#This seems right thougj

[cyrenescreams]

Hello Cyrene how tall are the characters in 101 (I'm working on some art)

Hello Ýr ummmmmmm i have no clue how tall. Foolish is the tallest though. Sam's next but they have 2/3 inches between them id say. Then another gap between sam and Charlie. Fundy is only like an inch shorter than chralie. The largest gap is probably between Fundy and Q who is the shortest

[ghostly-wisp]

MR. LOVERMAN 

Chapter 6

chapter 5 | chapter 7 | series masterlist | page masterlist

︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

warnings — strong language, not proofread

When your voice comes through the line, he stops walking, Pedro is just outside his car. His hand is on the handle, but he can’t bring himself to move, he really didn’t think you would answer. He's glad you did, but it makes the situation real, and if hes honest he was expecting to be sent straight to voicemail. His stomach drops a little, but he takes a deep breath. He can’t make the same mistake he has before, he can’t ruin this one chance he has, if he even still has it. “Y/N?” 

“Is everything okay, Pedro?” you sound worried, which makes him feel slight excitement because at least he can tell you care—you hear the ding of his car door opening from the other line, you're biting lip nervously waiting for his response, it feels like he's taking his sweet ass time – so you repeat, “Pedro.” he’s quick to respond now. “‘m here, sorry,” he looks around the street, the streetlight above his car is illuminating everything, he honest to God feels like Hes in some film with a fucked-up plot that he would’ve turned off by now. “Are you home? I need to see you.” 

You still, Sam would never approve of this. They would tell you to hang up, to tell him that you’re busy, you can’t keep giving into Pedro – he's like some disease you can’t shake, you can’t let him keep affecting you like this – you can’t let him keep you wrapped around his finger, it doesn’t do you anything good. You sigh, “I don’t know if that's a good idea, Pedro, it’s late and–” he doesn’t even let you ramble the rest of whatever excuse you're about to give him.

“Please.” The tone in his voice is familiar, it brings you back to the day in your classroom – the crack in his voice and the desperation, you can only imagine that he's on the brink of tears. “Please, I need to see you.” Maybe it's your own desperation, or maybe you're just that fucking gullible, but you tell him “Okay.” Whatever Sam doesn’t know can’t kill them. You remind him of the address and your apartment number and hung up the phone. You're frozen for a moment, you wonder if you're dreaming, if this some sick delusion. You can't fathom a reason for this to be happening, why today, why now, and why was it so urgent?

When your music starts playing again at full volume, you're brought back to reality. Thougj rigjt now you prefer now to wait in silence, the music would only act as a distraction that you couldn’t have. What could this possibly be about? The thousands of scenarios run in your head—most negative—you’re pacing and picking up a couple things as you do so. Maybe this was a mistake, you should’ve stuck to your guns and told him no, maybe then you wouldn’t have this pit in the stomach. It feels like it takes him ages, but finally you hear that ear piercing buzz alerting you know someone wants you to let them in. You don’t even bother using your intercom, you just let them in. You’re on the third floor, and you’re guessing by the sound of quick footsteps that he didn’t even bother with the elevator. Your palms clam up and your pacing comes to a halt when he knocks on the door, it seems hesitant almost. Which is funny, considering he was just running down the hall, maybe he was second guessing himself or wanted to seem like he wasn’t rushing his way to see you.  

When you make it to the front door, you don’t open it right away, you take a deep breath first, and you’re slow to unlock the door. When you finally open it, he’s got one hand against the door frame, and he's slightly leaning into that for support, you want to throw your arms around him, but you don’t. He takes his arm away and looks at you, panting softly. He takes you all in, like he can’t believe he's actually seeing you, it's like in his dreams. The ones that he remembers anyways.

There's a moment where the two of you are standing there, looking at each other awkwardly. You don’t know if you should speak first or wait for him – you’re the one to break the silence, inviting him into your apartment, and he slowly steps in and looks around – He missed your apartment, the atmosphere is more comfortable than Jennys – there's a faint smell of apples from your candle, the decorations are more welcoming, it feels like a home. He loved it, and he missed the fuzzy feeling it gave him. Pedro turns to face you again, watching you lock the door like you always did. When you turn to face him, you can tell that he was either crying earlier or he's trying not to now. 

