#I excel at using the block button by now

[aiura-stan]

I gotta be honest as a multi shipper I am incapable of taking any one interpretation of the story seriously, especially since it’s a comedy anyways. Saiai terusai satousai satouhii is all truth and I don’t make the rules. it’s all fake and theres a good argument to be made for many of them and the ones that there isn’t? just about as likely as happening considering Saiki k is a completed gag series

[hannahssimblr]

Winter. 

When did this happen? Was I looking away for long enough for the season to change without my notice? I haven’t spent enough time here watching time, from this old velvet seat by the window that overlooks brutalist blocks, each building identical to the next. These utilitarian slabs might stand like this, grey cubes jutting from the asphalt, for five hundred years. I’m here for five months now. Thoroughly settled, used to this place, this apartment with the tarry flavour of cigarettes clinging to the furniture the landlady never took away. 

Jonas says she’s strange, this woman who has left all of her old things for us to live around. Her lamps, with sun-faded shades, her record collection, the chenille bedspreads stuffed into a closet, and the ancient television I replaced the day after I landed. I’ve never met her. Sometimes, I slip a dusty bottle from her wine rack in the cellar and serve it to my friends at dinner. Surely, by the time she ever notices, I’ll be long gone.

Through the vignette of condensation, the snow drifts, white flecks, across the beam of the streetlights. Kreuzberg is quiet. Sunday. 

I refocus my eyes to look into my face, a mirror reflection in the black window. I look older, perhaps, than in the photographs Jen posted to me in September, the ones from the summer, where the light is hazy and our noses are sun blushed, from that time that feels like another lifetime already, or like fiction. At Christmas, I returned to Ireland, and it rained for two weeks without stopping, and it felt something more like reality.

My grandmother told me that my hair was straggly, and she’s right. It’s been too long since I’ve cut it, but the ends of my hair spent the summer with me. Even though my skin cells have replaced themselves, the parts of my hair touching the collar of my coat and curling around my ears hold the memories that the rest of me is slowly losing. 

I haven’t stayed in touch with my friends from there as much as I would have liked. These days are busy, with friends, with college. I draw and paint more than I ever have, lashing out piece after piece, sketchbook after sketchbook, building a tower upon the desk in my cold little bedroom, though the women in my pieces don’t have green eyes anymore. Now, I choose blue.

The door buzzes, and I stand to answer it. 

My finger on the button, “Yeah?”

“Hurry! Open up, it’s fucking cold.”

I buzz her in, then stand waiting by the open door as she ascends the stairway. Three floors. I hear her the whole way, the snap of boot heels against tile. There’s an elevator in her building, and I feel acutely guilty about my building’s lack of one, despite being entirely powerless to do anything about it, as I am an art student, not an engineer, and was not yet actually born during its construction. 

She appears on the landing, shivering, with snowflakes clinging to her hair, and sitting on the structured shoulders of her trench coat. 

“Ugh, oh God, those stairs. I hate them.” She says. She unzips her boot and tosses onto the pile of shoes next to the door, and I notice immediately that she’s barefoot, toes balanced on the tiles like a ballerina. 

“You didn’t wear socks?”

She’s not wearing tights either. Her long, pale legs poke, completely exposed beneath the beige gabardine. 

“Did you take the U-Bahn like this? It must be five below zero.”

Her second boot hits the tile with a clatter, and she backs me into my apartment. As the door clicks shut, she pulls on the tie of her coat.

She’s wearing nothing but black lingerie. 

“Ah,” I am enlightened. This now makes perfect sense to me, in much the same way it does to her. Astrid has a way of bringing me around to her way of thinking. 

This was actually an excellent idea. 

“I was bored,” she says, which makes sense too. She is always bored. This is why she does what she’s seen people do in films. It’s a way to keep herself entertained. An unwelcome thought flashes into my mind, as I wonder if she has done this specific thing for previous boyfriends. I hop off that path. With Astrid, it is important to dwell only upon the present. Anything before this, now, me, us, is nothing worth worrying about. 

I slip my hands under her coat, onto the soft, downy velvet of her skin. 

“Nice and warm,” she murmurs. 

“Astrid, you shouldn’t have gone out like this.”

“It was only thirty minutes.”

“I know, but,” Her hands are freezing between mine as I heat them with my breath. “It’s too cold.” I’ll have to give her something of mine to wear when she goes home, but begin to worry that nothing is clean. I have been avoiding taking my dirty clothes to the basement since I flew back in ten days ago, too cowardly to face the seizing cold of the communal laundry room and that ever present leak in the ceiling surely turned to an icicle by now. 

These are not sexy thoughts. 

It’s like she can tell just by looking at me. “The point is, you will heat me up,” she says, a bit slowly, like I’m thick.

I don’t want to be the guy that lacks spontaneity. That would make me anxious. She pulls her hands from mine and pouts at me, as though at a little dog. “Look at you, you’re so nice.”

It’s not intended as a compliment, and I understand I should be doing something a bit wilder, like, I don’t know, taking my own clothes off already. Why on earth haven’t I started to do that?

Ah, because I am nice. 

“Okay, fuck your hands then. They can freeze.” Often, jokes are a mistake around Astrid. She rarely laughs at them. In fact, she rarely smiles at all, and only indulges us when she feels like doing it. It’s never to be polite. She knows her own mind. I’m obsessed with her. 

I’m obsessed to an ever greater extent now, because, once again, she’s not laughing. She’s not trying to please me. It’s me, always, trying to please her instead. I tug on her coat and it pools to the floor, then I kiss her. 

“God, I love you.” 

I murmur it, the truth. 

I knew it the third or fourth night we spent together, in November, as the last stubborn leaves clung to the branches. She wasn’t like anybody I had ever met before. She reminded me of nobody, and that was the point. 

I felt it, that weakness, my molten insides, and the deep fear of it in the early hours of one morning as she lay on the sheets with moonlight spilling across her back. She has a tattoo between her shoulder blades of a heart pierced by three daggers. She says it’s from a tarot card, and she was younger and stupider when she got it. That night, as she slept, I uncovered some kind of symbolism in it that moved me, but in the morning light I had forgotten all the profound thoughts I’d come up with except one: That I loved her. It surprised me. I ignored the tiny pang of sadness I felt, like mourning for a part of my life that was already long gone. It was useless to miss it.

I chose Astrid instead. 

I choose her now, love her in the same way I kiss her and touch her and fuck her, by doing what she wants me to do. It’s not a submissive situation. I’m not into that stuff. I am a man clocking in and doing as he's asked, thoroughly, diligently, excelling at his job. Eager to please. Employee of the month.

“Will you put your hand on my throat?” She breathes. Beneath me, her hands claw the bedsheets. 

Yes, I think. That would be nice. 

I am interested to discover that I like it too. I don’t think the other girls I’ve slept with would have let me try the things that Astrid does. They couldn’t picture themselves doing it, I’m sure, and neither could I. Back then I didn’t think about sex the way I do now, but Berlin has been bringing it out in me. 

She comes first. That’s mandatory. Then afterwards, when I have, and thoughts return to my brain, I’ll lay here, haunted by the years I didn’t know about this golden rule, and all the time that I thought I was good at sex but wasn’t. Dwelling on the disappointment I brought upon women and girls will make me spiral a bit, I’ll feel it rising, but I’ll feel better when I fuck Astrid again, in some new, fascinating position, and she’ll tell me I’m pretty good, in fact.

She’ll be loud enough about it that Klaus from downstairs may complain, and point out that such volume levels are forbidden on Sundays. He’ll threaten to raise it with the building management, so I’ll bring up the fact I know it was he who put cat food containers in the recycling bin. Neither of us will do anything, and the cycle will repeat until one of us moves or dies.

“Klaus is a miserable, jealous old fool,” Astrid says. “He probably doesn’t have sex, so he’s furious at people who do. I think it’s basic psychology.”

“He lives with his wife, you know.”

“Oh, that doesn’t mean he’s having sex. Married people don’t do it. Or at least hardly ever. That’s why I’ll never be tied down like that.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“You think Mr and Mrs Klaus are fucking like rabbits down there?”

I scrunch up my face. “I’ve never heard them. Maybe they do it very quietly while I’m out of the apartment.”

“They never do. I bet they hate one another. Surely they sleep in separate rooms and only speak when they have to.” Astrid invents this story with glee. She is describing what is to her an indisputable fact of life. Her parents, and her mother’s relationship with her stepfather, too. I think she believed these things about marriage before meeting me, but the confirmation that my parents are the same has solidified it. 

“I don’t like to think about things in such a black and white way,” I say, and hold my palm against hers. Her fingers are long and slender. “Just because a lot of marriages are bad, doesn’t mean they’re all doomed. I believe some people are happy.”

“Trapped,” she whispers. “Like canaries in a cage. Maybe they don’t know any better.”

“If I was married, it’d be because I loved that person completely. I wouldn’t do it unless I was sure, and if I loved someone that much, I think I’d still have sex all the time. I can’t really picture that changing. When would I ever not be doing it, you know?”

She hums gently. “So you would never join a monastery.”

“Ugh.”

“And if you married me, you’d want me like this forever?”

This isn’t a serious question about marriage. That would be ridiculous. This is a test for me to pass, and am about to, with flying colours.  

“Yeah, you’re so appealing in every way. I can’t imagine not being completely crazy about you forever.”

“You definitely wouldn’t get over me if I left you.”

“Nah, probably not. In my grief, I might even refuse to sign the divorce papers or some shit.”

She nods, satisfied, and rests her head on my chest. It slots nicely beneath my chin. “I want to go to sleep,” she says.

“Alright, me too.”

I switch off the light and listen to the pitter patter of the snow on the window, drifting slowly away with it.

Astrid shifts, restless. 

“Tomorrow, I have a lecture at eight.”

“Unlucky.”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“Ah, yeah, probably because of the lingerie stunt.”

A pout. “It was a gift for you.”

“And I loved it. I can find you something to wear.”

“To my class? Your clothes? I’ll look ridiculous. Can you get me a taxi to my house so I can change?”

“Yeah, of course. If you wear my clothes in the taxi.”

“I won’t be naked under my coat in front of a strange man, Jude.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll arrange a taxi, then.”

“That’s sweet of you.” She adjusts her position again, and the subtle contact of our bodies sets off a chain of sensation. I rake my nails lightly over her back, and she shudders. 

“You’re so pretty,” I say. “Did you know that?” I know she does, but I like the smug way she always says yes. 

“It’s okay if I leave my underwear here?”

“If you want to, yeah. Why? Do you think I wanted to carry it around in my pocket or something?”

“So you can wash it for me.”

“Yeah,” I press my lips to the back of her hand. “I’ve been meaning to go to the laundry basement for too long now. I’ll just add them to the pile.”

“No, you need to hand-wash them. They’re made of lace.”

“Oh right. So like, in the sink, or something.”

“I thought you might have known that.”

“Nah, see, in Dublin, we had a cleaner who washed all of my lace underwear for me.”

“Mm…”

“... That was a joke about the lace underwear. We did actually have a cleaner, though.”

“You’ll take care of it? They were quite expensive. It’s not as though I have a lot of that kind, so if it got ruined…”

“I will.”

She slips a hand into my hair and seeks my lips in the dark. She kisses me with such affection that I melt into her. “I love you, Jude. Thank you.”

“I love you too.”

A low chuckle as I bite her earlobe. “You really would never be a monk, would you?”

“Oh, my God. The thought makes me sick.”

I roll over her, and we give Klaus one more thing to complain about.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[allisluv]

COMING CLEAN

chapter nine — the roof

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: violence and the “who did this to you” trope. mentions of forced prostitution and selective mutism. lmk if i missed any!

word count: 3.2k

previous chapter — next chapter

Finnick nearly makes it out of the dining room without getting dragged into another one of his escort's pointless conversations.

Nearly.

"Finnick!" Cordelia calls, voice shrill and sharp as she struggles to keep up with him. He slows to a walk and presses the button for the glass elevator. Her chest heaves with heavy breaths as she moves to stand in front of him, hands on the plush of her hips. "Where are you going?"

Finnick crosses his arms over the front of his training outfit and stares straight ahead. "I'm going to see Dahlia.". She scoffs. "Do you have a problem with that, Cordelia?"

The elevator doors slide open. Cordelia juts her chin out and side-steps him, effectively blocking him from stepping into the lift. "I do, actually. You haven't attempted to practice for your private training session today! The games start in two days, Finnick. Dahlia is ill. You can't keep wasting your time on a lost cause. Dead weight isn't going to get you anywhere in that arena."

Finnick bristles, shouldering his way past Cordelia before he can say something he will come to regret later. He presses the button for floor nine and flips her off before the doors can close. She clings to the string of pearls sitting around her neck, and Finnick takes pride in knowing that she has finally been knocked down a peg or two.

He doesn't allow himself to dwell on the fact that his escort is entitled-- that much he could've figured out himself. Instead, he focuses on the floors whizzing past him at the speed of light and the warmth that floods his chest when he sees Dahlia curled up in a ball on the leather sofa, legs tucked underneath her.

Dahlia doesn't seem to notice him until he hops over the back of the sofa and settles beside her. She flinches, and the movement causes the plate of cinnamon rolls balancing on her knees to go flying. Finnick catches them before they can fall, and he offers her an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

Dahlia shakes her head as if to get rid of the bad thoughts in her head. "It's alright. It's just being here that makes me jumpy, you know?" Finnick hums his agreement and absentmindedly rubs a soothing pattern into the the skin by her shoulder blades. She's too caught up in her thoughts to even register his touch and how much she likes his skin on hers. "I don't know why I said that. I'll shut up now, sorry."

"You don't have to apologise," Finnick answers honestly. "Not to me."

Dahlia tentatively meets his eye. "Really?"

"Really."

Dahlia's tongue darts out to wet the edges of her lips. "Thank you."

Finnick's brows knit together. "For what?"

"For staying with me when you didn't have to. But mostly for being you."

A lump forms in Finnick's throat. He's used to being too much for everyone, so knowing that he doesn't have to dim his light for her makes something ache in his chest. For once in his life, he's lost for words, so he resorts back to the one thing he knows he excels in; flirting. "Are you going soft on me, Dahlia Holloway?"

She hits him with an embroidered pillow from the sofa and ducks her head to hide her smile. He sees it anyway. "Tell anyone and I'll kill you." She stretches her arms behind her head and stands to her feet, padding across the floor. She stops halfway across the room and turns to face him. "I have to get changed. Wait here for me?"

"'Course," Finnick answers, reaching for the remote control on the coffee table. There's not a lot to watch, unless you count the Capitol's propaganda as entertainment. He's flicking through the channels when an interview catches his attention.

Caesar Flickerman sits at a round table with a panel of media personnel. The headline written across the bottom of the screen reads, "Who's a real contender this year?"

"Yes, I think you're right. Johanna Mason is a strong contender. I could easily see her winning the Games this year," Caesar agrees. "But there's one person that I think every other tribute in that arena should be afraid of." He presses a button on a hand-held control and a picture flashes up on the screen behind him. "Dahlia Holloway. Victor of the 67th Hunger Games."

Finnick's finger hovers over the skip button, but something stops him from pressing it. Maybe it's Cordelia's words about her being dead weight. Maybe it's the fact that he's never really been told what exactly went down in Dahlia's games. Maybe it's morbid curiosity. He doesn't know. What he does know is that he keeps watching.

A chorus of agreements break out from the panel of interviewers but a stout man on the far right shakes his head and leans into his microphone. "She's from District Nine, so trust me when I say that I don't think this year's tributes have anything to worry about. She's not a threat."

