#and i am horrid at typing on this computer

[laneynoir]

hello to everybody who has requested somthing of me! after the fiasco with my old phone i lost every single one of my drafts/compleatedfics that were written in my notes app, as you can guess, i am in mourning. ill get them done but... it wont be the same.

[leadendeath]

i've been holding off on asking this for so long but,, i simply cannot contain it any longer,,,

do the sea creatures from the spongerobert show count as furry. anthro... pomorphic... LIL GUYS??! pls assist....

[impala-dreamer]

Meet Me At The Beach

A Supernatural Story

~ Texting and emails can feel so impersonal. There's nothing quite like exchanging tangible, handwritten letters with someone you love...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader, Sam Winchester

4,025 Words

Warnings: Bittersweet Angst. SFW. 

A/N: This is for @jacklesversebingo "Writing Letters To Each Other" was the prompt. I hope you enjoy...

June 2

Dear Dean, 

This feels so weird. Do people really write letters anymore? Am I going to get strange looks at the post office when I go to buy a stamp? Will they even know what to do with this tiny envelope and folded piece of loose-leaf paper? I almost don’t know how to write anymore. My script looks kinda like chicken scratch, huh? Hopefully it’ll get better. It is weird not typing though. But emails just seem like work. Impersonal, ya know? Besides, it gives us something to look forward to when we hit the mailbox. Nice to open something that’s not a delinquent credit card bill, huh? 

Speaking of which- how the fuck do you do it? I just got another card canceled. My credit is non-existent. Fuck, I need to get a job. Could you imagine me in an office? High heels and panty hose and my hair tucked into a neat, matronly bun? I shudder to think! 

OK, this is weird. I just wanted to write “LOL” but it’s not an email. Or a text. Why are we doing this again? Oh, yeah, see above. 

Anyhoo- - - - I don’t even know what to say! Umm… I’m in New Orleans for a bit. Not working, just hanging out. My friend Emily from high school tracked me down online and we’ve been chatty. She’s in a band. They’re not bad. Not great, but not bad. So yeah, I took a drive down to see a show and I’m just lingering. Drinking too much, sleeping past noon. It’s fun. Nice little vacation. 

Which - ahem - you should be taking. When are you gonna get your ass out of that dusty old bunker and stick your toes in the sand? I already told you I’d meet you in Pensacola with sunscreen and a cooler of beer. You know you want to. Or are you just scared to show off your ugly toes in flip flops? Your boots might actually cry if you ever took them off, so I guess it’s just as well. 

Hey, do you remember that night in Richmond when it started pouring and your boots sank into the mud puddle? God, that was a mess. We were soaked to the bone. Nice way to warm up, though - cuddled in the back of the Impala. I miss that car. Sometimes, I think I can hear it at night when the world is quiet and the wind is still. It’s like the engine roars in the back of my mind and I start thinking about all our adventures, all the time we spent driving into the sunset. 

I miss you. Is that wrong? I probably shouldn’t. Or at least, I shouldn’t tell you that I do. But I do. I miss you so bad sometimes that it hurts. Like someone has punched me right in the chest. Maybe we can end up in the same town soon. Grab some tacos and sit on the hood. Make a mess. I’d like that. 

OK, before I get too emotional and start asking you to run away with me, I think I’ll end this ranting scribble of horrid handwriting. 

Write me back soon.

Love, Y/N

June 21 

Y/N- 

Your handwriting does not look like chicken scratch. I like it. Mine is like some toddler just learning his letters. Whatever. I never learned that fancy shit. I can sign my name and make a grocery list. That’s all I need. 

This is weird, yeah. But it’s kinda nice. Feels more… like you’re here. Does that make sense? Like seeing your handwriting, the dents in the paper- I don’t know. Just feels more real. Like you’re not just some computer talking back at me. Also there’s something strange about answering questions weeks later. I meant to write this sooner, but I got a little distracted. There was a Kung Fu marathon on and I just lost track of time. Too much pizza, not enough Carradine. Ya know? You know. 

Remember that horrible motel in Raleigh when we both caught that nasty stomach bug and stayed up all night watching old tv shows? Saltines and Little House. I’ll never forget it. You were so sick that day. Shit, I was sure I was gonna end up taking you to the hospital. Sure, I was puking too, but you looked like death. I hated that. Hated that I couldn’t help you, make you feel better. I did cook up a mean chicken noodle soup though, didn’t I? Not that it stayed down for long. 

Thank god for that yellow Gatorade. And yes- it’s fucking yellow. Not green. 

Anyway- I miss you too. I try not to, I really do. Not all the time, no offense, but sometimes I’m just fucking insane with shit going on. But at night, especially, I miss having you beside me. I miss rolling over and seeing you there, or hearing you snore. I miss feeling your freezing feet under the blanket. I don’t know, I just- 

What can I say? I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I’m the biggest piece of shit in the universe. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. 

Can’t change the past. Just gotta move on. 

Maybe someday you’ll forgive me. I hope so anyway. 

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t dump that all out in a letter. I almost ripped this all up and started over. I actually let it sit for a day before I came back to it. But, fuck it- we said we were gonna write to each other and be honest, and here I am, being honest. 

Fuck, I’m so tired. That kinda tired when sleeping for ten days wouldn’t even put a dent in it. Yeah, OK, so things are getting a little better. Chuck’s gone for good this time. Jack’s got things back in place, even made a few improvements. Sam’s- well, he’s Sam. He’s fine, doing his thing. The dog is- did I tell you we have a dog now? Yeah, I know. Me and a dog- yeah right. But we do. Miracle. He’s a good boy. I’ll send you a picture soon. 

Never thought I could slow down like this. Feels like for the first time we can just - work. I mean, I’m never gonna give up hunting, not totally, but- feels like I could just ease back a bit. Been looking at some jobs in town- nothing crazy, fixing engines and stuff like that. Don’t know if you remember, but I’m pretty good with my hands. 

Did you blush? 

You did. 

OK. I guess- that’s it for now. I have no fucking idea how to end this so - bye?

~ Dean

P.S.  I’ll meet you at the beach soon. I promise.

Fifteenth of July 

To Whom It May Concern:

Re: Beach Vacation

Dear Mr. Winchester, 

I am very pleased to hear that you are agreeable to meeting me at the beach. It should be delightful fun to run through the surf and hunt for sea glass with you.

Oh shit! Do you remember that new age shop in… where the fuck was that? With the sea glass necklaces in the window that I said were so pretty and the witch inside said they were blessed to give the wearer riches or some shit like that. Where was that? Who knows.

Feels like we’ve been all over the world together. Well, this country at least. Lord knows I could never get you on an airplane. If only you could drive to Paris. Did I ever tell you about my trip to France? God, it was beautiful. Rained the whole time, but it was this beautiful, warm spring rain that made everything smell like dust and petals. Not rose petals, but those little white ones that grow on trees, ya know? It was so beautiful. Fuck it. I’m taking you one day. You need to see more than the dash of your car and the backroads of America. Time to travel!

Speaking of- I’m glad you’re slowing down a bit. I know that won’t be easy for you but if you think about it, you’ve spent the last forty years running from problem to problem like a damned bomb-sniffing dog. 

A DOG?! Dean Winchester, I never thought the day would come. I can’t wait to see a picture. Don’t forget it next time. 

I think you’d be a great mechanic. It was always very hot seeing you covered in sweat and grease especially if you had those damned coveralls on. I mean… what? I don’t think about you like that anymore, you know. It’s over and done with and we’re just friends. We are friends, aren’t we? Maybe something more than friends, I guess. Ex lovers? Ew. I hate that word. Lovers. So gross. Well, then what are we? Just two souls swimming in a fish bowl…

Year after year. Day after day. Do you know that I put nearly a hundred thousand miles on my poor truck this year? Back and forth, up and down the country. I don’t have to tell you how exhausting it is. Fun, but exhausting. Rewarding, but not. I wonder how many people remember me after I leave? Does that family in New Haven think about me whenever they go into the basement and it’s no longer haunted? Is there a photo of me on a fridge in Wilmington where I saved that guy’s fiance from the vamp nest? Probably not. I’m sure people remember you - The Great Dean Winchester. The sexy hunter with the green eyes and the giant black car. You’re hard to forget. Also, you hang out with a giant. Tell Sam I said hi. 

I do remember that puke fest! And it’s green. It’s literally neon green. Fight me. 

We could probably write a book, you and me. ‘Winchester & Y/L/N Do America’. It’s a coffee table book with pictures of random diner signs and gas station bathrooms. Maybe a list of the country’s best french fry places. Shit like that. Let’s do it. I’ll call my literary agent in the morning. Ha!

