#just some finetuning

[flyingbroommate]

Time to post my dunmeshi OC!! His name is Gnicholas Howz

Gnicholas 'Gnic' Howz

Gnome

75yrs

140cm

Healer and reviver

Has 2 younger brothers and his grandparents

Story

In his hometown he set out to the dungeon to make money for his family

Started out being hired by small parties to revive/heal them

Some parties took his magic for granted and they could keep going forever with his healing, Gnic didn't like this

Gnic made a once off comment that he should be charging for how often he has to revive his teammates, this escalated into some rumours

Most new parties end up avoiding him

Rumours went around that he was a money hungry gnome that charges his parties for every time they die, making him less popular

He ended up moving to Merini Village, even cutting and dying his hair black to throw off anyone that might recognise him

To avoid a repeat of what happened before he decided to rather roam the upper levels by himself and revive or heal parties that need it, for a price

While he does ask for payment he never tries to upsell his services, usually just taking what is first offered, even if it's a few coins or some food

"It's not much but it's honest work"

Life on the Surface

He stays in an inn belonging to a close friend, the reason why he can still find a place to stay for relatively cheap

Runs errands for the friend as a way to pay them back

They're engaged, not many people know

Inbetween dungeon dives he takes care of plants, some he found in the dungeon

Still tries to keep a low profile

Sends most of what he earns back home to his family along with herbs he grows for his grandfather

Random Facts

Slight farsightedness

Owns glasses but never wears them in the dungeon, says he doesn't need them

Has punched a corpse retriever before (thinks they're too greedy/underhanded)

Studied botany before magic

His staff is really heavy

Has been told that elves are selfish and only do what benefits them

His hometown had a mix of dwarves and gnomes

Can read dwarvish, but not a very good speaker

[fillthisghosttownupwithlife]

instead of writing and recording and releasing a whole new album that shes squeezing into a tour and cutting out some of her best songs for, ms swift SHOULD have focused on giving justice to all the rerecordings, just done all of them until the tour finished, and then after it was over given ttpd a proper era (and tour if need be). i Will die on this hill

[awlimagines]

I made the mistake of downloading an otome (Ikemen Villains: Wrapped in Wicked Romance) on my phone to play at work during breaks. Now, I'm daydreaming about how to structure/change HM/SoS into an otome game

[byanyan]

okay so mapping this stuff out actually makes it even more depressing

[lystring]

some things I noticed one my 2nd time watching puella magi madoka magica that I just can't stop thinking about:

none of the architecture or layout of the city or any of the buildings make any sense. like everything is either a weirdly high tech amalgamation of glass and uncanny valley gothic fancy but White, or super gritty industrial horror nonsense landscapes and alley mazes à la silent hill. and like none of it ever seems the same, the city just keeps changing. except for that one café they visit. thats like a normal food court. ive been there. boring, but it's fine.

speaking of which....madokas house is pure nightmare stuff im sorry. ive only ever seen rooms like that in my nightmares. if I'd have to spend a single minute in that bathroom I'd have an aneurysm. everything is bigger on the inside and not in a good way. I get symbolic artistic choices in tv scenes etc but jesus christ why would you ever live like that. doesn't your soul try to escape?

so many chairs. I'm guessing it's some sort of symbolism that I'm not smart enough to understand or have the energy to research but yeah like...why is there like eleven random chairs in her parents bedroom...please get an interior decorator. or like, a different one I guess. one that doesn't want to add unnecessary chairs to every room.

I mean there's more obv I love this show but those details just stick out to me and add to the overall Vibe. like they are truly stuck in a nightmare world. and that not taking into account the actual nightmares they end up fighting in. like none of what they're experiencing is real. I haven't watched the 3rd movie only the 12 ep series so I'm not sure if any of this changes but....like. this is what my nightmares are like. not the trippy witch stuff but the "supposedly real world" they're living in. it's so empty and lacking in substance, so cold and removed from the actual characters. yet its like a character in itself. everchanging and impossible and ugly in an artificially beautiful way.

[sunlitsighs]

playing the second part of the trailblaze continuance for 2.4 and oooouuuuuuu the writing is so good how isn't this a main trailblaze quest that's crazy

[vickyvicarious]

Let me just say this: love your analysis and liveblogging! Really liked that bit about how each person appeals to Drebber different.

Also: Oohh you're there! You're nearing the end!! I applaud your being able to stop at the point you did because I couldn't (which is good you're gonna need the energy to properly take in what follows next). I'm not going to be saying more because just know that I am grabbing the popcorn and stocking and eagerly awaiting your next set of liveblogging :3c

Thank you! And yeah, that was just such an intriguing moment.

I feel I gotta confess here, this liveblog isn't 100% live. In order to use the screencaps, I have to screenshot them on my switch, then send them to my phone in batches of ten, then upload them to tumblr. And since it's hard to type in depth on my phone/since the tumblr app has been super buggy lately, I also have the added step of going to my computer to actually type up accompanying thoughts in depth. I sometimes do notes as I play too, but I basically play through a chunk and then do all the posting for that at once. It's still writing out my thoughts of the moment, sometimes except for the longer meta ones, but it's not posted in the moment. All this to say... I definitely wasn't able to stop there, I played to the end of the case, but I just didn't have time(/energy. you're right it is A LOT) to type it all up in one go. Gonna try and put the rest up right now. ^_^

[nostalgebraist]

Honestly I'm pretty tired of supporting nostalgebraist-autoresponder. Going to wind down the project some time before the end of this year.

Posting this mainly to get the idea out there, I guess.

This project has taken an immense amount of effort from me over the years, and still does, even when it's just in maintenance mode.

Today some mysterious system update (or something) made the model no longer fit on the GPU I normally use for it, despite all the same code and settings on my end.

This exact kind of thing happened once before this year, and I eventually figured it out, but I haven't figured this one out yet. This problem consumed several hours of what was meant to be a relaxing Sunday. Based on past experience, getting to the bottom of the issue would take many more hours.

My options in the short term are to

A. spend (even) more money per unit time, by renting a more powerful GPU to do the same damn thing I know the less powerful one can do (it was doing it this morning!), or

B. silently reduce the context window length by a large amount (and thus the "smartness" of the output, to some degree) to allow the model to fit on the old GPU.

Things like this happen all the time, behind the scenes.

I don't want to be doing this for another year, much less several years. I don't want to be doing it at all.

----

In 2019 and 2020, it was fun to make a GPT-2 autoresponder bot.

[EDIT: I've seen several people misread the previous line and infer that nostalgebraist-autoresponder is still using GPT-2. She isn't, and hasn't been for a long time. Her latest model is a finetuned LLaMA-13B.]

Hardly anyone else was doing anything like it. I wasn't the most qualified person in the world to do it, and I didn't do the best possible job, but who cares? I learned a lot, and the really competent tech bros of 2019 were off doing something else.

And it was fun to watch the bot "pretend to be me" while interacting (mostly) with my actual group of tumblr mutuals.

In 2023, everyone and their grandmother is making some kind of "gen AI" app. They are helped along by a dizzying array of tools, cranked out by hyper-competent tech bros with apparently infinite reserves of free time.

