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yayasvalveplay · 2 months ago

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Hi!

I finally wrote the last part, so now my silly little trilogy is completed! I'm actually very proud of it as it's the first time I have ever written something like this.

Thank you very much, yaya! If it wasn't for you, I would never have tried to write this! 🫴♥️

***

At first, the awakened processor was surrounded by darkness. It didn't take more than a click before the first notification appeared

"hearing modules activated"

There was a quiet hum of ventilation in the room, echoing off the walls, mixed in with sounds of his own internal organs going online one by one, and the soft rhythmic tapping.

"sensor modules activated."

Now he could determine the hardness of the surface beneath him, the direction and temperature of the air in the room.

Judging by the sudden breeze, someone had just passed by -

"visual modules activated"

The bright light from the ceiling lamps hit his faceplate, making him squint and blink several times to adjust visor to the light. However, this did not happen, which is why the minibot shielded himself from the light with hand and tried to take a sitting position.

Due to the lack of a normal recharge and the fact that he was running low on energon for a long time, the speed of information processing was reduced, and the limbs obeyed with difficulty.

When Perceptor began to rise, he felt that something helped him, supporting him under his back.

Several more notifications flashed somewhere in the corner of his vision as he regained consciousness, sitting on the operating table, still covering his visor with his palm and dangling his legs over the edge.

Now he was fully online, but his mind was confused, trying to sort out vague and fragmentary memories.

The hands that had been helping him up were gone from his back. Perceptor did not immediately notice this, but when the information was slowly processed, he raised his head and began to look around with poorly focused eyes. While he was doing this, an energon cube was placed in his hand.

He couldn't remember the last time he refueled properly. This information wasn't considered important for scientific activity and, like other unnecessary garbage, was not monitored.

When the cube was empty and the energon began to circulate through the internal circuits, the processor's performance finally reached the minimum acceptable level for it. The memories began to form a chain.

Defeat, establishment of the Decepticon dictatorship, cameras, corridors, guards -

- How are you feeling, Percy?

Right.

Brainstorm.

Taking his hand away from his face, minibot turned his head towards the source of the sound, colliding with jet's gaze. There was concern in it. This is what scientists look like when they are waiting for a report on the results of their project. Meanwhile, Storm stared into the lifeless diodes of microscope's expressionless visors.

- acceptable.

The voice was completely different. After using voice bank for a long time, his real voice sounded like someone else's. He wasn't very expressive. Soft and calm, yes, but it had a larger range of tones than Perceptor was used to.

Upon hearing this, Brainstorm visibly perked up and, as soon as he noticed that minibot was about to get off the table, he helped him, supporting his autobot by the arms.

-I'm glad to hear you, Percy)

When microscope was on the floor, Stom didn't let him go. Instead, Brainstorm began to push, leading him to a polished metal wall in which their reflections could be seen.

It's worth admitting.

Brainstorm did a good job.

The old paint was completely replaced with a new bright enamel of the same colors, all the modifications of the altmod were gone, and the microscope on the shoulder changed its shape.

Brainstorm put his hands on Perceptor's shoulders, standing next to him.

- Oh... Just look at us. Just like the old times.

Jet's eyes narrowed in a blissful nostalgic smile as Perceptor thought "No."

Not like the old times. Yes, now minibot really looked as if all those years of imprisonment had never happened, but the jet himself looked completely different.

His colors were noticeably darker than before, the shape of the hull had changed, the fuel pipes were pulled out and wrapped around the thoracic region, resembling human ribs, the eyes burned with a sick, abnormal light, as if their owner was in a fever or delirium and that damn Decepticon mark, a purple spot spread across his chest. A sign that shouldn't be there.

However, with all the changes and differences, it was still Brainstorm. His crazy assistant. The same mech that competed with Perceptor, making discoveries for speed. The same assistant who made the whole lab shake when his next incredible experiment ended in an explosion. The same Brainstorm that stormed out of Ultramagnus's office one day shouting "I'M NOT BUILDING THIS!" and then-

...

Where did these stupid thoughts come from?

Perceptor closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearing his processor from useless memories. He needs to focus. It was necessary to analyze the situation.

-what did she do to my brain?

Storm also stopped staring at their reflection and turned his head towards the autobot.

-It's okay. She just uploaded the emotions back. Blackarachnia said that she will gradually raise their level to normal over the next sessions so that you have time to get used to it. And who knows, maybe I will do the next sessions)

-I don't need them.

-we do, Percy.

Brainstorm took Perceptor by the shoulders and knelt in front of him so that their faceplates were on the same level.

-Percy, I don't know what has been going on here all this time. I don't know what you had to go through, but I know that you would never do something like that to yourself for nothing, most likely you simply had no other choice. However...

The minibot's shoulders were firmly gripped

-...You've lost. It's a new world. There are many new and perverse rules that must be followed. I chose you as my autobot, and you know what that means.

While jet was talking this nonsense, Perceptor was thinking. Brainstorm wasn't the preferred option because of his cleverness, but that didn't mean he couldn't be used. Having a Decepticon will save Perceptor from having to stay in shared cells and potentially give him access to the laboratory, from where he will have new opportunities to help others out.

The main thing is to survive being near Brainstorm.

The past doesn't matter, now it's a completely different mech, which the scientist doesn't know and can only guess what he is capable of.

The most advantageous option would be to comply.

- resistance is not rational.

Brainstorm narrowed his eyes. It's not clear whether this answer upset him or pleased him.

Jet drawled :

-That's right.

Perceptor's shoulders were stroked. It was already clear that Brainstorm was holding back on physical contact.

-I don't want anyone bossing you around. Now we're together, just like in the good old days. And as long as that's the case, you won't be harmed. Ok?

Perceptor was still looking at him indifferently, but after deciding to play along with Jet's delusional mind, something other than cold calculation finally flashed in his gaze.

Brainstorm smiled behind his mask.

- I guarantee you that one hundred million percent.)

The microscope sighed heavily.

-You're exaggerating the numbers again.

-➕

I've been wanting to draw myself hugging ya plus anon. But I don't want to keep my followers waiting any longer. So here it is part 3 of DW simpatico.

#decepticons win au #simpatico #i may still draw it and post it as a reblog #but im in a place were i cant currently draw

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thezombieprostitute · 1 year ago

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Changing Minds - Part 4

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

Word Count: ~2.4k (definitely a big'un for my standards!)

Warnings: Implied violence and attempted murder. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU.

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

Nick’s been making sure to keep texting you. Nothing too romantic, too revealing, but still keeping in touch, keeping up the appearance of interest. He’s gotten his hands on a tennis bracelet with your favorite color gemstones. Jake was able to find a small enough tracker that could be hidden behind one of the stones. He figured it should be easy enough to offer it to you while you were at work.

But as he pulls into the parking lot he’s thrown into a mild panic at the sight of so many police vehicles and ambulances. He gets out of the car and walks as close as he can before he’s stopped by an officer.

“What’s going on,” he asks, worry etched into his face.

“There’s a bomb,” the officer responds. “We’ve got almost everyone safely out. Bomb squad is in there now.”

“What about Y/N? She’s a friend of mine who works here.”

The officer shrugs, “everyone who’s gotten out of the building is over in that section.” He points to a small group near the ambulances. Nick immediately walks over but he doesn’t see you. He recognizes one of the people who works for you, Nikki? Nicole? He can’t remember but he gets their attention.

“Where is Y/N? Why isn’t she with you?”

“The bomb was at her desk,” the young lady whispers. “It…it was activated when she sat down on her chair or something.”

For a moment, Nick can’t think. Any second now you could be dead, likely all because of him. He sees the police lights flashing and pulls out his phone, dialing Sheriff Bodecker.

He answers after three rings, “this had better be damn important, Fowler.”

“The City Clerk office–”

“Yeah, we got our best people helpin’ out that little lady. What about it?”

“I need access.”

“No can do, Fowler. That’s a city-owned building with city employees at risk. Can’t be havin’ a civilian helpin’ on the investigation. This stays in house.”

“Bullshit,” Nick growls into the phone. “She’s my friend! She’s in danger and I need to know who the hell placed that damn thing!”

“You’ll get access to the reports the same time as every other citizen,” Lee states. “You know where my loyalties lie, Nick, but when it comes to city stuff, I got alotta protocol to follow if I want to keep my job.”

Nick angrily hangs up the phone. He knows Bodecker is right but he’s still pissed off about it. He calls up Jake to ask him to hack the security cameras but Jensen says it’s a no-go. The security cameras are all self-contained. He’d have to be in the building itself to mess with them. Nick hangs up, frustrated.

He’s trying to think of other options when his eyes spot Clark Kent near the building, talking to the police. Confused and enraged Nick stalks over to him, trying to pick up as much of the conversation as he can. He hears snippets of “oh that poor lady,” and “any resources I can offer” before Kent spots him.

“Mr. Fowler,” he greets. “I’m not surprised to see you here. Your poor friend must be a mess!”

“What are you doing here,” Nick seethed.

“I was hoping to pay the lovely Lady a visit,” he calmly answers. “I had such a lovely time talking with her and I was hoping to talk to her some more. But then this!” Kent gestures at the building, “who would do such a thing? Why would they do such a thing?”

Nick sees through the mask of concern Kent has set up. They both know the value of the records in that building and several reasons why someone would want them destroyed. But if either of them admits to it, it would only be used against them. As much as Nick wants to punch him, he knows it would only make everything worse.

Fortunately the tension is cut with a small cheer from your coworkers. Both men look and see you being walked outside. Nick’s never seen you so scared and he tries to run to you but is stopped by the officer.

“Please,” Nick insists, “she’s my friend. Please let me go help her.”