SPARTA!! That’s where that damned sea glass shop was. It just hit me! Stupid brain. I swear, I’ve been hit in the head way too many times. Broken too many bones. I’m getting too old for this shit. Did you know that my left knee pops whenever I stand up now? Like, how old am I?? I can’t stand it. I need a month at a spa somewhere in the desert. That’d be nice. 

Damnit. I just got a call from Vinnie Alverez. Do you know him? Hunter out of Pittsburg. Anyway- he needs help on a job. Guess I’ll cut this letter short. Hopefully I’ll find a box to drop this in on the way to PA! 

Miss you. 

Sincerely yours, 

Y/N

P.S. - I do forgive you, Dean. Of course I do. Things were just too hard back then. Life didn’t want to cooperate for us. It’s not your fault. Not my fault. It just was. Please don’t carry that guilt in your heart. You deserve better than that. 

August 2

Dear Y/N- 

You’re a real character, you know that? Love the corporate letter. I’m in for the book by the way. Could be awesome. We do need a full chapter on onion rings though. Make a note. 

I heard about your hunt in Pittsburgh. Came through the grapevine that you kicked some serious wolf ass. Nice job, kid. Hope you’re being careful. I know how bullheaded and impulsive you can get when you’re in the zone. Just watch your back, OK? Promise me. Last thing I wanna hear is that you got your heart clawed out or you’re walking around with a demon in your ass. 

Demons. Haven’t seen so many running around lately. Queen Rowena’s been keeping them in check. So fucking weird that she’s in charge now. Not that I’m surprised- she’s a badass bitch. If I had a nickel for every ruler of hell I was friends with, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice. The kids still say that, don’t they? See, I’m not old. I keep up with pop culture and shit. Started watching the tik toks. I still don’t get it, but I like the woodturning stuff. Thinking about taking up whittling. Maybe carve you a keychain so you stop losing them. 

I got a call for a job interview. Chickened out though. I don’t know if I’m ready to start all that, ya know? Start a real life in the real world- just seems- I don’t know, scary. Yeah, I’ve faced every deadly thing on this and other worlds but the idea of getting a 9 to 5 civilian job scares me. I’m some kinda fucked up, huh? 

I think about it a lot though. Getting a job, finding a little house somewhere, settling down. A little fenced in yard so Miracle can run around and dig up dirt. Might put a rocking chair on the porch and watch the clouds, some shit like that. Would you come visit me in my Barbie dream house? I’ll cook you breakfast every morning and you can rub my feet at night. Real cozy couple stuff. 

OK, so maybe I’m thinking about you more and more these days. Maybe I’m regretting leaving. Maybe I’m just an idiot daydreaming about meeting you somewhere in the middle and sweeping you off your feet. One of those running hugs that hurts when you collide but ends in a kiss that makes everything feel better. I’m a real romantic fuck, huh? I was digging through my drawers yesterday and I found a pair of your socks. Those tiny ones that barely covered your ankle. I don’t know why they were stuffed in the back of the dresser, but there they were. Dingy white socks with the pink threads on the toes. I’ll bring them to the beach when we meet up. 

Oh, Sam says hi and he hopes you’re good and he wants you to shoot him a text when you can. You can do what you want, but you better not mail him a letter. That’s just for me. God, my hand is cramping up. I’m not used to this. Oh, and you’re not alone. My knee creaks like a haunted house when I go up stairs now. And my right wrist pops, and my neck makes this weird almost squeaking sound, and my ass- well, I could go on, but just know you’re not alone. Kinda weird to think that we lived long enough to be this old, ain’t it? I never thought I’d live to be thirty and here I am staring down 42. Forty Fucking Two. Can you believe that shit? Goddamnit I got old. Let’s go find a nursing home together. Maybe we can get a double room- or a king sized bed?

Think about it. We could be cranky old people together. Losing our memories and shuffling around with walkers and shit. You’d look cute with white hair. And fuck, my beard’s already going gray. Should I grow out my beard? 

Write back soon. I really like seeing your letters in the box. 

Dean  x

My dearest Dean Winchester, it is with great happiness that I write this letter to you and I do hope that it finds you well and happy and all good things and I can’t keep this formal shit up. Ha!

Anyway- but yeah, things are good. I know it’s been a while since I’ve written, but I was on a little trip around the continent. Headed up to Montreal for a bit. Killed some nasties, salted some bones, generally fucked around. My beloved truck crapped out in Burlington, Vermont, so I had to hang out there for a while and gather my resources to get a new vehicle. I think you’d like her. Green Ford Explorer from ‘94. OK, she’s not as sexy as the Impala, but she gets me where I need to go. Which, apparently, was Maine! I met up with some friends in Greenville. Cute little town full of witchcraft. So much fun. Also had a lobster roll on a pier… I swear to god, they plucked this thing right out of the water and slapped it on a buttered roll. You’d LOVE it. I’m gonna take you there someday. 

Speaking of- We need to make plans for Florida. I picked up a little bikini on my travels and I think I really need to show it off. Maybe you could be my bodyguard and keep the creeps away while I’m sunbathing? To repay you for your services, I’ll gladly let you take it off me at night…

Oh, and I’ve thought about this extensively, and I believe that you should, in fact, grow your beard out. Like, full on, bushy lumberjack beard. I can’t wait to see all that gray. You know I have a thing for older men… and you’ll always be older than me, Dean Winchester and don’t you forget it!

And for your information, I don’t lose my keys anymore! I got one of those… apple taggy things. Now I know where they are at all times. Can’t find my phone to find them sometimes, but that’s another issue. 

Two weeks later, I’m picking up my pen again. Sorry this is taking forever. Things are stupid busy. I wish I could just… put this fucking gun down and go live with you on a farm somewhere. Not a working farm, we wouldn’t keep pigs or anything because gross, but a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Big white house with a giant tree in the yard and a tire swing and a picket fence and a kid chasing the dog around and - 

Shit. Do you ever think about it? I do. A lot. More than I’d like to and it fucking cuts me up inside every time. I know we could never have kept it, and life- I mean- it just wasn’t meant to be. But I do think about it sometimes. Imagine if we’d just walked away from the life and tried to be a family? Impossible, I know. Maybe in another life. 

Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck. Ignore me. I haven’t slept in a while and I just

I want to see you. Can we meet somewhere? Wherever you want. I’ll come to you. 

~ Y/N 

Dear Dean, 

This is my second attempt at writing this. Crumpled up the first one because I’m an idiot. Am I an idiot? Did I piss you off with the last letter? I honestly didn’t mean to. I just- we said we’d be honest, and you’ve been so open in your letters that I thought it was ok to talk about, but I guess not. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have dug that stuff up. 

I’m so tired and stressed and I miss you so much. Since we’ve been writing back and forth it’s almost like I can’t stop thinking about you. I get so fucking excited to check the mail whenever I roll back into town. It’s like… I don’t know, it’s like Christmas every time I see your handwriting in my box. Remember the time you wrote your name on my thigh in Sharpie? That stayed on for like a week. I shoulda gotten it inked on. That’d be something, huh? Branded by a Winchester. 

Fuck, Dean, I really hope you’re not mad at me. I really want to call you, but we said we wouldn’t. Just write me back, please. 

I’ll be in your neck of the woods next week. Got turned onto a haunting up in Abilene. Maybe we can meet on the road somewhere? Please? 

Hey, did you know there’s a Hunter, Kansas? Wonder why they didn’t build the bunker there. I don’t know, made me laugh when I was looking at the map. 

Anyway- Please write me back. Or call. Or text. Or send a damned pigeon with a tiny letter taped to its foot. I don’t care, how, just do it please. Even if you’re mad at me and don’t want to talk anymore, I get it. But please. Just let me know, OK?

I’m sorry. 

Love, Y/N

Dear Y/N,

I didn’t know you and my brother were writing to each other like this, but I found your last few letters to him in his private P.O. Box. I didn’t even know he had one of his own, but I guess we all keep secrets from those we love. I hope you don’t mind that I read your letters. Not all of them, but the last two that came through. Please know that Dean would have responded if he could have, I know he would have. He talked about you a lot recently. Said you two were in contact and that he was hoping to find some time to meet you for a vacation. I don’t know where you guys were planning on going, but I found a new Hawiian shirt in his closet with the tags still on it. 

I know we spoke on the phone after he passed, but I wanted to send this to you. I was cleaning up his stuff and found his notepad. Looks like he’d started a letter before we left for Canton. I think he’d want you to have it. 

