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sashi-ya · 1 month ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT ⚠️

A DIFFERENT TYPE OF FREEDOM 🍼 SHANKS X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 18: SLAVE/MASTER

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. For ur kinktober list, Day 18: slave/master kink for Shanks if ur still taking requests? Fem reader and for kinks I guess corruption kink (inexperienced fem reader) and whatever kinks u think are right! I think shanks wouldn’t actually own slaves but the red haired pirates would probably rescue one (reader) from being sold and role playing with Shanks would be healing for her in a way? ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. master! shanks, he frees reader from the CD. Slave reader. corruption kink. she is not exactly a virgin, but has little to non exp. oral. vag. 🐙 wc: 1.2k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

There’s always a hidden side on each and every person; charismatic, funny, laid back… even to some, a father figure.

To you, those red locks you only see at night, represent a much more different thing… freedom? Maybe…

“Goodnight, Master” you whisper, always looking down. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Bring me some sake, please” Shanks commands, laying down an old -pretty used- sofa.

He is not remotely clean, nor does he plans to shower. The red-haired man only wants to lay and do nothing after a pretty long day.

As you try to pour the alcoholic liquid on a tiny jar, he snatches the bottle from you.

“The whole bottle might be a more accurate glass”

You nod, watching him engulf the sake with no manners whatsoever. Shanks looks stressed, tired… something must have affected him after visiting Marie Joise.

“Do you need anything else, Sir?” you ask, fidgeting your fingers while you try to ignore how hot his masculine unmannered actions are to you.

“You know (Name) how much you cost me?” he asks, looking at you from the side as he battles for the last drop to fall from the bottle into his tongue.

You shake your head, yet you are sure you weren’t expensive… Tenryuubitos consider your lives as mere trinkets.

“Well, you are lucky to be so unaware… you cost me a large amount of berries and not only that, be thankful it was me who took you from Saint Rosward…” he mutters.

A sudden feeling of guilt and devotion sprouts on your insides, causing your knees and palms to hit the ground.

“I’m so sorry, Master Shanks! I’m grateful for life!! I don’t have wealth nor anything but my body to repay you. You can use me for anything you wish!” you scream, hitting your forehead against the wooden floor of an old, shitty cabin on Sabaody.

Shanks stands up; those words sounded a little too much.. however, his twitching crotch stops him… “you can use my body” she said? Well…

“I… You really want to become my slave?” Shanks asks, with a smirk that’s so dark that it is even darker than the Celestial Dragon’s.

You nod, weary. An inexperienced young woman like you still can’t see the consequences of accepting such deal… “Yes, Master Shanks. I know you will be a lot more merciful than any of those bastards”

But are you completely sure?

“Very well, come here then… do you know how to use your mouth, (Name)?” he asks, flopping back into the couch, patting his lap right after.

“I… yes… I’m not an expert, but I’ll do my best to please you, sir” you answer, crawling on all fours towards him.

“Don’t worry, I am in fact a lot more interested in having a sweet innocent girl all for me…” he whispers, brushing your hair back before getting his sex closer to your lips.

You are told to stick your tongue out first, allowing drops of precum to garnish it.

Shanks sighs loudly when you look up at him with puppy eyes and your mouth full of his arousal liquids; his toes curl… why corrupting someone who has already been corrupted in many other ways, feels -and looks- so delicious?

It takes almost all of his Haki to stop himself not to bury his dick inside your throat almost immediately; Shanks fights the need to break you, mercilessly… however, you make it so difficult for him.

You let your blouse of exposed shoulders to fall down your chest. Showing off turgor and anticipation, your breasts exposed, close to his sex, ready to engulf his shaft in between the two of them.

“That’s… good, babe” Shanks grunts, pleased. His dick slides in between your tits, while he encourages you to press them around it and start moving up and down.

He brushes your hair back, enjoying the look on your face with your tongue out. Shanks hips accompany your ups and downs, going faster and rougher. It is until he begins to spasm more frequently that he cannot control himself no more.

Pushing you back, softly but enough to move your body, you fall down. Covering your head with your arms, you try to protect yourself as an instinctive reaction to your traumatic past.

“No, I won’t hurt you… come here” he exclaims, with pity tinting his words but lust blurring his judgment.

As you stand up, he turns you around and pins you against an old table. The cracking sound might tell it won’t resist much weight but none of you care.

Shanks hand lifts the skirt of your dress, finding your non-existent panties covering your sex. He is surprised as intrigued as to why you have no underwear on… however doubts must be cleared once he is over with you…

“Lift a leg up for me, babe” he orders.

You comply; left leg up, knee on the side on top of the table.

“Good girl, please keep it up as you are pretty tight still… ugh, tight and wet…” Shanks trembles, his words make you and him extra horny.

Shanks isn’t able to take time to prepare your entrance, he just wants to fuck you; just a little bit of your honeys rubbed against his tip will be enough to slide right in.

“Have you ever been fucked this way, (Name)? he asks in your ear, as your insides engulf his sex with tightness and eagerness.

“N-no… master Shanks… I- have barely been touched and penetrated, let alone used in such lewd position” you purr, enjoying the manly scent of his sun kissed skin.

“My sweet innocent slave, I’ve made such a great choice to make you mine… I’ll corrupt you until you are nothing but my perfect little fleshlight” he moans while his hips begin to ram in and out of you so hard. Slapping thighs against ass as the rhythm increases and you become more and more weak for his sex…

Your nails carve marks on that wooden table, your nape becomes sore as he keeps biting on it, sweating on it the more he fucks you… your new life has taken a very interesting turn, freedom and at what cost?

For sure you have won; Ah, what a pleasure it is to become Akagami no Shank’s slave.

Taglist of amazing babes: @terrabear2003 @eyes-ofhell @cokou @seoul-is-a-dream @tinydonkeysforlife @appalost @themessedupsonata @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919

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afra-blueraz · 1 year ago

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🦋 Admin analysis:

Can vampires love someone else other than Yui? (Did they fall in love with someone before Yui? Can they fall in love with someone else after Yui?)

Well, first, I will give the shortest possible answer to this question. No, they can't fall in love with anyone after Yui, or there was no one they loved before Yui.

But first, let me give you a reason for my answer. First, let's examine the question further.

Can they fall in love with another person after Yui? Well, the answer to this question is simply no. But why? Let me remind you that vampires fall in love only once and this is a statement made by themselves and even proven by themselves, but how? Remember when Yui died they lost their mental health due to the tragedy and vampires went crazy and decided to join her after death by committing suicide. This simply shows their loyalty to their lover, but let's mention some proofs.

One of the simplest examples is daylight CD, which almost 90% of the boys decided to join her after Yui's death.

Bad endings in many games where when Yui dies they join her by committing suicide.

All these examples show that they don't even give themselves a chance to live after Yui, so they simply don't want to love anyone after her. So they can never fall in love with anyone else after Yui.

Translation: /@dialovers-translations

Was there someone they were in love with before Yui? Well, the answer to this question is no. Why? The answer is completely evident in the previous answer. If they had real and pure love for someone before Yui, they would have had a mental problem with their death or losing them and decided to commit suicide again. If their love for a person is real, they see the world as empty and meaningless without their beloved, and they have no motivation to continue living, especially vampires who have eternal life and death is simple to them. So if they are alive now, it's because they never had romantic feelings for anyone before Yui.

But what about Laito and Ruki? Was it shown in the game that they had a girlfriend? What do you think? I don't call Laito and Ruki's former relationship love since both of them admitted that those girls were just prey and nothing more. Both Ruki and Laito have only used the blood of those girls.

But not all diaboys are virgins. So it means they have experienced sex. The answer to this question is simpler. Because you don't have to be in love with someone for sex. Sex is only to satisfy sexual needs.

How about the Mukamis? Those who have never been vampires for all their life to fall in love just once like vampires. Yes, Mukamis were not vampires. But they became vampires when they were children, and their childhood was not an age where they could understand love like an adult. So this means that Mukamis have not fallen in love even when they were human.

Does this mean vampires never fall in love? No, this is completely wrong. Vampires can fall in love, but the past and experience that these boys have had, especially in relation to women, makes them not know how to fall in love. This is why they have never been in love before Yui. It may be bitter for some to accept this fact, but the main point is that they only fall in love once and loyalty to their lover is something that is special about vampires, that's why they can't fall in love after Yui. Or they simply can't love anybody else other than Yui.

This analysis is by checking games and CDs. If you have any other opinion, I will be happy to share it with me.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yui komori #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #ruki mukami #kou mukami #yuma mukami #azusa mukami #carla tsukinami #shin tsukinami #kino sakamaki #diabolik lovers headcanons

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thelonelysoulhome · 5 months ago

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Doumeki is the first person ever to reach out his hand to Yashiro:

Part 4 (part 2)

(this time it's really the last part lol)

(Reminder to read the other parts before this one, if it's not already done, thank you)

(TW: suicide)

To go on, living a worn out life

Yashiro is done, so done with this shitty life, give him a break, the poor man is exhausted, living a life that never been his.

Would that be the answer to ALL of this suffering ? Wouldn't death put out this fire that been lighted inside of him since his childhood ? And that he never been able to put out, how could he do it alone, all alone. Letting it consume him till this very day.

(After he been shot, Y talks with kage in the hospital in chapter 10.5)

"Dont they say 'My whole life flashed before my eyes?' in my case, not a single good thing popped up though"

(He is awareee💔)

"But there have been some good things, you know? One or two... Or three" And Bam! D pop up in Y's mind, because D is one of the few or even the only good thing that happened to Y.