“It’s okay, Officer,” Kent adds. “I can confirm their friendship. Please let him go to her?” The officer looks at both men and lets Nick pass, letting the officer escorting you know what’s going on. When you see Nick you reach out to him and take his hand.

“W’ere taking her to the ambulance,” the officer tells him. “Gonna get her vitals checked. Likely in a state of shock.” Nick nods and walks with you, his hand never leaving yours.

You find yourself leaning into him as you get to the ambulance. Your coworkers try to get closer but Nick gestures at them to stay back saying, correctly, you need air. The EMT gets to work checking everything she can. She confirms that you’re suffering from shock and either need a hospital stay overnight or to have a friend keep an eye on you at your home. You don’t argue when Nick says he’ll take care of you. You just nod.

Your coworkers give you space as Nick walks you to his car, all of them giving you well wishes. You nod and quietly thank each of them as you walk. You definitely didn’t expect to see Mr. Kent walking up to you, steel blue eyes full of concern.

“My dear Lady,” he starts, taking your free hand in both of his, “I do hope you will recover quickly.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything so you just nod and keep walking.

Nick helps you into your apartment and let yourself slump into your favorite chair. Every time Nick has tried to speak you put up a hand to stop him. You need this. The familiarity of home and comfort before you can bring yourself to have the conversation you know you need to have with him.

Nick has respected your request for silence but, in his need to do something, he asks, “can I get you some tea or something? If I can find the stuff.” You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Nick notices your nostrils flaring in agitation and wishes he’d kept his mouth shut.

“What I need,” you huff, “is for you to tell me what the hell is going on?” You glare at Nick and he’s taken aback at the ferocity in your eyes.

“I don’t know anything about the bomb, I swear to you.”

“Of course it isn’t you, Nick,” you scold, your voice getting louder with each word. “We’ve been acquaintances for years with no problem. Then I’m introduced to Mr. Kent, hear your background with him, and suddenly I’m given police reports meant to make you look dangerous and have a bomb placed at my desk! He even showed up to the scene of the damn crime! It doesn’t take a genius to figure this shit out!”

Nick finds himself stumbling over his words. He’s never seen you like this before and he’s not sure what he can do or say to help.

“Don’t you dare tell me you don’t know anything,” you scold him. “You got me into this damn mess, you’re going to either get me out of it or keep me safe!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nick whispers in awe of your anger. He’s very glad he didn’t get you that cup of tea as he’s pretty sure he’d be covered in burn marks from you throwing it in his face.

“And you’re going to call whatever people you’re associated with and get me some more secure locks on my door and maybe even a fucking panic button I can press if I need help. Hell, maybe even a tracker in case I get kidnapped!” Nick ducks his head in shame at that one. “You actually have something already, don’t you,” you chide. “Well, let’s see it!”

Nick pulls out the jewelry box with the tennis bracelet and hands it to you. Your eyes widen in surprise at how pretty it is. “So this is why you wanted to know things like my favorite color?” He nods. “Alright, show me where the tracker is so that I can make sure it doesn’t get damaged or something.” He quietly shows you everything and you put on the necklace. He shows you the locator app on his phone and you feel a little relief. At least now there’s a chance someone would find your body.

While his phone is out he calls someone named “Barnes”. He tries to walk to another room to have a quiet conversation but you refuse to let him leave you alone. If he says anything that downplays his role in your current situation you will make sure this Barnes fellow hears your counter argument.

The entire conversation he feels the burn of your glare on him. He had no idea you could possess such rage. He wonders if this is how people feel when he’s angry at them. He feels like he needs to confess every bad thing he’s ever done just to get you to stop looking at him like that.

He hangs up the phone and tells you a couple of people will be there to beef up your security around the apartment and talk to you about other security options.

After a couple of hours Nick tells you the “guests” are here and there’s a knock at the door right after. He checks the peephole and opens the door. Inside walks a tall, broad man with a dark beard, blue eyes, wearing a beanie and carrying a toolbag. With him is a curvy woman who approaches you with a gentle smile and says, “you can call me Teach. This is Curtis, he’s going to make sure your apartment door and windows are all reinforced with stronger locks.” Curtis grunts acknowledgement as the door closes and he immediately gets to work.

Nick tries to approach and stand next to you as you start talking with Teach but you give him a glare and he ends up sitting at the far end of your couch. You’d laugh at how much he looks like a petulant child if you weren’t still angry at him. Teach definitely picks up on your animosity and asks “would you like someone else on your security detail?”

“I’m not sure,” you quietly admit.

“If it helps at all he is one of the best three in terms of personal security.”

You nod, “but will having him around just make it worse for me?”

“Quite possibly,” Teach admits. “It feels like the closer you and Nick appear to be, the worse it’ll be for you. On the other hand, if he’s not around, it leaves you open and vulnerable. We just don’t know enough to know if Kent’s people will leave you alone if the two of you have a falling out or if he’ll try something anyways just to further hurt Nick. Considering the options, it’s likely safer for you to keep him around.”

Sighing, you concede to her logic, “I suppose we can keep up the friendship and fake dating thing until we know how Kent will react to a breakup.”

“Oh good,” Teach says. “Nick did tell you it was a platonic date.”

“No he didn’t,” you shake your head and her eyes widen. “He didn’t need to,” you scoff. “Nick isn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he likes to think.”

Teach seems to consider your words, “or you’re just that good at reading him. He’s a regular winner at the monthly poker games.” She shakes her head, “but that’s neither here nor there. He’ll be assigned to your security under the premise of dating. We’ll make sure to get you some additional coverage in the form of surveillance. We’ve got eyes on nearby security cameras for your apartment and your office. I’ll give you my contact information so that, if you think of other security measures you’d like, you can ask me.”

“Thank you, Teach, sincerely. How can I repay you?”

She gets a sly smile, “make sure Nick doesn’t get off easy? He fucked up big time and you’re paying the price.”

“He only took me to that event to try to cheer me up.”

“And yet,” she whispers, “from what I’ve heard, he didn’t even try to play it cool in separating you from Kent. If he’d been more casual, let you spend the evening with Kent, maybe there wouldn’t be such a big target on your back. Seriously, for as good as Nick can be about hiding his feelings, he seems to be unable to mask up around you.”

You ponder on that while Curtis finishes up the reinforcement measures for your apartment. He and Teach head out and move to stand in front of Nick, who hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

Clearing your throat to get his attention your heart softens when you see the pain in his eyes. “We need to discuss the rules and get our story straight,” you tell him. He nods and you continue, “we can actually use the emotional trauma of the bomb and say that was the catalyst that moved us from friends to dating.” Again, a silent nod from him. “Every time you’re at my apartment you will sleep on the couch. Every time you see me you will bring me a flower or some other small gift. Every time we go out, we will keep PDA to a minimum.” For each requirement you bring up he silently nods.

“Do you have anything to say,” you chide.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he starts. “I…I shouldn’t have…I’m just...so sorry.” Your feel deflated as the last of your anger dissipates at his sincere apology.

Sighing, you tell him, “I need to get some sleep. Feel free to familiarize yourself with the kitchen. You are allowed to roam my apartment but not my bedroom.” You start walking towards your bed and mutter under your breath, “that’s reserved for people actually interested in me.”

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rebekahdawkins

@texmexdarling

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

#nick fowler x reader #mafia!nick fowler x reader #dark!clark kent #mob au #nick fowler #mob!nick fowler #nick fowler x female reader

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alicedrawslesmis · 11 months ago

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my final thoughts on the olympic opening ceremony, as someone who knows a little bit how the behind the scenes works for them, if there are any usamericans here that for some reason are gonna be involved next time idk the chances are null but I feel like this is my duty:

PLEASE. please please please please. learn from the Paris one. Don't start the ceremony during the day. It looks like shit. You can't control the light. It looks like shit. Cannot stress enough. Everyone who tries, fails.

THE MOST IMPORTANT PART IS DIRECTING THE CAMERA. YOU NEED SOMEONE WHO UNDERSTANDS HOW TO FILM SHIT. IF THE CAMERA LOOKS BAD THIS IS HOW 99.999% OF PEOPLE (EXACTLY) WILL EXPERIENCE THE CEREMONY.

please stop with the pre-filmed skits. this is just a preference of mine tho

do you know why they perform the ceremony in stadiums? because sailing 6km with a mechanical horse down the river Seine takes forever

I liked that they would switch between musical numbers and the teams. Made it a little less boring to watch.

You need a narrative line for the 4 hours to be interesting. You can't just do a wordmap of random concepts. That felt corporate. It had no reason. What the hell was the narrative throughline? Random french garbage??? Chat GPT suggestions for the new french motto???? Stuff that rhymes???????

DO NOT PLAY IMAGINE BY JOHN LENNON AGAIN. THIS IS THE FOURTH CEREMONY THAT DID. EMBARRASSING.

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sigmadaily · 1 year ago

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Welcome to the home of ultra high quality reference screenshots for Sigma aka Dr. Siebren de Kuiper from Overwatch.

I'm the Sigmatographer.

☼ CLICK HERE FOR THE FULL TAG LIST FOR NAVIGATION

All the categorization you can imagine.

☼ CLICK HERE FOR THE HIGH RESOLUTION DISCLAIMER

I have even higher resolution available for most of these, if you want.

☼ HOW DO I FILTER YOU OUT FROM THE SIGMA TAG???

Glad you asked!

Settings > Account Settings > Content You See > Filtered Tags > add #siebren de kuiper screenshots - This will cut down my posts to a little grey box you can un-filter at any time without blocking me!

☼ CAN I USE/MODIFY THESE SHOTS FOR...

