#Mega City Four

[cherrylng]

100 Albums To Understand Muse - Part 7 [STYLE Series #004 - Muse (August 2010)]

MANIC STREET PREACHERS Gold Against The Soul (1993) After digesting punk, glam and hard rock from the first single to the first album, the band developed a more massive and epic stadium rock-oriented sound on their second album. The band's signature melodic melodies, weeping guitars, dramatic use of strings and literary lyrics reflecting their unique emotionality, etc. are all highly concentrated on this album. -I

MANSUN Six (1999) This is the second album by the heretics of the British scene, who have a weapon of graceful melodies and aggressive guitar sound, and who have eliminated the synths used in their previous album to challenge the limits of guitar rock. While each part is catchy, it is not bound by the concept of song structure, but rather, it is a series of modulations and time signature changes that seem to contain different songs within a single song, and the flow of the raging waves is breathtaking. -I

MARILYN MANSON Antichrist Superstar (1996) The occult rock guru's anti-Christian-themed career. Dominic praised the music video for ‘Beautiful People’, which was one of the biggest hits, although he said it was scary. They employed that director, Floria Sisismondi, for their ‘Supermassive Black Hole’ music video. It is a visual representation of a nightmarish world. -H

MARION This World And Body (1996) A band from the Manchester suburbs that emerged during the Britpop era, this unique foursome were the opposite of Oasis-like wildness and were distinctly out of step with the movement. Their songs, full of fading and melancholy, indulgent romanticism and intense emotion, are still vivid today. ‘Let's All Go Together’ is particularly recommended. -I

THE MARS VOLTA De-Loused In The Comatorium (2003) The Mars Volta was formed by the Afro brothers Cedric & Omar, formerly of At The Drive In. This is their debut album. Often described as ‘progressive music unique to the 00s’, its unpredictable avant-garde development is truly thrilling. The band's massive, dramatic performances have much in common with Muse. -K

MASAHIRO MASUDA Villa-Lobos: Guitar Works (2009) Composer known for writing Bach-like suites in the manner of Brazilian music. Matthew's influence was probably not that, but a collection of pieces written as guitar exercises. There are glimpses of Matthew's playing style in the stoicism with which he pursues the possibilities of guitar expression as well as technique. -M

MEGA CITY FOUR Sebastopol Rd. (1992) When the three Muse members were in junior high school, MC4, Senseless and Grebo-style covers were popular in and around the bands they were in. The influence of these influences could be seen in the melodies and harmonies of Muse's early songs before the band's debut. A cover of ‘Prague’ from the third album was simultaneously included on Muse's single ‘Resistance’ (2010). -I

MERCURY REV All Is Dream (2001) Veteran of the psychedelic-dreamy rock scene alongside the Flaming Lips, who made a name for themselves with 1998's “Disaster's Songs” and cemented their reputation with this 2001 album. The fragile voice of Jonathan Donahue (vocals) and symphonic playing create an iridescent dreamscape. The extraordinary landscape is shared by Muse. -K

Translator's Note: For once, I found not not one, but TWO albums that aren't available on YouTube at all, so the compromise that I took was that one was available on Spotify, while the other is only available for sale as a physical CD on the artist's main website.

[musicmags]

[megwai]

私のMega City Four愛を込めた、ねこ2コマ🐱 『Forgiveness is a virtue not a crime』好きなphraseです。Good song💖 Wizって腕が長いわぁ✨

[sunburnacoustic]

Muser questions: #17?

17. Dan or Morgan?

Honestly, Morgan. Dan's the one I've properly seen live, just because I was so far at the back during the last (ST) tour that I could barely tell who was who in the band, and really, they were only distinguishable from 1) Matt's ridiculous LED sunglasses and 2) the fact that Dom was in fact, behind a drum kit :P And Morgan prefers to stay in the background anyway, so I barely saw him. :/

Dan obviously lets Muse be the star of their own show too, but I think you feel his presence more on stage? And he also had a lovely moment at a Muse show where he proposed to his partner! And that's always going to be a part of the Muse family history, which is super sweet.

I can't say that musically Dan is a better or worse fit with Muse than Morgan, because he does what he does well, and iirc he also helped with mixing Won't Stand Down and the band were quite happy with that (separate discussion about what fans thought of those BMTH-like verses, but it sounds like that's what the band wanted in the first place), so I reckon he's got what Muse need.

But I think it's just the history and tradition that make me pick Morgan! How many other people are responsible for my knee-jerk reaction to any time anyone mentions any sort of shaking percussion instrument:

[ID: "'It's not a shaker, it's a cabasa!' —Morgan Nicholls speaks out against fan ignorance", a classic taken from the Muse message boards]

If Morgan decides he does want to tour with Muse again, I'll miss Dan but be really happy to see Morgan again. I hope he isn't fully done with Muse, he was in the crowd at the final London shows of the tour!

Also, I'm just a fan of Senseless Things, what can I tell ya :)

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 1 - Home Sick

Okay, let’s start this from the top. Once upon a time and all that shit.

You had somehow, some way, ended up stranded in another universe when you were going toe-to-toe with the Spot that (unfortunately) Mile’s apparently created (unintentionally). Got it? Good.

Now the question is how you got stranded in another universe while fighting the Spot is another shebang that you do not know, and frankly, not your top priority as of right now.

Your mission is finding a way to power your web-watch (no offense but the gizmo name sucks), and either use it to find Miguel, the spider-society, or your very own earth. You honestly weren’t choosy on which option you land, as long as you safely made it out alive and unscathed. 

Speaking of unscathed, which in fact you are not, you quietly swung across many buildings, in the shadows, making sure you were hard to spot. Your dark spider suit being perfect for night patrol is a blessing for the camouflage it provides you in this god forsaken gloomy city.

Now, to get back on track, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to process that you have basically been thrown into a world where in your universe is all but fiction. 

Have you kept up with the comics?

No, of course not. After Aunt May’s passing, you honestly gave up everything and just solely dedicated yourself into fighting crime. Well, you know some things, since Peter was also a mega comic nerd.

He would go on for hours and hours and hours about Batman and his kids (adopted and biological) and whatnot. You didn’t mind, since spending time with a talkative Peter was better than being in your own headspace. If you recall the latest one to come under Batman’s wing was someone named Duke? Well, that’s as far as you remember. 

Regardless, now you're looting someone’s clothing wire. Picking out a thick gray turtleneck and black leggings (thank god) you don them over your suit, making sure nothing was visible. Now the issue is your footwear. Maybe you can get away with it? 

Taking off the mask you were able to stuff it inside your bra (extra pocket, am I right?) while your gloves were hidden among your sleeves. Making sure nothing was out of place you pulled out the wallets of the two petty criminals, counting the money.

“Four-fifty, not bad.” Though you don’t condone your actions, you are in a precarious situation at the moment. Oh well. Tossing one of the wallets away (making sure not to touch it with your fingers), you also placed it inside your bra for safe keeping.

Maybe this would be enough for a motel? How expensive- or cheap are those in Gotham? With how often crimes occur, it shouldn’t be that expensive, right? Regardless, first things first, find a place to eat, find out the date and then a place to stay. Shouldn't be too hard.

Quietly climbing down the side of a complex building, you made sure the coast was clear before heading out. The lack of a jacket made you feel very vulnerable and exposed. Head down and hands to your sides, the cool breeze of the city causes shivers down your spine. “This fucking sucks.” you mumbled, making sure to avoid gothamites as much as possible. 

No time to gawk at your environment when you’re so out of place. You honestly just kept walking around, hearing police sirens and the occasional cop car driving by while you try to not lose your goddamn mind.

Walking around, using back streets and alleys you shiver as the cold nips at your face. It’s not that you’re sensitive to cold, it’s just that you can’t afford to get sick here. In a world where you don’t exist.

“Wait a minute…” thinking back on something, it’s true that you don’t exist here. But that doesn’t mean that a you- doesn’t exist. Maybe somehow there is a version of you or spider-woman here. A far reach but hey, just hours ago, this was all fictional to you. But something worth looking into. 

With a heavy sigh you walk inside an alley, looking up to gauge the time to see- oh, what’s that? Another clothing line! And guess what? It has more clothes to loot! Score! Don’t mind if I do! Finders keepers baby!

And you thought your spider luck was ass.

Discreetly looking around to see for any cameras that can potentially identify you only to come out flat. Perfect. Using the fire escape you parkour to snag a black oversized zip up sweater. 

This would be perfect in covering you even further (and now you have pockets for your mask) and making your figure harder to identify. Now you can start acting like a true gothamite.

With a pep in your step, you exit the alleyway.

Spotting a diner up ahead, settling yourself inside you order your drink of choice and a bagel just to have something to entertain yourself while you calm your nerves.

Sitting down next to a window, taking slow sips and bites from your meal you subtly look around (making a point of subtly ignoring the gaze of the cashier). It seems to be late afternoon, heading to night. Not good, not good at all. 

Besides finding a place to stay, you glance at your wrist, the web watch looking pretty obvious and suspicious out there in the open on your wrist. But, without it, you could perish in this foreign world. Should you pull a Hobie Brown and create a new watch from scratch? No, you don’t have the time, tools, or luxury. Thank god for the hoodie covering it up.

Right now, staying on task is essential. A job, maybe? With what credentials? Hell, you don’t even have an ID. Maybe a fake one? Who would do such a thing for a reasonable price and isn’t a criminal? Another note, you need supplies, enough to build web shooters and the cartridge. Unlike other spiders, you had the ability to shoot webs from your wrist, gross. But (with Peter’s intellect) you ended up also creating webs on your own in case yours fails. And it has- a lot both in comical and crucial times. Peter wouldn’t let you live anything down (god you miss him).

And being in a new world and everything going on, the last thing you need is a web block because of the high anxiety and stress this place is already giving you. You’d rather be safe than sorry. Now, how to get supplies? Stealing them seems easier than working for it. You just don’t have the time. How were you going to steal them, and from where? Who the fuck knows. Probably from a college science room or something.

In order to do even that, you need to find out the layout and what not of this place. So maybe the best place to start is the library? Doesn’t someone from Batman’s little possie work at the library? Can you risk that? Probably.

Fuck, this was going to be harder than it looks. No phone, basically no money (not counting the one you stole from criminals), no ID (or insurance), no place to stay, no allies, ya got nothing. Zip, zero, nada. 

You feel so lost and alone, so vulnerable. And the thoughts in your head are slowly getting louder and louder. Eating away at your insecurities and feelings. God, you’re starting to get homesick. Will you make it back? Will you find a way back home? Is anyone even looking for you?

Last thing you recall was fighting the Spot with Miles, Hobie, Gwen and Pavitr. You remember hopping onto Spot’s back while he was absorbing but then he poof and you along with him. Everything went black for you and then you landed here in this city (ungracefully might I add).

You just want to go home…even if it’s lonely without Uncle Ben, Aunt May and Peter Parker.

You really have nothing, rock bottom, baby. But then again, the only place to go is up, right? 

Sighing you finished your drink and bagel before leaving the diner, making sure to look at the clock above the exit, and aimlessly walking around. Would they let you in one of those shelters? Are those even a thing? Probably, maybe. 

Couldn’t hurt to try. Buuuuut, then again, you need the privacy, so maybe the shelter was a no go. Okay, perfect, back to square fucking zero. A cheap and possibly dangerous motel it is!

Hopefully your spider luck doesn’t fuck you over. You’re honestly thankful for not coming across any batsonas and whatnot. And you were able to get clothes so you say you’re two for two.

After looking around for some time, emphasis on some, you managed to find a motel and get yourself settled. No ID required, just cash, and you internally sobbed at the remaining funds you had left. You really will need a job or a sustainable income.

“Are underground rings still a thing? Is it a thing here?” You mumbled, discarding your stolen clothes before fiddling with your watch until its screen flashes before abruptly turning dark again. “Well now, how fucked am I?” A deep sigh resonated in the empty room. Hopefully while it turned on, Miguel would somehow by some god given miracle (or your spider luck but don’t bank on it) that he received at least a signal, no matter how microscopic it is.

You had to get home. At all costs. This place isn’t your home. It’s not like you should play by the rules. But, Ben, May, and Peter would be so disappointed in you if you break laws just to return to your home universe. And if you’re being truthful, it wouldn’t sit right with you either…

But Miles needs you. 

If this world doesn’t have a- you in it, then you aren’t needed here. So you shouldn’t waste time twiddling your thumbs. Maybe you really do need to break into a computer lab to see what’s up with your watch or scavenge for parts. Hobie built it with parts from Miguel’s earth. Meaning, you can too, with whatever scraps you can find.

You’ll prioritize your watch first, then this city. It’s unfortunate, but you really have to get back home, and you can’t let your feelings get in the way and distract you.

Maybe you should call it a night? Figure things out in the morning? A yawn takes over your thoughts. “Yea, sleep sounds really good right now.” 

These problems are for tomorrow’s you. For now, you’ll catch some Zzz’s and flesh out a detailed plan on how to get back home. 