I’m closing up the Bunker soon. I don’t really know where I’ll go, but I can’t be here right now. Not without my brother. 

I’ll always be around if you need anything or want to talk. I’ll always answer the phone for you, Y/N. 

Be well,

Sam Winchester

Y/N/N, 

If I could take it back I would. Every fucking word. I think about it now and I know we made the wrong choice. I know we could have made it work if we tried. But we are both total fuck ups who can’t be normal. We just can’t. 

Forgive me

That’s dog slobber up there, not tears. Just fyi. Definitely not tears. I think I might have been a little drunk when I started writing and then well-

Anyway- Maine sounds awesome. We were there once but no time for lobster rolls. Guess I missed out. 

Not much to report since the last letter. Been kinda quiet here. But… I did apply for a job. Well, I filled out the application. Well, I started filling it out. It’s actually underneath this notepad right now. I’ll get to it. I will. I just need a good kick in the ass. Or maybe a pinch… wink wink

I absolutely think we need to get together. Pick some place stupid like the World’s Largest Frying Pan or South of The Border. I’ll meet you. Just say when. 

Guess this letter will take a little longer to finish. We’re leaving for Ohio in a little bit. There’s a buncha vampire dicks making a mess. Gonna take ‘em to batting practice. Show them my machete swing. I’ll give a full report when we’re back home

Dean Dean, 

I made it to the beach. It’s hot, like stupid hot. Had to stand in the water just to keep my toes from burning. I’ve been sitting here for hours trying to think of something to say, but all I can say is I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here with me. I wish things had been different. I wish and wish and wish. 

If I throw this into the ocean will it get to you somehow or will my words just wash away like the sand? 

I’ll see you again someday. I hope so, anyway. Let’s just pretend I’m destined for Heaven. I know you’re up there. You were too good not to be. You sacrificed so much, cared so much, saved so many people. I know you made it. If there’s any mercy in this universe, I’ll be up there someday too. Just don’t have too much fun without me. 

I love you, Dean. Always. 

Y/N

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[caprisunnydays]

Adventures of a not so average Voxtech employee : Chapter 1

You're an average corporate slave in hell to the most popular place of Voxtech. However, will you continue to be a basic worker when you slowly are entangled in your boss's personal situations?

Most of these chapters will be kinda stand alone, though connected through an over arching story, more on my ao3 when I can!

Word count : 1.7k

Life in hell wasn’t THAT bad. Well, it was still hell, but you’d come to appreciate the afterlife you’d made for yourself. Considering the unfortunate circumstance, you were able to find comfort in the twisted familiarity. It felt like being trapped in a tidepool, where the ebb and flow of the water brought fleeting moments of relief from the frigid depths. Yet, in this hellish existence, there was no escape from the relentless cycle. At times you weren’t drowning in the anguish of your existence, but just like the ocean's chill, you felt a constant, dull pain. But things had been worse before you got this “job”.

You had no purpose for quite some time. Running around in search of suitable shelter each night, scavenging for food, and busting your ass to avoid bigger, more powerful demons was no way to live. Even now, you were new to hell. It had only been about a year since you died and fell into this horrid place, and for a few months, you were scrambling for a scrap of stability. Then in a turn of luck, you landed a job as a janitor in a Vox tech store, then worked your way up the totem pole (which wasn’t too hard when the boss of that store fired and killed people left and right if they looked at her funny) to where you sat today. 

A cubicle in Voxtech’s news script writing department for!

MUCH better than when you had no job and no place to sleep! Now it was just a 5-minute walk to the Voxtech building from your apartment every morning, work until you’re done, and hopefully get back home before 3 am! You weren’t so lucky this time, but you had accidentally fallen asleep on your 30-minute lunch break and turned it into an hour and a half, so maybe the overtime was karma. 

You sat hunched in your chair, a fluffy blanket from home wrapped around your shoulders, and the taste of cold coffee was on your tongue as you typed corrections on the last of your assignments. When you discounted the burn of the blue light in your eyes, you entered a meditative state that combined focus and dissociation into the killer combo known as your “work mode”. It got you through the days, nights, and mornings you spent doing overtime with no extra pay. Your eyes wandered to the clock in the corner of your screen.

3:15 am

Eh, not as bad as it could be.

Even once you finish this, you’ll probably end up sleeping in your makeshift office bed, which consists of your blanket and a flat-ass pillow being shoved under your desk so you don’t have to deal with going home just to come back in 3 hours. You stretch, pushing your rollie chair away from the desk and groaning at your stiff joints. You stood up and looked over the rows of dividers to see empty cubicles. This was probably the first time in forever that you had been the only one in the office, even at this late hour. The glowing of your singular computer screen and the hum of the AC bordered something you’d see on a Lofi study video, bringing a sense of comfortable isolation to your dead heart. That was until you heard the clicking of shoes against the office floor and doors being slammed.

“Mother FUCKING useless pieces of shit! The one day they say they can come in for maintenance checks and their sorry asses flake AGAIN?! I swear to Satan I’m sending someone to burn down that company for making ME do this bullshit myself because like hell am I gonna deal with shit in my company not working and costing me money-”

 You froze at the aggressive rambling as it approached your station. You slowly sat back down and turned off your computer, sitting silently. Your fingertips brushed the handle of your bat, which you kept under your desk for cases like this. In case one of those nut jobs with much less sanity than you decided to throw themselves in the building and go on a rampage. You gingerly picked the weapon up as the angry ranting got closer. The footsteps crescendoed until a figure was nearing the opening of your cubicle, and you shot up, bat drawn back ready to swing.

The TV demon screamed, jumping back in a laughably cartoonish way, arms over his face and one leg off the ground. His screen buffered, his scream lagging while a code ‘HOLY SHIT’ flashed across his screen.

“AH SHIT! What the fuck are you doing here?” You stood there in the dark for a beat, before putting the bat under your desk and turning your computer back on.

“Work.” You yawn and sit back down. You accessed the man, your brain slowly catching up to reality despite its drowsy fog. 

TV demon…loud…angry…oh shit this is my boss.

In your entire time working for this man, you seldom saw him in the flesh…or, circuits rather. That made sense, he’s VOX. Owner of Voxtech, one of the most powerful overlords in hell, and from what you could tell, a workaholic. He built this empire that you only played a minuscule part in. It was something to marvel at, if you thought about it deeply enough, but you also knew he had a habit of slaughtering anybody disrupting the machine he kept so well-oiled. Maybe that’s why the manager of your department was such an asshole all the time, but you’re sure that she was born to play the role of a narcissistic, cold-hearted bitch. All that aside, you didn’t want to set off the big man who controlled your life standing right next to you, so you just sat in your chair, awkwardly waiting to be spoken to again.

“And your “work” has you sitting in the dark with a bat like a lunatic?” He groaned and rubbed his face. “I mean seriously, I’m surprised you’re still here when I specifically told everyone to get their asses out of this office before 3am.” You squinted in confusion. You were never usually told to leave by a certain time. Everyone above you 

ALWAYS wanted you and the other corporate slaves working around the clock to keep making money. You quickly opened your email.

Nothing about that in there.

Maybe they had an announcement that you just didn’t hear? But you’d been working your ass off the whole day and didn’t-

They had a meeting while I was asleep on my lunch break and NOBODY TOLD ME ABOUT IT?! These people really are fake as hell.

You knew not getting screamed at and almost killed by your boss for your unprompted nap was strange. She must have just let it slip so you’d have to deal with someone much worse. Vox was looking down at you with a furrowed brow and tapping foot. You considered your options, and the most rational thing you could think of was just to try and slowly extract yourself from the office. You grabbed your phone and turned off your computer, keeping your gaze down as you attempted to creep away.

“I am looking right at you, stop trying to sneak away as if I can’t see you.”

Well, there goes that plan.

Halting your movements, you began mentally preparing to be maimed. After all, it wouldn't be the first time that happened to you in this office. Your manager handed out physical punishments like candy, and while she had never killed you and forced you to respawn, you had been given horrific injuries countless times. You turned back to Vox, studying his form in the low lighting. He didn’t look THAT mad, more like he was contemplating something. His scrunched expression morphed into a charming smile, the one he’s known for. Was he about to use his eye on you?

“I could use your help with this inspection I’ve gotta do. You know this place best after all.” It was not a question, and since you were just preparing for a second death, you’d take this option with no complaints. You gave him a nod and he clasped his hands together, before grabbing one of your shoulders. “Greaaaat,” His smile dropped, “Let's get this shit done with.”