He comes in his life without warning and give him so much in such a short period of time, dismanteling so many hard belief he have, but it's too much for him, he doesn't have the time to proceed any of it, he just got out of the hospital that he already is in danger of death, again. And he knows it, he rushes straight into it.. Into his death, his only escape ?

Yashiro is tired, so tired of this worn out life, he is so over any kind of hope, he don't believe in himself and there are very few things you can do for someone that threw themself first.

Let me... Let me put an end to it..I'm tired, I'm tired of thinking, I'm tired of living, Ah.. I never lived, I just always survived, it's enough... Let me rest.

And that when Doumeki appear again:

Even if he been shot by Y just a few hours ago, sensing the danger Yashiro is in, he runs towards his side, he don't let go, he don't let him, he doesn't let Yashiro's hand fall, he tries desperatly to reach it again.

It is precisely because he is at the bottom of the abyss that he must reach out to him, he needs even more help. Even if this one person pushes him away, now that he knows, he can't ignore what's inside him anymore.

He don't want to let him face it all alone, not anymore.

If Yashiro doesn't have enough straight to fight anymore, Doumeki wants to fight for him, if Yashiro is not attached to his life anymore, Doumeki would be attached to it instead, until he finds a taste for life again.

He want's to also carry the burden, even if it only gives him a tiny bit of relief, he want's Yashiro to rely on him, and to share the burden of all those years with him.

Yes, Doumeki saved you my dear ❤‍🩹

Indeed without Doumeki, Yashiro would be dead.

He searched for him and he saved him from a death that would end a life he did not really live.

Doumeki saved Yashiro's life but not only that, he also saved him from the coldness of being ignored.

Even if it's really hard for Y, and that he is not ready for it yet, maybe not even realising yet, that he always deeply, truly, wanted someone to notice, someone to see, to see him, the litlle boy, stuck in the dark of this closet.

Even near of his one death, all of Doumeki's thoughs are going toward Yashiro (in the cd drama we can clearly hear him pant a "kashira.." out).

He is so devouted, so persistent cause he knows, he saw Yashiro for who he is, and he love him unconditionally. Those fragmants of the real Yashiro are enough for him to want to stay.

He is ready to do anything for him.

He is ready to overcome everything for Yashiro.

But it's without counting that, Yashiro is not ready.. Not ready to accept all of this.

(Seing Doumeki's face here fucking hurt..)

It's only here that he perceive a glimpse of Yashiro's trauma, cause even if D sees Y for who he is, he in reality have very few index and understanding of the causes and how far and deep Y's suffering goes.

And he at this moment realise that even with all the best intentions in the world, certain things can't be resolved.

We don't really know what conclusions D does of all of this, but there is one that I am sure that he did:

Doumeki understand that even though all he want is to love him

That will only hurt Yashiro.

He "give up's", he makes up his mind the moment he understand that he is shatering Yashiro, and that sadly, without Y's will he can't do anything about it.

He is at a dead end, and he quickly understands that he is obligated to make a very difficult decision.

(OMG that hurt so baad...cryinggg❤‍🩹)

The two of them have taken all their courage to let each other go.

Yashiro let go Doumeki, his only light, the only hope he ever had, to protect Doumeki (and himself) from further harm, the yakuza world is indeed dangerous and Y don't want D to be in any danger, especially not because of him. D still have his family: his mom, his sister Aoi, he still have a home, Yashiro doesn't have to be part of it.

(To know that he is the one that called D's family when he was in the hospital..💔)

Seing Yashiro make (what he think to be) his last goodby to what could be his only light in the darkness is trully heart wrenching.

This encounter with Doumeki make such a big impact, and changements in Yashiro's life in such a small amount of time (2 or 3 monts at most) I believe they needed to pass trough all of that, it's being part of their journey, to let's hope, someday become each other support.

In the end of the day, they are only, unfairly, deeply, wounded human beings, with qualities and flaws, and we can already be thankfull that their path crossed.

They both need to work on themself so they can after try to find each other.

The path is still long, but I believe in them, I believe that there is still hope, that someday, they'll help each other to heal, to live.

End.

Thank you very much for reading ❤ See you soon.

#saezuru #saezuru analysis #saezuru tori wa habatakanai #twittering birds never fly #yashiro x doumeki

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guppybibi · 4 months ago

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hii !! can you do akito (shinonome) with a gf who’s OBSESSED with another group? i just thought of this and found it funny

he’s always like “why don’t we go to your place” and reader is like oh no it’s ok haha!! because it’s kind of embarrassing but there’s so much merch it’s impossible to take down

and one day he convinces you to let him stay over and boom. posters everywhere. cds everywhere. binders full of photocards. a whole shelf of albums just sitting there. don’t forget the dvds and polaroids! bonus points if you forgot to turn off your cd player when you answered the door so it’s blasting said group’s music as well 💀

( ++ doesn’t have to be any group in particular but i’m heavy in my enhypen phase right now, so maybe them? that’d make it even more nerdy but 😭 )

𖦹 pairing: Akito Shinonome x fem!reader

𖦹 content: Confused Akito, fluff, kpop stuff, idk..

𖦹 notes: aaaa i love this idea, tysm! for the group i chose enhypen as well but also stray kids because you can never stan too many groups ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ (i had the biggest stray kids phase lollzz, plus idk much abt enhypen:c sorrie) also wrote half of this at school wowie

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ

-Just..so confused?? He doesn't get the thing about collecting photo cards and the terms fans use so you have to explain it to him.

-Once he gets it though he's just mildly concerned, for your sanity and wallet. He does commend your dedication and loyalty to these groups though (silently hopes you do the same with him.)

-Occasionally asks you if VBS had merch would you buy some, his reaction would vary on your answer. -

-If you say no he’ll just say ‘uh huh’ and walk away. (pancakes are the solution, TRUST.) + he's just playing around, he isn't mad.

-If you say yes he’ll just smirk smugly and try to talk everyone into making merch. (he fails)

He’s so confused right now, he just doesn't get what's the big deal about it. The ginger knew you absolutely loved these so called K-POP groups and he didn't mind at all, not a tiny bit. To be fair, he was somewhat an idol as well. A street musician to be exact but that was close enough.

And today was another added episode to the collection of you not letting him go to your home, what exactly were you hiding from him? He stood before you, in all his glory, a skeptical look on his face. “C'mon doll..is yer room messy or somethin’? I’m sure it can't be that bad, trust me–I’ve seen worse.” He said in an attempt to reassure you, intently watching how your lips pressed into a thin line and your eyes darted across the park you two were at. “L..-look! A bunch of people are doing cool skating tricks!” You exclaim, pointing to a bunch of randos doing flips or whatever. Distracting him was worth the shot, no guarantees it’ll work though.

He almost facepalms himself when he hears your shitty attempt at diverting his attention elsewhere. “Doll I’m not the smartest but I'm not that dumb..” It was honestly offensive that you thought that would work..You couldn't keep hiding forever, you two wouldn't progress if you didn't allow him to do something so simple as coming into your home. And as he said, he's somewhat of an ‘idol’ as well so he probably wouldn't find it too weird. Yeah, think positive! He won't think you're some kind of koreaboo or anything!

“Right..I guess you could come over to my place. But on one condition..” She starts. “Don't find it weird..?” He chuckles in response, shaking his head. “No promises.”

And that's how he ended up in this rather strange position, sitting on your cozy bed as the posters on your walls stared down at him. “Wow..this is um..a lot.” His mouth formed a crooked smile, glancing at the shelf filled with albums. Where you got the money for all of this was a mystery to him. “So..who are they?” He asks, flopping back onto your bed, full of a bunch of stuffed animals. Your eyes start to sparkle, this was your time to shine, well rather to rant about your unhealthy obsession with these KPOP groups but let's not talk about that right now.

After your rather lengthy explanation about every basic thing he needs to know, the expression on his gruff face seems unreadable. Was he angry or somehow jealous about it? Or was he simply just not interested in it? That might've been the case, but not right now at least. “Mmh..alright.” He sounded way too casual about it for comfort if you’re being honest. But if he was held captive and needed to be honest, extra–I know, he found this..mildly concerning addiction of yours quite endearing. It’s not like it would cause problems along the way, unless you spent all of your money on merchandise and went broke but he has enough trust in you not to do that..don’t break that by buying some lightstick that costs more than your kidney.

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queenimmadolla · 8 months ago

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Idk if you’ve answered this or not but what are Penny, Wayne and Maples interest/special interest? Like was Penny into the 90’s/2000’s boy bands? Was Wayne into trains or dinosaurs or something real niche like garbage trucks and was I’m assuming Maple was born in the late 90’s was she into Hannah Montana or even metal music that you and Eddie cater to until they just decided one day it wasn’t cool anymore and moved on 😅

I want to thank you. Because you just reminded (I had to consult my timeline for this verse to answer it) that Penny was born in the late 80s, so she got to endure the late 90s and y2k as a teen. She would have been the same age as Lindsay Lohan and Hilary Duff when they feuded omg!!!! And with a famous dad?? She can interact with y2k royalty!

ANYWAYS, to answer your question, YES! She was a big fan girl of the Backstreet Boys as a preteen! Was begging her parents to go to concerts all the time, learned the choreography, she was obsessed and, as delusional as 10-13 year olds get over boy bands, she was proud of it. And DREAM. She’d love that girl band so much. As a teen, she loves most of the bands of the 2000s like Fall Out Boy, Green Day (they reached the height of their fame that really elevated them in the 2000s—thats not up for debate), Sum41, Evanescene, Linkin Park, Good Charlotte, Pussycat Dolls and she’s a fan of singers like Beyoncé, Britney Spears, Mariah Carey, etc. She doesn’t really like the pick-mes of the 2000s. Sorry, Avril.

