#who am i even typing this update for is also a question to ask

[izzy-b-hands]

8/20's au-gust fill...is in progress but might also just get deleted and skipped lmao (it's still so wordy and not finished and I have zero confidence in this fucker. I think I would like it but then again I like verbose little weird novellas/short stories that are a packed slice of time and then I never hear from any of the characters in that universe/au ever again but think about them forever after. But that's definitely not to everyone's taste or even anyone's taste in general, broadly so. Things to consider)

today's (8/21) fill isn't happening. Tomorrow's fill, possibly.

thank fuck 8/23's fill has been done for ages now

and I'm picking away at fills for 8/24 and 8/25 for now (bc I can't sleep until I get more done, even if it's just a few lines that I wind up deleting)

[displ3azant]

CURRENTLY ASK-ABLE: - Unpleasant - Infected (Plez oversees the questions, though.)

(Before cut is In-Character.)

Hiii! Helloooo!

Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.

So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.

Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.

Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.

BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇

(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)

To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.

And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.

Blog-Context

So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...

I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!

MAIN TAGS:

#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks

#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar

#ooc - Out-of-character post

OTHER TAGS (to be updated):

(nothing yet, hehe)

Blog-Owner

So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!

I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.

Ask/RP-Boundaries

Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.

ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.

Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.

Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.

Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,

PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!

That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe

Lots of love, - Hex

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

How to Plant Snapdragons (pt. 9)

Task Force 141 + König + Keegan x Female Criminal!Reader (except Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You go to Las Almas with Soap and Ghost and meet Colonel Alejandro and Sergeant Rodolfo

You are currently reading Chapter 9! Here is Chapter 8 and the Masterlist!

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Violence NOTE: WAZZUP BITCHES, IM BACK I am very sorry for not updating for 4-5(?) months. I didn't mean to go on a hiatus without any announcements. Things had been quite busy for me lately and I focused on some things (FUCK COLLEGE BUT I PASSED ALL MY CLASSES ANYWAY), and also the reason why I suddenly "went dark" is because of the fucking MW3 Campaign. Yeah, shit destroyed me. WORD COUNT: 2.7k

You had been to Mexico once. You went to good places it held, but you also walked on the mud it hid in the dark. After all, there could never be a perfect country. Even if someone said that their glorious purpose was for the better good of their nation—most of the time, they were merely heroes in their own stories and villains in the others’. Well, Mexico had good food. You could give them that, at least. But this place, Las Almas, would it have good stuff as well?

You shook off your vest and Ghost’s jacket as the pilot alerted you of the time of the touchdown and slipped into your jacket, fitted to your frame. As much as you wanted to keep wearing the lieutenant’s clothes, you couldn’t risk getting harmed because of loose clothing and failing this stupid mission.

You turned to Ghost as you folded his jacket neatly. “Can I keep this?” you asked and smiled.

He stared at you for a good second, pools of honey you couldn’t read before he looked away. “Suit yourself.”

Your grin widened, and you stashed the jacket into your bag. You hummed as you put on your vest, tightening it to your liking. You patted your pockets, checking each of them, until you felt Ghost’s mask in one, fingers lingering on the soft fabric, and sighed. You put your hands down on your lap and leaned against the cold steel, waiting for the upcoming descent, which didn’t take long.

The plane opened up, and a busy facility greeted your sight. Vehicles drove in and out of the area, and soldiers went back and forth from one place to another. But even when they were bustling, you could feel their gazes land on you—suspicious and judging, whispering among themselves, voices drowned out by the loud exhausts of the transports.

It was something you wished you could get used to. At the same time, you didn’t want to, when eyes held more than they seemed.

You followed Soap and Ghost down the plane, walking towards a couple of men who stepped forward. One of them had his hands clasped behind him, while the other simply stood by his side. Both were, well, good-looking and buffed (which was normal for military men), but eh, not really your type.

They would make pretty models though.

Also, good human shields, if ever.

Johnny, being the everlasting sunshine he was, greeted them first, extending a hand to the man named Alejandro, and engaged in a conversation with him as though they had been long good friends. Then, the sergeants forced the poor lieutenant to join in, who sounded ready to strangle the scot.

Then, your eyes found the gaze of the man next to the Mexican captain on the monitor on your ankle. A frown spread on his face and worsened the moment he saw the smirk that crept up your lips, his eyes darting between you and the half of the 141.

The look of a man confused never failed to be an entertainment. And what was more the obvious expression that said, what the fuck is a criminal doing here? Or something in Spanish.

“And who is she?” Alejandro questioned, finally turning his eyes on you—or rather, down to your ankle, as if the monitor would be the one to answer him.

“She’s sent by General Shepherd,” Ghost immediately replied, batting an eye at you. “She may be a criminal, but she proved excellent in various ways that could be useful to us.”

Alejandro, albeit hesitantly, nodded and extended a hand to you. “Nice to meet you, miss.”

You took his hand, giving it a quick shake. “I’m at your service, sir. And worry not about me going against orders, I pretty much like my head attached to my neck.”

He put a forced smile on his face, one you’d seen way too many times on people. “We’ll see about that.” He motioned at the man beside him. “This is Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra, my second-in-command.”

The said man, Rodolfo, extended his hand first to Soap, who the fellow Sergeant enthusiastically shook. Then, he batted an eye at Ghost, seemingly hesitant to approach him, but still decided to. Ghost, however, merely stared at his hand, and Rodolfo backed away, clearing his throat.

Soap stepped forward. “Ah, the Lt’s not much of a talker.”

Rodolfo nodded. “I understand.” He turned your way and reached out his hand, which you lightly shook, quickly withdrawing right after. He moved back to Alejandro’s side, who nodded his head towards a direction.

“Follow me, we’ll talk along the way.” Alejandro turned and began to walk, passing by and nodding at soldiers who saluted at him. By the end of the way—or seemingly at both an entrance and exit, several jeeps were parked, and a few soldiers stood by the vehicles. With a wave of hand from Alejandro, the men slipped inside the vehicles, and Rodolfo was the first to get in the first jeep on the line.

“I’d like to sit beside the window—” you attempted to request, but Ghost was quick to shut you off.

“No,” he said as Soap rounded the car, stepping in by the other side.

“But—”

“No.”

“C’mon, lassie, don’t you want to sit between us?” Soap questioned, a smile played on his lips.

You slipped inside with a grumble, inching close to the sergeant, before elbowing him. He grunted, but you knew it wouldn’t do much damage to him with all his muscles. At the same time, doors shut as both Alejandro and Simon got inside.

“Tengo miedo de los fantasmas,” Rodolfo mumbled, slightly turning his head to face his colonel.

(I’m afraid of ghosts.)

Your eyes whipped forward, brows slightly raising at his words, which you perfectly understood. You glanced at Ghost, but he merely stared ahead. At the back of your mind, you wanted to snitch on the new guy just so some drama could happen between them, but at the same time, drama could lead to suspicion between these men.

This was why knowing some languages if you travel abroad was great. But it should be fine to keep quiet for now. What the sergeant said wasn’t suspicious, but if they did anything that could bring harm to Ghost and Soap, then . . . 

On the other hand, Alejandro chuckled at the comment of his sergeant and looked back at the three of you. “You know Spanish?”

The Lieutenant remained silent, and you did the same, turning your head to the side to look out of the window, whilst Soap shook his head, and answered, “No.”

Alejandro drew a smirk on his face and turned his attention back ahead. “Oh, you will.”

Rodolfo started the car and drove out of the base.

“See,” you pointed at the window, begrudgingly looking at Simon, who stared indifferently at you. “This is why I want to be next to the window.”

The car passed by two-story buildings, seemingly houses or apartments, painted in pastel colors. People were walking and talking on the street, some vendors and their stands offering their goods, and some other vehicles were parked on the way. It wasn’t much, not even beautiful, but still you’d like to see everything you could see.

“Have you taken a liking to Las Almas?” Alejandro questioned, glancing back at you.

You put your hand down and turned your head on his way. “To be frank, it’s not a liking, sir, rather, it’s curiosity. I’m not from here or anything similar to this place, so I’d like to see how things work here.”

His head inclined a bit to the side, appearing to be thinking of his words. “You’ll be . . . disappointed.”

You smiled. “I’ll be the one to judge that.” Just as you finished your sentence, a truck with men riding on the back, guns in hand passed by. You couldn’t help but whistle at their ridiculous sight, and put your hand on top of Soap’s before he could grab his gun.

He frowned at you. “What are ya—”

“Calm down, sir,” you cut him off, pulling your hand away. “Seeing as no one on the street is reacting about it, pretty sure that’s normal here.”

“You’re right,” Alejandro spoke in a serious voice, once again looking back at you. “Guns are in the jurisdiction of the police.”

“Looks like Las Almas has a huge problem,” you commented and crossed your arms. “Much more than what I’ve heard.”

Alejandro shifted his eyes to you. “You seem to know something about Las Almas.”

With his words, Soap and Ghost also settled their eyes on you, as if they were ready to do everything to get answers out of your mouth. “I’ve been to Mexico, and during my stay, I heard of things about Las Almas. Not exactly the good ones as you probably expected, but I didn’t know things around here would be this bad.”

“When did you come to Mexico?”

“Over a couple of years ago, sir.”

“I see.” He turned back ahead. “Well, things weren’t that bad back then.”

“I suppose those who tried to uphold the laws and resist corruption met their end as the time passed?”

“You’re right.”

You hummed. “Well, without powerful backing to protect them, I doubt they’ll last much in a society like this.”

“And ya also seemed to know things about politics and stuff,” Soap claimed, slightly shifting on his seat.

You met his blue eyes with a grin. “I had met quite a few politicians in my life. Assassinated an Austrian before, and the one who hired me snitched on me. That’s why I ended up on Shepherd’s shackles.”

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How much of that is true?”

You laughed loudly, although you already knew what would be his reaction. “Take a guess,” you told him challengingly.

“The last sentence,” Ghost joined in, his voice monotone.

You snorted. “Except that.” Then, you gasped, throwing yourself to the window at Soap’s side, making him curse out something you couldn’t fucking understand in whatever Scottish was that. “Look, look, Lt!” You motioned your hand on Ghost to look at the ridiculous sight of someone in a skull balaclava giving balloons to kids.

“What the hell?” Soap’s bright eyes also followed the scene.

You whipped around and smiled at Ghost, who simply stared at you. “If you ever want to quit the military, you can retire with me and live together.”

“How about living in Las Almas since Ghost might fit well in here?” Rodolfo suggested in a soft voice. Alejandro hit him on the side, whispering something, and from the corner of your eyes, you saw Ghost slowly turning to look at him through the rear mirror.

You tilted your head. “But Las Almas has a serious problem when it comes to crimes, so I don’t think it is very much suitable to live in unless you want to be a crime lord or still in the military. And I’m the type of person who likes traveling around. If I were to settle for sometime somewhere else, it would be where I would have already spent some time on, like London, Berlin, or California and—”

“It’s just a joke, please. Don’t take it too seriously,” Rodolfo mumbled, sounding like he wanted to bury himself on the ground at the moment and never appear again.

On the way to the destination, Alejandro had talked more about the way of Las Almas, and finally, what you and the 141 came here for, El Sin Nombre, the leader of the Mexican Cartel who was protecting Hassan. Quite a reputation that person had as Alejandro said they had eyes and ears everywhere.

Having eyes and ears everywhere was also something the one who raised you did. Even if your father was in prison at the moment, you knew he was still pulling strings. A mastermind out of everyone’s league, until he decided to invest in you. Guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, now that you were technically imprisoned as well.

You pulled out your balaclava and huffed, putting it on swiftly. You jumped out of the jeep right after Simon and you heard Alejandro spit out his commands in a low, serious voice. You rounded up with the soldiers before a gate and under the Colonel’s command, the group barged in. You frowned as you had seen no man in sight, seemingly the civilians had run away—or were mostly likely driven out by the Cartel.

Alejandro waved his hand to follow him up another gate, which this time, Ghost opened, and gunshots echoed in the air.

“Showtime,” you said under your breath, aiming your assault rifle and blasting a hole through a man’s head, vibrant red painting the dull walls around. You rounded a corner, cautiously looking out for an enemy. You spotted a couple of them, but before you could take them down, they had already fallen on the ground. Your head whipped at Soap and Ghost’s direction. “Showoffs,” you grumbled.

“Said the one who wanted to take two men down at the same time,” Soap remarked, giving you a look, and you heard Ghost huff.

You clicked your tongue and swiftly entered a house, but quickly moved back out as you saw not a soul in sight. Your frown worsened at the unusual lack of men to hold the group back. In these cases, either it would be a trap or they had escaped already.

You glanced over your shoulders. 141, some of Alejandro’s men and the Colonel himself were on sight. The walls obscured your view of the place, there were so many corners where men could be hiding themselves or something else, and such things as Cartels wouldn’t hesitate to destroy a run-down hide-out like this for their good.

Soap shot a man from the roof and Alejandro positioned himself in front of a door, motioning at us. “Secure the house, and we go for Hassan.”

Several voices echoed from inside the place, cursing and hushing one another.

“Take the door,” Alejandro commanded. Soap stepped forward, but you grabbed him, making him look at you.

Before he could utter a word, you kicked the door open, slid on the floor towards a corner, and struck a man awaiting in the hallway. You got up immediately, raised a hand so they wouldn’t follow you, and picked up a baby’s bottle on the ground, throwing it to a room through a slightly opened door. Shots were fired blindly right after and you countered it with a couple of bullets, and it stopped. You pushed the blasted door open and found a man lying on the floor, and the baby’s bottle rolling towards your foot.

“Room clear,” you announced, staring down at the bottle for a second, before moving to the next room. They followed you in and you braced yourself for another onslaught, but this time, Soap was the one who barged in, quickly shooting down the men inside without batting an eye.

“Room clear,” he said and put his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

You looked up at him and raised a brow that he wouldn’t see.

Ghost sauntered in the room. “No sign of Hassan.”

Alejandro sighed. “They already moved him.”

