adateur - Tumblr blog

[adateur]

finally got my fucking pc back after sending it off shortly after i graduated to get some upgrades for the games i'm running and the guy had a hard time ordering the parts. good news is i had time to deep dive into c.yberpunk and play the game on console while i waited and now i have serious brainrot. and i haven't even started p.hantom liberty because i'm moving all my data over to pc...so i can FINALLY fucking mod. tldr; i fucking caved and you can find me on @engrm despite me still needing to put rules up and make some final touches.

[adateur]

SOFT ANGST STARTERS.

‘stay for me.’

‘what’s this between us?’

‘i don’t want your apology.’

‘you know i have feelings for you.’

‘yeah, i remember the drill.’

‘you’ve never hurt me. ever.’

‘then leave her/him/them. at home.’

‘i don’t believe it.’

‘this is breaking my heart.’

‘you met me at a very strange time in my life.’

‘what keeps you up at night?’

‘i wish you were here.’

‘i let you down.’

‘something strange happened here.’

‘you’re not safe here.’

‘i wasn’t ready to say goodbye.’

‘we are not the same, and never will be.’

‘don’t touch me.’

‘is it my fault?’

‘i’m not like them.’

‘i forgot my name again.’

‘i don’t know who i am.’

‘your fear of looking stupid is holding you back.’

‘are you still alive?’

‘i don’t like being told what to do.’

‘am i making you uncomfortable?’

‘nobody cares if you don’t go to the party.’

‘it was supposed to be fun, and you ruined it.’

‘where the hell are my friends?’

‘stop pretending life doesn’t terrify you.’

[adateur]

LEON KENNEDY / RESIDENT EVIL: DEATH ISLAND (2023)

[adateur]

THE SMILE IS ACTUALLY returned for once despite the fact the topic is slowly rolling around to the whole fucked up incident that happened with the narwhals. before dimitri can even comment, the announcer mentions that unlike with the narwhals, the iguanas will be saved, which really does explain why the so-called monthly updates and newsletters stopped coming to his apartment. "huh," his face falls flat and he cocks his head to one side. "you know, i almost didn't come to this shit because i didn't feel like sinking eddies into a lost cause, but at least now I have an answer about narnar. little guy probably never even saw the sea.." something about that actually hurts moreau and he has to take a deep breath, turning his attention back to the woman who first introduced him to the damn events in the first place. a common hobby shared, something in common that dimitri doesn't want to fuck up tonight. "anyway, how have you been?"

Alongside the well-dressed crowd, the director offers a perfunctory series of soft claps. Despite a calm demeanor ( and tiredness lining her eyes ), the speaker’s words easily engage her somehow still hopeful heartstrings. At least Night City is trying to do its bid for the environment, but how she dislikes thinking these events have become somewhat of an unsubstantiated chore — and that Agent Moreau might actually be correct in his opinions for once. Eyes corner at her former security guard, who hasn’t changed one bit — still brashly offering his opinion despite himself. 

“I suppose you could make a phone call to the charity and ask.” The answer is offered with a pleasant enough smile and a small lift of one shoulder. “Or surely, the newsletters must mention something about Narnar.” Messages likely filtered out of her inbox by her assistant. “But good on your memory. The story must have gotten to you.”

[adateur]

THE  CLASSIC  ROMANCE  OF  A  GOOD  RAINSTORM . ( not accepting. )

@shctsfired said: " jesus christ! that lightning shook the whole house."

LIPS INSTINCTIVELY PULL BACK into a fanged smile at the sudden outburst that accompanied the thunder and lightning from harper, a low chuckle soon joining the pelting raindrops against the outside glass once all had settled. it's not the first time she's done something mundane that actually elicits a human response, but this has to be damn near the funniest --- would she ever get used to the mood swings mother nature tossed in their direction? "you should see your face right now," he says between snickers before it slowly dies and his expression becomes rather conflicted. an internal battle --- a morbid thought about her looking like prey accompanied by the slight scent of fear makes his mouth water and blood boil. and like torture, as the scene plays out in his mind, it's now the hunter who should see his own face.

[adateur]

valheri​:

         𝐕 cinches rusted metal bar of handrail under her fingers & watches the backdrop. the distant carrier container zipping expertly between the distant skyscrapers that reflect the evening skies like hundreds of mirrors, past moving advertisements honeycombing the city center & the smell of smoggy, metropolitan air & set her jaw. (she sees LED’s in the dark, streets busy with citygoers, & it feels like a world of dull paper settings. they were beautiful, but they didn’t matter. as the headaches & terminal symptoms become more frequent, the world didn’t much matter as did the monsters in it.)

a taut silence. so much so, she’s able to pick up on even the softest sounds of a hushed exhale of fabric shifting. & dimitri, the constant complication that falls in & out of her orbit without reprieve. something about the tone he takes this time makes the palm of her organic hand itch. dead. dying. she’s schrödinger’s cat whose lid hasn’t quite been flipped. dead woman walking with a nasty assimilation protocol wreaking havoc in her neurocytes. (the old machine’s method can easily annihilate the engram but the host——of flesh & bone——is not equipped to survive such thing & she would very much so like to keep it in tact!) she shifts weight to one leg, then to the other. a twinge of alarm in it all. shoots him a look, this time devoid of all derision or feigned contempt. momentarily flushed with preoccupation on a deeply humanizing level.