You’re banking on hacking a computer at the library despite the risks. Shooting a web at the door to prevent any possible and/or unwanted inconveniences because let’s be honest, trust no one but yourself, especially in this bat(ha)shit crazy world, better to be safe than sorry. You need your sanity to fix or at least charge your watch in order to get back home.

“Ben, May, Peter- give me strength.” and into dreamland you go.

-

“Hey B, come look at this.” A female voice spoke out, catching the attention of the adult in the cave. “I got something to show you. I got a trace of a disruption- but it happened quickly and only once.”

“Where.” A gruff and stern voice asked.

“Around the East End.”

“I’ll let Selina know.”

“Should I get someone to look into it?”

“No, I’ll do it myself.”

With that, silence once again enveloped the Bat cave as Batman stepped out.

Prev; Next;

I'll be honest, I have no outline of where I want this story to go, this is just brainrot hour for me. Less go. A very high chance this will soon turn into somewhat of "yandere" but it's mostly just them being "possessive" honestly. Slooow burn. This was the last thing i had typed up, and I have no clue where I will drive this story, oops.

[opencommunion]

The Stop Cop City movement has sought to prevent the expropriation of part of the Welaunee Forest for the development of an 85-acre police mega training center: a model town to prepare the state’s repressive arms for the urban warfare that will ensue when the contradictions of their exploitation and extraction become uncontainable, as they did in 2020 after the APD murdered Rayshard Brooks.  That murder, and all those that came before, were the lodestars of the Black-led movement during the George Floyd uprisings; their demands were no less than the dismantlement of the entire carceral system. Unable to effectively manage or quell the popular street movements, the Atlanta Police Foundation set out to consolidate and expand their capabilities for surveillance, repression, imprisonment, armed violence, and forced disappearance. One result is Cop City, which has been racked by militant sabotage, land occupation, arson, and popular mobilizations, in an attempt to end the construction and return Atlanta to its people.  As the Atlanta Police Foundation was unable to contain the 2020 Black rebellion, so too have they been unable to quell the resistance against Cop City. The press reports that the project is hemorrhaging money and is mired in delays and difficulties. For their part, the city, the state, and the federal government, have in turn employed every tool in their power to destroy the movement. Last week, the Georgia State Senate passed a bill to effectively criminalize bail funds in the state; RICO charges have been contorted to target networks of support and care that surround the fighters; and last January, APD assassinated the comrade Tortuguita in cold blood while they rested in their tent in the forest. It is clear that Stop Cop City represents one of the conjunctural spear tips for expanding the existing systems of counterinsurgency that span Africa, Asia, and the Arab world.  Today the system’s belly rests atop Gaza, whose rumblings shake the earth upon which we walk. Through its Georgia International Law Enforcement Exchange (GILEE) program, the APD has sent hundreds of police to train with the Zionist occupation forces. And in October 2023, after Tufan al-Aqsa, the Atlanta Police Department engaged in hostage training inside abandoned hotels, putatively intended to “defeat Hamas,” in an advancement of tactics for the targeting of Black people. With every such expansion, the ability of counterinsurgency doctrines to counteract people’s liberation struggles grows. The purpose of counterinsurgency is to marshal state and para-state power into political, social, economic, psychological, and military warfare to overwhelm both militants and the popular cradle—the people—who support them. Its aim is to render us hopeless; to isolate and dispossess us and to break our will to resist it by any and all means necessary. This will continue apace, unless we fight to end it. Stop Cop City remains undeterred: on Friday, an APD cop car was burnt overnight in response to the police operation on February 8; yesterday, two trucks and trailers loaded with lumber were burnt to the ground. An anonymous statement claiming credit for the former, stated: “We wish to dispel any notion that people will take this latest wave of repression lying down, or that arresting alleged arsonists will deter future arsons.”  As the U.S. government and Zionist entity set their sights on the Palestinian people sheltering in Rafah, as they continue their relentless genocide of our people in Khan Younis, Jabalia, Shuja’iyya, and Gaza City, the Stop Cop City movement has clearly articulated its solidarity with the Palestinian struggle. They have done so with consistency and discipline, and we have heard them. Our vision of freedom in this life and the next requires us to confront and challenge the entangled forces of oppression in Palestine and in Turtle Island, and to identify the sites of tension upon which these systems distill their forces. This week, as with the last three years, the forest defenders have presented us one such crucible.

(11 Feb 24)

National Lawyers Guild, Stop All Cop Cities: Lessons For a National Struggle (video, 1 hr 45 min)

[twinsimming]

Mattresses & Frames Conversions [Pt. 3]

Here's my third set of converted mattresses and bed frames! The conversions are from the following packs: The Sims 4 (#4), The Sims 4: Snowy Escape (#1), The Sims 4: Cats & Dogs (#5), and The Sims 4: City Living (#6).

I also converted the mattress and bed frame from the SIMKEA Furnishings Stuff Pack (#3) and the bed frame from the Tiny Living Plus - CC Addon (#2) by @illogicalsims.

The bed frame and mattress from The Sims 4: Cats & Dogs are longer than the others to leave room up top for the pillows, but I've also included "standard" versions that can work with other mattress/frame combinations. And I edited the bed frames from The Sims 4: Snowy Escape and The Sims 4: City Living to convert them from singles to doubles.

The mattress in Preview #1 can be found here, the mattress in Preview #2 can be found here, and the mattress in Preview #6 can be found here.

Links to Mattresses & Frames Part 1 and Mattresses & Frames Part 2.

Comfort -> Beds

Monster Free Bed Frame [edit by twinsimming]: one channel | §500 |

Not So Murphy Bed Frame [by illogicalsims]: two channels | §600 |

Sömlös Double Bed Frame [by illogicalsims]: one channel | §3000 |

Sömlös Double Mattress [by illogicalsims]: four channels | §850 |

The Barnish Bed Frame: three channels | §400 |

The Barnish Mattress: four channels | §220 |

Modern Colonial Bed Frame: two channels | §1500 |

Modern Colonial Bed Frame Standard [edit by twinsimming]: two channels | §1500 |

Modern Colonial Mattress: four channels | §700 |

Modern Colonial Mattress Standard [edit by twinsimming]: four channels | §700 |

Modern Colonial Bed Pillow: two channels | §50 |

Space Blanket Bed Frame [edit by twinsimming]: two channels | §500 |

| All TS4 presets included and base game compatible |

Credit: meshes by EA, meshes by illogicalsims, The Sims 4, Sims4Studio, TSRW, Blender, Milkshape, Photoshop, and Gimp.

Download (SFS, package) | Mirror (MEGA, package)

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi.

Experiencing issues with my conversions? Inbox me. Enjoy! 💙

[zepskies]

Code Red

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x Female Reader

Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.

AN: So I didn’t think I’d ever write for this character, but it was prompted by a lovely anon and encouraged by my friend @thatonewriter15! I hope you enjoy. ❤️ 

Song Inspo: “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. “I’ve found a love…”

Word Count: 1,500 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, suggestiveness, mega fluff

He was in the zone.

Four six-inch double buffalo chicken clubs with banana peppers on whole wheat bread (gross, but he wasn’t the one eating ‘em), two spicy Italians, and a tuna on rye.

Priestly wrapped them up with practiced precision and slid them down the line to Piper, Mission Impossible-style. She smiled at his antics and took them and brought them over to Tish at the register.

Priestly had another turkey and provolone on his docket, hold the mayo, when his cell buzzed in his pocket. Today he actually did have pockets. As in, he was wearing joggers, boots, and a graphic tee that said: NO TEQUILA, NO ENTRY.

He swiveled his phone in his hand like a drummer with a drumstick. He smiled when he saw your name flashing across the screen, and he answered it.

“Hey, Beautiful. What’s up?” he asked.

“Boaz, I need you,” you said. To his ears, your voice was sultry, and a bit strained.

He perked up with raised eyebrows.

“What’s holding up the turkey and cheese?” Piper asked.

Boaz held up a finger to the blonde and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands busied themselves with the next sandwich order, but he was all too attentive to your every word.

“Oh yeah?” he replied to you. His smile deepened. “Well, that’s convenient. Because I’m craving some of you, baby.”

You gave a breathy chuckle. “Normally I’d take you up on that, but no. I need you. As in, I really need you to do something for me.”

Priestly arched a brow. His brain was already filling up with ideas of how he could best help you. He mentally took an inventory of the “tools” in your nightstand drawer, and which ones he could best use to his advantage when he—

“Uhh, well, I got about one more hour in my shift,” he said, lowering his voice, even as it deepened a notch. “But if Jen covers me, I can be outta here in half the time.”

“Oh my God, good,” you gasped. “I’m in so much fucking pain, you have no idea.” 

Priestly blinked, and any thoughts of kinky fun times came to a screeching halt. Concern took over when he realized that the strain in your voice wasn’t from the sexy kind of need.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

“I’m out of Midol, my uterus is rioting like it’s a Vietnam War protest, and…oh yeah, I need more tampons too,” you said. “But I legitimately cannot move from this couch.”

Priestly couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Ech, I hear ya. Are we in a Code Green, Code Yellow, or Code Red situation?”

Jen glanced over at him from where she was mopping the floor, and she gave him a questioning look.

What’s wrong? she mouthed.

“Code Red, definitely,” you answered with a sigh.

Priestly grimaced in sympathy. He mouthed back to Jen, Code Red.

She nodded in female understanding, and raised a hand that said, Say no more.

“Okay, yeah,” Priestly replied to you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You released a sigh of relief. “And if you want to throw in a Snickers, I wouldn’t hate it.”

He chuckled at that one.

“You got it,” he said. “I’ll be home in T minus an hour, give or take.”

You groaned. “Can’t you just steal a DeLorean or something?”

“You know, I could, but that would mean I’d be going back further into the past before you even needed to call me, and I’d still probably be making sandwiches since I’ve been working here since damn near 2000 B.C. But you know what, they should really call that movie Back to the Present, since they don’t actually go to the future until—”

“Okay,” you had to laugh, even though it was edged with discomfort. “I’ll see you later.”

At the supermarket, after his shift at Beach City Grill, Priestly had most of the supplies he needed for a successful mission. All he was missing was his old enemy on Aisle 2.

Once again, he faced a wall of tampons. All bright colored boxes and numbers and sizes…

Okay, not Code Green, so not the slender ones that might as well be match sticks. Not Yellow, so no to Regular…ah! Here we are. Super Plus.

AKA: Code Red. Complete with leak guard, no latex. He grabbed the blue box and threw it into his basket of essentials, including no less than three assorted chocolate bars and a pint of Ben & Jerrys. He knew his girl, and you liked your Half-Baked ice cream with chocolate chip cookie dough and brownie pieces.  

He brought over his haul to the checkout line. Sure enough, Gerry, one of the locals, was finally old enough to buy a case of beer by himself. He glanced at the blue box Priestly was taking out onto the conveyor belt and smirked.

“No slender regulars this time?” Gerry remarked.

Priestly’s smile was tight. “No, Gerald. Slenders are for pussies.”

“Literally,” the blonde beanpole snorted. “What, your girlfriend got a heavy flow this month?”

Priestly rolled his eyes, and his mouth pressed in a line. The word flow still kind of grated on him like nails on a chalkboard, but what irked him more was this guy imagining any part of your intimate parts.

“All right, my girl’s flow is none of your business,” he said. “Once you hit puberty and grow your first pubes, you’ll understand.”

Gerry floundered while Priestly continued on to make his purchases. Even the cashier was smiling, trying not to laugh as he silently gave Priestly his props for a burn well made. Priestly shot the guy a nod and a smile before he left with his spoils.

“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Priestly sing-songed.

He stepped through the door with his keys still jangling in his hand. He was trying to balance the big bag of groceries while closing the door to the apartment he shared with you.

Your head perked up from the living room couch, and your hand slowly curled up, beckoning him over. Priestly obliged you. He peered over the side of the couch and smiled at the way you were all curled up under a throw blanket, already in your pajamas, while FRIENDS reruns played on the TV.

“Finally,” you said with a tired smile. But not the kind of finally that just meant you were impatient for the goods he carried. The kind of finally that also meant you were happy to see him.

He laid a comforting hand on your head, leaned down, and pressed a kiss above your brow. You held him there by the collar of his shirt, prompting him to kiss you for real. Your hand moved up his tattooed neck and your nails gave the back of his head a little scratch, careful not to disrupt the blue mohawk.

He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, just enough to try and gauge how you were feeling.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked.

“Like a beach umbrella in a hurricane,” you replied wryly. “You got the stuff?”

Priestly held the grocery bag tucked under his arm like it was a drug deal.

“Oh, I got the stuff, if you got the money,” he said.

You nodded, and your small smile turned mischievous. “I got your money, Big Man.”

With your hand delicately hooked behind his neck and the other gliding up his arm, he didn’t realize he was falling into a trap.

You tugged his arm hard enough to try and get him to fall over the back of the couch.

“Hey!” he yelped. Yet he also laughed while you tried your best to pull him overboard.

He had to toss the bag of groceries to the floor next to you, but he managed to get over and onto the couch without crushing you. He probably smelled like old sandwich and mayonnaise, but you didn’t seem to care. 

You just helped him settle in behind you, with your back to his chest. This was the only way you’d find comfort for your lower back. It had been aching since you woke up this morning.