“So, what's up?” your voice is soft, oh, how he missed it. He thinks about how he wants to start his sentence; he used a lot of similar phrases the last time you two chatted, and safe to say, he didn’t want to repeat that conversation. He wets his lips with his tongue and his eyes dart around, his hands are suddenly clammy and he's sweating. “I was with Jenny and–” he watches you roll your eyes, and you start to move past him. “No! Not like—just listen to me, please.” bad start already, way to go, Pedro. He thinks to himself.

You shake your head—how could you let yourself think he would be here for anything good for you? Still, he follows you into your living room and you turn on your heel. You want to listen to him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear whatever story he has that includes Jenny, you’ve always made your feelings about her very clear to him, and he chose to hang out with her. Which you know is his choice, but you still didn’t want to hear anything about the art teacher, not after everything that's happened. Pedro stops walking when you turn, and it's a stand still. “She told me that she uh, she heard you and Sam...” you only raise your eyebrows, because you and Sam talk about Pedro a lot as of late. “She told me that – you we’re talking about getting over me.” with this, your heart stops for a moment, and you feel a pit in your stomach again. For no reason, though, because he should know how you felt about him. You basically told him, or were you not clear enough for his thick man brain?

“You know how I felt about you,” felt was a word you chose carefully, making it sound past tense, he catches onto it – but for the moment, he's choosing to ignore it. He needs to believe that he still has a shot if he's going to stand here and say what he's been dying to say for a while now. “You hurt me, Pedro, you ignored me for weeks because you were scared. And then you went into the arms of fucking Jenny. Of all people, her.”

It wasn't the fact that he ignored you anymore. It was him leaving, him going to the one person on the entire building that you felt so strongly about, she had been ontop of him since he started, there was no way he was that stupid think that wouldn't hurt—even if he was, the damage was done now, even if he apologized.

He frowns, he knew what he was doing was stupid at the moment—but hearing it said to him made it so much worse, like it actually smacked him across the face. “I know,” he says quietly, ashamed. Though can't take his eyes off you, he can't look away no matter how embarrassed he felt. “and I’m not going to stand here and make excuses, and pretend like I did no wrong, I fucked up. I know. I ran, because that's what I do. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel, and I don’t expect you to forgive me.” You only scoff in response, folding your arms infront of you tightly, but there's this sense of sorrow in his eyes that you can’t bring yourself to pretend to be angry with – his eyes can pull at your heartstrings in ways nobody else has ever had the power to. “N’ maybe I’m delusional, Y/N, but no matter how hard I try forgetting, no matter how hard I try to ignore it, you’re always there. Everything I look at, I see you. I think of you. It’s always you.” Your arms slowly drop, your guard goes down a lot faster than what you wouldve wanted. There's sincerity in his words that's dragging you in, you don’t even take a step back when he moves closer to you ever so slowly. “I’m a wreck without you,I don’t know how you do it...” When Pedro smiles, you feel this flutter in your heart— a sensation that you hadn’t felt in a while, and you think you missed it a lot more than what you thought. “Feel like I haven’t known you all that long and you’ve taken over all my senses.”

You want to scream at him, you want to tell him that he's lost his chance and this ship has sailed. That letting him come over was a mistake, lash out all your feelings to him — but you can’t, you won’t. Because you’d be lying. Your face is red, and no sounds come out of your mouth no matter how badly you want to say something. You can’t, because his smile alone is rendering you speechless. He doesn’t say much either, he reaches out and his fingertips slowly graze down your arms, his hands slip into yours, and there you stood – holding his hands in your apartment. You think, how much eaiser it would be if you were mad at him still. You'd rip your hands away in an instant, tell him to go fuck himself, but you can't bring yourself to be mad at him, and you're lying if you say you didn't love the sensation of his hands holding yours. People of held your hand before, and hand holding js pretty low on the romance scale, but it felt like the most pivotal thing in the world to you right now.