You turned your attention to him. “They move fast, hm?”

He looked at you, letting Ghost and Soap rummage the desk across the room instead. “They do. Much more than I expected.”

“So they already know that we’re coming here,” you remarked.

“Highly possible. The Cartel has eyes everywhere.”

You narrowed your eyes and echoed, “Everywhere?”

He nodded to affirm it. “Everywhere.”

“You mean even among your men?”

He paused, staring at you for a good second. “No, I trust my men.”

“A weed is a weed, sir, no matter how good it looks in your garden,” you said in a monotonous voice, picking up a pencil from the ground. “Sooner or later, they’ll bring harm to your plants. And even the plants you put in your garden can bring harm to you if you don’t know what they are.”

Ghost and Soap shot an eye on you, before exchanging looks with each other.

He eyed you cautiously and his serious voice lowered. “What are you implying?”

You remained silent and so did he, until Rodolfo’s voice echoed in your headsets. “The army is rolling in!”

You can also read the series on AO3!

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride @sarahedwards16, @sarahedwards16, @kenma-izhu, @kkaaaagt, @cassiecasluciluce, @unicorngirly1, @thriving-n-jiving, @squidalapobre, @tallicaside

(PLEASE DON'T KILL ME FOR NOT UPDATING (and I hope you guys still like to bother to read this fic?)

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 5 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

This took forever and I’m so sorry😭 Since I last updated, I took a trip to see my girlfriend and she came to see me too (if it seems like I’m in my lover girl era it’s because I am). I went on a trip to Disney (I am an extensive planner, I even made spreadsheets. I put my heart and soul into it) (I had to prep my body and mind as well, for spending that much time with my mother, also the Florida heat and tons of walking). I’ve done a bunch of babysitting and have been on the hunt for a full-time job! I missed writing and hope to get to do it much more often now!!!

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission. 

Chapter 5

Ellie gets a little jealous when another girl shows interest in you. You share many sweet moments as she tries to spend every second with you that she can.

Word count: 4k

CW: *Ellie and reader are both 18* profanities, sexual innuendo/references, semi-intimate situations, mentions of drinking/smoking weed

You and Ellie spend the rest of the time before her practice kissing and planning dates. Neither of you can wait to share your dorky interests with the other. 

Picking up your phone, while getting ready to leave, you see a text from Elise. It’s not about homework. You audibly groan and Ellie raises an eyebrow.

“I got a text from Elise,” you tell her and then read it out loud. “Are you going to Kyle’s Saturday night? I’m hoping to see you there.”

Ellie’s face scrunches up in disgust, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I told her to only text me for school stuff. I’m going to remind her,” You tell Ellie, then type out a text while reading it out loud. 

“I'm happy to answer your questions about school work, but I’m not looking to be involved with you in the way I think that you want us to be. I’m your tutor now and that wouldn’t be appropriate.” Ellie laughs at that, you ignore the irony. “Also, I’m seeing a girl that I like a lot, you and I aren’t going to be anything more than friendly.” 

“You tell her.” Ellie nods in approval, hyping you up. “That girl better watch herself. She might be disrespecting what you want on purpose, but she doesn’t know that she is disrespecting me too.”

Elise asks who you are seeing so you tell her that the girl goes to North, not someone she would know. Ellie laughs again, though somewhat maniacally this time. 

Ellie hugs you while saying goodbye, holding your close, not letting you leave until she is satisfied. She kisses you softly, longingly, and the taste of her lips lingers on yours for a while after you have parted ways. 

Ellie calls you that night, to check that no one was bothering you. You tell her that Elise had continued asking more questions but you stopped answering.

Ellie was not happy to hear that. 

The next morning you get a text from Ellie.

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: You free during home room today?

You: Yes!

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Meet me in the science wing bathroom at 8

You like the message and finish getting ready. You get a hall pass and leave to meet Ellie. The science wing is empty during homeroom, so it’s a good spot to be alone.

When you walk in Ellie is leaning back with her hands on the sink. 

“We’ve unlocked a new location,” she points out enthusiastically. 

“We have,” you giggle at how cute she is.

“Less than ideal, but I like getting to see you in person.”

“You spend plenty of time seeing me in person,” you tease her. She walks over to you and flips your hood over your head.

“Actually spending time with you,” she specifies grabbing your hands to pull your arms around her.

You lean your head onto Ellie’s shoulder. “It is really nice getting to hang out with you. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“A few minutes?!” She practically yells in your ear. 

“It may be normal for you to disappear for a half hour but if I’m gone more than 5 minutes people are going to think I’ve got explosive diarrhea or something.”

Her face is contorted in confusion until it hits her, eliciting a discouraged sigh.“You study during homeroom don’t you?”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s what it’s there for.”

Ellie waves a hand in the air dismissively. “It’s like those yellow speed signs, a suggestion.”

Your jaw drops and you shake your head in mock disapproval. “Remind me not to get in a car with you.”

“I am a GREAT driver. I’ll pick you up for our first date and show you.” Ellie says matter-of-factly. Eyebrows furrowed, but a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. 

Your heart flutters at the mention of a first date, but it is against your nature to halt the banter. “I’ll just have to bring a helmet.”

“I’m coordinated enough to play lacrosse. You on the other hand, I bet you hit a lot of curbs.”

“I plead the fifth!” You stick your tongue out at her. 

“I know that one!” Ellie informs you with enthusiasm, eager to impress you.

“I feel like you are the kind of person to know the rules so that you can break them most effectively,” you tease her and you can tell by the look in her eyes that you are right on the money. 

Ellie throws her hands up in the air. “I want my lawyer!”

You playfully shove her and she grabs your arms to rope you into a hug.

On Friday during your tutoring session with Elise you are working in a textbook. You slide the book towards her to point to the asymptote in the graph and she puts her hand on top of yours. You quickly pull away and you hear a textbook fall off a shelf nearby, but don't think anything of it. 

When Elise asks to borrow your pencil sharpener she tries to slide her hand over yours once again. Before you can react someone coughs loudly from the other side of a book shelf. Elise gets startled and quickly lets go.  

Reading over an answer to a problem Elise had done you hear a very familiar voice hoarsely whisper “what the fuck!”

You look around for Ellie but the first thing you notice is Elise’s arm around the back of your chair. 

“Do that again and you won’t have a tutor anymore,” you tell her sternly and she folds her arms across her chest in a huff. 

Looking around you see a pair of eyes peeking through a hole on the bookshelf, they are green and sparkling in a way that tells you they are accompanied by a smile. Further down the shelf you see another face poking through, Paz, accompanying Ellie on her little mission. 

You pull out your phone and send Ellie a text. 

You: Are you spying on me???

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I have no idea what you are talking about

You: None at all?

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: You’re right. Now that I’m thinking about it Paz mentioned something about undercover work

You look back towards Ellie and Paz and they quickly duck out of sight. You have to stifle your laugh and refocus on your job.

Friday at the end of the school day you head to the locker room to retrieve your gym clothes, they need to be washed. You are giddy at the prospect of catching a glimpse of Ellie. Even if you don’t get to talk to her, let alone be near her. 

When you enter the locker room you are greeted by the sound of a ruckus. You hear a crash a few rows back, like someone fell into a locker. 

You creep down the rows of lockers to investigate. That requires navigation through a crowd of softball and lacrosse players. You see Ellie hovering in an offensive stance over Elise, who is crouching slightly, as if recovering from a hit. 

“What the hell, Williams?” Elise asks in disgust, shoving Ellie away from her. 

Ellie pushes her back, much harder. “Just think you need to watch yourself, Knolls.”

Elise doesn’t retaliate this time, Ellie plays lacrosse she knows how to rough someone up. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Ellie pushes Elise up against the lockers and pins her there. You may or may not be jealous. “Don’t ever get in my way again.” The gathered crowd collectively gasps but no one tries to intervene. After staring Elise down long enough to make her point, Ellie lets go of her and turns away. Elise watches confused, pissed off, and embarrassed. You know why Ellie is angry with her, though you are baffled that she would display those emotions so publicly. 

What if Elise told someone about this and Ellie ended up in the principal’s office? What would she tell her? Sorry, she was flirting with the girl I like. She was MY tutor first! 

This isn’t a side of Ellie you are familiar with. This aggression is uncalled for, but it’s attractive. Seeing her physically fight for you? It has you in a lust filled haze. 

The crowd disperses and Ellie walks past you. Her cheeks flush when she spots you, realizing you saw what just happened. But her expression turns cocky when she sees the hunger in your eyes. She bites her lip and winks at you. Her hand reaches so that her fingertips brush over your waist. No one else could have seen because of the way you two were positioned. Normally you would have panicked, but the public display of affection was concealed by the angle of her body. Not to mention the way you caught up in the passion you share. 

Even after Ellie passes by, you stand there dumbfounded. Nonetheless, you force yourself to shake it off in order to continue on with your day. But your phone buzzes…

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: You liked that didn’t you?

Everyone else should be gone in about 10

Want to wait around?

You: That was a bad idea, confronting her like that

But yes I liked it

And yes I’ll be waiting 

You dawdle at your locker while the chatting dies down to silence and footsteps are no longer falling.

Ellie approaches you and leans against a locker with her arms crossed. 

“You know where my gym locker is?” You question.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know where to watch you get changed?”

You playfully hit Ellie in the arm. “Shut up!” 

“My locker is right on the other side.” She admits. “Doesn’t matter how many voices are around, I can always hear yours.”

Focusing down on your shoes you blink rapidly and take a deep breath, unsure of how to handle this attention. Yes, you’ve received this type of attention before. But Ellie being the girl that notices you is still incomprehensible. Not only that, you have now seen her feelings towards you exist outside of when you two are alone. Sweet moments in secret are one thing, but her defending your honor? Of course no one knows that’s what it is, but it doesn't stop your head from spinning. 

Ellie tilts your face up with her pointer finger and your wide eyes stare into hers, they are focused on you. 

“What?” She asks, her worry evident in her expression as she searches yours for a clue of how you are feeling. 

“It’s nothing,” you lie and Ellie raises an eyebrow. She knows you too well now to get away with that. 

“Well…” your voice is soft and timid. “It’s that… you just … seem to care a lot about me. And it’s sweet.

“I do care a lot about you. I guess I need to make that more clear. I have a secret to tell you.” You cock your head to the side in confusion, Ellie leaning close to whisper “I like like you.” In your ear. You start giggling. 

Ellie wraps her arms around your waist and tucks her face into the crook of your neck. You rest your cheek on her soft auburn hair and hold her tight. You feel Ellie take a deep breath, breathing in your scent, and feeling her exhale on your neck sends shivers down your spine. 

“I have to go to practice but I don’t want to,” she mumbles. 

You sigh. “I don’t want you to go either. But super stars don’t skip practice.”

“Super star?” She asks, picking her head up to look at you. Her surprise is so genuine it melts your heart. 

“I watched your old games, Ellie. You really are talented.”

Ellie smirks, her sense of wonder broken by her dirty mind. “Talented,” she repeats. 

You roll your eyes playfully and ignore the comment. “You can’t slow down now. You’ve got another championship to win.”

She nods in agreement, with a sense of duty. “Very true. I’m like a Wendy’s 4 for 4. Plus I am dating the smartest girl and it would be embarrassing if she wasn’t dating the best lacrosse player.”

“I’ll never eat Wendy’s the same way ever again.”

Ellie’s green eyes sparkle devilishly. “Yeah. You’ll be eating me too.”

“I’m looking forward to it. But my super star really does need to get to practice.”

“Will you stay with me until I’m ready to leave?” Ellie asks shyly, a bright flush coloring her freckled face. 

“Of course I can.”

Ellie grabs your hand and leads you over to her locker. She opens it up and pulls out her practice clothes. 

You don’t even pretend that you aren’t watching. Ellie watched you watch her. She pulls her shirt over her head, only momentarily breaking eye contact when the fabric passes over her face. 

Your breath hitches seeing her like this. Her sports bra hugging her exquisitely and her abdomen pleasantly toned. The urge to trace you fingertips over her impressive body burns in the pit of your stomach. 

“Like what you see?” Ellie chuckles, clearly pleased to see you gawking at her. 

“I guess you could say that,” you sigh, pretending like you aren’t ogling at her body. 

“Don’t lie to me, tutor girl.”

You cross your arms and pout. “Fine. I’m impressed. Happy now?”

“Very.” Ellie hooks her arm around your waist and drags you into her, hastily, and you have to grab her shoulders to steady yourself. Ellie presses her forehead to yours and you take a deep breath after she has taken it away. 

“Pretty girl.” Ellie mumbles and you just gaze at her starry eyed. Ellie kisses you gently and you let your hand slide down her body, over her perky breasts and tight abs. You grab her hips firmly when you get there and then distance yourself, still holding on to her. 

“Practice,” you remind her and she groans. Ellie throws on her practice pinnie and then slides down her pants leaving her in her boxers. Thankfully she pulls a pair of shorts over them right away.

Ellie puts her clothes away and starts taking her practice things out. 

“Can you hold this for me?” She asks, extending her lacrosse stick towards you. You nod as you take it. Ellie slings her lacrosse backpack over her shoulder and stops to take you in for a moment. 

“I didn’t actually need you to hold it,” Ellie admits. “I just knew you would look cute.”

You shake your head at her and bite back a smile. 

“I’ll text you after practice,” she tells you before giving you a quick peck on the lips and heading out. 

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment. 

Is this real?

Does Ellie Williams really like you?

This is not something you ever imagined happening, but here you are, kissing her before she goes to practice. 

You literally pinch yourself so that when you get a text from Ellie you know it’s real. 

Ellie sends you a message after she has finished with her practice. You ask each other about your time apart and chat. 

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Can you send me your schedule?

You: Plan on stalking me?

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Yes 

I’ve got some of it figured out but I want to try and run into you whenever I can

You send her a picture of your schedule.

