#anyways I found him and has been preordered | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cavalierious-whim · 11 months ago

Text

The Other Kind of Work Meeting (Neuvithesley)

Part of 'Tea and Paperwork'.

After weeks of being too busy with work to see each other, Wriothesely books a meeting with Neuvillette for a booty call.

Read here on AO3. You can also, follow me on Twitter. Mrk1pk also drew some amazing art based on this fic, truly blessing me-- you can find it here on their Twitter!

At the moment, my written work is my only source of income whilst I'm between jobs. Other ways that you can support can be found below-- even if HALF of my followers on Twitter follow my $1 Tier on Patreon, it'd be life-changing income for me, so if you love my work, please consider it!

You can find my Ko-Fi and Commission Info/Shops here.

You can purchase Digital PDFs of some of my works here on Gumroad.

Pre-Orders for physical books of selected works are still open for preorder in my Big Cartel Shop here.

And you can follow my Patreon here as well!

“Your schedule for the day,” says Sedene as she drops a folio onto Neuvillette’s desk.

He hums, finishing his note, the last letter curled at the end by his penmanship. “Ah, thanks Sedene.” She nods and keeps standing there, bobbing back and forth on her heels. Neuvillette looks at her, pen held over paper. “Yes?” he prompts.

“I… well, Monsieur Nuevillete, if you need me to hold your appointments around mid-afternoon—”

“Why would I need you to hold my appointments?” He pauses, thinking. “I don’t have standing appointments today, now that I think of it.”

“Aside from The Duke, of course.”

Neuvillette knows, for sure, that he doesn’t have a meeting with Wriothesley. It’s a point of contention at this point. They’ve both been too busy to even share a cup of tea, let alone handle anything work-related. Wriothesley has been sending his reports by way of low-level Fortress guards, and Neuvillette has sent his replies via agents of the Marechaussee Phantom. A nightmare. Neuvillette finds himself mildly agitated by the separation, far too used to his mate’s antics.

Wait.

He clears his throat, choosing to ignore the intrusive thought. “The Duke?” he asks.

“Oh? His Grace didn’t inform you?”

He did not. Neuvillette rubs his chin. “It must be of importance,” he replies. “I see. Well. No need to clear my schedule. I don’t think he’ll demand much of my time.”

Sedene blinks, her face morphing into something more akin to amusement. Neuvillette, decidedly, does not like that look, but says nothing, waving her off. She curtsies and leaves, and Neuvillette knows that he won’t hear the end of her teasing about it later.

But. He smiles behind his palm. At least he’ll see Wriothesley. That alone makes it worth it.

The thing about it is that Wriothesley doesn’t schedule meetings through official channels.

He’s a regular sight at the Opera Epiclese, coming and going as he pleases, the only man allowed to barge into Neuvillette’s office without knocking first—something that still annoys Sedene. And she judges him for it—judges them both, actually, her mouth pulled into a small downturn every time that Neuvillette waves off Wriothesley's eccentricities.

And she knows better, which is why Wriothesley struts into Neuvillette’s office with a grin on his face, saying, “Sedene told me she’s cleared your schedule for a bit.”

Because of course, she has. Neuvillette holds up a finger as he finishes reading over a report. “It must be important,” he eventually says as he turns a page. “I can’t think of the last time you booked a proper meeting with me.”

Wriothesley groans, dragging a hand down his face. “You know how busy it’s been. With the Archon dead and you all…” He waves at Neuvillette vaguely. “Primordial waters, people freaking out about the stability of Fontaine, blah, blah— it’s all a recipe for a nightmare. Headache-inducing. I’m drowning in reports.”

Neuvillette finally looks at him overtop the stack of paper in his hand. “Yes,” he says dryly. “Reports.”

Wriothesley snorts. “Right. Sorry. Anyway, as you know it’s been impossible to find even a moment to come see you. I miss our midday smooches—”

“Wriothesley.”

“Right, right. Work.” Wriothesley grins and does nothing to imply that he’s there for such a thing.

Neuvillette tilts his head. “Wriothesley? What was so important?”

Wriothesley pouts. “You don’t want to see me?”

“I—” Neuvillette pinches the bridge of his nose. “Of course, I want to see you.” In so many ways. His being craves him, set entirely off-kilter by his absence.

“Oh good. Do you know how long it’s been since we last kissed?”

“Wriothesley.”

“Last time I’ll mention it, I swear.”

A lie. They both know it. Wriothesley will not leave Neuvillette’s office without demanding one as a go-away present, to which he’ll give in all too easily. He’s missed it too; Wriothesely’s taste of tea, his scent of leather and grease, and his weight against him.

What a distracting thought. “Calling for a meeting,” Neuvillette then says. “Did something happen?”

“Somewhere, I’m sure.”

“Did you need my signature on a report?”

“You’ve approved everything I’ve asked for.”

“Then what is it that you need, Wriothesley?”

Wriothesley looks far too casual as he leans against the edge of Nevuillette’s desk, arms crossed over his chest. “Sweetheart—”

“Nothing good ever comes after you call me that.”

“I’d beg to differ. Good things always come after calling you that.” That gives Neuvillette pause. Wriothesley watches him with a half-grin spread across his face. “Oh? Have you figured it out?”

“Wriothesley, surely you didn’t use a work meeting to cover lecherous intent—”

“I definitely came here for a booty call.”

It is not the first time they’ve fucked in his office, nor will it be the last. And Neuvillette can’t blame Wriothesley; he’s just as bad and everyone knows it, which is the entire reason that Sedene cleared his schedule the moment she saw Wriothesley's name.

“I would hope that isn’t what you put on your request.”

“Of course, not,” replies Wriothesley. He moves, plucking the papers from Neuvillette’s hand and dropping them to the desk. Then he leans against it again, facing Neuvillette. “But I cannot confirm nor deny that it may say something about comparing budget reports. It’s been too long since I’ve last seen yours.”

They are, obviously, not talking about budget reports. Neuvillette laughs softly and scoots his chair forward until he’s close, reaching out to smooth his hands down Wriothesley's sides. “Eventually, Sedene will crack the code of that… particular vernacular.”

“She cracked it ages ago. Are you going to come up here or not? I haven’t kissed you in weeks.”

Neuvillette could. And oh, he wants to but there’s something to be said about restraint. Instead, he tugs Wriothesley's shirt from his trousers, hiking the hem just high enough to reveal the rise of a hip bone.

“What’re you doing there?”

“Is this not what you asked for?” Neuvillette glances up to find Wriothesley grinning back down at him.

“I do think that I wanted a kiss.” Wriothesley slides his fingers through Neuvillette’s hair, petting it.

Neuvillette presses a kiss to the skin right above the waistband of his trousers, nuzzling, and inhaling Wriothesley's scent. Oh, he’s missed this. Instantly, he relaxes at the mere smell of his— “Yes,” he says, distracting himself.

“That’s not what I—” Wriothesley stops as Neuvillette’s fingers tease the opening of his trousers, tracing the length of his rapidly hardening cock. He swallows, his throat bobbing. “Well, if you want to kiss me there instead, I certainly won’t complain.”

He does nothing to stop Neuvillette from popping open the fly and even helps by shimmering out trousers. Wriothesley kicks them and his boots off when they hit the ground. “So needy,” teases Neuvillette, nuzzling the bulge of his cock through his underclothes, inhaling the heady scent of Wriothesley's arousal.

It takes nothing to tug down his underwear and toss them to the side. Neuvillette takes hold of his cock, kissing the flushed tip that already drips precome. “Wet.” Another tease, one that drags an annoyed huff from Wriothesley's throat. “Stiff.”

“You’ve got to get better at the dirty talk,” says Wriothesley.

Neuvillette flashes him a half-lidded look before dragging his tongue around the crown of his dick. Then his lips seal around it and he sinks the entire way, taking Wriothesley's cock to the root.

Wriothesley jerks, knocking his elbow against the desk. “Fuck,” he hisses, choking on whatever taunt he was about to throw his way.

Neuvillette hums around him, pulling back to suckle the tip. He strokes the rest with his hand, smiling around Wriothesley's cock as he loses his words, tugging on Neuvillette’s hair instead. He’d forgotten the feel of it on his tongue, how well it fills his mouth. Neuvillette bobs his head, slipping down his length again, moaning when Wriothesley bucks into his mouth, unable to stop himself.

“Gods, that feels good.”

For all his teasing about kisses, Wriothesley is quick to surrender himself. Neuvillette pulls off, dragging his tongue through the slit of Wriothesley's cock, and then asks, “Did you lock the door?”

“Did I—what?”

“The door,” repeats Neuvillette, kissing his way down the length, as if he isn’t trying to also have a conversation. “Did you lock it?”

“I—” Wriothesley gasps as Neuvillette’s fingers drag down the seam of his balls before squeezing them gently. “Um.”

“Wriothesley.”

“That’s—fuck, I can’t think—oh.”

Neuvillette’s fingers press between his asscheeks next, slick with Hydro as they ghost across his hole. “Beloved,” he calls him next, knowing it’ll undo Wriothesley entirely. And it does; Wriothesley's legs spread and he groans as Neuvillette prods at his rim. “The door?”

“You’re so—” A grunt of annoyance as Wriothesley's head tips back. Neuvillette circles his rim, a finger testing the give but not sinking in. “No, I didn’t. But Sedene—”

“Why are you mentioning her right now?”

“She—she’s—”

“She is guarding that door for us, I promise you.” Neuvillette can’t help but laugh at the thought. They’ll both get an earful of it later, that’s for sure. Wriothesley likely already did before he even came in here because Sedene most definitely chided him for using official channels to get railed.

Neuvillette’s finger bullies Wriothesley's hole, fucking it open slowly. Tight; Wriothesley is so tight. Neuvillette cock aches at the thought of being buried inside of him. Gods. Wriothesley is right. It’s been too long, he should’ve—they should have—

There is no use lingering on the thought of it. Wriothesley came to him, desperate and needy, begging to be filled. Those age-old, draconian instincts revel, heat rising in his gut. Neuvillette’s finger sinks deeper. He kisses down Wriothesley's cock, his own aching behind too-tight trousers.

He swallows Wriothesley down until the tip hits the back of his throat and his finger is settled to the last knuckle. In and out, on and out, until that finger is pulled free and slides back in alongside a second. He sucks around Wriothesley's cock, tongue tracing the underside. He curls his fingers, searching, curling until they slide across Wriothesley's prostate.

Wriothesley bucks, yanking at Neuvillette’s hair. The sting is the good kind of burn that makes his spine tingle. It spurs him on, adding fuel to his list. Neuvillette spreads his fingers, working at Wriothesley's rim, Hydro dripping down his wrist. He pulls off and says, “If I had the time, I’d open you up on my tongue.”

“Don’t—that’s—”

“How I’ve missed your taste.” Neuvillette tongue licks the length of Wriothesley's cock before he strokes it with his free hand. A third finger traces Wriothesley's rim where it’s stretched wide around the others. “Do you want another?”

“I want your cock,” snaps Wriothesley, his patience having run its course.

And Neuvillette wants Wriothesley to come on it, biting at his mouth to stifle his moans. His lips find The base of Wriothesley's cock where it meets his groin and he suckles at the skin there. His fangs drag over the muscle, bruising it up to be admired later.

He pulls his fingers out and gives Wriothesley's hole a quick flick of his tongue; enough to tease, enough to edge Wriothesley just by the thought of it sinking deeper to fuck him next. Neuvillette wishes he had more time, that Wriothesley was spread out beneath him in his bed, not against his desk; that he could fuck him open slowly, dragging orgasm after orgasm from him until Wriothesley comes dry.

Later. Neuvillette will carve out time just to see Wriothesley begging for him. He misses waking up tangled together and the lazy morning kisses as Wriothesley refuses to leave the sheets. It’s been too long since Neuvillette’s pillows carried his scent.

Neuvillette stands and lifts Wriothesley onto the desk, boxing him in.

“Do I finally get that kiss?” asks Wriothesley, curling his fingers into Neuvillette’s cravat and pulling him close.

“I’ve kissed you.” Neuvillette’s hands find Wriothesey’s sides, squeezing.

“Not where I wanted—”

“You didn’t want that?” Neuvillette chuckles, feeling his expression melt into amusement. “You were the one who scheduled a meeting for a booty call.”

Wriothesley tugs at his cravat again. “Hey,” he says. “Kiss me, damn it.”

How can Neuvillette deny such a request? How can he ignore his chosen mate when he begs for him so readily? Wriothesely demands it with such authority that he can’t help but give in. Neuvillette takes hold of his chin and drags his thumb across Wriothesley's bottom lip.

Wriothesley nips at this thumb. “How long are you going to stare?”

“Should I make you beg for it?” muses Neuvillette. But he doesn’t, sweeping close, giving him the kiss he’s been waiting for.

It is hungry and desperate. Wriothesley curls an arm around Neuvillette’s neck to hold him there, licking into his mouth the moment their mouths meet. Neuvillette’s hands wander, pulling at Wriothesley's hips until they’re crushed together. His cock aches. They grind against each other as it twitches in Neuvillette’s trousers.

Wriothesley's hands drop to squeeze at it, tracing its curve through the thick fabric. “You know that Sedene is timing us, right? Even though she cleared your schedule we’re still working with borrowed time.” Wriothesley's eyes flicker to the clock where the hands sit at fifteen past noon. “I’ve got you until the half-hour.”