Finnick quirks a brow.

Some of the interviewers laugh.

Caesar looks at him as if he's grown three heads. "You think that she is not a threat?" he repeats. The man nods. "Gregory, forgive me for being crass, but are you out of your fucking mind?"

Gregory rears back as if he's been slapped across the face.

"The Capitol love her, don't we, ladies and gents?" Caesar prompts. The live audience erupt into cheers. "Do you know why they call her the Angel of Death?" He's met with silence. "Her district partner was killed and something seemed to snap in that pretty little head of hers. That arena was a bloodbath because of her. She killed thirteen tributes, some with her bare hands."

Nova Castor, an interviewer that Finnick recognises from his time spent in the Capitol, chimes in. "Didn't they say that she never fully got her sanity back?" She shuffles through a stack of papers, licks her pointer finger, and reads from a page. "According to an inside source, 'Dahlia is unstable and a danger to others.'"

"That's the rumour," Caesar says.

"Those assholes will say anything to sell a story," Wyatt pipes up as he crosses the room and sits in a velvet armchair. Finnick shuts off the television and Wyatt throws a piece of popcorn into the air before catching it in his mouth. "Don't stop on my account," he says through a mouth full of food.

"I wasn't-- I don't believe any of that!" Finnick insists.

"I know. I just like watching you squirm.”

Finnick scoffs and rolls his shoulders back. "You're a sadist."

"I've been told," Wyatt answers, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "So, loverboy, what're ya doing here?"

Finnick juts his chin out defiantly and rolls his shoulders back to make himself appear taller than he is. He knows Wyatt isn't preparing for a fight, and neither is he, honestly, but after growing up in a career district, he can't afford to be caught off guard, either. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

Suppressing a laugh, Wyatt holds his hands up in surrender. "Look, I'm trying to be civil here, for Dahlia's sake more than my own. She likes you, and she'd have my head on a pike if I told you to go fuck yourself like I really want to." He straightens up in his chair, yet his ankles stay crossed on the coffee table. "Dahlia's a good girl. She's been through her fair share of trials. So, if you hurt her, you can forget the arena-- it'll be me you'll answer to."

"Is that a threat?" Finnick muses with a grin.

"No. It's a promise."

"Pack it in, will you?" Dahlia snaps as she leans against a marble pillar that separates the living room from the dining room. "If you really have my best interests at heart, you'll stop abusing my fake boyfriend and get your ass up so we can get a move on." He slams the popcorn bowl down onto the coffee table with more force than necessary. "And lose the attitude."

"Yes, ma'am," Wyatt teases, offering her a mock salute.

Dahlia marches towards the glass elevator and presses the button. It opens almost immediately, and Wyatt hops inside, holding the doors open. She glares over her shoulder and arches a sharp brow in Finnick's general direction. "Are you coming or what?"

Like a dog being called by its master, he jumps up from the sofa, slipping and sliding across the wooden floorboards in shoes that clearly have no solid grip on them. He brushes his blonde hair out of his face and clears his throat to fill the silence while the elevator drops down nine floors to the basement, where their private training sessions are to be held.

Despite being earlier than necessary, they are still the last to arrive. Everyone's eyes flit to them and Finnick can feel Dahlia stiffen beside him. Gently, he intertwines their fingers together, offers her a small smile, and tells her that she's safe. "Just focus on me, yeah?"

Dahlia sucks in a deep breath and gives him a rigid, barely there, nod of her head. Her hand grips his like a vice as they venture further into the room. The Careers are analysing their movements, and Dahlia can feel them watching her, which does little to soothe her paranoia.

Thankfully, her distraction comes in the form of an old woman with a gummy smile and thinning grey hair. Finnick leans down and presses a chaste kiss to her cheek as a way of greeting, and the woman grabs Dahlia by the hand. Her grip is gentle but she still has to supress a wince; she's not used to being touched so much.

"You must be Mags," Dahlia smiles softly. "I'm Dahlia."

Mags raises her hand and spells something out with her fingers.

Finnick squeezes Dahlia's hand to get her attention. "She had a stroke a decade ago, so she uses sign language to communicate."

"Well, that's not a problem," Dahlia grins, loosening her hold on Finnick's hand and signing a few words to Mags. "I haven't signed in years, so I might be a bit slower than what you're used to, I'm sorry."

For the first time in years, Mags' face lights up like a Christmas tree. She waves Dahlia's apology off and loops her arm through hers, leading her to sit down in the waiting area. Cashmere offers her a small smile as she sits down, and it eases her nerves ever so slightly. Mags ropes her into a conversation and as the tributes are called in one by one, she finds herself relaxing.

Mags strokes Dahlia's hair before she's beckoned into the training facility.

Finnick barely gives the door a chance to close behind Mags before he asks, "How do you know how to sign?"

Dahlia draws her bottom lip between her teeth and drops her voice an octave so no one else can eavesdrop. Finnick leans in close so he can hear her. "My sister, Ivy, she doesn't speak, so we had to learn other ways to talk to her."

"Is she an Avox?" Finnick wonders. Dahlia flinches and he immediately backtracks. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry."

She shakes her head. "You don't have to apologise. Ivy hasn't spoke for the better part of eight years, but she's not an Avox. She just... doesn't speak. Or won't, I guess." Her tongue darts out to wet the edges of her lips. "She saw my mom and dad die," she admits quietly. "She hasn't spoke since. They say it's a trauma response or something. Just another thing I fucked up," she laughs bitterly.

Finnick angles his head to meet her eye. "It's not your fault." He gently reaches out and tilts her chin up with his pointer finger and thumb. "You can't blame yourself for that, you hear me? I'm sure Ivy doesn't blame you, either."

Dahlia opens her mouth to ask him how he knows that for sure, when his name is called over the speakers. "Good luck," she smiles softly. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Finnick sneaks a quick kiss onto her cheek and throws a wink over his shoulder on his way out of the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Johanna Mason throws herself into the free seat on Dahlia's right. "Why weren't you in training for the first day? I was looking for you," she says, running a hand through her short red and black hair.

"I haven't seen you in the better part of a year and the first thing you want to do is interrogate me?"

Johanna points her finger in Dahlia's face and makes a circular motion. "Stop deflecting. Where were you?" 

Dahlia tongues the inside of her cheek. She often forgets that Johanna can read her like a book; they are best friends, after all. Okay, best friends that haven't seen each other in months, but her point still stands. "I wasn't feeling well."

Johanna cocks her head to one side, narrowed eyes surveying her face for any sign that she may be lying. Dahlia can almost see the lightbulb appearing over her head. "Don't tell me you let that man get you knocked up already."

Dahlia's jaw drops and she socks Johanna in the arm. "You fucking bitch!"

Johanna throws her head back in a laugh that borders on psychotic. "You are so easy to rile up."

As the tributes from district five and six are called in, Johanna keeps her thoroughly entertained by detailing the latest drama from her town back in district seven. The announcer calls her name over the speaker and she ruffles Dahlia's hair, telling her how they must catch up before they are sent to their imminent deaths.

Cecelia and Woof from eight disappear through the door and then it's Wyatt's time to shine. She wishes him good luck and focuses on steadying her breathing. Her tremors are back, and there's a part of her that knows they won't go away until she's calmed back down again, so there's not a chance in hell that they'll be gone by the time she stands in front of the Game makers.

"Dahlia Holloway."

Her heart hammers hard against the sleek fabric of her training outfit as she pulls the door open, ignoring the way the hinges creak in protest. This section of the basement is more modern, with high ceilings and, like the other training centre, an apartment that looks down over the gym.

She can feel Plutarch tracking her every move with his eyes, almost as if he's challenging her, seeing if she still has what it takes to keep Katniss safe in the arena. An array of weapons sit on a fold-away table and her lithe fingers skim the handles of the sickles. She picks one up and slices it through the air, trying to get back into the swing of things again.

Her panic makes her dizzy, but she refuses to let that fear show. Instead, she struts towards a box that can make holograms appear. She toys with the settings for a minute or two, two sickles that she chose hanging limply by her side.

The lights inside of the simulation booth must be sensitive to motion because the second Dahlia steps inside, the overhead lights dim, plunging her into complete and utter darkness before gold strip lights kick into action. She has barely enough time to tighten her grip on the sickle before a bright-orange hologram charges at her with a sword aimed straight for her heart.

Dahlia drops her weight to the ground, swiping her weapon through the air and separating the hologram's ankle from its body. She plunges her sickle into its chest and watches as it dissolves into tiny orange cubes.

Another hologram appears out of thin air, pulling back the string of it's bow and letting an arrow go. Dahlia slices the arrow in half, splitting it down the middle and throwing one of the sickles. It flies through the air and lodges itself into the hologram's neck.

As she knocks down holograms like bowling balls, she slowly relaxes into the familiarity of it all; the feeling of the sickle grounding her, the handle digging into her hand and leaving the imprint of the Capitol seal in her palm. Her hair grows damp with sweat, and by the time the holograms disappear for the final time, she's managed to kill thirty-three of them in total.

Dahlia drops the sickles and keels over, hands bracing her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Once she's sure her stomach isn't going to empty its contents all over the floor, she stands up tall and walks out of the simulation booth.

Plutarch meets her eye across the room and Dahlia tilts her head higher, silently challenging him to tell her that she's not good enough after a performance like that.

A smile stretches across his face, and he nods his head once.

Dahlia turns on her heel and leaves.

˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚

Dahlia is called out on a last-minute "business meeting" in the Capitol and does not return home until three o'clock the next morning.

She avoids the ninth floor altogether and heads straight for the roof.  As the elevator doors part on the rooftop, she flings her stilettos to one side and walks towards the ledge, barefoot, despite the fact that temperatures are likely below zero.

Her exhaling breaths come out in a cloud of cold air as she sits on the ledge, legs dangling off the side. The elevator doors beep again, announcing someone's presence, but she can't be bothered to see who it is. "What do you want, Finnick?"

He hoists himself up and sits on the ledge beside her. "How did you know it was me?"

"You always seem to be following me around."

He chuckles under his breath and it makes her smile. "You got a ten in your training."

"What did you get?" Dahlia wonders aloud.

"Eleven." He pauses. "You weren't gonna jump, were you?"

Dahlia shakes her head softly. "No, Finn, I wasn't going to jump. I just wanted to go somewhere where I wouldn't be interrogated." His brows knit together in confusion and she finally looks at him. "I was with a client. Malaki always waits up to make sure I get home alright."

Finnick keeps his hand in Dahlia's peripheral vision when he reaches up and brushes his thumb over the bruise blossoming across the apple of her cheek. "What's his name? The client?" Dahlia drops her gaze and he tilts her chin up with his pointer finger. "Give me a name."

She quirks a sharp brow. "Why? What are you going to do? Kill him?"

Finnick shrugs non-committedly. "If you want me to." She smiles sadly and he knows what that look means. There's nothing anyone can do, even you. He threads his fingers through his golden locks in frustration. "I hate seeing you hurt."

Dahlia scoffs. "Don't tell me you're growing fond of me."

Finnick knocks his shoulder into hers. "And so what if I am?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. People I love have a tendency to get hurt."

"So, you love me now?" he teases.

Dahlia throws her head back in a laugh. "Watch it. I'll push you off if you keep it up."

"No, you won't."

"What makes you so sure of that?”

"Because you love me."

[starskq]

CONVENIENCE STORE / P.S

Pairing ◊ seeun x reader 

Warnings ◊ stress about exams? I think that's about it  

Word Count ◊ 1,52k

Genre ◊ Fluff

Summary ◊ Seeun missed you, so he came in front of your apartment in the middle of the night. 

a/n: honestly, theses pictures screamed boyfriend material. So I wrote something about it. Hope you enjoy!

You tossed and turned in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the soft sounds of your roommates’ snores filled the room. You were exhausted, but sleep refused to come. You sighed and picked up your phone to check the time—2:56 a.m. Just as you were about to put it down, your screen lit up with a message. 

[Seeun-ie] You awake? 

You blinked at the message, your heart flipping. You and Seeun weren’t an item but weren’t just friends. You were in a weird in-between. You met through mutual friends, and even if he was younger than you by a couple of years, you still got along excellent. You typed an answer quickly. 

[You] Yeah. Can’t sleep. 

[Seeun-ie] Come outside. 

Your eyebrows shot in surprise. You hopped out of bed and tiptoed to the windows. You peeked through and saw Seeun in a thin blue button-up and a black jacket looking at you. When he saw you, he smiled and waved. You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

[You] What are you doing here ??? It’s almost 3 am. 

[Seeun-ie] Wanted to see you. Now come down. 

Sighing, you threw on a hoodie and sweatpants and quietly slipped, careful not to wake your roommates. As you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you, and you walked toward Seeun, who greeted you with his signature smirk. He slipped his headphones around his neck and waved at you. 

‘’You know it’s almost 3 in the morning, right?’’ You said as you put your hands in your pockets. 

‘’Of course I do,’’ he shrugged nonchalantly. ‘’I wanted to see you. And I was hungry. Let’s go to the convenience store.’’ 

You rolled your eyes but followed him as he walked towards the convenience store down the street from your apartment. You couldn’t help the sale spreading across your face as you looked at him. Even under the street lights, he was breathtaking. 

‘’You’re unbelievable,’’ you said, shaking your head. 

‘’I know,’’ he smirked, turning his face to look at you. ‘’But you love it.’’ 

You fell into an easy rhythm of banter and jokes, defining your relationship. He was confident, arrogant, and cocky, but that was part of his charms. 

‘’Did you really just wake up and think, ‘Oh, I should see y/n right now?’’’ You asked, eyebrows raised. 

‘’Nope,’’ he replied, pushing open the convenience store door. ‘’I haven’t slept yet. Too busy thinking about you.’’  

You snorted, giving him a look. ‘’Oh, please. How many girls did you use that line on?’’ 

He held up his hands in mock offense. ‘’Just you, I swear. I’m a changed man.’’ 

You shook your head again. You wandered the aisles, grabbing snacks and drinks. As you made your way to the register, you reached for your wallet in your hoodie pocket to pay, but Seeun swiftly blocked your hand. ‘’No way. I’m paying.’’ 

‘’I’m older, I should pay.’’ You argued, tilting your head to look at him. 

He shook his head and handed cash to the cashier. ‘’I dragged you here. The least I should do is pay.’’ 

You rolled your eyes again but let him have this one. You sat at one of the small tables outside, digging into your snacks. The city was quiet, and the night was cool. 

‘’Remember that time you thought you could out-eat me in spicy ramen?’’ Seeun said as he bit into his sandwich. 

You laughed. ‘’I could I forgot. I still can’t believe you didn’t shed a single tear.’’ 

‘’I told you, I’m immune to spice.’’ He said a cocky grin on his face. ‘’Unlike some people.’’ 

‘’Ya, I can handle spice.’’ You protested, pointing a chip at him. 

‘’Sure you can,’’ he chuckled. ‘’That’s why you drank an entire gallon of milk after.’’ 

You both bursted out laughing. That’s what you loved with Seeun. It was easy. You continued to talk and joke, the banter flowing easily. As the first light of dawn began to paint the sky pink and orange, you shivered slightly. The early morning chill was starting to creep in. Seeun noticed, and, with a dramatic sigh, he shrugged off his jacket. 

‘’Here, take this.’’ He said, draping it over your shoulders before you could protest. 

‘’I’m fine, really,’’ you started to say, but he held up a hand, silencing you. 

‘’Just accept my chivalry for once, will you?’’ He said, smirking. ‘’Besides, I can’t have you catching a cold and blaming it on me. My reputation will be ruined.’’ 

