they wouldn't run; but you weren't the one to talk, so your gaze was on the surroundings more than people. For a moment, though.

"Nice to see you, Simon." Seven minutes after your arrival, a stranger's voice brought you out of your awestruck back to earth. You didn't know him, but the posture and his attitude just screamed that he's someone important.

Simon's hand landed on the small of your back, like on instinct; fingers curling a bit, like he wanted to create comfort, not to cross a boundary with his sudden touch. You weren't that close with him, after all. "Likewise."

Your partner's tone spoke volumes about how much he wanted to talk with that person – officer, general or whatever ; you just saw that he had many medals on his chest, proudly, like it was something he had to accentuate for everyone. It wouldn't surprise someone like you, a citizen since you believed that military people most certainly have to be proud about their accomplishments.

The way Simon looked at him, though... It was enough for you to cling to his side more, listening to the old man rambling about various things that you had no idea about. You've only recognised that he's pratting about tanks being useless these days because the military has no funds to make them a bit "trickier" for the enemy. Only that, the other parts were like a black magic to you, why is he so frightened with it.

Especially when your partner looked quite bored in the conversation, replying briefly to him that's probably the way of the world and some things don't need to change. Wasn't a quite satisfying answer for the other guy, definitely not making him quit the conversation, he only put it in the other direction.

"So, who's your little lady, then?"

It seemed like the point Simon decided that this conversation is no longer interesting for him; as he gave him a polite look, introducing you without giving the details. He only mentioned something about you being his friend, meeting with your mutual friend, and that was it – he already snatched you away from him, grumbling something under his nose.

"Not really a nice dude?" you asked, tilting your head, as you sipped champagne, previously taken from the waiter who offered you the alcohol.

Simon shook his head. "No. He's an arse, thinkin' he's better than everyone."

Quick question, quick answer. You nodded in understatement. "Noted."

"Less you're 'round 'em, the better. Military men, in general."

Somehow, this made you smile; the thought that he doesn't want you around people like that because he knew they weren't only a good fit, but they would just make your life more troublesome. Pure truth, as you remembered Rosalie's words about military people being complicated , as well as relationships here, and Simon only added another puzzle to the picture.

Maybe it was the career and images that they saw, or just people that went to the military in general were like that, you didn't want to judge, but for some reason, you could easily spot who was a plus one, and who was just supposed to be here.

Even multiple cocktails didn't blur your vision. At least, that metaphorical one, when you mindlessly waited for Simon to come out on the stage after his disappearance. He told you he's gonna be back in five , but five went to five drinks (thanks to your new best friend, bartender). Time was just slipping through your fingers.

You could easily blame your sudden love of alcohol not only on the bartender (that was really nice and she sold you a gossip or two), but on being quite lonely . It's not like you had anyone to talk to long-term, Simon was away, and remembering you promising him to not talk to most of the people here, you didn't even try to find someone normal. Spending time on alcohol seemed like a only normal option, which was ironic, but oh well .

Sixth drink in, he finally arrived, and you automatically got up from your seat, not wanting to be disrespectful towards him receiving a medal. It was a big thing, not to mention that it was something that you've firstly come here for. For him, to show support, the most honest one because even if you didn't know him as much as the others, as his comrades at least, you wanted him to see the real happiness.

Because he deserved that. Because he deserved something more than just a pat in the back, he deserved more than a simple "good job". Medal was a big thing, especially if it was the first of bigger ones in his career.

At least, you thought it was somehow a bigger one. You didn't get a chance to ask him, but he seemed to be nervous like he was getting it for the first time.

"That's your man?" the bartender asked, as you practically bounced in one place, just to see him more clear. As you gave her a weird look, the woman laughed. "You're jumping like you're at a One Direction concert."

"I just want to see the whole thing! He's... not my man. A friend. So maybe my man. But partially. Definitely not romantically," you slurred with a drink in your hand; a shameful reminder why you were slurring, so your attention automatically went to Simon again.

It wasn't a long ceremony. A few soldiers, every one introduced separately for their action in the field, including Simon Riley (that was where you learned he lied with his surname) were given a medal. Different ones, some of them even put out a show with tearing up and all, but your partner was... just standing there. Gracefully, looking at the general, just to shake his hand and nod with such a gentleness to it.