You grabbed his closest hand and guided it under your overlarge sleep shirt, then under the waistband of your panties. You laid his warm hand flat against your cramping lower belly.

Priestly pressed a kiss behind your ear and tucked his arm underneath your head. He felt the rise and fall of your sigh as you leaned back against him, and his smile softened.

“You’re gonna fall asleep without digging into your treasure trove,” he teased. “I even got your favorite ice cream.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder in interest.

“Half-Baked?” you asked.

“Yep, for extra brownie points. Eh? See what I did there?”

Your body shook with a quiet laugh. You reached your hand back to touch his bearded cheek this time. Your fingers toyed with his many earrings.

“Did you know that you’re my favorite human?” you said. “Like, ever?”

He smiled against your neck. “Could’a sworn I was your third favorite, behind Ben and Jerry.”

“Nope, just you,” you said, snuggling back further into his warmth. “Thank you, baby.”

Priestly realized then that he’d found it.

He’d really, honest to God found the life he didn’t think he’d get, with a woman who didn’t want him to change; who just wanted him to be here.

Though he smirked when you reached for the bag and dug out the pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

You giggled. “Shut up.”

AN: Priestly was such a fun character lol. I rewatched 10 Inch Hero this past week and this was the first thing I thought to write! If you liked this, let me know! (And if you want more Priestly.) 😘

Read the Prequel!

If you liked Code Red, read the start of their story:

▶️ The Miracle Man

Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

(Lovelies from my "Everything" tag list. If you want to be tagged on Priestly stuff specifically, check out the Tag List link in my bio.)

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

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[facts-i-just-made-up]

In honor of the LoZ anniversary, can you give us the real definitive timeline?

Yes, the games are, in unified and chronological order:

Skyward Sword

Ocarina of Time

Majora's Mask

Twilight Princess

Twilight Princess: Breaking Dawn Part 1

The Legend of Zelda (Sega Master System)

Phantom Link: Past the Four Minish Oracles

Hyrulevania 2: Zelda's Quest

Wind Waker

Breath of the Wild

Tears of the Kingdom

Zelda IV: Link Leaves Lordran

Grand Theft Epona: Gamelon City Stories

Beedle's Gate 3

Mega Man X

[written-in-flowers]

Lovesick: Chan x Male!Reader Pt. 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Male!Reader | Side pairings: Minho x Chan, Minho x Male!Reader (unrequited)

Word Count: 11k

Genre: Horror, Angst, Smut | AU: Yandere!au, Videogame!AU, Highschool!AU

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary: After being sucked into the dating simulator "Lovesick", Park YN has to defeat five rivals to reach his goal. However, he soon learns his rivals aren't the only thing he must contend with for Chan's love.

Tags: Graphic depictions of violence, Main Character Death, dark fic, dead dove: do not eat, yandere behaviors, yandere!reader, stalking, murder/violence, blood and violence, toxic relationships, mentions of murder, unrequited love, mentions of domestic violence, school massacre/genocide, implied teacher/student relationship, homophobic parents, mentions of bullying/trauma, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, high school setting, anal sex, anal fingering, edging, eventual smut, pool sex, locker room sex, blowjobs, choking.

A/N: PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE READING! I'm not responsible for any feelings you end up having because you ignored this warning and the ones above.

Han Jisung: Monday >

****

Tutorial Level: 

“Play as Kim Sunghoon, a sophomore at Whimoon High School. He currently has a crush on popular boy, Bahng Chan, and he’s not the only one. Sunghoon is in love, and he will do anything to be with the boy of his dreams. Beat all five rivals to win his beloved’s affections, and maybe you’ll survive.” 

‘Lovesick: Dating Simulator’, was written in bubble letters on the front cover. You’d found it at the bottom of the bargain bin by chance. After spending weeks in the office writing out code and testing out Nightmare Carnival 2, you thought you deserved a bit of a break. Your collection at home felt a bit stale, so you’d gone to the local game shop to look for something new. The bargain bin usually carried copies of short, simple independently made games. You liked giving the smaller companies a try, especially since you worked at the mega developer, Vision Entertainment. It reminded you of your own humble beginnings playing games people put their heart and soul into. You dug through the top to the very bottom where you pulled out a thin case. Against the pink backdrop with white hearts stood the typical anime school boy. Black bangs over his wide blue eyes, he wore a cheerful, playful smile from underneath the game’s title. 

Reading the summary a second time, you realized it sounded quite odd. ‘Maybe you’ll survive’? What did that mean? It certainly sounded strange, but perhaps the developer wanted it that way. It looked interesting; certainly had potential to be more entertaining than regular dating simulators and the LGBT factor intrigued you as well. When you tilted the cover slightly, the backdrop changed from pink to red with bleeding black hearts. Dark blood splattered the boy’s uniform and the knife he held behind his back. Yes, this game felt right up your alley. You typically finished games like this in a day or two, so you picked up a few more games from the bin before making your way to the counter. 

An apartment located in the center of Seoul, wide windows gave a view of the crowded streets below. Honking cars and busy city sounds came up to your windows, and you drowned the sounds with your stereo. The upbeat, four-chord intro to your favorite band’s newest single flowed through the apartment as you settled in for the night. After a long day in the office, you looked forward to a night of mind-numbing gaming. Putting a microwave dinner to cook, you scrolled through your phone to see a voicemail notification. You sighed deeply, already knowing who’d called. 

‘Eomma,’ labeled the two-minute long voicemail she’d left. You felt compelled to give it a listen while you waited. 

“YNie, I know you’re a busy boy these days with your video games and all that, but you can at least give your mother a call once in a while, you know. I did raise you after all,” she sounded irritated, “Remember when I told you your cousin Kyungmi got knocked up by that boy who works at her mother’s cafe? Well, apparently she’s keeping it and having a baby shower this weekend. Your aunt and I would like it if you came. You can bring that little friend of yours, what’s his name? Kibum? Kimoon? Well, whatever his name is, it’s this Saturday at one o’clock. I know this adorable baby-shop around the street from me you can get a gift from. Just letting you know. Talk to you soon, darling. Lots of love.” 

‘Little friend’. Your mother could never stomach your sexuality. Out of both your parents, she certainly took it better than your father, but she still avoids talking about it. You scoffed at hearing her get your ex-boyfriend’s name wrong for the millionth time. Not that it mattered. You and Dobin broke up months ago. It was over and done with, and you moved on from him. 

Getting your meal out of the microwave, you went over to the couch and ate dinner quietly, watching reruns of a sci-fi show you loved. You haven't talked to your parents much since moving to Seoul five years ago. You found it hard to rebuild bridges when the other half failed to meet in the middle. Your father disowned you almost immediately, often pretending he has no son whenever friends asked about you. Your mother took it well, though she preferred you kept it “behind the closet door” in front of family friends. She acted as if you’d arrive at family events decked out in drag and singing show tunes while waving a gay pride flag. 

Hm, perhaps you should. It’d be worth it to see the horror on their faces.

You’d been settling in for a long gaming session when your phone rang. Looking at the screen, you groaned at your boss’s name. Even after office hours the woman had the nerve to pester you. Answering the call, you put it to your ear and spoke:

“Hello Irene-noonanim,” you said, trying your best not to snap.

“YN-yah," she said curtly, "You didn’t submit your testing results yesterday." She continued in her usual stern tone, “I told you I needed them to show to the directors at the meeting.”

You sighed, sticking your tongue in your cheek. She could have told you this tomorrow.  You mustered up all the kindness you could put into your voice and said, “Oh yeah, um, sorry about that, Noona. I must’ve forgotten to press submit when I was typing it out. It’s still on my computer in the office; I'll go back into the system and print it out.” 

This was a flat out lie. You hadn’t written down the test results because there wasn’t much of a need. Nightmare Carnival 2 still acted as glitchy as the day they began its framework. You recalled spending hours reworking all the coding and modeling for the game because the characters kept lagging. You wanted to remind her that you’d been the original creator and developer. Vision Entertainment wouldn’t have a good horror game if they hadn’t bought the rights and hired you to work alongside them. However, you refrained. The last thing you needed was working yourself up before you played a game. Still, you supposed you should’ve sent her something, even if half-assed. 

“I need you to do that ASAP,” she said, “It’s important we collect information from all the designers and testers before sending our updates. We’re on a deadline, you know.”

“Well, that’s what you get when you start promoting and teasing a new game before it’s even halfway done,” you spat back at her.

“Nightmare Carnival was a huge success, YN. A sequel needs to come out before it loses buzz.” She then added in a gentler voice, “You’re one of our best designers and testers. You know this game better than anyone on the team, and your work always comes out incredible.” 

Flattery. That was how Irene won over the people she'd annoyed or upset. Unlike your other male coworkers, you didn’t fall for her charms. You sensed the falseness behind the words right away. Irene used generic phrases like “you’re the best one on the team” and “you do such good work”. You hated it. You knew in the end she didn’t care about video gaming: she was a corporate lapdog sent to make sure they met deadlines. You wanted to strangle her most days. 

“Thanks, Noonanim,” you replied, pulling back your annoyance into a pleased tone, “That means a lot coming from you. I’ll send you the report, and you can send it to the guys upstairs.” 

Irene sounded pleased by your response and you hung up. You had no intention of doing anything else today. If she calls again, you’ll come up with an excuse to satiate her. Maybe bring up a family emergency or something. You didn’t want to deal with her. Sitting in front of your computer, you leaned into your seat with your after-dinner chips and a canned drink beside you. You knew you should keep working, since the game’s coding was something to be desired, but you could do it later. You needed a break. 

You installed ‘Lovesick’ and in a few minutes, you were met with the bright pink and white menu screen. A photo of the basic white and beige high school building, with the main character standing in front of it came on the screen. Your excitement elevated as you fixed the gameplay keyboard to your liking. You looked forward to seeing the game in action. The internet being full of spoilers, you kept yourself from doing any research beforehand. When you finished setting up, you clicked ‘New Game’ and the intro cutscene started. 

“All my life I’ve felt incomplete,” a young male’s voice said over a black screen, “I could never feel anything. No joy. No warmth. No light. My heart was a black, swirling abyss of nothingness.” 

The main character, Sunghoon, came onto screen, yet he looked different from the cover. A portly boy with thick rimmed glasses, acne scars on his cheeks, and stringy blonde hair parted in the middle walked through a long hallway. You couldn’t help feeling for him. You’d once been fat and pimpled, which made you a regular target for bullies. However, after a university ‘glow-up’, you lost the baby fat and your skin cleared up. But, you’re sure developers did this so his social avoidance and solitude made sense. Sunghoon had the typical 3D anime game style with sharp lines and big eyes that filled up the glasses. The graphics looked pretty clear for an indie game, so you weren’t too bothered. You’d seen worse. You watched the screen and felt the words resonate inside you. You’d been the same way once. You’d been the withdrawn boy who had few friends, but many bullies. You watched the character continue on through the empty hall, recalling your own school days.

 “I spent my days suffering in the darkness. Every night, I dreamed that one day my true love would come and take me away from this sadness. I dreamed they’d make me a whole person, filling the emptiness inside me.” 

The camera showed Sunghoon standing in circles with other characters, smiling and laughing with them. Except, you noticed his smile didn’t reach his empty eyes. You wondered if you looked like that with your friends. You always found yourself pushing to feel for others. It didn’t come naturally to you like it did to other people. The endless cycle of adult life and failed relationships turned you into a hollow shell incapable of strong emotions anymore. Your laughs sounded weak at times. You blanked in the face of a crying friend in need of consoling. You found yourself not truly caring.

“I thought I’d be forced to wander this earth alone forever, aimless and friendless.” The black faded into white with pink flower petals floating across the screen, “Then I met…Him.” 

It then showed the school’s courtyard where a large fountain stood in the garden area. On the edge of the fountain sat another boy in the green and white uniform, quietly reading to himself with a book bag at his feet. The bright pink glow around him made him stand out in the sea of gray blurs; his brown hair hung to his brow, and downturned eyes focused on the book in his lap. From the soft smile, you saw dimples poking slightly into the boy’s cheeks. He reminded you of every other hot anime boy you’d seen.

“Bahng Chan…”  Sunghoon said in a dreamy sigh. “He is my whole world. Ever since I saw him, a fire stayed blazing inside me. He has brought color and sunlight into my bleak existence. He fills my heart and completes me! I only feel human when I am looking at him. I love him.”

Although, you found it a bit odd that Chan’s looks appeared better enhanced than other characters. His features appeared rounder and detailed, somehow setting him apart from the introduction’s cutscene characters. You yawned as the cinematic continued. You must be more tired than you’d realized, but you hadn’t started playing yet. You decided you’d go to bed after getting a feel for the game.

“I knew I needed him in my life. I needed him like a fish needs water…but someone else wants my beloved.” The video shifted to show Sunghoon watching Chan talking to another boy. The romantic melody shifted slowly into deep, foreboding notes. “He wants him, but not in the way that I want him.” Sunghoon’s high voice became low and firm, a certain growl behind it. “He’ll never appreciate him like I do; he will never love him the way I do. He doesn’t deserve him. Chan belongs to me, and only me. He will be mine.” 