You never touched him like this before, it felt intimate, romantic, in a way that you hadn’t expected, sure you’ve hugged him and let the hug last for a second too long, you’ve kissed him on the cheek before – but this felt real, there we're no ifs, no possibilities for it to be misconstrued in another context. You could feel the tingling sensations your hands and your heart, and you don’t know what the next move is. He doesn’t either, because he only steps closer and looks at you, he thinks about leaning in – but he doesn’t, he had many different thoughts about how this moment would go – confessing feelings like this – it would be after your second date, maybe you’d be at his place and he makes a nice meal, or out at a restaurant or some other date, something that would stick out more than in your apartment after a fight. Though now that he's here looking at you, watching the way the blush on your face grew, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oh, how he missed you, he missed your face, he missed his lover. 

You may have never been his “lover” officially, but might as well, because he never wanted to spend another moment like this with anyone else. He can’t bring himself to pull away, to say anything that ruin this moment. You notice how sweaty his hands are, which would normally unsettle you, but in the moment, you can’t bring yourself to care about it. Pedro’s stomach tingles, because he accepts, finally, that he can’t prolong this any longer. That running away will only make his situation worse, his feet feel cemented to the ground, but he's okay with it. For once, he doesn't plan on running.

He pulls one hand away from yours, which leaves this cold, lonely sensation, but it's rested on your hip, and it's when he does this that you know what's going to happen, too. Your heart feels like it's going a mile a minute, he's the one to lean in first, but you meet him halfway. 

Your lips brush over each other at first, as if you’re both unsure if this is what you want to do in the moment, but it doesn’t take long for your lips to connect again, he's grinning into the kiss, but you could care less. This was the best feeling you’ve had in a while, the warmth that came over your body, the kiss is tender and delicate. Slightly addictive, if you're both being brutally honest.

His other hand lets go of yours, and he moves it up to place it on your cheek, as if to pull you in closer. Your hands are just under his arms. It lasts only a couple seconds, but you wish it could’ve been a lot longer, his he doesn’t take his hands away, in fact, the one that's placed on your hip slides to your back as if to pull you closer. The sentiment is mutual, because you don’t want to take your hands away from his either, you just slide them down to the sides of his stomach. You could feel the feelings of his lips on yours still, and it tingles. When he looks at you, he's trying to get a sense of how you feel, and you finally smile. He can’t help but thinks about how he missed that smile. “Will you please forgive me?” he asks of you quietly, “I want this to happen more. I want to hold your hand; I want to eat lunch with you and Sam again, if you'd let me.”

You laugh quietly, for once, you start taking each one of Pedro’s features to note, you’ve obviously never been this close to him before. His pores, the details in his nose, honestly you probably wouldn’t have noticed that he said anything if he didn’t raise his eyebrows in anticipation. You even have to think about it for a moment, “I can try to forgive you,” you say quietly, no louder than a whisper. “Sam might never be able to, though.” 

“I think I can live with that.” 

It's not until the following Monday that you get around to telling Sam about your reunion with Pedro. It's not that you felt like you had to wait, it was just that things were so good with Pedro that you wanted to stay in the blissful phase before you told anyone, but you figured you would have to because Pedro would come by for lunch anyway. So, you stop by their room in the morning before any students got there, “Hey, Sam, I gotta tell you something.” 

“Perfect, I was just going to text you to come here— I saw the funniest thing when I was walking in today. What's up?” you shake your head, more intrigued by their story. “You first,”

They turn in their chair, standing up and closing the door. As long as no student looks in, they might have an idea that Sam wasn’t there yet, and also, they didn’t want any other teachers overhearing them. “I saw Jen and Pedro walking in together, right?” They say, going to sit on the edge of their desk across from you, now you’re nervous as to where this is going. What Sam might thing is going on, because whatever they say is going to make your news sound untimely. “She kept trying to grab his hand–and it's so funny, because he would move his hand away, and move physically further from her but she just kept trying. I don’t know what got into him, but all the sudden, but it’s eating Jen alive. I even saw her go up to his room.” 