I welcome crops/edits/touchups whatever you want to do for the screenshots, please credit the blog. If you use these for artistic reference, please let me know because I want to see your art. Let me feast my eyes on him. More. More.

•••••

More info about the blog in general below the cut, for the curious.

== WHY?? WHY IS THIS BLOG ==

because i have, ahem, a hobby.

Anyway, I figured that artists who want to draw Sigma should benefit from this uh. habit? of mine, of course.

== ...HOW?? ==

Settings > Video > Graphics Quality > Screenshot Quality > 5X Resolution

This applies a rendering multiplier on the in-game screenshot feature that activates when you hit your [print screen] button on your keyboard, temporarily straining your graphics card for a little more processing power to produce a screenshot at, in this case, 5x the resolution of the window you're playing in. These screenshots are rendered this way during recent highlights [including intros] [not including saved highlights], the hero gallery, and replays.

Almost all of my non-gallery and non-highlight screenshots are taken during replays using the 3rd person camera, replay speed at 0.1x to really control capturing the coolest moments, player outline at 0%, and covering about 5min of gameplay over the course of 3hrs on average, constantly pausing and flying around Sigma to capture his various skins + weapon customizations in various lightings, maps, settings, effects, poses, abilities, and angles.

For skins that I do not own, I am merely capturing opportune moments when I happen to play a game when a Sigma with a skin I do not own is playing, and pinning/importing that replay for screenshotting. It's mere happenstance to catch those moments, for the most part.

Skins I've screenshotted without actually owning them:

Maestro [when will my husband return from war (lootboxes)]

Beholder

Carbon Fiber [and then they re-released him so i have him now!]

Draik [which I then bought on re-release]

(As far as the Drowned Warrior skin is concerned, I hate it on principle for the fact that they released such a garbage and lazy recoloring for $60. I will not screenshot this insult.)

#sigma overwatch #overwatch screenshots #siebren de kuiper #siebren de kuiper screenshots #overwatch sigma #sigmatographer nonsense

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artesianalpondscum · 1 year ago

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EXHAUSTIVE POLAROID CAMERA GUIDE FOR POLAROID CAMERA NEWBIES AND THE POLAROID CURIOUS FROM SOMEONE WHO TRIALED AND ERRORED THEM SELF OUT OF NEARLY $600 TO GET A GOOD EXPIERENCE AND THINKS YOU SHOULDNT SO IM MAKING THIS OUT OF SHEER SPITE TO THE POLAROID COMMUNITY GATEKEEPERS WHO THINK YOU SHOULD

TLDR at end

ALL RIGHT FUCKING NERDS YOU WANNA BE ONE OF THOSE WEIRDOS THAT WALKS AROUND TAKING POLAROIDS IN THE 2024TH YEAR OF DIVINE ABANDONMENT BUT DONT KNOW WHERE TO START? LET ME HELP YOU NOT WASTE HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS IN TRIAL AND ERROR LIKE I HAVE AND GIVE AN ACTUAL HELPFUL GUIDE AND WHAT TO EXPECT!

First the film

Polaroid film come in a few kinds main two are I-Type and 600 Film (SX-70 & 8x10 are for cameras were not discussing in this thread as those are for geeks not nerds), both are essentally the same except 600 film has the battery in the casette that older Polaroid cameras need to function and the I-type is the same size and shape casette sans the battery for new cameras and this is the most important note regarding film you want crystal clear sharp images and bright blues and greens like a phone pic but on a instant film get an instax why?

Polaroid 2024 is not Polaroid 1984

modern polaroid started out as a company called "the impossible project" in 2008 who purchased all the equipment to make polaroid film when Polaroid was shutting its door BUT because whofuckingknows why Polaroid said "nuh-uh" to selling the actual formulation of the film which died with the company so the Impossible Project just had to home brew it with what was available. as a end result Modern Polaroid film is thicker so a cartridge holds 8 shots now instead of 10, and is as sensitive and tempermental as a serial killer ferret, that is to say not at all and very. you can shoot a wall of blue in a blue museum with a blue filter over the lens and the film will still have a warm hue to it, and while direct light during the developing stage of Polaroid back in the day overdeveloped it jnto hell nowadays it can not be overdeveloped so easily in direct light as an extra 3 seconds in the winter sun or 10 seconds under a lamp can help it come out nicer but im jumping ahead.

Fujifilm Instax,

however has had their film in production since 1998 and is very capable of producing clear quality shots with very accurate color and a price per exposure half that of polaroids and cost for entry is far cheaper than Polaroid overall so pickup an instax mini/square (or wide if you're weird) camera while its smaller itll be that "phone pic but on film" clarity youre looking for

see the difference below and how Polaroid on the left cant do a pure white where the blues become purple because of the everpresent warm cast in polaroid whereas Instax on the right can do a pure white so the color is better with in my opinion a slight blue cast

NOW FOR THE REST OF US MASSOCHISTS WHO WANT TO GO POLAROID?

this is very important

Dont Buy one of the new ones off the shelf they are garbage look for slect retro to 2017 models!

what kind of retro camera to buy? do I need to summon Glasya-Labolas out of the Ars Goetia* going into thrift stores to find one? maybe, to that second question but let me show you the basic differences with the way-too many cameras I own first and show you with what to look for on ebay and in thrift shops. I paid no more than $45 for any one of these cameras and most were under $30 and to me that is a comfortable price that i would say is a good starting range

* please dont actually summon Glasya-Labolas just ask Lucifer its easier

BEHOLD MY COLLECTION

now these are 6 different cameras right? WRONG 2 of these are functionally identical, one is functionaly identical but tries poorly not to be one in theory works well so what youre looking at here is really 4 different types of camera of which 2 are actually worth purchasing.

Polaroids function by a series of plastic lenses* concentrating the picture to a mirror when the shutter opens and that mirror reflects onto the film which functionally classifies Polaroid as a Box Camera. what you need to focus on is one simple feature and that is the Focusing

*not all polaroids have a plastic lens there Is a series called the SX-70 and a 8x10 model that has glass lenses it's a reflex camera and other features for really sharp pics but thats for geeks not nerds we are nerds here

retro/vintage polaroids all (except exactly one unit) have a auto light meter that auto adjusts the esposure time to get the best brightness and worked reliably well on old film but on new film youre going to want to make use of the exposure compensation bar under the lens and bump it up at least half way (it even says to adjust the compensation by 1/3 up on the film box so this is a thing known by the company)

now FOCUSING is a whole mixed bag and focusing on old polaroids works in one of 4 ways (except the SX-70 and 8x10 cameras)

images to follow descriptions

1- FIXED FOCUS

the every day run of the mill Polaroid (and instax to greater extent) camera it has the sharpest clarity at 4 feet okayish up to 12 feet and 4 to 12 feet ONLY, this is 95% of what you will find in Polaroids as this was the most common way they were made and offers decent pics in the "tea steeped for one minute too short with almost enough tea leafs" type of decent, like sure maybe some people like it that way and alot of people who dont drink tea wouldnt be able to tell you the difference except that its weak and is "fine enough" but why would you if you have choices

how to identify - again its the vast majority of the 600 cameras youll see, if the face looks like some variation of these faces then its a fixed length

2- little plasitc filter shit "Close up lens"

this little fucking thing is the biggest lie ever made on any product, take the fixed focus camera that functions decently enough then add a psuedo magnfying glass wannabe filter you slide out in front of the lens that is supposed to give you a 2 to 4 feet of focus length, it doesnt, it adds a weird halo around the edges and over concentrates light onto the film bleaching out what little cool tone colors you have while adding a warped bluring to what little detail you can make out. these are somewhat common for all of the newer ones (post 1997 to closure in 2008 except the spectra and "one" which dont buy either as its not supported and lacks stuff again getting ahead of myself) as Polaroid just ended up throwing them on by default for the sake of a feature

how to identify - it has a little slider on it that shows two different focal lengths to the left of the lens

to see what i mean about destroying your photos with this camera style, that ring around the edge is the edge of the lens cover that covers your lens and in that focus area it overmagnified the available light and burnt the film

3- Sonar Autofocus

Sonar Autofocusing uses a Sound wave that humans cant hear that in nanoseconds chirps out and then guages how quick it takes for that sound to reach back to the camera and then selects one of 5 zones of focused lenses closet being shapest at 3 feet but can still pull some ok detail at 2, based on that, these can produce really sharp pics so long as

a- you're not in a room with horrifyingly loud muic

b- a room competing to be an anechoic chamber

c- not trying to shoot through a window*

these are kina iffy to find but not impossible

how to identify - it has a big-ol gold disc on the face of it cant miss it

*some models let you bypass the AF to focus on the default 4 to 12 feet focus length while allowing for the flash bypass trigger † to be used for shooting through windows or in situations where the sonar might not work for your photo

† not all models

4- IR autofocus

uses an IR beam in the flash to send a "wink" to a reciever under the viewfinder to choose one of 2 focusd lenses (think the "close up lens" but automatic and inside in the camera) the af cant be turned off nor can you bypass the flash on all models as the mechanism needs the flash bar to focus, it still cant shoot through windows since it needs flash and has three less focus ranges, and like all IR based AF on any camera it can misread very easily

somewhat hardish to find since these were made starting in 1997 and Polaroid went down hill quickly after the advent of affordable digital cameras (The last model ever made Polaroid one has an IR sensor and so do some spectras but as stated previously dont bother with them)