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I didn’t know half these classes existed 

This doesn’t look fun 

Like at all

You: Don’t worry about me😂

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Don’t tell me what to do😡

I’m going to make sure you don’t get too stressed💚

You: I have a few ideas about how you could do that 

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: 👀👀👀👀

I will mix wholesome and not so wholesome 

You: Sounds like a plan 

Ellie ends up going on a rant about practice, Abby Anderson did something to piss her off. However, Ellie’s team won their scrimmage so it’s okay.

You text Ellie the rest of the night and end up staying up later than usual until you finally say goodnight. Even though you don’t want to. 

On Saturday Ellie has an away game and then goes to a party with a bunch of her teammates.  

You spend the afternoon studying, then go to a party yourself. Definitely not the same one. 

Elise eyes you from across the room and you ignore her. When your friends ask why you are giving her the cold shoulder you tell them it’s because you are her tutor now. Your friends are relieved, they know how that type of thing has gone in the past. You are happy they don’t know it already happened again.

You socialize outside of your friend group too, politely ignoring any flirting. You have a lot of fun, even if you are waiting for your phone to buzz. 

You hear from Ellie more than you expect to. She keeps you updated on the drama around her and you can tell she had been smoking before she even mentioned it. She is more silly than usual, and it’s incredibly charming, especially since you’ve had a bit to drink. 

Nicole sees you smiling at your phone. “I know that look!”

She gets excited but rolls her eyes when you try to brush it off. She looks you up and down with a bit of an attitude, it’s unlike you to keep this kind of thing from her. 

“Fine. I’m talking to a girl,” you admit and Nicole’s eyes light up.

“Are you going to tell me who it is?” She pesters you, a wildly excited look in her eyes.

You make up a little lie. Nicole isn’t ready for the truth yet. “She goes to North. You wouldn’t know her.” Nicole knows who Ellie is but she doesn’t really know her. Not like you do.

She squints her eyes at you. “Is that all I get?”

“For now.” You take a long sip of your drink, signaling you are moving on from this topic. 

Nicole shakes her head in disapproval. “I guess that’s better than nothing. Don’t think I’ll be forgetting about this.”

You and your friends get picked up around 2 am. On your way back to Nicole’s you get a text from Ellie, asking you to come over. You tell her that you can’t drive anywhere because you’ve been drinking. She says she is high but can walk to you, so you explain that you are sleeping over at a friend’s. Ellie says she will be coordinating with you next weekend because she always misses you extra when she’s intoxicated. 

Sunday is busy. School work, chores, and family dinner.

Ellie gets some homework done too, alongside a bunch of yard work with Joel. 

You get a lovely text from Ellie Monday morning.

You: Good morning:)

What are you doing up so early?

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Getting you coffee 

You: I always make it at home you don’t have to do that 

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I want to. 

And I know your order anyways 

You: How????

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I took a picture of it that day you came in late with Dunkin 

In case I ever needed it 

You: I’m genuinely impressed

You’re 10 steps ahead 

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: 🫡

Meet you at your car when you get to school?

You: What if someone sees us?!

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I’m like Michael Jackson 

You: ???????

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: A smooth criminal 

You: That’s actually a good one😂

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I’m glad you said that, otherwise I’d have to beat it 

You: Okay ma’am that’s enough 

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Don’t act like this isn’t a thriller for you my PYT

You: You are too much 

In the best way possible 

Space Nerd 🚀🤓:

When you park at school you let Ellie know that you have arrived. 

Out of nowhere Ellie casually strolls by and leaves a cup of coffee on the hood of your car. 

As you are getting out and picking it up Abby pulls in next to you. She gives you a smile and a wave, so you politely wave and smile back. 

Your phone immediately starts ringing and you pick up. 

“NO FUCKING WAY SHE’S GOT THE SPOT NEXT TO YOU!” Ellie yells into the phone and you are grateful the volume wasn’t all the way up. Would’ve burst your eardrums.

“Last year too,” you inform her. 

“My enemy is living my dream,” Ellie practically growls. 

“I would pay good money for you to be my parking neighbor,” you promise her. 

“Top dollar?” She questions, deadly serious.

“Absolutely!” You assure Ellie. You hear her sigh in relief. 

“Thank you. I gotta go but I’ll talk to you later?”

“I would love that!”

“Bye pretty girl,” you can hear Ellie’s smile in her voice.

“Bye El.”

You say hello to Nicole a few minutes later.

“Is that Dunkin’!?” She gasps.

“Uh… yeah?”

“You didn’t even ask me if I wanted any! You always do!” Nicole groans. 

“Sorry, I uh… it totally slipped my mind. I really needed it this morning,” you explain, trying to cover your tracks.

“You should set a location reminder on your phone. When you get to Dunkin’ it will remind you to ask if I want some,” Nicole says, not a hint of sarcasm.

You salute her. “Aye aye captain!”

Your phone buzzes a few times during 5th period, but you don’t check it until class is over. 

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Don’t go into 6th period right away (12:35 pm)

My class is right across from yours (12:35 pm)

I want to say hi (12:35 pm)

And maybe kiss you👀 (12:35 pm)

Hi (12:47 pm)

Hey (12:53 pm)

You don’t check your phone during class do you (12:55 pm)

When you see the messages you like them all and hurry to your next class. 

As you approach your 6th period class you look for Ellie. She is outside the door across the hall, mindlessly rummaging through her backpack, despite looking around for you and not at all paying attention to what she is doing. Ellie winks at you when she spots you. 

When the bell rings the hallway starts to clear, so you bend down to tie your shoe to stall. 

Once the hallway is almost empty Ellie gets up and starts to walk over to you. Once everyone is gone she says hi and grabs your hand, giving you a quick kiss. 

“I know you don’t want to be late. I’ll see you later.” Ellie holds your hand for another moment before finally letting go and heading across the hall. She gazes back longingly, a pouty frown on her face, not wanting to leave you. 

You bite your lip, just as sad to watch her go, and think to yourself “I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but I don’t think I care.”

Tags: @bready101, @st4r-b3rries, @tlou-bombshell, @stvrs13, @dinanellie, @everegretseverything, @mikellie, @lamolaine, @0pheli4, @soupycloud, @radioheadfan699, @callmelola111, @hysteriawillnotsuccumb, @normalthing111, @3isosoup, @lmaoo-spiderman, @cqliflower 

[asklilmissrarity]

The Future of Lil Miss Rarity

Hello everyone, this is Jay Tonique (formerly known as Lil Miss Jay), the writer, artist, everything other than the music in the Lil Miss Rarity animation for the blog "Lil Miss Rarity."

As some of you know, Lil Miss Rarity was an ongoing outlet for my physical, verbal and emotional abuse I was suffering prior to and leading up to Lil Miss Rarity's release, October 11th 2011.

The blog took off so heavily that my entire artistic career became a viable future for me, allowing me to profit from my art, build a huge loving fanbase, and even allowing me to become something of a celebrity in the Brony community (even very much hated by a large portion of the community).

It's needless for me to say that Lil Miss Rarity not only changed but saved my life. I was on the verge of taking my own life around the time the blog was started, due to the abuse I was going through, and if it weren't for the success of the blog that fateful October week, I would certainly not be here, typing this right now. I owe my life to you all, and the support you've given me for this blog.

However, it's time for the news I know very few people want to hear. In fact, I'm sure just reading this line right here has people's hearts sinking, but please, don't be anxious, please read the full post.

I would like to say: Please read the full post, I am going to be very clear about the future.

Moving forward, Lil Miss Rarity will no longer be updated, and the blog is officially entirely over, as of this post.

I am still looking for a musician to commission a new song for the remake of the Lil Miss Rarity animation on YouTube, which will be my final major update involving the blog, and then I will be putting the blog entirely to rest. The animation will serve as a fond emotional farewell to Lil Miss Rarity.

However, that's not the end of the twisted grimdark storytelling. I have decided to make a spiritual successor, a new IP, entirely my own and not using My Little Pony as a crutch.

I won't get too into it, but I left the Brony fandom long ago. It was both the greatest thing to ever happen in my life, and the absolute worst thing to ever happen in my life. I met great friends, but also met unbelievably horrible sick people, many of which I literally got FBI involvement to deal with and many of which are literally in prison now.

Due to this, and many many more reasons I'm leaving out, I cannot and will not continue to be a part of the fandom. This is just a few reasons, as well, that continuing to have Lil Miss Rarity exist as a My Little Pony blog just doesn't make any sense to me.

So what am I doing moving forward?

A brand new IP called "Melodi." It's about a magic school student who is part of a wealthy family who goes on a magical twisted adventure in a horrifying grimdark world.

It will have characters either very slightly or very heavily inspired by the characters of Lil Miss Rarity, with Melodi of course being inspired by Rarity.

It will also be an ongoing web comic, similar to LMR, and will encourage fan feedback just as much as LMR did, but will not be an Ask Blog like LMR.

I plan to release character concepts for the cast of Melodi soon.

Now, there's probably a lot of questions moving forward, so I'll try to answer them now, as well as in asks on this blog, though I'd prefer you send the asks about Melodi to my main blog at http://www.jayisbutts.com/ask

Here's some questions I think will be asked, and I'll answer them here:

"Will this blog be on Tumblr?" - Yes, and on Patreon. Each update will be on Patreon first. When an update comes out on Patreon, the previous update will go public at the same time on Tumblr.

"Don't you think the LMR fanbase you've garnered for 12 years are gonna be upset about this?" - I'm 100% certain they will be, yes. However, I hope that most people who hear this news are excited to see Melodi in the future. I'm very proud of what I've created with LMR, and happy about how many lives I've changed and how many people have told me how much they love LMR. People with the heart-brand tattoo, people with LMR tattoos, people who cosplay as LMR, LMR fanart still being made regularly to this date, real-life Opal dolls, fan-dubs of the comic, fan animations, Anime Music Videos, etc etc etc. I love each and every one of you and I hope that I can one day garner the same amount of love for Melodi as I received for LMR. Thank you all so much for your support.

"What if someone else wants to carry on the LMR blog or use the characters to make their own?" - Please, do. LMR is officially Public Domain as of this post, and I strongly encourage LMR fan-fiction, fan-blogs, etc. I would love if someone could do LMR better than I did. I will very happily use this blog going forward to showcase new LMR blogs and fan-content that I like, and I will very gladly be a guest artist from time to time on an update or two to those blogs. You all have my blessing to take LMR and do with her whatever you want.

"Are you still remaking the LMR animation?" - Yes, I'm still actively seeking a musician to make an official LMR theme that will play in the background of it. It will be a glorious farewell to LMR.

"Is the heart-brand still a thing in Melodi?" - Absolutely, yes. The one incredibly major staple being carried over to Melodi is the heart brand. That symbol has become synonymous with LMR.

"What about the eye scars?" - Probably not. There will be facial scarring of some kind, yes, but considering the new story will not involve killing a cat (not yet anyway), she probably won't have the eye scars.

"Black eye with white pupil?" - We'll see! (It is a sign of Malice's corruption to have a black left eye, so almost certainly yes, but we'll see!)

"Ponies? Humans? Furries?" - I haven't fully decided. In my head, Melodi is a human, but I could also see her being a cat. I'm not sure what I wanna do just yet. However, she will not be a pony. She's gonna be far more human shaped. With boobies.

"Is this one gonna have porn?" - Nope! Not directly as part of the blog, no. Sexual encounters are going to happen in a very fade-to-black way, or a cropped-off-screen sort of way, yes. And there will be sexy characters, like monster girls or demon girls, and I'm sure people will find Melodi herself sexy, too. However, the blog is not going to contain actual porn. No full nudity. It will have what some would refer to as "fetish content," as with LMR, but it's not porn.

"Final question, so... LMR is just... dead? As of now?" - In terms of receiving updates from me, all that will be made is the LMR animation. But no, I certainly hope LMR is not dead. I would love to see the blog live on through other artists I've inspired. You all have my blessing to keep her alive forever.

Thank you all so much for your support.

More news involving Melodi and her twisted adventures coming soon.

I love you all, and I want you all to know how much your support of Lil Miss Rarity has changed my life.

I know it's cringe to type this, but, "I'm literally crying right now."

Mommy will always be pretty.

~Jay Tonique (Formerly Lil Miss Jay)

[kangshxrtie]

ch. 22 ⤍ PICK ME

you started your stream with your usual energetic greeting, glancing at the chat as it started to flood in with messages. you leaned back in your chair, smiling, ready to dive into the updates.

"so earlier today, i filmed this video with leeseo and wonyoung," you began, trying not to laugh too hard at the memory. "first of all, never let wonyoung behind the wheel—she scares me. she couldn't keep her hands on the wheel because she freaked out every time the car moved even a little. now, leeseo? that kid is wild. for some reason, she's actually good at driving." you paused for effect. "like, way too good for her age."

user1 idk who even let wonyoung behind the wheel. she's literally scared of driving.

you nodded, laughing softly. "i was wondering the same damn thing," you replied, shaking your head.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ when do i get to drive you? 😏

you raised an eyebrow at the comment. "you driving? should i be scared?" you teased.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ of course not. i'm a great driver!

"i don't know... should i let zuha drive me around?" you asked your chat, knowing exactly how they'd react.

user2 hell no

user3 run yn

user4 ur def not making it out of that one

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i love being a mod. there's so much power here.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i'm banning everybody who said i can't drive!

you couldn't help but laugh at her response. "you can't just ban my whole chat, zuha!"

reinyourheart wait how is kazuha a mod b4 me? i've known u longer

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ 🤷🏻‍♀️ i'm just good like that.

🗡️_yujin_an damn imagine not being a mod

reinyourheart even yujin

reinyourheart she prob doesn't even use it

🗡️_yujin_an actually 🤓☝️ i use my mod powers all the time to run polls. i'm also an og y/n sub so i got mod

reinyourheart y/n plz mod me since apparently you're just giving mod to anybody these days

"i don't trust you enough to give you those privileges."

reinyourheart but u trust yujin???