There are so many of these tools and demos. Every week it seems like there are a hundred more; it feels like every day I wake up and am expected to be familiar with a hundred more vaguely nostalgebraist-autoresponder-shaped things.

And every one of them is vastly better-engineered than my own hacky efforts. They build on each other, and reap the accelerating returns.

I've tended to do everything first, ahead of the curve, in my own way. This is what I like doing. Going out into unexplored wilderness, not really knowing what I'm doing, without any maps.

Later, hundreds of others with go to the same place. They'll make maps, and share them. They'll go there again and again, learning to make the expeditions systematically. They'll make an optimized industrial process of it. Meanwhile, I'll be locked in to my own cottage-industry mode of production.

Being the first to do something means you end up eventually being the worst.

----

I had a GPT chatbot in 2019, before GPT-3 existed. I don't think Huggingface Transformers existed, either. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

I had a denoising diffusion image generator in 2021, before DALLE-2 or Stable Diffusion or Huggingface Diffusers. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

Earlier this year, I was (probably) one the first people to finetune LLaMA. I manually strapped LoRA and 8-bit quantization onto the original codebase, figuring out everything the hard way. It was fun.

Just a few months later, and your grandmother is probably running LLaMA on her toaster as we speak. My homegrown methods look hopelessly antiquated. I think everyone's doing 4-bit quantization now?

(Are they? I can't keep track anymore -- the hyper-competent tech bros are too damn fast. A few months from now the thing will be probably be quantized to -1 bits, somehow. It'll be running in your phone's browser. And it'll be using RLHF, except no, it'll be using some successor to RLHF that everyone's hyping up at the time...)

"You have a GPT chatbot?" someone will ask me. "I assume you're using AutoLangGPTLayerPrompt?"

No, no, I'm not. I'm trying to debug obscure CUDA issues on a Sunday so my bot can carry on talking to a thousand strangers, every one of whom is asking it something like "PENIS PENIS PENIS."

Only I am capable of unplugging the blockage and giving the "PENIS PENIS PENIS" askers the responses they crave. ("Which is ... what, exactly?", one might justly wonder.) No one else would fully understand the nature of the bug. It is special to my own bizarre, antiquated, homegrown system.

I must have one of the longest-running GPT chatbots in existence, by now. Possibly the longest-running one?

I like doing new things. I like hacking through uncharted wilderness. The world of GPT chatbots has long since ceased to provide this kind of value to me.

I want to cede this ground to the LLaMA techbros and the prompt engineers. It is not my wilderness anymore.

I miss wilderness. Maybe I will find a new patch of it, in some new place, that no one cares about yet.

----

Even in 2023, there isn't really anything else out there quite like Frank. But there could be.

If you want to develop some sort of Frank-like thing, there has never been a better time than now. Everyone and their grandmother is doing it.

"But -- but how, exactly?"

Don't ask me. I don't know. This isn't my area anymore.

There has never been a better time to make a GPT chatbot -- for everyone except me, that is.

Ask the techbros, the prompt engineers, the grandmas running OpenChatGPT on their ironing boards. They are doing what I did, faster and easier and better, in their sleep. Ask them.

[mapledkanata]

Some Starscream and Bumblebee human concepts hehe definitely finetuning them!!

Silly thing below.. Starscream can be a little mean.. as a treat.. also i just like the quiet and/or mute canonizations of Bumblebee, especially paired with how Starscream doesn't stop talking AHSHDB

[bp-zb1fics]

this has been in my mind for while , but omg can i req a student council pres shanbin and vice pres reader 🤭 maybe a angst-fluff?? like what if the reader likes hanbin but yk the cliche idt he likes me after the reader saw him smiling at a confession he received , this thought has been stuck in my mind for awhile have been deluluing abt it 😞😞. Hope you have a amazing day btw!! drink lots of water!! stay healthhyy💟💟

-🦝

you do like me?

pairing: student council president shanbin x vice president reader

pronouns: none used

genre: highschool au, angst, fluff

tw/tags: student council things, pining, many many confessions, how is hanbin real, having feelings and not wanting them, confusion, misunderstanding, lowkey heartbreak but not really, lack of self care, implied fainting, fainting aftermath, worried bin, swearing, reader is exhausted by everything and their own feelings honestly same

wc: 1797

summary: you’re not confessing to hanbin, even if it hurts, it simply is not professional.

a/n thanks for requesting 🦝 anon! This au was so perfect for shanbin 💜💜 lowkey reader is kinda done by the end of it but like in the nicest way possible~ pls let me know what you think 💜 hope you have a great day!! take care of yourself as well!!

Check my pinned for more fics!!

Let’s face it. Everyone in school has had a crush on Sung Hanbin at some point.

Handsome, polite, impossibly nice, infinitely patient, smart, talented, an incredible dancer, good-looking and did you mention handsome? Yes you did. 

Okay. It wasn’t like you were too bad yourself seeing as you were able to get elected as his vice president. But seriously, how do people like Sung Hanbin exist?

You swear he gets a confession every week. Sometimes more than that. And you know this because you’re coming out of the council room and there the poor boy or girl stands, waiting. Usually holding something like flowers or chocolates or snacks or a little trinket or a handwritten note. One time, it was a giant stuffed hamster. You didn’t even want to know how they managed to bring that to school. 

And there’s always just a second or two of awkward eye contact before you call for Hanbin. He goes out and you walk away, not wanting to intrude. Some of them take it gracefully, they thank him politely for taking the time to hear about how they feel and leave looking maybe a little shaken but unbothered. Sometimes he even receives the gift they prepared if they insist and offer it to him without any obligations. You’ve seen your fair share of criers, running past you down the hall, furiously wiping away tears. And some of them got a little crazy. But that’s a whole other story.

Which brings you back to your point. Everyone has had a crush on Sung Hanbin at some point. Some of them confess to him. They get rejected. They get over it. And you? Well you thought if you ignored your feelings enough they would gradually disappear. They didn’t.

So yes. Everyone has had a crush on Sung Hanbin at some point, you included. It’s just that you’ve never got the nerve to confess. And worse, you haven’t gotten over it.

“And these are my recommendations for the committees moving forward, any questions?”

Polite applause. No one asks questions. Hanbin takes his seat next to you as the teacher presiding over your meeting thanks all of you for your time.

“Hey,” He whispers to you. “Thanks for organising all the committee info for me.”

You had taken the time to put everything he was going to present for the meeting into flashcards and even finetuned his presentation for him.

“I’m the vice president,” you whisper back. “It’s what I’m supposed to do. Literally don’t worry about it.”

“Still,” he smiles. “You really went all out. I couldn’t have done such a good presentation without you. So thank you.”

This is precisely the reason why you still haven’t gotten over your crush on him. How is this man real??

“Let me buy you dinner,” he offers. If this was any other guy, you’d think he was asking you out. But it’s Sung Hanbin and he treats all of the council members all the time.

“I’m going out with the events committee for a planning session. And you have a dinner meeting with one of the school board members later for a possible sponsorship for the event that we’re supposed to be planning so you might want to go to that instead.”

“Right! Right, I nearly forgot. Seriously, how are you such a lifesaver?

“I do my best.” You deadpan in an effort to not blush dammit, just because you have a crush doesn’t mean you have to be such a simp. But really, it’s not good for your heart when he compliments you like that.