Plenty of time. Neuvillette will be lucky if he doesn’t come the moment his cock is inside of Wriothesley. “Right,” he mutters, shoving Wriothesley's jacket from his shoulders. They can’t fully undress but Neuvillette wants to see as much of him as possible, fingers trailing the curve of his biceps.

Wriothesley pulls Neuvillette’s trousers open and frees his cock, giving it a stroke. “Fuck, I’ve missed this guy.”

“Don’t be crass,” hisses Neuvillette, but gods, his touch is impossible to ignore. He bucks against his hand before grabbing at Wriothesley's wrist to still it.

Wriothesley gives him a coy grin. “Oh? That close already?”

“Cruel thing,” replies Neuvillette. “I should use my fingers on you, instead. Deny you the pleasure of—”

“You wouldn’t.” Wriothesley is breathless as he says it. “You’re too gone. You need this, you need me.”

He does. Archons, above, he does—and Neuvillette isn’t one to pay them any heed, evidence of just how clouded his brain is. Chock full of Wriothesley; his scent, how he lies so prone below him, begging to be fucked. Need claws through his chest, that ember of pleasure flaring in his gut.

“Yes,” he says, dragging Wriothesley close by the hips. He wets his hand with Hydro and slicks his cock before pressing the tip to Wriothesley's loose hole. One quick thrust—that’s all it takes for Neuvillette to carve himself a home for his cock.

Wriothesley yelps, his head slamming back against the desk as his back arches.

Too tight, too hot, too good. Neuvillette has to pause and take a moment to reorient himself. “Wriothesley,” he chides, dragging a hand down his front, fingers dipping into his open collar to tease the skin there, “you have to be quieter.”

The answer is a grunt. Wriothesley is woefully impatient, lifting his hips, and begging for more. Neuvillette is drunk on the sight of him, all flushed cheeks, and nails clawing at the wood of his desk. Wriothesley's cock is hard and leaking against his stomach, making a mess.

“Handsome.” Neuvillette’s hand drops to stroke Wriothesley's length. “I almost forgot how you look underneath me.” He hasn’t—of course, he hasn’t; it’s a sight that plagues Neuvillette’s dreams. But the words have their desired effect as Wriothesley pulls him close, the heel of his feet jammed against the small of Neuvillette’s back.

“Fuck me already. Please.”

Neuvillette clicks his tongue at that but pulls out to the tip nonetheless. Wriothesley gasps as he thrusts back in, heavy and hard, and lacking his usual finesse. They fuck just like that, with Neuvillette leaning over Wriotheseley, the wood of the desk creaking every time his cock strikes deep. Wriothesley scrabbles against him, fingers digging into his back. He smells divine, the sharp scent of his arousal cutting through the air like the finest of brewed teas. Neuvillette turns his face to mouth at his neck, suckling at the skin.

Wriothesley moans. He gasps and moves against him, lifting his hips to meet every thrust. It’s feral. Frantic and frenzied, Neuvillette’s thighs slapping against Wriothesley's ass like a wave crashing against the shore. Already the heat builds, threatening to bubble over. Already, Neuvillette finds himself drowning in the feel of it, in the taste of it.

“Beloved,” he says against Wriothesley's ear. Wriothesley shudders as Neuvillette jerks his cock in time with the rolling of his hips. “How I love this. You came to me, hm? You bribed my secretary for a quick fuck because you missed me. And yes, I’ve missed you. Hah, I’ve—” Sweat beads across his brow as he presses their foreheads together. “You know that I love you,” he says in the heat of the moment.

And he doesn’t mean to. Neuvillette barely knows what the damn word even means, but it doesn’t come as a question, it just slips out as the fact that it is. He knows, Wriothesely knows, Sedene knows; and the moment Neuvillette says it, it’s as if a weight has been lifted. “I love you,” he says again, despite knowing it is, likely, the worst confession to ever be had.

Wriothesley accidentally knocks an ink well off of the desk. A stack of papers next, a container of pens. None of it matters; just the way that he keens and stares back. His cock twitches in Neuvillette’s palm. He moans, arching again, head tilted just so that his neck is on display.

He has no idea, no concept of what it means, but Neuvillette accepts the submission at the same. He bites at his neck again, this time his teeth sinking into the flesh right at the juncture of where it meets his shoulders. Not the proper spot—no. That’ll require a lengthy talk not during the heat of the moment, but it does wonders to quell that old dragon that rages through Neuvillette’s veins.

“Are you close,” he asks, lapping at the mark he’s just left, the tip of his tongue tracing the pinpricks left behind by his teeth.

“Yes, gods, yes.”

Neuvillette smiles against him, squeezing at Wriothesley's cock. “Perfect,” he says. “You’re so—you cannot fathom how I feel—”

“I can,” cuts in Wriothesley. His fingers curl into Neuvillette’s hair to yank at it. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Wriothesley—”

“I’m close. Gods, I’m—don’t ruin it by thinking of dumb shit,” hisses Wriothesley as he wriggles against him, forcing Neuvillette’s cock to nail his prostate at the perfect angle. “There, there—”

All that dumb shit is forgotten momentarily when Wriothesley kisses him again. Neuvillette swallows his moans, fucking him sharply, his cock melting in Wriothesley's heat with every strike of his cock. And he comes first, spilling into him, dreaming of too many things, and not enough things, but mostly—I love you, I love you, I love you.

Wriothesley follows him, soaking his hand, groaning as Neuvillette strokes him through it.

Suddenly, his office is too hot. Wriothesley's legs drop from Neuvillette’s waist as he goes lax on his desk. “Fuck, that was—”

And then they both remember. Neuvillette’s mouth opens, an excuse already on the tip of his tongue. Heat of the moment. Old instincts. A romance novel on the mind; these are the stupid ideas that he comes up with.

“We’ll talk about it later,” says Wriothesley, tugging Neuvillette’s attention back to him. He laughs, brushing back his bangs. “Don’t give me that wounded look—it’s almost twelve-thirty and I’m tired of Sedene catching me with my trousers down.”

Neuvillette pulls out his cock gingerly, soothing the edge of Wriothesley's wrecked hole with his thumb. Come dribbles out onto his desk and he fights the urge to fuck it back into him.

“Admiring your work?”

“I…” Neuvillette clears his throat. “Yes.” There is no need to hide the thought of it. Wriothesley is intimately aware of the sorts of things he indulges in.

Wriothesley cracks a grin before standing on shaking legs. He manages to dress. He even pulls Neuvillette’s trousers closed, buttoning them up with an impressive show of articulation. Neuvillette isn’t sure that he can get any of his limbs moving properly, still stuck in his head, and drowning in the peak of his pleasure.

“For the record,” says Wriothesley then, reaching up to undo Neuvillette’s haphazard cravat, “I love you too.” He ties it off and leans close for a kiss, this one sweet and lingering.

“Wriothesley—”

Sedene throws open the door and gives them the look. “I gave you an extra five minutes,” she drawls before glancing at the clock. “As I reminded you before letting you in, Your Grace, Monsieur Neuvillette has a lot of work on the docket for today. You’ve distracted him for long enough.” Then her nose wrinkles in distaste and turns away, leaving the room without another word.

“You should clean up your desk before she comes in and threatens me again,” laughs Wriothesley.

They share another kiss. Neuvillette sighs, pressing their foreheads together. His heart beats rapidly in his chest as he tries to ground himself, but every instinct that he has begs for him to hole Wriothesley away. “She’s a cruel thing at times.”

“She’s just doing her job.”

“At this moment, I would rather she not.”

“You are her boss.” Wriothesley's mouth is curled into a grin and he straightens Neuvillette’s collar. Then his expression softens as his voice quiets. “Stay with me tonight. We’ll have that talk. I think it’s overdue.”

That is true enough. Neuvillette has had many sleepless nights trying to figure out what exactly it is that coils in his chest. He tugs Wriothesley's hand to his mouth for a kiss and says, “Alright.”

Wriothesley boops Neuvillette’s nose with his finger and pulls away. And Neuvillette stares as he leaves, watching the door long after he’s gone, standing there like a fool.

Which is how Sedene finds him. Another glance at the clock before she sniffs. “I think if you clean up quickly and focus on the budget reports, you can probably leave a little bit early. And maybe even take the day off tomorrow.”

Neuvillette hides a grin behind his palm. “Is that so?”

“Even Chief Justices need occasional vacations. As well as Prison Administrators, apparently. I’ll send word to Sigewinne.”

“Thank you, Sedene.”

She waves it off with a grunt, closing his office door behind her.

A mess is left behind. Ink stains his rug and he’ll have to make new copies of several reports. Never before has Neuvillette felt an urgency to finish up his tasks, but he does these things briskly, his mind pulled into a thousand different places.

Neuvillette does leave early—earlier than expected because he chooses to forgo his work for the day, far too distracted to focus on any of it.

Later, when Wriothesley opens the door of his quarters, he leans against the frame, a grin splitting his face. “So, I heard from a little birdie that you and I have the day off tomorrow. Wanna see how many times I can squeeze in an ‘I love you’?”

Not that Neuvillette has ever felt like a stranger, but this time it truly feels like coming home.

#Cavalierious Fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin #genshin smut #neuvithesley #neuvillette/wriothesley #tea & paperwork

1 note · View note

daughterdooley · 3 years ago

Text

[ID: a photo of gunpowder tim from the mechanisms, next to him are a variety of different clothing and accessory items that fall under the j-fashion style lolita.] styling lolita coords based on fictional characters i like part 2 of y'know i think it's vaguely amusing that tim is my favorite crew member and yet he's not the first i made one for. full image description + piece names + notes under the cut.

[extended ID: a photo of gunpowder tim, a white person with long brown hair and a beard dressed in brown steampunk attire, he's leaning over some sort of barrier, he's editted next to a bunch of clothing and accessory items, from top to bottom, they are a frilly deep green bonnet, a brown wig with loose curls that reaches below the shoulder, an off-white blouse covered in lace with loose, princess-style sleeves, a pair of goggles, a pendant with a heart-shaped enamel charm depicting an eyes, a deep green dress decorated with military badges, along the border of its skirt there are cats dressed in uniforms marching in a circle, it has black ribbon straps and a black ribbon waist-bow, a pair of thin black lace gloves that fan out at the edges, a ring version of the pendant, a small cross-body black leather pouch, a pair of calf-legnth off-white socks with lace ruffles along the edges, and a pair of black heeled boots with a scalloped top. END.]

baby the stars shine bright - velveteen torchon lace full bonnet, notes: i originally had a giant black bonnet with built in car ears here but it overpowered the rest of the coord. rest in peace cat bonnet.

unknown indie brand - unknown wig, notes: i found this one on devil inspired and there was no brand listed, i do really like this wig though and have been debating getting it for myself

unknown indie brand - unknown blouse, notes: once again this is a blouse i found on devil inspired with no listed brand name, that being said i do plan to get this blouse to coord with a jsk i recently preordered

alice and the pirates - steam rabbit goggles, notes: i intend for these to sort of hang around the neck of the wearer instead of sitting on the head so as to not crowd the bonnet

automatic honey - my lover's eye ring + pendant, notes: you'd be surprised how few eye-themed pieces there are out there, i'll tell you that much

lyre-ivy - military cats jsk, notes: ok i found this while looking through military stuff for the toy soldier's coord, i'm nothing if not constantly in awe of the lolita dedication to putting both cats and cupcakes into literally anything

moi-même-moitié - lace gloves with teardrop charm, notes: moitie my BELOVED, i don't have much to say here save for that the designer was in a couple bands that i think mechs fans should check out bc i think y'all would at least like moi dix mois, he's such an icon i love him sm

alice and the pirates - cogwheel of time mobile case, notes: i originally had this vivid image of a pochette similar to aatp's coffin style pochette that had an eye embroidered on it but apparently! i'm not lucky enough for any! sort of eye bag to exist across all of lolita-dom! i'm going to have to start my own brand or something.

angelic pretty - toe shoes lace knee socks

jane marple - scallop trimmed lace up boots, notes: i can't wait to be off this mechs series so i never have to look at a jane marple piece again. sorry they're just so plain i subscribe to the hime substyle and this physically pains me.

ok so. i started the last one out like that didn't i? anyways, tim. i started out by stumbling across the military cats jsk during yesterday's coord and in that moment i went "oh! tim mainpiece!" i Could have went full military lolita with this coord but tbh? after all he went through with the moon war i think he needs a break. i think he deserves to have the coord inspired by him to be flouncy and covered in lace. i think i deserve to put together a coord that's flouncy and covered in lace before i tackle the rest of the crew bc steampunk isn't actually a lolita style so lolibrary (lolita database) isn't going to help me and a solid half of 'steampunk lolita' coords out there are ita (lolita slang for coords in violation of the rules of lolita or that are generally tacky). at least i have raphaella and dr carmilla to help me prepare myself for the inevitable (scrolling through archives of aatp pieces until i find something that makes vague amounts of sense).