Wayne didn’t have any real niche interests dinosaurs or trucks. By the time he could develop niche interests, Goosebumps was a thing, so i imagine him going the mystery/horror route. And because of watching and reading Goosebumps, he develops an interest in weirdly specific things just as the main characters of the show do. To make it short—whatever he watches he makes his whole personality for a good couple of months.

And you’re right about Maple being born in the late 90s! She was 100% a delusional fan girl too, LOVED The Jonas Brothers, Hannah Montana (but she loved Miley Cyrus more), fucking radio Disney, Jesse McCartney—oh my god, she was born around the same time as me so she’s going to go through so many horrible fashion and fan phases. The shrug, the skinny scarf, the weird layering of dresses over jeans. One Direction. God, Eddie has to endure a lot with her but if his babies are into something, then he encourages their enthusiasm, helps them indulge in it by buying them CDs and merch, goes to concerts with them—he’s a good fucking dad. Even if the two of you get whiplash with how often they switch up their interests. And lucky for you and Eddie, she’s a Beyoncé stan, so she exposes him to fantastic music just as he introduces her to the music he grew up liking in the 80s.

#$ replies #pennyverse #pennyverse asks #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #Waynie baby #maple 🍁

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rewatching-sam-and-dean · 2 years ago

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Why this Doesn’t Mean Destiel : Part 1 - Mixed Tape

I may make this a series. I may not. But I’m feeling annoyed by a certain side of fandom, so I’m going to take a look at moments (or things) that are claimed to totally make D and C cannon, and discuss why I disagree. If you like the ship, please just save yourself the annoyance and skip on past this post. If you read this anyway or are not a fan, and have anything to add, I welcome your thoughts.

THE TAPE:

First, and I can’t believe I have to say this, a mixed tape is not actually inherently romantic. Friends make mixes for each other all the time, or used to before you could just share playlists or whatever them kids are doing these days. For example, my friends have ripped me CDs because they had better internet, they gave me a mix for my birthday, we went on a road trip and they left me the mix, or just because. I have done many of these things for my friends in return. A missed-tape or CD is simply a way to share songs we like with people we care about, or even an acquaintance. Can it be romantic? Absolutely! Is it inherently so? No.

Why isn’t this particular tape romantic? Check the name: "Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx.” This looks, more than anything, like a tape Dean made for himself ("Dean's"). As in, "I really like these particular songs, so I’m going to put them on one tape, so I don’t have to keep changing tapes over on road trips." Also, note the "Zepp Traxx." This looks more to me like something a teenager would write because it looks "cool" than anything else. I mean, a Dean who is pushing 40 might write "Traxx" on a tape — maybe — but it doesn’t seem that likely. So, it’s more than likely this tape was made decades ago, for himself, thus not a romantically intended (or thought out) mixed-tape. There is nothing about the tape itself to indicate it was made for Cass or that it has any special meaning.

DEAN:

Can we be honest here for one minute, people? Can anyone — anyone who has actually watched the whole show rather than cherry picking certain people's scenes �� actually picture Dean Winchester, sitting down with an old boom box, lovingly, tenderly loading tapes into one side and recording onto a blank tape in the other side, thinking, "Sigh! These songs are so special to me because they make me think of my crush, Cass!" Or "I’m going to make Cass a tape of the most romantic Zeppelin songs I can to show him I care!"? If you answered "Yes" to that … this is not the blog for you. Also, I doubt that you know who the canon Dean Winchester is, as opposed to the fanon man-shapedr 14-year-old girl version from Tumblr or AO3. Dean doesn’t have time (or inclination) to sit down and make a mixed tape from scratch at this time in the show, especially when, you know, good luck finding a working tape recorder / cassette player / boom box that still works these days. The MOL bunker was frozen in time just a touch before tape cassettes were invented, so I doubt they have one hanging around the place. So, he went and bought something he could make a tape for Cass with? Really? I’m thinking not.

The most likely scenario for Dean giving Castiel a mixed tape? They are in the impala, maybe Sam is there sitting shotgun, maybe he isn’t. Cass starts talking about how he found merit in music Sam liked, or just some random music, and Dean says, "Come on Cass! That music is crap! Here, listen to this. This is the good stuff!" Then he rummages in his box of tapes one-handed, while driving, and tosses one to Cass. "Keep that one. I have a others," Dean adds. Then Cass says, "I’ll treasure it always, Dean!" No I’m kidding. Cass says, "Okay, Dean." He may or may not intend to actually listen to it at some point. After he finds a tape deck, of course.

So, does the mixed tape mean nothing? No, it’s still a nice gesture to give something you made to someone you care about. Do I think Dean put a lot of soecific thought into it, just for Cass? No. I think it’s actually similar to Sam letting Cass hang out in his room (presumable on his bed) watching Netflix on his TV, doing something nice for a friend and sharing media.

CASTIEL:

Even if Dean had sat sobbing over his mix for hours while he painstakingly crafted it just for Cass, it still wouldn’t equal Destiel. Why? Because Cass clearly didn’t appreciate it since he simply used it as an excuse to enter Dean's room and steal from him. Even if it was intended as an act of love, it was used as a tool for deception and betrayal. Thus, this does not support Destiel, rather it makes a case against it from Cass' POV.

THE WRITER INTENTIONS

Obviously, I can’t speak to these personally, but my thoughts on their possible thought process behind the mixed tape. First, they needed Cass to return something to Dean so he can get into his room, and it has to be something that was given as a nice gesture to heighten the betrayal. A tape makes sense because it’s not something so huge that it would be automatically given a ton of significance, but it also isn’t totally insignificant either. Second, Dean has a lot of tapes and he loves music, it’s very possible for him to give one to Cass off screen without the audience getting sidetracked and wondering why (how is he going to play it BTW? Go sit alone in one of the cars he’s stolen?). Third, do I think the writers were also throwing destiellers a bone? Probably, but throwing fans a bone does not equal queerbaiting because nothing else in Dean and Cass' relationship points to romance (and Dean is not into guys or Supernatural Beings). Throwing fans a small bone also doesn’t meant it’s leading to a romantic endgame. They do it with Wincest all the time, after all.

Overall, to me the purpose of the mixtape was to show Cass throwing something Dean gave him back in his face, so he could go behind his back for supernatural purposes. Again. If someone wants to read the tape as a romantic gift from Dean (it isn’t), that actually only makes what Cass uses it for worse. Thus, the tape does not support Dean and Cass romance.

And because I have to, this is a mixed tape (CD) with clear intent.

#supernatural #anti destiel #dean winchester #castiel critical #brief Smallville nod #Zepplin tape #my thoughts #SPN Meta #fandom wank

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foone · 2 years ago

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here's a question I'm not sure this is the best place to talk about:

if you were going to build a set of DOS/windows machines to play ALL PC GAMES, how many would you need?

Like, the boring answer is "ONE" but that's terrible and no, not really. Yes you can run DOSBox and such on a modern computer, but there's plenty of games in the hard-to-emulate era where they just won't run on a modern computer without a lot of patching and hacks and even then, maybe not.

So a slightly less boring answer is "TWO": One for the Hard To Emulate Era and one for NOW-GAMES. So like a 600mhz Pentium III with a Voodoo 3 and Windows 98, and a Modern Boring Machine. You play nearly everything on the modern one, including DOS games (using DOSBox and similar), but games that fit in the hard-to-emulate era, you play on the Old Machine.

BUT if you want to have a set of computers for most of the eras of PC gaming, you need more than that. Like if you were populating a museum of PC games. How many? I'm gonna say... FIVE. Maybe SIX.

An IBM XT. This is the best system for the earliest era of PC games: booters, early DOS games, anything without speed control (yes, there are turbo buttons, but they can only do so much). This is like an 8mhz with a 20mb hard drive, 640kb of ram, PC speaker only. You definitely need a joystick.

High-end 486/Pentium. This will play the rest of DOS games and nearly all Windows 3.1 games. 16mb of RAM is more than enough. A hard drive of about ~500mb (one of the first size limits), a soundblaster and maybe a GUS or MIDI device. You'll need a CD-ROM drive, for sure, even though most games won't need it.

Pentium II/III, or an AMD K6: Most early Windows games from the windows 9x era. You'll need a PCI sound card and a 3DFX card, probably a Voodoo 3 or above. You could go with an early nvidia like a geforce 2/3, but then you don't get GLIDE games. Something like 128mb of RAM, a couple gigs of hard drive, nearly all games will be CD-ROM so you want something FAST, and probably an old copy of Daemon Tools/CloneCD and a pile of no-CD cracks, because that will be NOISY.

Late single-core era: Pentium 4 or AMD Athlon 64. This is for the games that are relatively recent (2000s and onward) but have compatibility reasons that make them not run well on modern systems, because they don't handle multi-core systems, 64bit windows, or windowses newer than XP. So obviously this is going to run Windows XP, maybe tweaked Vista at a push, and it will 100% be the 32bit version. You're gonna have like 1-2 gigabytes of RAM, a few hundred gigabytes of hard drive space to a terabyte, and a video card like a GeForce 8-series or a Radeon HD 3000.

Boring modern machine. Fastest CPU/GPU, most RAM, biggest HD, etc that you can afford. Run Windows 10 or 11, it doesn't matter.

And the only reason I say "five or six" is because you might want to stuff another computer in, call it PC 3.5: Basically a fast Win9x machine, but this one uses an nvidia/ATI GPU instead of a 3DFX GPU. This'll be a machine for high-end Win9x/ME games that need more graphics power than a 3DFX card can manage, but don't work on an XP machine. I don't know for certain there are games in that area, but I wouldn't at all be surprised.