You rolled your eyes but pulled the jacket tighter around you, appreciating the warmth. The jacket still had a feigned cologne scent, and a smile tugged at your lips. You leaned back in your chair, sighing. ‘’You know, I really needed this. Thanks for dragging me out.’’ 

Seeun smiled. It wasn’t his usual smirk, though. It was a sincere and honest smile. He loved knowing he was useful and made you feel better. He knew you had been stressed recently with school and everything and that you couldn’t sleep when you were stressed. 

‘’Anytime,’’ he said, taking a sip of his lemonade. ‘’I mean, I am pretty great company.’’ 

‘’There he is,’’ you smiled. ‘’The arrogant Park Seeun I know.’’

‘’Admit it, you love it,’’ he said, gently squeezing your arm. 

‘’Maybe,’’ you admitted, turning your head to look at him, a playful smile on your lips. ‘’Just a little, though.’’ 

Your phone rang with the alarm you set the day before. It was already late or early morning, so you needed to head back to your apartment to prepare for class. You sighed and stood up, stretching and gathering your things. You looked at him as he threw away all of your trash, clinging to his jacket you still had. 

‘’I guess I have to go back.’’ 

‘’Yeah, you should probably start getting ready for class.’’ He said, a hint of reluctance in his voice. 

You started walking back to your apartment. As you reached your building, he stopped and turned to face you, his usual confident smirk in place. 

‘’Thanks for the jacket,’’ you said, looking up at him. 

‘’No problem,’’ he said, leaning casually against the wall next to your building door. ‘’I can’t have you freeze to death. Who would I bother in the middle of the night?’’ 

You laughed, shaking your head. There was a brief pause, and his expression softened slightly, though his confidence remained. ‘’Hey, next time you’re feeling stressed about finals and exams, even if it’s late at night, you can call me.’’ 

You blinked in surprise, taken aback. ‘’How did you know I was stressed about that? I didn’t say anything.’’

He shrugged and bent down to be eye level with you, his eyes locking with yours. There was a sincerity in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. ‘’I know you, y/n. I know that when you’re stressed, you can’t sleep. And you haven’t been sleeping well, have you?’’ He said, brushing a hair of you bang to the side. 

Your heart flutters at his words. His noticing something so personal and caring enough to act on it made your heart swell. You blushed and quickly looked away, taking a step back. ‘’I…’’ 

‘’Don’t get all emotional on me now,’’ he interrupted, straightening himself with a teasing grin. ‘’I’m just saying, if you need to talk or need a distraction, I’m here. Not only at night.’’ 

You smiled. ‘’Thank you, Seeun. It means a lot.’’ 

‘’I know,’’ he said arrogantly, but his eyes were soft. ‘’After all, who else would put up with me at 3 am.’’ 

You laughed, nodding slightly. ‘’You’re right, no one else would.’’ 

He chuckled and stepped closer once again, lowering his voice slightly. ‘’Seriously though, I don’t want you to stress all alone. If you need anything, call me. I mean it.’’

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice, and for a moment, you wondered where your relationship was going and if there was more than just a situationship. But you quickly pushed your thoughts aside, focusing on the present. 

‘’I will,’’ you promised, looking up at him. ‘’And thanks again for tonight.’’ 

‘’Anytime,’’ he replied. 

There was a brief pause, where you just stared into each other’s eyes. But you quickly cleared your throat, looking at the time on your phone. You sighed. ‘’I should probably get ready for class.’’ 

‘’Yeah, you probably should,’’  he agreed, though he made no move to leave. ‘’We don’t want you to fall asleep in the middle of a lecture.’’ 

‘’I’ll try not to,’’ you said, rolling your eyes.

‘’I’ll see you on campus, I guess.’’ He said, his eyes hopeful. 

‘’Of course.’’ 

With one last look, he turned and walked away, his confidence stride never faltering. You watched him go, a big smile on your face. You clutched at his jacket as you turned and headed back inside. 

[lvrsparadise]

'LUCKY' - M.S

synopsis - She's just lucky.

warnings! - Car accidents, kissing, angst, a wedding, profanity, this is the version of 'Fourth of July' where Y/N survives.

A/N - Thank you so much to @lizzzzz333 for putting this idea in my head. I love you for that. Hope this mends the hearts I broke with the original. ♡♡

I stand up from my spot on the couch and stretch.

I check the time on my phone and it's almost 3, me and Matt decided to go to dinner at 7.

"I should head home to get ready." I walk to the kitchen where Matt is sitting at the table and give him a kiss before walking to the front door and putting my shoes one. I yell out a 'bye love out' before walking out the door and to my car.

I was at a red light, one of the only cars on the road. I hear tires screeching from my left, and suddenly an old car is driving full speed. Right at me.

Next thing I know, I'm being tossed around and I'm pretty sure my car is rolling. Then everything goes black.

----

I'm waking up, with many bright lights in my face.

I groan at the brightness of the lights and try to move my hand to block it, but I'm met with a sharp pain from my right hand.

"Y/N?!"

"M-Matt?" My throat is dry, and my voice is hoarse when I speak.

My body feels numb, and like it's on fire all at the same time. My legs hurt, my entire right arm hurts, my head is pounding, I think I'm in a neck brace, even breathing kind of hurts.

I try to turn my head to look at Matt, but I'm met with another pain, but from my neck.

"What happened? Why does everything hurt?"

"Y/N, baby. You were in a car accident."

That's when it all hits me.

I was at a red light, and some guy was driving full speed towards me.

I cough, and it hurts. Bad.

"Fuck."

Everything hurts.

"You're going to be okay. The- the doctor said you'll make a full recovery."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I can hear the tears in his voice. I can feel tears on my own face. I can also very distantly feel Matt's hand holding my right one.

"So, I guess our date's postponed, huh?" I try to crack a joke and laugh at it but end up coughing.

I hear a quiet chuckle from Matt.

"Yeah." His voice sounds quiet, defeated, and almost as hoarse as mine.

"Do Nick and Chris know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I called them as soon as I got here."

"How long was I out?"

"A few hours. Nick and Chris are packing overnight bags for us and are going to stop by your place and get you a few things."

"That sounds great. I'm really thirsty. Like really, really thirsty."

I hear another chuckle from beside me and hear the chair he was sitting in creak as he stands up and walks towards the room door. Yelling out of it for a doctor and a nurse.

Now a doctor is standing over me, shining another really bright light in my eyes.

"Can you like not? My eyes hurt."

"Of course. I just need you to answer a few questions for me."

The nurse is adjusting my bed so I'm sitting up. And I can see Matt's face for the first time since I woke up. God am I glad to see his face.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Friday."

"The date?"

"July 4th, 2022."

"Very good. What's your name?"

"Y/N M/N L/N."

"And what's his name?" He points his pen to Matt.

"Matthew Sturniolo. My boyfriend."

"Excellent. Do you know what happened to you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Uh, I had just left Matt's house to get ready for our date and I was at a red light and some guy was driving full speed towards me."

"Alright. You have a broken shoulder, and wrist in your right arm. A sprained elbow on your left. Broke your collarbone. Shattered one of your kneecaps, twisted an ankle, broke the other one. And broke some ribs. You should make a full recovery within the next few months. I'm Dr. Singler and this is Nurse Bowen."

"Nice to meet you. No wonder everything hurts."

"If you need anything, press this button." The nurse points to a button on the armrest on the left side of the hospital bed.

I nod my head and watch as they walk out. I shift my eyes to Matt to look at him. His eyes are red and puffy from crying, tears tracks staining his cheeks. His brown hair disheveled from him probably running his hands through it.

I crack a smile, or the best attempt at a smile I can.

"Hi."

A tearfilled chuckle leaves his mouth.

"Hi. You look so pretty."

"Really? Because I feel like shit."

"I'm sure." He leans over me and kisses my forehead gently.

"Do you think it's possible to have an engagement party in a hospital?"

I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Another chuckle.

"Wait. Matt?"

He reaches into his jeans pocket and grabs out a small object, holding it up to my face. Not just any object. No. A ring.

"Matt..."

A smile takes over his features.

"Y/N, will you be my wife?"

"Matt. Yes. I would love to." I nod my head the best I can with the neck brace, without causing any pain.

--

After about an hour and a half of watching the TV and talking, Nick and Chris walk through the door.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you're okay."

I roll my eyes.

"I love you too Nick."

I look at Chris after Nick hugs me the best he can, and his eyes are also red. Well, all of their eyes are red and puffy.

"I'm okay Chris."

I can almost see him deflate in relief.

"How did you survive?" A wave of sadness washes over me at how broken, and quiet Chris's voice is.

Truth is, I don't know how I survived. I guess. it was just luck.

"I guess I'm just lucky."

"God. Don't do that ever again." He moves to me and just about smothers me with how close he's hugging me.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

I don't want to see them sad ever again after this. It hurts me how sad each of them look. Although Matt looks better from when I first laid my eyes on him earlier. But Nick and Chris, mainly Chris, look drained. Empty. But now better. As if seeing me made them instantly better.

Sniffles are all that's heard throughout the room, other than Friends, which is playing on the TV.

After a few episodes, the nurse from earlier, Nurse Bowen, walks back in. With a cart that has food on it.

Now that I think about it. I'm really hungry.

"I assumed you guys would be hungry."

"Yeah, no thank you." Nick smiles at the nurse and takes the cart from her so she can continue with her work and rolls it over to the bed.

"One of you is going to have to feed me. I can't move my arms."

"Not it." Chris and Nick say in unison, putting a finer n the tis of their noses, both looking at Matt, who just shakes his head with a chuckle.

--

After we've all eaten and gotten comfortable, it just quiets down in the room, all of us doing something.

Nick and Chris are on the pull-out by the window, and Matt cozied up next to me on the bed the best he can without getting in the way of any medical equipment or hurting me.

But really, just having him next to me is more than enough.

"This is not how I expected our 1 year to go."

"Me neither. But at least now you're my Fiancée."

I look at the ring he put on my left hand, with a smile.

"Yeah."

----

It took exactly 3 months for me to recover. But throughout the whole process, I had so many people by my side. So many.

Matt, his brothers, his parents, Nate, Laura, Madi, and Sab were all next to me the whole time.

Matt never once left my side. The only time he did, was to film a video with his brothers.

Wasn't the best process, but it led me here, sitting in the living room at Marylou and Jimmy house with Matt, picking out a venue for our wedding.

"I like the one that had the big window."

"Of course, you do dad."

"Oh wait, what about this one?" I click on the images of the venue.

It's outside, on the beach. Not too far from the house and has great scenery.

"I think I like this one more than the other outdoor option!"

"Me too."

I turn my head to look at Matt, who is currently analyzing the computer screen with the images of the beach venue.

"What do you think about it?"

"I think, that this one might take the cake for me." He turns his head and look at me as well, a smile on his face.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, it would match with the theme we want. Wouldn't it?"

I look at the screen again.

"Yeah. It would."

"So, is that the one?"

I turn my head to Marylou, who's sitting on my right, and smile.

"Yeah. This is the one."

"Perfect!"

--------

Took a whole year of planning, but it's finally time. Today is the biggest day of my life.

We're all staying at a hotel near the beach, and we're all divided into groups. The bridesmaids, maid of honor, and flower girl with me, and the best man and groomsmen with Matt.

Currently, people are running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to make sure everything is as it should be.

Sab, my maid of honor and best friend, is currently helping me into my dress. The ceremony starts in 2 and a half hours, and everyone is ready, but me.

After a lot of pulling on strings and adjusting stuff, my dress is fully on. And it feels different than when I tried it on in the shop. Way different.

After I get my makeup done and get accessorized, 30 minutes is left until the biggest moment ever.

Matt's dad is going to walk me down the aisle, seeing as I don't know my family, and I'm so nervous.

"Y/N, calm down!"

"I can't help it! Sab, I'm about to get married, I can't calm down. I'm jittery, nervous, and happy as fuck."

"I know. But can you at least try to calm down for me?"

I nod and look at the bouquet Matt and Sab picked out for me. Purple tiger lilies, red roses, and white tulips. I pick it up and hold it in front of me as I would walking down the aisle. Trying to find the best way to do it.

--

20 minutes go by and I'm getting more and more nervous. Sab left to touch up on herself and make sure all of the bridesmaids were ready as well. I've had to sit on my hands, so I don't start biting my freshly painted nails.

Doin' Time by Lana Del Rey is playing throughout the room, but the music is not helping me calm down. I take a few deep breaths before standing back up and re-checking my appearance in the wall-length mirrors.

I don't even want to think about what would've happened if I had died in that crash I was in back in July last year. But I didn't. And I'm so happy I didn't.

After about 5 or 6 minutes, the door opens and Marylou walks in.

"Sweetie, you look stunning."

"Thank you."

"God I can't believe you're going to be my daughter in-law. Now come on, get your veil on, grab your bouquet, and let's get this show on the road."

"Yes ma'am."

I smile at her as she puts my veil on me, which is actually her veil. It's my 'something borrowed'. I stand up and grab my bouquet, and look at myself in the mirror before walking out of the room I was in.

I'm immediately greeted by Jimmy, who looks like he's about to cry.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." I nod my head and link my right arm with his left arm. Marylou quickly walks to her seat, just as the music starts.

My stomach is doing acrobatics right now. My heart is pounding, and I feel no, so nervous. But in the best way possible.

As we walk the aisle, I see so many amazing people I met within the past two years in LA. I'm so glad I moved out here with them.

Finally, we make it to my soon-to-be husband, and Jimmy moves to his spot next to his wife.

I hand my bouquet to Sab and the officiant starts going on with the basics of the ceremony.

"Do you, Y/N M/N L/N, take Matthew Bernard Sturniolo as your lawful wedded husband?"

We all chuckle and make faces at Matt's middle name.

I nod and smile.

"I do."

"Do you, Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, take Y/N M/N L/N as your lawful wedded wife?"

"God yes. I do."

A tear falls down my face. I can't believe this is happening.

"You may kiss the bride."

His hands grab my waist at lightning speed, and we lean into what might possibly be the best kiss ever.

Everyone cheers and claps, but it's all faint. It feels like the first kiss all over again. Like we're back in his room in LA.

We pull back and turn to everyone with smiles.

I didn't really get to observe Matt while we were saying our vows, but now that I am, wow he looks good.

In a classic tux with the vest and everything. He kept his earrings in and his necklace on as well. Who knew him becoming my husband would make him look so much better?

Being here, and seeing him, makes me realize just how lucky I am.

Tags ! ✮

@dwntwn-strnlo ✮ @ssturniolo @strniolo ✮ @20nugs ✮ @prettysturniolo ✮

If you want to be added to the list, all you have to do is ask !! ✮

I love all of you guys !

And I hope you all have a wonderful day and / or night ✮

[teamconductors]

A Day Off: A PMD Lost Tracks of Time AU

Summary: During a weekend where the Battle Subway has shut down for maintenance, Ingo offers Mono a train trip, and Emmet wants to spend time with her at Nimbasa's amusement park.

Background: This is for the Swap AU (forgive the old art). After the events of LTOT, Sneasler is turned into a human and is sent back in time to Unova before Ingo got taken to Hisui.

In terms of timeline, this is after Sneasler aka Mono has established herself as a trainer, is roommates with Elesa, and got a job at the Battle Subway out of pity (or so she claims).

This is a long one. It could've been split, but I didn't want to.

Also, for clarity: Mono is Sneasler's name as a human. Everyone knows her as Mono, but the narration uses both Mono and Sneasler for her. Is that confusing? Maybe. But I'm too lazy to change it.