#romeo.txt #the mechs #the mechanisms #lolita fashion #gunpowder tim

40 notes · View notes

d0llpie · 4 years ago

Note

Heyy, can I request headcanons with Atsumu, Suna, Iwaizumi and Akaashi for this

The reader is on her period, and they go out on a date and she's wearing her favourite dress/skirt but it's her worst day ever when her period leak on her clothes 😭. So her boyfriend saw it and cover her using their jacket 🥺 flufff 🐣🥺

Getting their period during a date

Atsumu x reader, Suna x reader, Iwaizumi x reader, Akaashi x reader

a/n: why is suna so hard to write for 😩😗 anyways, thank you for the request love <3

wc: 2.1k

Atsumu

- Tsumu had just come home after an away game tournament and you were so excited to finally get to see him

- You preordered a dress just for the date, it was light purple and suited you perfectly

- Atsumu was already dressed and ready while you were finishing off your hair and make up

- You put on some black heels and headed downstairs to leave with Tsumu

- “Woah, Hi baby, you look fantastic!” he was grinning widely, he came up and wrapped his arms around you smothering you in a hug

- you giggled “Tsumu not too tight!” you slapped his bicep and he released you from his grip

- “alright let’s go babe, i’ve got your purse” you kissed him on the cheek opening the door “so where are we going?”

- “you know i’m not gonna tell you that, just hop in the car, you can play your music” you smiled up at him before settling into the passenger seat and plugging your phone into the aux.

- You arrived at a beautiful restaurant and looked over at Atsumu with wide eyes “wow, i guess i can handle you going away if this is what i get when you come back” he laughed at you before slipping an arm around you waist and walking you to a booth by the window

- After a while you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, when you came back atsumu was acting slightly different

- “hey baby are you feeling okay?” you nodded, finishing off your drink “yeah what’s up? do you wanna go home?” tsumu nodded “yeah we can watch a movie and cuddle” you smiled and looked over at him lovingly

- “that sounds beautiful Tsumu” you stood up and Atsumu stumbled up to walk over to you, draping his blazer over your shoulders “babe this is way too big, i’m not even cold” he shushed you and walked you outside with his arm around you

- Once you got in the car you turned to face him “Tsumu are you okay? why are you rushing so much?” he looked over at you nervously “uh, yer period, you kinda leaked babe i just didn’t want the people in the restaurant to see..” you grew embarrassed quickly

- “so i guess that explains why you were extra nice tonight” he sent you an offended gasp “i am always nice! jeez woman i try to help” you rolled your eyes, plugging your phone back in to play your music as you drove home

- “Ugh this dress has only been worn once too :(“ you huffed, taking the dress off “i wanted to tear it off ya anyway if that helps!” you looked over to Atsumu quizzically “it doesn’t..?” “oh”

- You showered quickly and changed into some comfy pyjamas, when you went downstairs you found Atsumu with a bunch of blankets and snacks on the couch “C’mere babe, i’ll let you pick the movie” you jumped onto him, covering his face in kisses

- “Thank you Tsum Tsum” you grinned before snuggling up to him and playing your favourite movie, you fell asleep before Atsumu carried you to bed, resting his hand on your lower stomach to give you some warmth while you slept.

Iwaizumi

- You planned a picnic date with Iwaizumi since you drove past a pretty park you hadn’t seen before on your way to visit your friend.

- You had texted Iwaizumi when you first saw it that it would be a cute date spot and so he took the following saturday off of work so he could spend the day with you

- The park was kind of far so you packed a large basket of food and a blanket

- Your friend had bought you a sundress a while ago but you hadn’t had the opportunity to wear it out on a date yet and so you were excited

- The sundress was yellow with orange flecks, it was flowy and went down to your mid calf, you paired it with a pretty necklace Iwaizumi had bought you on an anniversary before styling your hair and makeup

- You dressed up more than usual because you thought the park would be a beautiful spot to take some cheesy photos with Hajime.

- “You ready love?” you looked up to see Iwaizumi staring at you in the mirror with a lovesick grin and a slight blush on his face

- “You like the dress Haji?” you stood and turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck “mhm” he hummed leaning in to kiss you softly, you pulled away smiling, “alright let’s go”

- He intertwined your hands as you walked to the car, him carrying the basket insisting you shouldn’t

- When you arrived it was just as pretty as when you’d first seen it, the sunset was clear in view and the giant trees surrounding the field littered with flowers allowed the sunlight to cast beautiful shadows

- You grabbed the blanket, placing it down and lay down smiling, looking up at the blue sky, littered with orange shadows as the afternoon came around

- “here love, have this” you opened your mouth as Haji fed you a strawberry, you scrunched your face at how cold it was and he chuckled, flicking your forehead

- “Hajiii~ let’s take some photos look how pretty the sky is now!” you knew how bad Iwaizumi was at taking photos so you took some videos of you both sitting with the sunset behind you and took screenshots so Iwaizumi looked more natural

- “aww look how cute this one is Haji” you knelt over to show him your phone and he wrapped his jacket around your waist “baby?” you questioned and he pulled you into him

- “love don’t freak out but you have some blood on your dress, i can wash it out but do you want to head home?” you flushed in embarassment before realising you ruined your pretty dress

- You frowned realising you wouldn’t get to stargaze, oh well there were always other nights “yeah okay, thank you baby” “no problem” he left a lingering kiss on your forehead, ushering you to the car so he could pack up the picnic himself

- When you got home you placed your dress in the laundry sink, frowning again before walking into the bathroom to see Haji running you a bath “you don’t have to do all this” you came and rubbed his shoulders as he sat on the edge

- “It’s nothing, plus you planned out date- which was beautiful by the way, it’s the least i can do” you grinned and kissed his cheek “i wonder if the team knows how much of a softie their trainer really is” you teased, kissing his cheek again

- “Only for you love.”

Akaashi

- Akaashi took you into the city for a date today, you’d been stressed with work and akaashi knew your schedule so on your free day he wanted to take you out

- You were excited to dress up and get out of the house finally so you were ecstatic when Akaashi had taken you into the city for a date

- You put on a nice skirt and a backless top before grabbing your purse and heading out

- Akaashi was driving with his hand on your thigh the whole time, open palm steering and glancing over at you any chance he could

-“Keiji, focus on the road” you giggled, placing your hand over his and squeezing lightly, he smiled, looking over at you again

- “Sorry darling, you look so gorgeous though, even more than usual” he squeezed your thigh gently, smiling as you blushed “You look pretty handsome yourself”

- After Akaashi parked you made your way to a busy street filled with food trucks, pretty benches with fairy lights above them and two roads filled with people walking through

- “ooo keiji let’s get one of those!” you hugged his arm tighter into your chest, pointing at a couple sharing a giant milkshake with ice cream and chocolate toppings covering it

- “Let’s have some proper food first mkay?” you pouted before nodding, dragging Keiji to different food stalls to see the foods while he just watched you, gazing at you with a soft smile etched on his features

- Once you found some food you both wanted you were looking around for a place to sit and eat

- “Darling, here take this.” Akaashi tied his jacket around your waist before resting his hands on your sides and pressing a kiss to the top of your head

- “what’s wrong ‘kaashi?” you slowed down from how fast you were walking previously and grabbed his hand, holding your dinner in the other

- “your period came a little early, don’t worry you didn’t leak much but i just thought you’d feel more comfortable if you covered it”

- you hugged him tightly, he rested his head on your shoulder “you’re so perfect Keiji, at least i know why i wanted that ice cream so bad..” you laughed trying to shake off your sudden awkwardness

- “we can get that soon and then go home if you prefer? i’m sorry you didn’t get to spend that much time out of the house, i know you’ve been stressed” you frowned at how Keiji was feeling guilty

- “that sounds amazing, this date has been amazing, you’re amazing ‘kaashi, i love you” he intertwined your hands, squeezing gently “i love you blossom”

- you ordered the ice cream shake and headed back to the car

- when you got home Keiji ran you a hot bath while he grabbed your favourite hoodie of his and some pyjama pants

- you hopped into bed and snuggled up into Kejis side as he read a book “goodnight kaashi” “goodnight love”, he kissed the top of your head as you fell asleep

Suna

- You were out with your friends, dressed up in a blue dress before you had to leave for Sunas game

- You didn’t have time to go home and change but it was okay, it never hurt to be dolled up around Rin

- When you arrived they were just starting the first set, you settled into the crowd, waving at Rin on the court

- Suna looked up at you and smiled before his mouth hung open slightly, taking in the sight of you before smiling even wider

- “y/n looks good, you guys have a date after this?” Samu asked Suna

- “Nah, she was out with some friends guess she stayed there a bit longer, she looked amazing though” Rin looked back up at you, grinning distractedly

- “Hey, the game? She looks good but focus” Suna turned his attention back to the court as they played

- During half time Suna couldn’t stop glancing up at you, every time he spiked his eyes would find you, this was typical but today he held his gaze much longer, drinking in the sight of you

- Once the whistle blew, signifying their win he ran up into the stands, searching to find you before pulling you into him by your hips

- “Rin! Congratulations baby, you did so well!” you cheered for him, pecking him on the lips before turning to drag him back down “You look amazing baby, just wait.” He took out his team jacket, wrapping it around you before pulling you into another kiss

- “Don’t want people looking at you, that dress is gorgeous but you stand out a bit, also i think your period might’ve leaked.” your smile dropped at how cute protective Rin was and you stood there shocked

- “what?!” you frantically tightened the jacket around you “hey hey, it’s okay, let’s go home, we can cuddle and take a nap” you calmed down a little

- “yeah let’s go..” you both drove to your house, you washed your dress while Rin showered before jumping in after him

- Once you were both settled into the covers and in pajamas he pulled you into his chest “don’t stress y/n, i know how you get but it’s no big deal, sleep now”

- you hummed against his chest, tilting your head to kiss him lightly “thank you rin, i love you” “mhm sleep” you scoffed

- “say it back Rin” you feigned a scowl “oh right, i love you too, sleeping now” you giggled before cuddling into his chest, sleeping in his arms.

380 notes · View notes

troopers-toons · 3 years ago

Text

So I see the bobs burgers movie in roughly 2 days now on May 25th (I got early access tickets from something Bouchard and co set up) and I just want to dump all of my theories as to what will happen here (that of which is like 2 at most):

- Bob’s Mom will appear

Bobs mom has been only mentioned throughout the show and only being partially shown in “Interview with a Pop-pop-pire” in season 12. However, when I was searching for bobs burgers movie merch a few months ago when toddland hadn’t released anything yet (I was bored in science class and wanted to see what I could find) I found a link a website selling kidrobot figurines (a company that has made official figurines in the show in the past) and found a blind now for preorder. The majority of the characters were from the itty bitty ditty committee but one in particular remained a mystery:

I had no idea who the one in the top left hand corner was supposed to be, so I scrolled down to the product description and would you look at that it had classified the figurine as “4 year old Bob”. Given the hints we’ve been given through season 12 about the sinkhole, I think episodes like “Clear and Present Ginger” and “Interview with a pop pop pire” may have been used to drop hints about the appearance of ginger and/or bobs mom, the later having more evidence.

- The mystery of Mr Fischoeder’s eye will be revealed through him telling Gene

Okay, I know this sounds like a weird combination, but I’ll get to why it’s Gene specifically. First off, in either the 2020 or 2021 comic con panel for bobs burgers, I distinctly remember Loren Bouchard talking about the mystery of Calvin’s eye being revealed in the movie (as well as extra details about it being very graphic). While I don’t have the clip, I started to get excited after remembering this info as the movie started to get closer and closer. And then these two clips appeared in some recent trailers:

First clip: Gene is playing with Mr Fischoeder’s piano, saying “yea right” only to get caught off guard by something he sees when he turns around

Second clip: mr Fischoeder compliments gene’s musical contraption made from the napkin dispenser and spoons and tells him to keep on playing as they both sit on the bench together

I’m thinking that the thing that Gene gets surprised by could be mr fischoeder without his eye patch seeing how his facial expression switches so quickly upon seeing someone or something behind him and the two later bonding over a song. Perhaps this small moment is where mr fischoeder will reveal the truth to Gene after gaining a liking towards him through music

Anyways that’s it. Once the movie comes out on May 27th to everyone I’ll probably reblog this and share my thoughts on what actually happened

#bob's burgers #bobs burgers #bobs burgers fanart #bobs burgers movie #mr fischoeder #calvin fischoeder #bob belcher #gene belcher #bobs burgers theory #theorizing #late night ramblings #felix fischoeder #if this happens to be spot on in anyway I will sob #I’m so excited to see it early oh my god I cant wait #I’ll refrain from talking about it online until the 27th though so dw to the two people that follow me 💪

15 notes · View notes

myrandomfandomramblings · 3 years ago

Text

Making memories - a Chenford fanfic

For Chenfordficweek2021 - as described by @therookiebook

Instead of a fic a day for chenford fic week I decided to just write one incorporating as many prompts as possible. This is because when I read them a few just connected in my head and then I had way to much fun seeing how many I could kinda incorporate. Some of the quotes aren’t word for word but the lines are inspired by the original prompt.

*Note: my beach fic was also inspired by this prompt list but I got antsy and posted it early so if you haven’t read it, you can check it out.

Main prompt: Road Trip

Other prompts:

July 11th-

"Is that you...singing? Since when can you sing?"

"I wish we could stay like this forever."

Fight

"You're comfier than a pillow."

July 12th-

With Child(ren)- theirs or not

"I fucked up."

"Where have you been?"

July 13th-

"You're crushing me." "I can't breathe with you on me."