"well, not really, but she's our leader," you joked.

reinyourheart banning u from my chat now

"that's fine, i never watch your streams anyways," you quipped, earning a playful gasp from your chat.

reinyourheart 😮 fake

"i'm joking. please don't actually ban me," you said, breaking into laughter. as your giggles faded, your eyes caught an interesting question in the chat.

user1 what type of person do u want to date?

the question made you pause for a moment. "i've actually been thinking about this a lot recently," you admitted.

you leaned forward, ready to dive into your answer. "so, first of all, i like someone with a cool and relaxed personality, but they also need to be bright enough to make me laugh—even with the corniest jokes." as you said this, your thoughts drifted toward someone in particular.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i feel like i can satisfy those requirements

you chuckled softly but kept going. "i also want to date a morning person, so they can help me fix my sleep schedule."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i hate sleeping in

"i really hope they can speak japanese too, 'cause i wanna visit japan so badly."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ me

you grinned, ignoring her comments for now. "another odd requirement—i want them to be good at ballet. it's a talent i just really admire."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ me 🙋🏻‍♀️

"oh, and if they look like bae suzy, that's a huge bonus," you added with a nostalgic smile. "she was my ideal type when i was younger."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ pick me! choose mee!

"and another weird one—they need to randomly start stretching or doing squats whenever they feel like it. bonus points if they have abs. that's just..." you sighed dramatically. "so hot."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i literally fit all the requirements

you finally broke, laughing as you read her string of comments. "i don't know if anybody can really line up to all these standards," you shrugged playfully.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ am i even here rn 😞

"y'all, if you know someone who meets all these standards, let me know," you told your chat, laughing at how many people were either playing along or just laughing at the interaction.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ chat suggest me #ynxzuha

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ imma start banning ppl that type any other name

"you can't threaten my chat like that, zuha," you chuckled, reading her messages aloud.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ chat she noticed me

you shook your head, smiling. "but since you're here, what do you think of all these suggestions?"

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ idk but i think that kazuha girl is pretty cool. i think u wld like her

you pursed your lips in thought. "hmm... i don't really know. i'll have to think about that one."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ trust

"i guess i'll trust you," you said, playing along. "but what are you doing right now? you should join me."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i cant im filming leniverse rn

you gasped. "what do you mean? stop watching me and go film!" you teased, mock-scolding her.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ we good. they're not rdy yet

"alright, just don't get into trouble because of me."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ talking to u is more important tho :/

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ nobody tell chaewon i said that

"there's a reason i act the way i do—it's because she says stuff like this," you said with an exaggerated sigh.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i miss u lets hang out soon

"we literally hung out yesterday," you reminded her, laughing.

user5 u did?

user6 i miss when y/n updated us

you nodded, leaning into the camera. "yeah, because we filmed the collab!" you added, catching yourself before revealing too much. "when will that be posted, zuha?"

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ shld be posted next week

"okay, tell your team to edit me well," you said with a grin.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i will.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i hv to film now talk l8r

"bye, zuha!" you waved dramatically, just as you got a perfectly timed message from yujin that she was almost ready.

"so, today we'll be playing games with yujin, who should be here soon," you announced to your chat. no sooner had you said it, you heard the familiar ping, signaling that yujin had joined the call.

"y/n, why didn't you warn me?" yujin exclaimed, her voice full of exasperation.

you blinked. "what do you mean?"

"leeseo just showed me what you all did in the video today."

"oh, that! yeah, she's crazy with it," you laughed, remembering the madness.

"she was all like, 'you wanna see what i learned?' and i'm thinking, sure, why not—'cause i'm actually curious about what y'all filmed. next thing i know, she reverses fast and does a freaking j-turn. i've never been so scared in my life."

"she did it first try, too. i was just sitting there, in shock."

"i just wish i had talked to wonyoung first," yujin muttered.

"i'm so glad you're the driver in the group. no way we'd be alive if wonyoung was behind the wheel."

"oh, absolutely," yujin agreed quickly. you both laughed before getting connected to the game, ready for the chaos that would follow.

zuhasgf connected

as soon as yujin's character appeared in the game lobby, you rolled your eyes, and immediately opened the menu, kicking her out without hesitation.

"alright, i'm in the game," she announced, unaware of what you'd just done.

"huh? y/n, did you just kick me out?" yujin's voice sounded confused.

you tried to act innocent. "wait, why'd you disconnect?"

yujin groaned, realizing. "you literally just kicked me."

"i think you need a new username," you replied.

"i can't get back in—did you ban me?" yujin chuckled.

"don't blame me because you can't get in the game," you said.

zuhasgf connected.

you immediately kicked her out again, this time banning her completely.

"y/n!" yujin yelled in disbelief.

"i told you to make a new username. i'm not accepting this one," you said firmly.

"just unban me!" yujin demanded, still laughing.

"are you trying to join with the same character?" you asked.

"yeah, did you unban me?"

"...of course," you lied smoothly.

once yujin finally decides to change her name back to normal, you two load into the game, the screen fades in, revealing your pirates standing confidently on a dock, the vast ocean stretching behind them, with a rugged ship rocking gently in the harbor.

"i don't have a shovel, so you're gonna have to do all the digging," yujin lazily announced.

"yujin, if you don't put some type of work in, i might actually fight you," you shot back.

you walk off in the opposite direction when you spot something off in the distance. "there's a ship here," you inform yujin.

she started her pirate roleplay. "arghh! i'm on my way!" yujin replied in a raspy pirate accent, rushing toward the ship with exaggerated enthusiasm.

suddenly, your screen started shaking violently. "what was that?" you muttered, trying to steady your view.

on the other end, you could hear yujin losing her mind, screaming incoherently. there were no actual words, just pure panic as she mashed buttons in a futile attempt to do... something.

while yujin flailed, you spotted an ocean crawler emerging from the sand. remaining calm, you casually pulled out your gun and shot it. meanwhile, yujin continued screaming in terror about something you couldn't even see.

then, out of nowhere, yujin set off an explosion—right next to you. the entire screen flashed red as both you and the surrounding enemies were blasted back.

"oh my god, yujin! what the fuck!" you yelled, your health bar dangerously low as you quickly ate some food to recover.

"you're welcome!" yujin chirped, completely ignoring the fact that she had almost killed you along with the monsters.

the battle ended, and you both wandered around the island, eventually stumbling upon a mysterious shipwreck. a spectral pirate appeared out of thin air, launching into an overly dramatic speech about ancient pirate lore.

"this is actually the longest speech i've ever heard. argh," yujin groaned.

you decided to pull out a ukelele from your inventory. yujin, never one to be outdone, joined in with her singing about finding the pirate captain, her voice cracking from the strain of trying to stay in character.

later, while you were still outside playing music, yujin's shrill voice pierced the calm.

"three ghost ships!" she shouted.

"let's go. we must go on an adventure!" you replied, dramatically diving into the water, heading for the ghost ship, determination in your heart.

however, as you swam, the tide came in, forcefully pushing your character back. you struggled against the current, while yujin, oblivious, had already made it onto your ship and was sailing away.

"yujin! get your ass back here!" you screamed, frantically swimming after the ship. "i'm literally sinking!"

after what felt like an eternity, yujin finally circled back for you. gasping for breath, you managed to pull yourself up onto the deck.

relieved to be back on board, you stood at the front of the ship, surveying the ocean ahead. you felt the wind in your face, the waves crashing against the hull. surely, yujin could be trusted to steer the ship... right?

but then you noticed something alarming. "yujin... we're gonna crash into this rock!" you said, your voice tense.

"anchor!" yujin screamed, but it was far too late. the ship slammed into the rock.

"we're gonna die on this ship. not even from the battles, it'll be from your terrible driving," you groaned.

"naww, we're good," yujin said confidently, somehow managing to reverse the ship and sail around the obstacle, acting like nothing had happened.

you decided to climb up to the ship's bowsprit, balancing precariously on the beam as the ship cut through the waves. "is standing up here a good idea?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"argh! of course it is!" yujin replied without hesitation.

"is playing music as we go into battle a bad idea?" she asked, joining you upfront with her accordian, strumming an out-of-tune melody.

you pulled out your ukulele from the inventory, matching her energy, and for a moment, it was peaceful—just two pirates making music.

then, without warning, the water around you started to churn. from the depths of the ocean, a massive kraken emerged, its tentacles towering above your ship.

both you and yujin screamed in unison as chaos ensued. you were flung into the water but somehow kept playing your ukulele, refusing to let the music die.

"it's sucking us in!" yujin shouted, her voice on the verge of panic. "load the cannons! we gotta fight this off!"

"can we even fight this thing?" you asked through fits of laughter, doubting your chances.

you quickly switched to the cannonballs, aiming at the monstrous tentacles, firing off shots as fast as you could. you felt like you were making progress, but then you noticed the ship was being dragged deeper into the abyss.

your screen flickered and went dark with a red outline. "what is even happening?" you groaned as your character faded into the ghostly realm.

as a spirit, you wandered aimlessly, spotting another figure. thinking it was yujin, you approached, only to realize it was a random player—a man who's character gave you a casual nod.

"later, dude," he said, disappearing into the void.

you eventually respawned back with yujin, both of you standing on the remains of your ship, now just floating debris in the ocean.

"well, that was a great sea of thieves adventure. we lost everything," yujin said, pulling out her accordion.

you pulled out your ukulele, shaking your head but smiling. "yeah, it was great."

"the fucking kraken..." yujin muttered.

"literally right before the pirate ship, too," you said.

"literally the most random shit," she added, laughing.

"crazy," you agreed, both of you still basking in the aftermath of the chaos.

"anyway, i guess we have to end here," yujin said, the energy winding down.

"yeah, we do," you agreed, starting the stream wrap-up.

you exited the call with yujin, turning your attention to chat. "alright, chat, it's about that time," you said, leaning back in your chair with a relaxed smile. "i'll be live tomorrow for some more games, maybe with a few friends, but i haven't locked anything in yet."

you glanced at the chat as messages rolled in, then continued. "also, keep an eye out—our channel's dropping a new video soon, so make sure to check that out when it's up. but yeah, that's all for today!"

you gave a casual wave. "thanks for hanging out, and i'll see you next time." with a final smile, you ended the stream.

ALL CHAPTERS !!! | NEXT CH !!!

[wings-of-ink]

Looking for your Input for IF Patreon

Hello my friends and neighbors! I hope you are all safe and well. I had some things to share with you and I am once again fishing for thoughts and opinions.

Like many of us who create these IFs, I am strongly considering a Patreon. I have no plans to go exclusively to Patreon, so don't fret. I want to make extra content to go along with any IF I work on, and I'd like to be able to put more things into these projects such as real art (including character portraits), and not just the stuff I flounder through on Canva. I'd like to pay my artist a fair wage and devote more of my time to this. Getting some support would help me allocate even more to these projects and extras. I'm testing the waters here to see if it's sustainable for both myself and subscribers as well. I do not know what timeframe I'm looking at to start this either.

I only want to do this if it's worth the while for everybody, so I'm putting out feelers and asking for your input.

Most of all - I want to know what you want in a Patreon sub. I also want to know what you feel to be a fair sub price for different tiers. Over the years, when I have been able, I have subbed to help support my favorite creators at all different levels. So, I have some ideas on what I am looking for in a subscription, what keeps me coming back, and what prices are both fair for the effort of the creator as well as for my pocket. But, what suits me may not be what you want, so that's why I need some feedback.

Below, I have compiled my ideas, so far, for possible tiers. None of these are set in stone, just a framework to build on to see if I'm on the right track. At the bottom is a poll (of course, it's like my favorite thing), and is probably the first of a few about this topic I will use. I welcome comments and suggestions on this topic. Tell me what you are looking for in a Patreon. What do you want from one each month? What keeps you subscribed? Please feel free to comment below or to send comments and suggestions via the Ask inbox, especially if you prefer to be anon (do let me know if you do not want your response posted - I may post some that either have questions or that I find relevant to the conversation).

I still do not know for certain what the ultimate future of God-Cursed will look like (meaning when it is all finished). I've played with the idea of eventually refining it to sell on itch and/or Steam. I have to admit that being able to do so would really feel like a huge accomplishment to me. I've always had dreams of being published and such, and it feels like a part of that dream. I, personally, prefer to buy IFs through either platform whenever I can. It supports my favorite authors, shows my appreciation, it compiles my favorite stories into an easy-to-find library, and I can relive my favorite stories over and over easily. So, needless to say, this is calling to me more and more.

Anyway, what I have come up with so far for possible offerings are these. Please let me know if something like this would work for you or if you have any suggestions for improvement:

An appreciation/tip jar - if the other tiers aren't for you or you just want to give a little love. Subscribers could get updates and public posts, and participation in polls.

A "Supporter" level - all the other stuff plus GC demo releases 1 month (30 days) in advance. I debated about the time, but I want to really make the early access feel worth it. This level would also be privy to some "insider" info (things cut, character development, the egregious typos, etc…). Of course there would be some sort of dev-log to go with this as well.

A "Plus" tier - all the above plus early release of demos for other IFs, more "behind the scenes" type things, and I'm thinking some POVs and other extra content (some interactive) such as short stories. These extras need not be exclusive to IFs either if anyone is interested in other things I write.

"SMUT" or "Spicy" tier - (being very honest, I'd be the most excited for this tier, lol) all the above including all things smut for each IF. This will include interactive extras, short stories, and any other horny content we want. Likely will run some polls and take suggestions for the spice you desire each month.

"Smut plus" (lol) - all the above, PLUS a patreon-only IF that I will have in the works (so, access to 3 projects in total). I have an idea for an IF that will focus on 1 RO at a time (each with their own complete and unique story within the same world), and I am itching to write it even if updates for it will be a bit slow. It will be more like a traditional dating sim type thing and may comprise all sorts of genres. This may be one that would be good for just subscribing on months that will have updates, and that's something I would probably post about publicly so if you're just interested in getting access, you don't have to worry about staying subbed.