#ranting about PC tech

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hunterofdeer · 7 months ago

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Everyone, Finally, Knows That (Substack Link in Bio)

I didn’t foresee myself watching a 1986 porno in my living room today, but there have been stranger things. The adult film begins with humble opening credits, and then an eruption of thunderous clouds fills the screen. Zoom in. There is an almost imperceptible narration. Cut to a man getting into a car. Headlights flash, and a guitar riff overtakes the soundtrack. The tires screech even louder; he might want to get those checked.

We immediately jump to a scene where a woman is performing cunnilingus on another woman (Friend? Partner? Coworker?). A man, mustache and all, opens the door and chuckles, “You two are the horniest girls I’ve ever met!” I’m assuming this is something he regularly walks in on. More credits and driving sequences are dispersed throughout, along with bits of the usual porno exposition. There’s another plot with a couple in a car—the man kind of looks like Fred from Scooby-Doo. The two make out, but the poor guy jizzes his pants, much to blondie’s dismay. The woman, in particular, has a terrific sardonic delivery of “Yeah, call me.” Get her an Emmy! Primetime, of course.

Title card: Angels of Passion. The storyline is expectedly choppy, but it appears to go from threesome to car crash to threesome in heaven. (A surprisingly artistic low-angle shot had followed the trio walking about their incandescent surroundings in the nude. Yes, the carpets matched the drapes.) After more run-of-the-mill intercourse, a man in white emerges from a glowing ball and introduces himself as William. He’s aware of their confusion and assures them that they’re dead. “Oh, bummer,” says pornstache.

The cause of death was a drunk driver colliding with the motorhome where the trio had set up sex-shop. The following dialogue is achingly slow, but we get a minute-in-heaven-is-days-on-Earth spiel, setting up pornstache’s wristwatch to be Chekhov’s X-rated gun. Jesus Christ, I didn’t suspect a time-manipulation narrative. Then again, this was the 80s.

William says he’ll be gone for five minutes, and the trio wants to take their ménage à trois on tour before he gets back. To travel to Earth, all they had to do was snap their fingers like in the movies, as pornstache aptly puts it. They pull the shenanigans you’d think they’d pull, using their newfound angelic statuses to improve the sex lives of mortals, naturally including demonstrations. The character count expands: a sexually-latent secretary, a suicidal businessman, and even domestic fucking terrorists, emphasis on the fucking.

Now I realize I’ve spent a few too many paragraphs describing a porno, and I don’t think my mother would be very proud. But it is this video that contains the lewd answer to a musical mystery.

WatZatSong.com is a website where curious users submit song snippets, hoping someone can come along to identify them. In 2021, a user named Carl92 uploaded a 17-second scrap that could’ve been a backtrack to an 80s pop-fueled summer vacation. It was incredibly catchy and stirred up a cyber storm. How could something sound so familiar be unknown?

People dubbed the elusive audio as “Everyone Knows That” (EKT) or “Ulterior Motives” in accordance with the limited lyrics, which were still highly debated due to the muddied sound quality. Eventually, Carl92 stopped interacting on WatZatSong, and people perceived this to be a dead end.

In 2023, the audio was uploaded to YouTube, and the uploader used a picture of a glittery pink CD player, which tied this song to that iconic image. As more and more days passed by, this tune attracted a substantial and dedicated following. People were restricted to only 17 seconds of sound, and all they could see was the flash photo of a CD player, its round speakers like alien eyes.

The r/everyoneknowsthat subreddit now has more than 40,000 members, which is a higher population than Liechtenstein, if that example makes any sense to you. The subreddit was made to guide the search, and it is littered with memes, potential leads, and debunked cases. After u/One-Truth-5867 heard a similar song in a random clip on YouTube, they enlisted the help of u/south_pole_ball to search a catalog of vintage pornos. And then they found it.

At approximately 01:07:30 in Angels of Passion, you can begin to hear the synth-pop beat between breathy moans and grunts. Hilariously, the famous snippet occurred during the rare moment of silence between the actors, suggesting Carl92 had cut around the erotic noise to avoid any shameful admission of the music’s source. However, I can understand why Carl92 would be motivated to find this song. The classic steamy bedroom sex, with a bright-red Coca-Cola sign hanging on the wall, underscored by a peppy, libidinous track, puts you in the fantasy and keeps you wanting more.

At the end of the film, the once booming, gray clouds start to clear. The credits roll, and for the score, I see two names: Chris & Phi. The names, which I’m sure were shortened for discreetness, point to Christopher Saint Booth and Philip Adrian Booth, identical twin brothers who composed soundtracks for a variety of pornos. Currently, they produce, direct, and compose for seemingly low-rent horror films (as if horror films aren’t already low-rent enough). What they do, however, is not up to my judgement; if they are content, then I am, too. They clearly are talented enough to create such a craze around a song in a dated adult film, and I would be open to seeing more of what they have to offer.

I try to imagine myself in a 1980s fairytale, and I wonder what it would be like if I were some hunky actor who pursued pornography in that era’s energized, consumerist culture. This blue movie, while not necessarily great by any means, was interesting in the fact that it was determined to tell a story and entice the viewer into a make-believe of their base desires.

The reality of all this, as usual, doesn’t check out. Adult production studios, which are extremely male-dominated, obviously take advantage of pornstars. Shit wages, shit contracts, everything is shit—and I’m certain it was worse back then. Two of the actors in this film, Tracey Adams and Steve Drake, were involved in a court case where distributors Charles Brickman and Thomas Ingalls were accused of felony pandering in the production of sex tapes. I looked more into Tracey, and apparently vodka has become her sleep medicine. It’s a messy industry, to say the least.

This whole event is darkly humorous to me. “Everyone Knows That” mocked its obsessive, clueless audience with each replay. Ill-fated Carl92 has become infamously linked to whacking his willy to the song. The song, itself, is just some porno jingle meant to accentuate the carnality on screen. I saw a comment that speculated, in another universe, if the roles were reversed and Madonna’s “Material Girl” ended up being the fleeting ditty, later reduced to a few mere seconds for a community to investigate; and I wondered why people, myself included, lived in these nostalgic fever dreams.

#blog #humor #blogging #everyone knows that #movie #music #lost media #writing

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baby-girl-aaron-dessner · 7 months ago

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Just out of curiosity, given how critical you’re of Taylor Swift, do you boycott her financially? If not, then why? Is this a separating the art from the artist type of thing? Or is boycotting someone as popular as her achieves nothing so why bother? I understand people who are either in denial or ignorant about her to continue supporting her. But for people who see her for who she is, how can they still support her financially?

To answer your question, yes, I do financially boycott Taylor Swift as well as other artists whose music I love like Beyoncé. However, I do not boycott small/indie artists or artists like Hozier who are vocal on genocide and take part in social justice issues. For example, from the beginning of the Palestinian struggle, Aaron Dessner has supported the Palestinian cause, so I haven’t unfollowed him and I will continue to go to The National events.

In the last 10 years I have only bought one thing from Taylor Swift: concert tickets. Once for the 1989 tour and once for the Era’s tour. I have never bought merch or vinyls/cd’s either. Even when I wasn’t critical of her as a child, I was too poor to buy this stuff. For example, I remember when all my friends went to the Red tour, I had no money and my family was way too poor and unstable for me to ask my parents for concert tickets so I had no choice but to sit things like this out. I also forgot to mention that by the time 1989 came out, I saved up some cash and split the cost of a single CD that I shared with a friend.

I agree with you. Some people are able to seperate the art from the artist and I’ve tried doing this too. Taylor is an exception for me because she was the first western artist I was introduced to as really young child (during fearless). My father would download her music videos so that I could learn English 😭 So her music is extremely meaningful and nostalgic to me. This doesn’t mean I can’t apply my critical thinking skills and refrain from spending money on merch and things like that.

I will also point out that many die hard stans get upset with people like me because they only believe in two types of categories: Stan’s or unstans. They cannot conceptualise balance.

I do not believe that we have to either be led by blind fanaticism to like someone’s art or boycott them entirely if we chose to use our intellect.

I believe that we should apply critical thinking skills to all fields of life. This includes art. It is not difficult and helps us make better decisions. This does not diminish the love I have for a song like Cold As You because it will never cease to have nostalgic value for me.

Also, you’re right. Becoming disillusioned with celebrity worshipping and figures like Taylor is what prompted me to boycott her financially. I just can’t justify spending more than a ticket on her. And I feel bad about spending money on the ticket as it is.

#this turned into a long winded muddled reply I’m sorry anon #anonymous #taylor swift #taylorswift #celebrity worship #stan culture

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chemdisaster · 1 year ago

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another cd au fic about scar's childhood because i needed to vent and also i'm trying to figure out writing in past tense (how the hell do you people do this, it's so bloody difficult)

TW: physical abuse, general "dads being dicks" warning

It took Scar a long time to know courage.

Once, he asked a girl who knew more about living in a cage than he ever did, "What does freedom mean?"

And she replied, "Saying no when the only acceptable answer is yes."

And the boy who'd grown up avoiding storms by putting stones in his pockets and allowing the waves to drown him asked, "How?"

And she laughed and said, "Fuck them all."

Scar didn't understand, back then. He went back home, back to his room with the screams sewn into its walls, and listened to his mother's tears and thought, bravery is nothing but another black eye. It was the lesson he'd learnt before knowledge, after all—resistance never brought more than submission in its wake. In a world of punishment, every back was littered with whips; the cake had only ever existed in his mind.

On the cusp of adulthood, he finally understood.