"Unbelievable," Sneasler said. She wished she figured out human technology by now. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't have entered Gear Station at the typical early morning time and saw signs blocking the entrance to her workplace.

"Good morning, Miss Mono!"

"Morning, Ingo." Sneasler turned to see Ingo, who lacked his black Subway Boss coat and hat but still wore his button shirt and pants. "I know I'm here because I messed up, I guess. But why are you here?"

"I need to make sure that maintenance occurs as smoothly as possible!" Ingo said. "That said, I only need to do periodic checks. After I complete this first morning check, would you like to accompany me for a train ride around Unova?"

"Just you? Emmet's not coming?" Sneasler almost asked about Elesa but stopped herself upon remembering that she left Nimbasa for a fashion show.

"Since I accepted the responsibility to watch over the Battle Subway, Emmet decided to try alternate routes for his weekend. We work together and have many common interests, but we don't always need to be a two-car train."

Sneasler turned her head so Ingo wouldn't see her cringe. Before she was kidnapped out of her time, Emmet had gotten better about going on separate missions without Ingo. But the literal and metaphorical scars remained. Once in a while, Emmet would suffer a panic attack if Ingo - or Eelektross or even her - were away for too long. He hated that it was still an issue, and so did she. One day I'm gonna kick Arceus' ass for the pain they caused, she thought.

She shook off the mental damage to continue her questioning. "Are you gonna be okay being gone from the station for a while? How long's the trip?"

"Less than two hours! We will return to Gear Station by the end, and there are no stops in between. This is purely a scenic trip!"

"...Okay. Why me?"

"Does there need to be a reason?" Ingo's eyes widened. "Wait, do you have another activity scheduled?"

Sneasler shrugged. Had she known, she could have at least slept in - though that's easier said than done, considering her recent insomnia. "Not really. Sure, I'll do a train ride."

"Excellent! Allow me to finish what I need to, and we will be off!" Ingo sped-walked past Mono before she could ask where she should wait.

---

Sneasler didn't wait long for Ingo. He led her to the wing of Gear Station she seldom visited beyond the her first day in Unova and ended up on a train. Unlike the Battle Subway's trains, they offered plenty of benches and tables for guests to rest at. She and Ingo took a car with no one else in it. Ingo chose a table, and Mono sat across from him, putting her basket next to her on the bench.

"Did you make that basket? It appears well-made and well-cared for," Ingo asked.

"Uh, thanks. It's... an heirloom," Mono said. This is going be a painful ride, isn't it?

The journey began. They started underground, but soon they popped out of a tunnel near Driftviel City. It was Sneasler's first time outside of Nimbasa. The mining city vaguely reminded her of the dungeons near Cobalt Coastlands.

Ingo interrupted Sneasler's musing. "Is something the matter, Miss Mono?"

Sneasler realized she had been staring at him. "Uh, no! I, uh, haven't been sleeping well. That's all."

"Oh, I'm sorry that you've been having such roadblocks. Is there anything I can can for you? Does your schedule need to be changed?"

"Nope, my work schedule is fine." Much to her chagrin, Ingo and Emmet trained Sneasler well to wake up at dawn. Even before then, she preferred mornings and daylight to night. "Don't worry about it, alright?"

"My job is to transport talented trainers to greater heights, and that includes the trainers helping us as well. On that topic, how are your pokemon doing? If I remember, your current team is a Croagunk, a Riolu, and a Whirlipede."

"Wow, you actually remembered that?" Does he usually remember different trainers' teams like that??

"Well, you only recently became a trainer, am I correct? Our guests who have battled against you certainly couldn't tell! You've been performing fantastically so far!"

Croagunk, Whirlipede, and Riolu fight well on their own. I'm just there pretending to guide them. "Got lucky, I guess."

"I don't think it's luck, Miss Mono."

I found Croagunk after he got abandoned by his trainer. Riolu was a stray on the outskirts of Nimbasa and needed a home. And meeting Whirlipede was an accident.

"Please do not discount yourself."

I'm not a trainer. I'm not supposed to be here.

"I think your journey has only just begun."

One of the doors opened. An Audino with a cart walked to Ingo and Mono's table. On top of the cart sat a kettle and bowls with colored packets, tiny cartons of liquid, and small sticks. On the secondary shelf were stacks of cups. "I have coffee!"

"Miss Mono, the coffee is complimentary. There's also a dining kart if you'd like to fuel yourself." Ingo took the cup Audino offer him. "Thank you very much," he said to the pokemon.

"Uh, thanks." Sneasler accepted her own cup. She stared at the dark liquid inside as Audino placed cups with packets and tiny cartons and a couple sticks on the table. She brought the cup to her nose and sniffed.

"Do you like coffee, Miss Mono?" Ingo asked as he prepared his own cup.

"Coffee, huh?" She sniffed again. It didn't smell bad. "I've seen Elesa drink this stuff, but I haven't yet."

"Really? I'm surprised."

"She's offered, but I just didn't feel like it. But, uh... here I go, I guess." Sneasler brought the cup to her lips and took in a mouthful of the liquid.

She slammed the cup to the table and covered her mouth with her hand lest she spit everything over poor Ingo.

"Are you alright?!" Ingo yelled loud enough that Audino, who left for another car, opened the door and ran to Ingo and Mono.

Sneasler waved at both Ingo and Audino with her free hand as she swallowed. "I'm fine! I'm fine!" She looked at Audino, who had placed her feelers on her chest. "No really, I'm alright."

"Okay... But I hope what's making you sad goes away..." Audino retracted her feelers and returned to the other car.

I heard that. "Sorry, Ingo. It was just really, really bitter, and I didn't expect it. Smelled and tasted really different."

"Hm, you do run into surprises in a journey sometimes. May I try something?" Ingo pointed to Mono's cup.

"If you want it, take it." Sneasler grabbed napkins and began wiping up the coffee that splashed out when she slammed the cup down.

Ingo grabbed a packet and a tiny carton and poured their contents into the cup. "I find black coffee too bitter to fully enjoy as well. That surprises people, but I'm not sure why." He stirred the mixture together with a stirring stick and then offered it to Mono. "I added cream and sugar to your drink, which is how I like it. I hope this is more palatable for you."

Sneasler glanced between Ingo and the cup. She grabbed the cup with a delicate hold and slowly took a sip. She braced for the bitterness, but the sweetness calmed down the bitterness like a Light Screen reducing a Psychic's damage. "That's not... terrible. I don't think I'll be drinking much coffee, though."

"That's alright! You need to know what works best for you, just like how you need to know how to keep a machine well-oiled!"

Sneasler chuckled. "Everything comes back to trains for you, huh?"

"Well, trains are fascinating! The way they're made, how they work, how precisely you can make schedules and get everyone to where they want at the right time! Why else would Emmet and I format a battle facility in a series of them? On that line of thought, why did you decide to work specifically at Gear Station? You said you weren't a pokemon trainer, so was there another reason?"

He's conveniently leaving out the part of our first meeting where I said I knew them, but okay. "I... Listen, I'm not that good with technology. I can get the gist of things, but it'll take me a bit to get used to them. But... I... I have two younger brothers that love trains." Sneasler's eyes widened as soon as she registered what she just said, but she could not take that back. "And... it's really nice to hear them excited. They've shown me books about them because they think it's fun to talk about them to someone who doesn't know squat. ...For a lot of reasons, I haven't been able to see them, and the Battle Subway... reminds me of them." She blinked more frequently as something welled behind her eyes.

Ingo's signature frown softened. "I see... Well, I'm glad to have you ride with us, and I hope you see your brothers soon."

"Me, too."

Ingo and Sneasler decided in silence to watch the view as their train passed by different areas. They breezed through forests, went through mountain tunnels and over bridges, and witnessed the sky turn from orange to blue. Ingo made comments about cities and landmarks but was clearly less energetic than before.

By the time they passed through Undella Town, Sneasler groaned, making Ingo jump. "Holy rift, I made this trip so awkward. I am so sorry."

"Please do not apologize! This has not been awkward for me, but does that mean it was awkward for you?" Ingo asked, frowning deeply.

"C'mon, stop deflecting. I can't believe you've always been like this."

"What do you mean?"

"It's been a bad trip, and you know it. I can see it in your face." Sneasler pointed at Ingo and traces circles in the air.

"Really? I've been told that I'm rather stiff..."

"Compared to Emmet, yeah, but... I can still see it." Sneasler sighed. "Maybe it would've been better if you just did this on your own."

ingo hummed. "If you hadn't been at Gear Station, I most likely would have gone on this train by myself. While that would have made for a fine trip, journeys are made better when shared with others." He looked into Mono's eyes. "Miss Mono, I know that Elesa has been a great help for you, but please also know that Emmet and I are here to help you move forward to your destination!"

Sneasler rested her head on her hands. "And dramatic as ever, too. I'll never understand how you always say stuff like that so sincerely."

"My job is to transport passengers along their journeys to greater heights. Why wouldn't I be happy about what I do?"

"The more you talk, the more you keep using Dig." Sneasler laughed as Ingo got more confused. "It's not a bad thing, Ingo. Don't change that part of you, okay?"

Ingo's eyes widened. "I... Thank you, Miss Mono. I shall do my best."

The rest of the trip was quiet, but with the air cleared, they watched the scenery change in comfort. Though fascinated with the shifting landscapes and cities, Sneasler took glances at Ingo. His human face was slightly harder for her to read than his Sneasel face, but he definitely relaxed into his seat.

Ingo said something about liking train rumbling, right? I guess that's why. ...Have I ever seen him like this? My ancestor definitely didn't. He doesn't really relax on vacations either. Maybe the warden and rescuer stuff takes more out of him than he wants to say? I know he enjoys it, but that responsibility...

I really am going to kick Arceus' ass one of these days.

***

When they returned to Gear Station, Ingo left to check on the status of maintenance, and Sneasler returned to her temporary home and take a nap. She didn't know why her body hurt more than normal. She decided to blame it on her weird human body.

Elesa described her apartment as small, but to Sneasler, it was massive compared to Ingo and Emmet's old tent at the Pearl Guild. She also gave Mono her own guest room, but the train ride tired her out so much that she crashed onto the rectangular but plush couch in the living room. She fell asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

The ringing of a bell woke Sneasler from her dreamless nap. She jumped to a sitting position, accidentally making Riolu and Croagunk fall off her and onto the floor.

"What the?" Sneasler cursed as she looked between the two dazed tiny pokemon and Whirlipede wrapped around her basket. "When did you guys get here?"

"Came outta our balls like an hour ago," Croagunk said.

"You looked comfy..." Riolu said.

The doorbell rang again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Sneasler combed her fingers through her hair to fix it. The ends curled back up to their usual position. She opened the door.

"I am Emmet. Hi there, Mono." Like Ingo, he did not wear his signature coat and hat, but his outfit was even more unfamiliar to Sneasler. His pants looked almost like normal ones, but the shirt had some sort of colorful floral pattern she didn't expect, let alone from him.

"Hi. Uh, if you're looking for Elesa, she's outta town right now," Sneasler said.

"I know. You have the day off, and so do I. Do you want to go somewhere with me?"

"First your brother, now you?! Is this some sort of new employee ritual thing, or...?"

"Not at all. I am just curious about you." Emmet smiled even more.

Sneasler sighed. "Alright, fine, I guess. Might as well. Why not?" She turned to her pokemon behind her. "You guys gonna be okay here?"

"You're not taking them with you?" Emmet stared intensely at Mono.

"Am... I supposed to?" Sneasler paused, then she added, "Are you gonna challenge me to a battle?!"

"Not today. For you safety, it is a good idea for pokemon trainers to have at least one pokemon with them at all times."

Why am I getting deja vu? "Alright. Everyone cool with coming with?" After a set of affirmative answers, she walked back to the couch where her basket rested next to. She kept her pokeballs inside, along with her hat and coat, the Toxic Plate, and other important items. "...Wait. Do you have a pokemon on you?"

"Of course!" Emmet said.

On cue, a Jotik popped his head out of the pocket on Emmet's shirt. "Hello!"

Sneasler stared at Emmet and Jotik in stunned silence. "Why am I surprised anymore?"

---

Emmet led Mono to Nimbasa City's amusement park while marching and swinging his arms straight, which was more impressive to witness compared to when he did it as a Sneasel.

"We have arrived at Ronde-View Ferris Wheel. Ronde-View Ferris Wheel," Emmet said while pointing at Mono.

"Elesa mentioned something about a "Ferris wheel". You just go around in a circle?" Sneasler asked.

"Correct. It is not a thrill ride, but they give us a good view of Nimbasa City. Are you afraid of heights?"

"No! I'm a rock climber, and you can't be a climber if you're afraid of heights!" Unless there's a bottomless Distortion World void beneath me, but that's just common sense.

"Rock climbing? Verrrry interesting." Emmet narrowed his eyes at Mono.

Sneasler narrowed her eyes back at him. "Yeah. Haven't done it in a while, though."

"Would you like to try today? A rock climbing wall was set up here recently."

"Wait, really? A wall that you just... climb? As a human?"

"'As a human'?" Emmet repeated.

"...Well, I'm just used to regular rocks and cliffs. That's all."

The ride operator stopped the wheel and let people exit a gondola. She approached the gate that Emmet and Mono stood at. "Hello! How many people do we have?"

"Two," Emmet said. "All aboard!"

The pokeball-shaped gondolas were large enough to fit at least four humans and maybe a few small pokemon. The pokeball designs were upside down, making the white half see-through for people to look out of. Mono stepped onto the gondola and got surprised when the floor gave under her weight.

"What the hell?!" Sneasler jumped backward, hitting Emmet with her basket. He quickly caught himself instead of falling.

"Oh, don't worry, Miss! Some of these cars can swing," the ride operator said. "If you'd like, you can wait behind the gate and the next car will stay still."

"That car would be preferable for both of us, I think. Please stand by, Mono," Emmet said, pointing to the line gate.

Sneasler reluctantly stood back and took the next gondola. To her relief, it remained still when she stepped onto it. She and Emmet took opposite seats. Once settled, the operator closed the door and started the ride.

"That was embarrassing," Sneasler said. "I just wanna say, I think the moving one would be fine. I just didn't expect it."

"You are fine, Mono. As I said, I like the cars that don't move. The wheel moves us, anyway." Emmet looked to their left. "I enjoy riding trains and running the Battle Subway. But I also like rides like this because I get a change in perspective."

"Change in perspective, huh?" Sneasler watched them slowly rise above the different buildings in the city. Previously, she could only get a view like this from climbing mountains or riding on Eelektross' back (though he couldn't for long). Not to mention that she mostly saw man-made buildings as ruins, as landmarks of times long past. Here, they were new and pristine.

"Now that our trip has begun, I need to ask you something," Emmet said. "Who are you?"

Sneasler blinked at him. "Is your memory alright? My name's Mono."

"You introduced yourself as Sneasler first."

Sneasler frowned. She mentally kicked herself for confusing Ingo and Emmet so much when they first saw each other. How was she supposed to know she ended up in Unova before Ingo went missing? "It's just a nickname. I mistook you two for someone else."

"Your nickname is the name of an extinct pokemon?"

"Extinct?!" No, wait, calm down! The Nobles weren't active when humans were around. Not extinct. Just in hiding. "I mean... yeah, weird name, it's a long story. And what does it matter?"

Emmet readjusted himself and leaned forward. "I'm just curious. You had a verrrry strong entrance. What is your goal? I want to see your track is going."

Sneasler groaned and put her head into her hands. "Why are you two like this? Ingo got done talking to me about basically the same thing!"