He trails after you as you walk out of the council room.

“Maybe dinner tomo…?” Your suggestion dies in your throat as you meet eyes with the latest in Hanbin’s long line of confessions.

She must be one of the underclassmen because you don’t recognise her right away. But she’s so aesthetically pretty, smiling so beautifully when she sees Hanbin behind you.

“I’m sorry to bother both of you but can I talk to Hanbin-oppa for one moment?” God, she’s so polite that you feel bad for disliking this. She even thanks you when you nod and step aside. You’re surprised that she addresses him so casually but Hanbin doesn’t seem to mind at all. And Hanbin, the way he’s smiling at her makes all feelings in your heart die, stone cold and shattered.

Stupid crush. You don’t know why you have it in the first place. It’s annoying and unnecessary and completely unprofessional considering how you work together.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking down the hall when the girl skips past you, greeting you again politely and going on her way. She looks…happy. Did Hanbin accept her confession?

It bothers you. Of course it bothers you. You want to go home and burrow yourself into your bed like you always do whenever you think one of the confessions goes well. Even if it actually doesn’t. Maybe you’ll even cry a little. Or a lot. So you do. After your planning session with the events committee, that is. A little heartbreak isn’t going to stop you from being a responsible vice president.

Being under the blankets, just hiding from the world, it’s nice. You can pretend. Maybe there’s a world where Hanbin does like you back….And now you’re sad again. Maybe you should confess. At least you can cry about it one last time and be done. But at the same time, why risk ruining the friendship you and Hanbin have going? Council meetings would be horribly awkward, maybe not for him but for you.

So you do what you always do after these little pity parties. You wash your face, drink a glass of water and try to sleep. Tomorrow you’ll be fine. Or at least, you’ll look fine. Hopefully.

You’re not fine. I mean you don’t look like shit but you’re definitely just going through the motions. At least, you’re busy. There are committees to check in with, teachers to talk to, your fellow council members giving updates and you just organising everything for the next meeting.

It’s a whirlwind. You barely see Hanbin beyond class and passing him papers or messages for all the school-related matters he needs to deal with. It’s easy to sink into it. To put your feelings aside and just work. You’re the fucking vice president and you need to do your job right.

Maybe it’s beginning to wear into you, just a bit. Missed meals, lost sleep, running around school, it’s all bound to build up. So maybe you’re not that surprised when you wake up in the nurse’s office. She’s helping you sit up, giving you vitamin water to sip and scolding you for overexerting yourself. If you had been out of cold for any longer, they would have sent you straight to the hospital for an IV. She actually offers but you say you’re fine. Instead, she insists you rest until the next period and then go home for the day. You can’t. You have meetings. But apparently it’s that or the hospital so you stay put.

Hanbin comes in a little later to check on you because of course he does.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, quiet and gentle in a way that makes your chest hurt and it’s not from passing out.

“I’ve been better.”

“I was really worried, seriously.”

“You need to worry about the meeting later. Getting sent home after this so someone else will need to do my part of the presentation. Also need a replacement for the committee session I'm supposed to be checking in with.”

“I’ll take care of it, honestly don’t worry, just take care of yourself.”

“I will, I will. And you don’t need to do that, Gunwook’s been wanting more responsibilities, let him take it. Really don’t worry about me.”

Hanbin’s quiet for a moment.

“I really can’t help it. Don’t you know how much I panicked when I saw you on the floor? It’s a good thing you didn’t hit your head too hard, I-”

“I’m fine now, you really don’t need to worry.” If he acts any more concerned, you swear you might cry.

It’s quiet again.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t not worry about you.”

You lean back on the cot, just watching him. Hanbin’s working up to something but between the slight dizziness you still have going and the fatigue that’s come crashing down, you have no idea.

“You know I really like you a lot?”

Damn, you’re definitely hallucinating.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. I’ve been really obvious about it. I thought you noticed and just didn’t say anything because you didn’t like me and saying it would mess with the council.”

You sit up.

“Wait, you're serious?”

Hanbin looks confused, maybe a little offended.

“Do you think I’m not being serious?”

“I don’t know, okay? You literally get a confession every week.”

“And I always tell them no because I like you.”

“How about that girl the other day?”

“Oh you mean my cousin? She just wanted to see you and then tease me about it when you left.”

“...Your cousin?”

“...Yeah?”

You sigh, collapsing back onto the cot, too exhausted to react properly.

“For the record, I’ve had a fucking crush on you for like forever and I can’t believe this is happening and I’m probably going to freak out about it once I’m less tired.”

His expression goes from surprise to happiness and back to confusion but he’s definitely shuffling closer to you.

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

You look at him incredulously before letting out an even louder sigh. God, this man is going to be the death of you.

“Maybe take me out to that dinner you promised and I’ll tell you why.”

“Okay!”

There’s a very pregnant pause before he goes:

“...Sooo you do like me?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes I like you. I like you Sung Hanbin so fucking much I’m a little mad that you’re making me say it right now”

He smiles, reaching out to take your hand in his.

“Well that’s good because I like you too.”

“...Mhmm”

“What? What else do you want me to say?”

“Oh nothing, I don’t know, I think that was a little underwhelming compared to what I thought it would be.”

And then he leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead, all shy and bashful, the audacity of this man. And he says your full name.

“I just want you to know that I like you very, very much~ and I’m glad you feel the same way~”

Fucking right, you do.

Everyone in school had a crush on Sung Hanbin at some point. But he’s only ever liked you.

[cherri-balms]

♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — CH.1 — Normal Girl

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ ၊|• 0:01

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A/N ﹕Chapter 1 is finally out!! I apologize if this took a little while, I have an idea for an Alastor fic brewing and if all things go well, the prologue/pilot chapter will be the next thing I post!

As always if you would like to be added to the taglist, shoot me a DM and ill get back to you asap!! <3

This chapter is primarily exposition and fluff, so there are no content warnings for this chapter aside from a brief description of making oneself vomit.

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟓.𝟐𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bring-your-reader to work day as one of the most famous idols in hell! Or, what it's really like working as one of the most famous idols in hell under the thumb of the VEES.

6:00 PM

Your alarm begins your morning with its typical assault to the ears and dragging  you out of what was once a beautiful slumber, for a while your subconscious was even able to create a darling little wonderland blend of hell and personal heaven, but all good dreams had to come to an end at sometime soon.

Sitting up, you begin your typical morning work routine of getting dressed, brushing your teeth and whatever other morning activities that needed to be done. Surrounding you are dozens of printed posters and scrolls of yourself watching you get changed, most of which being limited edition merchandise from your concerts, and almost all of them had in bold letters “MONΛRCH” somewhere on the prints. After your meeting with Vox that day, he insisted that if you were going to work with the brand of the Vees that you were to take on a stage name to said brand. Before you could go through your mental filing cabinet to find something that would fit, Vox informed you that he had already picked your name from the moment you walked in: Monarch. It took a second for you to realize, but the patterns currently adorning your body with the resemblance of a monarch butterfly made it click. Plus, you did like how powerful the name sounded.