And finally a sort of "Power Supporter" tier - this may be like a limited number sort of thing and be a bit pricey (not sure yet how much). You'd get a custom interactive story set in whatever world of mine you want that can be spicey or not. You'd give me all your MC's details (mostly cannon things but some liberties could be taken), physical traits and personality, and pick your RO and/or other desired characters. I'd take prompts or ideas from you as well concerning what you'd like in the story. You want a sexcapade - you can have that. You want to have tea with Oswin and his weird twin sisters - you got it. The main limitations are spoilers, of course, especially for any mystery ROs depending on when and if this all comes to pass. There may be some subject-matter that I will not write about, but I'd let you know what is out of bounds for me.

Naturally, I would also pop your name in the credits, I just don't know which tier that should go on.

So, there you have it. This has been on my mind for a while and I've gotten some questions and messages asking about if I will do something like this, so I'd like to give it a go at least.

Looking forward to hearing your ideas and desires! ^_^

~Lunan

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: This time, it's different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. At this point he’s stopped lying to himself – Joel’s here to see you.  pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: some angst, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts and actions (but no smut -- as always, dm if you want specifics), divorce mention. a/n: The next few weeks of my life will be insane (and NOT just because succession is coming back). I want to keep updating this, but something's gotta give, because the way I've been writing is not sustainable unfortunately. So updates may end up being shorter and the fic having more parts, or updates might be less frequent with longer parts. Also, a question for my loyal readers: Do you make your shirley temples with ginger ale or with Sprite/7up? Because I came from a sprite/7UP family but once i discovered ginger ale instead i was HOOKED. So i am a Ginger Ale Shirley Temple Truther.

-May 5, 2003-

Please pick up, please pick up, you cross your arms in front of you, looking over your shoulder. The pointed toe of your heels clacks against the asphalt as you tap it repeatedly, a steady beat. You have no reason to be so nervous, right now. It must have something to do with who you are calling, not just why. 

“Hello?” the droning ring is interrupted by a voice that sounds skeptical, they don’t recognize your number.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Hey, you,” his tone evens out when he hears you say his name. He had given you his cell phone number a few weeks back, the night he’d caught you smoking on your back porch. In case I’m not home and something’s goin’ on with Sarah, he’d said. It made sense, though all it did was tempt you to call him many times before this, and not about Sarah. You were worried because…maybe this was out of line.

There’s noises in the background that threaten to drown Joel out – saws and various power tools whirring, a jackhammer, men calling out to each other. It’s loud. At your job, you close the door to your office if someone is typing too loud on their keyboard. “I uh- I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You hear a door shut in response, and the noise fades to a low purr. “Not at all. Everything okay? Sarah alright?”

“Yeah, this isn’t about her, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“It depends,” In your mind, right now he’s leaning against a messy metal desk, one of his hands planted on its surface to keep himself stable, the muscles in his forearm flexing under tension. He’s got a toolbelt slung low over the waistband of his Carhartt’s. He’s a little sweaty – it’s hot out, today – his cheeks flushed, pieces of dark hair clinging to his forehead. The image is doing something for you, and you have to take a deep, measured breath to reset before you can answer him.

“Do you…know anything about cars?” you ask. 

“A little….why?”

“I took my car to get serviced, and…I’m pretty sure I’m about to be swindled.” You hesitate, then qualify. “I didn’t have anyone else to call, and…you seem like you might be good with this sort of thing.”

There are a lot of things you know a lot about, and cars are just not one of them. From your perspective, a car is simply a means to get from Point A to Point B, and the less you know about the how, the better. Although your complete lack of understanding definitely doesn’t help you in your current situation. You’d considered calling your brother, and even your father – but you knew they’d be no help, having lived in Manhattan their whole lives. 

Bradley had a nice car, but you suspected it was more for his image, and less because he knew anything about them. Plus, you didn’t really ask for much of each other outside of sex – and if you started too, it might initiate another talk about where you ‘see him in your future’, and the thought alone is grating, because you don’t. 

Since you moved away from home, you’ve spent a lot of time asserting to yourself that you’re completely independent. But moments like this remind you that it’s not entirely true…it’s not possible to be on your own in the way you want, and you always end up needing someone. 

“I might be able to help.” Joel sounds unconcerned. “What’s goin’ on?”

“They just told me my car needs a new battery, and I need new tires.”

“How old are they?”

“I don’t know like-” your phone vibrates furiously in your hand, an incoming call from your coworker. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” you groan out loud. “-Not you, Joel, sorry. I stepped away for lunch and…you know how it goes. Anyways, I don’t think I’ve gotten either of them changed since I got my car.”

“How old is your car?”

“Seven years.”

“Good lord,” Joel mutters, and he sounds somewhat disappointed. “Yeah, you should get both those things.”

“They weren’t lying? It’s gonna cost a couple hundred bucks.”

“No, I doubt they were,” he gives a warm chuckle, and it melts away some of your stress, even if your wallet is about to take a considerable hit. “Where’d you take your car?”

“I don’t know, just…some place around the corner from where I work.”

“In the future, you should go to Robert’s place in town. He’s done some work on my truck. Probably will cost a lot less.”

“Noted,” you nod. “Thanks so much, sorry for catching you at work.”

“Not at all, I don’t mind…” Joe answers. “Shipments keep getting delayed, so…it’s been kind of a slow day.”

“I’m jealous,” you say. “Because I swear, lately, whenever I leave the office for more than two minutes everything explodes….or at least it feels that way.”

“Sounds like you’re important,” Joel says, you can hear his smile over the phone, see it, practically. 

Scoffing, you answer. “Hardly. But uh, thanks again. I definitely owe you one.”

You expect him to say goodbye, so you’re surprised by what he asks next. “What are you doing Friday?” 

“I don’t know. What are you doing Friday?”

“I’m assumin’ Sarah’s probably left something at your place….if you’re gonna be around, I might stop by to get it….”

“You want me to smoke you up?” 

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant,” You’re direct.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I already told you, you’re welcome anytime,” you say. “But won’t Sarah-oh wait, no, she has that school dance, doesn’t she?”

Sarah had taken to writing important events in her life on the calendar that hung on your fridge. It was usually blank, you were good enough at remembering your own plans without utilizing it. But she had told you the empty calendar made her sad, so now it was filled with her doodles and notes, scribbled with blue glitter gel pen. And Friday night’s event she’d underlined three times.

“She does,” Joel answers, seemingly amused. 

Another call comes through on your phone. “Okay, yeah, I gotta go. But I’ll be around Friday.”

“Then maybe I’ll stop by,” Joel says, and you ignore the flash of heat through your abdomen – excitement – at the idea of him coming over.  “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 9, 2003-

Joel arrives at your place before the sun sets, once again. But this time, it is different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. Of course, he’s got his excuse, but really, at this point he’s stopped lying to himself – he’s here to see you. 

“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”

“You’re one to talk.” 

You squint at him, but the way the corner of your mouth quirks gives you away. “Touche.” 

God, he’s already regretting this. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. But it’s become increasingly difficult to resist you, and that’s assuming that you’re even interested. He’s all-but kissed you and he’s still not quite sure where he stands. You’re not easy to read, but he has always enjoyed a challenge. At the end of the day it’s never a bad idea for him to brush up on his flirting, Tommy’s words from a few weeks ago have been getting to him. For much as he believes it’s bound to happen, Joel doesn’t want to end up alone.

“Come on in,” you push yourself off the doorframe and lead him through your house.

The last time he’d been here you’d been wearing some long-sleeved, satin pajama set. He remembered because he spent all night trying not to touch the fabric, though maybe he was just looking for an excuse to touch you. Tonight, with your back turned towards him, his eyes wander down to the curve of your ass in your low-rise, bootcut jeans. He feels the slightest bit of shame about doing it, before deciding that what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

“How was the mechanic?” he asks once you’ve entered the back porch.

“Oh fine,” you say, sitting down on the couch, gesturing to the spot across from you. “I’m just pissed I had to spend a bunch of money on a car battery and not something more…fun.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Joel sits. “Honestly, I’m surprised you called me from the mechanic and not from a ditch on the side of the road.”

“This is my first car, Joel. I grew up in a walkable community,” you pick up an already-rolled joint, the faintest acknowledgement that you’d planned for this ahead of time – and lift it to your lips. 

“It’s okay, I’m teasing.” Joel assures, and lets his gaze linger while you smoke, just admiring, as he often does. When you pass the joint over to him, he speaks again. “I have to be good tonight, cause Sarah’s gonna be home in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, first school dance, big deal,” you raise your eyebrows. “Help me out, because I went to an all-girls school. It’s middle school. Do kids go with dates?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not that I know of. Sarah just went with a group of friends.” 

“That makes sense,” you nod. “Speaking of, I have to be good, too. I’m going to her soccer game tomorrow.”

Joel feels his brows knit together in confusion, and it causes you to continue on. “She keeps asking me to come to one, and I haven’t been able to, so I feel bad. I guess her season’s almost over.” 

“Tomorrow’s her last game…” Joel mutters, looking up towards the ceiling, where the smoke is collecting, and exhales. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Obviously, but…” you shrug. “...I want to.”

He chuckles to himself, runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp from the shower he took before this. “You’re really prepared to put yourself through a middle school soccer game…” 

“Look, Joel,” Your eyes are half-lidded, focused on him, and your arm is slung over the back of the couch, fist supporting your temple. “In case you couldn’t tell…I’m doing this thing where I try to engage in the community I live in. But so far, your family members are the only ones who’ve included me in anything, so until I find someone else….” you trail off. “You’re stuck with me.”

Joel doesn’t want you to find someone else. Being stuck with you is hardly a problem. He wants to tell you, but instead, all he manages is: “We’ll be good tonight.” Still, he’s not entirely convinced that he can trust himself to make a promise like that. 

It’s a tad too early for the sun to be setting, but it’s early in May, so the weather is perfect, and he’s sort of itching to be outside. Maybe there’s something to be done before the light wanes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks you.

You seem taken aback by his request, wrinkling your nose.”….I don’t know.”

“It’s a nice night, you might enjoy yourself. And we’re in good company.” 

The grimace on your face disappears, and is replaced by something more amiable. “We are,” you tilt your, make a decision. “Yeah, okay…let’s do it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you’ve locked your front door, closed your windows, Joel walks side-by-side with you down your driveway. You only make it about halfway down when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name, then his. 

Your next-door neighbor, Denise Watson, leans over the railing of her front porch, while her husband John sits in a chair behind her, giving a lazy wave and returning back to his puzzlebook. Joel nods at him, and notices the color has drained out of your face. The Watsons have lived on this street since before even Joel and Sarah moved in. They’re in their late 60s, retired, all their children grown – which gives them plenty of time to get into everyone’s business. 

“Hey,” you offer the most unenthusiastic greeting he thinks he’s ever heard. You’re paranoid, and he’d laugh if it were just the two of you, alone. But it’s not, and he knows these just so happen to be neighbors you’ve been lying to.

“How are you doing, hun?” 

“I’m good,” you say softly, and Joel watches Denise’s eyes flick over his direction. 

“Same here,” he manages. 

“What are you ya’ll up to?”

“We’re just goin’ for a walk,” Joel answers, looking your way. You nod at him, wordlessly, then at Denise. 

“How lovely.” She smiles, and it’s sincere, so he knows she doesn’t suspect anything. “It’s nice to see you two getting along so well.” Even from where he’s standing, Joel sees her eyebrows lift suggestively.

You and Joel both answer the insinuation at the same time.

“Yeah, well-” 

“She looks after Sarah for me, so-”

You bob your head enthusiastically. “Mhm, yeah. Sarah. Great kid.”

Denise opens her mouth again, and you speak so quickly, Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you’re afraid of what she’s going to say next. “We gotta go,” you shuffle backwards a few steps, quickly, and collide with Joel’s chest. “Before it gets dark out,” when you turn, you’re looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Oh, alright,” Denise says, sounding a little disappointed. “Ya’ll stay safe, alright?”

“Of course,” Joel calls over his shoulder, managing a halfhearted wave before he’s trailing you around the bend in the cul-de-sac that takes you out of view from The Watsons porch.

The second you’ve made it you whirl to face him, your jaw drops, and you both erupt into laughter. You grip his bicep and lean into him, pressing your face into the cotton of his t-shirt to stifle the noise. He’s tempted to pull you under his arm all the way, but he resists the urge. Would that be okay? He’s not sure. And he’s not necessarily in the best headspace to make the decision.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, swiping under your eyes as you pull back, and start walking a few steps ahead of him. 

“It’s like I’m back in high school,” Joel says. Neither of you decide to mention what your neighbor had insinuated, but it is objectively funny. 

“Oh, I’m sure you were trouble.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel says. “Although I did sneak out quite a bit. But it was only to see girls – well, one girl.” 

“Sarah’s mom?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” Joel isn’t sure why he’s mentioned it. It’s not really something he’s interested in speaking on now – or ever – for that matter, even if every person he’s mentioned it to has questions. What happened? What did you do? You poor thing. Above all else, he hated being pitied. 

But you don’t press him, and change the subject. “So…a few weeks ago you had said you and Tommy had a work project you were gonna book. Did that pan out?”

Joel cocks his head, surprised you remembered. “Actually, it did. Funny you ask. Things moved slow but…we signed the contract today. I’m sort of celebrating.”

“Congratulations,” you look over your shoulder slightly to give him a genuine grin. “But uh…you should’ve told me. Had I known we were celebrating, I would’ve tried to make things more exciting.” 

“Can’t think of anything better.”

You pause, because you’ve reached the end of your cul-de-sac. “Suit yourself.” you say. “Are you gonna lead though? I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Joel expects some kind of quip in response, but you just shake your head and narrow your eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears, he senses a bit of uneasiness. “You alright?”

“I’m fine I just…” you shake your head. “I don’t love being stoned in public.”

“You’re alright.” Joel puts his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to fall into step beside him. “Come on, darlin’, just walk with me.” It’s terrible how easily the term of endearment slips out – and he waits for your reaction. But all he feels is the way your body loosens under his touch. 