"Stay here."

"What do you want?"

July 14th-

"I'm calling the police." "We are the police."

"Don't move."

"That a new dress?"

Sweet tooth

July 15th-

Locked out (Car/house/station)

"Stop hogging all the blankets."

"Why are you bleeding?"

"Make me."

July 16th-

Shopping together or for the other

Getting lost

"Is that my shirt?"

Under the stars

July 17th-

Competition

Tears

"Why are you so late?"

When Lucy arrives in role call and hears she’s partnered with Tim for the day, she’s excited. When she hears they are to wear civvies and take Tim’s truck to surveil a suspect, she’s confused. And when said suspect drives further and further out of LA and they are instructed to keep on his tail, she’s annoyed. If she didn’t know better she’d think some writer designed the assignment purely because it was convenient for their story. Nevertheless, this is her life: crashing at a random hotel nearly nine hours from LA, after finally being relieved of surveillance detail, by the local sheriffs department, at 2:30am. The plus side is she’s being paid overtime, not only for the late night but also for the commute back to the city tomorrow. The down side is despite being exhausted she twists and turns all night unable to get comfortable in the strange environment. So when Tim knocks on the adjoining door between their rooms at 10am she’s already been up for a few hours. She has written a journal entry in her notes, preordered drinks for them to pick up at Starbucks and spent more time than she’d like to admit on google maps and various travel sites researching their trip home. She has also found time to plunder the continental breakfast and is currently demolishing a strawberry danish and a cinnamon bun. This earns criticism from Tim, whose plate carries sausage, eggs and an orange.

By 11am they’re on the open road again, coffees in the console between them. The small talk they had been making since they left the hotel had slowly died out so now they sit in comfortable silence. That is until Lucy reaches over to turn on the radio.

“You know how I feel about car radios Chen,” Tim warns in his best TO voice.

“Even off shift?” Lucy scoffs, and continues to press the on button and turn the volume dial up. Nevertheless, nothing happens.

“Looks like it doesn’t work anyway,” Tim states as he continues to hold the volume down button on the steering wheel, unbeknownst to Lucy.

“Fine then I’ll be the radio.” “You like Lady Marmalade, right?” She’s referencing Tim’s LA CLEAR security answer but she doesn’t wait for his reaction or reply before beginning to belt out the opening lyrics.

As she sings his initially surprised expression, morphs to shock and then awe.

“Since when can you sing?” he asks when she finishes.

She just shrugs, looking down at her hands as they begin to fiddle in her lap.

“Now I wish the radio really was broken,” Tim states as he turns it on and music starts playing.

Lucy shoots him a quick death glare before turning her attention back out the window.

---

By noon Lucy’s singing quietly along to the music (causing Tim to reevaluate his opinion on car radios) when she suddenly sneezes then freezes as her eyes go wide.

“Ah, can you stop at the next place with a bathroom?” she asks bashfully.

“We haven’t even been driving that long can you hold it?”

“Find me a bathroom or your truck will be covered in blood,” Lucy says, her tone conveying urgency.

“What? Why are you bleeding?” Tim asks, confused.

“If you don’t know why I, a woman, would be bleeding and thus need a bathroom then the public school system failed you.”

“Oh, ah, right, sorry,” Tim stutters, “I think there’s a small town at the next exit.”

“Thank-you,” Lucy replies clearly relieved.

“Do we need to find a drug store or do you have what you need?’

“Ya, if you could find a drug store.” She’s fiddling again, unable to shake the feeling of embarrassment even though she knows, rationally, she has nothing to be embarrassed about.

Several minutes later Tim’s pulling into the drug store parking lot and Lucy’s unbuckling her seat belt to run in. But as soon as she stands up Tim’s voice stops her.

“Wait Luce.” There’s a tenderness to his voice especially when he uses the new nickname that stops her more than the instruction itself. “I think we’re too late.”

Lucy looks down at the seat she just vacated to see its center now decorated with a dark red stain. A matching stain is present on the butt of the long yellow dress she’s wearing.

“Of course,” she spits as she tries to fight back tears that are already running down her cheeks.

“That a new dress?” Tim questions awkwardly, caught off guard by the sudden display of emotion.

Lucy lets out a choked laugh as Tim flounders to find something helpful to say.

“I ruined your truck, I ruined my dress and now I have to walk around the drug store with a giant stain on my ass,” Lucy sniffs.

“Hey Lucy, everything’s going to be okay.” He reaches across the console to put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll go in and get what you need.”

She stares at him surprised and unsure. The idea of him buying her tampons and pads and, she realizes, new underwear seems uncomfortably intimate.

“So, ah, what do you want?”

Because she has no desire to walk around the store with a giant blood stain on her butt she gives him her order, eyes down, face turning redder by the second.

He just nods and returns a few minutes later with three grocery bags and immediately hands them to her.

Inside she finds much more than she requested. The first bag contains two chocolate bars, two bags of candy, and two bottles of water. The second holds 6 different packages of assorted pads and tampons.

“How much blood do you think someone loses on their period,” Lucy teases.

Tim gives a small shrug. “I didn’t know which kind you wanted.”

Inside the third bag Lucy finds a bottle of Advil, a package of wet-wipes, a spray bottle of stain remover, a new package of underwear (simple white cotton), a pair of black tights and a box of black garbage bags.

“What are these for?” she asks holding up the garbage bags.

“They didn’t have any shirts so I thought we could make some head and arm holes and-“ he stops talking when he sees Lucy’s unimpressed expression. “I know it’s not ideal.”

“Good thing I already have that figured out,” she says holding up a plaid button up.

“Is that my shirt?” He had taken it off as soon as he got in the car, since like usual he had a henley underneath, and thrown it into the back. Lucy must of retrieved it while he was in the store.

“Please,” she says fixing him with those puppy dog eyes. “I promise I won’t get blood on it. Well, I’ll do my best. Please don’t make me wear a garbage bag.”

He laughs. “I forgot I had that. I guess I didn’t need these.” He takes the garbage bags from her and is about to throw them in the back when Lucy speaks up.

“Actually I’ll take one,” she says ripping the cardboard and freeing a single bag. She proceeds to rip a hole in the top of the garbage bag and pulls it over her legs like a skirt. Then she puts Tim’s plaid shirt on overtop. Tim is watching her with raised eyebrows.

“What? It’s just temporary. I promised I wouldn’t get blood on your shirt.” She puts everything she needs in her bag and goes into the bathroom to clean herself up. When she returns Tim is just finishing cleaning the blood off the passenger seat.

“I would have done that.”

“It was no trouble.” “Here spray some of this on your dress before the stain sets,” Tim offers as he hands her the stain remover.

Lucy does then drapes her dress over the backseat.

“Ready to go,” Tim asks.

Lucy nods and by 1pm they’re back on the road.

---

By 2pm they’re both hungry and decide to stop for lunch. The place they choose is a fast food joint connected to a gas station. It’s busy. Probably because it’s the only place to eat for miles around. While they wait in line to order, Lucy goes to use the bathroom, only to find another line just as long. She decides to try the gas station bathroom instead, telling Tim that she’ll be right back but if he gets to the front first he knows her order. He goes to argue but she’s already gone, which is probably a good thing since he has no rebuttal, considering it’s the truth.

A few minutes later Tim has their food: a veggie burger with extra pickles and fries for her and a burger and fries for him, but she still isn’t back. He wanders over to the gas station to find her standing in line at the register.

“Put the candy back Chen.”

“Make me,” she says shaking the bags as she holds them by her shoulders.

Tim reaches for them but Lucy moves to evade his grasp. “Too slow,” she teases.

“You’ve already had two pastries, one bag of candy, a chocolate bar and a frappa-cappa-crapacciuno or whatever.”

“It was a chai tea latte and you know it.”

“It was more sugar than anything and we still have more candy in the car. You’re going to give yourself diabetes.”

She shrugs. “It’s not a road trip without excessive amounts of junk food.”

“It’s not a road trip. It’s a commute home.”

“It’s whatever we make it,” she says as she taps her card to pay for the candy.

They find a state park a few minutes up the road and unpack their lunch at one of the picnic tables. They talk as they eat, familiar banter flying across the table. As they near the end of their food Lucy is animatedly telling a story about a recent arrest. She has a french fry in one hand and as she gestures, a little too aggressively, a glob of ketchup flies off the end of the fry and right into Tim’s face.

She sinks down a little in her seat and covers her mouth to try to suppress a laugh.

“Did you just throw ketchup at me Chen?” he glares as he slowly removes the offending condiment.

“Not on purpose,” she giggles.

“If you start a fight you better be prepared to finish it,” he says as he rips open a package of mustard and squirts it at her.

Although it has poor projectile power a small amount lands in Lucy’s hair. She looks back at him mouth wide. “That was on purpose. That’s assault. I’m calling the police.”

“We are the police,” Tim deadpans as he rips the top off another mustard package.

“You wouldn’t” Lucy warns as she opens a mayo.

Then words are abandoned as condiments fly. They go through 5 ketchup, 3 mustard, 2 mayo, 1 bbq sauce, 1 ranch dressing, 1 aioli and 1 pepper packet before they both surrender. In fact the only packets left untouched are the hot sauce and salt. Both their faces are covered in assorted condiments. Most that had been scooped off the picnic table and smeared directly onto their target when it became clear the packets could barely project their contents a foot. The only one that was truly an effective weapon was the pepper which successfully gave Tim a sneezing fit.

As they sit back down to finish the last bit of their lunch Lucy picks up a fry and runs it along Tim’s cheek then throws it in her mouth.

“Not bad,” she says as Tim makes a face of disgust.

When the last fries are gone they throw out their garbage, wipe down the picnic table, then turn their attention to themselves.

“It’s a good thing I bought these wipes,” Tim says as he passes one to Lucy.

She laughs as she takes it and begins to wash her face.

“Did I get it all?” she asks when she thinks she’s done. “Because you didn’t,” she adds as she reaches up to wipe the side of his mouth.

He’s startled at first then his expression morphs into something she can’t quite read but something that makes her linger just a little longer than strictly necessary. Then she steps away and climbs into the drivers seat and by 3pm they’re back on their way.

---

By 4pm Lucy’s in the middle of a seemingly endless monologue about the bachelor franchise when she looks over to realize that Tim is fast asleep. She would be insulted but instead she sees it as an opportunity. She starts to take every turn she can. Whenever she comes to an intersection she turns on to the smallest street. By the time Tim wakes up, about half an hour later (of course he would have is body trained to nap the ideal more than 20, less than 40 minutes), they are in the middle of nowhere. She waits until he’s fully awake then slams on the brakes.

“I’ve been shot. Where are we, Tim?” she demands in her best Tim Bradford voice. He looks out all the windows to see nothing but ranches then back at her, confusion clear on his face.

“Did you get us lost just so you could prove a point?” His tone an odd combination of annoyance and amusement.

“We’re not lost I’m taking the scenic route.”

“I’m pretty sure the scenic route is supposed to run along the ocean not through the desert in the middle of no where.”

“We’re not in the middle of no where we are North of Martinus Corner at the intersection of Cross Rd and and Lockwood Jolon Rd,” she brags.

“Great you know where we are. Do you know how to get us back onto the main road?”

“It’s not all about the destination, you know, It’s about the journey,” Lucy offers. “When’s the last time you did something just for the fun of it.”

“We go for a hike or a walk along the beach with Kojo every weekend.”

“I know I’m fun to be around,” she teases, “but that’s an errand, Tim, the dog needs exercise.”

“I see your point but what are we supposed to do in the middle of ranch land? You want to go cow tipping?”

“We won’t be in ranch land for long,” Lucy replies, but half an hour and at least twenty turns later they’re still surrounded by fields and livestock.

“Will you admit you’re lost now?” Tim asks.

Lucy sighs, “Fine, can you please google map how to get to Route 1”

“We were on 5.”

“5’s the freeway. 1’s the scenic route,” Lucy explains. “the one that runs along the ocean.”

Before Tim can bring up the app they’re emerging into a small city centre. As Lucy continues down the main street she excitedly points ahead.

“Let’s go bowling,” she says indicating the bowling alley sign.

“I thought you wanted to go to the ocean.”

“We can still take the scenic route home, after we go bowling.”

Tim sighs.

“Come on let’s have some fun, make some memories,” Lucy encourages.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer.”

Lucy shakes her head and happily pulls into the bowling alley parking lot.

Several minutes later they have their bowling shoes on and their names entered in the computer on lane 4. Tim goes first and immediately gets a strike.

“You want to put money on this game Chen?” he asks cockily.

“Lucky shot,” Lucy replies. “I’m not betting money but if you win I’ll let you pick the route home but if I win you can’t complain when we take the scenic route.

“Deal,” he says shaking her hand.

Lucy goes next and gets two gutter balls in a row. “Why didn’t we get the bumpers?”

“The bumpers are for kids.”

On her third throw she throws the bowl with two-hands after swinging it between her legs.

“Speaking of for kids,” Tim teases.

“Don’t argue with results,” she counters as her ball connects with the pins.

They continue going back and forth, Tim using the classic one-handed bowling throw and Lucy trying a different technique each time. She tries sitting down and pushing it down the lane, pulling out the ball slide meant for toddlers, standing backwards and throwing the ball between her legs but eventually settles on the two-handed granny throw.