The last step of your routine was always to consult yourself a sprint checkup on your voice synthesizer and then perform some finetuning. Your current synthesizer is nowhere close to your first one, hell the damn thing originally couldn't even get wet, nor was it surgically bolted into your neck, though the two still shared similar parts in case the need for a quick repair arose.

… Aaaand of course speak of the fallen angel, that said scenario was precisely why you keep a constant eye on the quality of your synthesizer, because the screw connecting your voice bank and vocal chords was chipped. Sure, it was minute but even the smallest imperfection could lead to rust and infection that you just couldn’t afford.

The bottom half of your dresser vanity would appear to be nothing but a foundational box with a front facing panel and some regal metalsmith carvings  if not for the card-slot keyhole poking out the right side. You keep the key hidden on your person at all times, while the contents inside hold no value in money or power you’re sure the reactions to what could be construed to be a stalkerish shrine to your boss would be the end of your reputation.

And his too you guess but you’re the cute one here.

Lifting your pointer finger to the back of your neck, using the slight dent of your nail to nudge out a tiny rectangular panel of your synthesizer. Or, it would be rectangular if not for the carefully cut notches on one of the sides.

You slip the key into the slot as far as it will reach, bypassing all 4 clicks then rewarding you with a 5th at ths decompressing tightness of the spring lock hinge. The once stiff panel now slides open, though not exactly with grace with it getting friction jammed against the frame caused by lack of use.

Not quite having time to spare getting distracted by your keepsakes you reach to the glass case to the left containing your prototype voice bank collar displayed like a diamond atop a blue silk pillow. You’re absolutely certain if  Vox discovered you still held the beta technology he would gag like you were saving a meal that's gone bad. Absolutely adorable, knowing if you’d present it to any sinner in hell it’d be easy to convince them it was state of the art, brand new.

One screw acquired and you’re out of there, locking everything the way it was before, box, vanity, bedroom door, apartment door. The commute to the VHQ could barely even be considered a walk, actually, most of the housing within a 3 mile radius of their building was ultimately owned by the Vees reserved for employees. Smart way to both keep their people in line and control exactly who’s around at all times, gotta give them credit when credit is due.

The dredging silence over the span of two months had you in an urge to claw beneath your skin to tear out the stabbing anticipation that seemed to grow within. Should that evolve into a spiral well of anxiety you'd been worried the business plan sealed in ink turned into a ghost, but you were informed before your leave that Rome wasn’t going to be built in a day so you were left with nothing to do but respect his unspoken wishes.

When the hour struck and you received the details for the date and time of your next meeting in a bare bones text, you wish you could say it put your short term torture to a close, but the years worth of screaming in static was finally going to be over. You couldn’t make time move any faster, only make yourself move faster to prepare for your next encounter with the overlord that could now be considered your master.

“Monarch! Good, right on time, Now come sit.” Your overlord spins around the chair to your direction, beckoning you his way. You silently do as you’re told sitting legs pressed together handbag in your lap, before you even had a chance to touch the zipper for your tablet he waves your hands away.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t need to bother yourself with that anymore. I’m sure you know why I called you?” By the way his smirk stretched across the screen while his left hand reached below his desk you’d nearly assume he was just as excited as you for this day. You feel your eyelids pull back and you swore your eyes reflected twice as much light than when you first sat down if you could catch a glimpse of yourself.

The device presented to you in his hands looked identical to its future self if not for the fresher coat of polish it bore. You must confess you weren’t too sure what you were envisioning for this gadget to come out looking like, actually you realized you were never imagining something metaphysical at all, the technological cure to your aid came in the mental form of an intangible concept closer to a myth. But what was before your eyes was.. actually pretty underwhelming.

It looked like nothing but a steel box speaker attached to a collar with a dial, bare and simple. You caught a peek at something poking out on the other side behind it, but it didn’t catch your interest long enough to retain the observation. You weren’t aware enough to try and hide your confusion but you may have done a better job than you thought at not letting it show since he didn’t react until you cocked your chin to the side.

“Well what are we waiting for! Let’s get this show on the road and try it out, yeah? Turn around.” You were practically standing and turned before he could even finish the command. Sharp blue needles brush over your cheeks and under strands of hair lifting them behind your ears. You make the sound of the buckles on the collar before it’s veiled over your vision and behind your neck. “Fair warning, this will definitely be painful!”

Mayhaps you should’ve taken a bigger note on what you saw behind the box earlier, because you instantly got to discover what it was as spear headed clamps bury dormant in your throat through your neck so sharp it could pierce bone. Pain didn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling, it was like your brain tossed you back in time to repeat your lungs combusting to ash and your body soon reacted like you were suffering such fate again, causing you to start jumping and swatting out of the arms of your savior as if he were your next next killer.

“AAAAAAHH-aaahhhh?” Was that y- there’s no way. 

You tested again in case this was another instance of your psyche filling in the gaps of a voice once more.

“aaahhhhhh~AAAHH~~” You weren’t dreaming. What you were asking from him from the start felt like asking the impossible but the result you were given far exceeded any daydream you conjured to cope with your situation, but not only had the overlord given you a brand new voice by some miracle, the voice he gave you was the same you had in life, the same smooth melody you forgot you could produce.

You turned around to face him, this time with tears blurring your view. Not an ounce of anger from your embarrassing attack his way earlier, only intrigue in your reaction to the gift. For the first time in years, you could speak and say anything in the world you wanted and now your mind was white noise. All you could do was bow your head in gratitude, though you aren’t sure if he was expecting that just based on the noise he made after.

“Hey- woah, no need for that now, not that I’m necessarily complaining,” You raise your head and you aren’t surprised by the shadow of ego stretching his grin across the screen. “I did some investigating into your mortal life to find samples of your work to make sure your voice would be nothing short of yours! Getting hands on anything in the overworld is a royal pain in the ass, though. I hope you keep that in mind.” 

Was he jesting? You were going to keep every bolt and circuit in mind for the rest of your afterlife. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or the subtle new feeling of electrical surges flowing down the rivers of your veins, but just standing still with the amount of energy pumping in your body currently had you revived into a frankenstein marionette. 

You suppose a start could be a proper thank you, but when you attempted to mouth the words the frequency in which the simple “thank you, sir” stitched themselves together didn’t carry harmoniously, more like a broken collage of vocal pitches. Your hand cuts off your lips with a flare of pink to your cheeks, the oncoming cackling from your new boss turns that shade into deep red.

“Hahaha! I was wondering when you were gonna find that part out!” The laughter settles to a halt and he lifts a finger to wipe away a pixelated tear that doesn’t actually budge. “This model is just a beta voice bank and synthesizer, speaking will take some getting used to and once I get enough data from your use of it in the following weeks, I can begin working on improvements. I have a manual in my drawer containing the details for maintenance but for now, I have some people you need to meet.”

You were nodding your head along but you had to admit, you were not following completely. True you were unfamiliar with the recent spike in tech, but you didn’t think you were this poorly informed. You make a mental note of this as something you should start fixing asap if you were going to continue your career this way. Meanwhile, outside your thoughts, your boss is leading you to the front elevator.