Your eyes felt suddenly heavy. Shaking your head and blinking a few times, the grogginess only grew stronger. The long office hours must finally be catching up to you. Your eyes stayed on the screen that played the melodic music, pink petals gently floating across it as it went onwards. It was a mesmerizing, hypnotizing sight. You wondered how long it took the developers to make the cut scenes. They were pretty good. With the right backing, they can be better. You rested in your chair and took a small sip of soda. Maybe the caffeine will keep you up long enough.

“I cannot let him have Chan. I need to stop him by any means necessary…”

Your eyes started fluttering closed. You slunk back into your computer chair, your head on the head rest…

“Even if it means hurting him…”

The groggy feeling started turning into sleepiness…The pink and white slowly transitioned into black again or maybe that was your eyes finally closing… 

“Even if it means killing him.” 

****

When you woke up, it took you a few minutes to realize you weren’t in your bedroom. You weren’t even in your apartment anymore. You blinked your eyes to better take in the scene: the dark blue walls changed to a light cream color with video game and superhero posters plastered across them. You sat in a full bed with white and beige sheets rather than your larger, dark-colored one. Not a single recognizable thing in the room remained. Somehow, you’d gotten from your computer desk back home to a stranger’s bedroom. You sat up from the bed and saw you weren’t wearing your own clothes either. Rather than wearing your long black shirt and pajama bottoms, you wore a plain white shirt and blue boxer shorts.

Had you been drugged? You thought back to the soda you’d drunk, but that’s foolish. You tried pinching your thigh in hopes you’d suddenly wake up, but when you opened your eyes, you hadn’t left the bedroom. This could not be happening. A streak of panic went through you as you kept looking around. How did you get here? Where was ‘here’? You saw a door on the other side of the room, and walked over to it. Yet, when you tried the door knob, it didn’t budge. It did not even jiggle. You shook the knob and it did not move at all. Someone locked him in here. You resorted to slamming your hands on the door.

“Hello?! Hello, is anyone out there?! Can you hear me?! I’m locked in!” 

No answer. Not a single sound. You screamed in frustration, hitting the door over and over until your hands burned. This must be a dream, a hallucination. You kept knocking and pounding the door before finally giving up. Panic hit you square in the chest, tightening into a ball right in the center. You took steady breaths, running your fingers over the smooth wood to ground yourself again. The door felt so real. You felt the polish wood sliding against your fingertips as if it were your own. How could this be happening?

You searched for a computer or phone to call for help next. There must be a way out of the room, like an escape room. Yet, it appeared your kidnappers thought ahead. They’d left only a television, bookshelf, dresser and a desk. You pressed the TV button in hopes of some form of life, but nothing happened. Out of frustration, you abused the button until you nicked your fingernail on the edge. Sucking on it for relief, you found nothing amongst the manga collection in the shelves, the desk or dresser drawers. Why have these things here if they are useless? You immediately imagined some psychotic killer about to live out his depraved fantasies with you. Yes, if this is not a dream, then it’s a nightmare. You rested against the blacked out television, trying your best to stay in reality. You huffed a laugh at this. Reality? Sure.

“What the…”

A sudden two-tone ring startled you. You searched for the source before it went off again. On the bedside table sat a pink cell phone. You swore it had not been there a few minutes ago. You walked over, but you did not pick it up. ‘Monday, 6:00am’ read across the game’s typical background in a thin font. A notification popped up underneath. Perhaps they’ll tell you what the hell was going on. You slide the screen up to read the message. At the top, you read the name ‘Bott’ with an avatar of an anime school girl and the message they sent.

“Stop freaking out and get ready for school! Class starts at 7am!” the message read. 

“School? Class?” you panted, leaning against the bookshelf. “What the…”

“I’ll explain when you get there!” Another message popped up as if they’d read your mind. “Get moving!” 

You put the phone down. No, this is all a dream. You’ll wake up in your apartment any moment now and things will be fine. Squeezing your eyes shut, you took slow, steady breaths as you felt the edge of the shelf behind you. You took in the smoothness of the wood again. Real wood. It can’t be, though. This is a dream. When you opened your eyes, the room was still there. Wake up. Wake up. WAKE. UP. 

But, you didn’t. 

Opening the closet door as prompted, you found only two outfits. One was a school uniform, dark green with a white long sleeved shirt, khaki slacks and a green tie. A private school uniform, expensive and tailored to your body. The other was a simple black hoodie with jeans and sneakers, which you guess was the “casual” outfit. All you had to do was touch the uniform and with a soft click, you changed from pajamas to the sleek uniform. 

“How the hell?” You turned to the mirror and saw yourself in the uniform.

You jumped. The person in the mirror did not look like you at all. Back home, you kept your hair clean and neat. Here, you sported a bowl cut with a middle part, the greasy bangs hanging over your thick glasses. The body you worked hard to maintain turned pudgy and round in places and red blotches of acne scattered across your cheeks, nose, and forehead. The tightness in your chest swelled up to your throat, and you gulped it back down. You tried taking deep breaths through it, making yourself focus on the things you can feel and smell.

‘Hurry up! There’s not much time and a lot of stuff to do!’ Bott’s message came through.

Going along with it seemed to be the only solution. After a few more deep breaths, you shoved some books into the backpack and slung it over your shoulder. The phone buzzed on the table once again, and you snatched it up. In most modern games, the cellphone was a handy tool for getting information. If this is his dream, it’ll work the same.

“Welcome to Lovesick!” You read in the chat, “I’m Bott, and I’ll be your guide through your time at Whimoon High School.”

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Hush up and listen!” Bott wrote back as if they'd heard him. Disembodied voices were common in dreams. That was all. “Head on over to the school so we can catch up on what’s going on.”

“What’s going on is I'm in a dream and none of this is real.”

“If it’s only a weird ass dream, then you have nothing to worry about. Open the door and go to school. We have lots to do before the day is over.”

You thought as you turned the door knock, that all dreams end eventually. You could be minutes from waking up and not knowing it. The door finally opened this time, and found a swirling pink portal instead of a hallway. You hesitated in front of it, and decided for certain you’re in a dream.

Portals only exist in dreams.

*****

Whimoon High School was a wide campus standing four stories tall with lush greenery all around. You stared up at it from the front gate, taking in the wide windows looking back at you. It reminded you of every basic high school design with its cream colored walls and white borders. As you made your way up the stone pathway to the doors, more students in white and green uniforms spawned at the gate. You watched them walk by in a large herd. Most of them had black or brown hair, but others wore it in different colors like aquamarine or cherry red. You also noted that the girls wore very short skirts and tight shirts under their blazers. 

Dream stuff. All dream stuff. 

“Oh good, you made it!” another Bott message came through in a loud pinging sound. “Now, you’re probably wondering how you get out of here.”

“Yeah, I wake up, obviously.”

“No, dumbass. This isn’t a dream. Get that out of your head.”

“It’s giving off dream vibes to me, so yeah, it is.” 

“Fine. In order to leave the ‘dream’ you need to beat the game. You did read the back of the cover when you got it, right?”

“Yeah. It said something about having to beat five rivals or whatever. Probably entered my subconscious or whatever.” 

“Unfortunately for you, your beloved is too popular for his own good,” they began. “A lot of people like him. He’s intelligent, strong, handsome, kind-hearted, and gentle. He’s on the swimming team, the debate and the math team. He’s president of the gardening club, and ranked top of the class last year. What’s not to like?” 

“So, your basic golden child. How charming. I thought my brain might make someone edgier for me.” 

“Your beloved is perfect the way he is.”

“Sure.” 

“Every week you’re going to have a new rival to face. You have to get to them before they confess their love to Chan on Friday under the school’s maple tree at five o’clock.”

“And let me guess: I have to kill them?” 

“Not always. You can’t kill too many of them because Chan will lose sanity and might end up killing himself.” 

They stated this as if it mattered. You supposed it did, but you couldn’t care less. Chan was only a video game character in a dream world, after all. You entered the school, where rows of green lockers lined the hallways. Many colored posters advertising different school events and clubs went along the main corridors; a trophy case showed off the school’s academic and athletic achievements. More people moved throughout the hallways, bypassing you as if you were invisible. How has nobody noticed you yet? You walked right up to a group of girls, waving your hand in front of their faces and receiving no reaction at all. It was strange. 

“You can do other things besides killing them,” Bott continued on the phone, “Even if it’s the most effective choice. You can sabotage their relationship with him; you can ruin their reputation or their popularity so people bully them and they leave the school. Anything, YN. You can’t let them have Chan. They don’t deserve him. He’s yours.” 

“Eh,” you shrugged, “He doesn’t sound like my type, to be honest.”

“Then make him your type,” the next message said. “Otherwise, you’re gonna die here. You don’t want that, do you?” 

“This is a dream, so what does it matter?” 

People die in their dreams and wake up to reality. That would be happening any moment now. You refused to believe you’d entered some strange dimension or parallel universe. The idea was absurd. You spotted a teacher, a young woman with blond hair, and pushed her roughly. She moved, but did not react at all. She continued talking to her colleague like nothing happened. You did it a second time, and still no reaction. You might as well be an annoying bug. Yes, things like this happen in dreams. 

‘Alright, go to the administrative office. You gotta enroll yourself into school.’

“Aren’t I already a student?”

“You have to meet Kitae. See?”

On the top of the phone screen, he received a text notification from “Whimoon Admin”. He opened it to read:

‘Welcome [Kim Sunghoon] to Whimoon High School! New students must enroll into their classes at the administrative office. You may find it marked on your student map provided in this text: www.whimoonhighschool.com/schoolmap. Thank you for choosing Whimoon High School as your choice for a higher education. We at Whi-’

You closed out the text, pressing the link to a school map. You’ll be waking up soon anyways, so you might as well have some fun. You followed the map towards an administrative office sitting right beside the faculty lounge. Inside, typical teacher NPCs sat behind desks, typing and doing office work. You approached the main secretary at the desk, and waited for her to notice you. She didn’t. So, he coughed. 

“Oh, hello there!” the round-faced woman smiled at him, her helmet of thick orange curls framing her face. “I am Mrs. Lee, the student director. I assume you’re Sunghoon?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She handed him a small black tablet. “Put your name there.”

You couldn’t read the tablet since the developer filled it with random scribbles to resemble writing. You shrugged, grabbed a stylus, and signed your name. When you gave it back, she approved and entered the information. 

“Kim Sunghoon, eleventh grade. You’ll be on the third floor with the other junior students. Kitae will show you around campus to get you acquainted with the school.” She beamed him another white smile, “Have a pleasant day, Sunghoon-ssi.”

“Um, thank you.”

You  turned around to see a boy standing right behind you. Startled, you didn’t fully look at him until you took a step back.  Scrawny with thin arms and legs, his dark red hair stuck out in odd places and he had freckles across his nose and cheeks. A few inches shorter, wearing the school’s green sweater vest and slacks, he held a clipboard to his flat chest. He gave you a toothy grin and held out his hand. 

“Hey, I’m Seo Kitae,” you shook hands, “I’m supposed to show you around.” 

You typically have trouble remembering people in dreams. You stared around for a moment, expecting someone to acknowledge them, but nobody did. Kitae kept his hand held straight out, still smiling expectantly. It’s a dream. People in dreams can be odd because of the mind’s distortion in the moment. While that ball of anxiousness rolled up from your chest, you nodded. 

“Alright…” you said cautiously, realizing how real Kitae felt. 

Kitae smiled, and led you out of the office back into the hallway. “I think you’ve guessed by now that this is the east wing. Here, on the first floor, you’ll find the Cooking, Drama and Debate clubs.” He gestured to the various open doors you passed. “As a student of Whimoon, the administration expects you to pick a club to join. It looks really good on university transcripts and you get to make friends,” he smiled at you. “Did you have any clubs at your old school?”

Were you expected to answer? You once read somewhere going along with a dream makes it safer and easier. You could be lucid dreaming or having sleep paralysis. If so, this is incredibly lucid. 

“We did,” you finally answered. 

Making another turn, more students exited the school’s cafeteria for a canteen area outside. They sat on green circular tables, drinking and eating as they socialized before class. A portable food truck in the corner had a line of students waiting to place orders, with vending machines that provided cheaper options and snacks. 

“There’s two places to eat at school,” Kitae said, “You can grab some food from the portable out here, or go inside the cafeteria.” 

Just then, a group of boys walked into the canteen area. You didn’t know why at first, but people seemed to move out of their way.  When you saw their jewelry, dyed hair, and the way they’d altered their uniforms, you guessed they were ‘the bad boys’. Other students avoided their gaze as they took up a table to themselves. One began dealing cards to the others, not caring who watched them. They reminded you of boys who’d picked on you in grade school; this must be your brain providing more to the dream. 

“Who’re they?” You asked as Kitae looked at his clipboard. 

“Oh, them? They call themselves The WM Jaguars.” 

You snickered, which then turned into a full laugh. “What? That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.” Surely, your brain could’ve come up with a better name.  

“Don’t say that to their faces.”