By half-way through the game Tim’s score is double Lucy’s and he starts to get cocky. He throws with his eyes closed, on one-foot and after spinning in a circle 10 times.

3 quarters through the game the black lights come on and they laugh at each others teeth glowing in the dark. The disco lights and music follow. Then Lucy who had been giggling and joking around all game suddenly becomes serious.

“I have two more turns and I really want a strike,” she states. She has a couple spares on the board but strikes remain elusive. Tim on the other hand has three.

“Can I show you? he questions handing her a ball.

He initially tries to coach her through the throw but she isn’t catching on so he steps behind her, puts his hand over hers and leans into her back as he guides her through the motion. The ball knocks over all but one pin but Lucy almost misses it because she’s looking up at Tim. He lets go and steps back.

“You think you can do that on your own next turn?” he asks shaking the huskiness from his voice.

She nods. Tim bowls, then it’s the moment of truth as Lucy throws her ball imaging Tim’s arm along hers, guiding it. The bowl rolls straight down the alley where it connects with the pins and knocks them all down. STRIKE flashes on the computer screen as Lucy jumps for joy then right into Tim for a celebratory hug. He’s initially surprised but is able to catch her and himself before they fall over. He spins them around as she laughs and he’s suddenly really glad Lucy made him stop.

With that the game is over. Tim’s still ahead but the margin had narrowed. They return their bowling shoes and head out to the truck.

“Fine you win this time, we can go back to the interstate but I want a rematch. I’m thinking mini-golf or the arcade,” Lucy says as she pulls out of the parking lot.

“Nah, go to the 1,” Tim says as he starts to read the directions off his phone.

Lucy looks at him quizzically but doesn’t push her luck. By 6pm they’re driving along the ocean.

---

By 7pm, although it’s not that late, it’s already dark. That combined with her lack of sleep the night before is making Lucy sleepy. When she yawns for the third time in less than 20 minutes Tim suggests they switch drivers. Lucy happily obliges pulling into the next rest stop. During the day it would have a beautiful view of the ocean but now all one can see is darkness. The only evidence of the ocean’s presence being the rhythmic, crashing of waves against the base of the cliff below.

They pull into the abandoned lot; Lucy takes her time backing into a spot, mostly just to annoy Tim and they both get out, reflexively closing their doors behind them. As they pass each other Tim holds his hand out for the keys.

“I just left them in the ignition,” Lucy explains. Tim looks over to the truck then back to her a look of defeat on his face.

“Your doors lock automatically, don’t they?” Lucy asks rhetorically, “I fucked up.”

They try the doors just in case but sure enough they’re locked.

“Well it could be worse,” Tim offers much to Lucy’s surprise, “at least it’s not running.” “I’ll call Angela and see if I can convince her to grab the extra set of keys from my house and come meet us but its going to be a couple hours.”

Lucy nods. “Thank-you and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tim shrugs, “we’re making memories remember.” Then without another word we walks away from her as he hits a button on his phone and puts it to his ear. The conversation doesn’t last long. Angela obliges but insists that Tim now owes her one. He thinks she still owes him a couple from everything he did as her man of honour but decides now isn’t the time to bring that up. When he hangs up he finds Lucy has lowered the tailgate of his truck, where she now sits. She’s shivering, arms wrapped around herself, but she’s smiling as she looks up at the sky.

“You can see the stars here,” she explains hearing him approach, “away from the lights and smog of the city.”

Tim climbs up into the bed of his truck and removes a stack of old moving blankets from the storage box he keeps in the back.

“Angela’s on her way but in the meantime we should stay warm.” He wraps one around Lucy’s shoulders. Then lays the rest on the floor of the truck bed.

“Good thing I left these in after helping Tamara move last weekend.” He shimmies his way in-between two layers then taps the spot beside him, inviting Lucy to join. She climbs in beside him eager for more warmth. With the sun gone the temperature had dropped fast.

Lucy pulls up an app on her phone and hands it to Tim so he can identify constellations for them while her hands and arms stay hidden under the blankets. Then they lay down and look-up at the stars. Tim uses the app to find constellations, points them out to Lucy, then reads the story about them provided by the app. Meanwhile Lucy snuggles deeper and deeper into the blankets. Tim stops in the middle of the story he’s reading about the the swan constellation as the blankets are pulled off his torso.

"Stop hogging all the blankets,” he complains pulling them back.

“Sorry, I’m freezing,” she confesses.

He pauses for a second clearly debating something internally before opening his arm out to the side. “Then come closer,” he finally says.

She hesitates for a second before slowly moving to snuggle against his side. The possibility of warmth far outweighing any awkwardness she’s feeling. She rests her head on his chest. She can feel his heart racing to match her own and can’t help but smile to herself.

“Better?” he asks once she’s finished squirming around trying to maximize her view of the stars and the amount of body heat she’s receiving from him.

”You're comfier than a pillow,” she confirms, nodding.

Tim doesn’t respond just wraps his arm around her shoulders. He continues to point out constellations and read the stories in Lucy’s app.

“None of the constellations actually look like their name sakes,” Lucy says after a while.

“You have to use your imagination.”

“I could use my imagination to name my own constellations.”

He shrugs. “Go for it.”

She finds a cluster of stars that vaguely resembles a duck. She points it out to Tim then makes up a story about a duck that joined the LAPD and saved the city from a gang of geese. When she’s finished she turns to Tim,. “Your turn.”

He gives her his best ‘not happening’ look but he’s met with those pleading brown eyes that hold more power over him than he’ll ever admit and caves almost instantly.

He points out an X made of stars. “That is where the space pirates buried their treasure.” Lucy looks up at him expectantly. “The end,” he finishes.

“That’s your whole story? One sentence.”

“I’m not as creative as you.”

“Then tell a real story,” she says, “here I’ll go first.”

She points to a jumble of stars. “That is Caligula’s toy chest,” she says then proceeds to describe in great detail all the filthy, horrid things she had seen the day he taught her the DEAR method.

“Why would you tell me that?” he asks when she is done.

“Now you share my pain.”

Tim laughs and points at four stars arranged in a rectangle. “That is the phone that was used too much at work.” He spends his entire story essentially mocking her for always being on her phone. Lucy would be annoyed or insulted but the amount of detail he remembers about the completely benign things she has done is kind of sweet and a little exhilarating.

She next finds a ’surf board’ and tells the story of a weekend getaway with some collage friends that ended with a black eye, a broken board and a lot of great memories.

Tim follows suit finding a ‘football’ and telling the story of a particularly memorable championship game during his high school career. He’s half-way through his story when he interrupts himself. “You're crushing me,” he tells Lucy who is draped over his torso. “What are you even doing?” I can't breathe with you on me."

“I’m tucking in the blanket so our heat doesn’t escape,” she says as she pushes the edge of the blanket under Tim’s side along the length of his body. When she’s done she rolls off of him, cuddles back into his side then tucks the opposite blanket edge under herself.

When Tim finishes his story they continue to go back and forth, learning more and more about each other each turn. Lucy tells stories from the time she spent travelling and working odd jobs, from her time as a psych major and her time in the academy. Tim talks about his family, his time in the army, and his early years on the force and with Isabel.

He tells her about a colleague who despite being a great cop made the mistake of using his radio near an explosive and paid for it with his life. He is the reason Tim baby powder bombs every Rookie: so no other good officers will be lost because a critical piece of information was taught so dryly that it couldn’t possibly be recalled under pressure.

She tells him about her ring as she twirls it around her finger. About how she found it in her grandma’s dress-up chest when she was six and it immediately became her favourite item. How every time she played dress-up the ring was part of the costume, whether she was a princess or a ninja, a cat or a witch, a clown or a police officer. How unlike her parents, who always thought she’d follow their career paths, her grandma always told her she could be anything she wanted. How when her grandma passed away she had found the ring again as she helped her parents pack up her things. How she had started wearing it to feel closer to her. How as she looked at the ring day after day she heard her grandma’s voice in her head: “You can do anything you put your mind too,” “the sky’s the limit,” “do what makes you happy.” How that made her realize she was not where she wanted to be and led to her decision to quit her Master’s program. How her parents had chalked it up to grief and tried to use psychoanalysis to convince her to return. How that had pissed Lucy off and led to her applying to the LAPD. How she had continued to wear the ring as a reminder and motivator during her training. How much it had meant to her to have it returned. How now it not only symbolizes her grandma’s belief in her, but also Tim’s and her own. How it continues to give her strength.

As Lucy talks Tim rubs circles on her back as if connecting the stars that constitute Lucy’s ‘ring’ constellation.

Just as she finishes she excitedly points up. “Look a shooting star!”

“Make a wish,” Tim advises.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” She surprises herself by how quick and confident that comes out. She hadn’t even thought about it, but it is true. In this moment everything is perfect. She is no longer cold. She is warm and happy in her little burrito with Tim: wearing his shirt, listening to the ocean, surrounded by stars.

Lucy half hears Tim name a constellation “the best boot I ever trained” and start to tell a Coles notes version of their story but she’s already falling asleep.

She wakes up some time later to Tim shifting beside her.

“Don’t move,” she groans still half-asleep.“

“Ange is here Luce. It’s time to go home.”

“Am home,” she mumbles before falling back asleep.

Tim manages to free himself from Lucy and the blankets. He shuffles out of the back of the truck and walks around it to meet Angela who is just getting out of her car.

“Where have you been,” Tim asks.

“Driving.”

“I mean, what took you so long?”

“I thought you might be enjoying your alone time with Lucy more than you’d admit, so I didn’t rush.”

He wanted to argue but he couldn’t. “Thank-you for coming.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, when your baby refuses to sleep anywhere but a moving car a 4 hour drive is not as inconvenient as it sounds.”

As if to prove her point the infant starts wailing from inside the vehicle.

Before Angela can move Tim’s opening her car door and removing his god child from the car seat. He holds the baby to his chest and starts rocking him. As the baby continues to scream and Tim continues to rock, sway and bounce, Lucy emerges from behind Tim’s truck seemingly woken by the crying.

“There’s my favourite little guy,” she coos as she approaches. “You’ve gotten so big. Next time I see you you’ll be taller than your Uncle Tim,” she continues as she rubs the baby’s back. Despite all the attention the baby continues to fuss.

“He’s hungry,” Angela explains. “Give him this,” she continues handing him a full bottle, “I pumped on the way here.”

“You pumped while driving?”

“It’s called multitasking.”

Tim takes the bottle and offers it to the baby who immediately begins suckling. While the baby drinks Lucy goes back to Tim’s truck and grabs some blankets. She gives one to Angela, drapes another over Tim and the little boy and wraps herself in the last.

Over the next half an hour Tim and Lucy work together to feed, burp, and change the baby before putting him back in his carseat, all while his mother watches with a very amused expression. When he’s buckled in they say their goodbyes, thank Angela again, then head back to Tim’s truck, which is now unlocked.

By 10pm they are back on the road. They spend the rest of the drive cooing over baby Evers and talking about their own theoretical future kids. While conveniently avoiding any mention of theoretical future spouses or co-parents.

By midnight Lucy is just getting home. As she walks through the door she sees Jackson on the couch watching TV.

“Why are you so late?” he asks turning towards her.

“Long story.”

“Is that Tim’s shirt?”

“Longer story.”

“Aha,” Jackson says giving her a knowing look.

She just rolls her eyes and goes to get ready for bed. She falls asleep almost immediately and dreams of sweets and stars, babies and bowling and a life with Tim.

#chenfordficweek2021 #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #the rookie

53 notes · View notes

jui-imouto-chan · 4 years ago

Text

Part 9

Previous | Next

@multishipper-trash

I switched to calling him Shoyo since everyone except Kageyama calls him that but I’ll probably go back to Hinata in a different part (also bc Natsu is technically a Hinata so)

•

“A letter!!” Natsu announced from the door, her feet slapping against the wood of the stairs as she made her way to Shoyo’s room. “Nii-chan!!

“Coming!”

Natsu bounced on her heels impateintly, listening to the rustle of Shoyo’s sheets. Shoyo yelped and then began hissing something she couldn’t quite make out, and then after a few minutes of relative quiet, Tobio and Shoyo shouted at each other before Tobio stormed out, barging past her without patting her head like usual. Natsu wondered if he had a fever, since his face was the color of steamed crab.

Huh, so did Shoyo. Maybe they were both sick?

“Nii-chan.” She proffered the letter, shifting her weight.

Shoyo shook his head, his flush lightening enough that it only stained his cheeks. “Thanks, Natsu,” he said, smiling as he ruffled her hair. She grinned up at him and turned on her heel, padding over to the kitchen to rattle off what she learned in school the day prior to their mom.

The letter Shoyo held was from the “Kenma” that had made a contract with him the month before, with a simple wax seal of a cat with headphones on. The envelope was crisp and pristine, although the penmanship of the address lines was constantly fluctuating between beautiful and scribbly.

Shoyo glanced around, making sure Kageyama wasn’t nearby, then retreated into his bedroom, ignoring the tangle of sheets that had collapsed to the floor during the earlier...incident... and instead settling into his desk.

‘Hello, Shoyo.

There’s more funding in the envelope inside the one you pulled this out from. Have fun with it, I guess.

I was wondering if you want to meet up with me at some point. I’ll leave my contact stuff at the bottom of this letter... Leave the scary guy you who follows you around at home please. I don’t want to get murdered.