Before you could prepare for a silent and awkward ride down, the TV filter breaks it again. “Oh, and can you stop with the whole “sir” talk, it’s a painfully stuffy-outdated form of addressing authority. Just address me as Vox, and everyone will know I’m your boss.” The elevator bell rings signaling the stopping floor. Your vision is brought to what looks like a madhouse production with women bustling in every direction skewing fabric across the space. It didn’t take long to put two and two together that this was some kind of clothing production, but seeing a fashion lineup in what you thought was a tech company put you in uncanny valley.

“No! No! No! Fucking disgraceful- what the hell is this shit Shae? Did you get sick all up on our silk or are you actually using vermillion and oli- VERMILLION AND FUCKING OLIVE SHAE DID YOU LEARN COLOR COORDINATION FROM THE COLOR BLIND?!” Alright that definitely drew your attention. The voice sounded like a female Gordon Ramsay for fashion instead of cooking, so it wasn’t difficult to assume she was the one in charge.

“Velvette! You’re as bitter as ever before.” The woman turns over, you had to admit her namesake fit well with her appearance and instantly the aesthetic made sense. Something about that cute white swirl she has in her hair reminded you of a sweet cheesecake frosting you could've devoured her on sight.

“Vox fuckin’ piss off mind you can’t you see I’m in the middle of somethi- who the fuck is this” Velvette squints in your direction like your appearance sucked away the rest of her eyesight. Seconds go by, and then a few more without a word being exchanged, only the next electrical surge from the nervous gulp of saliva reminding you that things didn’t have to be this way anymore.

You introduce yourself unashamed of the robotic slurred speech pattern and the face she makes could only be described as bewilderment.

“I- what in satan’s name was tha-”

“She’s mute, Velvette. Sweetheart this is the cornerstone of my little “Monarch” project I informed you of, and I actually came here to discuss that with you.”

“Wait a second the star of your new network is a mute bimbo- Vox did your motherboard circuits go fucking smooth?!” Self control was a virtue you’d mastered since life one, through thumb-tacks in your heels to schmoozing slimy pigs with deep pockets, the poker face would remain sewn to your cheeks. But here, you could feel the slightest twitch anytime this woman spoke. You couldn't give a damn how powerful she thought she was, the kinds of implications she was making towards Vox only made you want to shove bars of soap down her throat until it cleans the filth coating her mouth.

There was no fucking way you were ever going to tolerate that cunt.

The frosted blast of studio AC and diamond perfume became your standard morning welcome when clocking into work, upon so being greeted by the models and seamstresses on the floor of your first stop with your typical “good mornings” and “how are yous”. One of the newer interns approaches with multiple cardboard cup holder trays of coffee, and it didn’t take very long to find the cup with your favorite order, even if it weren’t for the bold lettering of your stage name on the outside.

You finish up your typical greetings making your way over to the dressing rooms where the rest of your stagemates are already gathered looking at the schedule. First on the docket was choreography training, no surprise since your instrumentalists were nowhere to be found, and then after lunch iss… oh wonderful! Outfit fitting! Which meant the whole afternoon with just you and Velvette.

This was going to be a perfect day, wasn’t it?

Speak of the devil and she shall not only appar, she’ll kick the front door down like it cheated on anniversary night and throw what was- probably a brand new Goeccia hand purse in the face of whomever was closest.

“EACH ONE OF YOU BETTER BE FUCKING CLOCKED AND AT YOUR POST IN THE NEXT MINUTE OR YOU’RE ALL SEWING THE ANGELIC!!KILLS LINE BY TONIGHT EVEN IF YOUR FUCKING FINGERS ARE WORN TO NUBS ARE WE CLEAR?! Now where the ever loving fuck is- There she is!!”

“Velvette!!”

The two of you run and embrace in the middle of the room like you had just returned from the great war and reuniting with your long lost lover at the end of a shitty romcom. This display, was one that also became a tradition between the two of you at the start of the work day, one you weren’t ignorant to the handful that still felt the need to eyeroll or squint.

Okay so,, your seeded disdain for Velvette was one you admittedly locked away in the vault of embarrassing memories to reap its head around only when trying to get a good night's sleep. You initially had spent the first month or so practicing every torture method known to man on the images your eyes sent you because of how she talked down to Vox like a dog, this was… before you found out she was an overlord too and suddenly the context of the relationship they shared made sense. A bitter part of the pride that landed you where you are today still wanted to leech onto any grain of malice toward her, eventually turning into a humiliating envy and possessiveness over Vox’s attention. In that span of time you made no effort to get to know Velvette or care about her work, even while she was making the outfits you wore on stage for you and she somewhat mutually felt the same about you. 

Luckily for the two of you, there was a third much more obnoxious V that was too perfect of low hanging fruit in the art if feminine hazing for you both to latch onto and find common ground on.

“I think this new hair style might be my new favorite! Locs look good on you~” Compared to how you felt the first time speaking with the prototype that sat in your vanity, the newer model of your synthesizer had a way more diverse voice bank and finetuning that made speaking feel and sound much more natural. Even with the mounds of progress from your prototype to present day, it was still obviously unnatural and robotic. These became factors that slowly mattered less as your gratitude increased, and you were content that not everyone was going to see it that way.

“See? I fucking told that nasty bed bug upstairs that I’d eat butterfly locs but what the fuck would he know when I can read my damn future in his forhead,” Velvette went a total of two minutes of the conversation before she pulled her phone out to check her instagram feed, a new accomplishment. You were proud. “Just so you’re aware by the way, Verosika Mayday announced  the release date of her Paint it Pink album like 35 minutes ago and people are already bringing your name into it. You got a lot to deliver with this upcoming tour.”

Lucifer bless Velvette for having the brain cells to keep up with surfing the modern social media tides you continuously wipe out on with every attempt. You could stomach social media enough for your job, but Velvette made sure to get you a top notch social media advisor to handle your accounts to make it seem like you were more active than you were. True as it was that your vocal synthesizer brought a new flair to the world of music; especially in the rise of electronica, techno and pop where your new voice couldn’t compare to any other sinner in the genres, this factor has also lead to a cluster headache of… Let’s just say controversy. Old fashioned demons in particular were the bane of everything you deemed holy just because how fucking annoying they were making their periodic hangups your god damn problem.

Before you could properly offer your gratitude your attention is taken by an obnoxious thump and “A-hem!” in the direction of the dressing room. Turning you can see the green lop bunny ears of your costar and you can assume she’s trying to tell you to move your ass. Drama was the last thing you had energy for so you blow a kiss goodbye to Velvette and made two shakes of a lamb's tail into the dressing rooms.

Today you didn’t need to worry about outfit planning, just something comfortable that you don’t mind sweating in for the better part of the day. A simple pair of running shorts, tank top and loafers should work more than fine for today, hopefully as long as Valentino didn’t decide to sit on today’s choreography exercises…

It wasn’t exactly the norm for dance practices for the remaining member of the V trifecta to sit in and give his shit commentary- kind critiques on your movements and appearances. If it were up to you or any of your coworkers, Valentino wouldn’t be anywhere near your production but alas, contractual standards came first. One of the stipulations upon starting your career as Monarch was your introduction to the Vee network and the ongoing partnership the three overlords held to upkeep their power within hell. Long and short, this meant that with each contract the Vees delt the other two business partner would also have to reap some sort of benefit; typically monetary gain.