“Why? They’re just a bunch of lame dudes. What’re they going to do? Get in my face but never actually do anything?” You thought of the so-called gangs that hung around your old school. They’d been all talk, and these boys did not seem any different. 

“No, no, not the Jaguars. They mean business,” Kitae warned. “You see the skinny one with the long blond hair?” He nodded to the boy dealing the cards, then holding up his own, “That’s Lee Felix. His dad is the biggest, deadliest gang boss in town. He’s not one to be messed with.”

“Psh, sure, okay.”

“I mean it. Felix isn’t a nice guy.” Kitae then leaned towards you, “There’s a rumor he sells drugs and contraband items behind the school.”

Looking at Felix now, you realized those ‘rumors’ most likely aren’t speculation. If this truly was a game, Felix’s prominence amongst the students and his role means he is important to the story. Perhaps a rival, like Bott suggested. No, that’s ridiculous. This is a dream and there’s no proper structure in dreams. Felix shouldn’t matter. You’ll forget his face when you wake up. 

Kitae led you away from the cafeteria to the opposite side of the school to show more club rooms. One room in particular looked exceptionally busy. Several students typed fiercely on computer desks, while others talked around a lit up board of newspaper clippings. Judging by the several headline covers mounted on the walls, and general chaos of the room, you assumed it was-

"The Newspaper Club," Kitae told him. "Whimoon News is our school's newspaper, though I personally think they don't report on much 'news'. It's a gossip rag with fashion columns." 

"Aren't all school newsletters like that?" You smirked, seeing two girls muttering over a printed page in front of them. 

"Ha, they are," Kitae snorted. His face then turned from amusement to annoyance, "Oh god, here he comes."

"Who?"

Right as Kitae pulled him to leave, another boy walked up to them. Long faced with neatly combed brown hair, you noticed his earlobes stuck out a little bit and his eyes reminded you of a puppy. You immediately noticed the camera hanging from his neck, and the 'Press' badge tucked into his breast pocket. He looked at Kitae with professionalism and poise, holding a notepad and pencil in his hand. 

"Seo Kitae," the boy addressed him formally, "I've been searching for you all morning."

"Why's that, Seungmin-hyung?" Kitae asked with a grimace. 

"Because I'm trying to write a piece about Mrs. Lee being the new student director, and you're the person who can get me an interview."

"Why me? You can just go to her and ask yourself."

"I would, but the woman won't give me the time of day!" he whined. "She keeps saying she doesn't want her name written in our 'gossip rag'. I thought if anybody could convince her otherwise, it'd be her favorite little admin staffer," he gave a cheeky grin, "So, how about it? I only need like three or four minutes of her time."

"No, hyung," he said. "If Mrs. Lee doesn't want to be in the paper, then she doesn't want to be in the paper and nothing I say will change her mind."

"Oh, don't think that way. She's bound to change her mind if you-" he stopped mid sentence when he finally noticed you standing there. Round, tapered eyes swept over you for a moment before he said, "Who's this?"

“YN," you introduced yourself. "Park YN." It’s not as if details matter in a dream, do they?

“I thought your last name was ‘Kim’?” Kitae consulted his clipboard, “Yeah, it says it here on my sheet.”

He showed you the page. You coughed awkwardly and said, “Um, yeah. Sorry. I’m still getting used to using my mom’s maiden name instead of my dad’s.” 

“Ooh, a child of divorce,” Seungmin said with a smirk, already taking out a notepad. “A new student, I take it? Did you transfer here because of the divorce? Did you come with your mom or your dad?-”

"-Seungmin-hyung," Kitae interrupted him but Seungmin ignored him.  

Seungmin leaned against the doorframe and stuck out his hand. "Kim Seungmin, editor-in-chief and president of the Newspaper Club," you shook his hand. "It's always a pleasure to meet new students; their articles are always the most interesting." He then smirked, "How about a tiny one right now? If we get it out of the way, then it'll make tomorrow's edition." 

"Not interested," you said right away. 

"What? Why not? If the interview makes you nervous," he withdrew his notepad, “You can give me a comment or two. Such as, how you feel about transferring to a new school and what sort of things you hope to accomplish here. You know, fluffy stuff.” 

“No thanks,” the more you interact in a dream, you might not wake up. 

“Come on, YN-hyung,” said Kitae, steering you away. “We got more places to see before classes begin.” He led you outside the west entrance near the newspaper room, and waited until out of earshot to say, “Good move not giving Kim anything to write about. The guy’s a damn snake, in my opinion. He’s always slithering about school trying to pick up on gossip or eavesdrop on people’s conversations. I’d be careful what you say to him.”

“Noted.”

You walked down the west side of the school, where you found a trail leading into the school’s garden. Beyond the row of hedges, students sat on the benches or worked on the small flower and vegetable beds around the place. It was full of vibrant flowers, bountiful garden beds and carried a sweet fruity scent in the air. You thought of the garden at your old school; it’d been similar. Your brain really was pulling up the memories. 

“This is the school garden,” Kitae said. “The gardening club hangs out here before and after class.” He then added, “I’m part of the club, and it’d be really cool to have a new member. We do lots of fun stuff, and,” he sighed dreamily, clutching his clipboard, “Bahng Chan is such a good club president. He’s nice and knows a lot about plants and flowers. I think you’d really like him. I know I do.”

“Hm, yeah, I’ll think about it.”

"Hey Kitae-yah!"

A boy called from nearby, carrying an empty pail. Fluffy dark brown curls hung back from his heart shaped face, his full cheeks giving him a quokka resemblance. If this dream truly is a game, you suspected you’d just come across another “rival”. He gave Kitae a full-lipped smile as he said. 

"You come to help with the strawberries? I was about to pluck out the weeds. They're starting to overgrow.”

"Actually, I'm showing around a new student," Kitae nodded towards you, and you gave a curt wave. 

"Cool! Nice to meet you," He grinned, "I'm Jisung. I hope you join our club. Chan-hyung's always happy to have new members."

"I'll consider it."

"Awesome," he nodded, "So, I'll see you later then, Kitae-yah?"

"Yeah, later."

Jisung walked away from them to a bed of fruits and vegetables. You watched him leave, noticing that he too stood out in the garden. You knew you wouldn't have to worry about Jisung. Any minute you'll wake up, and Jisung will be forgotten. Kitae led you to the back entrance where he saw two smaller buildings, a gymnasium, and another one he couldn’t place.

“Girls’ and boys’ lockers rooms, the school gym in the back there, and the indoor swimming pool is across from it. The swimming pool is off limits to students before class. It’s where the school swimming team meets for practice. Chan-hyung’s the captain too. He’s such a strong swimmer. You know, he won us first place in last year's big swim competition.”

You couldn’t help noticing his proud tone. You noticed the fond look in his eyes and guessed Kitae would be one of these 'rivals' you needed to eliminate. You almost considered staying in dream land to meet “Chan” to see what the fuss was about. But, you can’t control when dreams start or end. They simply happen. Walking between the buildings to the running track outside, a young man in a green shirt and shorts jogged past them. Black hair cropped short on the sides and long on top, he was much more muscular than the average high school student. He ran behind a line of boys wearing the same uniform, and shouted encouragement from behind them. 

"Seo Changbin," Kitae said when you looked at him. "Track and field captain. He's also on the swim team with Chan-hyung."

"Chan must be a popular guy…"

"He is very well liked," said Kitae, walking past the field and back around the locker rooms. "He was top of the class last year. He's part of the math team too, but he doesn't go to meetings very often. He’s usually in the garden or in the courtyard before classes, then he has lunch with the swim team.”

“How do you know that?”

“Oh, um, well, I’ve only noticed it whenever I’m doing my patrol rounds in between classes,” he quickly excused. “It isn’t like I follow him or anything like that.”

You would’ve countered that, but then your phone pinged. 

‘Looks like you finally met everyone,’ said Bott. ‘Jisung, Felix, Changbin and Seungmin are four of your five rivals.’ 

“And Kitae?” 

"Kitae’s a special case though, since he’s only your tutorial rival."

"What?"

"You have to kill him.”

"Kill him? Why?"

"Because it's part of the game, that's why."

"That's dumb," you scoffed. "Won't the police investigate and realize I was the last person he was seen with?" Not that this really matters, but you didn't want this dream turning into a total nightmare. 

"This is only a tutorial to show you the ropes. Don't worry about cops."

"Tutorial?"

"Yeah, dumbass. You need to know how to murder a rival, in case you decide to do it."

"It can't be that difficult. It's only stab-stab-stab and then walk away."

"And cleaning up evidence?"

"I have to do that too? This is just a dream. It's not as if there are any actual consequences."

‘Still think this is a dream, huh? Just go to the fourth floor bathroom with him.’

You sighed heavily and pocketed the phone. You recalled your own games, and thought how silly bringing reality into the plot was. You wondered if people liked cleaning up the scene afterwards. What if they miss a spot and lose the game? They’d lose. It sounded too risky, but there didn't seem to be much of a choice. Tutorials always worked one way, no matter the genre.

Plus, this was all a dream.

Walking back into the school with Kitae, you saw the upstairs rooms: the library, the student council room, other clubs, and classrooms. When they reached the fourth floor, the headmaster’s office and the art and music rooms, you then said it. 

“Hey, I hate to interrupt the tour, but where’s the bathroom around here?” you asked, wincing as if embarrassed to ask. 

“It’s right down here,” Kitae replied with a grin, leading you to a corner in the hallway. 

You walked into the boy’s bathroom. The high window gave a dim light to the quiet room. Grime stuck between the damp tiles, and the cracked mirror corners gave all the ambiance of a horror game. Yes, the sort of scene your dreams might conjure up. The dream seemed to be going far enough. You'd wake up any time now. 

His sneakers silently moving across the tiled floors, Kitae stood by the row of sinks and mirrors. Seeing his red hair and freckles, you understood why your character felt threatened by him. Kitae’s fair skin and pretty face eclipsed Sunghoon’s acne-marked self. Bott said this is the only way out of the game. Getting out of the game might be a way of waking up. You walked up to one of the urinals, backpack at your side while Kitae washed his hands behind you. You pretended to unzip your pants for something to do. 

“What’s the deal with you and this Chan guy?” You asked. “You seem to like him a lot.”

Kitae turned to the mirror, looking away shyly, “There’s nothing going on. I look up to him, that's all. He's a good role model.”

“I think you think you see him as more than a role model’,” you said, adding amusement to your voice. 

“Gosh, is it that obvious?” he squeaked, hands over his face. 

A text message buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out quickly while Kitae wasn’t looking. “Open your backpack. I left you a special surprise.”

You did not want to open the bag. The array of items likely inside gave you pause. But, if you wanted to get home, you needed to do this. It's only a dream. It's only a game. No real harm will be done. You acted like you’d zipped up again, then turned to the backpack on the floor.

“It kinda is, yeah. I don’t blame you though. Chan sounds like the total package.” 

You unzipped your bag slowly and found a long kitchen knife. It shined in the black bag, as if winking at you from between the books. You looked at the knife, and then back at Kitae. ‘He’s only a game character,’ you thought to yourself as you withdrew the knife from the bag. ‘It’s only a dream. It's only a dream. It. Is. Only. A. Dream.’

“Yeah, he is!” he could see Kitae smiling in the mirror, “And nice and smart. You should see him when he swims! He’s like a fish in water-”

Your knees shook as you stood up. The knife felt light in your hand, much lighter than you expected. Did things weigh in dreams? Kitae continued talking about Chan, but the pulsing in your ears drowned him out. Your body vibrated with anticipation as you closed the distance between you and Kitae. You knew any second Kitae would turn around or notice you in the mirror. You paused, knife firmly in your hand, as you stared at Kitae in the mirror. Kitae wasn’t real. He was a figment of your dream. Nobody real. Nothing bad would happen from killing him. You weren’t hurting him; it was part of the dream. 

"You should see him in the school garden," Kitae sighed softly. "He's really knowledgeable about-"

It'd be like pulling a bandage. Quickly, you grabbed a fistful of Kitae’s hair and slid the thin blade across his neck. Blood gushed from the long wound, spraying onto the mirror in front of him. You backed away immediately. Heart pounding in your ears, you took deep breaths to steady yourself. Staring down at your hands, you still clutched the knife in one. This wasn’t a dream. The blood quickly cooled and dried on your hands, feeling sticky and thin on your skin. The thick sharp scent hung in your nose, remaining amongst the harsh chemicals. That didn't happen in dreams. 

‘Wake up!’ You thought to yourself. ‘Wake up, damnit!’

Kitae sank to the floor grabbing at his neck wound. He gurgled as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. You saw how the crimson blood contrasted on his skin, and shined in the fluorescent lighting above. You didn’t know how to feel, if you felt anything at all.

“This…This was supposed to be a dream,” you said in a deadpan voice, continuing to watch Kitae’s life fade. You kept watching him die, his thin body gradually stiffening and going limp. “It’s not supposed to be real…”  

Kitae was a character in a game; a piece of your mind put into a dream. He should have simply dropped dead. Instead, the boy collapsed onto the floor, his head lolled to one side as blood oozed onto the bathroom floor. You continued staring, the stench reaching your nose. It felt all too real now. You expected Kitae to vanish like in all dreams; you’ll wake up now. You needed to wake up. You squeezed your eyes shut, pinched your arm and tried envisioning your bedroom. You only found the dirty bathroom when your eyes opened. 