Anyway. We can discuss the details for the date meet and greet when we meet up over text, if you want to actually do that.

Kenma.

XXX-XXX-XXXX’

Shoyo found the wad of bills and decided that he’d make sure ‘Kenma’ would let him pay for food and stuff for when they met up, guilt gnawing at him for taking charity. It wasn’t like he wasn’t giving anything for it, but he didn’t actually feel any difference in his mana supply—not that he could even actually tell that there was mana in him. Maybe the contracts just weren’t taking as much as he thought they would be? —Like everyone taking five yen when he has a billion yen: pretty much negligible. (—Thank you Tsukishima for using that word. Hinata just hoped he wouldn’t use it to describe his test score increases relative to his grade again.)

Shoyo snagged his phone off the nightstand (pointedly ignoring Kageyama’s beside it), tossing himself onto his mattress and kicking his feet as he sent a greeting.

•

Kuroo had himself draped over Kenma’s bed, scrolling idly through messages Lev sent to their groupchat and rolling his eyes. He glanced over at the partial-blonde, who was so close to the TV, Kuroo wondered if he’d eventually pass through the screen and actually enter the game.

Beside his head, Kenma’s phone flashed and pinged, and he’d never seen Kenma move so fast. The game was paused and Kenma was lain beside Kuroo in an instant, his eyes flicking across the screen with overwhelming intensity.

“Did a preorder drop or something?”

Kenma completely ignored him. Kuroo tried to quell his urge to annoy his best friend with dramatics.

The shorter spent five minutes reading whatever message he had received, probably rereading it multiple times if Kuroo were to go off the fact that Kenma hadn’t scrolled.

Finally, after an agonizing period of tense silence, Kenma’s thumbs got to work, typing and retyping words. Kenma mouthed the sentences and scrunched his nose periodically, probably noticing syntax errors.

It was a little bizarre, since Kenma didn’t usually care about what he wrote or how he wrote it. Kuroo once had to read the words “skin $100 said no moth,” with his own eyes, and the message still sometimes haunts him. (Kenma meant to type, “My mother said no to buying the $100 skin,” but didn’t correct himself afterward.)

“Do I add a ‘please’ when saying where to meet me or is that desperate?”

“Do you actually want my opinion or are you talking to yourself?”

Kuroo sighed as Kenma continued his pondering, muttering about lines from a few otome games. Kuroo leaned over and scanned the message, as neither of them had ever been particular about privacy, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

“Hey,” Kenma snapped, falling out of his deliberations. He rolled over and away, which led to him slipping to the floor.

Kuroo burst into cackles, only catching his breath after Kenma tossed a remote at his head. “W... Who’s got ya all riled u-up?” he tried to inquire, panting.

“None of your business.”

“Is ‘Shoyo’ a special friend I should know about?” Kuroo waggled his eyes, dodging an amiibo that sailed through the air and left a noticeable dent in Kenma’s wall.

“N-No.”

It was quite clear that Kuroo did not believe him one bit, his Hyena-like laughter rippling through the air. “You’re lying—your ears are red! Your blushing so hard!”

“Shut up!” Kenma hid under the covers at the foot of the bed, trying to look back at his phone. Kuroo, deciding that he was fine with dying there, poked at Kenma’s head, seeking amusement from teasing the half-blonde.

“Huh?” Kenma was stock-still, not even moving when Kuroo prodded at him. “Kenma, you okay? Are you dead?” The blankets were raised, Kuroo peering upside-down at his friend.

Dead seemed like an understatement—after all, at least then you would see the life draining out of the body. No, Kenma appeared as though his soul was sucked out with a vacuum and his body sat empty while his spirit struggled against the vacuum bag.

Kuroo snatched Kenma’s phone out of his hands, his friend not twitching or reacting at all. The only indication that Kenma was still existent was the slow paling of his skin.

“What’s got you so.... Oh. Well... Yep, that’ll do it.”

The last line of his message, which he probably was intending to delete—or at least rewrite—simply read, ‘I look forward to our date.’

•

“He won’t think that you wanted it to be a date if I come,” Kuroo explained as he shoved Kenma toward the cafe, still quite sympathetic of his poor friend’s pain. Kenma had his hood pulled up and kinda seemed tempted to drift into traffic, so Kuroo just kept a better hold of his shoulders as he drove him forward.

“Maybe he’ll take pity on me and stab me with a teaspoon.”

“Maybe you’ll be less morbid, how about that?”

“We both know that’s very unlikely.” Kenma managed to open the door before Kuroo flattened him against it.

“True,” he sighed. “So, you see him?”

Kenma glanced around, fingertips rubbing against his nails within his pockets as he sought out Shoyo.

After a moment of peering around, he spotted sunrise eyes and a mane of flame, as well as the scent of full, unfettered magic wafting through the air.

“There,” Kenma breathed as Kuroo straightened, eyes fixating on the summoner. Kuroo whistled to himself.

“I’m counting myself lucky that you’re not territorial.”

Kenma squinted at his best friend, though he let his withering glare fall exasperatedly. “I’m getting there.”

Kuroo’s smile grew with mischief. “Too late.” His tongue slipped across his upper lip.

Across the cafe, Shoyo shivered, glancing around and catching their predatory gazes. Unlike prey, his eyes didn’t waver, and their excitement only grew.

•••

••Part 9 of (?)••

This got a little longer than usual—I got carried away bc I love writing disaster Kenma 😂 and also Natsu is super adorable so I’m including her more 💖💖

•• Send Asks for more! Feel free to ask about characters and send Headcanons! Or if u wanna just talk Haikyuu/ships, I’m good with that too! :) and for other parts, search the “summoner au” tag on my blog and you’ll find em!••

Previous | Next

#kenma/hinata #kenhina #kozume kenma #haikyuu!#haikyu #hq #hinata shoyo/everyone #hinata harem #hinaharem #kagehina #kageyama tobio #kuroo tetsuroo #kuro tetsuro #kuroohina #kurohina

91 notes · View notes

entryno17 · 4 years ago

Note

For ask game Gaster

Its inevitable

yeah uh. this entire post should probably be under a read more. sorry </3

favorite thing about them -

personally, gaster was what elevated my love for undertale into full blown infatuation. somehow, he manages to appeal to literally every stupid thing that i love. he’s absolutely my favorite character in the game that’s not a character in the game. (papyrus is my favorite character, but gaster is my favorite non-character, you see.) i’ve basically always had a fascination for strange things in technology, starting at age 4 when i played my first video game. with access to action replay and all kinds of weird cheat codes, i found myself running into tons of weird glitches and oddities. they were scary, but they were incredible to me. they shattered the veil of immersion and revealed the game’s true nature: it wasn’t magic, it wasn’t real; it was lines of codes strung together. but that didn’t disappoint me—actually, it thrilled me. my interest grew further after discovering video game creepypasta (at a far-too-young age of course lol.) that stuff horrified me, the idea that something organic could be born from lines of code, whether it was an evil murder ghost or just a strange glitch—something about the concept just captured my imagination like nothing else. i’m still in love with the idea; i’m always reading about computer viruses, artificial intelligence, the mechanics of games and programs; anything that captures the strange wonders of technology. unused content in video games is another love of mine because of the unique insight it gives on the development of games. this interest has led me to learn and do so much, from writing simple code and romhacks to inspiring me to develop a game of my own. i don’t think i can explain just how much i love this stuff. SO. imagine how i felt when a certain game (that i already adored) had an entire character literally stuck in the game’s data both in and out of its universe, at the time only accessible through datamining and file editing. even though my first fixation on undertale died out in 2016, gaster has occupied a special place in my mind for all this time. but now that i’m once again obsessed with the game, i think he just is my entire mind at this point? deltarune’s next chapters cannot come out soon enough i'm going insane here

least favorite thing about them - the fact that he managed to dissolve my brain into goo. also that there’s so little content of him in game of course </3

favorite line - wow i get to pick something from his like 3 lines of dialogue!! anyway it’s the quote in my blog’s description, “I LOOK FORWARD / TO CREATING / A NEW FUTURE / WITH YOU.” it’s just... so ominous and exciting. and he’s talking to YOU!

brOTP - alphys probably? they might seem really different from each other at first glance but at heart they’re both just kinda dorky and weird. in my personal pre-core headcanon universe they’re really close—alphys and sans were both his assistants and they were all best buddies basically. alphys has always been really insecure but i think gaster would be good at reassuring her (one thing sans would probably absolutely suck at,) they’d both just be really positive presences in each others life and that idea makes me happy.

OH JEVIL TOO, this would be post-core gaster so like. man i don’t even know. they’d both just be fucking insane together and i love that

OTP - still got nothing. honestly, i don’t ship in general unless there’s really good reason to?? kingdings is kinda cute though, mostly because the name is fucking perfect and amazing it makes me cackle. OH MY GOD i forgot, i saw gaster x jevil referred to as jeviled eggs and just. why are these ship names so fucking good i can’t stand it nOTP - grillster I’M SORRY I JUST DON’T GET IT. no hate at all towards people who like it though, it just doesn’t interest me at all. also sanster because i personally believe gaster is related to him so like....... yeah no. (AND EVEN IF HE WASN’T I’D STILL HATE IT TBH. SRRY.)

random headcanon - gaster’s body is made from coagulated black goop of unknown origin. there could be a skeleton under there, but there’s probably not much of it left, if there is one at all. he has a white turtleneck, but only the neck part. his sweater fused into his body at some point—it’s literally just stuck there and he can’t do anything about it. he doesn’t have legs; the definition of his body terminates just below where his ribcage would be, and everything beyond there is an amorphous pile of goo. he can manifest arms (for hugs), but he usually floats his hands around since it’s easier. when he’s stressed or excited, his body melts a bit. he slithers on the ground like a slug, though he actually can move unnervingly fast? he may or may not leave traces of goo everywhere he goes. it’s horrible.

unpopular opinion - alright this is my hottest take in the entire undertale fandom: dadster is GARBAGE. grandpaster is clearly superior. i KNOW you fuckers just want to draw gaster as a hot dad BUT HE’S AN OLD SLIMY PILE OF BONES. YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND. (YOU COULD JUST DRAW HIM AS A SEXY OLD SLIMY PILE OF BONES. IF YOU WEREN'T ALL COWARDS.)

song i associate with them - umm i can’t actually think of anything. maybe tout petit moineau - igorrr??? mostly putting it here bc it’s just one of my favorite songs like ever LMAO. it’s just very haunting, and the absolute chaos it further falls into with each passing moment is so incredible.

maybe also database batadase - gangpol und mit??? this association is even MORE nonexistent but fuck you i can do whatever i want. i associate gaster with synthesized voices in general and i really like this song. yeah that’s it.

favorite picture of them - GASTER ON THE UNDERTALE VINYL SET.

THIS IS THE ONLY OFFICIAL GASTER ART ASIDE FROM HIS SPRITE AND HE’S FUCKING ADORABLE

i still can’t believe i actually own this thing LMAO. as far as i know, he’s only on the cover if you preordered on the day of undertale’s anniversary which i happened to do. although the second set of prints haven’t been shipped yet??—he’s been removed from the boxart on fangamer’s website so there’s honestly a fair chance that he’s not going to be on those copies at all... if so, jesus christ i’m lucky. i can sleep so much more comfortably knowing that he is haunting my room.

#genius11rare #SURVEY PROGRAM #YEAH I KINDA. PUT WAY TOO MUCH INTO THIS ONE. but what did you all expect honestly.

39 notes · View notes

asteroiideae · 3 years ago

Text

okay, so I don’t make these kinds of posts often because tbh I’m a little lazy and very tired like 24/7 lmao but I’ve been seeing a lot of Pride reading lists hit my dash (and they’re excellent, and I save them all!) buuuut reading books is still a roadblock I’m struggling to mentally overcome -- and audiobooks are great, but they take 84 years (sometimes literally???) to get through. so! I thought I’d share a (very tiny) list of the queer manga I’ve read this year that you might enjoy for Pride, with some descriptions/trigger warnings/thoughts to go with them. so here we go in no particular order other than where they sit on my bookshelf:

What Did You Eat Yesterday? by Fumi Yoshinaga

okay so I know I go on about this manga at literally every presented opportunity, but I honestly just can’t help myself??? as a thirty-something queer adult, I really love the quiet maturity of this relationship between Shiro and Kenji; especially when it’s highlighted by references to shenanigans of their youth, and the ways in which they are still growing as both individuals and a couple. I’ve only read the first six volumes but I’m OBSESSED.

Status: Ongoing (17 volumes; 15 translated) Summary: Shiro and Kenji are an established adult couple with separate careers and interests, whose relationship is depicted over the meals cooked for them by Shiro. This doesn’t have an overarching plot, which might be off-putting for some readers; each chapter can be compared to a fanfic one-shot, usually containing it’s own tiny storyline or theme. It’s literally just domestic moments and meals shared between these men. Warnings: While I didn’t personally have a problem with this, younger readers might find some of the dated terms offensive. If you’ve spent any time with older queer folks (older as in 45-50+) this won’t be anything you aren’t used to, but if your experience of queer folx skews younger or online, you might get taken by surprise. There’s also some internalized homophobia; and by some I mean quite a bit. Shiro’s personal arc (at least in the first six volumes) heavily revolves around how much he closets himself and tries desperately to pass as “normal” in Japanese business culture.