& with a finality, she pushes off of the railing completely & grasps herself, folding arms beneath chest. (an effective self-soothing tactic she picked up over the years from studying various specimen!) then, shakes her head with muttered ’uh-uh’.

❛ not yet, ❜ comes her voice, reinforcing herself once more. takes a step forward, then two more & does an about-face to take two more back, from one side to the other in his line of sight like a pendulum, ❛ who told you that? ❜

in the briefest moments of their eyes connecting, he catches sight of her own expression and immediately he winces as if someone shoved a tanto into his chest. oh, don’t look at me like that. a thought that sift through his mind even if his gaze fall downwards. there should be more relief that combs through the dreaded knots he’s had for MONTHS -- a sigh, a breath, dimitri should be able to react with his casual display. he need to, or so he’s programmed himself to behave. whenever conversations and situations took a plummet into vulnerability, he’s always been able to DEFLECT by pretending none of it mattered.

that SHE didn’t fucking matter. she’ll be dead sooner or later, so why give two shits ? distance was a blessing they both cherished, never being in each other’s presence for TOO DAMN LONG because they were not friends. they were mere enemies by the laws of night city, both dodging death and demise each ticking second. that bitch is dead ! another thought that drags a shaky exhale pass his lips, a voice this time not his own ringing in his head. rumors never had any leverage over him until now. a militech mongrel BULLSHITTING an arasaka panther long enough to make him falter. it was also enough for him to damn near lose himself.

she moves, he does not. listens to the sound of her voice resonate with clarity before she begins to swing in time with an old grandfather clock. tick, tock -- he knows she’s curious and want the deets. “i took care of it.” another soft-spoken reply, exhaustion and caution blending into one. trigger finger twitches subconsciously and he stiffens, goes RIGID in a matter of seconds.

brows slowly meet but he’s not SCOWLING like usual. something is eating away at his very psyche and no matter how hard he tries to snap back to the casual display, moreau still looks shaken up. unnerved and jittery. 

[adateur]

how i look trying to navigate through this new ugly dashboard just to find a single reply and not accidentally go live instead.

[adateur]

please save the iguanas ! an explosion of applause finally cuts through the brief moments of silence whenever the presenter pauses to take a breath. it was an interesting speech, one that the agent hadn't expected about nearly extinct lizards and the combination of all the eddies poured into their cause. "are you sure every 'ennie goes towards actually helping these poor animals ? it feels like we attend these same events EVERY YEAR and they say the same thing," he drawls out, arms now folding tightly across his chest. "...at least SHOW the people progress." will he ever admit he's a huge animal lover ? not aloud, but each event has one grumpy moreau displeased in the lack of proof. "i-- we still don't know if narnar ever found a good home from that nations narwhal charity. and WE donated a lot."

@prvtocol | starter

[adateur]

not me trying to finally immerse in cp.77 before the dlc drops & having to mentally fight the urge to write an asshole ?? i have written enough mean mfs ?? it's time to stop ??

[adateur]

no matter how long he may be gone, it is an unspoken rule that moreau must seek out his PINK CATASTROPHE of night city before doing anything else. there's plenty of other tasks he should be handling upon returning such as paperwork and meetings to attend at arasaka tower, but detours are made because this time is different. new rumors has sent the man into a quiet panic, tensions rising more when it takes several days to track her down. even so, a secluded balcony eventually awaits REUNION and dimitri find himself standing beside her familiar form in silence, words failing him in the moment. "i thought you were dead." a whispered murmur, barely rising over cars honking down on the streets below.

@valheri | starter.

[adateur]

                                 ———- no,                i’d rather  pretend  i’m something                better than these   broken   parts                                    pretend i’m something other                                     than this   MESS   that i am

[adateur]

💥 💥 💥 🔫(・｀ヘ´・；)

[adateur]

gonna be pumping out replies sporadically since my capstone classes are almost done. it's 2023 and i haven't done anything except lurk SGDHDHDBS don't look at me. i'll reblog memes and do a starter call once i finish drafts that are 36475754884 years old.

[adateur]

shctsfired​:

@adateur​​ continued from x

“What?” As soon as his glare narrowed in on her, she couldn’t help but chuckle nervously as her gaze fell toward the pavement. If she were being completely honest, she knew he was probably right but she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. After all, he knew the Quarter like the back of his hand. But being the stubborn brat she was, she wasn’t backing down.