After digital cameras and the digital revolution in the late 90s/ early 2000s people no longer needed a polaroid camera to send pics for insurance claims or to take nudes without having to worry about a developing studio seeing them, Oh yeah outside of professional settings polaroids were mostly used to share nudes as before them you could ask your local film studio who had the biggest dick in town and get a factual answer, if you diddnt know that well now you do, so post 97 models id stay away from even though some of them are cool and futiger aero designed like the Polaroid One 600, which is the last model ever made by Polaroid before closing and selling all there stuff (except the film formulation) to The Impossible Project but due to all the cost cutting that was being done its not worth it looking for one for anything other than a collectable because its missing the most important factor needed for impossible film the exposure compensation meter despite having an improved IR AF over the 97 model

below pic left to right is a mid 90s polaroid and the last model Polaroid 600 One

What was that I said about something called the "spectra" earlier?

yes the spectra would have been the polaroid to get however the impossible project gave up on it due to spectras uniqueness and the issues that came along with it. see the spectra 1200 film was a touch wider than the regular 600 film and its rollers were very very much made for the old polaroid film that impossible's film no matter how they pinched and squeezed and forced angles and coated what have you they simply brokedown and jammed irreversibly alot so fun to collect but its truely a RIP but for me ill still pick one up one day as a show piece

GREAT SO WHAT DO YOU BUY OUT OF THESE IF I WANT TO HAVE A POLAROID EXPIERENCE ILL LOVE OR ENJOYABLY TOLERATE

answer

the ones with the Sonar auto focus

ideally modles (readable on face above where the pictures come out) Sun 660 AF, Supercolor 670 AF or, Impluse AF

Best will be the Sun 660 AFs or supercolor 670 AFs overall as they have the option to shut off the flash (by pulling the trigger behind the shutter button) and have the sonar focus overrided with a button on the lid (hold it as your taking your photo)

HOWEVER while the Impulse AF might not allow you to turn off the flash or sonar foucs it its one of the few vintage models that have a built in 10 second timer that you can still get film for, and a signifgantly better view finder

all in a slightly sleeker ever so distinctive late 80s early 90s consumer electronics vibe that no retro revival has ever been able to replicate so if that is worth the compromise get one of those (or both its nice to have options but you do not need a 660 and a 670 thats redundant) definately a solid option as well

WHY IS ONE SUN ONE SUPER COLOR SOME ARE LIGHTMIXERS SOME SAY SE WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

marketing terms no functional difference otherwise.

so how big a difference does the Sonar AF make well quite a serious difference

WAIT IM AN ASPIRING GEEK NOW WHATS THE SX-70 PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW!

ugh okay

The SX-70 (this also applies to the 600 film equivalant 680) with sonar AF is arguably the best of the vintage polaroids but any SX-70s is great, glass lenses with manual focus control or on later models sonar focus, you look out the same lens thats taking the pic so you dont have to compensate at all when framing your pic like on a regular Polaroids and worst of all its the camera of choice for the "UUh Acktually" enthusiasts that gatekeep a good expierance with Polaroids away from people who just want to have a decent time without making it their personality so you know what that means!!! yep these are are so gloated and prized about these are the only style vintage polaroids that arent limited edition that frequently go well above the price of the brand new Polaroids no matter how shit the condition sometimes even tripple due to scalping thus these are expensive as all hell, awkward to hold and a pain in the ass to get meanwhile these things need to be modded to accept some modern films specialty flash packs with extra batteries and a bunch of other random little things that make it annoying to use that ill bother to learn about if i see one for under $50 and feel like buying it that day.

SWEET I GOT MY SONAR AUTOFOCUS 660/670/IMPULSE POLAROID HOW DO I GET A GOOD SHOT WITH IT

like i said at the start of this modern Polaroid film is tempermental and despite how much they tell you its light sensitive its not sensitve enough! when i said way back that there is a light meter in them, there is and there is an accompanying slide bar that makes it expose the film longer or shorter in addition to the automatic light meter

when you take a photo using the default exposure "slider in the middle" you will get a underexposed film as an end result see below

this was taken on my Sun 660 AF SE and while i got super sharp detail that made my eyes cry when i first saw it because up to this time ive only dealt with fix focused cameras. it was WAY dark so i moved the exposure compensation up a few times to

There and and the end result was

DETAIL, COLOR, EVERHING YOU COULD WANT IN A MODERN DAY POLAROID PIC and better yet entirely repeatable.

(note other pics i trialed and errored had just as good results with the adjuster sitting at the base of the arrow but not as wow as this)

IF ITS COLD/ HOT OUTSIDE DOES THAT AFFECT THE FILM

yes too cold film or too hot film will make the phots come out a pale blue if its cold or a pale magenta if its hot (which is very meta) while some people take advantage of this to make monocromatic film in an artsy way you might not want to so keep that in mind you need to keep the film in a comfortable temprature zone of

55 – 82° Freedom units

13 – 28° Complementary Healthcare units

getting a bag that has a insulated space for a cold pack can help in the heat but if its cold out you can do the same as above but with a hot pack OR when you take the photo as soon as the fiolm is finshed being ejected out take it out and put it right into your pocket or in your coat under your arm to warm it up during the development stage. really old Polaroid cameras used to come with a "cold clip" for this exact use

CAN I USE ONE FILM CASETTE FOR MORE THAN ONE CAMERA ONCE ITS BEEN PUT IN A CAMERA THIS SHITS KINDA EXPENSIVE

absolutely... not without damaging the top two sheets of film (thus 1/4 or .25% of the casette a total loss), just accept that once the film is installed its committed to that camera dont worry for the intrusive thougts I have examples of what happens the pic on the right was the exposure at the top of the casette and the left was the one after it. i swapped the casette in a fairly dark car at night and what you see on the left is a sonar auto focus camera trying to take a pic of some street lights through a window on damaged film.

ARE THERE ANY THINGS I MUST CONSIDER THAT I WOULDNT THINK ABOUT OVERTLY OTHERWISE

Yes just like being a fan of Taylor Swift there is a underlying level of ecological damage that you might be doing but is realistically negligable when compared to the environmental damage unregulated and underegulated industries produce and when compared to general overconsumption waste things like fast fashion and water bottle trends produce (and is 100% lead free).

Polaroid 600 and SX film Cassettes that Polaroid film is stored in are made of 3 main pieces, the plastic shell, metal spring piece (both parts of which can be recycled) and a lithium ion battery that is used to operate the camera, now there is a way to recycle them that involves breaking out the plastic front and seperating out the metal piece to put into the recycle and taking the battery to recycle at a place that recycles lith-ion batteries, however if you do not have such facilities available to you unfortunately it kinda becomes a chuck it in the trash thing. but keep in mind your maybe half a dozen or so film cartridges or cartridge batteries that wind up in the trash over a year or so arent going to add in any meaningful or impactful way to the the cause of global climate change or detonate thermonuclear bombs of battery acid onto baby seaturtles or anything like that even when millions of people are doing it too. so its entirely up to you to your own concious and/or ability to recycle them

HOWEVER if you want a battery free casette option so you can recycle more easily you can get one of the 2017 Polaroid OneStep 2 or One Step 2+ Cameras that use a built in rechargeable battery and you can get the I-Type film that does not have a battery in the casette keep in mind these cameras are discontinued and as a result of being one of the only good post-polaroid closure instant cameras under the Polaroid name they are being scalped online as far as prices go

I HOPE YOU FOUND THIS INFOGUIDE HELPFUL AND THANK YOU FOR READING

THE TLDR

new polaroid film wil alway be warm hued and unexposed and as for polaroid cameras available in stores new ones suck, most of the retro are meh ,to expensive for no reason. Buy a polaroid sun 660 af or supercolor 670 af but if you dont want to be able to shoot without flash or shoot through glass by turning off the auto focus and would like a 10 second timer instead get a the Impulse AF and slam up the exposure to very nearly all the way up to where the adjuster is on the arrow's middle or lower half if you want a model that has a rechargeable battery instead of a battery in the film casette to reduce e-waste and make it easier to recycle get a 2017 Polaroid Originals One Step2 or One Step2 + to use the battery free I-type film

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cleverhottubmiracle · 4 months ago