And it wasn't that he'd had enough. They say that patience is a goblet full of flames; that one day even the most patient man's candle turns into a wildfire. But Scar's blaze had burnt out long ago; his insides were in ashes, and no amount of fanning would make flowers grow atop his wasted skin.

It wasn't that he'd had enough, because he'd been born to hold destruction in his palms, and no cross would ever become too heavy for the shoulders long broken and lying in the dust.

But one day, his father barged into his room, a threat in his eyes and a promise in his fists. And Scar stood up, his knees swimming around him and the dirty walls a light show in front of his starved mind.

And he said, "No."

And he couldn't remember what his father had told him. But he knew that they were things he said every day, things that took his breath away for minutes at a time, the same demands that only looming danger made them follow.

And he knew that he was done.

So as his father stared disbelieving at what his self-confidence accepted to be true, he spoke louder with do as I say, or else hanging in the air, and Scar repeated, "No."

"What?"

His father did not wait for him to reply; in a manner remembered by every occupant of the pathetic imitation of the word home, he made to grab his wrist, to force him as he had done so many times before—

And Scar thought, maybe he had had enough. He couldn't live like this anymore.

And he repeated for the first and millionth time all at once, "No!"

And he screamed, "Get out of my room!"

His father lunged. Scar pressed himself to the wall.

"Get out," he hissed. "Get out! Get out!" And then, "Mum!"

He did not know why he screamed for his mother. She wouldn't come, she never did; but despite everything, some part of Scar still held the child he'd never truly been, and she was his mother, and maybe it was immature hope that made him scream for her, but it was hope, and so he screamed.

His mother did appear, then; she did naught but stand there at the doorframe with a mournful look on her face, but she was there, and her presence lent him what he needed to refuse to back down.

"No! Get out! Leave me alone!"

He continued to repeat himself like a cog with a screw caught in-between its jagged edges, letters spilling out of him with a freedom he'd only ever dreamt of—every No! and Leave me alone! and I hate you! that had ever been swallowed down with his lips between his teeth. Just yesterday, he wouldn't have dared to be so careless with the things he kept close to his chest; but something inside him had clicked, and there was no going back. He was done.

His father swept all his things off his table then.

"I am your father!" the man's booming voice bounced off of the barely held together furniture. "I am your father and you will respect me!"

Liquid muscles solidified as Scar stepped forward, a newfound strength all his own, and he spat, "You're nothing to me. You're no father. I'm moving out and changing my name and getting rid of that fucking patronymic, because you know what?" His throat grew into itself; his vision blurred, "You know what my first memory is?"

And speaking was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he carried on, "You beating Mum and me getting in-between the two of you. You know how," his voice shook, "how fucked that is? You don't deserve my respect."

His father did not let him finish; as cement fell down on his ears, Scar knew that his words never meant a thing. But as he swiped his arm across his eyes, he found that being heard no longer mattered to him, and he laughed and threw the scissors he'd picked up away, turned to face the man who'd cursed him into existence and knew that in that moment his features said, go on, do your worst. Because he'd seen his father's worst, and he'd seen his own, and they were not the same.

His father would try to break him; he would pretend that he had succeeded, and never let on the truth—that he'd been born broken. And so as stone-cut knuckles advanced, he waited, because his father would never wash the blood from his hands, and if he could add his own into the mix, if he could make him burn with everything he could never undo—

"Get away from him!"

Scar hit the floor. His father's fist made contact with skin a shade paler than his own.

Maybe his mother had had enough, too.

And something about someone standing in front of him to face the horror he'd lived with since birth, the way that, finally, he wasn't ashamed, wasn't weak—Scar picked himself up. And he thought, there is nothing that he can do to me.

He screamed, and his mother screamed, and for the first time in his life, his father backed down.

From behind his mother's crying bones, he caught a glimpse of the man's face—twisted and alien and suddenly the smallest thing he'd ever seen. His room was in tatters; practiced fingers made a move to force their way back into his life, worn down capillaries imploded upon themselves in defiance a decade or two too late, familiar screams ran down his veins, the red cells chilled and halted in their tracks—

The door slammed shut. He was alone.

And through the tears mixing with the ever-flowing blood, through the endless noise, through the memories of a nothing-life reverberating around the dead ends of his parents' flat with the invisible bars on the windows, the cracks that never felt more like breaking his chains—through it all, Scar smiled.

He'd won.

(Years later, lying on the floor as his fellow heroes' laughter echoes all around him, a much older Scar wonders where that courage went.

Thinking back to the boy who stood on shaking legs in front of everything he ever feared, he can't find it in himself to be anything but what he is.)

(Nothing.)

#cat dad au #worddisaster #gtws #gtws angst #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #tw abuse #hermitfic

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shrekgogurt · 11 months ago

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WORDS

This is a sappy creative talking about being creative post. You have been warned. I did not proofread because I am nothing if not consistent in my personality.

I just got done watching Season 2 episodes 3&4 of the FX’s The Bear and I’m constantly inspired by their storytelling. The two episodes I watched really leaned into the creative process in a way that made me very reflective. I am terrible in a kitchen. However, I really saw similar patterns in my own pursuits.

I have a dear friend who studied brains in university and when I was at my lowest a few months ago she was telling me about how life is just skills. Things like IQ are bullshit. Everybody can do anything if they put the time in. It’s about just choosing skills and developing them. I get mad that I can’t draw. I get mad that I can’t play guitar well. Those are skills I’ve never worked on because the process doesn’t bring me joy, even though they are skills I wished I had. Meanwhile things like science or sports are areas I’ve never had much interest in cultivating anyway so the lack of skill doesn’t bother me as much.

I think about my skillset now a lot more. I think about how learning piano—while I’m frustrated by my lack of expertise—doesn’t make me literally cry while I’m learning. I embrace the challenge unlike something like drawing where I get so upset with myself it’s not fun anymore. This past fall while my confidence was totally shot (for a lot of reasons) I looked at my ability to sit at a keyboard and just play the same riffs from Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights over and over and over and over until I could do them. I learned I could do hard things. That maybe I’m not a total lazy piece of shit who gives up at the first sign of trouble.

And the beautiful thing is? That wasn’t always the case with piano. I’ve dabbled here and there throughout my life but when I first took piano lessons as a kid I HATED them. I didn’t enjoy putting in the work. But I do now because people change. And so maybe one day I will learn to draw but not right now. And that’s okay.

And then I start thinking about singing. There’s this sentiment that people are just naturally gifted, especially at singing. But at least for me that’s not the case. I’m good at singing because as a kid I loved it. I gravitated toward it. I sung all the time to the radio, mimicking the voices I heard. And I listened to SO MUCH music—partially because of my parents but also because I chose to always have the radio or a CD or my trusty mp3 player going. When I was playing with my dolls. When I was riding my bike. When I was in the shower. When I was at dance class. When I was dragged along to my siblings' sports games, I would build worlds while tuned into the nearest iHeartRadio station. (Airplanes feat. Hayley Williams. I loved it. I loved the storytelling. Pt. 1 but oh when the oh so rare Pt. 2 came through over the FM waves it was the best day of my life.)

Eventually, my parents put me into voice lessons. I learned how to sing rather than mimic. (Not that the latter is bad.) But I learned how to use it as an instrument. And I sang and I sang and I sang. In lessons. In choir. In church. That’s why I’m good at singing. It took me forever to learn how to harmonize. I was a soprano—it was always melody. But I’m learning that too as my voice changes. I can’t sing as high as I used to. I haven’t practiced notes off the staff since high school. Life is just skills. I was focusing on different ones. Like film (but we’ll get to that.)

There was something else always there. I don’t know how many people knew it—the extent. You had to live with me to see it…but I loved nothing more than I loved reading.

I always had my nose in a book. Like a lot of kids who consumed books non-stop it was definitely escapism. But I read and I read and I read. The classic question in my family was “where is Mary?” And the answer was always “in her room.” And if I wasn’t reading a story I was creating one. With my dolls yes, but eventually with my tiny little acer computer and with my thumbs in the notes app on my iPod Touch. (I still maintain that the notes app is where the best art happens.)

It was May in my eighth grade pre-Algebra class when my friend told me what FanFiction was and about how she had an account on good ole fanfiction.net. I made one too. I joined a Divergent roleplaying forum that lasted two months. I started writing a long-abandoned backstory for my character—Antoine, named at intermission of the high school production of West Side Story I was watching. It was bad. But I didn’t know it at the time. I thought I was doing something important and I guess I was.

The Divergent forum didn’t last long but a few months later I would create my own. Welcome to Camp Half Blood! Join in! Make an OC! I brought my friends over from the old forum and even as Admin my authority was immediately usurped. We built worlds. And then we rebuilt them. And then our worlds had baby worlds. Generation 1, Gen 1.5 (you suggest a teen pregnancy plot line as a joke one time while on a choir trip in Yorkshire ONE TIME and then you wake up and uh oh two characters are actually teen pregnant), Gen 2, on and on and on. There’s a whole Google Sheets document. It’s deeply comprehensive and filled with all our faceclaims and timelines and playlists.

We rarely wrote action in our roleplay. We mainly talked. Dialogue and dialogue and dialogue for years. I get compliments now on my dialogue in fics. It didn’t come from nowhere. It came from cringe-y exchanges with my friends as we fell in love with each other’s self inserts over and over and over again. I stayed up on school nights until 2am quietly wheezing only to fall asleep in Algebra 1 over my scribbled cursive poetry on the graph paper. Life is skills. I was choosing which ones to build.

It was never math.

It was stories.

In the singing. In the dance (competition team—burned me out. I was never the best athlete. I was always the most expressive. I was telling the story.) In the theatre. And in the little fan videos I would make with my friends for our OCs over on fanfiction.net.