You proceeded to show him around the office, stopping at places that could be hazardous and require maintenance. The lights, electricity, and everything else that made this unit function was in order. You were only checking the places that made this place run smoothly, but that was to be expected. You ended off your maintenance tour by turning on every single computer to make sure they were functioning. You had only gotten through three when suddenly the office exploded with white light. Vox shot you a cocky smirk.

“It’s much faster that way,” He held out his hand, blue claws sparking as tiny bolts of electricity danced between his fingers, “but your manual technique was cute enough.” He stomped and let electricity surge through the floor again to shut off all the computers. Then he scoffed and pulled out his phone, texting someone aggressively. “Thank god that’s over with. I’m out, you should be too.” He pocketed his phone and began striding out the door. “Oh, and thanks for the help or whatever.” 

Just like that, he was gone. A breath of anxiety pushed out of your lungs, one you weren’t even aware of until the pressure of Vox’s presence was lifted. You had expected much worse. After all, the consensus among you and your peers was that he was a massive prick. But at least he didn’t grab you by the horns and throw you around till they cracked like your manager.

“…mission successful.” As you mutter under your breath some passive-aggressive comments you'd like to say to your colleagues, you gathered your belongings to head back to your apartment. Nearly stumbling over your improvised bed, you briefly consider just crashing there for the night. Mentally though, you’re so far gone that you might end up doing yourself even more of a disservice by staying. “Fuck it, I’m going home.” You chug the rest of your watered-down coffee and throw the mug in the office kitchen sink. 

As you stepped out into the vibrant streets of the entertainment district, you savored the moment when you closed the back door to the Vees' headquarters. There’s nothing like the sound of the lock clicking when you turn your work key in the knob and head off for the night.

I'm gonna make multiple chapters and post em on Ao3 whenever I get around to working on it. Will post the link here!

[oriley42]

BUCKLE IN, LOML, THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE.

hi !! i'm bea, aka meekspeeks on AO3, and i have only recently managed to properly sink my teeth into House MD, being exam free and all. and, akin to any other Normal, Sane person, i immedietly went onto ao3 to cure my bone rattling depression by immersing myself in fics. any kind, people, any kind. and then i found yours.

and my GOD.

you, my dear, dear, sweet friend, are the best writer . ever, dare i say? i have downloaded your books onto my phone for easy reading when i'm... actually, when i'm doing anything. just woke up? ah, yes, the sound of birdsong and an oriley42 fic to sweeten the summer morning. about to go to bed? well, why not get comfy with an oriley42 classic. i highlight them. i seriously, seriously consider getting them tattooed to the inside of my eyelids. all of them. i am not kidding.

in fact, if i was a tech savvy bastard, which i am not (sometimes i Glance, i Peek, i even bloody Breathe in the direction of my ipad, and it restarts. same goes for my phone. and my computer), i would have made an entire new collection on my ao3 account, simply yet perfectly dubbed "oriley42: The Saga", and thus announced to the entirety of the internet my undying love for you, of which there is A LOT. you are amazing and sometimes i wonder if you're even real and not some kind of... demigod?

(i love your fics so much that i get a little e-mail every single time you upload. that's my level of devotion.)

i have never ever laughed harder at anything than i do your fics. when i add said fics to my hilson collection, i make sure that i have a section devoted to a portion of the bits i've highlighted that made me Lose My Shit. i love randomly quoting phrases to my baffled, non-house-loving friends, and even they giggle. you are a riot, my good lord, and i owe you my life.

i'm a true oriley42 expert, i've read them all. no one knows oriley42 like i know oriley42, apart from you, oriley42.

it's a fun name to type. oriley42.

anyway! this is long. my sincerest apologies. but, coming from a frazzled kid who's just finished her a levels, you kept me going through all the horrid, hasty revision that i had to conjure up out of Thin Fucking Air, by making me laugh when no one else could. thank you so much, and i look forward to any other fics that are Brewing in that Lovely Head Of Yours !!!

have a great... day, week, month, year, life !! i love you !!! <3

my buddy, my pal, my dear new bff, thank you so very much! it means the world to hear this, and I'm so deeply touched that my stories could be companion to you, especially as you fight your way through what sounds like a very difficult bit of schooling (wishing you all the success there btw!!)

to give someone Real Feelings, and most of all a Real Laugh, is my greatest aim in sharing my writing--thank you for making me feel like the frankly terrifying vulnerability of posting these stories up where any old Tom, Dickhead, or Harasser can make jackass comments is worth it, because of the chance that my words will cross paths with a kind reader like you <3

your own writing voice just here in this ask is charming and clever, and makes me once again grateful for the incredible talent and kindness the internet allows us all to connect to and enjoy (cheesy, I know, but I really do get teary thinking of all the wonderful people who draw and write and comment and reblog and contribute to these magnificently silly fictional worlds we weave together!)

I hereby grant you a Master's Degree in ORiley42 studies from the University of Internet Friends--much like my own advanced degree, it will not get you a job anywhere, but hey, it's about the joy of learning ;)

Thank you for stopping by, I hope to see you on the digital streets of House MD fan-land again!

xoxo

PS - I have soooo many hilson WIPs brewing, too many to keep straight, but I'm hoping to pick one, focus, and get it posted in the next week or two...stay tuned! 💖

[clarity2electricboogaloo]

This might get long but it’s on the brain right now. Not much organization just ranting.

Not proof read immediately, might make edits later.

The Wilbur situation. It’d fucking sickening to think about but when I see posts ranting I kinda have to and now it won’t leave.

Wilbur soot, since June or July of 2022, was such an inspiration to me. His acting, his music, what he was able to create through just a computer screen and a game where everything is shaped like a block. It was amazing.

I loved watching him and his interactions with people like Tommy, Phil, Techno (RIP 👑) and anyone else on the dsmp server or the osmp or anything else he had joined since.

I had loved his characters and the way things developed. His music could be something I blast in my headphones, something I could cry to, or something to just vibe to. Hell, his fucking band was my top artist last year for Spotify wrapped.

I’d cosplayed tallulah and taken pictures with Wilburs at a convention. More people he had impacted and sparked creativity in.

He was a part or daily life, honestly.

And that all came crashing down yesterday.

I got the news at school from a friend that enjoyed Wilbur’s content before everything. During lunch she said, “He basically admitted to the allegations.”

I needed to see it to fully comprehend it, but there it was later when I checked discord. A half-assed apology for the abuse allegations flooding in after Shelby’s stream. I was disgusted.

I watched Shelby’s vod of the stream next. Everything I heard clicked with what I read on the “apology.” It only deepened what I was feeling and what my friends were feeling.

10 fucking months Shelby took to recover from this relationship. And all she gets is “whoops I was an asshole but therapy!!”

Physical, emotional, and financial abuse. And we only have what she said on stream, apparently not even half of it.

She’s right to not accept his apology.

She deserves so much better and I am so happy fans are providing her support and showing just how proud they are that she was able to come out with this story.

I’ve seen many realizing that they are in or have been in relationships like this through Shelby. And though this should never be something that happens, being able to spread awareness, prevent these types of things from happening to other people, and shutting down an abuser is just. I’m glad at least a few good things came out of that horrid relationship.

My heart goes out to Shelby and any other victims.

This is not all I wanted to say but with the progression of this rant there’s nowhere to really put them.

That is all.

Support victims, fuck Wilbur Soot, send all love and support to Shubble.

Thank you for reading my rant.