That brings him some satisfaction, but as usual, it’s not enough. Because if you’re not going to stop him, he longs to push the hair off your neck, kiss along your pulse point, feel you melt even further as his thumbs work at the muscles in your shoulders. Joel fantasizes about what his name might sound like, coming from you, in a breathless sigh. The image works him up a little too much, and he lets his hand fall back to his side.

For a while, you both walk in silence, your fingers brushing against his every so often, but neither of you acknowledge it, apologize, or decide to step further away from each other to keep it from happening again and again.

It’s a beautiful night, the warmth of the day dwindling under the blanket of thinning clouds tinted pink in the sunset. Joel is amazed at how content he feels, can’t remember the last time he’s felt this way – not worried about someone, or something, or letting anyone down. 

It’s May, so almost all the native flowers are in full bloom. Tulips planted in gardens, pansies overflowing from pots on porches, dandelions dotting pristine green lawns. Stepping away from Joel, you pause in front of an empty, overgrown lot that’s basically turned into a wildflower patch. 

“This is nice,” you say, decidedly. “It’s pretty.” 

“I told you.”

Once more, he expects some clever retort, but your eyebrows are pinched together, and you crouch to look closely at some bluebonnets that are the same color as the tight-fitting henley you’ve got on. “I know you mentioned it back there but… Sarah’s told me…about her mom.”

Joel feels himself stiffen. “Yeah….well, she never really got to know her.” 

When he’s feeling particularly remorseful, his brain replays a memory of Sarah, only four years old, toddling around the tiny apartment they lived in and calling out for her mother. His ex had left when she was so young, so he had known there was no way Sarah actually remembered her. But all her classmates had two parents, all the movies she watched at home depicted loving, complete families. That night, after tucking her in, he’d retreated to his room, and cried for the first time since his divorce. Ever since then, it was impossible to shake the feeling he wouldn’t be enough.

Sometimes, he felt better about it then others. Sarah grew out of that phase, and Joel thought that’d be the last of it. When he finally bought the house, he felt like he’d proven he could do it alone. They would be fine. That was until Joel found an old photo of him and his ex underneath Sarah’s pillow while he was changing her sheets. The discovery left him with the same feeling all over again. 

Now, in the wake of the excitement that he’s signed onto his first real contracting gig, a promotion, a raise – this information from you deflates him all over again. 

“You don’t like to talk about it?” you guess correctly. 

“Not particularly.” Normally, Joel would shut something like this down. But he can’t bring himself to be cruel to you. “We were young. What happened was for the best. I wish Sarah understood that.”

“You don’t give her enough credit. She’s a bright kid,” you answer, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Anyways, I get it. When you cut yourself off from a bad situation, it's hard. The alternative is worse, though. People forget that part.”

Joel feels a little reassured by what you’re saying. Why he immediately went on the defense when you brought it up, he’ll explore later. “I wish more people understood,” he murmurs. 

“Me too,” you nod, and you nudge him gently to keep walking. “And people process things differently. It makes sense she's curious. It’s a very human thing.” 

“I know.” What was it that you had said a few weeks back? They’re always with you, no matter what. That’s not a sentiment Joel can completely wrap his head around yet. “It does make me think sometimes…maybe she needs some else….someone who isn't…me.””

“Oh, come on, Joel,” you halt in your tracks, almost like he’s offended you in some way. You look up at him from under your eyelashes. “You’re a good man.”

Validation. He doesn’t get it often – ever, really. And he doesn’t need it, but….coming from you, he feels like he just wants more. And more. He can think of a few ways he might get it, too. Some less innocent than others. 

“Should we turn around?” he asks. You nod. 

There’s a bit of light still remaining in the sky by the time you round the corner to Joel’s street, but the sun has set long ago. He’s probably supposed to say goodbye, standing at the end of your respective driveways, but he finds that end to the evening rather disappointing. 

“You know what I can’t stop thinking about right now?” you ask, Joel. He’s a little hesitant to answer, based on the ornery glint in your eyes. All he has to do is raise his eyebrows, and you continue. “A shirley temple.”

Joel can’t help but laugh, and he sees how you light up at the sound. “You serious?” he asks. 

“I know they’re….for kids, but…I don’t know. They’re really fucking good.”

“They are,” he answers, and you’re at the end of your driveway. He hesitates for a second, thinks you might say goodbye, but you just check over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you. He does. 

“This is probably the weed talking, but I’m going to make some.” You unlock your front door, and he holds it open to let you step inside, before following. 

“You have the stuff to make them?” he questions. 

Yes, you bob your head, then walk to the corner of your front room and flick on a light. Warm light floods the room, and you walk through the archway into your kitchen. When he follows you there, your back is towards him, opening a glass-doored cabinet containing various liquor bottles, wines, cordials, and accoutrements. 

“You want one? I have to say, I’ve been making them a lot lately, and I think I’ve perfected the recipe.”

“Well in that case, I’ve gotta try,” Joel wanders to your small kitchen table, about a quarter of it covered in neat piles of paperwork. There’s a messenger bag slung over the back of a chair, and in front of it is there’s a thick contract. The page it’s opened to is riddled with blue ink, crossing through sentences, scribbled in the paper’s margins. He can’t make out any of the jargon in the fine print. Next to it sits a pair of thin black reading glasses, and a sleek fountain pen engraved with your name. 

His eyes fall next to a stack of old photographs sitting atop an opened envelope. With two fingers, he pushes the top photo off the stack, once, twice, three times, until he gets to the bottom of the pile, and they’re spread out in front of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be snooping like this, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. 

Joel doesn’t recognize the people in most of the photos. One of them is a school photo of a young boy, with Spring ‘03 printed in the lower right hand corner. But the remaining two…he realizes are of you, but you’re young, your cheeks rounder, features not quite as defined. Younger than Sarah, if he had to guess. In both, you’re wearing the same thing – a black turtleneck, a plaid skirt that hangs past your knees, and black Mary Janes. 

In one, you’re cheek to cheek with a teenage boy who you’re giving bunny ears. Your brother. Has to be. You look too similar. His arm is across your shoulders, and you’re smiling so wide your eyes are closed. 

In the other photo, though, your face is blank. A wide, empty stare, straight into the camera. Behind you, his hands on your shoulders, is an older man whose gaze has the same determined set Joel has seen on you before. Something about the photo, the haunted look on your face, makes him feel like he’s seen something he’s not supposed to, and he slides the print underneath a stack of papers.

“If you’re gonna look at those papers, I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA,” you say over his shoulder, and Joel is startled by the sound of your voice, and the feeling of a glass, cold and damp with condensation, being placed in his hand. “Here.”

You peer around his shoulder, face brushing against the side of his arm as you see the photos. “Oh,” your voice drops slightly when you realize what he’s looking at. “My brother sent those. That’s my nephew, Ethan.” You point to the school photo of the little kid, but don’t offer an explanation for any of the others. 

Joel clinks his glass with yours and notices that you’ve balanced a toothpick with two maraschino cherries on its rim. It’s refreshing, delicious, and the fizz tickles his nose as he takes the first sip. 

“Restaurant quality,” he tells you. You lean back against your counter, studying him. When you stare at him like this, as he’s caught you doing a handful of times before, it always makes him feel feral. Like some kind of animal, the way he has to hold himself back from pouncing. You look at him like there’s no one else around, and yeah, there’s no one else around right now, but even when you’re in public, you’ve done it, too. And he doesn’t know how to tell you to stop – he doesn’t really want to. “How’d you perfect the recipe?” he asks. 

“Practice,” you glance at the bubbles dancing through the ice in your glass before focusing back on him, sheepish. “Sarah likes them.”

So you’ve made them for her. Joel sits his drink down. “She does.” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I think I need a snack or something.”

“You don’t have any ice cream, do you?”

“Uhhh…check the freezer?” you say over your shoulder, rummaging through your cabinets for a bowl, and Joel rises to do so. “I think I only have coffee-flavored, though.”

“Good choice,” he answers. His favorite.When he opens the freezer, he’s met with a blast of cool air, a cloud of steam. 

“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” you tease, coming to stand next to him, but Joel is too focused on the box of orange popsicles he sees in front of him, and pulls them out to look at the box. “You like these?”

“Not really. I’m partial to cherry.”

“Sarah loves these,” he remarks. 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t buy them for her anymore, because one time she ate twelve in one day.”

You sniff, grin. “She told me that.”

He studies the drink that you’ve set on your countertop, the box in his hand. “So you bought these for her?”

“Yeah, why?” you cross your arms, almost defensively.

“Are any of the other snacks here just for her?”

“...No,” he can tell you’re lying, and your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second. “Don’t look in that cabinet, though.” 

Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”

You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”

Joel’s sure he’s staring at you slack-jawed. Not because he’s upset with you, no. It’s quite the opposite. He shakes his head, grins, and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” but you’re giggling, too. “It’s not funny.” You reach to swat at him playfully, and something inside him snaps. 

Joel is sick of coming up with excuses to see you. He’s sick of holding you at arms length. He’s sick of not taking what he wants to. He’s sick of pretending he hasn’t thought about you every single day since he first saw you, standing in this very kitchen, leaning over the island and chatting with Sarah. He wants to walk in your front door and know that he can have you however he likes, that he’s allowed to. He realizes if he doesn’t act, he’ll never find out. It’ll eat him alive.

So before you can make contact, he wraps his hand around your wrist, draws you in closer. It catches you off guard, sure, but your eyes are locked, and he sees that you’re not shaken in the slightest.

“You know,” he says. “You’re nicer than you think.” 

The energy in the room has shifted. But it doesn’t seem to phase you, and when he’s this close, he can study every freckle on your face, the color of your eyes – can remind himself, again, though he hardly has to – just how beautiful you are. You lower your arm, and at first – he panics, thinks that you might be pulling away. He’s read it wrong, all wrong. But all your doing is giving yourself a better angle to grip his wrist in kind, hand clasping over his broken watch.

“Keep it to yourself, Joel.” you whisper. And it's supposed to be a joke, but you can't seem to tear your gaze off his lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I will.” 

Joel kisses you. Hard. It’s like a dam breaking, every time he’s held himself back from you comes barreling forward, and it’s all right there. Everywhere. Overwhelming. But he can't stop. He moves with purpose, cupping your chin. He winds his other arm around your waist, crushing you against him. You taste sweeter than he’d imagined, cherry-flavored syrup lingering on your lips. You groan against him, your head tilting back as he moves in closer, jaw relaxing, lips parting.

It’s just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, to continue to explore, to claim. The things he’s going to do to you…It could be the weed, but every nerve in his body is on high alert – his skin scorches in the wake of your hands raking up his biceps, tangling in his unruly waves. It could be the weed, or it could just be that good.

More, he wants more, and he’s crowding you back towards the counter next to the fridge. Somewhere, distantly, he hears the freezer door fall closed – and probably not all the way – the ice cream long since forgotten. The moment your back hits the granite, you pull away with a ragged inhale, only enough to look him in the eyes.

“Took you long enough,” One of your hands rises to his face.

Joel presses his cheek into the warmth of your palm. “I thought it might be better to keep you waiting.”

You only shake your head, pulling him back into the kiss. He shifts his weight to hook his hands behind your knees and lift you onto the counter. It’s a bit overzealous, and your head bumps the cabinet behind you, but you don’t seem to notice. Both your legs hook around his hips, drawing him in further. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on just from kissing someone – not even for that long – but it’s just so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot. 

But, he’s capable of one rational thought. This can’t be how it happens. You’re worth more than an animalistic fuck on a kitchen countertop. There’s so much more he wants to do that can’t be done here, like this. And…it’s you. You deserve better, although the frustrated noise you let out when he draws back indicates you think the opposite. Another time.

“I’m sor-I-we can’t,” Joel manages. 

Your face drops, you look….almost angry at him. The second he sees it, he realizes what he said was all wrong. “No, I mean we can, we can, just not….not now.”

The anger dissipates, you shift back, but reach out, pushing a piece of stray hair off his forehead and running your thumb along his sharp jawline. “Why not?”

“I just…I didn’t-” he shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve wanted this for awhile now, but….this isn’t…I wasn’t expecting-” Fucking spit it out, you dipshit. “Can I take you out or something first?” 

You don’t answer, just shift forward, your forehead bumping into his chest. Joel he brings his arms around your shoulders despite himself. And then your lips are on his neck, teeth scraping, teasing, working up to his ear, where you whisper. “You don’t have to.”

He fucking has you. He could. So easily. “I want to.”

You pull back, and there’s a split second where he swears you look a little ashamed, and then it vanishes. “You are a romantic.”

“Not entirely…” Joel says. “I just…would rather do things right. For someone I like.”

“Someone you like?”

“Yes.” Obviously. 

“Okay, yeah,” you murmur softly. “I would like that.” 

“Next weekend?” 

“That long?” 

He chuckles. “It’ll be worth the wait.” But you don’t seem convinced. “I promise.”

For a split second his eyes flick over your shoulder to the microwave, and he sees what time it is. “Shit. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s late. Sarah’s gonna be home any minute and if I’m not home-” he pauses, gestures between you. “We shouldn’t uh…we shouldn’t mention this to her. Not for now, at least.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it,” you shake your head in agreement. 

Joel leans in to kiss you again. This time, he keeps it slow, tender, lingering. Even though he knows he’ll get to see you again, he still finds it hard to tear himself away.

----

part v

taglist: @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester

[coffeeadict61]

Humans Are Weird: Auditory Processing Disorder

Report # 306

Topic: Auditory Processing Disorder

APD: disorder of the auditory (hearing) system that causes a disruption in the way that an individual's brain understands what they are hearing.

Four days ago I was doing my monthly meeting with the electrical department, receiving updates on our monthly usage, needed parts, and checking up on general morale. (The transcript of that meeting is already turned in.) After the meeting we had refreshments and I discovered Lucy (previously mentioned in report #286) pouting in a corner. I inquired what was bothering her. She said, "The ship's head medic just diagnosed me with APD but he wasn't trained to treat it." I asked for further information on the condition. She listed several of her personal symptoms. "It means I don't always catch what people say. It feels like my brain doesn't want to listen. In one ear and out the other making me look stupid to however I talk to. It's connected to my misophonia, and the fact I was born really premature."