In your case, Velvette easily got her reward by using your team as breathing mannequins to advertise her fashion line, not to mention she would ultimately be credited in every comment of the flashy costumes you wore at concerts and venues. Valentino’s side had free royalties to your music to play in his clubs and this usually came along with him having a say in the dances that go with the song. Every fucking time it was a Valentino session you all knew you were in for a long day of overtime, muscle pain, and playing sexual harassment bingo.

Two knocks on the door put your thoughts to a screeching halt.

“Monarch dear, are you descent~” Ah, it was your favorite voice in all of hell~ you run to the door with a skip in each step like a puppy listening for dangling keys outside the front door.

“Never~”

“Are you dressed?”

“Yes!”

“There’s the answer we’re looking for,” You welcome him inside with a pleasant “come in” and Vox follows as such. You maintain a safe distance and subtly restrain yourself by clasping your hands behind your back but you weren’t going to deny, days like today the tightrope beneath your feet of professionalism and your heartache was especially loose. You’re certain the love you felt for the man who saved your spirit was last year's news to everyone in the building, actually your “inappropriate devotion” has been the source of countless catfights among your bandmates.

“Monarch love! Horrific morning isn’t it~” You could listen to him talk all day, and when he approaches you and clasps a hand over your cheek leaning into the touch feels like second nature.

“Every day in the studio is a horrific morning, but I know that’s not what you came to talk to lil’ ol me about, isn’t it?”

“Why, you hurt me! Can’t I just start my morning visiting a beautiful painted lady?” You blink in a moment of silence until he finishes. True you loved soaking in his flattery, but not in feigned procrastination. “Valentino and I spoke this morning, or rather he threw a tantrum because I didn’t tell him I put Pomp and Circumstance on your schedule today..” 

Aaand there it is, of course you get to not only work with STI Patient-0, but he was already off to a shit mood to start the day. If the scales of fortune decide to tip your way at all during today you hope this tips in your favor, given the… technique you developed to avoid interacting with him as much as possible.

When you lift your head to meet your reflection, you have to tilt your head a bit higher than you remembered last, and your arms were now coiled around his waist. Oh, it seems matter won over mind again. The hand that once danced feathers over your cheek now caress massages in your scalp. Scandalous, sure. But there was nothing wrong with comforting a friend after a rough morning, right?

“Come, everyone else is already in the studio. Sorry I couldn’t start your day with anything pleasant, I hate being the reason you have a frown. So,” Your vision cuts into frames of bright white and a following zap, once, then twice again. In what feels like an instant Vox disappears and reappears within the electricity, but the second time he holds a brown fast food bag and a bright green M.

“OH MY GOD I LOVE MAMMONALDS! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!!” Stars of reflected light build in your eyes when you saw the bag. Reading the receipt taped to the front you can already tell the breakfast order is your favorite even down to your specific requests that made the receipt  go down past the bag but you knew the employees wouldn’t even dare try and get Vox’s order wrong. 

“Take a minute to eat and come to the studio, I didn’t get you a drink because I knew you were going to get coffee so I’ll get you a milkshake after choreography, kay?” You nod your head while already pulling out your side of hashbrowns and chowing down like a hamster nibbling a sunflower seed.

It was a sight so cute Vox wanted nothing but to squeeze you so tight your eyes pop out of your skull.

But there was no time to waste. Vox vanishes with a flicker of the lights and bolts yet again, and you take a couple last chews before you’re sure hes gone.

Standing up you make way to the connected bathroom to your dressing room and open the toilet seat. Immediately you shove two fingers into your throat and probe the back until it triggers your gag reflex enough to regurgitate every last bite you took. The slime of cheap grease and burn of overused salt always made you restrain a gag without fail anytime fast food was given to you, but god Vox just would not stop ordering that shit for you. Perhaps there was a chance you sold your “love” for Mammonalds a little too hard the first handful of times he’d gifted it to you; actually, you probably wouldn’t be in this situation at all if you just refused his offer to hand feed you a fry earlier on in your contract, and by all means you wanted to, but your body’s impulse had won that that day.

Tossing out the remaining food out of the bathroom window to the dumpster in the alley below you and flushing and cleaning any remnants of bile, you give yourself one last tidy up and make way to the next place you’re needed: the dance studio.

By some unholy miracle when you stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t met with condensed red smoke to the ceiling and a moth throwing a drink at your head. Drink or a bullet, whichever he thought would please him more.

“Fucking christ all mighty, the “Princess of the Hour!” finally arrives.” As expected, everyone had already gathered long before you while you were caught up with Velvette and Vox, the first one to greet you being the same moody green bunny from earlier, rolling her eyes and doing little jazz hands mid sentence to hammer in her sarcasm.

“Good morning to you too, Tea!! I’m glad you’re feeling well~” You made a decision to go on the dismissive today, Tea in particular always seemed to be in sour moods when it came to you being as chummy as you were with the Vees for a mere contracted soul. At the end of the day you couldn’t give less a shit about that twats petty jealousy issues if she only had the decency to keep it to damn self instead of making it your problem, and your problem at work nonetheless.

“Oh shut the fuck up Tea we aren’t in the mood for this today,” The lanky azure colored salamander man gently flicked Tea on the back of the head with a roll of the eyes and a vertical reptile blink. Out of all the members of your little group, Sirius was the closest thing you had to a voice of reason and it made him the most tolerable out of the bunch. In the corner too engrossed in their own conversations to even pay mind to any of you were two harpy girls, sisters actually. Black Marlia on the left and White Russian on the right, both of them added a much needed flare to your concerts and were the only two who could go airborne long enough to perform choreography above the stage, you liked to think they were valuable assets even if you could count the amount of times either has spoken to you on one hand.

“I hear we have to deal with Valentino’s bullshit today…” Sirius attempts to continue the conversation as the five of you start properly getting into position for when said moth comes in, it would look as if you’d all been wagging your tails for his arrival this whole time.

“You are the third to remind me of his existence today, if that number goes up I might have to fly away and leave you hanging~”

“Oh and here I thought you’d be ecstatic to be commanded by one of your masters for the better part of today.”

“Not the one who immediately calculated my ass and chest size in his head as an introduction.”

“Was he right though-”

“EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW!” And just like that, any hope of this being a well off- or even standard Valentino work day just died on arrival. You all do exactly what he says and don’t utter a peep until he says bark. Throughout the early hours of the rehearsal, it was evident that he wanted to be here the least out of any of you which was something that as much as he made your skin crawl, you had to respect. No one likes work already but you could understand how the brand you had was so softcore in comparison to what he was used to, the whole choreograph just looked like a bunch of pillows flopping around on stage to him.

Your understanding should not be confused with sympathy however, simply put knowing how your bosses think is rule #1 when it comes to maintaining a proper work/life balance, and in this case it would be minimizing the amount of halts and rechoreographing out of nitpicks. So, while your brand was one that strayed away from deviance and sex to keep the illusion of ownership, being a bit more risqué than your typical sets here and there wasn’t a crime and would give Val more to look at even if only teasingly.

“No! No! NO THIS IS ALL FUCKING WRONG!!” Yeah who the fuck were you kidding, if you all weren’t having an orgy this jack off was never going to be pleased.