So my dumbass went to film school. And like with singing I learned about stories. How to craft them. And I wrote bad scripts. And we made bad low budget films. And I was so scared of cameras but I learned how to use them. And I directed and I got good at that especially with documentaries. Looking at all the information and chasing down the story. Telling people who were faster editors than me where to cut. Telling people who could make the camera capture what I saw in my eye what to film. God I fucking loved it. And I miss it.

Because my dumbass went to seminary. Why? Because there were these ancient stories that were really important to me that were being used to harm others. And I wanted to learn them. And I wanted to be able to show that there was a different way than the one that spews hatred. And as Phoebe Bridgers sings I “went looking for a creation myth ended up with a pair of cracked lips.” And I’m figuring all that out still. What to do with these stories that mean so much to me. How to tell them. How to Robin Hood theology.

And as my life and my faith were falling apart. I looked at my tiny little shithole apartment. And how I used to hide in my room where I felt safe. And I made that apartment feel safe. It was my room now. And I walked out to my bookshelf and I saw a book I had bought and opened it up. And on the inside of the cover there was a map just like there was in all the best books from my childhood. So I stayed up until 3am reading it. And then the next night. And the next night. And then I bought the sequel and I read about a boy who thought he was going to be something and then he wasn’t that anymore. And he was lost and angry and self-destructive just like me. But then in the last part of the trilogy he decided at the last second to try to figure it all out. And I’m still trying to do that too.

I had been writing all along—non-fiction. Papers. Essays. (Metas—really.) And I learned how to approach a text. How to analyze it in one million different ways. And I think I took those skills I learned from the Bible and I stuck them on some YA trilogy. And I thought and I thought and I had something to say.

And I wrote. And I keep getting better. Because life is just skills.

So I was watching The Bear and Will Poulter as a baker talks about how he used to see some other baker as competition. Until he decided he wasn’t and instead he just tried to keep up. And I want to keep up. And I watch these television shows and I read your fics and I get so fucking inspired.

And I look at this stupid fucking soccer fic I love with my whole chest and I think about how life is just skills and they all have led me to be able to write it. And I know that in ten years when I’m 34 I’ll probably think it’s cringey just like I think that what I wrote when I was 14 is cringey. But GOD I’m so proud of it. And I think I always will be.

Because life is just skills and I’m really glad I chose these ones.

TL;DR I’ve never been the best “athlete” (had the best skills in a particular medium) but goddamn if I’m not a good fucking storyteller.

#personal #writing #kind of ikabikam

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novankenn · 11 months ago

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Corpse Queen (v1-6)

/== Table of Contents ==/

Neo was unsure of what to do. Right after bringing, Blondie back to the safe house, he proceeded to sit down with his back against a wall, and close his eyes. A Purple circle surrounded him shortly thereafter. So that left Neo with nothing really to do. She was promised answers after Blondie has a rest, so until he woke up, she was on her own.

She considered having something to eat, but didn’t really feel hungry, so she sat on the couch and stared at the TV. Neo hadn’t even turned it on, and just sat there, at least, for two minutes before hopping up and rushing to her private room. Closing and locking the door, she then moved over to her bed. Lifting the corner of her mattress, she pulled out her secret prized possession.

An autographed copy of Weiss Schnee’s last album. Putting the CD into her player, she turned up the volume and forwarded through the various songs until she found her favorite. “Mirror, Mirror” flowed out of the speakers, and Neo closed her yes letting the music flow over her… and then she did something she had only dreamed of. She began to sing along.

/==/

“I still don't believe it.” Jaune moaned as he dropped his face into his hands. “I was trying, really trying, and then…”

“Death comes to everyone, many when they least expect it.” Morrigan, “What is the puzzle in all this is WHY you were killed, and also WHY when I took control of your body your soul was drawn back into it.”

“Why does it matter? My life had gone to shit, and now it’s over.” Jaune sniffled, the weight of everything crushing down on him, breaking any inner strength he had held on to. “The fog was lifting, and I was thinking of returning to Beacon… and then this.”

“Fog? Explain?”

“While I was walking around, trying to decide what to do… things began to become clear again… like less fuzzy and more in focus. I was seeing things and feeling strange about what I was trying to remember.”

“And what were you trying to make sense of?”

“Why I walked away from Beacon. I knew I was weak, but I wanted more than anything to be a huntsman. To help people, and be a hero… and I just throw my team and my chance away?” Jaune replied, as he looked up from his hands, with red rimmed eyes. “It makes no sense… just as puzzling was how my friends were acting.”

“How was that puzzling?”

“They were acting, I don’t know… apathetic to me… when they never had before.”

“I see.” Morrigan reached up and tapped her left index finger against her plump lips. “Tell me. Are there individuals with magic, or supernatural powers in this world?”

“Well, magic… no, but Huntsmen and Huntresses have Aura which is used to power semblances. I guess you could call that… supernatural.”

“I see.” Morrigan rose from her seat and descended the steps from the raised area she had been seated upon. She approached Jaune and using a single finger raised his head to look into her black eyes. “There seems to be many questions surrounding you, Jaune… and I would like answers to them… however…”

“However?” Jaune asked.

“We need to decided what to do about our current situation. While we can share this body, in time my soul would subsume yours, and you would cease to be.” Morrigan removed her finger from under his chin. “Though that would take years… I would much rather have you move on, but there are other options.”

“Like?”

“I locate another fresh body near death, and either transplant your soul or mine into it.” Morrigan tapped her lips while she considered options. “I could also find a suitable host and rip their soul free, and take over.”

“No! You can’t!”

“Why? It would solve…”

“No! It’s bad enough you took my body, I’m not allowing you to just take someone else’s!”

“It is of no…”

“I said no! I may not have a choice in the matter, but this is my body, and I’m not letting you do that!”

#rwby #dead mount death play #jaune arc #morrigan letum balor (OC)#neopolitian (rwby)#joplin hedera (OC)#manipulation #possession #reincarnation

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p-receh · 3 months ago

Note

If you're still doing the character thing

2, 24, and 25 for sonic or amy :D

Hai Maiprim! I still am btw! I decided I won't putting it down very soon. I think this will be a fun task since I like answering ask box. I may be late but I'll always try to not left any questions behind. 😁

Wait, Sonic or Amy? How about both? 😅

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

- Sonic

The misinformation about hedgehog's fear of swimming. We previously witness accidental mistake made by the technology issues, this one however was purely man power's mistake. Despite the differences, this mistake is also become a unique trait to establish the character's value from the very first game. We don't need to know what his weaknesses are by reading his profile or interviews, we could already experienced it in practice. That is why the aquatic levels are both challenging and "frustrating" to some players (including me 🙃).

Full article. I can't stop laughing when sir Iwata asked about this in the Iwata Asks series lemao.

The other canon continuity I respect about Sonic Team is the core conflict about Nature vs Industry that is still showcased in the current game. Sure, this series--to this day-- is objectively "diverse", with a wide range of media, gameplay, music, graphics, and story. But this premise has not changed throughout three goddamn decades. It is surprisingly amazing to be fair how many times this series went down, they still managed to raise and gain success.

- Amy

I love that they have some background story behind her Piko-Piko Hammer. In Tails Adventure from Game Gear, there's an item called Pikkon Hammer.

Even it's not officially confirmed that's the exact same hammer she uses but it was really clear that's basically the concept of Piko-Piko Hammer before finalized it in the creation of Amy Rose.

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

- Sonic

Ah, there's one that I felt really intact to my brain! Him and Mario in my opinion were reminded me of Percy and Jason from the Heroes of Olympus series. My 16 youth self constantly screams: 'This is totally Mario & Sonic holy shit!'. Their bonding was really cool and hilarious, that's also why the third book is my favorite of the series X'D.

- Amy

To be honest, Amy has many fandoms that remind me of her. She's a kinda mix of Sakura from Naruto, Heart from Sugo Chara, and ichigo Momomiya from Tokyo Mew-Mew, Sonoko from Conan... there's more but that's all I can think of honestly.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

- Sonic

Again I talked much the first time I met him here. One of his most fascinating aspects is obviously his design. Before I know Sonic, the antrophormo.... Bleugh how do people nowadays say it? Ah, "Fury" style design that I have usually known about animal humanoid characters for years. Whether a simple cartoon or a heavier one like Beastar or Tom & Jerry. Or mixed up like half animal, half human(like the famous Centaur for example).

Until Sonic came in.

Concept art by Naoto Oshima and Yasashi Yamaguchi

In the first place, I can see he was inspired by Mickey Mouse or 70's cartoons based on his concept art. Yet, his final product is full of originality that almost has no resemblance to Mickey. The modern era also portrays his personality further. He is still imo one of the best designs, ever. His looks already steal the show from the very beginning before getting to know what his perks and traits are. I was interested in his looks without knowing what his abilities were. To be honest, I didn't know the meaning of the word "Sonic", heck I didn't know he was a hedgehog at that time. (I swear when I looked the CD package of Mario and Sonic, I legit staring at his design for hours. Only to analyze what the heck was he supposed to be. Yes, my 12 year old brain was not braining)

Earlier I learned about him, to me he is such a happy and quirky dude with a style. Moving so free like the wind itself without any regrets. That's how I see him the moment he entered the field in the first cutscene of 06.

youtube

(Talk about an entrance! 👀. Que to 02:25 , "Event: Sonic Appears" is one my fav Sonic introduction scene is series. Hear that glorious rearrangge ver of His World beibeh! 😎)

But the one that made me falls into this giant pit hole of this series was when I watch Colors after 06 and this scene happened.