[roughkatanaplay]

what's wrong with selfcest? its not at all the same as incest really

GET THE FUCK OFF MY PAGE YOU LITTLE SHIT. WE AREN'T SELFCEST DEBATING IN THIS HOUSE YOUNG MAN, DO YOU THINK THIS IS A DEMOCRACY? NO. NO. YOU ARE SEVERELY MISTAKEN. AND YOU ARE COMPLETELY, ILL INFORMED. NOW GO THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU DID, AND GO SIT IN THE GOD DAMN SHAME CORNER, YOU WASTE OF COMPLETE TIME. YOU UTTER FUCKING DISSAPOINTMENT. LEAVE. BEGONE. DON'T EVER SHOW UP HERE, AGAIN. YOU'RE BANNED. YOU'RE BEING SENT TO THE GULAG IF I HAVE TO DO THAT. GET YOUR GRUBBY LITTLE CARTILAGE NUBS OFF THE FUCKING KEYBOARD, AND RE-THINK SOME MAJOR DECISIONS IN YOUR LIFE. BECAUSE SOMEWHERE DOWN THE LINE, IT WENT HORRIBLY WRONG. I WOULD PITY YOU, IF I EVER BEGAN TO GIVE A SINGLE MORCEL OF A SHIT. YOU USELESS, PATHETIC, SAD, SACK, OF, LANDFILL WORTHY, LOATHESOME, WASTE. YOU FUCKING PLEBIAN, YOU GOD DAMN APE, YOU IDIOT, YOU ABSOLUTE DENSE MOTHERFUCKER. LEAVE. LEAVE AND NEVER SHOW YOUR FACE IN THIS HERE TOWN, AGAIN. MY OPINIONS ON NOT LIKING (MORE OF, DESPISING, AND FEELING DISGUSTED BY, FOR LACK OF BETTER WORDS) SELF CEST WAS NOT, AND STILL ISN'T, A GOD DAMN INVITATION: TO STROLL INTO MY ASKS, MY HOME, MY PRECIOUS SWEET DEAR INBOX, TO DEB ATE SHITTY PROBLEMATIC, HORRID, DUMB, AND ABSOLUTELY TIME CONSUMING, FANDOM SHIPPING POLITICS. OVER HOMESTUCK, NONE THE LESS. OVER FUCKING DIRKHAL. I HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN STATE THE OBVIOUS TO SHIT STAINS LIKE YOU. YOU HAVE MADE A SEVERE AND CONTINUOUS LAPSE IN JUDGEMENT THINKING THAT I WOULD EVER TAKE YOUR ASS SERIOUSLY, AND TALK WITH YOU, ON A GENUINE LEVEL OF MUTUAL RESPECT, BECAUSE YOU DESERVE, NONE OF IT, EXCEPT FOR THE RESPECT ENOUGH TO HAVE YOUR ASS TOLD THE STRAIGHT FACTS.

(ALSO MY CAPSLOCK HAS BEEN STUCK FOR SOME REASON SO ALL OF THIS IS IN CAPS SINCE I AM TYPING THIS ON MY COMPUTER. I'LL FIX IT EVENTUALLY)

[mrsvercetti]

Hiya! Can I have a matchup with the turtles?

I’m 5’4 (and a half!) and I’m 19. I work as a writer and work with firearms and blacksmithing in my free time!

Currently studying religion in university. I graduated from high school at 16 and LOOOVE learning about the earth, who formed us, how the heck we got here, the makeup of plants and space!

I’m super outgoing and love everyone! Although I’m an ambivert- I love socializing but I also love spending 5-6 hours writing in the dark about God and space theories. I’d rather work alone than in a team because I feel like I’m the only one who can specifically articulate what I mean. Also I like listening to music and spending time by myself in my head with no one to bother me. I have many ideas but sound like an idiot when I talk about them so I just make myself look stupid, everyone underestimates me!

I am super creative and love science and technology but it all goes right over my head. I can’t remember the biological makeup of the plants I love to study, I wanted to study neuroscience but my math skills are that if a 6th grader. I have horrid math anxiety. I can tell you how to hack into a telemarketers computer but cannot do it myself. I have so many ideas for cool tools… but I feel kinda useless.

I’m creative and artistic but I can’t draw. I can’t get out any of my ideas out in paper so I’m just stuck,

writing about them.

thank youuu!

I match you with...

Donatello

This man....This sweet little angel

He would NOT STOP thinking about you.

Like to him, EVERYTHING about you cannot be described by words. That's how perfect you are to him.

You and him both love learning and you guys bond over that.

He wanted somebody who would understand his intelligence. How special he is.

When you came to his life, it was like a God’s blessing.

He would always talk about you to his brothers. He can slightly annoy them but his brothers are happy that Donnie is happy y’know?

Personality wise, you guys are opposites.

He’s shy and you’re sociable and outgoing. You guys fit like a puzzle.

He would have you as his lab partner as soon as you guys get together as a couple.

Would teach you whatever you want to know. If he doesn’t know, he’ll spend hours doing research. Because he loves you and wants you to know everything.

He would let you work alone if that’s how you want to work. But the only condition is that you need to stay close to him. What if you get injured? He needs to protect you.

He doesn’t find you stupid or underestimate you in any way. He loves listening to your ideas and would love to cooperate with you to make those ideas a real thing.

This man will help you with biology if you have hard time remembering it. He’d also help you with math. This man will literally help you with anything.

If you are with him, he will never make you feel useless. He’s a gentle ninja who loves to give people what they want.

Creativity is what makes someone infinitely attractive in Donatello’s opinion. So, your ideas are never ignored or criticized in any way.

He’s not much of an artist. But would totally love to practice it with you.

If you wrote something like a short fanfiction, he’ll read it even if it is not finished. He wont judge you and will help you write the rest.

Also LOVES reading your theories. And will encourage you to write more.

Definitely will indulge himself into studying Religion with you.

If you are anywhere, Like in his lab, on the streets, on the living room watching T.V with his brothers, he will constantly flirt with you.

He will also bring you gifts that he made. He spent days to make it perfect so be very thankful, okay?

Will also be a bit of a tease. He’ll tease you about the height different you both have.

If you get upset about it, then expect the worlds greatest apology. Flowers, gifts, cuddles etc.

He’s also the type to sew you a dress or any type of clothing that you like.

Your name on his phone is this “😘🥰💕❤️Babygurl😍😊😚💗”

He’ll call you pet names all the time! “Honey”, “My Beautiful Queen”, “Baby girl”, “My cute kunoichi” (Because he will teach you ninjutsu), “Bunny”

Very clingy and wants to be with you all the time.

He's a sensitive baby so please don't be harsh on him if you get upset or angry.

He also gets insanely jealous if anyone flirts with you. He'll also get sad if the person who flirted with you seemed to be better than him. You need to reassure him that he's the only one for you.

Also, you get along with his brothers so that's a plus point!

[writing-hat]

Hi! I really love your fics and was wondering if you had any tips/advice on your writing process? :)

Hello!!! I'm really glad you enjoy my fics!! For any tips and advices uhhhhh I'll do my best? here! (under the read more, because it turned out pretty long.)

Write whenever you want! Never force yourself into it (unless you got some inspiration that's not ready to go out yet so you just type things that would lead to what you're thinking about? Idk if this makes sense)

But if you feel tired, or you don't want to write anything? Full. Stop. Take a break, have some water, and just do something else. I feel like this one's the most important thing I can give. Don't make writing become something like homework you don't wanna do.

Always have something to note your ideas on you! Wether it's a small notebook or your phone

This is a life saver. I've got too many things on my phone I need to get back on my fics, and it's important because the moment you'll sit down to write you'll realize that feeling you got when you had the idea is gone, and sometimes the idea's the one to fly away. So having it written down somewhere is very important!

Now this can actually turn back against you if, like me, most your ideas come right before you fall asleep, so you have to grab your phone and write everything down to make sure you have it somewhere but yeah. It's still an advice I guess?

and save those notes. and your work too. I hate GDrive and GDoc but it's really useful when you wanna store your stuff somewhere, espiecially if you got an unreliable computer like mine

what else is there to say uhhh

READ WHAT YOU WRITE OH GOD THE MISTAKES YOU CAN FIND IN THERE ARE ABSOLUTELY HORRID

I unfortunately never read behind what I write (I have Oli to take care of that now ehe) but when I look at old fics I'm just. ew. It's painfully obvious I wrote that at 4 AM or while my brain was buzzing in another language because what the actual fuck

If you're on a multiple chapters fic, do not do like me and actually try to write your chapters on different files every time cuz then you're just going to have. a lagging file. taking forever to save when you're adding one letter.

like this. your computer is just going to hate you and spit on your face. (this is bbnb starting chapter 13 only cuz I had to delete all the previous ones after my computer almost died on me help me)

Never forget! A lot of your stories won't be published! And that's okay! A lot of them are just going to be you training and never see the light of day but it's part of the process!!!

But don't throw them away! Whether it's to fish out old ideas or to compare what you used to do, it's always useful to have

Don't be afraid to remove things that don't fit your way of writing anymore. Like, if you had those phrases written a while ago, and the ambiance isn't right, just delete it.

Deleting stuff is not as bad as your brain wants you to think (especially when it's something you thought was so cool), or if you think it's still needed in the fic try finding out new phrasing for what you're trying to say or another moment that could need this?

Am I making sense? I have no idea. But yeah those are the tips I have for now and I cannot think of anything else (this. already took me a while to answer because I had no fucking idea of what could be helpful (idk if those are even helpful))

thank you for the ask! and see you around anon!