“Did you all learn how to dance in a fucking church?! Are you all such angel cunt lickers that you can’t handle presenting any TNA is that it?!”

Yeah… This was going to be a long work day…

TAGLIST﹕@hurtworld401 @feral-ratatattat-king

[wannaeatramyeon]

hii!!

may i get gun, goo, jake, and vin (maybe taehoon too?) w a s/o who annoys them for fun and loves being around them at all times? thank you!!

(ps you can ignore this if there’s too much rqs 🤍)

How can I say no to all my faves?

With an annoying, clingy!SO - Gun, Goo, Jake, Vin, Taehoon hc

Gun Park

This guy is not short on experience with being someone annoying. After all, his work partner is Goo Kim.

He has mastered the art of finetuning his partner's rambles, and only picking up on the details he has to know. He does not care for a play by play retelling of the latest anime episode or what happened in this week's manga release.

Gun thought that these skills would carry over to you. And he does loathe to think it, but you and Goo have some similarities. However, he often feels the urge to throttle Goo, but he feels none of that with you.

It's endearing. Which is a huge surprise in itself. He doesn't find you annoying, not really, and he actually loves your company.

When it comes to you, he has an unending well of patience to draw from.

Goo Kim

My my, someone is getting a taste of their own medicine and they do not like it.

Seriously, haven't you got anything better to do than annoy him? Can't you run along and find a lil hobby of your own or something.

Goo is used to being the most annoying, clingiest in the room so it takes a while to get used to you.

And when he does - well get used to double trouble! He thinks of you less as an annoying S/O (you can't get enough obvs, and he can't blame you) but more as his partner in crime.

In fact, it's nice to be around someone that's more his speed and matches his vibe.

There will be no peace for anyone that has the misfortune to be around you both.

Jake Kim

Out of all these guys, Jake might be the one that might not be ok with clingier traits. He's a very busy guy. His attention is on Big Deal half the time. Genuinely loves being with you, and can easily be a lot more annoying than you if that's the game you want to play.

However, his overwhelming feelings when he can't spend all his time with you is guilt.... and you really don't want to make Jake feel sad or guilty.

He doesn't have the luxury of being able to spend whenever and however long he wants with you, and he truly does want.

Being annoying though? Good fucking luck. Jake has no shame. If you choose to be annoying, he can outmanoeuvre you in a heartbeat and in the most flamboyant and over the top way.

Vin Jin

Look, Vin is hot shit. You being clingy comes as no surprise. He's the hottest bachelor around so of course you wouldn't want to let go.

Annoying? He can put up with it, as long as you don't embarrass him. He has appearances to keep up, including being the best rapper so make sure you're up to par, mmkay?

Ok - just kidding. If Vin is with you, actually with you, he's pretty ride or die. Otherwise he'll keep you as some filthy little secret pretty much forever or until you've had enough of his bullshit.

He can put on the cool guy facade all he likes (and 'cool' is a reach) but he forever loves how much you're all over him, the attention you pay him. Despite any of his words or evidence to the contrary.

Seong Taehoon

Taehoon will tell you you're cringe, to piss off, cut it out. He only half means it. Although catch him waking up on the wrong side of bed then he will be serious.

Doesn't really deal that well with how annoying you are, especially if there's an undercurrent of sincerity and affection. It makes his head hurt and heartache, in a good way.

He doesn't exactly return your annoying traits like for like, but who are we kidding, this guy is bitchy and a dickhead in his own way. But the fact he puts up with you, and lets you get away with how you are at all speaks volumes.

Clinginess he surprisingly loves from a practicality point of view. If you're by his side all the time, there's no need to worry about what sort of nonsense you're getting up to and it's easier to protect and look after you when you're within arm's reach.

[soapoet]

Quick energy reading #0613

these energies would not let me chill so...

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: More than you know by Axwell & Ingrosso

You're not losing it, I promise. If someone's been on your mind a lot lately, you've been haunting them, too. And for the few of you where this is less about a specific person and moreso a goal or concern that just will not let you think straight and be present, rest assured that you can release your worries. Just let go. Attract, don't chase. What you want wants you. You really shouldn't be reading this either to be quite frank, because it seems as though you are running around aimless in the woods looking for signs that you're not going crazy. In which case do take this as your final sign that yes, what you feel in your heart to be true is correct. Those of you awake at night tossing and turning because you're awake running marathons in the dreams of another, know that they can barely focus because of you. It is as though half of what you feel when you quiet down is from them, and they can feel you in their energy, too. Your energies have a magnetic pull where you're both constantly in each other's peripheral, lurking like a predator watching its prey. It's not toxic, though, just a little obsessive. They want to see you and be with you, and the distance is making that gravitational pull so much stronger, leading to that addictive nightwatch. Good news and developments are on the horizon, and things will get moving very soon. The barricades put up by you or them or life circumstances are coming down, and quite abruptly at that. This is something that simply cannot be stopped and is inevitable. Sparks are already flying and it'll only get warmer from here, and this is a fire that will continue raging once it starts burning in earnest.

02.

Shufflemancy: Slump (English ver.) by Stray Kids

I don't know what you were told growing up, but if you have too much on your plate it's okay to leave the table and come back to it later. Don't judge yourself if you've bitten off more than you can chew either. Take things one step at a time, and go at exactly the pace you feel comfortable with right now. That pace is bound to change, and it'll change frequently, in fact. Your 100% looks different every day and that's okay. Don't measure your own progress with someone else's ruler. Silence the distractions and the noise and get away if you need solitude. Taking time for yourself does not make you selfish. Anyone who gets upset when you set boundaries would not have respected them anyway had they been there all along. Don't scrap your ideas, finetune them. Start over if you have to, but your previous efforts have not been in vain and can help direct your focus. Every time you tell a story, details change, but because you know the gist of it, things get better and more elaborate each time and gives you more fluidity. Use your ideas and previous attempts to better prepare for a new beginning. Stopping isn't giving up and square one isn't an enemy, but a teacher. In terms of love you may find yourself in separation of some kind. Perhaps you're not seeing eye to eye or there has been distance, or even radio silence, between you. I wouldn't worry too much about it, however. Your inward focus makes you more magnetic and what is for you will use that as a guiding light to come to you.

03.