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Storing food scraps in the freezer is the ultimate hack for extending their storage life—and TV host, mom and restaurateur Molly Yeh is partnering with Ziploc to make that process easier. She’s teamed up with the reusable storage bag brand to develop the World’s First Frozen Cookbook, which features a collection of food preservation tips, freezer meal prep ideas and more. The aim is to help home cooks reduce their food waste as data from Feeding America reveals that around 145 billion meals are wasted in the U.S. each year. (For a family of four, this is estimated to be $1,500 worth of food that’s thrown away annually.) We spoke with Molly about her approach to reducing food waste and the partnership with Ziploc in creating the World’s First Frozen Cookbook. Plus, read until the end for an exclusive recipe from the cookbook and details on how to purchase it. Ziploc® First for Women: Where does your passion for minimizing food waste stem from? Molly Yeh: I grew up with a dad whose biggest fear in life was watching food go in the garbage. He would scrape the mold off of cheese and then eat the cheese before it would go in the trash. So that type of mentality is instilled in me. I won’t do the moldy cheese thing unless it’s mold that’s supposed to be there. But, I have just this passion inside of me for not letting food go to waste. That became heightened after having kids when I realized how many food scraps accumulate when you have little kids who don’t want to eat the crust off their peanut butter and jelly, or who need to have their vegetables cut into cute shapes if they’re going to eat them. I like doing that stuff and making really cute lunches for my daughter and cutting her vegetables out into cute shapes. But there’s also a very real thing happening on the other side of the camera, which is all of these scraps. And so, I’ve always gotten a lot of joy out of repurposing food. FFW: How did your partnership with Ziploc come about? Yeh: I think the world manifested it because I use Ziplocs. I’ve used them forever and they are my go-to for my food scrap saving system. I like their bags because they are durable and really good at just keeping the smells out and they’re strong enough to reuse. Another thing that my dad instilled in me is that just like you don’t throw away food scraps, you don’t throw away a perfectly good plastic bag just because it had some vegetables in it. So my system is that I keep a few Ziploc bags in my freezer that I add to over time. I have a bread bag, a veggie bag, a fruit bag and I also have a bag for stock ingredients that I add chicken bones to and the ends of the onion that you wouldn’t want to eat, but they’d be perfectly good for stock. FFW: Can you offer a glimpse into the process of creating the ‘World’s First Frozen Cookbook’? Yeh: This [storage] system is kind of synthesized in this frozen cookbook because the book has three compartments to put these three different bags. The concept is you use this book to store your three scrap bags and you accumulate them over time, and then once you’re ready to reuse them, the scraps and then you have the recipes right there in the book. I think it’s a really fun way of shining a light on this conversation around food scraps and food waste because it’s a big issue. FFW: What’s one ingredient that needs more consideration when it comes to storing it in the freezer? Yeh: The one ingredient that comes to mind that needs some more consideration is rice. I love to freeze rice, but it’s important though, when you’re adding it to the bag, you’re definitely going to want to freeze it flat. When you’re ready to reuse it, what you can do is just take the flat sheet of rice out of the freezer, break off pieces of it and toss it into a stir-fry or even just microwave it. Whereas if it’s frozen into a big lump, it’s going to be difficult to just use part of it, you would have to use the whole thing and you might not want to. Ziploc® Bonus: Easy freezer prep fried Rice recipe This Ginger Scallion Fried Rice recipe comes from the World’s First Frozen Cookbook, which calls for using your very own frozen veggies to make this savory and aromatic dish in 30 minutes. The cookbook is releasing in limited quantities on Amazon every day this week for $10. But, if you’re unable to secure a copy, check out Ziploc’s website as you can find more recipes like this from Molly. Ginger Scallion Fried Rice Ziploc® Ingredients: 2 Tbs. neutral oil, such as avocado or vegetable, plus more as needed 6 cups chopped frozen vegetables (such as broccoli, bell peppers, green beans, carrots, onion, celery, etc.) 4 chopped scallions, whites and greens separated 4 tsp. grated ginger 2 tsp. finely chopped garlic Kosher salt 4 cups fresh or frozen white or brown rice 2 tsp. sesame oil 1 Tbs. soy sauce For serving: 4 fried eggs Kewpie (Japanese mayo), optional Sriracha, chili crisp or your favorite hot sauce Furikake Directions: Freezing instructions: Whenever you find a vegetable on its last leg or are only using a portion of what you bought, chop up the rest, place them in a gallon-sized freezer bag, and preserve them in the freezer (in your frozen cookbook) until you’re ready to use them. Cooking instructions: In a large (preferably nonstick) skillet, heat the neutral oil over medium high. Add the vegetables, and cook, stirring only once or twice, until heated through and slightly golden brown, 5 to 6 minutes. If the pan looks dry, add another drizzle of oil. Add the scallion whites, ginger, garlic and a couple of pinches of salt. Cook until softened and fragrant, about 2 minutes more. Add the rice, sesame oil, and soy sauce, and toss to combine. Spread everything out in an even layer and cook, undisturbed, for about 3 to 5 minutes, until the bottom gets a little crispy. Scrape up the bottom and give it a few tosses. Taste and adjust seasoning as desired. Serve in bowls topped with a fried egg, kewpie (if using), hot sauce, furikake, and the reserved scallion greens. Source link

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norajworld · 4 months ago

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chilimili212 · 4 months ago

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breakingnewsbreakthrough · 9 months ago

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Monday, September 16, 2024

Football, Oprah, and P. Diddy

approx. 10:30 a.m. EDT: "Kamala Harris, Oprah Winfrey to hold livestream rally from Michigan"

I never realized Oprah was politically active. There's a certain image of her I've never been able to shake, whether it's a result of my age or the fact my mother watched a lot of daytime TV. Every time I see her, I just think of free cars and prizes under seats. Perhaps that's reductive, given her long career as a journalist, but I'm not sure "Oprah" and "political rally" belong in the same sentence.

12:31 p.m. EDT: "Michigan Football to start Alex Orji at quarterback on Saturday vs. USC"

I will never understand why The Detroit News considers every banal college and professional sports update to be breaking news. I promise I'm not signed up for any sports updates. I suppose I'm happy for him. Or sad. Whichever.

1:14 p.m. EDT: "Second man dies after Eastern Market shooting"

I hope it doesn't seem like I'm making light of this situation, but I don't think Detroit can have successful sports teams. Follow me for a second, if you will: Philadelphia is notorious for the destruction that follows sporting events. I once heard it said "Whether the Eagles win or lose, a car is being lit on fire." Detroit is becoming like that. Our teams were all garbage, so disappointment was all but assured, and no one had to get hurt about it. Gun violence isn't as common here as some think, yet the second our newly-decent football team loses, someone picks a deadly fight at a tailgate. I was also shocked that the TV news didn't consider the initial event to be important enough to cover at 7pm, about an hour after it happened.

3:32 p.m. EDT: "Jeep cuts production of Gladiators and Wranglers at Toledo plant"

Something something Motor City. I know a lot of people whose parents are employed by the Big Three, but I cannot bring myself to follow every corporate twitch of the automotive industry. This one is also novel for the pure fact that it mentions Ohio, one of the Michigan cardinal sins.

10:34 p.m. EDT: "Sean 'Diddy' Combs faces federal charges in New York, his lawyer says"

Send this man to jail. I don't care about anything he's ever made that people have ever liked, and if I have to hear one more person bring up his relationship to Biggie, I'm going to lose it. Being the protégé of a beloved man does not make you better, above reproach, or incapable of committing crimes. It might make you incapable of committing crimes in places not recorded by security cameras, but that also may just be a Diddy problem.

On a personal note:

I'm not sure what to write here. Journalism school has been frustrating in both familiar and completely new ways, and I've never felt worse about my writing. I skipped out on keeping a journal in my adolescence (unless the occasional embarrassing tumblr post counts), which is odd when you consider my general affect, both then and now. I've never felt the need to put my reflections in writing - I spend enough time in my own head - but perhaps getting these mundane thoughts out in a directed manner will stop me from taking a long walk off a bridge named after some hockey player.

Until tomorrow,

#september 2024

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hoesinthishouse13o7 · 2 years ago

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I love this. As a guy with anger management, it's endlessly painful to see people say, "He killed bonnie! Why? Because he's angry, that's what angry people do. " I've never hurt anyone, ask my friends/family (@hydrajones, @fandom-gal44), I'm the safest guy ever. They know I'd never hurt them.

I also relate to the Monty, who was an innocent sweet gator with big dreams, before something happened to make him uncontrollably angry.

Speaking of relating to Monty, my personal theories for why he is so angry and misses showtimes are based on things I experience:

tldr: he has sensory issues, with light at least (I mean, the guy literally wears sunglasses indoors), and he's a gator who is no longer getting the level of enrichment he used to by being trapped in his green room and having a packed schedule.

So first, THE MAN IS WORKING 18HR DAYS EVERY DAY, with no holiday breaks because money, AROUND SCREAMING CHILDREN, AND KARENS, UNDER EXTREMELY BRIGHT LIGHTS AND LOUD SOUNDS AND WHEN HE'S NOT PERFORMING HE IS STUCK IN SMALL ASS ROOM, literally in a cage, ON DISPLAY LIKE A ZOO ANIMAL! Also he doesn't get to hang out with coworkers/friends because they go straight to their rooms, the only break he gets is for 6hrs at night when he's patrolling the pizza plex as extra security, so basically his break is a 2nd job (3rd, 4th? I'm losing track of how many jobs the glamrocks have), and if you pay attention, all the other animatronics are having massive breakdowns as well (minus DJMM, probably). Chica stress eats fucking garbage, Roxy has massive self-esteem issues, Sun and Moon have insanely high anxiety (they both clean obsessively & micromanage where the children are) that affect their personalities in different ways, and Freddy is severely depressed.

Sensory issues; we all know the animatronics are affected by bright flashing lights and certain loud sounds (AKA Chica screaming). But Monty seems to be the most affected by light out of all of them. He wears sunglasses 24/7 (maybe Bonnie gave him the sunglasses because he knew how badly he reacted to light). All the areas associated with him are dark as hell. He intentionally broke all the lights in his green room & always keeps the curtains shut. He likes hanging out in the Gator Golf rafters- one of the darkest areas in the game- despite having injured himself up there before. Not to mention, he has the severest reaction to being hit with the camera flash/fazer blaster. The other animatronics will yell something about their eyes or being hurt, but Monty just SCREAMS.

Enrichment; I know from my own experiences with anger management that exercise helps A LOT. Anger naturally makes you want to do physical activity, like using a punching bag or lifting weights to flush the adrenaline from your system. I know when I'm having a bad day, I exercise fairly intensely to calm myself down. I believe this is true for Monty as well since he spends all his "free" time in the greenroom destroying shit and all his real free time after hours running and leaping around the Pizzaplex. Not to mention, the thing that you take from the anamatronics to upgrade Freddy represent things that are really important to them. Roxy's eyes, since she cares deeply about her appearance. And Chica's beak, because she loves eating. And what do we take from Monty? His legs, his ability to run around, climb up into the rafter, etc. This tells me that doing those things was a MASSIVE source of joy for him.

Also, from Monty's voice lines I get the feeling that he likes kids and is great with them (I believe all the animatronics are, like how Roxy immediately puts aside her personal issues when Cassie was around) BUT that many kids under those conditions for that long would be rough on anyone, even people who love kids.