Even though it short as heck, but the way he suddenly turn into serious was caught me off guard. I literally opened my eyes wiiide as egg benedict. Sonic Team sure ain't lying about Sonic in serious mode!

(original article, fan translation)

It's always such a rare moment but when he does, he's ridiculously scary! He looks like a different person! And I'm so glad this rare trait still respectfully presented in other media till today.

(Yeah I know 06 got tons of that but that kissing scene destroyed my youth brain that I forgot most of them afterwards lol)

My opinion of him tbh hasn't changed that much. As much as Sega has made some of the dumbest decisions ever, at the end of the day, I can't hate him. All of his VAs are great to each of their own with no exception (I'm not joking. Even I like my own country's ver of Sonic), His one-liner quotes are motivating and inspiring to me. His games really encapsulate fast action sequences and pioneers with the term "speedrun". His music resonates with me to this day. He truly is just a guy who seeks adventure above everything. And he is one of IP platformers outside Nintendo that's still strong as now. Which is really amazing to observe.

Yes, I get it, He can never beat Mario with all his glory. But hey, like it or not, he's the only contender left to match his style. Even if it takes time, I can hope the path that the Sonic Team chooses now... slowly but surely Sonic will be at least on par with Mario in terms of quality (and popularity in Japan).

(Straight to the point. 😎👌)

Even his very first page of his jp manual book from the first game says this:

Rough translation :

"Sorry for being cheeky.

Fusy people are the worst.

I don't do it for justice, I just do what I like to do.

But nevertheless I won't betray you."

- Amy

I always loved an energetic and optimistic trope girl so it's no surprise that Amy filled the checklists. Her main color code happens to be pink aaaaaaand she has short hair(quills in this case)! XD. She's instantly become my fav in the selection phase from the moment I laid eyes on her. She is probably one of the few characters to actually wield a weapon in the series. A female character using a giant item to fight is never old and she's no exception.

What I like the most about her is that she's essentially the mother of a group. Never give up hope when everything is ruined. As much as she is loyal to Sonic, even she bravely steps in against Sonic for what it's right to her.

In my opinion, her perks of protective over Sonic from strangers somehow led her to actually be the one who reassures and helps them in need. And she always did with most of Sonic rivals: Shadow, Silver, Blaze, Chaotix, you name it.

She's that simple! But why the fuck is she still being misinterpreted by fandom? Allahuakbar uuuuuuurrrggghhh I can't...

To be fair, both of them are the highest debated topics in the fandom. Every account can say their opinions and can stir other opinions in a flick of a switch. It's rapidly quick and miss. They constantly change and twist the debate per second, then magically forget for a week until they argue the very fucking same topic. This cycle tremendously repeats every month, every year! It just never ends!

It had gotten seriously worse since the pandemic and I. had. enough. This is why I never admit myself as a sonic fan specifically on the internet. I think I already explained enough before, so I don't want to add anything else.

I honestly love Amy US and JP voice. But as non both speakers, Sega must have created a middle decision to solve the confusion for Japanese and overseas players, especially in the west. Cuz hands up, their cultures are pretty in contrast with how distinct the scripts and the voice lines are. My only suggestion is the Sonic Team makes two different angles of a cutscene to match both tones. This strategy surprisingly has already been used by RGG, another dev team under Sega, since Like a Dragon 7.

youtube

I don't expect them to do another cgi attempt, nononononono. 06 and Unleashed are enough. But does it mean the Sonic team must do double animated scenes for US and JP scripts? From how the scripts were written in Frontiers, I .... guess so?

I mean, what else is left then? :/

#amy rose #sonic #Menjawab mutual #Holy shit it past two weeks since I received this ask box?!#Pleaaaaaaase forgive me🙏😭#Analysis recehan

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xxrainshadowsxx · 1 year ago

Text

Interpersonal Chapter 19

This wasn't my original plan for this chapter, but once again Onceler decided to take a few left turns. But the important thing is still here. He gets to meet his kid.

TW: Onceler is a sad boy, and there's a tiny bit of suicidal ideation from him if you squint.

For a few minutes the only sounds in the car are the thrum of the tires on the road and a Queen CD playing in the background. Once again, he’s the one to break the almost unbearable silence.

“So, tell me about Jack. What’s he like?” he asks eagerly, clearly desperate for more information about the son you shared with him.

“That’s a big topic,” you say, though you can’t help but smile. “I can give you a broad overview, but it’ll be better when you actually start spending time with him.” You take a couple of turns as you mull over what words you want. “As I’ve said, he’s a lot like you,” you start. “Not identical though. Jack’s a lot… quieter.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that even though a lot of it was just a show, you’ve always been able to put on a lot of bravado,” you state bluntly. “Just the ability to put on a show is a skill in and of itself. Jack’s still figuring himself and the world out, so he doesn’t have that level of confidence quite yet, but I’m working on–LEARN TO DRIVE BEFORE YOU GET BEHIND A WHEEL, DUMBASS!” you shout in the middle of your sentence as some idiot cuts you off. Onceler laughs quietly, making you stare at him for a moment. “What?”

“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re just cute is all.”

You stare at him until you remember you’re driving and have to actually focus on the road. He needed to absolutely not say those kinds of things to you. Not when your resolve to put Jack first was crumbling the longer you spent with him. Every time you looked at him, the urge to throw yourself in his arms and kiss him got stronger and stronger.

God, what was wrong with you? Yes, you still loved him, but your love for your son superseded everything else. Jack needed to be comfortable before you decided what you wanted to do about any kind of relationship with his father. You didn’t even know what Onceler felt for you at this point, and you were terrified of what the answer could be. He could very well hate you for turning down his marriage proposal the last time you saw each other. You saw in his eyes how deep you had twisted the knife when you’d refused him.

You force yourself to go the rest of the drive to your apartment in relative silence. In fact, it’s not until you’re parking in front of the cluster of buildings and grabbing the wheel lock from the backseat that either one of you speaks, and once more it’s him.

“So… why do you need that?” he asks, gesturing to the wheel lock as you fit it in place over your steering wheel.

“I live in a shitty part of town,” you say in a very matter-of-fact voice. “I don’t need some idiot teenager thinking it’s a good idea to try and steal my car.”

“But why are you here?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused. “I left that house so that you could use it, among other reasons. You don’t need to stay here.”

Your gaze softens as he speaks, and you have to physically restrain yourself from reaching up and caressing his face. “I didn’t know,” you say gently. “I’m here because this is what Aurora and I can afford.”

He frowns as he starts to follow you to your building. “I still own the other house,” he mutters. “Do you want to move back in? There’s more room and it’s a much less shitty area.”

God, this is part of the reason you fell for him. It’s so much in his nature, even now, to take care of people. Whatever his feelings were towards you, there was a sort of family that you still were in together and always would be. You still knew each other all too well. His offer was so tempting. And yet… “I think there’s too many memories for me to live in that house comfortably,” you whisper, hating yourself just a little for it.

To your surprise, he nods a bit. “No, you’re right. It’s not a good fit if we’re trying to start over,” he muses. “I’ll buy you a new house then.”

You stop as you get to the foot of your building, staring incredulously at him. “And how the fuck are you going to do that when you haven’t worked in ten years?” you ask suspiciously. “Come to think of it, what happened with all of your money? You had millions, if not billions. What did you do with it?”

Now he just looks uncomfortable. “So, technically I still have it,” he evades. You raise your eyebrow at his word choice.

“Just come out with it,” you press. “If it’s gone, it’s gone. I don’t know how you could have spent that much money in just ten years, but still.”

“It’s not gone,” he mutters. “I never declared bankruptcy for the company. I just ceased operations. So I was able to keep all the money. I put it in a bank account and it’s been growing interest ever since.”

You blink once, then twice. That was the last thing you’d been expecting. “So what you’re saying is–”

“I have more money than ever, yes,” he finishes your sentence with a sigh. “More money than I know what to do with, and now all I want is to give Jack what I can to at least attempt to make up for not being there for the past nine years.” He’s got a dark look of regret on his face that you recognize a little too well. You also, at least, know how to fix it.

“You’re here. That’s going to do more for him than money,” you say quickly. “And I’m not destitute, I’m not accepting money from you. I can’t.”

“Oh, can you please put away your pride and let me do this?” he huffs in a low tone, and there’s a resolve there that you’ve never seen before. “This is not me asking to buy you a house. This is me telling you I have more money than I could ever need for myself, so I’m buying you a house whether you like it or not. All my money was going to go to you anyway.”

That makes you pause. “Wait, what?”

“I had left everything to you in my will,” he shrugs. “I didn’t know how much longer I’d be alive after I gave the seed. I thought that was the only thing I had left to do. Of course, immediately after Jack gave me another reason to keep living, but for ten years I didn’t think I was going to be around long after that seed was gone. I had no reason to keep anything, so I figured I’d give it to you.”

You feel tears pricking at your eyes again. Damn emotions. You usually weren’t this weepy, but he was fucking with everything so thoroughly. His almost emotionless talk of a world without him nearly destroyed you to hear. You couldn’t imagine such a thing. You didn’t want to know a world that he didn’t inhabit. “I never want to hear you talking like that again, understand?”

“Like I said, I have you and Jack to live for now,” he promises softly. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to be stuck with me for a very long time.”

“Good.” You start walking up the stairs, away from the feelings that he’s stirring up in you again. Your apartment is on the third floor, and you’d rather be inside anyway if you’re going to continue having heavy conversations.

You shove your key into the lock and push the door open. As you expected, the place is empty. Aurora is at work and Jack is still at school. Onceler follows you inside, drinking in every detail of the place.