"Huh. I didn't know that. We took different lines but accidentally converged." Emmet smiled. "But I think he gets something different out of questions than I do. We see things differently, and that makes us strong together. I want to learn more! Where do you want your journey to go, Mono?"

"I..." Sneasler leaned back and lazily stared out the window to think. Talking with Ingo started this train of thought, and talking with Emmet needed to finish it.

I want to fucking go home. But I have no idea how to do that, so maybe if I get money, I can go to the Sinnoh region, find the Nobles of this era, and get them to help me. ...If I can find them. If they can get me in contact with Dialga or someone. Could they turn me back into a Sneasler? Ingo and Emmet kinda turned back, but they kinda didn't either. And there's no way I could become like what they are now!

"Mono?" Emmet asked. "Do you not have an answer? If so, that's fine. That's a valid feeling."

"No, I... I do, it's just..." There's no dungeons here. There's no Nobles or rescue teams or anything I know. I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know anything about being a trainer or being around humans. And just to top it all off, my body isn't mine anymore! Losing my memories would be a blessing at this point! Because at least I don't have to look at Emmet or Ingo and have them look back at me as a stranger!

The Ferris wheel stopped moving. Their gondola returned to ground level.

"Why are you crying?" Emmet reached into a different shirt pocket and offered Mono a tissue. "You really don't have to answer if you can't."

"Why do you care?! You don't even know me!" Sneasler stood up and grabbed her basket. She slammed open the cart and hopped over the exit gate. She looked down at the ground as she walked so that no one saw her tears.

She found a patch of grass and trees at the edge of the park. A shrill winding sound came from her basket, making her jump. Sneasler then nearly fall over as her basket got a heavy weight added inside that wasn't there before. After placing the basket down, she leaned on the tree and slid down to a sitting position. She covered her eyes with one hand.

"Sneasler?" Her Croagunk asked, having come out of his pokeball to face his trainer. "You wanna talk?"

"I am never gonna get used to that pokeball sound." She unlocked the latch on her basket and slapped the top off. "Why are you here?"

Croagunk popped his head out. "You're crying and stormed off from your friend and you're surprised I wanna ask why?"

Sneasler sighed. "Stop pretending you care. I only caught you so I could pretend I'm a trainer."

"You do realize that you totally are a pokemon trainer by now, between me and Riolu and Whirlipede?"

"I'm not a pokemon trainer!"

"Then what are you?"

"I... I don't know anymore, damn it! Like, I was just a Sneasel with a Noble mom. Then my mom died, I had to evolve to a Sneasler take over her title, which sounds great, but it's not! Because everyone wants you to be the ultimate rescuer with super strength and memories from past Nobles and other weird powers! And then a whole bunch of shit happened and everyone became convinced Ingo and Emmet are my younger brothers which is fine! I guess! Because pokemon and even the other Nobles started to respect me more!

"And then! AND THEN!" Sneasler took a deep breath. "Without an ounce of warning, I wake up! In a different time period! In a totally different world! I've never been around humans, I only have memories of them, and even THOSE are vague at best, and now I have to ACT like one?! I had claws for climbing, and now I have weak, soft fingers and nails that break under the slightest load! My back hurts if I carry my basket for too long which NEVER used to happen! I have to pretend to not know what every pokemon I hear is saying!" Sneasler pinched her cheeks. "And to top it all off, whoever did this to me decided to give me a face that looks like Ingo and Emmet's! But they don't know me! And they're the only people in this world I should know but I don't!"

Croagunk tilted his head to look at someone behind Mono and wave. "Hi there, Emmet."

Sneasler scrambled to standing position. Though absolutely terrified, she needed to see if Croagunk told the truth. Unfortunately for her, there Emmet stood, his face frozen and his smile open, wanting to say something but no sound coming out.

Sneasler recalled Uxie's description of when Arceus took Ingo: the world opened up below Ingo and Emmet. They were sucked down until the portal touched one of them and threw out the other. Since Arceus thought Ingo and Emmet were two of the same person, maybe they would think the same thing of her. If Arceus opened a portal right below her feet, she would fall in first and then touch the portal first and leave Emmet and Ingo alone. They're left behind while thinking they lost a weird employee. Nothing of value was lost. But that would mean she becomes a target of Chained Giratina. She could weather a blow if she was still a Sneasler, but as a weak, squishy human? She could die and be unable to return home. And Dialga would likely become upset at the time paradox this scenario would definitely make.

She would rather face an enraged Dialga than explain to Emmet what he just heard.

"...How much of that did you get?" Mono asked, voice just above a whisper.

"Not all of it, I think," Emmet said. "...Do you want another few days off? There's some new tech in Paldea. There's something about being able to feel what it's like to become a pokemon."

Sneasler's face started to turn red. "If I'm flying somewhere, I'd rather go someplace else." Namely, the Sinnoh region. "And right now? I'd rather go home. Just forget everything, okay? Forget everything I ever said, and I'm not bothering you or Ingo ever again, okay?!"

Emmet placed a hand on Mono's shoulder. "You are not the first human who wants to be a pokemon. I've thought about it when I was younger."

Sneasler facepalmed. Somehow, that's worse than if he found out the truth. But at least that means he's not paying attention to me "knowing" him. "Emmet. I'm asking a lot as someone you don't know well." She grabbed his shoulders. "But please don't tell people about this. It's... embarrassing."

"Sure." He presented the tissue that he tried to offer her before. "Once you are ready, do you want to try that rock climbing wall? Would that help you feel better?" Emmet pointed in the direction of the attraction.

Sneasler sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. She took his tissue and cleaned up the leftover tears. "It might, it might not, but you'll know either way, I guess??" She grabbed her basket, surprised it wasn't as heavy as before. Croagunk returned to the ball, I guess. "Let's go. All aboard, conductor."

A short walk later, Sneasler saw what Emmet talked about. Calling it a wall for climbing would be generous at best. It was maybe 15 meters high, adorned with candy-colored rocks, and surrounded by soft-looking mats.

"You sure it's for adults? Adult humans?" Sneasler asked. She imagined her mom using a wall like that to teach her how to climb.

"Of course it is." Before waiting for a reply, he walked to the line.

Oh. He just wants to try climbing. That's why he's still hanging out with me. May as well join him and make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Sneasler sighed and followed behind Emmet.

Different humans - some kids, some adults - stepped up for the opportunity to climb. They wrapped straps around their waists, which connected to a pulley and then to the operator's pokemon, a Sawk and a Throh. Some people didn't reach the top, but those that did rang a bell hanging there next to some Pidoves. The human running the area had a remote connected to a couple timers. Even small pokemon were allowed to give it a shot, though she noted that none of them were natural climbers.

"We're next. All aboard!" Emmet said as the gate opened to let them in.

"Do you know how to climb, Emmet?" Sneasler asked. The mats squished under her feet, confirming her suspicion of being soft.

"No, but trying could be fun!" Emmet smiled even more.

"Whoa, you already have a harness?" The operator asked, looking at Mono.

"Unbelievably, yes," Sneasler said. When she woke up in this world, she wore the coat and hat the twins gifted her and her basket that still contained the Poison Plate. All the other clothes she arrived in were already on her person: the shirt with a fluffy collar, pants, boots, and fake gemstone decorations. She didn't even know what the harness was until Elesa explained it.

The operator hooked her and Emmet to the safety system and then gave them tips for climbing that Sneasler did not listen to. She stared at her hands. This isn't gonna end well. There's too many humans around looking at us. Is it because of Emmet? I haven't tried climbing with this body yet, but I hate not having my claws. Is this how they felt in their Sneasel bodies?

"Uh, miss? Don't you want to take off your backpack?" the operator asked.

"Nope." Sneasler readjusted her basket for stability. "You ready, Emmet?"

Emmet nodded. "Follow the rules. Safe driving! Follow the schedule. Everybody smile!"

As soon as Emmet began reciting his mantra, Sneasler joined in without even thinking about it. When she realized what she was doing, she turned her head to Emmet, who stared back with wide eyes as he kept going. Sorry Emmet, you've said it so much that it burrowed into me.

"Check safety. Everything's ready! Aim for victory! All aboard!" Emmet and Mono finished together. The operator wisely decided to start the timer right then.

Sneasler jumped and grabbed two rocks. She tapped her nails against the colored rocks protruding from the gray wall, hearing and feeling an unnatural hardness and hollowness. Her fingers couldn't dig into the material. She placed her feet on two rocks, and even though she couldn't feel them through the boots, it was sturdy enough to support her weight.

One foot up. Her leg extended, and she grabbed higher rocks. Another step gave her more height. And another. The colored rocks looked like child's play, but they provided a clear, stable path despite their strange and varied shapes. Her body was weaker, but it possessed enough strength to keep her grip and climb at a steady pace. Even as the steepness increased, she was too focused to let it slip her up.

Before she knew, the bell hanged right above her head. With her feet and hands firmly planted, she grabbed the rope and rang the bell for all to hear.

"YES! I can still climb!" In Sneasler's elation, she lost her grip on the wall. She half-expected a certain ghost's Psychic to catch her, but instead, a tug on her harness indicated that the operator's pokemon held her rope, letting her hang in the air. Below her came claps and cheers, but she looked down to find one person in particular.

"You won! That was fun! You did great, Mono!" Emmet near-shouted. He managed to climb halfway up the wall, which Sneasler did not expect, given his thin frame. He let go of the wall without an ounce of fear.

When they were lowered and touched ground, the operator ran at Sneasler. "You climbed that wall in 15 seconds! That's a new record! What's your name, miss?"

"Uh... Mono." I could've done it in half that time if I was still a Sneasler.

"Thank you for climbing with us! Here's your prize!" The operator reached into a pack connected to his belt and pulled out four tickets.

Sneasler snatched the pieces of paper. "Free... Casteliacone... voucher?" She looked at Emmet. "The hell's a Casteliacone?"

"It's a soft serve ice cream. You can get them in Castelia City, which is south from Nimbasa City," Emmet said.

"Oh. Nice." She turned to the operator. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

After Mono and Emmet left the rock climbing area, they found a bench next to a dedicated space to let their pokemon roam. Besides the Joltik from his pocket, Emmet also let Archeops, Durant, and Crustle. Croagunk and Riolu hanged out in their own area, but Whirlipede ran with Archeops for a race - which Sneasler overheard.

"Do you feel better now, Mono?" Emmet asked.

"Kinda." Her fingertips turned red and tough from the exertion. She turned her palm around to stare at the design of her fingerless gloves. "...Sorry for getting mad at you."

"You're not the first. But that climb was amazing. I was hoping for a competition, but I completely lost. It was so fun!" Emmet said. "Yep. You're definitely someone I want to watch for more than one reason. These are the only three pokemon you have?"

"Yep. I have my hands pretty full right now. Why?" she asked, but she already knew what his answer would be.

"When you find a fourth, you should try working for me on the Doubles Line."

"...When? Not if?" Sneasler turned to Emmet and raised an eyebrow.

"Correct. And when you get stronger, you should face me in a battle - after you face 20 trainers first, that is." Emmet smiled even wider.

Sneasler sighed. "You really were always like this, too, huh?"

"Yes? One day, you should also tell us why you act so casually with me and my brother!"

"I said you needed to forget that!" Sneasler once again promised herself to kick the butt of Arceus and whoever is responsible for her predicament.

[insertdisc5]

Devlog #12: Localization Milestone and Key Art

Hello everyone! Welcome to this month’s devlog!

If you just stumbled upon this, I am Adrienne, also known as insertdisc5! I’m the developer, writer, artist, main programmer, etc of the game. The game being In Stars and Time, a timeloop RPG, which is also the next and final game in the START AGAIN series, following START AGAIN: a prologue (available here!). You can find out more about In Stars and Time here!!!

LET’S GET TO IT. This month has some localization news, as well as a breakdown on key art! What’s key art? Where do you use it? Can you eat it? Read and find out.

The first pass of the Japanese localization is done and implemented!!! You can play the whole game in Japanese from beginning to end now!!!

The next step now is the localization QA, where the localization team plays the game and makes sure the Japanese script works in context. The team got the script in an excel sheet and I tried my best to give context for scenes where I could, but playing through the game themselves allows them to get The Most Context. All Of The Context. So they can make changes to their localization so it can be the best!!!

That’s it for news. Other things are chugga-chugga-chuggin’ behind the scenes as well, and I can’t wait to share it all with you all!!!

Today’s topic-since-I-don’t-have-much-to-talk-about is: key art!

“Adrienne what on Earth is a ‘key art’” This above is the key art.

More generally (and keep in mind this is my layman self talking, I’m sure you could get a better answer elsewhere, but also you’re here, so you might as well learn something huh???), key art is The Big Art that games (and, I assume, other mediums???) use to show off their style and visuals in things such as store fronts, articles, and other such things. It’s Mario jumping in a cool way with his lil star buddy while the planets are behind him. It’s Kratos and Atreus on a boat. It’s sad Siffrin in the foreground, surrounded by stars, while his friends are having fun in the background. It’s The Art!!! It’s the first thing people see about your game!!! It needs to be cool and represent your game!!!

Here’s some examples of the key art being used for Steam store assets. Itch.io is very kind and asks for like 2 assets, but Steam asks for a whoopin’ 30 assets, all with different sizes and orientations, so it means one of the biggest things your key art should be is MODULAR AS HELL. From a massive 1440x3160 vertical banner to an itty-bitty 231x87 horizontal button (called a capsule, it’s the small banner above, and since it’s usually the first thing you see about a game it is THE MOST IMPORTANT ASSET), your key art needs to be ready for anything!!!

For the prologue, I did not plan for this very well. I learned pretty late in development that store assets for itch.io (and later, Steam) were gonna be a thing I should worry about, so I ended up deciding to use the title card art. Which, like, it worked out.

BUT! I had to redraw Siffrin to make sure their hat and body weren’t weirdly cut out, and had to remake the pixelly gradient like a thousand times for each asset to make sure it wouldn’t hide Siffrin’s face. And that’s without mentioning the hell I went through to make sure the massive title logo would fit. Why did I think “START AGAIN START AGAIN START AGAIN: a prologue” was a good title. It was so hard to make it fit in its entirety every time (because, of course, Steam asks you to show the logo in its entirety in every single asset). Why did I choose this title (I’m a Kingdom Hearts fan and my heart is rotten and thinks long titles are funny)

So since I went through hell with START AGAIN’s store assets, for ISAT I made sure to think about the key art way ahead of time teehee.

Every so often I become an absolute genius so I only had to sketch the key art once, as you can see above. You don’t need to understand it because I do and it’s all that matters. Teehee!

Here's the rough illustration! I made it to block out the shapes, and figure out where that dang logo would go. Once again, reminder: if you have text of any kind, figure out where it goes in the rough stage. Future you will thank you. I also had Siffrin look directly at the camera in this rough stage, and then figured. That it would look sadder. If Siffrin looked emo-ly to the side. I do like the look at the camera though. He Is Looking

To talk about The Meaning very quickly, I wanted to show Siffrin front and center, since the whole story is about them. And I wanted to show the whole party, but clearly separated from Siffrin- Siffrin is stuck in a time loop, feels completely apart from them, and I wanted to show that in the key art! With the expressions too- everyone else is happy or engaged in something, interacting with each other, while Siffrin is in his emo phase. And also stars everywhere. Because of course.

Here are all the layers I used- I made sure to draw them on a vector layer in Clip Studio Paint, which means the lines never become pixelated even if you zoom in a lot! As a side note, the full file for this is 4000x3000, which I thought would be too big, but is actually just the right size for all those dang assets.