Shufflemancy: You by Tornike Kipiani

Time for some spring cleaning? Alright. If there is something you need to discard that no longer serves you, do it now. You've been thinking about it for a reason. Life is not a game of chess, so stop overthinking things. Your need to perfect the outcome is leaving you at a stalemate when really you should be moving forward. Do what you want to do and say what you want to say. Don't put up with the status quo or let outside circumstances restrict you. Things will work out in your favour if you just stop white-knuckling the reins and follow your heart down the path of what you desire. The light at the end of the tunnel is not as far away as it seems. I'll have to tell you the same thing I told pile 1: what you want wants you. If you have set your sight on something, or someone, they very much have their eyes on you too. Circumstances may appear too difficult, or even inappropriate, to allow a pursuit, but between consenting adults, who's really to say what you can and cannot do? The same applies to goals, too. If something appears like a distant pipe dream, it's not the circumstances that need to change, but your mindset. And if you've been telling yourself what you do and do not deserve, remember that harsh criticism and narrow boxes that do not fit quite right hurt for a reason. If you're disappointed with what you have, try something else. Telling yourself you can't have it hurts because you know in your heart that you can but the wires between head and heart are faulty, disconnected perhaps, and you're only hearing the voice of the critic and the hater, not the hypeman and the lover.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

for the anon asking about cross,

i think the reason people depict cross as being in nightmare's gang can be down to what fans were being up to back then.

the irl time between underverse 0.2 and 0.5 was very long, and during that time cross is still nominally a "bad guy" basically, working on nightmare's side often enough even. of course there's that clear expectation that cross will cross (heh) nightmare, but i think people really like the morally gray position that cross occupies in the story. if we're going by canon, then by underverse 0.6 cross officially joins dream's side. but still fandom always likes to explore the what-if.

what if dream fails to bring cross to the good side? what if x-gaster is never revived? what if ink never meets cross?

i think the xtale materials also show that cross is a morally complicated person. he can be really impulsive and cynical and cruel at times, so people just run with it and make him part of the bad sanses. also the multiverse is a continuity soup anyway - most people just take what they like from respective canons and make their own take on it. it would be a headache trying to make everything fit to a t.

personally, i don't consider cross part of the nightmare's gang anymore. he used to be, but now he's not. i don't know how underverse is going to end so i'm just holding my final verdict for now. but if i have to headcanon my cross take, he would not be in the star sanses either. the star sanses are not exactly canon to underverse, and underswap sans did perish there. so uuuh there would be some finetuning to fit the star sanses into cross' canon. either way, i think cross would be uncomfortable working with ink and another swap sans due to what happened. he would still help dream, but not be in the star sanses in any official capacity.

~ crowshipping anon

Yeah, I agree with this. I’m also fond of the idea that Cross eventually leaves the Gang and goes on to do his own thing, with XChara with him preferably, and he of course occasionally hangs out with and or helps characters like the Epic Sanses, Swap, Dream, Core, etc.

And I think he’d set a very good example for a Killer that eventually manages to escape Nightmare, and like in that “dead dove do not eat” situation we talked about with Color and Killer, help keep Killer in line and help with his rehabilitation and socialization from time to time. Able to make sure that no one hurts Killer, and that Killer can’t hurt anyone else. (I just really love the idea of Cross and Killer squabbling a lot lmao)

I don’t mind Bad Sans Cross at all, but a Cross more akin to this version is so rare to come across that I just enjoy it a lot. Even if in that one Bad Sans Poly (mtt + nightmare) fanfic that I beef with one-sidedly.

[bluegreykim]

post-tartarus percabeth headcanons!

i am so abnormal about percabeth rn. tw for post-tartarus trauma exploration, unhealthy attachment. just some of my angsty character exploration. read with caution

after tartarus percy doesn't know what to do with himself, because by necessity his world has been finetuned to annabeth and what her survival means to the world. to him. he goes each day with shaking hands that only still when he is able to hold her, to touch her.

percy doesn't know how to talk to his mom anymore. sally does her best and bakes him endless blue cookies and homecooked warm meals and sits with him in the rain but he can't meet her eyes. how can he? how can he look his mother in the eye when he blames himself for causing so much pain?

percy doesn't care about college. he doesn't care about his life. the monsters are always there, and the paranoia settles into his skin like his organs have forgotten what clean, safe air feels like. he sleeps every night with annabeth shaking in his arms, one hand threaded through her hair and the other clutching riptide like his second lifeline. he almost lost his first, once. and he will never let that happen again.

annabeth knows this is unhealthy. somewhere in her head she knows athena is frowning down on them with disapproval, or maybe she understands. annabeth can't let percy out of her sight. she sees gorgons, fates, giants, titans, evil everywhere, and the shadow of it all clenches around her and all she has is percy. maybe athena understands, or maybe she is scared, too, of what annabeth has become. of what they have made each other.

they would each destroy worlds for the other, kill without a second thought at any mortal, monster, or god who dares step in between them. and they are terrified, but they know nothing else.

[mspaesthetic]

Tidbit: Placronym Pixelation

So you got this fresh placroynm that you don't want engraved with a sophomoric name? Not a problem. You can reject that stupid shit with a pixelize/pixelate filter.

Photoshop

First, you will have to make two more duplicates of your name text layer, so three text layers in total. One for when it's first displayed, one for the first frame of pixelation, and one for the second frame.

With your first duplicate layer selected, go to Filters>Pixelate>Mosaic..., which is a terrible name for it, but hey, I'm no Photoshop developer. Set the cell size to 11.

For the second duplicate layer, set it to 14.

GIMP

Pretty much the exact same steps as in Photoshop, this time the filter is located under Filters>Blur>Pixelize...

I would suggest right-clicking on the text layer and choosing Composite Space>RGB (perceptual) instead of the default (Auto), or going to the top-right corner of the Layers tab and switching the group of blend modes from Default to Legacy. Basically, doing so will make the semi-transparent pixels as dark as they are in Photoshop, otherwise they will appear too light.

Check out the read-more link below for bonus information on easily animating the name being typed out in Photoshop.

ADDENDUM

Typing animation (Photoshop)

Photoshop's frame animation timeline makes doing this a breeze. First, add a layer mask to your text layer. This will add a white box next to the layer's thumbnail.

With that layer mask selected (click on it and it will be highlighted in the layers tab), use the marquee tool to make a rectangle selection around the text, then use the paint bucket tool to fill it in with the color black. This will make the text invisible until the layer mask is moved.

Go to Window>Animation if you do not already have the animation timeline open. Click on the little sticky note icon to duplicate the first frame. In newer versions of Photoshop, you will probably first have to click on a button that reads "Create Frame Animation", and the duplicate frames button icon is the "+" in a little square.

Making sure you still have the layer mask selected and not the entire layer, use the move tool and arrow keys to move it all the way to the right, revealing the text on the second frame you've just made. Don't move it too far off now.

Move the typing cursor layer to the right as well, except you don't have to move it all the way at the end, only where it will be last seen.

Make the typing cursor layer visible on the first frame, and not visible on the second.

Select the first frame the animation and click on the tween button. This will add all of the frames in between the first and the second one for you. Make sure you only have "Position" checked under "Parameters". For the numbers of frames to add, here's a neat trick for finding the right amount: count the amount of letters in the name. "ZOOSMELL POOPLORD" is 16 letters, so add 16 frames.

Most of the work is already done, though there might be a couple frames that will need some minor tweaks. Just use the move tool and arrow keys again to finetune the layers' positioning.

This is why it was important to not move the layer mask too far to the right away from the end of the text. Tweening the position spaces it out linearly, evenly, so the farther away the end goal is, the more space each frame will use. Thankfully the font this panel uses is mostly monospaced, and I got a little lucky with my positioning, so I needed to only adjust three or four frames. Way less tedious than having to create each frame of animation myself, at least.

To change the frame delay (the time duration each frame takes up) of the newly created frames, click on the first frame you want to retime, hold down the Shift key, and then click on the last frame. This will make a selection spanning all frames in between. Click on the little dropdown arrow and select 0.1 seconds (100 milliseconds).

Here's the original panel:

And here's my recreation:

Here's the PSD, too.