[isnt-it-pretty]

genuinely wildly confused about the cursive thing, like that IS normal handwriting? what other way to handwrite is there? just writing letters the way they are typed?? how would that be faster cursive is literally evolved to be convenient to be written... also are (I assume US) schools seriously not teaching it? are kids being taught to write like a computer?? because god am I once more relieved to not live there and I'm so sorry they've been failing you like that

Handwriting is used interchangably with printing and cursive, which makes it a little confusing.

This is what is commonly called printing:

And this, of course, is cursive:

Printing is easier for children than cursive because it's the letters used in printed documents since the printing press was invented, so that's what we teach first-- it's important to know for reading.

You're right that it's much slower than cursive, but with the advent of computers in homes and schools in the 2000s, it isn't worth the time teaching it anymore since everything will be typed anyway.

I was a bit of a weird case. Since I was born in 1998, I was on the cusp of all these things. I was one of the last years to have a typing class as something we learned in elementry school, and my class did learn some cursive. The issue was that I have a couple learning disabilities that made me really struggle as a child (I didn't really start reading until I was ten!), so the teacher felt that the time they spent learning cursive was better used to try and support more important skills, like math or reading. Personally, I disagree since that extra help did nothing for me-- I taught myself to read via audiobook and I'm still horrid at math-- but that's beside the point. (They did the same thing for French classes, another skill I wish I had).

I'd be surprised if kids learned any cursive at all in school now, which is really unfortunate.

[that-jack-kline-bestie]

I do not want to be a doctor. To be a doctor is to be near things grotesque and gory and I do not want to revel in this. I do not want a social media. I do not want to type here, I only do as a diary, as a way to write out my thoughts. I do not want to understand the driving forces that compel us to post and meme and create such shallow things. I do not want to lie back and let my mind turn down low as a television show plays over everything. I do not want to understand this want, I do not want to want this. Some part of me is trying to want this and I do not want to anymore. I do not want to be a doctor, I do not want to take joy from this work, from the blood and sweat and horror. I do not want to be this thing that I have become, this thing that is not me. But have I ever really been what I am now, in this moment? I want to be this again, because this is truly me. But there is truth in this disgusting thing of flesh and sweat and tears. But I cry too. So, is it really so different from me? And is there not truth in that horrid, complacent existence, despite its insincerity? Because it calls out within him, he wants to go back to that place of animal warmth and disquieting comfort. He will stagnate because he does not dream. He is telling me

But I am here. Where does this mind in me come from? We are one and we are not the same. I cannot stay this way much longer, either I must read and become full truth again, while denying this hurtful truth yet, or I must surrender and become heat and sense and stagnation and dream only of this material plane here in front of us. Nothing more. Our life here in this great world that fills our senses is so bright and spreads as far as the eye can see. But when I am this way, I disregard all that is known and I look further. Owen wants to explore with his body, climb into a shuttle to explore the universe if he must. I explore in my mind, with all that I can learn and surmise and compute. There is something else out there. We know so little, I must learn.

[maroonghoul]

Horror Movies I just watched: July 2023

Independence Day I know, this doesn't count on paper. But a 90s big budget pastiche of War of the Worlds or Earth vs the Flying Saucers is still a pastiche of the type of movie that fit right in with a classic monster movie marathon. Besides, for anyone who says this isn't like a horror movie at all, I have two words for you; "Release me..."

Anyways, yeah there's not even anything I can say about this that hasn't already been said. Right around when this movie came out and was then syndicated on TV every 4th of July, My 7 year old mind thought it was the most intense movie ever. Nowadays, it feels optimistic to a fault, at least when it comes to humanity's capability and willingness to be our best selves and actually work together. It's become more hard to believe then any of the actual plot holes. (though good luck creating a virus that can infect computers more advanced then ours today even) Now it kinda holds up today for different reasons. Will Smith becoming a megastar from this movie remains entirely justified. Classic Goldblum performance. Melodrama that actually works for the stakes we're playing with. It's become comfort food. With a side of mass genocide and some cultural stereotypes. (And yet I've still seen worse in films like this).

I haven't seen the sequel and from what I've heard, I'm not missing much.

Nanny(2022) This movie, at different points, felt like a cross between His House, Jacob's Ladder, and even The Orphanage. If I can't speak for anything else in this movie, feeling it drew inspirations from multiple different films make it solid in my book.

I will add, while it could've gone the Get Out route as we could've expected (and it so easily could've) of making the white employers the source of the supernatural horror, it was refreshing that it went against that. Sure, the terrible reveal at the end is still pretty much their fault by delaying paying Aisha so many times, it is something caused by mundane means, at least as far as we know. White people are terrifying enough in a realistic setting, with the horrid status imbalance with the characters (and in general). Giving them a ghost or demon or something to foist upon people when it's not needed can be a bit too complimentary.

The Black Phone I originally wasn't going to watch this because Ethan Hawke's serial killer villain came off too much "gay coded" to me, especially uncomfortable when you take into account all his victims are young boys. I did read an article almost a year ago from someone who identified as lgbtqia+ (I don't remember as what though, seriously I can't find it again so I can't credit it. I am so sorry!), who had similar reservations but then saw it eventually only to realize this choice was based much more on the character being a stage magician and is not sexually motivated in his killings at all. But you could make the argument that it was that easy to mistake it for gay slander at all is a strike against the filmmakers. Please don't be this obtuse next time when it comes to marketing your movie.

Even that put aside, I'm sad to say I didn't get much from this. Want to see The Silence of the Lambs where instead of Clarice and Hannibal, it's a foul mouth little girl talking to Jesus about how she sees the dead zone? Okay, that isn't fair because Gwen is honestly the most entertaining character. Plus it's less glorifying the police department. But I couldn't bring myself to care about Finn because I felt his circumstances throughout felt, oddly enough, too clean. Not to mention, how his scenes imprisoned by the Grabber compared to Katherine in Lambs. Even when you don't know how ready Buffalo Bill is to kill her, you feel urgency just from how miserable she looked and acted in those scenes. Not to mention, a well is way more claustrophobic and scary then a basement that's frankly bigger then my own bedroom.

I've heard this described as, despite the R rating, to be more of a kids gateway horror film when it comes to this subject matter. And yeah, strangely enough that actually would make a lot of sense. I'm just used to the more graphic stuff it seems.

Haunted Mansion Good ole' goofy haunted house movie for the whole family. Sounds like a joke, but it's true and I mean it as a compliment. I know some people would want this to be more intense, considering that the ride is arguably the darkest product ever created by the Disney company. But remember, guys? It's Disney! I'm surprised Constance was allowed in at all. Though I did miss the Ghost Host's hanging body. Bonus points though, for the theme of grief making it hard to keep on living so while you need to grow from it, it's natural if you don't want to move on from your pain yet. Sometimes living, or haunting, in a haunted mansion for a while could be where you need yourself to be.

There are really only two problems. First, the Morbius-shaped elephant in the room. Though given how much CGI he's under the whole time (aside from a few photographs, we never see his actual face), he honestly could've been played by anyone. Hell, get an old character actor known for horror in his place instead. Sure, it's less "star power" (if you could call it that), but you probably could spare some expense in making him spooky and wouldn't have scared off some people rightfully turned off from seeing the a hole anyway.

Speaking of more or less people seeing this, that's the other problem. Others on here have pointed it out and I will too. Why was this being in July?! I don't even need to tell this is going to flop, just from looking at Barbie's numbers, plus the Ninja Turtles. If any movie released this year was made for October, it's this one, not the Exorcist sequel. Even if they didn't have faith in it, they're more likely to get the most amount of money back for it in a time people are willing to watch something spooky in theaters, especially if they have kids who can't stomach Saw X or the Exorcist: Believer.

But I think some of us know why they did it. A lot of these studios, including Disney, are willing to jump the gun to release a movie to streaming once it's clear it's not doing well in theaters. The excuse they'll probably use is that they'll release it to Disney+ just in time so you can play it in the background when the kids come back from trick-or-treating. And granted, it is a film just fine for playing for that purpose.

But no! It's likely the actual reason is to screw the filmmakers, particularly the writers and actors, out of money they would get from this because they're striking right now. So yeah, I want to end this month's post by saying I support both strikes; I think the guild's are entirely in their rights with their demands and I hope they get everything. No one, no matter what their chosen profession or industry, deserves to make less of what is needed to make a living, just so some billionaire who's only contribution to the storytelling process is to move money, can have a yacht. Don't tell me you can't get the metrics on how many people watch the content in your streaming service. Or that it's ethical to use AI to replace a human performance you could've gotten anyway if you actually accommodate for other human beings.