What had a bigger meaning to you, was the fact that he pretty much looked at you the entire time; his expression practically unreadable, but his eyes spoke volumes about how he was feeling, how he wanted to step down from that stage. And at the same time, how proud he was of himself also.

Like a proud... friend , you took a photo of him. Maybe blurry, maybe against the rules (since there was a "no photos" policy on every door around), but it was something that you wanted to send him, so the memory of this night would live forever in him.

Seventh drink you ordered in toast to his accomplishment – for you and for him, when you saw that he made a bee-line to you without even looking at anyone else. He probably muttered a few thanks , and your heart skipped a beat at the thought.

"Simon Riley, huh?" you raised your eyebrow playfully, as you gave him the glass. You just had to allude to it.

"Thought I wouldn't see you anymore. The less you'd know about me, the better." He shrugged, accepting the alcohol; after taking a sip, he frowned. "Bloody hell, what is this?"

"So, now you want to see me?" You tilted your head with a little smile; alcohol was getting to you, you could tell. "Piña Colada."

"Horrendous. Whisky, please. Double, if that's possible." He turned to the bartender, who quickly nodded at his request; then, his gaze was on you again. "You'd like that? For me to see you?"

At this point of being drunk, maybe a little wasted even, you could tell him anything. You could nod at his question and tell him all about how much you want to see him in private. Not in your clinic, but as friends , or something more – you saw everything happening in your imagination, but... well, it wasn't the way.

"Maybe. If you'd want to see me," you answered, shrugging so casually. "If you wouldn't be like that all the time."

"Like what?"

You squint your eyes a little. "Stern. Professional." "Why are you makin' this face?" "Answer me. It's rude to answer a question with another."

He sighed, deeply, as he looked at you once again.

"I'm not that stern, dove. And professionalism comes in handy."

Somehow, the way he spoke made you laugh, the way he said that word of endearment; dove . He sent you a look of shock, even if his face didn't change at all. It's just his brown eyes speaking right now, and by now, you've learned perfectly how to read them, even if it's tough at times. "You find it funny?"

"Your words? No, I find it pretty sweet." you shook your head. "But your accent? I find it funny. As fuck,  honestly."

He raised his eyebrow.

"Somethin' wrong with my accent?" "There's nothing wrong with it!" you clarified, almost like you were afraid that he's gonna get this whole conversation wrong; you even started gesturing with your hands. "Like... don't get it wrong. I'm American." "'Course you are," he scoffed, taking a sip of his whisky.

You gasped with theatrical manner; you punched him in the arm for the effect. Simon didn't even flinch, he just looked at you like he'd want to question your doings.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin'."

"No, no. You had something in mind, you tell me."

He hummed, like he was in thought, while you patiently played with the glass of your almost empty drink, as the ice melted in it slowly.

"What's wrong with Americans?" you asked, tilting your head, when he didn't reply after a few minutes. "What isn't, though?" he barked a laugh, seeing how offended you were with that simple comment. "What? Truth hurts?"

"At least we don't have this unhealthy obsession with tea," you pointed out, leaning against the bar a bit more, to get a better view of his covered face. You could see how the whole situation amused him, and his eyes were the prettiest back then. So warm, so rich , just like the color of his whisky.

"You're so American with this comment."

You chuckled. "Is that an offense?"

"I don't know, is it?" he asked, at which you barely kept yourself from rolling your eyes again. He had to see that, considering you could see the smirk under his mask, as he took a sip from his glass.

"Seems like an offense," you answered, trying so hard to hide that smile on your face.

"Guess it is an offense, then."

"Americans are better anyway," you said after a minute, as you took his drink – boldly – and drank all of it. You frowned at the bitter taste of double whisky. "Now, this is horrendous."

"You're just not old enough to appreciate it," he pointed at you. "You like your fancy drinks, dove. I like classics ."

"Whatever, dove ," you emphasized the last word, clicking with your tongue. "Let's take another, shall we?"

"You look like you had enough, though. S'all." He put his hand on the small of your back – his enormous hand and you just felt how your cheeks are burning. "We go, now. Alright?"

And what other choice did you have, instead of agreeing?