I also made sure that Siffrin would look the most detailed, since I knew that while everyone could fit for the bigger pictures, for the itty-bitty small ones (or the extremely horizontal ones), I would only show off Siffrin’s face. MODULAR!!!!!

In the end this key art worked pretty well to make the store assets, but if I could talk to past me I would tell them. Make the circle bg taller so it’d fit the more vertical assets. And find a way to leave more space for the characters in the background. I had to remove them/rotate them/zoom them out very often because Siffrin hides them too much because Siffrin is just too dang big. But that’s still manageable, past me. You did a good job past me

So, TLDR, from my experience, what you need to keep in mind when making your key art is:

-make sure it has enough layers to be able to move things around as needed, but not so many layers that you become lost

-fun art that represents your game and its vibe well

-cool everywhere, but able to get by if you zoom in on one thing (which usually for ISAT’s assets is Siffrin’s face)

-able to work in a vertical and horizontal format and at many different sizes

I hope my key art made people interested enough in the game to try to find out more!!

That’s all I have to say for today! Let me know if you have any questions, or if there’s any aspect of the game development struggle you’d like me to talk about! See you next time!!!

AND DON’T FORGET TO WISHLIST THE GAME ON STEAM ALSO IT REALLY HELPS BECAUSE STEAM’S ALGORITHM IS MORE LIKELY TO SHOW OFF GAMES WITH A HIGH AMOUNT OF WISHLISTS THAT’S THE REASON WHY GAME DEVS ALWAYS ASK TO WISHLIST!!! OKAY BYE!!!!

[khruschevshoe]

OFMD Critique: Bad Faith, Fandom, and Respect

All right. You know what? Screw it. I saw one post I just cannot ignore anymore that encapsulated all of my problems with the fandom right now. Personal rant incoming.

I understand that there's a nuance to the discussion of season 2 of Our Flag Means Death, and that there are people going a little too far with both their critiques and their support of the show. But oh my God, I'm tired of being straw-manned and made fun of for legitimate critiques of the show.

I just used the block button on someone in this fandom for the first time. Some of you might think I'm overreacting for this, but I saw a post that I could not on any level stand. This person, who I will not name names of, because I'd rather just block them and never deal with their level of bad faith again, took their one legitimate criticism of those of us who critique the show, the back and forth on whether or not Izzy's death was homophobic or not, and used it as the first in a literal list of straw man critiques that no one I've read in the OFMD Critical tag has made (and I check it like once a day bc I like reading meta, sorry), proceeding to absolutely make fun of the legitimate critiques that people have of the show, parodying them in the worst possible ways. They took our legitimate critiques about everything from the sexist handling Zheng Yi Sao's character, the absolute ableism of the finale, the questionable optics of the handling of trauma, etc. and stretched them into things that they very much were not (two examples were that we were crying ableism bc of something to do with seagulls and that we thought the problem in the Stede&Zheng dynamic was the "emotional labor" involved).

Now I'm pretty sure this post was a joke. I *think* it was a joke. But how in the world am I supposed to feel comfortable in the main section of a fandom like this when the comments and replies to this post were full of people agreeing sincerely that this is what the critical section of the fandom is like? How am I supposed to feel when I just see people making fun of me for my analysis of the show? I love this show. I adore season 1 and I'm clearly still making fan related content (moodboards) for season 2 along with my critiques.

Sure, I vibe way more with fanfiction than the actual canon at this point, but I still genuinely engage with the show. And to have the critiques that I made in good faith, regarding issues that I sincerely care about such as ableism, sexism, homophobia, and the handling of trauma, made fun of and taken out of context and straw-manned to their extreme, makes me feel so absolutely unwelcome in this fandom.

Other than keeping up with the couple of fan series that I'm currently still reading, I don't know if I can stay in this fandom any longer. I can't say that I'm excited for the new season if this is the kind of response that any good faith critique of the show is going to get. I can't say that I feel safe or comfortable when there are this many people ready to dog pile on me for a critique I made with ACTUAL TEXTUAL EVIDENCE to back it up.

I would like to thank all the people who have been making excellent critiques of the show. Their meta-analysis is what got me into making my own critiques, which I was nervous about making in any other fandom. I don't think I've in any way tagged them all, but just a few I can remember off the top of my head. Go read their critiques/meta- it's really good!

@sky-fire-forever @carrymelikeimcute @blue-b-bro @bougiebutchbinch @treesofgreen @sixstepsaway @alex51324

And from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who has engaged with my mood boards or my critiques or anything else that I've made, as well as the amazing writers and artists in this fandom (such as @ruecrown, @aletterinthenameofsanity, @fool-for-luv, and @possumsmushroom). You guys have kept me going with my love for the show and engaging with it for a while now. Despite the stuff that is making me take a step back now, I really did love this while it lasted! I'm still planning on making a few more mood boards, but other than that, I'm going to take a step back from engaging.

Hope this post can spread enough support/joy your way to counteract the ache I'm currently feeling!

Sincerely,

Ashley (aka @khruschevshoe)

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

[19:57]

Tags and warnings: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader, not very relevant but, this is a non-idol au, elements of perv! Hyunjin, mentions of unconsensual voyeurism and photography, Dom! Reader, more subby! Hyunjin, foot fetish, foot grinding/mild cock stepping, dirty talk, degradation (m. receiving), stocking kink if you squint and mentioned oral sex.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Overtime is, easily, the bane of your existence. However, you need the money. There's a new apartment you've been eyeing for months now and, as much as you wish it would, you know the money isn't going to materialise in your lap out of thin air.

So, here you are.

Your eyes already burning with fatigue while you stare at your computer screen. Willing your brain to care about the numbers spread in front of you. The office is mostly dead. Everyone else opting to clock out hours ago, leaving you and the new hire to slave away at your respective desks. The joys of capitalism.

Speaking of which, Hyunjin remains steadfast in his concentration beside you. The sounds of him clicking away at his keyboard combined with the faint hums of the machinery on the floor all that keeps you company. You don't know how he remains so focused when you find your mind slipping away every few minutes. God, maybe you should just go home for the night. Your brain is turning to liquid in your skull.

"I'm going to take a little break. Maybe get some food. Would you like anything?" His question startles you enough that you nearly knock over your water bottle. Frankly, you're surprised he's spoken to you at all. In the weeks he's been here, Hyunjin tends to keep to himself for the most part. Not because he's reserved or has some sort of superiority complex, you've come to learn, it's more so because he's shy. Only piping up from time to time and, he seems to be the most comfortable around you.

His offer is sweet but, "No, thank you. I have some snacks in my bag and I have my water for now. Thank you though, Hyunjin," you respond with a small smile. The flush that rises to his cheeks is surprising but, he nods and scurries off before you can think about it too much.

Now, you're totally alone. The excel sheet your only companion.

You're close to finishing up this one anyway, luckily. A few final checks and you're free to work on the next one. Stretching your arms over your head, you cringe at the knots that have made themselves at home in the base of your neck. You can hear Minho's voice filtering through your brain clear as day. Nagging you to take better care of yourself.

Shoving thoughts of your fussy best friend aside, you can't help but, sneak a glance at Hyunjin's desk. Typically you'd be more than happy to wait for him to return so, you can compare sheets to ensure you're both on the right track. However, you're tired. And you want nothing more than to take a scorching shower and crawl into your sheets. So, you opt to be a little more proactive. Rolling your chair over to his desk until his screen is within your view. Some of his numbers are a little off but, they're mostly fine. He's picked up on the ropes pretty quickly. It's impressive, to say the least. However, a folder catches your eye before you can return to your desk.

It's simple. Titled 'Favourites' and nothing else but, there is something almost siren-esque that calls you to it. You know this isn't right. Yes, it's his work computer but, it's still his computer and he's entitled to some level of privacy on it. Minho has always said you're too nosy for your own good. It could be filled with his favourite tools to use for all you know.

The folder is not filled with tools. Not even a little bit.

You're stunned to see what appears to be hundreds of pictures. Pictures you're pretty damn certain are of you. Tonnes of pictures focused on your legs, your breasts straining against your button-up shirts at times and your heels. You're not even sure what to think, let alone feel. Your lips parted in shock while you scroll and scroll and scroll. When had taken all of this? How did you never notice? Why are they on his fucking work computer?

"Hey, I'm back. The line was a little longer than-" Hyunjin's words stop as soon as he sees you sitting at his desk. His brain taking a few very long moments to process your new position as well as what's filling his screen.

It's impressive how red he becomes within seconds. Looking for all the world that he'd much rather the Earth open up and swallow him whole than continue this tense interaction with you. Long fingers clutching his sandwich and coffee as a lifeline.

"I ca-can explain. I wasn't- this isn't- I'm-"

If someone had told you even a few hours ago that you'd be propped up on Hyunjin's desk with his bare cock pressed against your stocking clad feet, you would have thought they'd utterly lost their grasp on reality.

And yet, here you are.

Your panties cling to you in a way that is quickly growing uncomfortable but, that doesn't matter right now. Hyunjin's hair sticks to his already sweaty forehead. Previously neatly styled, dark locks now a mess while he pants with every jerk of his hips against the soles of your feet. Not meeting your eyes. His pretty cock bordering on painfully hard and copious amounts of pre-cum dribbling out of it. Every whine and moan hits you like a tidal wave. Everything about him just has to be so gorgeous, doesn't it?

"Jinnie," you drawl, adding pressure to your feet and smirking just the slightest bit when he chokes out a grasp at the sensation. Purposefully dragging your feet along his length and using your toes to toy with the sensitive underside of his head.

"I can-can't- please- " he gasps out, doubling over in his chair while his cock jerks dangerously against the pads of your feet but, you haven't had your fun yet.

"Are you already going to cum, Jinnie?" You ask with a faux pout and tilt of your head, adding even more pressure until the heat from his cock is searing your skin through the barrier of your stockings. "Gonna cum just from me using my feet to play with you? Isn't that a little pathetic?" The saccharine quality of your voice sends a shudder from the top of his head straight to his throbbing cock, more slick staining your beautiful stockings.

"Not-not gonna c-cum," he huffs out with a spark of determination in his voice despite the pitiful state he's in right now. As though you can't feel how hard he twitches when you begin to drag your feet along his length once more. As though the way he hunches over when you press and press and press isn't so blatantly obvious. Barely contained moans ringing out through the empty floor.

"Really?" You ask, biting your lip to hide the smile that threatens to split your face in half when you use your toes to stroke his tip, "Because I think your cock says otherwise. Are you really going to cum just from this? What a little pervert you are, Jinnie."

You don't fail to notice the way he whimpers when your mouth coils around the word 'pervert.' Oh. Looks like there's even more to your little coworker than meets the eye.

"Oh wow, not only are you a little freak who takes pictures of my feet to jerk off to but, you like when I'm mean to you too? You're more of a masochist than I thought," His face must be burning based on the flush you can see moving below his neckline. Cute. He doesn't respond verbally but, the way his hips jerk into your feet tells you all you need to know.

"You're such a disgusting pervert. I wonder how many times you snuck off during your breaks to touch yourself to the thought of me. Well, how is it, slut? Better than you imagined?" You enquire, the rush of having him crumble underneath you making you a little bit lightheaded. When he still doesn't answer you, this time, you choose to stop.

The way his head whips to meet you would be comical if he wasn't still incredibly hard underneath you and his teary eyes didn't cause your heart to rise to your throat.

"Pl-please, don't stop," he whines, lifting his hips up from his seat to desperately grind against your feet. The sight significantly worsens the state of your likely ruined panties. "This i-is better. So muc-much better. Yes, I'd sneak away to touch myself to y-you. Ah. I couldn't h-help it. You're so bea-beautiful and you're always fuck so nice to me," he rushes out and god, how could you not touch him after that?

"Something tells me you don't only like it when I'm nice to you," you muse before increasing the speed from earlier. Your blood roaring in your veins watching him start to crumble underneath every stroke of your feet, every bit of weight you press further and further onto him. "You like being a little, sick, perverse slut huh. My little perverse slut. Did you want me to see you? Find you cumming in your pants to fantasies of humping my feet like the pathetic, little loser you are?"

Much to your surprise, that's all it takes for Hyunjin to totally shatter. Your eyes widen and your heart thunders in your chest when broken moans fall from his plump lips. His eyes squeezing shut while his cock throbs against the bottoms of your feet, soiling them in rope after rope of his sticky cum. Gathering your bearings, you help him through it. Lightly dragging your messy soles against his cock until it has nothing more to give. His body jerks violently in overstimulation until you eventually stop, pulling away from him to let the man return to his body.

The sensation of his cum on your feet is a little odd but, it's worth it. He looks so beautifully fucked out slumped in his chair. Unfocused eyes staring up at the ceiling while his chest heaves with exertion. Sweat dripping from his cut jaw while his softened, slick cock rests against his work pants. You hope you'll remember the vision he provides for the rest of your life. Your clit throbs just from drinking him in.

Well, you don't see why you can't journey further down this rabbit hole. He came on your feet minutes ago. You're pretty certain the two of you have thoroughly stomped over any sense of propriety.

Fuck it.

"Hyunjin," you call, and you walls clench harshly when he turns his glazed over eyes your way. He's horribly unsubtle, and you don't miss the way his eyes linger on your chest before drifting to your spread thighs. You try not to smile too hard when he swallows. Loudly.

He's just so easy.

"Don't you want to take care of me too?" You ask with a pout, spreading your thighs further and tugging your pencil skirt higher until it bunches up at your waist. You're beyond wet. You've soaked through your stockings and you're sure he can tell.

"I'm so wet," you moan, dragging your fingers along your slit. A breathy gasp leaving your lips when you brush your clit, your eyes fluttering at barest hint of sensation.

The sounds of him rising from his chair and shuffling onto his knees forces your gaze to him. Heat simmering in the pit of your gut when you watch him shuffle closer to you until you can feel his laboured breaths hitting your skin. Large hands tentatively resting on your thighs as he makes himself more at home between your legs.

You don't think you've ever been wetter in your life than in this moment. His big, brown eyes glancing up at you while he presses light kisses to you over your stockings. Prompting soft mewls from you and your hips to unintentionally jolt against his mouth.

Maybe overtime isn't so bad after all.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Downtime

Hello Hux fans, I come with yet another Singularity offering ^^ This was meant to be a suggestive/smutty one but it went a whole other route towards the end. Maybe I just want so much fluff with Hux and I accidently go that route every time...

Anyways, hope you guys enjoy! I feel like this went in so many directions and I screwed it up a lot lmao. I'm off to write for his chapter series now!

Which btw a little context for this fic without spoiling too much(which you will see more of in this next chapter series): Reader is a friend of Gabriel's, they knew each other Pre-Entity and they were a robotics engineer. They didnt't create Hux but helped a co-worker with his former self (who is briefly referred to as 13). Reader has a prosthetic arm due to an accident they endured before coming into the Entity's realm. I think that should do?

Words: 3003

Hux, like any other robot, struggled to properly demonstrate any kind of emotion, or at least in his case he didn’t exactly care enough to display what he felt.  His nonchalance was something he definitely excelled at, and when he wasn’t being apathetic he would show his disapproval during a trial. Or when Gabriel’s name just so happened to escape your lips mid-conversation. Or even when your friend happened to be in the same realm as you, apparently no close proximity was even required for that. 

It felt so unfortunate just how impossible it basically was to coax out some kind of positive, or any non negative or uncaring, reaction from Hux. One who really knew what went on between the two of you behind curtains could disagree and say that the private moments you shared with the former cobot differed, but even then Hux was his typical unemotional self with a few short circuits every now and then.

Quite frequently you had the same thought circle through your mind…what was it that could possibly make a being like Hux squirm? 