“You did? When?” you hadn’t even stopped by your own yet, so if she was still there, you wouldn’t know. “Just a little while ago, shes probably still there – I wonder what shes saying, I just want you Pedro why won’t you hold my haaaand!” They laugh at their own mockery, but once Sam stops laughing, they ask you, “Anyway, what was it you wanted to say?” 

Though you can’t answer, you have to know what Jen is saying; you have to know if Shes still there or if Pedro delt with it. You knew that Sam could hear this later, and you can explain it. But you slip off of the desk you were sitting on and grabbed your bag. “I gotta go.” you say matter-of-factly, opening Sam's door; seeing of their students waiting patiently, and they seemed shocked to see you walk out of the room in a hurry. “I can explain it later, teacher Sam.” you say, mindful to call them by their professional term. You never felt this urgency, Jesus Christ, can’t this woman just leave you alone? Why does she have to be so fucking obsessed? You wonder what she might actually be saying–how Pedro must feel. Or if you’re too late, maybe she's already crying, cursing your name, you can't help but feel sympathy for her. You could've easily been in her position. It just so happened that your classroom was closer.

You turn the corner, and over the lockers you can see that his door is open. You can't hear much, which you assume is a good-ish sign, at least she's not yelling. You slow your steps, you wanted a feel of the situation first, so you grab your room keys to start unlocking the door to your classroom—trying to listen closely.

Pedro isn't exactly sure how he got into this situation, two women having feelings for him was flattering, but good God, was it awkward. Especially since he liked one, and the other sat in his room just about sobbing. “I just don't understand.” Jenny tells him, after he's explained why they can't see eachother anymore. He didn't want to say that you had anything to do with it, but that was pretty self explanatory, even if he tried saying it was "for other reasons".

“Jen, It's not you, okay? I just—I just don't have the same feelings towards you, you're an amazing friend, but I just don't see us working.” For some reason, even though this was the gentlest way he could've thought to put it, it ignited something in Jenny—she quickly stood, wiping her tears away. He hoped she would just storm off, alas it couldn't be that easy. “This, this bullshit right here, is why your wife fuckin' left you.” and no matter how much time passes, no matter how much the wounds of his divorce heal. It hurts, it hurts more when it's thrown in his face in a way. “I hope your god damn happy,” she yells across the hall to you once she notices you trying to unlock your door, you don't think she's talking to you at first, especially since you're in the hallway when anyone could see. It's not until you hear Pedro trying to diffuse the situation, and her hand grabs tour shoulder tightly. “Is this what you wanted? for me to cry? You have to have everything?”

You're trying with every fiber of your being to remain professional, not to give into the scene at hand. You don't want to get in trouble, nor do you want your students asking you about this later. You finally get your key to work and push open the door to your classroom. "Jen, I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't plan for this to happen, but I'm sorry it did." You say softly, "It's really not fair of you to throw his divorce in his face.” You step in to your classroom, turning around quickly so that she couldn't follow you in. “You've always hated me, and frankly, I never understood why.” Her words are a lot louder than necessary, and you're trying to make sure there are no students nearby, but it was probably too late for that anyways. “I'm tired of being nice to you, only to be handed back disrespect. This is over a line.”

“I didn't tell him to leave you for me, I wasnt evem speaking with Pedro. He did that on his own accord. You're making a scene, Jen, I'm begging yoh to please go back to your room. You've done enough.” Jen looks around the nearly-empty hallway for support, but she's met with a few confused stares, and Pedro, who still looks rather upset by her earlier comment. She doesn't say anything, instead, she storms off back the stairwell, hopefully, to her classroom.

Your attention turns to Pedro, and while he's happy that you stood up for him, he's very clearly upset. You go to reach for him—to welcome him into your classroom even for just a moment, but he wordlessly turns into his own room; closing the door behind him. Leaving you worried for him, maybe you had done something wrong. You quietly sigh, all you can do for the moment is hope he's okay.