I was unsure how to comfort her so I made no effort. This seemed to work for Lucy kept speaking.

"And what's worse is there's nothing I can do! We don't have a speech therapist aboard or even any research materials! Its starting to affect my work performance. On top of decoding, hypersensitivity, and prosodic problems, I have integration issues which mean its really hard for me to focus on what people are saying when I'm doing something. Which freaking sucks when you're part of a team!" I had no clue what she was really talking about but gave her a hug (human gesture of enveloping one in your arms as a sign of comfort or safety), and she apologized for "venting" to me.

She then spoke on how her crew mates just thought she was "slow" or wasn't good at her job. They questioned if she was capable because she would follow directions incorrectly and she was worried she'd be replaced with someone "less problematic". I tried to assure her that I would help anyway I could on her behalf. Never again will I doubt a human's sincerity.

After some of my own personal research I have made a list of the different types and their definitions for your education on the subject:

Hypersensitivity – Hypersensitivity to sound is often diagnosed as misophonia or hyperacusis. Misophonia is when people have adverse physical reactions to sounds, such as becoming nauseated by the sound of chewing or slurping. Hyperacusis, on the other hand, is characterized by a sensitivity to sounds. For some, this means that white noise can be deafening, even causing physical pain.

Decoding – Decoding difficulties involve a lack of figuring out words that are spoken. They hear the sounds, but their brains do not process them as words.

Integration – Integration applies to those who struggle to do multiple things while listening. Such multi-tasking may be writing notes and listening, or having conversations while typing an email.

Prosodic – Prosodic refers to people who have trouble with tone, inflection, and implied meaning. A question and exclamation are processed identically in their brains. Their speech is also often monotone.

Organizational – Finally, organizational, or output, is often characterized by not recalling information in a specific order or having difficulty with noisy situations.

Honestly, Humans are so diverse and unpredictable. To think that different "problems" or " abnormalities " within their mind or body can lead to even more similar issues astounds me. They are so intricate in a way my species has never been. Despite the struggles that their disorders, and conditions being, I think it's strangely beautiful. Maybe that's just me, but I have a new appreciation for them.

I am requesting the presence of a speech therapist, whether physically or digitally, to be readily available to our crew. We must also add APD onto our medics research requirements. It is not an overly complicated subject to be fluent in. I also request that Lucy's diagnoses be added to her list of wrongful termination along with her gender, age, and race. No one should feel their position is at risk because of a disorder or disability. I also request that a written copy of daily instruction be printed for her if necessary. She is one of our best electricians and I mean to keep her employed here as long as she wants.

Human Observer #5743

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEBLOG: Dofus Novel 4, The Thirsty Beheader

I apologize for my absence. Translating this novel has burned me out from the fandom in a pretty major way, and I also got into a different fandom in the meantime and am, like, three 4k word chapters deep into a longfic for said new fandom. Besides that, I had a depressive episode and went insane for a while. Basically, I've been a bit busy.

At the same time I release this post, I have uploaded the new, updated versions of both translations (since this liveblog is mostly a reason for me to reread and fix stuff) to MEGA and VK, so I recommend you download the new versions!

I will mostly be copying the text directly, to bypass tumblr's image restriction, but some screenshots will be provided. For example:

If pride is a sin, then the typesetting and cleaning I went through with this book will have me go to hell after I die. (I don't think I'm a master, but I did a pretty good job, ok?)

A cart had just entered the District of the Lost Steps. It stopped in front of the store, as two Srams* got out.

I love the internal consistency of the street being named here. Thank you, author of this book, for caring.

“Are you sure about this,” asked the little guy, “Is this really the right place?” “Yeah,” replied the tall one, “There aren't thirty-six Shushu* houses in the neighborhood.”

LMAO this is something Kerubim is actually known for, huh?

At the time that this book takes place in, joris can't read very well. Cute...

Also, hehe... I am pretty proud of the way this part of the book was cleaned + the font + the layers and colors and opacity I applied to the text, to make it fit in with the paper.

^^^ This is me btw, during this entire post. ^^^

The entirety of the epilogue and prologue are typed on top of cleaned backgrounds sourced from the scan. The rest of the book is typed in front of a digital background. This artistic choice was made because....... You can't set different pages to be different colors in word. You have to overlay some image or a textbox, if you want a page to be a different color.

Anyway — I had a lot of fun searching for the fonts from this book! (and far less fun searching for appropriate fonts for the Russian translation since none of the fonts this book uses have cyrilic versions...)

The fonts this book uses are: Dimbo, Chelsea Market, and Aleo. Google them for all your Dofus Aux Tresors de Kerubim related needs.

The fonts I chose to use in the russian translation are: Brydan Write, Correction Brush, Curinn, and Itim. I just had to make do with what I had, ok?

“My Papycha said it's urgent!” exclaimed Joris, “He could be in danger. Maybe he's being attacked by the Thirsty!” Even Pupuce looked worried. Simone reread the message, thinking out loud: “The Huffing Bow Wow tavern is in the Pandawa district... There's plenty of bamboo milk there. Maybe the neighborhood is overrun by the Thirsters?” “And soon, the whole city will be under attack!” concluded Joris.

Nobody knows how to escalate a situation better than a 7yo with anxiety. God bless <3

The Ecaflip goes full "war machine" mode: he cuts and slices through the living dead for the entire night, and when the golden disk of the sun finally rises over the horizon, the scenery is carpeted with the Thirsty. The region is saved. Kerubim becomes a legend. To thank him, the local lord offers him the... “Hey... Joris? Are you listening?” asked Simone. She began shaking the boy, who, abruptly snapping out of his reverie, mumbled: “Huh? What?”

Joris is so normal. So sane.

“Bye-bye,” added Bowiknif. But Luis slammed the door in their faces, roaring: “You're not going anywhere!” “Oh yeah?” hissed Bakstab, “Is that so?” “Would you like us to chop up your friends with a Brakmarian steel sword of Chouque?” questioned the other, “Or with Samuel J. Axe?” Luis muttered what sounded like a string of expletives, before reluctantly opening the door to the two robbers, who bolted out without further ado.

I'm LITERALLY fucking insane about this.

“I'm sorry,” said Luis, “I tried to hold them back, but...” “We know, we saw everything,” the girl cut him off, “You did your best, Luis.”

Actually deranging. Also explains why Luis did fuckall about Sipho, Harebourg, and Ush — there's just not much he can actually do.

She spotted a Dragoturkey standing near a trough. In two strides, she reached the animal, untied it, and climbed onto its back like an experienced Dragogirl*. “Let’s go!” she said to the boy.

This once again raises a some questions about Simone's past — when did she learn how to ride dragoturkeys? Is it the same reason why she knows how to fight, at least a little?

Then again, maybe she's just being an Osamodas here.

I love, love, love the Simone&Joris content in this book. Their bond is so important to me... She's the aunt who stepped up.

This art is so nice...

They had run like mad through half the city, arrived at the wrong address, turned back just as a thunderstorm broke out, wandered around in the rain in the Pandawa district, and FINALLY arrived at the Huffing Bow Wow Tavern, a large, long building with a thatched roof.

They're so fucking stupid. I love them.

“Ah, there you are!” called out Kerubim, “I almost thought you’d make me wait some more!”

I wish english also had the phrase "I almost thought you'd be late" as a cunty response when someone's an hour or three late to an event. I don't think the english translation I made conveys the sheer frustration.

Kerubim raised an eyebrow — a perfect copy of the circumflex accent:

I struggled with this part a lot in russian sjfkgdfg. It made me nerd out a little bit too.

I didn't have a lot of comments here, but eh. It was nice to finally get this over with dfjgkdsfg.

[fangirltothefullest]

Thoughts on the welcome home update because YES. Spoilers below the cut.

That sleep aid pill is called remderem which is almost "remember" but the d would be backwards, and its also almost "murder me" while missing the u. Is this anything? I don't know. Im always looking for names of things in args.

We have seen through two puppets eyes. First it was Wally and his discomfort and/or dissociation, and now it's Eddie's discomfort and/or dissociation. Which is fun because we've heard that Eddie would do crafts for the show and you'd just see his hands so that was a fun touch.

First iteration of the website we had mail letters (Eddie) giving us clues. Second iteration had bugs (Frank?) and active drawings (Wally?) giving us clues. Now we have symbols giving us clues and they remind me of stickers a little bit so possibly a connection to Sally? Who else would give the tiny pictures? Questions questions.

At the end of that commercial before his existential crisis, they say Eddie has been invited and they did his job for him so he could rest. Eddie does not seem happy about them doing his job for him instead of letting him do it himself. I am reminded of how clumsy with the mail he seems to be sometimes and how much work they make him do in the other audio clips. I wonder if he is feeling extremely overwhelmed but also unappreciated and that they can do all this work to help and choose not to most days? Sally insists it was easy to do and Eddie does not sound pleased.

One thing i can't stop thinking about and i have to go back and really re-watch the commercials closely, is Poppy. When they invite Eddie to the party they say everyone is there but there's no Poppy in the picture? And earlier they poured gravy on an ornament that, to me, looked very oddly shaped and almost like meat, and we hear Poppy, but we don't see her. So... a pea on a plate..... "P" on a plate? My brain could be misconstruing but did they eat Poppy and is that what he's actually seeing and is that why it's all red? I'd he seeing the reality beyond the mask? Is it more than a pea?

Eddie says "where?" In his crisis as a response to Frank calling his name. People are talking about this as if he doesn't know where he is. I agree this is a likely idea but what if he's asking where Poppy is? Do we ever actually see her in any of the videos or do we just hear her?

Wally has feelings a lot which is good to confirm he has feelings! Eddie also said he would be happy with an apple every single day and my he is an innocentbautism creature wally agenda is flourishing.

The amount if commercials has me fascinated because people used to do that for TV shows (still do but those earlier type ones welcome home is referencing is spot on) commercials for basically everything is accurate and what is funny is the accuracy of what each person is selling. Howdy with the cigarette commercial- he takes every opportunity to sell you something no matter what even if it's not good for you. Sleepy looking Wally selling you sleeping pills happy with the thought of the dream.

Wally being nervous about getting the holiday correct. Is it because he's never done it or ia Home going to hurt him?

Did home hurt Eddie because he was upset during the party? It sure fucking looks like it with home watching him so intensely. Does the chair have something to do with it?

Eddie's scribbled writing reminds me of the people trying to decipher the code on the safe.

On the secret pages it's signed "-W." But it talks as if it's a human person who watched the show and is working either the WHRP team. It also talks too grown up to be wally. Who is this?? Is it the same person from the terrified scribbles of the hidden page previously? It seems maybe so because of referencing needing the cleanup.

[loves1ckgirl]

Denki Kaminari with an online best friend

Denki x American! reader

Online friends + maybe romantic-ish

Note, I have no idea how to write in the grammar of someone learning English so I’m just avoiding contractions and using a bit of chat gtp to make the sentence to be a little more incorrect lol.

He initially met you while playing a FPS at 3am

The game between you and both was mostly silent aside from some English and Japanese cursing, Denki understood some what you said

You however; did not understand him, but assumed he was expressing the same frustration and wasn’t just getting upset at you

After your first game was played, he had sent you a few emojis and a little english

The game you had been playing along side some random from Japan had gone surprisingly well. It was such a bad game for the loser you wondered if it was because they were absolute garbage or all of a sudden you became a gaming god. As you leaned back in your chair and attempted to fix the knot that formed in your back from hunching, you looked back at your computer screen. There you see a friend and message request.

Kaminarieki

“You are good at playing. Can we play more?”

As you read the message, you decide to respond and pray he wasn’t some 30 year old incel. After all, you were bored, and a bit lonely.

After that first interaction, you would go on to play with him often

However, neither of you talked very often especially after you came to the conclusion you didn’t speak the same language

In the end, there were still some short convos

Kaminari liked these, as he thought you were cool

The fact that UA English classes were more rigorous helped him in talking to you (a hero needed to communicate with a large variety of people)

A couple of months in, he was struggling with his classes exponentially, and no amount of help by his friends would help him,

He then thought it was a good idea to message you and explain that he thought it would be nice to talk and learn through a fluent speaker instead

Kaminarieki

“Can we talk a lot I am learning English I think your cool.”

“I’m down. It’s late now though. I have school is tomorrow okay? Also, the your should be you’re”

Kaminari sends a cute little heart emoji,

“Yes. Thank you.”

For awhile, you’d avoid many abbreviations and some complex Slang

Eventually Kaminari had gotten more advanced and you spoke more casually

After exchanging Instagram and other accounts, instead of mostly talking as you guys played, it started during school and random times of day

The time difference didn’t mean much since the both of you had terrible sleep schedules

(Although, he was a bit more regular due to his hero school)

As you talked to him you obviously found more of his personality and it had become more endearing tbh

He’d most definitely google English pick up lines

Eventually as his friends noticed his behavior and how if he’d planned to play with you he’d decline

Also how he’d be texting more than before (mostly on his Sundays and Monday’s as you’d be awake the longest when he was.)

Lowkey hates the time difference tbh.

Anyway, as his friends noticed him typing away on those two days in particular they’d begun to ask questions about who he was texting

“My friend.” He’d say, looking up from the phone for a second before continuing the text. Mina had begun even more curious than previously.

“Whaaa? Friend? Who?” She asks, leaning over the couch and Kaminari’s shoulder. She sees joke flirty messages that he sends and receives.

He ended up telling them about you and explains that’s why his English grade was getting better

Anywayyy he’s overall super cute with you

Basically just being himself

If you ever wanted to learn Japanese he’d 100% do his best to help you enthusiastically

He tries his best to keep you updated since it’s its hard to talk to you regularly

[spale-vosver]

About Me

UPDATE: Y'all lost anon privileges because you're too pussy to insult me and put a face to it.

I'm Geoff, a 21 year old history major and aspiring archivist. I use he/xe/xey pronouns, and I'm a crippled transsexual faggot converting to Judaism.