And you currently pondered at the question as you sat on top of a closed crate beside the robot, somehow having convinced him to be seated on another despite how awkward the position felt for him. 

In your dominant hand you had a wrench, one that you used on Hux’s left arm that was held in your other hand. You were thankful his limb was light in weight, for you focused on tightening the locknut that connected his engine fuel line from his upper arm to the mechanical block near his projectile claw. Once you were done with that nut you set the wrench back inside the toolbox you found within the Huxlee Caracas III, taking a moment to examine Hux’s claw more closely. In spite of the several times you had gotten to embrace or even have the smallest of holds on Hux, you didn’t ever get the chance to properly inspect him like you did now. But you at least knew his every ins and outs, even if he had drastically changed his form.

“A hex socket screwdriver is required to fasten the hex button head screws.” Hux pointed out before you gave a slight chuckle.

“I know, I made sure to use that specific head for you.” you admired his three claws, attaching the screwdriver you took from your toolbox to one of Hux’s screws that had begun to loosen up. As “perfect” as Hux was, it seemed that the Entity momentarily slacked off with Hux’s condition. “I’m glad you kept the same kind of bolts, very smart of you in fact.”

You glanced up from Hux’s arm, somewhat hoping the tiny flattery made him budge even just a bit. But to your misfortune, he merely stared ahead into the emptiness of the room.

“Is this blood on your metal, or are you becoming a bit rusty?” you resumed your conversation after fixing the second screw, taking a moment to eye the brown-ish coloring coating his limb’s surface.

“Collecting genetic material and ridding this realm of its infinitesimal worms can not be completed without a mess. At least it is done fast.” Hux retrieved his claw from your hold to have it hover in front of his visor, admiring your simple work. “Vital fluid from J15L19 appears to stain my claw.”

Oh boy…here he goes.

“Well maybe if you weren’t so focused on targeting Gabriel who’s learning more and more about you every time, then maybe your body wouldn’t be coming apart so easily.” you posited as you stood up, very well knowing that Hux shot you what could be considered a glare. “Some powder or organic coating, and I don’t mean human, might do your claws some good. Though I honestly am not sure what to recommend for this metal I don’t understand yet.”

“This alien metal is too advanced for feeble Earth minds to understand.”

“Reminder that I wasn’t born on Earth, Huxlee. Cut me some slack at least.”

“You were born on Proxima Centauri A.” Hux added before a soft smile came upon your features, and you turned to him to see that his vexation seemed to have disappeared rather fast. “We are finished.” 

Of course you were, conversations tended to be quite short between the two of you if the topic at hand was not to Hux’s interest. Somehow you believed that karma had come back to bite you in the ass after the numerous times you unintentionally pushed Gabriel away when work got the best of you. 

So the moment you felt your smile begin to falter, you instantly stood from your spot before returning your screwdriver to its place inside the toolbox. You promptly closed the box and picked it up, soon turning on your heel to make your way towards the designated sleeping area where you typically left whatever belongings the Entity allowed you to keep. But before you were able to do that, something definitely seemed off. 

“Why are you leaving?”

Much to your surprise, you caught sight of Hux who remained sitting on his crate while he looked at you with as much puzzlement as a robot could display. 

“I thought we were done.”

“Negative.” Hux expressed with a twitch of his head, now observing as you returned to his location and stood before him. 

“So what’d I miss?”

Hux gave no response other than his head tilting to the side, watching you set down your toolbox before he finally lifted his singular claw. You felt the sharp weapon go around and behind you, gingerly pushing you towards his seated form until your face was mere inches away from his visor.

“Oh,” a quiet chuckle came from your lips that curved into a soft smile, meanwhile your hands reached up to take hold of his head. “I forgot.” 

How dare you forget his special treatment? The very same he received any time you left his presence?

“Don’t forget. Be better.” Hux’s red lights dimmed down almost as if he were shutting his eyes the moment your lips touched the middle of his visor, immediately lighting back up once you released him. Clearly much to his disappointment. 

“I thought you’d only want one.” you teased, now feeling his claw shove you further into his form. You propped your knee up onto the space between his legs, leaning your head to the side to then kiss the circular piece connected on the left of his visor. Once again your hands came upwards, but this time around your left held onto the machinery bit of his right arm. Meanwhile, your non-artificial hand was careful not to interact with the alien crystal on his left side, instead placing itself closer to what was his neck. “Are two enough?”

“Negative.”

You brought your body even closer to his before connecting your lips near his gaping mouth and then on the flesh near his neck, sliding your right hand down from his neck to his miniature monitor. But there was soon a surge of surprise in you when you felt Hux writhe and twitch intensely in your hold, forcing you to jump back and release him. Clearly that was a sensitive area.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” you began to remove your leg from the crate he sat on to create a proper space between the two of you, but you instantly felt as Hux’s claw pushed you back into him. “Hux?”

“Don’t. Leave.” He almost tried to intimidate you while your body was pressed against his form, practically forced onto him. This made you place your hands on his chest while being careful with his protruding machinery. “Proceed.”

The command had you rather stunned as you stared directly into Hux’s red orbs, unconsciously gripping onto the flesh of his chest as he gave a few more spasms. Slowly your hands glided over his skin, feeling every groove and vein they passed which you realized made the robot lean back as if to get comfortable. His head followed his actions as you touched the area leading up to his neck, giving a gentle squeeze which resulted in another spasm, this time from his leg.

After coming to the realms and learning of what had become of your precious 13, it really did stagger you to know that he had found a way to incorporate the sense of touch into his body. You had learned he had turned up every dial to the max, so his sensations were much stronger than any human's meaning that a pleasing feeling was ecstasy to him. And anytime there was a new sensation introduced to Hux that didn’t have him disapproving of it, he just wanted more and more of it. From what this situation looked like…you knew a simple kiss on the neck would have Hux regretting not letting you feel his body much sooner.

Had you perhaps finally found your long awaited answer?

Considering how your current position was already awkward enough, you made the choice to climb on top of the robot so that you were now straddling his lap. You removed your hands from his upper area, instead moving your prosthetic to the flesh bits that connected his torso to his leg. While that hand stroked that part of him, your other went to the fleshy webbing that encased his appliances meant to resemble a waist.

No sounds came from Hux other than the whirring of his body, but you could feel under your own figure that his twitching had become somewhat more powerful with each stroke of your fingers.

An awe and adoration overcame you as you noticed his visor’s lights dimming down once more, exhibiting his ability to feel every touch. That if he spoke in a more human-like manner, there would without a doubt be some kind of whimper coming from his system. Mainly with how you now removed your hand from his fleshy waist, receiving a sudden jolt from Hux who whipped his head in your direction. Quite peeved in fact. 

“Relax,” you breathed out before bringing your hand behind you to then place it over his right thigh, giving the synthetic skin a gentle squeeze before a caress followed after. “I’m not done with you just yet.”

The android made sure to watch your every move as you entangled your other hand’s fingers into his webbing again, making sure to hold every girthy strand in between your fingertips. You soothed every bit of his waist until trailing back up to his chest where his pec was now stroked again, resulting in you removing your hand from his thigh much to his disappointment yet again. At least what was what you hoped.

Feeling rather optimistic, you leaned your face towards his chest where you took notice of his miniature screen that read all sorts of binary code. It was already very difficult to decipher any of the phrases he was coding, but with every move you made on his body, the codes only wrote themselves faster as if trying to comprehend themselves. So you dared to plant your lips on his chest, making a trail up to his neck before you did the unthinkable as all cares flew out the window. You were too damn determined and roused by every reaction that came from Hux no matter how small they were; so you gave his skin a quick nip before sucking on one of the his veins that bulged out more than the rest. 

Hux’s lower body jerked up and into your own that very instant, making you slightly jump but eventually ease up with a sly grin before you buried your face back into the crook of his neck.

“Is that to your liking, Huxlee?”

As your smile firmly remained on your features, Hux once again lacked any kind of reaction. Normally this would have had you disappointed, but this mode of silence had you beaming with pride. Especially with a new beeping that sounded from Hux’s chest screen that was quite reminiscent of a fast beating heart, so you pulled yourself away from him to take a peek at it. Yet another plethora of ones and zeros were drawn over his screen, lines coming in swift waves while you directed your attention to Hux’s visor. 

“Should I stop?” you teased the android who now looked like he just got out of his sleep mode. And he clearly did not appreciate you detaching your hands from his body the moment it happened. “Maybe I should head off?”

“Stop squabbling.” Hux finally responded, encouraging you to press your chest against his again. 

Right away did you wrap yourself around him, making sure to let your hands wander over the surface of his back. Somehow you had a hunch about the flesh surrounding the mechanical parts of Hux’s back, predicting that those specific areas would have a higher sensitivity. And it seemed that your predictions were accurate with how Hux reacted when you paid special attention to those locations.

He practically threw himself against you, twitching his head that you could say was buried in the crook of your neck. 

Now you adjusted your legs so that they wrapped around Hux’s trembling body, ankles hooked together while your fingers played with a particular tube on his back. Your fingertips followed the strand from one end to the other until reaching a definite spot where it impaled into Hux’s flesh. You brushed your fingers against that very spot before actually caressing it, feeling his twitching intensify while his projectile limb held you close against him.

In spite of all the quivering, Hux felt completely limp against your body. The feeling of awe never left you, merely increasing with every passing second that Hux seemed to glitch. Oh how you wondered what kind of squabbling sounds would escape his voice box had he possessed the ability to communicate more than just words. 

“Huxlee,” you whispered as one of your hands snaked its way up to Hux’s head to caress his damaged skin. Your lips grazed against its side before returning to his neck where you couldn’t help but tease with your hot breaths. And you soon elicited a powerful twitch from him the moment you kissed and nibbled on his neck right after you let out a tender whisper. “My lucky star.”

Amidst all his trembling, Hux looked straight into your eyes with every sensor on his visor. It was clear that his system was acting up with how overwhelmed he had become in such a short time span. What was not present to your eyes were the various codes swimming in his vision, lines of him attempting to recalculate and fathom every sensation he was feeling. Yes he had experienced his fair share of unpleasant feelings, such as when one of the worms managed to stun him with a pallet when he wasn’t in Overclock Mode or when J15L19 dared burn him. But…everything you provided made up for every single one of those moments of inflicted discomfort. You were blind to the new fuzziness in Hux’s sensors as he now tried to analyze your smile, your eyes, anything to ground himself and come to terms that he was still in the colony ship. However…your voice…the satisfying sound of your voice proved to be both relieving and torturous as you spoke to him.

 “Hux?” you finally voiced, scratching the back of the robot’s head once you took notice of his wandering mind. With your palm pressed against the now still surface that was his cheek, you made him focus on you as you beamed at him but now spoke sincerely. “I can stop if you need me to, I know it can be too much.”

“You won’t do such things.” Hux expressed with his head deepening into your palm, sensors once again powering down into a sort of sleep mode as his hold on you tightened once more, if it was even possible to hold you any tighter. “It’s really annoying when you continue squabbling.”

“Then maybe I should do this instead,” you resumed your affections by planting yet another kiss on his visor’s middle area, prompting a shudder from his head that nearly bumped into your nose. “Hey! Watch it.”

“How do you do it.”

“Do what?” you cooed with a tilt of your head, removing your hands from his head to let your arms hang loosely over his shoulders. 

“Create complications in my design.” Hux enunciated without hesitation, only proving his point when you soothed his back once more. It was then that you felt him hold you, not just hug your body, but hold you as he began to lean forwards until you were dipped  and hovering over the floor.

“What are you doing?” your giggling rang in his visor’s microphones while you made sure to hold onto him securely so as to not fall. It was then that you noticed his lights back on and shining on your complexion with how close he was to your face. With his machine parts and your prosthetic, you were basically magnets attracting each other every time. 

“This is better.” Of course when he had any kind of leverage over you was when he was actually content. “Finish what you began.”

“I fear that if I do, you’ll either drop me on my head or crush me with that arm of yours.” 

“Don’t tempt me.” Hux placed his visor against your forehead as you giggled again. 

“And what’ll you do if I don’t do as you say?” you held onto the robot with your prosthetic, this thankfully strong enough to hold you while you used your other hand to hold his face one last time. 

“I will make you succumb.” He practically threatened, but you knew no kind of harm would be brought upon you. And so, you grinned from ear to ear before giving his cheek yet another kiss:much to his satisfaction.

[paa-official]

Dialogue

[Audio tape clicking]

My name is Alethia Wilson. I’m reporting at august 15th 1969 and I’m at the Alamo County Police Station, Nevada. This audio tapes main purpose is for protocol and will mostly be used by me. This and following recordings are top secret and will be classified information owned by the government once my work on this case is done.

My carrier is focused on interrogating criminals and similar. But I’ve only been in this field for a short time and I haven’t gathered much experience. As a woman, it is difficult to get many gigs, therefore I am happy to be able to take this case. I will try my best to get the suspects to speak, while being calm and collected.

Not to many days ago the area 51 has reached out to us to interrogate four suspects, two male and two female. Before that I didn’t even knew this area really existed, but my hopes to see this location in person were swept away, as I was told the interrogation was moved to a location nearby.

Those four suspects didn’t speak a word to the other interrogators, which is why I was booked to fly over from New York. Because of them not speaking, the area 51 staff started being suspicious of them being soviet spies. But I share a different opinion. If they were soviets, they couldn’t sneak into the most location of the world, without someone not noticing their accents. Maybe there is more behind all of this and I’m getting behind it.

The first suspect I’m interrogating is someone special. Everybody's fingerprints were taken and sent through every database across the US and no matches were found, but I think it’s obvious that this one couldn’t.

It looks like it is one of the male intruders. According to the data of the physical observation, he is 1.82 meters tall, has yellow eyes, fiery red hair and a blue skin. He has a muscular build and apart from the mentioned details he seems very humanoid.

Among the items he carried with him was a black rectangle, which could be turned on with a button on the side. Unfortunately no one could do anything with it, because it was blocked by some sorts of a pin code. The only purpose it could bring us; emphasis on purpose; was displaying a time. Although there was some strange delay, with which the time didn’t match with any timezone of the soviet union. Or any timezone of the entire world.

He also carried two sword handles with him, which both didn’t have any blades. Even I cannot fathom the purpose of this items. He also wore an advanced metallic armor of some sorts with countless burns, scratches and dents from bullets.

The motivation is unknown due to the lack of communication. That’s why I was called in.

[Pausing audio tape]

[Door that’s being opened and handcuffs attaching]

Good morning. Before we start, my name is Alethia Wilson. I would appreciate you to introduce yourself, because your name is not stated in your file.

…

You would do us all a big favor, if you’d just talk with me. It would even help yourself get out of here as fast as possible.

… Wilson you say. Alright, how can I help you?

Excellent. Can you state your name for me please, before we can properly start?

Yes, of course. I’m Apath Wilson. A-P-A-T-H, some people never managed to write my name down correctly.

Mhm, Wilson. So we are namesakes

Oh, I know. That’s why I’m talking to you.

What do you mean by that?

We will get to that later.

Alright. How about we start with you telling me, why you and the other three broke into the area 51?

Uhhh… Nope.

Well, then not, I guess. Would you like to tell me about your origin?

… Are you sure about it?

I’m pretty sure. I need to know everything.

Well, if you have this much free time, I mean who am I to dictate how you should spend your free time, right?

Right…

Just one thing: Can those three men behind the mirror stop being pissed, because I’m talking to you but not to them? I’d appreciate that very much.

… How do you know there are exactly three men?

I’m an empath. I can sense how much they’re pissed off right now.