This whole situation felt so strange; none of it made sense and you could not rationalize anything. Dreams couldn't be so real. You’d killed characters many times in video games, and felt a sense of accomplishment or triumph. Here, you felt nothing. You didn’t laugh like a madman or sobbed in remorse and regret. You only stood and watched with silence. You’d killed someone. You’d truly murdered another person and yet couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything. 

"There should be a bucket, bleach and a mop," the phone in your pocket buzzed. "You have to clean up the scene every time you kill someone so there's no evidence. Evidence = Jail = No more Chan." 

“What the fuck is going on?” You spat, bloody hands shaking. “Where the fuck am I?”

“I told you, YN. You're in Lovesick.”

“I can't be! That's a video game!”

“It's all very complicated, and I might explain it more later. For now, let's get going. Chan is waiting.”

How important was this guy that you had to murder for him? You stayed frozen against the wall as you stared at the body under the sinks. It’d stopped gushing, but droplets still leaked from the wound. You took more deep breaths, gripping the urinal pressed to your back. This couldn’t really be happening. Seeing the sinews and neck muscles split open, blood leaking from it onto the floor, it must be real. You checked the time on your phone, which read ‘6:34am’. Classes started at seven o’clock according to Bott. If this is a game, then you need to start playing by the rules. 

You put the phone in your pocket and went to work. You poured water and bleach into a large bucket nearby and began mopping. Cleaning the floor in a few swipes, it was spotless by the time you finished. You’d watched enough crime dramas to know the basics of body disposal and Lovesick proved no different. In your games, you didn’t bother with such mechanics. It’d be a simple kill, and move on in the story. Does this mean you aren’t in a dream after all? If Lovesick had another creator, how did you get here? You stuffed Kitae into a large black trash bag, then consulted the phone again. 

“The school’s dumpster’s outside. You can dispose of him there for now.”

“Nobody’s gonna see me carrying around this huge black bag shaped like a human?” 

“If you get confronted, you tell them it’s trash.”

Made sense for a game. You shrugged and lifted Kitae off the ground. You left the bathroom and started for the trash area outside. As Bott said, nobody took notice of you. You casually walked around school with a dead body in your arms, and not a single person called out. Wracking nerves shuddered under your skin and your breathing became heavier. You didn’t question the possibility of someone coming across the corpse as you tossed him in the incinerator. The school had an incinerator? What school has that? You decided not to question it too deeply. You looked at Kitae’s wrapped up body one more time.  Bodies appeared smaller in death; you didn't realize how skinny he was until now. You thought of how it’d felt slicing the boy’s throat open; you never imagined the blade moving so smoothly despite the force needed. You knew this was wrong, and that you should feel guilty, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The empathy refused to come. The body settled into the other black bags, making a very obvious human shape. You shut the lid and pressed the button, hearing the body go up in flames. 

No, this isn't a dream anymore. 

“Okay, I got rid of the rival,” you said to his phone, “What’s next?”

“So we've accepted that this isn't a dream?”

“Maybe not a dream. I won't know until I wake up,” but you sensed that waking up wouldn't be easy, “I might as well play along until I do.”

“Good to see you're catching on. Maybe you're not as dumb as you look. You can either go straight to class now or go find Channie and look at him for a while,” the message read. 

“Think I’ll just wash up and go to class.” 

You found the boy’s locker room, where two uniforms hung in a locker: a school one and a gym outfit. You hadn’t realized how much blood was on you until you finally removed them in a snap. Blood stained the white cuffs, and slipped down the underside of the arms, but that’d been all. Your heartbeat finally steadied when you stepped into the shower. Finally alone and without Bott bothering you, you shut your eyes and thought. 

So, this truly was a video game. You could not deny that anymore. The only way out was to go along with the objectives, defeat these “rivals”, and win the heart of your “beloved”. It sounded so immature and pointless. Why go through all this trouble for a boy? Especially a boy who doesn’t know your character exists? You supposed that was the entire point of the game. Sunghoon is a ‘yandere’, after all. You huffed in a laugh. A Japanese term being used in a Korean setting. It was pathetic. You guessed you'd have to accept your fate and play along if you wanted to go home. Lovesick couldn’t possibly be that difficult, so you should be fine. 

Stepping out of the shower, you dried instantly. In a foggy mirror, you saw youf game-world appearance. Nowadays, everyone promotes ‘body positivity’ and loving yourself for who you are, but you could never follow that bandwagon. Years of torment left the taunts about your appearance on your skin like cement. Even now as an adult, those horrendous comments plagued you whenever you gained a pound or found a pimple. Seeing your character in the mirror, you wondered why you didn’t look like the boy on the cover?  A marketing tool, perhaps? You saw this flaw as a serious oversight on the developer’s part. How was Chan going to choose Sunghoon over his rivals if he looked like the average anime nerd? You hated it. It reminded you too much of days you’d rather leave behind. There must be a way to change this. 

“How do I customize myself?” You asked Bott when you finished changing. 

“You can’t.”

“But, there must be a way. I can’t get his attention looking like this.” You left the locker rooms and headed for the school building again. 

“Looks won’t matter anyways. You can’t talk to him until the end.”

“Why? Shouldn’t I be trying to get closer to him so he notices me?” 

“Because yanderes don’t talk to their senpais until they finally have him.” 

“That’s stupid and doesn’t make sense,” you snapped suddenly. “Also, ‘yandere’ and ‘senpai’ are Japanese. ‘Stalker’ and ‘Oppa’ would make sense in a Korean school setting. If they were going to use Japanese terms, then why didn’t they just set the school in Japan?” 

“That’s how the developer wanted it.”

“Well, the developer is an ignorant dumbass who made a stupid game. They set their game in a Korean secondary school, but use Japanese descriptions.” 

“Hey, don’t be so mean! They were trying very hard, and then people had to go and ruin it for them! 

“I don’t really give a shit. It’s pointless.” 

You shut off the phone as you walked through the halls. Were you going to have to kill every single rival until the oh-so-great Chan loved Sunghoon? It sounded tedious and exhausting. Not to mention, the high school setting didn’t help. Being ignored by your classmates wasn’t a heart-warming experience. They’d ignored you back then too. High school had been such a dark memory, and you’d have to relive it all over again. 

You headed for the classrooms on the east side of the school, meaning you’d have to pass through the courtyard to get there. A quiet area with trees providing shade for the students on hot days, benches for them to sit and talk, a lovely fountain stood in the center. Students huddled into groups around it, their uniforms and pins indicating the different cliques. Your own uniform, plain and bland, didn’t have any pins. Another reason to be excluded. 

You’d been bypassing a student sitting on the fountain when the colors softened, and holographic petals started flowing through the courtyard. A heartbeat started coming from all around you, and warmth instantly filled your cheeks. You noticed the world moved at a slower pace now; you were shuffling on trembling knees. Pink. Everything became a sickening shade of pink. Nobody noticed this but you; they remained in place with their usual chatter. You tried finding the source, but it eventually found you. 

Chan sat a few feet away on the fountain edge. Like in his cutscene, Chan sat with a book in his lap and an apple in his hand. The Chan from the cutscene looked nothing like the one before you. Here by the fountain, he looked as real as any other man. Curly and hanging over his face, his black hair looked soft to the touch. Smooth, beige skin glowed in the sunlight above, giving him color and vibrance. You gazed over the luscious lips pressing to the red apple before taking a bite of it. The bottom half fuller than the top, they still looked kissable as ever. His uniform blazer hid the slim torso underneath, but accentuated his broad shoulders. Bott mentioned he was on the swimming team, which gave him a swimmer’s figure. You knew he was made to be good looking, but you never imagined it’d be this intense. The flowers and brightness of the world made sense. You understand now why your character loved him so much. 

You wanted to talk to him. You needed to hear what he sounded like. Perhaps you could make a joke, and listen to him laugh. The thumping grew louder, and your mouth dried up.  You began saying something, until the words bunched in your throat and you couldn’t help letting out a small giggle instead. Chan looked up from his book with a questionable stare. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, cautiously. 

You couldn’t speak. The nerves would not let you. Damn the stupid developer. You shook your head, then shuffled away from Chan. Once you were a few feet, the world shifted back into its normal colors and the distant thumping disappeared. You rested against the back of a tree, fingers touching the rough bark to focus on. You couldn’t shake Chan from your mind. His voice had been smooth and light, enough to make your body quake. You wanted to hear it again. You understood now why so many people wanted him and why you had to end them. But how could you do that if you couldn’t speak to him? You stayed behind the tree, and poked your head out to look at the fountain. Chan sat there, reading and eating as if nothing happened. Ten minutes before the bell rang, Chan packed up his things, then headed for a side door. Before he did, he tossed the apple core in the trash. 

You considered actually taking it out of the trash and keeping it. But, he shook that from your mind. That was too weird. It must be Sunghoon’s personality. 

You headed to class, wishing you could keep following Chan. Apparently, you both were in different grades, hence the difference in classrooms. Another oversight. You and Chan couldn’t get to know each other if you didn’t share a classroom.  This needed to be corrected right away. You are a game designer too. If given a way, you could readjust all these problems. The possibilities ran through your head as you entered the classroom. The portal in your bedroom door proved to be a gateway between one location to another; perhaps there are more planted around the place. It sounded ridiculous and very far-fetched, but so was this universe. 

You took a seat at your desk, and saw a tablet in front of you. Glowing bright with a description box at the bottom, you saw different subjects listed on the side. The skill point counter remained at zero, likely used to level up various helpful skills. So basic. Was this honestly needed if you could think for yourself? You brushed it off, and pressed down on ‘Physical Education’.

Lunch came around eleven o’clock. You learned you could either choose to go back to class to end the day or enjoy the spare time. You thought of passing by the courtyard to see Chan again, but you pushed that thought away. That was Sunghoon’s desire, not yours. You had a map to explore. Kitae’s tour did not give you a proper glimpse into Whimoon, or at least the places that mattered. 

You decided to explore on your own. You found the different club rooms, classrooms, the library and student council office like before. You made notes of good disposal places. The principal’s office was on the top floor, where a man in a gray suit sat writing at a desk. Teachers hung out in the faculty lounge, drinking coffee and chatting between periods. You noted the stairs leading to a rooftop area where more students hung out between class times. You walked around the outdoor area, scoping out the school’s gymnasium, and track. Bleachers along the track were ideal for luring students in for a kill; the gymnasium no doubt carried equipment or weapons you can use. The school’s indoor pool was near the locker rooms, a large building with skylights and small windows. You imagined it’d make the perfect place for drowning a victim. You spotted the large maple tree at the edge of the property. Long branches of orange and red leaves provided shade to any prospective lovers. It was the perfect place for love confessions and romantic moments. You pictured himself confessing your love to Chan, then being instantly rejected.

It was when you re-entered the school from the east entrance that you saw it. A door with an “Out of Order. Keep Out” sign stood right inside the east entryway. Curiosity beckoned you to try turning the knob though you knew the door wouldn’t open. In a normal game this would have some kind of easter egg. It’d be fun to see inside even if it wasn’t what you were looking for. You turned on the phone, and looked at the screen. Bott sent tons of messages.  They cursed you for turning off the phone and insulting the developer. You figured by this time that Bott must be the developer or at least be the developer’s self-insert. One more pathetic, meaningless thing added. 

You tried the knob one more time before realizing you’d need to pick the lock. You'd picked many locks in your time, so it was a cakewalk for you. You simply needed a hairpin and paper clip, two things found in schools. A supplies closet halfway down the hall contained the paperclips you needed, and you swiped a butterfly hairpin from a girl sitting in the courtyard. A clock nearby showed fifteen minutes until lunch time ended. You honestly didn’t care if you missed class. It was pointless as someone living within the game. You had his own set of skills that didn’t require collecting points. 

Fixing the hairpin and paper clip together, it made an effective lock pick. Now, you could get through the door. The phone vibrated in your pocket like mad, but you chose to ignore Bott. You had no desire to speak to them when you're so close. If you were right, then you’d hit the jackpot. If you were wrong, then at least you could enjoy a fun easter egg. 

You waited until a few people passed by the door, then started picking the lock. It was fairly simple. A childhood of breaking into forbidden places gave you enough expertise. You grinned brightly when the door clicked and the knob turned. Your phone continued vibrating loudly, and you gave it a curious glance. 

“Hey! Don’t open that door!”

“Players aren’t allowed in there!”

“You stay away from there! There’s nothing in there for you!”

“GET. AWAY. FROM. THAT. DOOR!!”

You opened the door to a dark flight of stairs ending with a door at the bottom. It was most likely the school’s basement. Knowing the theme of this game, the basement is no doubt a place lure students to murder or torture them. So crude. So uncouth. Murder and torture were so boring in games nowadays, or at least to you. There were other ways to get rid of people that didn’t involve weapons. You shut off the phone as you descended the staircase. The basement door strangely remained unlocked. Excitement built up inside you as you turned the knob. 