Obviously, he liked performing and was extatic to be in the band, but he's been burned out, and Faz Ent has clearly sapped all the joy out of performing.

What's your opinion on Monty?

Oh I've been waiting for an ask like this to come across my inbox after how popular my Bonnie theories have been. (full theory and spoilers under the cut)

Short answer: I think he's neat!

Long answer: I think Montgomery Gator is one of, if not the, most tragic character in the entire Glamrock cast. And his tragedy, while of course upsetting to see, is also incredibly endearing from a narrative standpoint.

What does that mean? Well, let me explain.

Monty was not made to be part of the band. That much we know in the canon lore. He was his own animatronic, with his own attraction and his own thing. Whether or not he was there from the very beginning when the Pizzaplex was built, or maybe they added him later to bring in more diversity and subvert the burden on the main band, I don't think we'll ever know. (since every main band member has their own attraction, which probably subtracts from their available time to perform main shows throughout the day)

The only bits and pieces we get of Monty's "life" before his joining the band is narrated through the Gator Golf attraction.

Monty's story starts with him as a One Man Jug Band, playing by himself in his swamp.

Now it's already pretty apparent that the Monty we see here is way more docile and doe-eyed than the one we encounter in Security Breach, but maybe that's the point.

We all know the stories of humble beginnings, of rags to riches. To me, Monty was one of those stories. A little guy who ended up catching a big break down the line.

Now to get this out of the way, I don't believe Monty shattered Bonnie or the theory that Monty hated Bonnie (I went into detail here if you want the full explanation). We actually can easily debunk that theory in a few different ways, but the main thing is everything we see about Monty implies he actually admired Bonnie.

In his ride you see how he looks at Bonnie, His Showtime outfit incorporates yellow stars (like Bonnie), and he even still uses Bonnie's bass.

Now if you hate someone, if you hate them enough to kill them and take their place because you felt you deserved their fame, would you emulate that person? Would you use and wear their items, thereby constantly reminding yourself of someone you hate so much? Why would you go through the trouble of getting rid of them, of wiping them from everyone's memory, just to keep things that will always tie you to them? That doesn't make much sense to me.

You could argue that the items are trophies of his 'kill', but wouldn't you keep trophies or things of the like somewhere no one could see them? Why flaunt them and again, bring attention to this person that you hate so very much?

I think it's the exact opposite. Monty admired Bonnie, the depths of which we probably won't ever know the extent of, and when Bonnie disappeared, Monty took his place but never forgot the person who got him there. He wears Bonnie's glasses (which we never see Bonnie wear aside from in his neon portrait, which may imply that he might have given the shades to Monty directly at some time before he was shattered) and he uses Bonnie's bass, which was ALSO given to him according to the Gator Golf ride

I've seen people say that this scene is actually showing that Bonnie was just setting his bass aside after a show and Monty stole it, thereby using it for his own gain and I. . .don't see how people can infer that from the image? It looks like Bonnie is literally holding it out to Monty, who is on one knee and accepting it with respect and a cheerful expression on his face. Besides, you need some MASSIVE balls to just. . .steal a band's instrument after the show and just get away with it? Especially from what we see in game, there'd be no feasible way Monty could do that without the audience or technicians being like "What the fuck are you doing"

So yeah no, this looks like a mutual passing of the torch.

Anyways, Monty uses the shades and bass as a nod to Bonnie, he was a sweetheart with a baby face who got thrown into fame to replace his idol. I think, in some regards, Monty might've felt conflicted. Like, here he is in his dream job, but at the cost of someone he cared about.

You know who Monty DID hate though? Freddy. We can infer from plenty of sources and in game material that Monty HATED Freddy, and the reasoning for that could be literally anything, but it's not odd for a bandmate to dislike their leader/member because they're more popular (you see it a lot in IRL bands too, the favoritism and jealousy)

It's also easy to see that fame changed Monty, as it does for plenty of people. Having so many eyes on you, feeling the euphoria of all the love and attention day in and day out, it gets to your head. It changes who you are, muddles your humility. And we can see that Monty acts in the stereotypical Rocker way, conceited, destroys his greenroom and other things after shows, etc. It's an all too common trope and its sad to see it happen to Monty, though a lot of his rage could also be compounded by Glitchtrap/Vanny/Mimic being annoying (Notably, you never hear of Monty destroying his shades or his bass. Perhaps there are some things that he's oddly protective of)

And then in the main Security Breach, you only meet Monty at his worst. Angry, Corrupted, feral. You spend your time running from him (since Bonnie's shades protect him from most of Gregory's gimmicks), you hear from second-hand conjecture that he was probably the one who shattered Bonnie (which probably weighs on him too, the children asking where Bonnie is, and the technicians maybe side-eyeing him thinking that he's just a meathead who destroyed Bonnie to take his place) and each time you see him, he just gets more and more split from that sweetheart who was happily playing in his swamp.

Not to mention how he "dies"

Monty comes for Cassie, ruined beyond salvation, his mind still gone from all of the torment he endured being controlled and shattered over and over. To save herself, Cassie uses the Faz-wrench to activate the power and escape, only for the electric currents to turn the water into a death trap.

The thing that decommissions Monty, that finally puts him out of his misery, is Bonnie. That's Bonnie's neon portrait (a bit damaged from the dilapidated building) and it is the very thing that electrifies the water, destroying Monty's hardware. Whether or not its karma for Monty shattering Bonnie, or some sort of heartfelt prose that the thing that finally allows Monty to rest is the one person he cared about most, who's to say? You could argue it both ways, but isn't it just a tad more comforting to think that even in death, Bonnie was always looking out for his understudy?

Monty's story and character progression is a trope of Falling from Grace, of Icarus flying too close to the Sun and plummeting to the unforgiving earth. The more I learn about him, the more I feel bad for him. I think he deserved better. Roxanne for her redemption in Ruin, but Monty is left open-ended. A monster and murderer to some, a washed-up rocker to others.

But I think Montgomery was more than that. I think he had the capacity for gentleness and love, but he was in a position where the world was against him. His older and more experienced bandmates always destined to be loved more than him. He was basically an entry level teenager around mastery level adults. He might've lost his mind back then to the pressure and the negativity, resorting to violence for attention. No one was there for him, and Bonnie, the only person who probably would've been there for him and understood him better than most, disappeared without a trace, leaving him all alone in a world that would never fully accept him.

Yeah, I like Monty a lot.

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wilwheaton · 4 years ago

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I have more of an opinion question for you. When fans of things hear about misconduct happening on sets/behind-the-scenes are they allowed to still enjoy the thing? Or should it be boycotted completely? Example: I’ve been a major fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer since I was a teenager and it was currently airing. I really nerded out on it and when I lost my Dad at age 16 “The Body” episode had me in such cathartic tears. Now we know about Joss Whedon. I haven’t rewatched a single episode since his behavior came to light. As a fan, do I respectfully have to just box that away? Is it disrespectful of the actors that went through it to knowingly keep watching?

I have been precisely where you are, right now. In fact, we were just talking about this a few days ago, as it relates to a guy who wrote a ton of music that was PROFOUND to me when I was a teenager. He wrote about being lonely and feeling unloved, and all the things I was feeling as a teenager.

He grew up to be a reprehensible bigot, and for years I couldn't listen to one of the most important bands in my life anymore.

But this week, someone pointed out that he was one member of a group that all worked together to make that thing that was so important to me. And the person he was when he wrote those lyrics is not the person he is today. And the person I was when I heard those lyrics doesn't deserve to be shoved into a box and put away, because that guy is a shit.

This is a long way of saying that Joss sure turned out to be garbage. Because of who I my friends are, I know stuff that isn't in the public, and it's pretty horrible. He's just not a good person, and apparently never was a good person.

BUT! Buffy is more than him. It's all the actors and crew who made it. It's all the writers who aren't Joss. Joss is part of it, sure, and some of the episodes he wrote are terrific.

At least one of the episodes he wrote was deeply meaningful to you at a moment in your life when you'd experienced a loss I can only imagine. The person you are now, and the 16 year-old you were who just lost their dad, are more important than the piece of shit Joss Whedon revealed himself to be.

His bad behavior is on him. He has to live with it, and the consequences of it.

16 year-old you, who just lost their dad, shouldn't have to think about what a shit Joss Whedon is for even a second. That kid, and you, deserve to have that place to revisit when you need to go there.

I can't speak for the other actors, even the ones I know. But I will tell you, as an abuse survivor myself who never wanted to be in front of the camera when he was a kid: it's really okay for you to enjoy the work. The work is good and meaningful, and if nobody is going to watch it because of what one piece of shit did two decades ago, what was it all for?

I'm not the pope of chilitown, so take this for what it's worth: I believe that when some piece of art is deeply meaningful to a person, for whatever reason, that art doesn't belong to the person who created it, if it ever did. It belongs to the person who found something meaningful in the art.

If it feels right to you to put it away and never look at it again, that's totally valid. But if it brings you comfort, or joy, or healing, or just warm familiarity to bring it out and spend some time with it, that's totally valid, too.

I've written a lot of words. I hope some of them make sense and are helpful to you.

15K notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment.

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly.

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches.

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.”

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest.

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement.

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room.

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you.

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up.

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently.

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric?

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends.

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back.

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her.

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.”

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school.

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High.

Cut all ties now. You have two days.

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon.

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.”

“It’s none of your business, Zara.”

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders.

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym.

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle.

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left.

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand.

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning.

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door.

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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Your Ass Is Out of This World (Kelley x Reader)

Request: alex or kelley or sonnett x reader where they've been dating for a few years R is an astronaut for NASA and she gets to go to space

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog cause without her, none of this would have happened.