Empath? You mean you can sense the emotions of others?

And manipulate them, if I want to.

… What else can you do?

I mean, I can shape shift.

Pff.

You don’t believe me?

Pardon me, but I find it quite difficult to imagine you shape shifting into someone else.

[Take on Alethias appearance]

[Chair falls over] Holy shit!

I told you. Do we wanna start talking about my origin?

Can… can the others do that too?

No. The others are human. I’m a griever.

A griever?

Yes. All griever have an ability. But everyone has just one. I, on the other hand, have two, which isn’t normal.

And why do you have two?

Let me start with, where I come from.

[repldemiurge]

i finally watched the little dust up losses (both to the lovely ozmaneku)

hoooooo girl were those tough to watch back. The pace of our three sets was interesting (and indicative).

Nail-bitingly close Winner's Finals, Nail-bitingly close Grand Finals, then the GF Reset, where the first two games both went to round 5, and the third game was an utter wash, giving neku the 3-0.

But first I wanna give Neku his flowers. He was great about varying his dandy options. All four buttons were on the table, every time. Lots of F10 slayers never bunker during a blockstring, because it's minus a trillion right? So it's a little easier to just jump/mash on their dandy steps, but neku representing that option got me to respect so much more dandy pressure, leading to lots of repeated mixups I otherwise didn't need to take. He also wasn't shy about spending on YRC, and bursting in places I wasn't able to block. He had a fantastic sense for when he could mappa in neutral, or just kind of walk up, 2S, and get his party started.

I ran out of gas. No two ways about it. During the reset you can almost pinpoint the exact moment where I just give up. There were TWO critical lapses in discipline that I lost that could have secured me the win.

First: Dandy Step - At some point I, through sheer dumb luck, successfully mashed 5P against master's hammer. This was the worst victory I've ever had, because it convinced me for the rest of the set that I was capable of doing this consistently. I, of course, am not. 5P is not Gio's answer to master's hammer. Neutral jumping it is of course, a great option that is fast enough to do reactively. I did this sometimes! Though not with the reward I need to get after the fact. But more critically, I didn't use 623S enough! I had specifically practiced this option against various dandy step setups, and it's surprisingly potent! In the corner, it actually beats ALL FOUR followups to K-dandy. Yes, even bunker! Now the problem was a lack of my trust in my execution, and the difficulty of dealing with crossups. Nonetheless, I fail 5P so frequently here. I also did not act decisively after successful blocks against dandy high/low. Slayer is -2 after each of these, and I was either letting him take a free turn, or trying to do WAY too much in those two frames, and getting blown up. Second: Neutral - I totally lost control of pacing at some point. neku rarely did anything besides 2S, mappa, and air buttons in neutral, and I had no patience in spacing, or reacting to the more committal options (mappa and airdash in particular). Slayer gets excellent reward off of his neutral wins, but much like fighting I-No, i would have benefited greatly from slowing down, and frustrating his attempts to getting his gameplan running. Once I scored a KD, i certainly had the offense to get the job done.

Kind of.

The drops were horrible. At least two of them commentary actually mentioned "why is gio facing that way?", "where did that sideswap come from?". Gio combo physics is the realm of the gods after all. But I really really needed to be able to tell myself at some point during the set, "hey. You're trying for your high level combos and setups, and your nerves are not gonna let you have those right now. Pare it back to basics, and run what you can do consistently." So to my final point, on the night of, what practical step could I have taken to win? Time. Out. After losing the second game of the reset (or plenty of other game losses during the sets tbh), I needed to back out to the room, take 30 seconds to walk around the room, organize my breathing, and tell myself these kinds of basic affirmations and precepts. Slow down. Do what works. Don't get flashy with it.

Instead, I let my heated emotional state override my better judgement, and I got more and more unstable, until you can see me just fucking give up in game 3 of the reset.

Now, the good news is, is I addressed a lot of these problems by DU19, and finally broke Top 4! Ironically, this makes me the first person to compete in LDU and graduate without winning it. But I think this loss to neku was an important one. It showed me some problems I was having in game, and some things to work on in the coming weeks. But more importantly it showed me the issues i have with actually closing out a tournament. The mindset, adjustments, and behaviors that don't win you rounds, they win you medals. So that's what I have to take away from all this.

I keep getting stronger.

[button-man-herald]

Styrax Dev Diary #3: Me and U(I)

Back during the first iteration of Button Man-- back when it was strictly a point and click adventure game via Adventure Game Studio-- the UI needs were fairly 'find and replace'. Point and Click Adventure audiences are not averse to change per se, but over the 40 year lifespan of the genre, some standards were expected. A semi-diegetic inventory screen which swipes into and out of shot, a cursor which changes shape or accompanying icon according to context, and a dedicated text description area for showing the names of objects/characters the player's cursor hovers over. But since the beginning, we also knew we wanted combat in Button Man. As a new team, the combat existed in a sort of theoretical space, which we would 'get to when we get to'. Pretty quickly, we got to it. So we started with a semi-turned based system, with icons surrounding the player which you would press via mouse click. Punch/ Block/ Use Item. But our ideas started to flow, and the combat became more interesting and intricate, but also became more... unrelated? It's one thing to marry Point and Click trappings to a modern combat system, but its another to require a whole new control scheme and frame of mind when switching between the two modes. But how to solve this combat conundrum? Coincidentally, for reasons I may get into another time, this moment of head scratching was followed by the first major shift in development: Side Scrolling.

The place where games are (sometimes) made You see, also at the start, the story and thematic elements were pretty set-in-stone. But what we did not have was a standardized art style. Much of the early artwork was strictly practical; a bench was a bench, there was no specific style applied. The breakthrough was the decision to establish an old pulp-comic style, in the image of Smilin' Jack and TinTin. With that style, it began to make sense to change the visual angle a bit, which in turn made a restricted horizontal movement style make more sense.

With that, we realised it also made more sense for the player to explore the world a bit more directly, via keyboard controls. WASD/Arrow key movement would add a sense of tactile immersion (you know, as far as these things go with a keyboard and a named character on screen).

And with THAT revelation... we arrived at the obvious answer for our combat-- Beat 'em up side scrolling. It fit perfectly with our protagonist, Bruce McKenzie, who is a former junior boxer and all around tough guy, and comics have no shortage of "BAM", "POW!", and "SMACK!" images called to mind. With a change to artwork and keyboard controls, the migration to a side scrolling adventure game inspired by point and clicks was complete.

Original Bruce, followed by the first pass at a comic Bruce.

Which brings me to the present moment. The road to the current look and feel was long and winding, as the Lead Designer (me) learned 3 separate engines during this time and spent a good portion of the last year trying to catch up to our Lead Developer's abilities and knowledge of Unity. I'm happy to report that I am competent and comfortable in the Unity environment now, but that means I'm now sweeping up after myself in the wake of all the education. So many factors and components were created as temporary measures; placeholder dialogues, placeholder location teleporters, placeholder animations, and placeholder UI. All of these components have had their own evolutions and iterations, as I learned what we are capable of producing. We now have an elegant character teleportation system, and excellent Dialogue Manager which is overloaded with functionality, and now its time to fully shift the UI away from the Point and Click to one befitting a side-scroller.

what a lovely gait

First and foremost, our artist, Sam Mameli, worked hard to make the locations look great-- lets not hide them with bulky, persistent UI elements! Today I am creating the animations to hide away icons when not in use.

We've also removed the Description bar from the bottom of the screen, which tells the player who or what they are about to interact with.

Instead, the interactable which the player is about to activate will animate or highlight, allowing the player to plainly see that they are going to speak with a character, for instance, without revealing their identity.

Next up, I'll be shifting our dialogue box from the wide format, bottom of the screen style, to one which emerges from the right side of the screen, creating a square on the left side of the screen in which to center the conversation. This means that the camera will have a clean, unobstructed view of the characters and the backdrop.

(The background artwork is outdate in the above image, but you can see the UI components which are about to be updated)

I hope to finish this all up in the next few days, so that our artists can go in and replace the placeholder artwork sooner than later, bringing Button Man one step closer to being Gamescom ready!

[contentment-of-cats]

The narc is right on schedule.

Here we go again. Narcs love to spoil shit they can't control, and @cordeliaperry - formerly cyberwitch85 and who knows how many sockpuppets - pops up. She's got a hard-on for Merry Chissmas now, because if you've shit your pants in front of an entire fandom, what's one more fart in all the stink?

My first experience with her was when she threatened a friend with revenge porn. Another more comprehensive link here. It was not a rumor - it was something she did. She likes to delete her replies and edit her posts, so you have to document every interaction.

I did not dox her, though I do have the information from a post that she herself made. She's locked her archive and blocked me, but I do have screenshots and her showing her whole ass on other blogs. Receipts, baby.

The reason she’s accusing me of doxing is because she donated to my cancer fund and I offered the money back. Someone, not me, sent her the money. I also turned over the $100 she funded me to a cancer charity. She also does not know the meaning of the word 'doxxing' which is the public exposition of personal information such as name, address, and so forth. However, it is a hot-button word that gets attention - and since she's a textbook narc, that's what she feeds on.

Not a Boomer - it's an ageist dogwhistle from a person desperate to recruit her own army of flying monkeys. Gen X, represent.

She went full bunnyboiler on a writer formerly in the fandom, sending multiple hate anons - that were so obviously her. And there are so many, many, many of them.

She is alleged to have used her Discord server to spy on her 'friends' - one of the reasons I now avoid Discord servers.

Since she was not getting any traction attacking said author, she turned on one of the author's friends with a bloodthirsty campaign of harassment.

She bullied a Thrawn fan out of the fandom and from their blog. She might have done this to others that I don't know about, considering how many fans disappeared from the fandom when I was sick starting from February 2022 (diagnosis) to March/April of 2022 (recovery from last surgery).

She hates me because I've gotten very fucking tired of narcs torpedoing fandoms because they want to be a BNF. She bullied a lot of people, and people are scared to stand up to her. I don't give two farts in a tornado. I'll punch back on the bitch.

People are afraid of her - one reason that Merry Chissmas has an anon submission option. She allegedly gathered people's contact info to organize a fandom penpal activity, then also used an author's contact info to harass them. Nobody wanted to be next.

As she cycles through her narcissistic rage, she's staying on brand. Narcs love to ruin holidays and make it all about them. You can find out about the darker side of fandom here with history, tutorials on protecting yourself, resources, and other informative articles.

And finally, I offer a video of wisdom from Darren F. Magee - an excellent psychologist, fellow sci-fi nerd, and man on a mission.

If she can't control an event and if she can't be the center of attention, she'll do her level best to ruin it for everyone else. In the spirit of the holidays, I think I'm going to - a few times a week - post a screenshot of her clownery along with an appropriate Darren Magee video just to make the point.

Merry Chissmas, 🤡

[siremasterlawrence]

Re-inventing Las Vegas Part 1

Las Vegas has been bought right under all of us and everybody expects things to stay the same.

That is until Zach Efron permanently makes it a home for himself under false pretenses of course.

A limo arrives at a hotel driving into the total parking lot in the back of the hotel settling in the dust.

The door opens up revealing the young man exits the limo removing his sun shades for all the world to see.

Something feels off with nobody to greet him except for a figure in the back matching his footsteps.

They are pacing back to back someone is in mood grabbing him by his neck and yanking him back.

A needle prick hits his necks sinking into his skin with a smirk injecting the serum into his system.

The needle pulls out I can see the instant odd wave of emotion taking over his entire body.

He breaks in a smile, eyes rolling back into his head and his body falls back into the strangers arms.

The man drags the body over to the elevator shaft, presses the button as the door swung open and they walk onto it.

The door slides closed with the cart racing to the basement as it comes to a holt and the door opens.

Zach is slung onto his back dropping him on to the couch leaving him to stir in his own juices.

“Excellent! I could not be more thrilled.”

“Oh! What a pretty boi”

“You will be a bitch too”

“Strip him of his clothes”

“Yes Sir”

“Place him in the pod”

“Now leave us be”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“How I have waited for this”

“So long”

“Mmmmmmm”

“Sweet and succulent lips”

I lean down kissing him slowly as our lips hit a new high reaching to cloud nine like never before.

Rising back to my feet quickly I smack his ass so hard he can flinch while close the pod.

The door seals as the wall opens behind him wit the pod slipping out, the pod starts to glow.

The wall enclose of him his vitals appear on my television screen showcasing everything for me.

Inside his pod he begins to shift a bit turning inside out as his mind is being analyzed with a probe.

Your mind is open a brainwave consumes him overtaking his mind, body shackles him down.

“Ten more minutes and we will be done.”

“Five more minutes.”

“One”

“Zach Efron bot activated”

“Perfection”

“Hell Yeah!”

The end

Re-inventing Las Vegas Part 2

Tonight Zac Efron’s one man showcase for all men and select women opens up to the shock of the world.

People exit the buses that park into the city madness of it all, offloading onto the road blocks.

They roll into the city with the sign flashing so bright it’s a runway surrounded by a sea of people.

If huh stop they are all men people cannot believe what they see lights flickering on and off.

Men stop cold unable to move instantly they fall into trance frozen and unable to move elsewhere.

The billboard shows Zac walks down the run way so hot, so sexy and so loss with hot zombie mindless blinding eyes.

My plan is unfurling to me through the entire world with slightest glimmer of and tirelessly working all hours.

I walk behind him placing my arm over his shoulder he melts at my every touch it feels so good.

My fingers form a heart shape on his chest as he squirms with excitement and lots of love.

“Welcome to my show hotties” he says.

“Check out my body, you know you want it”

“Watch me strip”

“Dance”

“Sing”

“A private show is also available”

“Anytime and day”

“All for you “

“Here at pretty boy factory”

The show opens up that night to a wild and large crowd overflowing the stadium and money filling up my pockets.

“Are you guys ready?”

“Wwwwwwooooooaaaaaaahhhhh!”

“What I want to hear”

“Good bois”

“Meet the Master or ceremony”

“Master Lawrence “

“All of you bow”

“Let’s party”

The end

[windingpathways]

old pinned vanished somehow so here we go again. welcome to my twisted fucking cycle path etc etc.

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about me - infinite hobbies, no time or energy for any of them. gardened professionally for a second and still grow a lot of stuff, want to eventually start my own garden/landscaping company. trying to turn my house into a functional art installation down the road

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see 'my face' or 'ivy.jpg' tags for pics of me - you may wanna block the 'nudity' tag first tho! trying to work my way up to having an OF, so stay tuned for that I guess (also TELL ME of interest PLEASE! need to know if I'd actually have an audience. shy? i keep anon on)

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blog is a chaotic mixture of content. fairly consistent with tags though and i'm happy to add almost anything to my tag list. if there's something you're looking to avoid, shoot me a message.

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be excellent to each other please! age in bio required, 18+ or get blocked. some lovelies I follow don't want men touching their posts (noted w 'men dni' tag) - disrespect them & get blocked. not single/looking; take no or get blocked. act like a creep & get blocked. i love the block button i am kissing her sweetly

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that said, hmu if y'all wanna chat/be friends! snap is @wandering_ivy, you're welcome to add me there also. not a quick reply usually but i love people and am happy to get to know u, just have a lot going on always

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anyways that's all for now ^.^ pls consider tossing some change my way if you like my stuff/have anything to spare, but i know we're all spread fuckin thin these days. rbing my stuff is always appreciated too <3

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ca$happ/v*nmo: @wanderingivy

more links coming, check back for potential OF/KoFi/MV etc

liking this post to lmk you've read it means we're besties and you can now summon me into battle for aid in times of need. no exceptions. use this power wisely