TAGLIST: (also please read my comment in the comment section I think it's important)

@djarinsstuff @doodlebob-mp3

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@peqchsoup @surazim @melanie451 @krisviciousx @elliescumsl0t @theanxietyqueen17 @vasiliki-koshka

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[tumblunni]

Aaa im so full of poke hype and lovv! <3

I feel like maybe doodling my kid self, for some reason?? Like embrace the nostalg and also show some love to that awkward lil kid who didnt really know who they were yet. Its interesting how much i've changed over the years!

Hell i might even draw personas of myself dressed as all the protags from all the different generations? But they'd be mostly the same for like the first 20 years, just me getting real tall and fat lol. I had almost floor length hair for SO LONG it felt really freeing to chop it all off and i never went back! I think i kept it cos it was loke.. Camoflage? The only 'girly' thing i had so i could pretend to myself that i was straight and cis. Plus a literal shield cos i could be 90% hair and just one eye poking out XD So yeah it'd be funny looking at me over time, its just this girly-looking kid getting increasingly more macho outfits and increasingly more girly hair and increasingly more socially anxious, until within the space of 18-25 i suddenly have this giant self discovery freedom explosion and change completely! Its funny how if anything i look less masculine now? Like im way more comfortable with the fact that i'm someone in between genders, and its not a binary of having to be something i'm not just to escape some other thing i'm not. Its also kinda funny how these gender roles felt so restrictive when i was crammed into one of them, yet dressing with both at once seems just as freeing as having neither. Tho still no matter how i dress i always get misgendered one way or another since non-binary acceptance is still far from the norm. But still im so much more me than i've ever been before, and its great to look back so i can realize how far i've come!

So lol maybe i'll just draw old kid me playing "her" first pokemon game, and leave out the next decade and a half of the same thing but taller. And i could just draw current me in a few different attempts at a pokemon outfit? Like when i did my sprite edits i just did me in my usual outfit i wear IRL, now im thinking maybe i shoulda designed a wish fullfillment ideal gym leader costume or something? Tho im too lazy to start the sprite edit project all over again with this new design lol. Oh and maybe also draw my pokemon go outfit? I dont wear it all the time but i had a fun lil look i wore the other day that i ended up laughing at cos i accidentalky wore all blue even tho i picked Team Valor! Now i wanna wear it all the time lol. Oo and maybe cosplay as my fave characters? If i cant afford to do it IRL i can at least draw it!

So yeh in summary somehow i feel really confident in my identity today and i wanna draw pics of me. Mild ego time!!! Or rather just wishing i could fly back in time and motivate my kid self by showing them that they woukd actually have the freedom to be themself some day. I dont even really think of it as "I used to be a girl" but just that i was always feeling this way and didnt know the words for it, or that other people felt the same way and it wasnt an 'abomination against god'. And for some reason playing a gane with selectable genders really helped me let out some of my feelings during that confused childhood of absolute repression. "I just pick a random gender each time cos it doesnt really matter right? Doesnt everyone just pick the one with the outfit they'd rather wear?" I absolutely knew that was a lame excuse and none of these other kids actually felt that way, but at least it kept people from suspecting i had queer reasons for my queer actions. In a time where i didnt even know what queer meant except that it was Somehow Bad. Gah, this is why sex education needs to be inclusive! Even when i was old enough to learn about straight sex i apparantly wasnt old enough to learn about gay and trans people! Let alone asexuality lol... Man it was a whole nother mess to be dealing with an anomolous lack of sexual attraction at the same time as i was repressing something everyone told me was 'inherantly too dirty for teenagers to know about'. For so long i was just told that crossdressing was 'a sick fetish men have for wearing women's underwear' not just.. A woman is a woman and is telling you she's a woman and you wont listen to her. And for some reason they always obsessed with MTF trans folk in these sensationalist hate sermons, i guess because 'a man who gets off on dressing like a woman' just sounds like the more disgusting version when youre a sexist homophobic transphobic piece of shit throwing your bigotry at children. And at the same time also aphobic and telling me i need surgery on my genitals if i dont want sex. Mannnn kids those days.. i really hope kids these days have it better! I hope everyone who dealt with that shit managed to find love and support eventually, even if its still a damn crime they had it denied to them during their most important childhood years. The whole concept of 'an innocent carefree childhood' is so unknown to me, its ironic people claim they want to keep "lgbt politics" away from children in order to preserve that innocent childhood...