Kelley wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up standing next to a dive bar sipping a lukewarm beer on a Friday night. In her defense, Ali and Ashlyn had convinced her it would be fun and had promised to pay for the Uber rides both ways. It had been fun for a while, dancing with them to some old 70s songs on the light-up dance floor, but half an hour ago they had disappeared off into a hallway somewhere, and she had no intention of third-wheeling (she knew she should have convinced Alex to join them). But she also wasn’t going to leave without them, because she wasn’t convinced either of them were sober enough to take any kind of transportation safely (someone needed to be there to make sure they didn’t puke in someone’s car).

So here she was, standing by the bar waiting for her friends’ sexcapades to be over, nursing her drink. The clink of a glass settling in front of her caught her attention. She blinked at the bartender. “I didn’t order another one,”

The man’s lips ticked up and he shrugged. “Lady on the end paid for it. Said you looked sad,”

Kelley looked up, following the man’s eyes towards a woman standing a few seats down the bar from her. She was also standing alone but was dressed as though for a different event altogether. Kelley had embraced the 70s theme of the bar slightly, wearing a jumpsuit and a scarf around her head, but this woman had just thrown a white NASA shirt--like the one Kelley got for her little cousin at Target-- over a pair of black jeans. As she bobbed her head to the music she met Kelley’s eyes and smiled.

Kelley took that as her invitation to approach. Kelley’s eyes traced her form, lingering on the white material. She didn’t know those came in adult sizes...

“You must be a star, I can't stop orbiting around you” Kelley smiled charmingly as she approached you, setting her beer on the bar beside you and settling in the seat to the left of yours.

“I do believe I was the one to buy you the drink…” you said, your lips twitching as you tried to keep a serious expression. “Shouldn’t I be the one throwing pickup lines here?”

“You bought me the drink, so I get to be the one to woo you. I’m Kelley, are you from Mars? 'cuz I wanna explore you with curiosity.” Kelley said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, enjoying the light blush coloring your cheeks.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “that was terrible. I mean really good but absolutely awful.”

“At least I got you to smile, but you still haven’t told me your name.” Kelley laughed, taking a sip of her beer. She was prepared to lay on the horrible pick up lines for your entertainment.

“I’m Y/n,” you said, putting down your drink and holding out your hand, “pleasure.”

“They call me the milky way...Pleasure You Can't Measure,” Kelley smiled, shaking your hand as you laughed and pulling you a little closer “Why look at the moon, if I can’t touch it? Why look at your lips, if I can't kiss them,” she said, winking so you knew she was completely joking.

“How do you know so many of these?” You said, shaking your head in awe. “ All I know off the top of my head is ‘do you work for NASA? Because you’re out of this world!’”

“Ah, a magician never reveals her secrets,” Kelley whispered conspiratoryly, bringing her hand up to cover her lips. “but my team and I have definitely had flirt offs for bonding nights,”

“Your team?”

“Yeah, I play soccer for the US and Washington,” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge accomplishment.

Your eyes widened and you nearly spat out your drink. “Didn’t they, like, just win a World Cup?”

“Yeah, No biggie,” Kelley said, side-eyeing you as she took another sip.

“No biggie? I’m surprised you don’t have a swarm of paparazzi shadowing you, that’s incredible! Weren’t the USWNT like the most successful US team in soccer?’

“Hm, there’s not enough drama for them, but we don’t mind. How about you? What do you do beautiful?” Kelley hummed.

“Oh. I work for NASA,” you said, gesturing at the shirt. “I can’t wait to bring some of those lines back to work.”

“What??”

****

“So do they at least give you a good choice of flavors? So you don’t get bored and stuff?” Emily asked from across the table, licking her dripping I cream cone.

When your girlfriend decided to introduce you to the team after their match against Colombia, you were quite surprised she had chosen an ice cream shop as a venue. But with how food motivated the youngins seemed, you realized how appropriate it was.

“I mean,” you said, your spoon suspended in the air as you blinked at Emily, “ice cream isn’t the only thing we will eat. I’m going to be on the station for like 8 months. Ice cream is not a balanced diet.”

“But it’s the only one they sell in the stores. You don’t have to lie cause the veggie lovers are here,” The defender said, leaning across the table, as though it would prevent the rest of the table from hearing her.

“Babe, you literally love most veggies too,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, using her thumb to wipe a spot of chocolate ice cream from Emily’s nose.

“Actually, I heard they’re a pretty good selection of dehydrated fruits and veggies and MRE’s and Tortillas and stuff. Plus I get to take a few things from home…” You mumbled, leaning back.

She couldn’t be serious right? There was no way she thought you were supposed to sustain yourself on horrible freeze-dried dairy products for that long. Not to mention, freeze-dried ‘astronaut’ products for the most part weren’t actually possible to bring to space, with how crumbly they are. You were more likely to eat actual ice cream on the space station (less chance for an errant crumb being inhaled or destroying an important piece of equipment) than that gift shop garbage.

“Oh yeah, MRE sounds way more likely than just eating the stuff they literally label as being for astronauts…” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “What does that even stand for? ‘Must reject Emily?”

You opened your mouth to answer, eyebrows furrowed, only for Kelley to nudge you softly.

“It’s not worth the fight babe, trust me. Not the brightest lighthouse if you know what I mean,” Your girlfriend made a swirling motion with her finger next to her temple.

You leaned in closer so your lips were nearly touching her ear. “She’s not serious right?”

“I never joke about ice cream,” Emily answered seriously.

You blinked at her, looking to your girlfriend who just shrugged and raised her eyebrows.

“I’m, I’m not sure if they have a flavor rotation system for ice cream flavors. We haven’t been… briefed on that yet,” you nodded seriously.

…...

“Can you hear me?” Kelley said, tapping her fingers impatiently as your face appeared in the video call.

“He- -utiful,” You smiled through the glitchy computer screen. Your waving was broken up like a bad claymation. You leaned in to make out the fuzzy figures standing behind your girlfriend, assuming she was at camp or something.

Normal long distance sucked, but literally being off-planet really made things difficult. It wasn’t like Kelley could just text you when she missed you, or randomly call you when she missed you at 3 am. Sure, she could email and you made a tremendous effort to schedule calls once a month, but it was still incredibly difficult (and slightly weird that a NASA tech dude had to monitor each call to make sure the connection stayed up). And sometimes even the best video-calling technology had issues. Like today (when a giant satellite or piece of space trash would block the signal).

“Are you hav- -un at -amp?” You asked, grabbing your floating water pouch pushing out a sip sized water drop.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Kelley said, watching you munch on your water. When you first got on the station you sent her pictures of artwork you made out of different drops of colored water- specifically making a giant water ‘soccer ball’ for her. Then you tried to boop it around and ended up losing control, amusing all your crewmates who watched you trying not to run into too many walls. “We’re looking forward to playing against Brazil on Friday, should be brutal.”

“We’re set to be ov- Florida on -day, so I’ll try and tune into the ga-. Catch a nice - view,” You nodded, wiggling your eyebrows (which looked more like you having a seizure due to how badly you were pixelated).

While Kelley wasn’t entirely sure what you were saying, she went ahead and nodded. “Let me know what you think!”

“Wh- color -it are you w-ing? Y- look -uper s-xy in the -ue,” you said, floating up in a ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose.

“You’re favorite one,” Kelley said, winking at you.

“-es!!” You cheered “-ake p-ture -or -“ the screen flickered dangerously for a second. Before a wobbly picture returned.

“Babe you’re breaking up, I can’t tell what you’re saying. Y/n. Are you there? UGh. I love you! We’ll talk soon.”

“-ove y- -oo”

Kelley blew a slow kiss to her camera before she heard a deep voice saying “Sorry ma’am. The connection was lost. Y’all still have five minutes on your scheduled call- Want me to try calling again? See if the signal improves?”

“Yeah,” Kelley shifted, rubbing the bridge of her nose as typing sounds echoed through the speaker. How she was going to make it through four more months of this she had no idea.

“What if like the ship was attacked by aliens or something,” Sonnett whispered from her left, staring at the blank screen with real trepidation.

“Not possible ma’am,” she heard him laugh. “But I doubt I would have the right level of security clearance to know.”

“great.”

Kelley grabbed a pen and marked a day off the calendar hanging on her wall. So much for ‘phone call with Y/n.’ She sighed. Just a few months to go.

****

Gravity fucking sucked. It was disorienting and heavy and made you sick to your stomach. Space station alums always talked about re-entry and how bad that was, but you thought sitting in a NASA hospital bed while your equilibrium readjusted was way worse than your fireball craft plummeting into the ocean.

“This fucking sucks,” You groaned, again throwing your hand over to pull out the IV. You hated how hard it was to move (and how you actually had to hold up a cup of water to get a drink but that was beside the point).

“Whoa babe, I know you’re a little out of it right now, but that has to stay in. Just try and relax for a little while,” Kelley said, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles.

You frowned at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Don’t wanna be here. Wanna be home with you.”

“I know, but you gotta stay here until the re-entry symptoms have worn off a little more,” She said again. She knew that you weren’t going to be 100% when you stepped out of the spacecraft, but she hadn’t expected you to be so out of it. You were sick to your stomach and entirely unable to walk without assistance.

The doctors assured her that you would be fine (residual effects from not being in gravity for so long and the impact of the landing or whatever), but it was still difficult to watch. It didn’t help that you were a horrendous patient.

“Just watch the game. The US is even in Blue,” Kelley tried to coax. Even she was beginning to grow restless. But you couldn’t leave until you could keep down solid foods.