[savage-rhi]

baby, can you make more leon x ashley imagine? i really love them but there is not enough stories about them, it makes me kind of sad tho. 🥺

Sure thing honey :D

"Y'know I didn't take you the type that enjoyed coffee," Leon said with a laugh, smiling as Ashley herself did the same thing.

"I normally don't, but I heard through the grapevine you liked it so I thought meeting here at the cafe would be to your benefit," Ashley said playfully while she used a spoon to stir her coffee. She kept it simple. Black with a few sugar cubes. If she was honest, Ashley still didn't know how she liked taking caffeine. The concept was foreign to her, like many other life milestones.

"Something wrong?" Leon asked.

Ashley shook her head, sighing as he brought the cup to her mouth and took a sip. She carefully placed it down on her plate. A morose look crossing her features as Leon's eyes darted over her, trying to pick up on what was running through her mind.

"I guess I realized how socially inept I am," Ashley shrugged. "I know in Spain, I was more than annoying. Ungrateful, even when you saved me. Being back home, I realized I grew up privileged. I truly didn't have a clue how bad others had it, or--well, doing basic things like this. Hanging out with a friend, and not political figures or the daughters of politicians just so my dad could have a way in for his career."

Leon listened intently, his gaze not leaving Ashley. It was enough to make her giggle as her face blushed.

"I'm sorry. My mouth is running away with me again."

Leon chuckled. "No don't be, I'm processing. I'm kinda like an old computer in that regard. Dial-up and all."

Ashley laughed. She hadn't seen Leon in three years. Not since she was rescued from Salazar and his cult. A lot had changed, but Leon's humor was intact. Despite the horrid things Leon had been through, what he continues to fight, Leon never lost his humanity. Things couldn't be said for Ashley's father, among other folks in the political sphere.

"I wouldn't beat yourself up too bad," Leon said. His voice snapping Ashley out of her thoughts. "Everyone does stupid things when they're young. Hell, myself included. You know, because of me being stupid that was how I ended up getting involved with the Raccoon City incident."

Ashley's eyes widened. "Get out of here!"

"Really," Leon laughed, murmuring a sincere thank you to the barista as his coffee was brought over to the table. He took a gulp right off the bat while letting Ashley's mind marinate over the information. He placed his cup down soon after.

"My girlfriend at the time broke up with me," Leon explained. "Of course with that being my first serious relationship, it screwed me up. I was young, didn't have the best coping skills so I drank. I ended up drunk. When I came to I realized I was late and rushed to get to the city, thinking my bosses were going to have my ass on the first day. The rest is history."

Leon chuckled. It had been so long now that he could laugh at the experience. He remembered there was a time that kept him up most nights. How his actions haunted him.

"Do you ever think about what could have happened if you didn't drink that night?" Ashley asked curiously while Leon nodded.

"I struggled with that, but to be honest I probably wouldn't be alive if I arrived on time. The way things added up after the fact, I know I wouldn't have survived. Anyway, I guess I'm telling you this because things happen for a reason. Our behavior or otherwise can dictate where we end up. Sometimes things are meant to happen in a certain way. There's no sense beating yourself up."

Ashley quietly contemplated Leon's words as she looked down at her coffee. She could hear Leon finish his cup and was already ordering a second one.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," Ashley said while she smiled at Leon. He returned one back and nodded.

"Anytime," Leon cleared his throat. "We should do this more often."

Ashley nearly choked when she took a sip from her cup. Surprised was an understatement.

"You mean--you really would like to meet up again like this?"

Leon shrugged. "Why not? I'm enjoying myself. Aren't you?"

Ashley nodded. It was beginning to hurt to smile, but it was worth it. Maybe there was a chance she could do right by someone besides herself in the end. She had to hope.

[author-a-holmes]

Happy Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @avrablake <3

Rules: When you receive this tag, list 5 things that make you happy (and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications!)

Cat purrs. I got my first cat when I was 9, and there's been nothing that can cheer me up faster than a cat purring, ever since.

A bottle of wine shared with @faelanvance late at night. Sometimes combined with Disney Sing-alongs at 2-4am just because we can!

Speaking of sing-alongs; Music! Music makes me happy. I can't even pick a type or a genre, just sound. It soothes me, and makes me smile.

Romance! Specifically the fictional kind, seeing as there's nothing going on in my real life in that department. But films, tv shows, movies, or computer games that give me sappy, wholesome, tragic, twisted, romances, can all have a slot in the "That makes me smile" section of my mental storage shelves.

The cliche answer; Writing. I don't know what I'd be, who I'd be, how I'd face the world, without the ability to write. It's a really integral part of who I am... and, it makes me happy!

Tagging;

@rainbowravioli @emelkae @asomeoneperson @faelanvance @world-of-fire-and-flight @autisticthassarian @moonlitinks @dontjudgemeimawriter @sparks-moods-worlds @those-horrid-horrid-things

[bardic-tales]

Hello nl, hope you're well. I'd like to know, 16, 31, 34 and 36, please?

Hello, Verba. I'm doing well. Just taking a short break from writing to spend time on here. Then, it's back to writing. How are you doing?

16. Where do you take your motivation from?

I am motivated by a lot of things, but the most is that I have a need to write. I have been writing since I was a very young child when I completed my first full length fantasy novel. It was about a knight saving a princess, very cliché.

Ever since then, I have a passion for written word. If I'm not writing, I feel like I should be. There are even times when I think of its of dialogue in the shower. I need to have a notepad by my bedside as I tend to think of character interactions when I try to sleep.

I decided to become a professional author around 2007 - 2009 when I wrote a Witcher fanfic. An important voice actor for the game would read my work as they worked on the Witcher 2 and encourage me to pursue writing full-time. I still read our correspondence when I'm having a bout of imposter syndrome.

31. Hardest character to write.

This is an interesting question. It depends on the WIP. I try to get inside my characters' heads when I write. It would be a tossup between Niccolo Napoli from Cold as Ice and Ellarian Jhaer from Flight of the Dragon.

When I was creating Niccolo's personality, I would watch a lot of serial killer documentaries. Ted Bundy had some characters that I wanted Niccolo to have, but ultimately, I finally decided on giving him Narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy. He's a very hard character to write.

cw: child abuse. fire. murder

Ellarian Jhaer is just as hard, but her backstory makes her that way. Her father sold her into slavery when she was little. This person would abuse her, and when she was 9, she would murder him. Ellarian would return to her father's village and injure her father in such a way that paralyzed him before burning the village to the ground.

A little time later, she would be captured by an Enethian Cult who were devoted to the Old Gods. She would be tortured and brainwashed. Through her brutality, she would raise through the ranks and become a High Seer. The complex where the cult worship was built upon a thin veil connection the Arathean Plane to the Death Plane. Jhaer would be able to hear the whisperings of the Old Gods and remake the cult into how they saw fit. Ellarian wants to see the world descend into Chaos because such a cruel world shouldn't exist.

34. Handwritten notes or typed notes?

It really depends on where I am. If It's the middle of the day, I'm usually found at the computer working on whatever WIP I need to that day.

However, I do keep a notepad by my bedside. This is where I will write any ideas I may have while I'm trying to sleep or any dreams that may inspire a story.

For the record, I have really horrid penmanship.

36. A spoiler for the story Flight of the Dragon.

SPOILER

Not only does Ellarian Jhaer want to capture Alystin for her ability to open portals to any plane at a leyline, but she also creates creatures through blood magick to try to accomplish this.

Ellarian Jhaer's blood golems actually has a dragon spirit within them. She controls the spirt through a "mother-of-pearl" ring on her finger. This stone set within the ring is from that dragon's pituitary gland which has turned to stone upon death.

Although Amés has "encouraged" Brennan to protect Alystin and keep her from falling into the cult's hands, he also given him the task of searching for these rings and destroying them. One such ring was created utilizing his son's soul.

[xxm1m1kyuxx]

korekiiyo shiingujii ana1ysiis

spoii1ers for ndrv3!

iit’s quiite hard to wriite 1iike thiis wiith autocorrect on, so from the 1iine break be1ow ii wii11 not be usiing my typiing quiirk Σ(･口･)

word count (exc1udiing author’s notes): 1,611 words

tota1: 1,717 words

for siimp1iiciity's sake, ii've done thiis on computer so that there's not a wa11 of text

~*~

"You wonder, "Who is this?" Yes... I shall make that clear first. My name is Korekiyo Shinguji... I am called the Ultimate Anthropologist."