This blog, much like my interests, is very eclectic, and will largely consist of reblogs -- though I'm not opposed to making my own posts when the mood strikes.

I'm incredibly nerdy and love to ramble, so please don't hesitate to ask me about any of my interests! Said interests, along with more info and DNI, are under the cut. Also, please feel free to spam like and reblog, as well as message me!

* I am an adult

I'm 21, and will more than likely post adult content with NSFW text and subjects. However, I will never post explicit sexual content, gore, etc. This is your warning. Please keep this in mind if you choose to interact with or follow me!

* I'm disabled

I'm autistic, have ADHD, OCD, ARFID, BED, and OCPD. Physically, I have asthma, chronic leg and ankle pain that causes me to limp, dysautonomia, chronic fatigue, and suspected migraine disorder. I use identity first language (autistic man, disabled man, etc), and identify strongly with the cripplepunk movement. I personally don't care who uses the word cripple or identifies with the movement, but that's because I don't give a shit about slur discourse.

* I'm converting to Judaism

After five years of convincing myself out of it, I've begun the process of converting to Judaism, and will blog about it here. I have a sponsoring Conservative synagogue and will be beginning conversion classes in August. I will not share the name of my synagogue nor its location for obvious reasons. I do not and will not tolerate antisemitism, nor will I answer bad faith questions about Israel/Palestine. If you absolutely have to know my opinions, I'm pro-Palestine, pro-cohabitation, and politically anti-Kahanist and vehemently opposed to Likud and the Israeli government.

To my knowledge, I do not have any Jewish heritage -- both sides of my family are strongly Catholic and are from Ireland, Germany, and Poland. If there are any Jews in my family line, we either don't know about them or they converted to Christianity.

* I do not budge about my identity

I am a transsexual crippled faggot who supports dykes, trannies, cocksuckers, muffdivers, queers, fairies, aces, aros, and who, again, does not give a shit about slur discourse within the queer community. Don't try to start that with me. You will be blocked. I loudly and proudly support all good faith queer identities. Yes, even those ones.

* Interests

As mentioned, I'm a huge huge huge nerd! Right now I'm obsessed with Doctor Who (Five is my favorite), but I'm a big sci-fi/fantasy fan in general. I also love trains and sustainable urban planning and am prone to going on rants about the absolute state of train travel in America.

* Please ask me to tag things!

I'm really bad about tagging in general, so please ask me to tag any potential triggers! I will probably forget if I'm not explicitly asked. However, I will not tag any slurs that I can reclaim or use.

DNI

Exclusionists (ALL TYPES), antisemites/islamophobes/racists/queerphobes/ableists/bigots/etc, if you think queer is a slur, if you think minorities have to be "nice" or "polite" to earn your support, if you use "Zionist" to mean "Jew I don't like", antitheists, exvangelicals/exmos/etc who refuse to deconstruct their cultural Christianity, and probably more I forgot to mention. I'm not going to humor your shit. I will block you.

[barkhoffman]

rest in peace tumblr user barkhoffman 🕊🕊

I'm gonna use this ask I got to springboard an explanation as to why I've gone silent and stopped updating, so! here it is! the Discourse no one asked for!

it was brought to my attention recently that some people on twitter (a site which I no longer use and have not used for years because it is a cesspool) have been vaguing/insulting SLAP, which! sure! fine, that's your right! not everyone has to like what I create, I don't mind that at all! that's not why I vanished, though.

my issue with these "criticisms" is that they ended up insulting who I am as a person. accusations of fatphobia, transphobia, and ableism (among other things) have been leveled at me, and that's where I personally draw the line.

you don't have to like me. you don't have to like what I write. but when you call my moral character into question, I get a little bothered.

an example: some of the accusations include calling me transphobic for using the word "vagina" to refer to a transmasc character's genitals. for those of you who don't know (not that I should have to disclose this information), I am not cis. trans people are not, in fact, a hivemind, and the idea that we should all be ashamed or uncomfortable or whatever the fuck with our anatomy unless we couch it in different terms is actually rather more transphobic than using a medically accurate term to refer to a person's genitals during a smut scene -- a scene which is written from the third-person limited perspective of a 48-year-old cis man who is unfamiliar with transgender issues, so even if it WAS universally offensive to call a vagina a vagina, it would still be in-character.

the thing is, in-character observations, speech, and thoughts are not actually a universal indicator of the author's identity or beliefs. things that you dislike or that make you feel uncomfortable are not automatically morally impure, and you don't have to reach for reasons to say the creator is a bigot because you don't agree with how they portrayed things.

(there's also something to be said about the inherent colonialist racism in the transmed viewpoints that lend to "transmascs shouldn't ever have vagina used to refer to their genitals," dismissing nonwhite cultures with a rich history of third/other genders and gender euphoria. DYSphoria is not the only trans experience. furthermore, calling the word vagina "female-gendered" is a slap in the face to all of us who are NOT female who have no problem referring to our genitals in that way. idk man, are the arguably more gendered terms "pussy" and "cunt" REALLY more appropriate here? should I have used "bonus hole" instead? not sure what the solution is supposed to be.

anyway.)

I could go on and on and get into every little accusation thrown at me and how insulting and ridiculous they are, but I don't want to invite that level of discourse. this is bad enough. it is absolutely batshit bonkers that I, as a nearly 30 year old person, am sitting here typing this right now. it is even more wild to me that at least some of the people involved in this drama are apparently in their 30s as well.

listen to me. look me in the eyes. if those of you who have a problem with my fics expended even half that energy into helping actual real life people instead of defending the nonexistent honor of fictional ones, the world might actually get better.

I know, I know. it feels good to vague on twitter and pretend you're doing activism when you're trashing a small creator's work in a way that's very likely to get back to them. it feels nice to know you've "saved the world from some evil" when you discourage people like me from continuing their projects. it feels like you're making a difference, right?

unfortunately, you are not. I would advise those of you involved in all this to get well soon and mature a little bit past wrongly deducing someone's viewpoints via the fictional works that they create. there are happier and more productive ways to spend your time, I swear.

I'm not mad, honestly. I'm just sort of tired. tired of getting messages asking where I am and what happened. tired of feeling like I have all this bottled up inside. tired of fandoms that would rather stoke fake moral outrage like Republicans than, idk, go to a protest or give a homeless person a dollar or defend POC from your racist uncle at the neighborhood barbecue.

I don't think we as an internet "society" really understand the mental toll it can take on someone to be called things like fatphobic, ableist, and transphobic -- particularly when, in my case, I am fat, disabled, and trans. of course, being a member of a group doesn't absolve you from bigotry against that group. however, when these accusations are leveled based entirely on someone's body of work and not on their actual character, it makes us far less likely to create works, what with the likelihood that they'll continue to be looked at in bad faith by those who have some sort of weird moral high ground point to prove.

I really didn't want to have to post about this and bring the people who like my work down, but I think you guys are owed an explanation rather than silence. not sure if I'll post anything after this, because I'm really too old to be engaging in internet slapfights over torture porn movie fanfics, of all things (I guess I really spoke too soon when I called this fandom nice, drama-free, and welcoming). if my ask box gets too messy, I'll turn it off. idk. just wanted you guys to know where I've gone.

now stop telling everyone I'm dead

[beesmygod]

today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 1: pre-gaming

webcomic day is a yearly celebration of the art form concocted by the screentones podcast team as a way for people to see how the sausage gets made. my webcomic "a ghost story" has been running for over 10 years, and yet i still don't think i can say i am good at making a webcomic. regardless, the comic is getting made because otherwise i become very, very sick in the head. today i would like to share with you the process of making a page of "A Ghost Story" from start to finish. either this demystifies the process or will make you think im so cool and strong for doing this 2x a week. instead of reblogging this one post until it gets very long, i will be posting individual updates that i will then compile and post on my personal website. block the tags now if you HATE comics and want them to EXPLODE.

if you have any questions, even things like "what the fuck are you even talking about" feel free to ask. i want to feel confident in what i make again and i think sometimes interrogation from an outside source is really

---

that said, let's get started. wait just kidding i want a cup of coffee first, hold on.

ok now im ready. i have a big glass of water. i have coffee. i have a headset for the parts of work that don't involve typing words. i can't type words and listen to some streamer babble in my ear at the same time, so it has to be instrumental music or nothing. i just took my meds so they should kick in after about 30 mins. i woke up late today, which is weird and annoying. but maybe i can work late instead.

first off, i need to know where i'm going beyond this one page. if i dont know where im going with something, then i usually create something that sucks that i have to deal with later. hold on my internet died, i have to reset the router. ok, anyway.

what's rattling around in my brain is that not only do i have to deal with maxine's current predicament, i am also dealing with multiple plot elements i need to wrap back around to from the previous chapter. luckily, im about to put maxine down for a nap, which means i can get back to those other elements:

i need to finish the exposition from the three ankou characters for this story arc establishing their motivations as the oppositional force in the story. the "villain" is not these three specifically, but their boss. they need to have a loose understanding of what's going on in order to communicate this to the audience. god this started turning into a huge ass paragraph so i'll just keep it short there.

we've jumped back to before jack's horrible day from the first chapter of this storyline so we have to make our way back toward that and then lapping it, which means wrapping up his various open threads like:

feeding victoria and learning something new about her

finding out alice is a very exceptional employee who is getting many awards

watching valdo call lily while interrupting her during something personal to ask her for help with maxine's situation.

jack meeting with valdo and lily the day after they first met so jack can just tell them straight up that lily has 4 sisters she doesnt know about.

help that girl with her poltergeist problem. remember that. i've had jokes for this rattling in my head for like 4 years. im going insane.

and also the fucking tilberi!!! that has a point its going somewhere!!! there's a larger menace here!!!

other things to set up the climax of this storyline. sexual tensions, hints at larger emotional problems not immediately evident to the reader

lots of moving parts. and i feel like im moving in slow motion to get to them. i can see them all weaving together in my head, its the process of putting that onto paper that's proving difficult.

ok that took an hour starting and stopping. -_- let me write the next part as i keep brainstorming on how to approach this page. taking a "rubber duck" approach to this might help. heres an image from the last page i worked on (i have a 5 page buffer rn so the site does not match the finished pages) to get us semi-situated.

also because images will help people understand what skill level we're working with here. i need to be able to communicate an idea to the audience; if the art also looks good on top of that, then that's just an added bonus. but the ability to communicate my ideas is sometimes hampered by my lack of artistic skill or comics language ineptitude. like those speech bubbles kind of fucking suck but at a certain point you have to just hit print on what you're working on in order to keep your already glacial pace.

webcomics is a tightrope act where you're also spinning 4 plates at once. the trick is to keep the audience from realizing how many actually fall or how wobbly they all are. the act sucks but technically its not a failure.

[rokishimizu4]

Constantine is done, but so is Tim

(This happened a bit before Alfred’s and Jason’s headcanons)

*”And I’m tell you that I would know if it was something supernatural. Even Alfred checked you out and nothing was wrong.” John grumbles as he closes his occult book and his hands stops glowing as Tim puts back on his shirt.

*Cue very unhappy Red Robin noises as he reaches over and grabs a huge mug of steaming hot coffee, and drowns it.

*John simply rolls his eyes and wonders why he agreed to babysit the bedridden Robin, but remembers the look of stress in Bruce’s eyes as he asks for help.

*”Fine, you spoiled little brat, let’s get going.” He grumbles as he helps Tim up off of the bed and follows him out of the Batcave and back to the building in question. (While also sending a quick update to the rest of the Bat family)

*Cue a very long, and awkward, walk to the abandoned warehouse, still covered in yellow police tape and the floor covered in dried and old blood.

*Splitting up, while not the best idea, did help Tim remember where he was originally meant to enter from. Which was covered in claw marks (deep into the brick and steel surrounding the high window a good 40 feet up) and a black slime that smells faintly of what he thinks stardust would smell like.

*While Tim, dressed in civilian clothes-trying to blend in, is checking it out, he hears John yelping and cursing in ancient Latin through the steel and brick walls.

*Tim scrambles towards the hole in the wall, and finds Constantine trying to dodge some type of sheep with wings, colored in blues and pinks, that was firing some type of dust at him.

*The sheep, or ram or something, seems to notice him as well and begins to speak in English….

*”Great, another two bit magician who can’t keep his nose to himself.” It huffs as it dodges yet another blast of magic. Before it simply begins to grow and change, spreading dust around itself.

*”Am I high or still asleep?” Tim yelps as he takes cover under a overturned table and covers his nose and mouth with the thick material of his jacket, as it was slowly turning cold, but the creature jumps John before he could return the favor.

*”Get off of me, you sheep whore!” John curses as he scrambles to get his trench coat off of him, as it was being covered in the strange dust, but gets a heeled kick in his stomach in return.

*Tim peeks over to find some type of demon standing over John’s groaning form. Horns like a sheep, or Ram he would have to look it up later if he remembers, and its hair twisted in blues and pinks.

*The clothing, if you can call it that, barely covered anything and he could clearly see that it had black, leather, wings and a long pointed tail.

*The demon jumps off of John and looks over at Tim, giving him a very confused look. Before it gives a clap and floats, flies?, over to him.

*”Little Sleeper will be so happy to see you up and about! They were so worried that they somehow killed you!”

*Cue slow realization that this demon thing, whatever, knew who he was and that it knew that he got his ass kicked by accident! Cue Tim trying to play it off, but him getting a disappointed look from the demon and a choked off chuckle from John.

*”Can’t lie to a demon, sweet little thing. But I like that you have the balls to try. However, I’m not here on a social call, so please drag this sorry excuse of a human being back to your little fancy house and leave the bad guys to us, yes?”

*The demon gives Tim a creepy smile before simply disappearing in a cloud of dust, that strangely smells of peppermint and spiced cider.

*The two men agree to never speak about the incident again, at least until they both get enough coffee in them to properly process what they just experienced.

*Also, cue Tim blaming it on the drugs in his system, which he has none of btw, and goes back to bed.