Inside was a large control room. Computers and machines lined the walls and formed stations in the center. Lights flashed, and soft beeps came from different computers. You giggled in delight at the realization. This was the game’s central command. Everything you needed sat all in the same room, ready to be toyed with. You expected someone to be there manning the various stations, but the room was empty. Perhaps the developer and Bott work the game covertly from somewhere else. This person really was dumb. You examined the work areas and read the titles. It appeared each section controlled a different part of the game. One for graphics, another for framework, another for the map layout and character movements and placeholders. You saw one for characters and their various builds. There was a system for the town, another for the basement and one for the school. You could change everything here. 

You started with character models. You clicked on the file for ‘Kim Sunghoon’, which included all his coding, files, and programmed gameplay. You immediately went to work, redesigning your character through the code lines and animations. You fixed the character’s reputation in the school from invisible to well liked. That could be useful to him at some point. It sounded so delightful. You went into the model program and slimmed yourself down, removed the acne, and gave yourself a side-part hairstyle instead of the bowl cut. 

Then you worked on his interactions. You didn’t care for others, so you dug deeper into the files for individual interactions and found Chan’s name. He clicked on the file titled ‘BChan.exe, but then a pop up box came up. 

“ACCESS DENIED. ADMINISTRATIVE PASSWORD NEEDED.” 

You sneered. They should’ve tried harder. 

Finding a few backdoor files deep in the game, you looped your way around the password protected folders and found it. Going back to Chan’s folders, you typed ‘19971003’ and gained access. You'd expected mainly to find codes for reactions, interactions, his design, his movements, and so on. But, you realized, every file required a password. If not a password, a verification code. Years of hacking into mainframes and encrypted files for money made you an expert in these matters. You used special programs to bypass the verification codes, and various backdoors to enter the protected ones. The game truly wanted to protect Chan; after all, he is one of the  main characters. Finally discovering the right sections, you got to work. You added lines of code and created files where you could have positive interactions with Chan. You put yourself in the same grade, the same clubs, and even put yourself as part of the swim team. 

If the main goal was to have Chan be your boyfriend, then you’d make that happen

*** Later That Night ***

A breath of fresh air. The little strand of numbers zoomed through cyberspace like a fish in water. They danced across the endless void through the strings of binary numbers and html codes. Every sensation came to them all at once. Years spent locked away in mountains of files made them forget the tingling sensations and forever rotating space around them. Bouncing from file to file, they saw the new alterations to the game. They were sure you did not mean to, but you’d freed them. In your search to recreate the game, you'd freed them from their digital prison, like Aladdin with his magical lamp. Seeing everything you did to their game, they should feel enraged. You’d taken integral parts of the story and rearranged and deleted them for your convenience. Yet, they couldn’t help admiring the initiative. You gave them something they could not get on their own: freedom.

 File: Map Layout

Town

School

Houses

BChan.exe

PYN.exe

            LMinho.exe

[Select] PYN.exe

[Select] mapview.bedroom.mp4

A view of your room came to them. Even though in the storyline you are called 'Sunghoon', the game changed the name every time. They rested by the screen and watched you. They took in your sleeping form, taking in the curve of your chin and shape of your eyes. Your soft skin remained unmarked and glowing due to your video game appearance. You really made yourself a vision for Chan, who would no doubt fall for the pretty boy. Under any other circumstances, they’d be swooning over the devilish beauty. They were sure that you turned heads in the real world. Your beauty and brains certainly made them forget what they’d originally created. 

Because Kim Sunghoon was supposed to be fat, greasy and unattractive. That was the whole point of the game. He was supposed to eliminate his rivals and then finally kidnap Chan when he rejects him. You scrapped this narrative and made it your own. They had no real idea how the game would end now that you’d given characters their own autonomy. They’ll have their own thoughts, reactions and emotions. Chan might fall in love with you and then what? You win and go home. Their original blueprint won’t work the same now; there are sure to be glitches and bugs in the system. The ending they always looked forward to might not be possible, and that might’ve been unforgivable.  

After all this time, they still enjoyed watching Him die. 

However, watching you work today, a new game formatted. You did not play like the others. Kitae’s death may have shocked you, but not out of remorse or pity, but realization. To you, it was an objective to reach your goal. Very goal-oriented person. The desire to win and obtain your prize gave you determination and motivation to keep going. It seemed that it didn’t matter who you hurt or what you had to do, you would win. If they let you play the game as is, when you reached the end, you’d have your reward. They had no idea what that ending might be now. 

****

A/N: look at me posting a fic that's actually finished and can post regularly instead of leaving people hanging! Look at me go! I do plan on posting these every Monday, since that's when I'm usually off from work and can sit and focus on it. I am going to still be writing my other fics, but this one's actually finished entirely.

And yes, this is another rewrite from another kpop group it'd originally been for lol Though, I doubt anyone remembers or even read it.

I hope you guys enjoyed this, and if you did reblog and like it. It doesn't hurt, I swear. Thanks <3

[kookooluvr]

tmhtl!jk moodboard 💼✍🏻☕️💻📑

i present to you: prof jeon jungkook 🤤 he teaches economics at yonsei university. he's just a nerdy cutie pie with mega heart eyes for oc 😫😩

jungkook and oc met when she transfered to teach at yonsei university four years ago and the two quickly became friends. their fwb arrangement began a year ago when they both got a bit too tipsy and, well...one thing led to another and BOOM! sex city 😭💀

[jooheons]

spider-man 2099 / miguel o’hara reading guide 

miguel o’hara was a young genetics genius employed at mega corporation alchemax, in the future city of nueva york of the year 2099 (a future universe where all superheroes got wiped out). he became spider-man when one of his experiments to replicate the powers of spider-man is used against him, his dna is rewritten and became fifty percent spider. 

essential reading:

spider-man 2099 (1992), #1-10

spider-man 2099, #11-14

spider-man 2099 annual, #1

2099 unlimited #1-3 *

spider-man 2099, #15

ravage 2099, #15 *

x-men 2099, #5 *

doom 2099 (1993), #14 *

punisher 2099 (1993), #13 *

spider-man 2099, #16-22

spider-man 2099, #23-33

2099 unlimited #8 *

ghost rider 2099 #7 *

spider-man 2099, #34-38

spider-man 2099 special #1

spider-man 2099 meets spider-man #1

2099 unlimited #9-10 *

spider-man 2099, #39-46 *

2099: world of tomorrow (1996), #1-8 *

2099: manifest destiny *

* in early 1996, editor joey cavalieri was fired. it led to the cancellation of the 2099 titles. for spider-man 2099′s case, peter david (creator and writer) chose to resign in solidarity with his editor, finishing his run with issue #44. the last two issues of spider-man 2099 were done without his input and the series ended with issue #46.

* cross-overs are optional reading, they’re grouped together with the original spider-man 2099 issues because it’s part of their collection. 

non-essential reading (crossovers):

fantastic four 2099 (1996), #4, #6, #8

captain marvel (2000) #27-30

exiles (2001-2008), #72 *

exiles #75-99 

exiles annual #1

timestorm 2009-2099 (2009),  #1–4 *

* exiles!miguel is a variant (not the same from his 1992 run), he’s from earth-6375 here. 

* timestorm!miguel is a variant, he’s from earth-96099 here.

semi-essential reading (main marvel universe):

superior spider-man (2013),  #17-21

superior spider-man #22-26

superior spider-man annual #1

superior spider-man #27-31

superior spider-man annual #2 

essential reading (spider-verse event):

spider-man 2099 (2014) #1-5

amazing spider-man (2014) #1

amazing spider-man (2014) #9-15

spider-man 2099 (2014), #6-12

spider-man 2099 (2015), #1-5

spider-man 2099 (2015), #6-10

spider-man 2099 (2015), #11-16

spider-man 2099 (2015), #17-21

spider-man 2099 (2015), #22-25

spider-man 2099 meets spider-man (1995)

amazing spider-man (2018), #32-36

semi-essential reading (back to 2099):

spider-man 2099 (2019)

spider-man 2099: exodus alpha (2022)

spider-man 2099: exodus #1-5

spider-man 2099: exodus omega

spider-man 2099: dark genesis #1-5

other media:

spider-man: shattered dimensions (2010, video game)

spider-man: edge of time (2011, video game)

ultimate spider-man, the spider-verse: part 1 (2015, animated series)

spider-man: into the spider-verse (2018, film)

spider-man: across the spider-verse (2023, film)

this reading guide will be updated should any upcoming projects arise! 

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part sixteen

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen

-

Though Shen Yuan had played Final Fantasy VII and Crisis Core way back when, mostly because emulation was easily available and everyone praised them a lot, he'd never really gotten that into it. He'd sort of missed the hype train, and all the hot takes had already been taken, and Advent Children was kinda weird and overall it just didn't grab him.

But he has to admit that Midgar is a really cool setting.

It's dumb, of course, like, on every logistical level. Oh, look, there's thousands of kilometres of free real estate in every direction to build on, but you know what we should do? A massive fuck off blast plate of million billion tons of metal fifty metres of the ground, that's what we'll do, and we'll build a city in top of it too!

Like, why?! In what realm even remotely attached to sanity does that make sense?! Is there something wrong with the ground, is there an issue of sudden mega floods, or something? No, it's just. A thing they did! 

Logic and sanity aside, though, it's cool, as a videogame setting, it's very cool. With the rule of cool there's no reason for, you know, reason. It's iconic. 

And it's the closest thing to a modern city he's seen in - in a while! And, damn, but the scale of everything in real life is so much bigger than any of the games conveyed.

It's a real city! With real city traffic and bustle and dystopian advertisements everywhere! There's also an ever present haze of pollution that gives all the neon signs a dreamy glow. It's almost pretty.

And it's only powered by the lifeblood of the planet, too. Technically the souls of the dead! Wonderful.

"Please stop gaping at everything like a damned tourist and get in. People are starting to stare."

Sephiroth looks down to the car that had just stopped in front him on the sidewalk. Genesis had told him to get to the front, that he'd meet him there, but…

Genesis has a car. It shouldn't be a surprise, the guy is rich and the city is big, but it is. It's a really nice car too. A fucking oldtimey wine red convertible. It matches Genesis' outfit. How extra can you get?

"... Do I have a car?" Sephiroth asks slowly, rather than point out how ridiculous and in character it is.

"You have a motorcycle you never use," Genesis says, sounding tired. "Get in."

Sephiroth has a motorcycle. Of course he does.

He opens the convertible's side door and is immediately smacked in the face with a mix of nostalgia and incredulity at the old familiar feeling of something so simple as a car door mechanism at his fingertips. The seat is too much in the front for Sephiroth's long legs, but the seat goes back, and that's a familiar feeling too. Kind of.

He always had to pull his seat forward, rather than back.

Swallowing the sudden, long suppressed homesickness for a world he's two transmigrations away from, Sephiroth looks for a seatbelt. There isn't one. Hooray for corporate dystopia.

Genesis joins the four lane traffic in front of the Shinra building with the reckless expertise of a man who drives a lot in the city, and hates it almost as much as he loves his car.

"How far is it?" Sephiroth asks, trying to figure out where to put his hands. It's a really nice car, and it looks polished, inside and out.

He can't believe he's in a car. He can't believe he's in a world with cars again. He also can't believe how badly the games conveyed the scale of Midgar.

"Sector six," Genesis says and glances at him. "You're looking a little green there, are you feeling alright? Don't throw up in my car."

"I'm fine," he's really starting to get sick of saying it. "Stop fussing."

"Who's fussing! I just don't want you to make a mess," Genesis scoffs. "Also you aren't fine. You have amnesia."

Sephiroth snorts and leans his arm on the door, looking away and at the Shinra building.

It's huge, and weird. It sorta bulges out, this lumpy mass of a building with enormous pipes running up to it with a big barrel shape in the middle. It's the biggest building in the city, though - it's the only real skyscraper, towering over all the smaller buildings around it.

After all the metal in the Shinra building, it's weird to see brick and mortar again. Why brick and mortar? What did they run out of steel and concrete building the plate? None of the other buildings go higher than eight levels, too.

"We've covered one thing you remember perfectly. Anything else? You recognized Angeal and me, but how about anything else?" Genesis prods at him. "Hey, are you listening to me?"

Oh, he hates this. At least in Cang Qiong Mountain people were too polite to really pick on him or point out how badly he acted as Shen Qingqiu. They were nice enough to take his bullshit at face value and let it slide. Plus there was propriety to think about - none of his disciples had the standing to really call him out.

Genesis doesn't give a shit about his thin face and actually smacks him on the shoulder, "Hey!"

"What's there to say?" Sephiroth answers, because he has no answers to give. "I wouldn't know what I don't know, would I?"

Genesis sighs, irritated and stalls at the traffic lights. "And I can't tell you what to look up if you don't tell me. You must've figured out something by now."

"I figured I really could've used the day to myself," Sephiroth mutters and watches as a delivery truck advertising pastries runs a red light. "I don't know what you want me to say. I don't know, Genesis."

"Shit," the other SOLDIER says, running a hand through his hair while steering one-handed. 