“I don’t want to watch. You’re not in it,” You said, grabbing the remote from her and turning the television off. Then you tried to set the remote in the air, but instead of hovering like it should have done, it dropped to the ground.

“Alright, commander Y/l/n. It’s dinner time,” one of the NASA hospital nurses said, bringing in a tray for you. Kelley thanked them as they left since you were too dazed to think of it.

“God this food sucks, I hate jello ” you grumbled, lifting the spoon in front of your face (fully expecting it to float so you could take your bite) and dropping it as you want to open the pudding packet instead. “I just want a big juicy cheeseburger. With bacon and onions and-“ You trailed off, your mouth watering at the thought. You hadn’t had proper food in 8 months, and it had been your major cravings food.

“A side of diabetes” she scoffed, picking up the discarded remote and spoon, “And are you going to keep dropping things everywhere?” She asked, carefully filling a spoon with chocolate pudding and guiding it to your mouth.

“Fuck Newton. Things are supposed to float,”

****

You loved the soft skin behind Kelley’s ear. It was so smooth, and it always smelt like a mix of her perfume, shampoo, and something inherently Kelley. It was a bonus that your exploration of the area always sent a shiver down her spine. You ran your nose along the skin there, nibbling on her ear before moving down her neck. Leaving little kisses along your path. Kelley sighed, sleepily scratching your scalp and tilting her head to the side to encourage you to continue.

“You,” Kelley said. “ I like you.”

“Hm, I’m glad. It would be kinda scary if you were doing this with someone you didn’t like,” you mumbled against her skin, unwilling to part with it for even a moment. Kelley giggled at the tickling sensation. How you still had so much energy after you had thoroughly worn her out getting… reacquainted she would never know.

“But what do you like most. Tell me, babe,” You said, moving your lips a little lower, towards where her shoulder and neck met.

“I love… your ass. It’s out of this world.” She said sleepily, reaching around to grab her favorite asset of yours.

“Well, it has been,” You laughed, pulling away reluctantly so you could look her in the eyes.

“Shut up you goof,” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and whacking you lightly. You fell over dramatically, pulling her so she was on top of you.

“Hm, I’m your goof,”

“Yeah. You are. And babe?” She smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Hmm?” You hummed against her lips. She leaned back to look you in the eyes, one forearm across your chest and her other hand beside your head supporting her.

“No more space travel for a while?”

“Pinky promise,” You said, wiggling your hand so your littlest finger connected with hers.

“Good. I can’t believe I was dating someone from TEXAS for a while.” Kelley pretended to shudder. “Jus think, one of your coworkers might have been a Houston dash supporter!”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #literalhedgehog #kelley o'hara x reader #kelley o'hara imagine

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char-lotta · 4 years ago

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Forget me not (Part 1/3)

Pairing: Jake x MC

Words: 1,6k

Summary: Forgetting is hard but forgiving is harder.

Warnings: -

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Forget me not - part one

You looked on the screen without thought in your head. The download bar was moving so slowly, that you couldn’t even pin it to actually move. The quiet humming coming from the countless computers filled the dark room with only you in there. Although, you were used to be alone, since that was the way of living you had performed for years already. You were alone and empty. You wouldn’t describe yourself alive, just plainly existing.

Something interrupted your catatonic state of just being alive and it took you a while to realize what it was. You looked your phone which had dim light with simple text on the screen.

MC: Please, could we just talk? I miss you.

Those blue eyes of yours read the message again and again and something warm sparked inside of you. You quickly diminished it when you found yourself thinking of her, the subject what you had forbidden yourself for weeks now. You swiped the message away from your screen and turned the phone screen down on the table. She would eventually stop.

-_-_-_-_-

Few days later, you received another message. You unlocked your screen and looked those words written by someone, who you didn’t deserve, but still wanted to be with you. God knows why.

MC: Jake, I really need to talk to you.

Something ached in your heart when you closed the message again and you sighed heavily. Why couldn’t she just let go? You had explained to her that this was for her own protection, and the image of her hurt face was burned in your mind. You could almost hear the sobs if you closed your eyes now. She didn’t know that you saw her though, because you were too coward to tell her that straight and instead took care of that by sending a text to her, but you had watched her from afar. How lame of you, but what else could you expect from twisted image of a man as you were.

You couldn’t resist yourself and you opened a CCTV in one of your screens. It showed her at work, in her tiny cubicle, as you knew her working schedule. You promised yourself that just this one time, you would allow yourself to look at her: her long brown curls, the worried face of hers and your favorite part; her neck. Oh, how you missed to be close to her, bury your face in her neck and smell that enchanting scent of lilies in her skin and shampoo on her hair. You couldn’t see it on the blurry CCTV, but she had a small mole just below her ear, where you had drawn circles in your finger when she slept. She was beautiful, as always; those soft lips of hers and you could remember them to whisper you all kinds of sweet words at the morning dusk, when she thought you were asleep. I love you; she had said and all you wanted to do, was embrace her and never let go of her.

But you did.

She was biting her lip again, what she always did when she was nervous. And it was because of you, and you knew it. She looked so fucking sad when she held her phone in her lap, looking at the screen, hoping that you would answer to her. But you couldn’t, and it was completely your own fault. You closed the CCTV and let your mind drift again to that emptiness, what had been your loyal companion always.

-_-_-_-_-_-

You received the next message in the same night, but you weren’t asleep since you never slept. You had only these nightmares what would follow you from dream to dream and sometimes you saw them during the days too.

MC: Don’t you think that I can decide myself what is good for me?

MC: You promised me that you would always be there for me, but there you are; not answering any of my text or calls.

You clenched your fists and saw that she was writing again. No, she was not capable of deciding where she should put herself in danger or not. She let her emotions cloud her judgment, and you had warned her since the beginning of the mission to find Hannah, that there should not be emotions involved because they would just make things harder. She couldn’t see it, but you could. Your pursuers had been on your tails and they were getting closer and closer.

When they had sent you that image, something broke inside of you and you just knew, that this happiness of yours was short-term. You had promised to her that you would always be there, but she forgot the most important promise that you had made to her; you would always protect her. And that was the promise which you were keeping, and you could never forgive yourself if something happened to her. She was dragged in to this involuntary, she hadn’t asked for it. Why should you put your feelings towards her to be more important that her life was?

The message coming from that image that your pursuers had sent you couldn’t be any clearer; it showed her coming out of her apartment door. They knew who she was and where she lived and what she meant to you. In that moment you had realized that she already was in mortal danger and you had put her in this position just simply loving her. It had to be stopped and no one else couldn’t do that for you, so it had to be you. You were going to break her.

MC: I fucking hate you

MC: I loathe you

MC: How can you do this to me?

The texts were coming quickly now, and you could see that she was frustrated and angry. Her words I fucking hate you and I loathe you felt like daggers in your abdomen, but at the same time, you were satisfied. The anger of hers would help her cope losing you and moving on. She deserved someone who could be there for her without putting her at risk, although even the thought of her being with someone else killed you slowly. But this had to be done.

MC: I loved you and I would have given my life for you

MC: And you threw me away like I am garbage

MC: I don’t want to hear from you ever again

Good, you thought, you never will. And with that thought you muted your phone and returned to your computer.

-_-_-_-_--

It had been two months now from the last message of hers and four since you had last met. You could see the sun getting up between the curtains and you switched your screen to her workplace’s system, just for the check up on her, as you did every morning. You searched her name in the list of employees logged on, but you couldn’t find her. You frowned and checked again, but she wasn’t there. With a few buttons you had opened the CCTV and looked at her cubicle, but it was empty.

Where was she?

The cubicle looked plain, and you realized that her plants and pictures were missing too. Personally, you didn’t understand of the concept of having all kind of distracting things on your desk, but considering that she always bought a new plant for substitute of what she had involuntary killed, she seemed to love them. Confused, you rewind the security tape to last day and stopped when she was shown on the tape and looked closely. She had a box with her, and she was picking up all her personal things from her desk and when she was done, she left. You followed her via the cameras of the elevator.

Maybe she got promotion and had gotten herself a new room?

But no, she went with her stuff to the elevator and took the trip down and left the building.

“What the fuck” you muttered and switched to her apartment’s hallway camera. You zoomed in her apartments door and saw that there was apparently a small family moving in. There was no sight of her in the video and her apartment seemed empty. You felt your heartbeat rising and your palms turned sweaty. You tried to log on her phone and use the GPS to track her, but she had turned her phone off.

“FUCK!” you yelled and threw the coffee mug you had, into the wall. Where had she gone?

You logged on her social medias, but she had updated those months ago, so they weren’t helpful. You had promised to her that you wouldn’t read her messages, but she didn’t leave you a choice, you had to know where she was. You saw that she had discussed with her friends, but the topics were daily stuff and chit chat.

You opened up her emails, but they weren’t important, containing only work-related mails and some recommendations from HBO, which suggested that she needed to re-watch Game of Thrones sixtieth time this year. She knew that you would investigate those while looking for you and she was doing her best on covering her tracks.

Few flying coffee cups later and you were shouting from frustration. You breathed heavily and stared the monitors. You had taught her well, but that was the point, you had taught her. You had told her that when she was booking any tickets or making any travel plans, she wasn’t supposed to use her own email as a verification, but spam email you had created to her, which servers were located some tiny island on the Caribbean Sea. You typed the address on your browser, and there it was, ticket confirmation mail.

Thank you for booking your trip to Duskwood from us!

Here are some tips for your journey –

You tried to read the message, but your brains didn’t oblige with you and you just kept looking those letters what didn’t make any sense. No fucking way…

Why was she going to Duskwood?

#duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake #duskwood #everbyte duskwood #jake x mc #jake x player #jake x reader #duskwood fanfiction

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