Aaaaanyway im rambling lol! In summary pokemon was one of my only coping methods during that childhood and the only small way i could pretend someone accepted me. Even if it was just by whispering no when the professor said 'are you a boy or a girl' and being happy at the little genderless mons like magnemite or the legendaries. I dont think i would have ever realized it was actually POSSIBLE and had words for the complex dysphoria i was feeling, if i hadnt played this dumb lil series of games.

Anyway thats probably also why i never had any attatchment to gen 1 despite being born right as the first wave of pokemania was coming out. The memories i have of those times are complex. Im just excited to revisit kanto as a new and happy person and maybe make new memories! I already barely remembered actual Yellow compared to FRLG, it was kind of a trip to play it on virtual console and remember all the tiny bits of sexist writing that games used to have during that era. It was like 'whoa i never noticed this was wrong as a kid, this finally explains why it made me uncomfortable!' Also the gameplay was glitchy and the plot nonexistant and the translation rudimentary and limited. And the mons weren't very good and i prefer pretty much every other generation and especially Garbodor and Vanillite, dammit!

Ok im going offtopic again

So yeah like i said im happy that Let's Go has managed to make me hype even thougj i didnt enjoy kanto the first time around! And its good how much it represents my journey out of that shitty childhood so now i can revisit it and pretend this is my first time and None Of That Happened, Thanks

So anyway bunni draws past self. And gets emotional. And rambles for hours in a dumb post.

Ok bye

[kierawaffles]

and with that i'm going to bed

i might be kind of busy over the weekend so i may not get another chance to play much until like sunday evening (and maybe then the english patch will be out? not expecting it to be) so hopefully i won't loose the skills i built up the past few days haha

aocf so far is pretty easy though? at least on normal.

the control scheme is almost identical to ulil (with the exception of the button i used to use for spell cards now being the switch button) so it was easy to adapt to and the overall difficulty in the prologue(?) and one story i did play was pretty low, which is fine imo because then it's less stressful

how do you tell if you can use your last word though? i couldn't figure that out and hm and ulil have pretty clear tells (max popularity and at least 4 balls filled in in the top respectively)

gonna do just one story in aocf i think, in practice mode it took me a bit to figure out how to declare and use spell cards haha (it’s special+shot)

even though i don’t ship the two of them i am happy that reimu and kasen got paired together, not only are they very close in my character rankings but i also enjoy their interactions together!

[ask-the-dif-host]

"I.. Well... I might have accidentally angered Crank. I was roaming the void like I do sometimes when I bumped into him. I apologize furiously, but I must had said something that really made him mad..." She looked down at the pink grass, her bare feet shuffling softly against the warm, soft ground. Adian sighed before hugging her, "It's not your fault Shībo... others just aren't nearly as kind as you'll ever be." The others just kinda stood there awkwardly, thougj they all seemed sympathetic.

“The Host nods, listening to the girl speak. He’s not exactly surprised that Crank got so mad at her for such a small thing as running into him, since that figment has been known to be incredibly capricious and easy to anger. Although a newer figment, he has quite a temper when he’s not being shy. The figment likely didn’t even listen to what the girl had to say, just spent his time getting angry.

“Although the Host feels a little awkward simply listening to people he can barely see in his future vision speak, he stays quiet. There’s no need to rush what’s going on, and from what he knows about family, your family is supposed to be there to comfort and support you.

“‘He’s right, you know,’ the Host speaks up, causing the attention to shift over to him. ‘I narrated my thoughts a little, but since I was very quiet, I think I should say it again. Corrupted Crank tends to be very shy around older and/or stronger figments but he has no problem getting mad at minor inconveniences like that. He’s prone to explosive anger, and I’ve noticed he tends to be more than a bit capricious. If anything, it is most definitely not your fault, Shībo. It’s his temper.’“

[jukeball]

tw not to be depressed but