Boys Run The Riot by Keito Gaku

holy shit holy shit holy SHIT. this story is so good??? so VERY good??? I was a little cautious, and a little bit uninterested in a story about teens (only because I’m in my thirties and crave more adult representation,) but I was VERY WRONG to be. Boys Run The Riot is beautifully drawn, beautifully written, and probably my favorite work on this list. the mangaka is also trans so the inherent understanding and nuance of our protagonist’s experience is really lovely. Also featuring a fantastic brotp between a trans boy and his new himbo bestie; no seriously if you want a story about a trans boy getting to have good broships with other boys his own age I CANNOT stress this enough. Volume two is releasing next month; I have it preordered. I’m laying on my floor wishing for time to hurry the fuck up. I need more of this smol angry trans boy and his big soft himbo bff. PLS. Status: Ongoing (4 volumes published; 2 translated) Summary: Ryo Watari is a second year high school student who is trans and struggling to feel comfortable with his very rigidly structured life at school, at home, and among his friends (to whom he is not out.) By chance he meets Jin Sato, a cis boy who also feels outcast (often judged for his appearance without any deeper thought.) When Ryo comes out to Jin in a state of frustration, Jin accepts who Ryo is and makes an offer -- why not start a fashion line that subverts all the expectations that have been put on them both; why not express themselves even when they’ve been told they shouldn’t. Warnings: Ryo is struggling with gender dysphoria, and it is written by someone who has probably experienced it, so it might be a little real for any trans folks who deal with that. Also, while neither the narrative nor Jin misgender Ryo (at least, not once he expresses to Jin that he is a man), Ryo is not out to anyone else and so he frequently is misgendered at school and we see how badly that impacts him and the way he views himself and processes his emotions. Ryo spends a lot of time being angry and trying to swallow it down, and that can be very raw to witness at times. There is also a depiction of unsafe binding (though the mangaka has an immediate note about binding safety, and goes further in-depth at the back of the manga.)

Our Dining Table by Mita Ori

okay, so I was a bit on the fence about whether or not I wanted to include this as a rec, but I decided that it might actually been what someone wants or needs, so here it is! while I really enjoyed this concept, and I’m always a sucker for found family stories (let me tell you I’m queer without telling you I’m queer, much?) it feels like this story is a bit rushed at times, and the romantic relationship between our protagonists is very blink and you’ll miss it. I don’t even want to call it subtle so much as it is just not remotely the focus of the story so it’s a little startling when it happens. but! if you’re looking for a story about adults processing grief and trauma together, and learning how to care for another person (and as a result, learning how to care for themselves,) this is a nice read that isn’t too heavy! Status: Complete (one volume) Summary: Yutaka is a salaryman whose past experiences prevent him from reaching out to others, even through something so simple as sharing a meal. Despite this is REALLY loves to cook, and wishes he had a reason to do it more often. Then he meets Minoru, and his muuuuuch younger brother Tane (it’s like a 17 year age gap between the brothers?) and finds himself teaching them how to cook, and overcoming his fear of eating in front of others. Warnings: Good news, there’s no overt homophobia in this story! Bad news, the other trauma makes up for it! We have a lot of trauma surrounding parental death, childhood bullying, and adoption; in addition to an actual fear of eating in front of others.

Our Dreams at Dusk / Shimanami Tasogare by Yuhki Kamatani

this is the first manga series I collected, and I’m still very pleased about that. the art is ABSOLUTELY stunning? the use of visual imagery and surreal analogies to explain queerness is fucking on POINT. I cried so hard during a couple of these volumes I developed a migraine. I only have one piece of critique on the whole thing (addressed in the warnings,) and I intend to do another re-read when I’m ready for the catharsis of sobbing into my pillow again. Like Boys Run The Riot, Our Dreams at Dusk is drawn and written by a member of the queer community (a non-binary mangaka, this time,) and as a result it hits pretty fucking close to home in a lot of ways. while I really love this series it’s super not for the faint of heart, you WILL come out of this reading experience with some things to unpack. Status: Completed (4 volumes; 4 translated) Summary: We mostly follow Tasuku Kaname, as he is outted at school by a classmate as being homosexual, and his initial despair and subsequent journey of acceptance. In this process, Tasuku finds himself at a drop-in center, which seems to primarily function as a safe space for queer people; we meet several lesbians, an elderly gay man, a trans character, and a young character who isn’t ready for any kind of label because they are still ??? about themselves and their identity. Each of these “secondary” characters is given room to breathe and to work through difficulties of their own while Tasuku watches and learns that even though life is hard sometimes, there’s beauty to be found in one’s own strength. Warnings: hoooo boy; well there’s all kinds of homophobia and transphobia; a character is outted against their will (multiple times), there’s some really insidious transphobia covered by “concern”, there’s internalized homophobia everywhere, and a very complicated asexual character whose presentation left me (as an ace) with super mixed feelings and a lot of frustration (though I wouldn’t call it bad necessarily; just wanted to put that out there for my fellow asexual folks.) If you have read (or go on to read!) any of these, please let me know! I’d love to chat about the stories, and hear your thoughts on them -- because we’re a broad/diverse community and our own experiences shape us differently and give us different insights. <3 ANYWAY, for those of you who read this monstrous self-indulgent post, thank you! Feel free to add any queer manga you’ve been reading below - I’m always on the hunt for more recs!

#happy pride #manga recs #gay representation #queer representation #trans characters #asexual characters #gay characters #everything in-between tbh

9 notes · View notes

cookinguptales · 5 years ago

Text

You know, I wasn’t going to write about this, but I just got the most insulting message about all this — so screw it, here I go:

I talk a lot about accessibility problems in daily life, but not typically about the unmitigated hell that is air travel. I have been insulted, touched without my permission, accused of faking, asked intrusive medical questions, gotten homophobic lectures from attendants I couldn’t get away from, been instructed to walk multiple times — and two of my personal wheelchairs have been broken.

All that said, the worst service I have received in my life has been from American Airlines. They consistently screw me over. They “forget” to preboard me. They “forget” to bring me a wheelchair. Heck, once I requested a bathroom break and I came out to find my wheelchair assistant gone. I had to sit there in the Cincinnati airport alone, frantically TWEETING AT THE AIRPORT, until a gate attendant took pity on me and took me down to baggage herself.

But if you really want to know how bad flying with them is, let me describe my experience flying with them a week and a half ago for a work trip. (In other words, I was not allowed to choose my airline.)

I arrived at the Philadelphia airport. I asked for assistance several times and was told to sit down in a waiting area and someone would be by shortly. I sat there for 45 minutes, at which point the person who told me that came by and it became immediately apparent that they’d forgotten about me. 20 minutes later, I finally got my wheelchair. In the end, I almost missed my plane.

The attendant, when he came, did not introduce himself or really talk to me at all. When we got to security, he refused to touch my belongings (attendants need to put our belongings on the conveyor because, y’know, we can’t get up there) and demanded I get up and do it myself, something I’ve literally never encountered before. In the end, he wheeled me over to the belt and made me strain to put my things on it because he was acting like my belongings were diseased.

When he rolled me up to the scanners, he did not ask me about my ability to walk, just demanded I get up. I requested a non-metal cane (because my own had been put on the belt) and he got very huffy about it, but another TSA agent heard me and gave it to me. After I finally got through the scanner, he did not bring the wheelchair over to me so I could sit in it, and I was forced to walk across the room to him. Yeah, it hurt.

I was handed off to like… six different attendants throughout the course of my trip to the terminal. At one point, I was forced to walk to get onto a shuttle bus. The wheelchair was not loaded on with me. When we arrived, there was no wheelchair waiting. I was told to wait on the bus — but then the driver started pulling away with me trapped on the bus. The driver was behind glass so I had to literally bang on the windows of the bus so someone would notice and stop the bus. Instead of bringing the wheelchair to me, I was expected to climb off the bus, walk inside, and get a new one. Wow, accessibility.

I finally had to demand a bathroom break because no one asked me if I needed to eat/drink/pee and I’d had to hold it for two hours at this point. I was told to walk to the bathroom. After I refused, more huffing, but someone got a wheelchair to walk me over.

FINALLY, TIME TO BOARD! Psych, I got outside, was told it was a tarmac boarding (something that had not been told to me ahead of time) and that if I’d wanted assistance, I should have preordered an aisle chair, something that’s typically only necessary to request if you’ll need a wheelchair onboard. I have never had to request one and, again, didn’t know it was a tarmac boarding, so I didn’t request it. I was repeatedly asked if I could walk “at all” and if I was sure I couldn’t just walk up. At this point, I was so frustrated that I literally started to cry. In public. They finally took me up.

Note: this was the ramp I’d been expected to walk up. As I was hobbling through the section too thin for the wheelchair, the woman grabbed my cane to “guide” me. I almost fell down.

When I got to Cincinnati, my tweets had apparently been heard. The manager of Prospect, the company AA uses for wheelchair assistance, was waiting for me. He was very nice! He gave me his card! The attendant told me to ask for him by name! I was not happy, but somewhat pacified.

I get to CVG three days later to go home. There is no wheelchair desk at check-in. I see another woman in a wheelchair, so I ask where she got it. Her daughter “found it”, and the woman had already missed her flight because she hadn’t been able to find assistance in time. I talked to two other women who just started walking despite the pain they were in.

I finally figure out where to request a wheelchair. A dedicated desk? No. A passing employee? No. I was supposed to stand in the check-in line. I got upset, so someone at another airline suggested I just cut the line. That was what I had to do, and I felt like a dick.

This line, in fact:

Waited, waited. Finally got a wheelchair. It was not the man I’d been told to request. Whatever. He was nicer than the man at PHL, but I still had to go through a genital pat-down at TSA. (As in, “please spread your legs wider for me”.) Yeah, that happens almost every time when you’re disabled. Fun times. Once I showed signs of being upset and they made me do it twice, without any kind of support to hold me up. Note: I am a sexual abuse survivor.

Finally get to the gate and the attendant leaves. I am in full view of the agent desk. It starts getting close to boarding and no attendant in sight, despite me specifically telling them I’d need help boarding. I got another passenger to go up to them and ask them for help. I was told an attendant would be coming soon. It came time to board, and I was left across the room. I literally started shouting across the room for help. The gate agent looked me in the eye and told me that she wasn’t ignoring me, that I’d be preboarded. SPOILERS: I wasn’t preboarded.

This meant that when I finally got down to the entrance of the plane, I had two options. I could go wait in the line that forms in the aisle while people are putting their baggage up. This is very painful for me, so instead I waited at the door for the people in front of me to sit down. A large line formed behind me because they still kept calling groups to board and again, I felt like a dick. I got to cry in public again.

Boarding in CVG, I didn’t have to do a tarmac boarding, but I still had to disembark that way in PHL. This time, the flight attendants called ahead to make sure I’d have an aisle chair. Those are super fun, by the way, you’re strapped in like Hannibal Lecter and wheeled backwards. :’)

I demanded a bathroom break once we got off. Note: I say “demanded” because no one ever freaking asked because god forbid they treat you like a human. You’re usually expected to just sit there at the gate for a while until a new attendant can take you to baggage, but I’ve taken to asking if they can leave me over by the bathroom instead because I’ve almost wet myself. (I often cannot get to the toilet on the plane.) So anyway, I was taken to a companion restroom. The door didn’t close all the way. Yeah, it was completely broken. This wasn’t a stall. It was a COMPANION RESTROOM WITH A DOOR. If the door doesn’t close, the entire terminal can see in. Instead of taking me to another stall, the attendant just “stood guard” outside the door. So that was super-fun and not nerve-wracking at all.

The attendant then proceeded to get lost in the airport and didn’t believe me when I told her the right way to go. It’s not like I’ve ever flown out of my own home city before or anything, wow.

Now, this was worse than usual. I often have problems with all airlines (Delta was the one that kept smashing up wheelchairs, shoutout) but American is just By Far the worst. I usually fly Southwest because I’ve had far fewer problems with them at PHL (and I don’t have to pay extra for a seat that’s accessible for my needs) but sometimes AA is the only airline that’ll take you where you need to go.

I make this post for two reasons. Number one, I have to fly American again in about a week (again, I did not choose this) and I’m almost sick with worry. I was so stressed out and pained after the last trip that I came home, took very strong painkillers, and collapsed for like a day.

The other reason is that AA finally got back to me about my complaints from last week. They accused me of not asking for assistance ahead of time (I did; I even talked face-to-face with a manager to order accommodations) and snottily told me that I could have asked the gate agent for assistance. So number one, they only answered one of the MANY issues I had. Number two, they implied it was all my fault — despite me doing everything I was supposed to do. Number three, despite the many broken accessible areas, despite the poor treatment by employees, they still hold firm to this “you need to order things ahead of time or you’re screwed” line.

So I ask you. What if you don’t know those policies? What if you’re a child or a first-time flyer? What if you have a short-term injury and aren’t used to this? What if, like that woman in the wheelchair who missed her flight, you’re elderly and ESL and deeply confused?