As the pair continued their journey, the blonde grew rather uncomfortable as he decided to take the path across the street but managed to keep in step with her. She rolled her shoulder, gripping her firearm tighter as she attempted to ignore his games but it wasn’t working in her favor. She wasn’t sure if he was simply sticking to the other side of the street for cover if it did start raining or if he had something else in mind. Before she could snap and groan for him to stop, a rather large gust of wind stopped her in her tracks. As the sky began to grow darker and Harper couldn’t resist the urge to shift her gaze upwards; she knew she was wrong. Fuck, he’s gonna kill me. 

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked across the street, it was no surprise he was already staring at her. She attempted to send an apologetic look his way but it quickly contorted to shock when he came barreling toward her. Before she has the chance to react, she’s already pressed securely against his chest as he takes cover, the two of them narrowly escaping the downpour outside.

She attempts to apologize once again, but as soon as she realizes she’s trapped within his arms, she can’t help but gulp as her face heats up. Most would be fearful to be in this situation with a hunter like him, in all honestly, she should be fearful too… but after everything, she trusts him. Even if it is a stupid decision on her part. “Shut up.” She mumbles, shoulders slowly easing as she locks eyes with him. “You’re a bigger asshole than me for toying with me like that.” She scrunches her nose playfully. “I guess it was time to take a break anyways.”

in moments like these, the hunter would usually recoil back from the close proximity and make sure to keep a safe distance. whether or not he felt dangerous in that moment, it was a safety precaution he VOWED to keep when around harper. the last thing he needed was for the virus to get tempted by the potential need to feed and ruin what trust they’ve established. but right now felt different --- like humanity coming back tenfold, strong enough to numb the constant pain felt from the infection. her cheeks heat, his pupils dilate. “uh huh,” he breathes out, “i like to PLAY with my food, haven’t you heard?” a bit of morbid humor from him but when was dimitri not referencing the very affliction cursing him in the most MORBID of manner?

despite the pouring rain and cramped ass room, the hunter hasn’t bothered to pull away. “a break, huh... i wonder what made you come to that conclusion.” he has the audacity to lean in closer, low rumble finding comfort in his chest as a near PURR almost escapes. there’s that devilish glint  ---  one which comes forth when he’s got something up his sleeve when he finds himself in such a humanly playful situation with harper. “tell me, METEOROLOGIST GRACE , why is NOW such a great time for a breaky-break? we’re missing out on such lovely weather outside.” thunder claps, as if taking his side in wanting to know the same thing.

[adateur]

THE  CLASSIC  ROMANCE  OF  A  GOOD  RAINSTORM . ( not accepting. )

@shctsfired​ said: [ SAVE ]

it’s not going to rain, d. you’re just paranoid because you hate getting wet. the hunter’s head had snapped in harper’s direction and he’d done nothing but glared for a good damn three minutes, gaze burying itself into the back of her skull until he got tired and moved on to the next thing -- the fucking sky. now, it’s not like dimitri hated the rain, no, he  LOATHED  it with an undying passion. he’d learned to notice the smallest shift in the air, how the wind smelt, and the disappearing sun which was sinking further back behind a thickening cloud. but because blue skies bled through on one side, the duo didn’t stop to have a debate. not yet, at least.

another meander through courtyards and a labyrinth quarter which rivals the streets of paris herself, what was once left of blue skies had become  SULLEN  and sulked behind the darkening storm clouds. usually dimitri would take shelter beforehand, or offer a heads up to harper so she wouldn’t be a soaked mess by the time they settled down. but this time, the hunter does nothing but observe. practically stalks alongside harper from the opposite sidewalk. would she notice the change? was she choosing to not notice because it would mean he was right all along? a tree’s limbs wave happily, rejoiced by the sweet and sour wind caressing through. he counts the seconds as harper’s awareness plays out and when they make eye contact for the briefest of moments, the first raindrop crashes atop a tipped over mailbox. thunder rumbles in the distance, cracks open an angry storm cloud like an egg.

he can see the look of  HORROR  on her face when he suddenly lunges from across the street like a startled cat, closing the distance between them in what felt like seconds. his intentions are clear once he makes physical contact to sweep the woman off her feet and into the safety of his arms. sometimes the hunter surprises himself with how gentle and swift he could truly be when he wasn’t tearing someone asunder. once inside a small, horribly cramped backroom to some diner, dimitri places harper down on the ground, but not without keeping her pinned to the wall, caged in by his arms. “you know, you’d make a SHITTY meteorologist.“ lips curve, amusement well evident for the first time in forever.

[adateur]

when that tasty-looking morsel out yonder turns out to be made of plastic

[adateur]

hi, i'm not dead . . . but my laptop is after seven long and frustrating years lol. however, i plan on getting another one very soon and when i do, expect to see me make a swift return!