You immediately go to Jack’s room and check that the seed is still safe in his dresser, and you find it right where you left it. That was by far the most precious thing in your house, and you needed to keep it safe until Saturday so Jack could plant it. After you confirm it’s alright, you head back to your small living room.

Onceler’s sitting on the couch, and he’s picked up a photo album you’d left out on the coffee table. You’d gotten it out last night after Jack had told you who he’d seen. “Those are mostly of Jack,” you murmur. “Do you want to go through them?”

Without waiting for an answer, you take a seat next to him and gently pry the book from his grasp, keeping it between the two of you as you open it to peruse its contents.

The first few pictures chronicle you during your pregnancy. You start out with a small bump before ballooning into a giant one. There was also a copy of Jack’s ultrasound pictures. Onceler stays quiet and pensieve, but pauses when he comes to a certain photo.

It’s of you in the hospital, utterly exhausted after nearly three days of labor. Your hair was a mess, there were tear tracks staining your face, and you were covered with blood and bits of your own insides. There was also a screaming baby on your chest, still with the umbilical cord attached. It was the first time you’d ever held your son. It had been the first time you had ever seen your son.

Onceler has a very strange expression on his face, and you remember that he’s not fond of this kind of stuff; he’s very squeamish. “Not pretty, is it?” you comment, attempting to lighten the mood.

“I didn’t realize it was so… messy,” he mutters, still transfixed by the image. You just snort.

“I’d just pushed an entire human out of me, of course it was messy,” you huff. “And he took a long time to get here. I had to get induced, and even then it took three days.”

“Three days?! It can take that long?”

“Yup. And he was a big baby, he was over nine pounds,” you inform. “That picture is not nearly as graphic as it could have been. A couple minutes later I was getting stitches.”

“Why did you need stitches?” he asks, looking horrified. You just raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh. Right,” he mutters as he puts it together with a wince. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Out of instinct, you almost tell him it isn’t his fault, but in this case, it kind of was. “I was expecting it,” you say instead. “You’re six and a half feet tall, and I was having regular ultrasounds. I knew he wasn’t going to be small. At least I had an epidural. That helped.

Onceler’s face blanches at the mention of the epidural, his hatred of needles kicking in. He quickly turns the page to a much more tame set of pictures of Jack as a baby, and immediately zeroes in on one.

You were laying on your bed, just a small smile on your face. Your left arm was extended, and Jack, who was only a few weeks old then, was asleep under that arm next to you. Onceler can’t seem to stop staring at that particular picture. “I should have been the one to take this,” he whispers after a moment.

“It’s not your fault,” you reiterate. “You didn’t know–”

“That doesn’t mean I should have stayed away,” he says, finally tearing his eyes away from the picture and turning to face you now. “I should have given you some time to calm down, and then I should have gone after you, regardless of Jack’s existence or not. I should have apologized and begged for your forgiveness.”

“What are you saying?” you whisper. You think you know where his head is at, but you refuse to make assumptions in case you’re wrong. Oh God, if you’re wrong…

Your name floats off his lips like a prayer. “I’ve thought about you every day since you left. I wanted to marry you darling. Those feelings don’t go away overnight.” His eyes darken just slightly, awakening a desire in you that you haven’t known in years. It’s so foreign and so intense that it’s all you can do to bite back a moan right then and there. “Those feelings never went away at all,” he confesses.

He brings his hand up to your face, and anything you might have said back to him vanishes from the tip of your tongue as your brain short circuits. His fingertips trail down your face until he’s holding your chin, tilting it up just slightly.

Whatever might have happened next is abruptly cut short as you hear a key turning the lock of the front door, causing you to jump away from him. Aurora shouldn’t be home yet…

But sure enough, your sister walks through the door a moment later, and she’s got Jack with her. Your eyes widen as you quickly glance at the clock, but you didn’t lose track of time like you’d feared; he’s still supposed to be in school. “Mom? Aunt Aurora said–” his sentence is cut short as he sees Onceler sitting next to you on the couch.

You see the exact second when he puts together who Onceler is. His mouth falls open and more emotions than a nine-year-old should have to be put through flicker through his eyes all at once. Hurt, anger, sadness, hope; they’re all there before he desperately turns to you for comfort. “Is that my dad?” he whispers.

You sigh heavily. You’re going to kill Aurora. “Okay,” you say in your best mom voice. “Jack, come here.” You pat the spot on the couch next to you, making sure to keep yourself as a buffer between father and son, at least for now. “I need you both to be quiet while I explain some things. Got it? And you,” you direct at Aurora. “Why didn’t you let me get him? I was going to brace him instead of just throwing him into this.”

“This is more important than school,” Aurora says without a hint of remorse before disappearing into her room. You roll your eyes at her before turning to your son.

“Okay, baby,” you murmur. “You know that guy out beyond the wall you saw yesterday?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Jack nods anyway. “This is him. And yes. He’s your father.”

You pause to let the words hang there, much heavier than gravity. Jack looks around you to stare at his father, identical blue eyes recognizing each other for the first time.

You can already see the question in Jack’s face, and you know he deserves an answer. “He was not not around because he didn’t want you,” you stress. “He didn’t know you existed. We… well, we hit a rough patch before I knew I was pregnant.” Now you look at Onceler for help. You didn’t know how much of the story he’d told Jack before giving him the seed.

“And I immediately left town after that,” he says quietly, speaking to Jack now. “Your mother didn’t know how to find me.”

Jack’s looking between the two of you now. “So, when you mentioned a girl yesterday,” he starts slowly. “That was you?” Both of you nod in unison.

You take Jack’s hands now. “If I could do it over again, I would have found him earlier,” you murmur. “I never wanted you to grow up without a dad, and he’s not a bad guy. It’s not a situation where I was keeping you from him for your own protection.”

“And I never would have stayed away if I had known,” Onceler adds.

“But you found out yesterday, didn’t you?” Jack asks, and try as he might, there is a slight note of accusation coloring his tone. “That’s why you asked how old I was and who my mom was. You figured it out. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

Now it’s Onceler’s turn to sigh heavily. “Well, first because I was in shock,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to learn I had a son. And second, you’d just heard how horrible of a person I had been. I didn’t know if you’d want someone like me as your dad. I’m probably not what you expected. I’ve made countless mistakes. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted someone better than me.”

You shrink back into the couch a bit. You want them to be able to talk to each other, but also want to be there for support if either of them need it.

“No! I mean, you made a mistake but… everyone makes mistakes, right?” Jack glances at you, as if he’s worried he’s saying the wrong things. You nod encouragingly at him. “I mean. You apologized. You want to do better, right?”

“More than anything,” Onceler whispers, and it’s impossible to doubt the sincerity behind the words.

Jack hesitates for a moment. “And… you’re not gonna disappear again?” he asks, suddenly sounding even younger than he already is.

“As long as you want me around, I’ll be here,” Onceler promises. “You’re my son, and I want nothing more than to be your father. I love you.”

Jack’s upper lip quivers, and you can tell he’s doing his best to keep his composure. This is where your mom instincts step in. “Baby, come here,” you tell him. And even though he’s already getting close to you in height, you pull him into your lap just as the first tears start to fall from his eyes. Another moment later he’s crying into your shoulder. Onceler hesitates, but you give him a brief nod over Jack’s head, and he wraps his arms around the both of you, his own eyes misty as well.

You stay like this for a long time. The emotional maelstrom of finally meeting his dad was clearly a lot for Jack, and it takes a while for his tears to stop. Even when they do, the three of you seem very content to stay where you are.

Eventually, it’s Jack who breaks the moment. He shifts back onto his own spot on the couch. “How come you never came back?” he asks Onceler, his voice still a bit thick.

“I thought your mom hated me,” he murmurs, looking a little surprised by the question. “I didn’t want to hurt her more than I already had.” But instead of accepting that answer, Jack just seems more confused.

“Did she ever actually tell you she hated you?’

Now Onceler squirms uncomfortably. “Well, no but–”

“Then why did you never come back to check?”

“Because your parents are supreme dumbasses when it comes to how they feel about each other.” Aurora’s voice comes from behind you, making you jump; you hadn’t realized she was there. “And because of that, you and I are going to go out to dinner, okay kid? And meanwhile,” she turns to you and Onceler, fixing both of you with a hard stare. “You two get your shit together. I’m too old to deal with the pining looks you’ll inevitably give each other over the next few months if you don’t sort things out now.”

“Aurora,” you warn, but she doesn’t back off at all.

“No, I know you kept saying yesterday that your own feelings didn’t matter and that this was about Jack, and I get it. That’s what’s made you such a good mom. But you still need to take care of yourself. You’ve done absolutely right by Jack for now. Let me take him to dinner to help him process this, while you actually take care of yourself for once,” she implores before turning to Onceler. “And you,” she growls. “I’m not like these two, I don’t give second chances often, especially not with how spectacularly you messed up the first one. You’re not getting a third. So for the love of God don’t fuck this one up.”

You wish she was wrong more often. But she so frequently hits the nail on the head that it’s difficult to argue with her. After you confirm with Jack that he’s okay with the plan, you let her take him, and then you’re alone with Onceler again.

“Sorry. I know she’s a menace to society,” you mutter, not able to look at him, settling instead for twisting your hands in your lap again.

“It’s fine. She’s right,” he sighs. “And we probably should talk about us, I guess.”

You huff out a quick, annoyed breath of air. “Do we have to? It’s easier to ignore feelings,” you say, only half joking. “That’s how I’ve gotten by these past ten years.” He nods in total understanding. “But on the other hand, if we don’t talk and decide anything, Aurora actually will kill us,” you sigh again. “So let’s do this."

#fanfiction #onceler fanfiction #onceler x reader #the lorax #the onceler #also on ao3 #onceler

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