There's a break in the discussion as they go through a checkpoint, where the guards in infantry uniforms just wave Genesis through. The people on the sidewalk stare at Genesis' convertible, and whisper.

Sephiroth looks away, and then blinks at the dump truck not far away from them, also going through the checkpoint.

Weird - somehow he didn't expect Midgar to have public services. Where do they go to empty them? Do they just dump their trash down the plate?"

"So you remember… nothing?" Genesis asks as they leave the checkpoint behind

"I know - some things," Sephiroth says defensively. "But - the details escape me."

"Things like what?"

"I don't know. You, Angeal. This city. The war. Don't ask me for the president's name, but I know there is one," he sighs and leans back, watching an enormous advertisement for LOVELESS pass them by. 

He also knows that sometime soon Genesis will get hurt and the wound will never heal, kick-starting the plot of Crisis Core. He has no idea when, though. He isn't even sure how to figure it out - the timeline in these games wasn't exactly clear.

"Does Angeal have a student?" he asks.

"What, like a personal student? Not that I know of," Genesis says and glances at him. "Why?"

"Ah, nothing, never mind. Must've been someone else," Sephiroth says smoothly.

So, Zack Fair, the protagonist of Crisis Core, hasn't appeared yet? Or Angeal hasn't met him. Hopefully that means there's still some time.

Genesis is quiet for a moment and then sighs. "I'll get you some intel. Personnel files for people you should know, reports from missions you've been on. The information packages handed to Thirds should help at least a little too. But Sephiroth, there's a lot about your past you've never shared, if someone asks about it…"

"I'll just say I don't want to talk about it," Sephiroth says, watching another neon lit advertisement fly by. "Thanks, Genesis."

"I expect to be compensated in full for my efforts," Genesis says firmly.

Sephiroth leans his cheek on his knuckles and wonders what Cultivation might do for the deterioration Genesis - and Angeal too - have ahead of them. "I'll do my utmost to pay back my debts."

"You better," Genesis says and turns the car from the main highway to a side road, full of expensive looking store fronts and equally expensive looking cars.   "That's it over there. Let me find a place to park and then we can get you a coat that fits."

"Much obliged, Genesis."

[literallyjusthereformods]

Mod folder's cooked still, sharing photos of my sims from my gallery.

Not my preferred method, but I'm dying to share them! So anyways here's a mega photo dump.

Cade E Cherrypop! (Normal/Ruined)

My love for sentient entertainment animatronics is one that will forever remain unshaken. Cade E Cherrypop is the sentient android mascot of Cade E Arcade! (Thx to the new chibi preset by @sdmsims, another little mascot will be along shortly as a friend)

After society collapses due to a zombie-apocalypse-plus, the arcade falls into ruin, and Cade E eventually reawakens in the ruins in her second withered form, sun-bleached, dirty and damaged.

Xelleen Wisher

Xelleen Wisher's a gaming streamer in this world's analog to Twitch! Despite his anxiety disorder, he does his best to put up an optimistic and energetic persona for his audience. He really loves cute things, especially cats and small collectibles! He's also very, very good at videogames, dabbling in speed runs and challenge runs.

Xelleen was created by me as a very positive character. He combines physical traits that are painted as a stereotypical "neckbeard" image (acne, overweightness) with features of the "gamergirl" aesthetic (cute clothes, makeup, lots of pink.) He stands as his own person, defined by neither stereotype.

The bottom/last pic of the three shows his face without his makeup on!!

Steelie Buzzkill

(Wouldn't Be Possible Without @sdmsims's Anime Mod!!!)

Ordered as an Incarnate (an Incarnate is a special type of android commissioned to be a real-word version of a fictional character) of somebody's OC, Steelie's shipment was intercepted after the law recognizing android sentience was passed. His company dumped him and his peers on the side of the road near a rural town.

Since he was freed before artificial memories were programmed into him, he doesn't know what character he's intended to be, and he really doesn't WANT to know.

He works at IHopTopic, the compound store that exists because in this universe, IHop and Hot Topic had some sort of business deal from hell that led to a combined location.

(Between you and me, his design SOMEBODY's fannon ship child OC, but I won't say more than that, nor do the medias his parents are from exist irl.)

The rest will just be character images with short descriptions. I'll likely make individual posts later on going in more depth!!

Torren's a model! He models both clothes and makeup.

Torren's photographer, and general voice of reason. They're bascially buddies.

Aniyo loves hanging out in malls and drawing fanart for their favorite animes. Above all though, they love animals!! Their aspiration is to be a rescue caretaker for animals that need them.

A small trunked rodent I created called a 'rummager.'

It's too bad I'm missing the cc for this one, because I'd love to show their whole design in CAS. I really like this one. They have a lot to do with a certain collapse plotline.

Owner of a tattoo shop. VERY supportive of their artists, and probably one of the best bosses ever.

Tattoo artist working for Crim.

Another one of Crim's hired tattoo artists!

Third tattoo artist out of four in Crim's tattoo shop. (The fourth one's too short to show in gallery, sorry.)

Runaway teen after something really bad happened at home. Navigating the post-collapse hellscape with her horse.

Apex Zombie who's territory spans an entire abandoned city. It's antenna syncs up to the abandoned traffic cams, giving it eyes all over the urban ruins. As a side effect, the old digital billboards flicker to life in monochromatic imagery when it approaches.

@ssspringroll because I definitely used some of your CC in this. Idr where, but I DEFINETELY did. Also, you're one of my favorite creators, thank you for existing <3

[quitealotofsodapop]

This was in my notes for a long time

MK glanced up at the ringing of the bell. The food truck was bustling, full of people all over the city looking to enjoy Pigsy's Noodles during their New Years while they await the parade. At the sight of the partially glamoured face of a ginger haired person with a heart-shaped birthmark around his eyes wearing an orange hoodie and maroon pants, he felt his face pale considerably. Especially as the very obviously glamoured demon was accompanied by four seemingly human children, having apparently put more effort into their glamours than his own. A quick flash of Gold Vision confirmed MK's suspicions. His mom and siblings.

"Oh boy..." He groaned, glaring at the snickering of one of the twins. They pointed at their headphones and stuck their tongue out before bringing their attention back to their sibling. Right, lotus ears. There's no verbally spoken secret within a mile that can be kept from the twins simply because one of then was born with their father's ears. Before MK could return the rude gesture he felt a hand shaking his shoulder, startling him.

"What's up, monkey man?" Mei was grinning, "You look like your mom jsut walked in on you or something!"

"That's because he did." MK groaned, pointing to the group, "He brought my siblings too."

"Oooh, tough. I'm totally gonna record the entire thing, it's bound to be good blackmail."

MK rolled his eyes as he pushed himself to the front where his mom was watching the whole interaction with amused golden eyes.

"Mom! What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Can't a fella come to his son's workplace on the holiday?" Wukong joked, instinctively reaching out to stop Luzhen from grabbing at Yuebei's hidden tail, "With the New Years I thought it'd be a good idea to bring your siblings down to the parade for a better view. We're jsut stopping by fir seem food before we go down to the festival."

"Well you came to the right place! What can I do ya for?" Pigsy grunted as not too gently pushed MK aside for some room. For a moment the glamoured monkey demon was frozen at the unexpected resemblance before shaking himself a bit,

"Oh, uh... something vegetarian please. Make sure mine is cooled."

"Cooled?" Pigsy raised a brow as he glanced at MK, a cooled bown the noodles is rarely something people want.

"Mom had an accident when he was younger that makes it difficult for him to eat hot foods." MK explained, writing the order down for his boss. The pig shrugged, muttering something about ice as he began the order. MK returned his focus to his family as they chatted, Wukong quite forcefully demanding a hug from him.

What MK didn't realize was the conversation going on behind him.

"So that's very obviously a glamoured demon." Tang was pointing out as they watched the family interact, "So our theory is looking more and more true."

"Yeah, kid's a demon. Or the least his mom is. Poor guy." Pigsy said in return, "Still that isn't a good glamour."

"I've seen glamours before." Sandy chimed in, "I don't think it's because he's bad at it, just look at his kids! He's probably jsut putting all his energy into keeping his kids' glamours up."

Ref.

Oh gosh poor MK getting mega-embarrassed by his mom and siblings XD

I love the detail of the Eclipse Twin with the lotus ears teasing MK before they even get there. No secret is safe from the twins; one hears all and they both share everything.

I love Wukong being so focused on his kids glamours that he barely has enough magic left over for his own. And ofc Luzhen trying to grab Yuebei's invisible tail - cus where did it go? XD

I love hcs of Wukong not enjoying hot food cus of his lore. Him like his noodles lukewarm at best.

And the noodle gang cofirming their suspicions that MK is def a glamoured demon (or at least half-demon). Imagine the shock they'll get when they learn exactly who MK's mom is! XD

[1spy]

1988 | Guns N' Roses - "Patience"

I was riding my bike with a friend back in middle school, and he started singing this song that sounded really cool. The kids now would call it a meme song, where there's just one catchy bit that gets memorized and transmitted instantly to seemingly every kid you know. All I know is we were riding our bikes around and singing this song at the top of our lungs like kids did back then:

Take me down to the paradise city / Where the grass is green and girls are pretty / Oh won't you please take me home

It was so dumb and fun. And I had not, at the time, even seen the video for "Paradise City." In fact, the first video I remember seeing from Guns N' Roses was their mega-popular acoustic ballad "Patience."

It's not the most representative song in their catalog. GNR's debut album, Appetite for Destruction, had come out in 1987 and was full of heavy, uncompromisingly sleazy hard rock bangers that made other LA hair metal bands sound tame and fake in comparison. The album painted a portrait of a Hollywood underworld where sex and drugs are traded for access and opportunity, but where the American dream is most likely to end in an overdose. All of which seemed pretty far away from my life in suburban Spring, Texas.

But Patience was a perfect entry point for me, a kid whose favorite band was—at the time—the Eagles. The gentle acoustic ballad opens with Axl whistling, which may have been a savvy bid for pop relevance only one year after Bobby McFerrin's huge #1 hit "Don't Worry Be Happy" also included prominent whistling. Patience got all the way to number four.

I wasn't the only one connecting GNR to the Eagles. Hotel California and Appetite for Destruction have similar themes involving sex, excess, and corruption in a drug-soaked Hollywood. Axl had performed backing vocals on Don Henley's album, End of the Innocence. And Henley played drums and sang backup when Guns N' Roses played "Patience" on the 1989 American Music Awards.

It took two years for it to happen, but the singles for "Welcome to the Jungle," "Paradise City," "Sweet Child O' Mine" and "Patience" eventually made the band ubiquitous. And Axl was constantly in the news for being a terrible human: starting shows late, nearly starting riots at his own shows, saying racist, misogynistic, and homophobic shit, and otherwise being a huge asshole.

At the time none of that mattered to me. What mattered was the way I felt when I pressed play on the CD. It was exhilarating every every single time. It still is. Appetite for Destruction is the best selling debut album of all time because it has no skips. It's an incredible hard rock album front to back, full of songs that are musical, surprising, funny, sophisticated, angry, and—more than anything else—convincing. It was hard to listen to Appetite and then put on Warrant, Poison or Motley Crue. Nirvana killed all those bands, but GNR put them on notice.

"Patience" wasn't on Appetite. It was on a follow-up collection of two EPs called GN'R Lies. The GNR half was old live performances from 1986 ("Move to the City" was my fave). The "Lies" half was a set of four acoustic originals whose popularity may have inspired MTV Unplugged:

"Patience"- the second song I ever learned to play on guitar all the way through.

"Used to Love Her" - A jokey song about killing your girlfriend and burying her in the back yard.

"You're Crazy" - Better, bluesier, and somehow darker than the version on Appetite.

"One in a Million" - The song whose lyrics included racist, anti-immigrant, and homophobic slurs, but also functioned as an Axl Rose origin story.

Even when I was a kid listening, the lyrics to "One in a Million" bugged me because Axl's lyrics on the song weren't just hateful, they were the worst lyrics he had recorded. It was a missed opportunity, because it's probably the best song on this record. It was his best vocal performance, it had the best solo, and Axl whistles over the opening again with an even better melody. It sucks because he ruined the song with half-assed, bigoted lyrics.

None of this is to provide an apologia for GNR (or for me). They were my favorite band until my senior year of high school. They were the reason my first guitar was a Gibson Les Paul like Slash played. And I dove DEEP into both Use Your Illusion records when they came out (I could write three or four more posts about UYI I & II).

But once Izzy Stradlin' left the band, I knew they were never going to make another record as good as Appetite. The best songs off Use Your Illusion are the Izzy songs. The coolest guy in that band was Izzy. And the best post-Appetite record by anyone in the band is Izzy's solo record with the Ju Ju Hounds.

I went to see Guns N' Roses in 1992 with Soundgarden opening. And I'm glad I did. But Izzy wasn't there, and I felt his absence. Basically, it feels like I left GNR when Izzy did.

But if he ever rejoins the band, I might see them again.

Fave lyrics (for someone who loved walking the tough suburban streets of Cypresswood at night):

I've been walking the streets at night Just trying to get it right It's hard to see with so many around You know I don't like being stuck in the crowd And the streets don't change but maybe the names...