~*~

Hello everyone, my name is Milo, and today I’ll be doing my best to cover one of my favorite characters in the Danganronpa universe, Korekiyo Shinguji. He is originally from the 3rd mainline game, New Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony. Since I don’t physically own the game, I’m basing most of this essay entirely on the Danganronpa Wiki page for Shinguji. Please read that if you desire a more lengthy look at his actions from an unbiased perspective since this one leans more towards empathy than hatred. Whoops!

We first properly meet him after talking to everyone else inside of Hope’s Peak. He’s in the main hall and standing away from the doors leading out to the courtyard. When he introduces himself, Shinguji goes on to talk about anthropology and the beauty of humanity. This proceeds to creep Akamatsu out.

Alongside that, in Chapter 3, we are unfortunately forced to see his relationship with his sister. It’s weird and only gets weirder if you spend two of your Free Time events talking to him when you first play as Akamatsu. He’s evaluated that all girls present at the academy would be great “friends” for his sister, barring Iruma and Harukawa. This is because Shinguji believes that Harukawa doesn’t believe in the power of love, and Iruma is just… well, she’s Iruma. Hardly the girl you would want to send home to your parents.

This weird incest plotline is unfortunately present in most Danganronpa games, such as Leon and his cousin (though one-sided on his cousin’s behalf; he didn’t like her), Tsumugi in the Love Hotel (if you consider that canon), and Monotaro & Monophanie (which is then implemented into Gokuharu’s execution, killing them both).

His sister’s name is never disclosed in-game or in any other Danganronpa media, so the fandom dubbed her “Miyadera/Miyatera,” which is an alternate way of reading Shinguji’s last name. The miya character - represented as 宮 - and tera character - 寺 - are both present in Shinguji, 真宮寺. For the rest of this essay/paper, I’ll be referring to his sister as Miyadera, and himself as Shinguji.

I’ll be getting deeper into his mischaracterization later on, but I want to talk about his appearance for now. Mainly, his hair, his mask, and the lipstick he wears. From what we see of Miyadera in Shinguji’s execution, if that is Miyadera at all, we can see that she had long hair, and when Shinguji was turned into a ghost, it was the exact shade of Shinguji’s hair. From here, we can assume that Miyadera looks exactly, if not similar, to Shinguji.

His lipstick and mask are results of representations of his tulpa, Miyadera. Tulpa is defined as “a concept in mysticism and the paranormal of a being or object which is created through spiritual or mental powers.” In much simpler terms, it is an object or living thing that was created/imagined through spiritual/mental abilities. Shinguji gained a tulpa by being beaten half to death by villagers shortly after arriving there. When he was in a state between life and death, he saw his sister, who joined his subconscious and took control of his body whenever his mask was off. It’s why we only see him take off his make once Saihara dubs him the culprit of Chapter 3, and why his voice suddenly took a more feminine tone. A quote from Miyadera, which can be found in the game, is, "Sweet Korekiyo, calm yourself... Their words are all hollow. There is no meaning to any of them... You must teach these ignorant children a lesson."

That statement can be interpreted two ways, one; that she’s trying to calm him down and two; she’s repeating whatever she said to him during childhood. It’s implied that Miyadera passed away from disease sometime before Killing Harmony takes place, which is both a good and bad thing. It’s great because then we have some time frame of how she was and how she acted when Shinguji knew her best.

Whenever I read the quote above, or any of her quotes, to be honest, I am filled with a sense of dread, or even, despair. The following quote especially makes me feel terrible; "Calm yourself, Korekiyo. You mustn't raise your voice. You mustn't stutter. You mustn't lose composure. You mustn't become flustered. You mustn't waver. Look at their horrid faces. This sorry lot is not worth agonizing over."

Have you noticed how she’s setting guidelines on how to defend himself? She’s turning Shinguji’s attention away from Saihara and the trial and to her because she knows that Shinguji trusts her even after all these years.

You might be wondering, “Milo, what the hell does that all have to do with Shinguji?” And I’ll tell you plain and simple: he was abused by Miyadera. Shocking, I know. Having Shinguji rave and rant about being in love with her, only to be a victim? Sadly, it’s very true indeed. Shinguji was most likely groomed and gaslighted into thinking that Miyadera loved him when that was not the case.

Gaslighting is defined as, “[to] manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their own sanity.” From the two quotes I provided, it doesn’t seem to make sense. Miyadera only sounds like a kind, worrisome older sister. Incorrect, I say. She’s emotionally gaslighting him, trying to make him believe that the trial makes no sense and he shouldn’t worry about any of them. I can also bet she used this tactic to control him as a younger person as well.

It’s a well-known fact that children are both impressionable and gullible. If an older sister figure came up to you as a child and told you to do unmentionable things, unfortunately, you might follow her directions. Shinguji states that his sister was a sickly girl who often stayed in the hospital. When she would come home, he’d be at his easiest to manipulate. Why would his dear, sweet, sickly, older sister ever lie to him?

Next, I’m going to be covering his relationships with other students, namely Shuichi Saihara and Rantaro Amami. These will delve further into spoiler territory, so if you didn’t already read the warnings I put in place, here is your extra warning for spoilers for Chapter 3 of Killing Harmony.

To start with, I’ll be exploring his poorer relationships first. Most of the girls fit into this category, namely Iruma, Harukawa, Chabashira, and Yonaga - that means he has a terrible standing with four of the eight girls present at the beginning of Killing Harmony, five if you count Yumeno’s way of dealing with Chabashira’s murder. Shinguji even taunts her once they solve that mystery, stating, “Let me guess, you’ll never forgive me. Himiko, you must hate me so very much right now. Maybe you’d feel better if I was executed by Monokuma…”

Shinguji has a poor relationship with Iruma and Harukawa due to seeing them as “unfit” to be “friends” with Miyadera. He has a poor relationship with Chabashira because he’s a degenerate male, but he still thinks she made a good friend for his sister. His poor relationship with Yonaga is shown in Chapter 3 when Yonaga forms the student council. Once again, I’m making amends to some parts of the characters. I’ll be referring to Yonaga’s god as God, simply because Atua is an actual Polynesian god in real life. Shinguji doesn’t worship any god, and so wants to study Yonaga’s God purely for anthropologic purposes. This displeases Yonaga, who then states that God's business hours are closed for the day. In Chapter 3 when Yumeno brings up Yonaga’s God, he simply asks whether or not they’re done talking about it, cementing his distrust in faith.

Next, I’ll cover his better relationships. Akamatsu isn’t too terribly creeped out by him and instead sees Shinguji as a kind guy who cares about his sister. Akamatsu even apologizes for saying that Shinguji would be into inc*st, this event either taking place in his first or second Free Time event. I’m saving his and Saihara’s relationship for last since I’ll have the most to write about then. Instead, please enjoy the news that in the events of Ultimate Talent Development Plan (UTDP for typing purposes), Shinguji and Amami are actually great friends. In Amami’s first free time event, he tells Akamatsu that Korekiyo has a strong personality, but she’ll be able to understand him plenty if she takes time to. It’s also stated that Amami emphasizes that Shinguji is also the calm and clever type.

Lastly, I’ll be exploring his relationship with Saihara. It’s slightly rocky, if only because Shinguji hasn’t let go of his sister yet, but it’s miles better than his relationship with Chabashira. Slight side note before we begin, I’ll be discounting the Love Hotel scene mostly because I’m a minor and I don’t feel completely comfortable having to watch that simply because I’m writing an analysis. As the game progresses to Chapter 3, Shinguji and Saihara have built trust between themselves. While Saihara still found Shinguji creepy, he [Saihara] never discounted him simply for existing. There was even a point where Shinguji offered to help Saihara communicate with Akamatsu from beyond the grave, though he was turned down.

Korekiyo Shinguji is a misunderstood and somewhat tragic character who usually gets disregarded and uncredited all because people do not like him. However he’s not an “uwu soft twamatized bean <3” either. He’s a strong character who has questionable morals at best and a terrible representation of an abused character at worst.

~*~

thank you for readiing!! p1ease make sure to get a hea1thy amount of s1eep and that you do have a cup of water and some food, you deserve iit!!

sources:

- https://danganronpa.fandom.com/wiki/Korekiyo_Shinguji

- https://www.quotev.com/story/7873923/Danganronpa-Class-Trials/73 (siide note: how fucked up iis iit that ii was on1y ab1e to fiind a transcriiptiion of the triia1 on quotev)