The pain I am put through, the embarrassment and dehumanization and physical strain, is awful when I fly. To be blamed for it is worse. But the worst knowledge of all is that I am privileged. I am white. I am young enough to know how to complain on social media. I know my rights. I know to leave several hours in case I am mistreated. Like that old woman, like the women I saw walking to their gates, there are so many people who are not in that position. They will be victimized.

A manager approached me at CVG to apologize as I landed. No one will apologize to those women. They will be victimized. It’s not right how disabled people are treated at airports, and frankly, it’s not legal. But they know that our voices are not listened to and so they know that they can get away with it. Do you know how AA found me from my angry tweets? All they had to do was look at the DM history. I’ve sent them so many complaints over the years. They haven’t changed. They don’t care.

And as much as my body hurts after experiences like that, my heart hurts more. I’m so tired of people not caring.

I know this is a long post, but they messed so many things up that it had to be long to list them all. Please feel free to share this post -- or even better, let American Airlines know what you think about it. God knows they didn’t listen to me.

#this is a long post but they did a lot of things wrong!!!#ableism #disability #air travel #american airlines #long post #please this one is really important to me

6K notes · View notes

breakingsomething · 4 years ago

Text

Dawn Station - Pilot

Basic summary: Video game developer Jack Mcloughlin is finally releasing a new game after a ten year hiatus.

Content warnings: Murder, dismemberment, body horror

It comes as a shock to everyone, including you, when Jack Mcloughlin announces the release of a new game at the start of the second week of October.

There are several reasons why this is such a big deal. One: Jack Mcloughlin has been making games since he was twenty seven, and has released only five of them in the thirty years he's been doing it. Two: Jack Mcloughlin is world renowned for his fantastic horror games, all done in wildly different styles, but still notably his own. Three: Jack Mcloughlin has not, up til now, so much as mentioned working on a new game. The only social media site he's fully active on is Twitter - which you check regularly for any updates - and before the release of his last game, Ehrmann Lab, he had left a series of cryptic clues for two months leading up to the announcement. Those had been probably the most fun two months you'd ever had in your life, and even helped you make new friends. But this time around, there is no warning. The trailer is dropped at Purina Expo, one of the biggest American gaming conventions of the year. You were incredibly lucky to be able to snag tickets. Usually, this convention is where the hottest games that would be coming out the following year would be announced, trailers would be played, and developers would discuss - so everyone there on October 10th is shocked to not only be the first to see the trailer, but to hear from the man himself. Jack Mcloughlin takes the stage, gleefully announcing the release of Dawn Station on October 31st this year.

Now, the release of a new game from Septic Games - Mcloughlin's own software company, which he founded after his second game's release - is a big enough deal. But this… this is something else. Mcloughlin explains it before the reveal of the trailer, and you listen with great excitement.

"Dawn Station," says the man, practically bouncing across the stage with glee and shouting into his mic with a hoarse Irish accent. "is a feat of modern gaming. Now, I understand that when you play games, it can get boring to replay them later on after you've finished, because - well, you know how it goes! You know all the twists and turns, all the jumpscares, all the fights, all the spooks. But what if I told you that there was a way you could play where things were different each time?"

Behind the man, on a large screen, an image comes up. This is the first promo image for the new game to be shown to the people. The image is of a tilted hallway in what looks like a complex, broken down space station, overgrown with unusual plants that glow and spark. In the centre of the image is an astronaut. His helmet is on the floor, blood soaked. His face is half in shadow. All that can be seen is curly olive hair and neon green eyes - two on his face, and one embedded in his neck. The suit itself is torn, ripped open with a mouth and a dripping tongue where the being's stomach should be. A torch is on the ground behind him, attempting to cast light on the room. The words "Dawn Station" come up in solid, bright green font next to the being's face.

"This is Dawn Station!" cries the developer, over the many excited murmurs of the crowd. "The first ever virtual reality game with a fully developed artificial intelligence antagonist! An antagonist who learns from the players movements and choices, who grows and changes based off of what you do. You control the game, now more than ever! He's clever, he's learning, he knows where you are, and his objective is to kill the player - introducing... Alien X, otherwise known as… the Anti!"

Everyone cheers. Mcloughlin steps aside, a beam splitting his pale face, and allows the room to darken, and the trailer to play.

You're in awe. The trailer shows that you play as a character named Drew Oliver, an astronaut in their mid twenties who's aboard the Dawn Space Station, which has fallen to the planet you seemed to have been monitoring - the Othohiri 5RM. The game seems to revolve around attempting to explore the little bits of the planet that you can while repairing the ship and dealing with your descent into madness, all the while being chased down by the Alien X, a shapeshifting monstrosity who's eager to end your life before you can finish your goals. After watching it… well, everyone is absolutely blown away, especially you. This is unlike anything Mcloughlin had ever produced, especially to this scale. It's no wonder he hadn't produced a game in ten years if this was what he had been working on. You're practically vibrating with excitement at the breathtakingly beautiful scenery and realistic yet perfectly stylistic graphics, and the 8D sound design that seems to echo from all around you. It's incredible. The second you get back to your hotel room that night, you're one of the first to preorder the game.

Your week at the convention ends, and you go back home, counting down the days to the game's release. However, even more exciting things are happening. On Twitter, a few of your favourite youtubers are acting rather cryptic. KrisDoesGAMEZ and rrroadblock, two streamers you like, retweet Mcloughlin's announcement tweet with eye emojis and promises of the game being good. DUSSST, visualthursday and BroAverage make their own posts about it. PeachCheerio and TheSkinnerr upload short update videos promising exciting things to come.

On October 15th, it happens - ten youtubers each upload an early access demo of Dawn Station, having been chosen and given the code to play it by Mcloughlin himself. You don't watch the videos because you want to play the game yourself with no spoilers, but from what you've seen, it's fucking amazing. Critics are already calling it the game of the decade. The internet is thriving, and a few people have already cosplayed Drew, the main character. Your best friend uploads a joking cosplay of the Anti and walks around town with it on. He gets over a thousand likes and teases you about being too good for you now that he's internet famous. You're living for all of this.

On October 16th, youtuber PeachCheerio is murdered in his own home.

Everyone is shocked, rightfully. Here is a man who had streamed just the day before, chatting with his members and looking at Dawn Station memes on Twitch. Today, he was discovered by his girlfriend in his own home. Leaked police reports tell you that the man, whose real name was Ronald Murphy, had been messily dismembered, his organs removed, half of them missing. You're in shock. He was one of your favourite streamers, and maybe it's silly to mourn someone you've never met, but you're deeply, deeply saddened by the news.

However, it doesn't stop there. The very next day, youtuber DUSSST - or Louise Greendale - is found the same way Ronald had been. Louise's girlfriend apparently called the police in hysterics before panic tweeting about the incident. The posts were taken down an hour later. The screenshots of what she'd said trend of Twitter and Tumblr anyway.

This is when the conspiracy theories arrive. Two youtubers dead in two days, both brutally taken apart and missing organs? Some people mock the theorists for it. Who had even said Louise had been killed the same way as Ronald, anyway? That is, until more apparent police reports are leaked revealing the details of Louise's death. The internet goes wild. The Los Angeles police department posts a video begging whoever's causing the leaks to stop, to think about the families of the deceased. All this does is prove that they're true. This video, too, is later taken down.

You log off in disgust. Some people have no fucking shame.

Things heat up the next day, on October 18th, when user rrroadblock, or Aryan Jha, dies as well. The death is covered up for the first few hours afterwards, but eventually is leaked in the same manner as the last two murders. This time, the theorists are no longer labeled as crazy. In fact, everyone's getting in on this mystery now. Three popular youtubers dead now, each found in bloody states in their own homes, three days apart? No one knows what's happening, but that doesn't stop people from guessing. And while you refuse to involve yourself in any of this, you also find yourself wondering who or what - not what, of course it's not a what, that's just ridiculous - who is killing all of these people.

Day four. The internet is silent, waiting. And yes, sure enough, youtuber KrisDoesGAMEZ, or Kris Velvet, is dead.

This time, someone realizes something that makes everyone pause. Each of the dead youtubers are all the ones who were given the free demo of Dawn Station, and are even dying in the order that they played it in. Everyone goes insane. Even you're suspicious - of what, exactly, you don't know, because why would someone murder someone else so brutally over a video game? Despite that, this can't be a coincidence. People place bets on whether youtuber ducksontheroof, or Donna Campbell, is going to be the next one to be found dead. Donna herself makes a statement on her Instagram, expressing disgust at all the people who were spreading such information around. She then deactivated all her socials apart from her YouTube. The people who had been making bets were shamed, and you have to log off yet again. This is getting to be too much.

You stay offline until nearly four pm the next day. Your friend calls you up to give you the news, but you already know what they're going to say. Let me guess, you start, voice flat and tired. Donna Campbell's dead.

They confirm it. You don't know what to say.

Her family put out a statement asking people not to theorize about her death. People do it anyway. Reports state that the remaining five youtubers who had played Dawn Station, along with, surprisingly, Jack Mcloughlin himself, had been taken into police custody. For protection, you assume. Once again, the internet goes insane. This proves their theories about the game connecting all the deaths, and a silent dread and buzz of twisted excitement hangs over everyone. You're just disgusted. People are treating this like some kind of murder mystery game, like this isn't real, actual lives.

Two days pass without news. At the end of the second day, there's yet another leak. Youtubers Doomandgloom - Persephone Henry - and TheSkinnerr - Rodney Pratt - are dead. You're just numb. You're just so fucking numb.

This reveal, of course, inspires yet another debate. If the youtubers had been under police protection, how had they died? Had the police seen anything? Why hadn't the leak said anything about it? Who was killing all these people in so little time, how hadn't they been caught? Had, really, no one seen anything at all?

There are now three youtubers left who'd played the game. Hothothotstanley, or Stanley McIver, visualthursday, or Khia Herrera, and BroAverage, or Chase Brody. You met Stanley McIver, once, at a convention in London three years ago. You have a picture on your memory board of you standing in the convention hall, him with his arm around your shoulder, you with a grin and sparkle in your eye. You can see the picture from your bed. You turn away from it.

However, the next day is a surprise to everyone. A video is uploaded to someone's Twitter - a full, uncensored video of the murder of Stanley McIver inside the government safe house he and the others had seemingly been kept in. The video is immediately taken down and the Twitter deleted, but everyone has seen it. Including you. The video is… horrifying. Of course it is. Why did you watch it? But you do manage to see who it is that killed him. Everyone on the internet does. And this - this video, that's maybe five minutes long - is enough to make everyone go silent.

The killer looks exactly like the Anti from Dawn Station.

No one knows quite what to make of this.

Even less so when Jack Mcloughlin dies the next day.

He's murdered. Same way as all the rest of them, in police custody. Now this is enough to shock everyone into mourning silence. Only a few pricks are left, and their accounts, channels and blogs are swiftly deactivated. Nine deaths in nine days. Nine deaths. Nine. Jack Mcloughlin.

The next day, Khia Herrera - well, you know.

Chase Brody is the last one left alive. You never watched his channel that much - he's really into horror, and is known for his Walking Dead playthrough and his Undertale Genocide run - but you still already feel a strange sense of loss. A sort of emptiness. Something churns in your stomach that you don't understand. There's a lot that you don't understand.

The release of Dawn Station is cancelled.

You spend the night at a friend's house, and just bawl for hours. You shouldn't be so upset, you shouldn't! You never knew any of these people! But fuck, there's something about seeing all these people who you'd been watching online for so long, who have given you so many happy days, so many laughs and inside jokes… just die. How had this happened? Who was it who was doing this?

Your friend sadly suggests it's some sick Jack Mcloughlin hater who decided it'd be fun to cosplay as his newest character and kill people to scare everyone. But while you outwardly agree, you internally know it's not true. Because every time you watch that video, every time you watch Stanley die - and you watch it a lot, just trying to make yourself feel something, even if it's just sick - you can tell the person isn't human. You know that's ridiculous, of course. But there's something about its eyes. Its face. It glances up at the camera and makes eye contact, and grins with too many white, jagged teeth, like an anglerfish. The eye in its throat sees you too. It glows. You shudder every time, watching it shake with glitches and laughter.

You're scared. You feel sick and dizzy and you lock your doors out of fear. You stay inside and open Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram again.

Poor Chase Brody, says the internet. They're already mourning. Already accepted his death. Poor, poor Chase Brody.

You hope he's ok, wherever he is.

#dawn station #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #boop writes

35 notes · View notes

psychcomposer · 3 years ago

Text

Alright, I have too many feelings about a video game that’s going to come out in a month that I really just need to get out. It’s been over a decade and one of my favorite games, The World Ends With You, is finally getting a sequel. I’ve been brooding on the trailers for months, and I just finished the demo, so it is time to put down my capital T Thoughts on Neo: The World Ends With You.

As a warning, this will be entirely too long. But I’m not about to keep this bound up any longer.

TWEWY is my favorite title for the Nintendo DS. It is a JRPG starring Neku Sakuraba, an aggressively antisocial teen living in the Tokyo district of Shibuya. He is suddenly pulled into a test of survival called The Reaper’s Game, where he is forced to join forces with a partner in order to survive a week of lethal objectives in a sub-planar version of Shibuya. I love the story, its such an honest and interesting take on learning to get outside of your comfort zone. But more than that, it is a game that does so much to put a modern twist on every piece of your typical JRPG. You control two characters at once, Neku with the touch screen and his partner with the control pad, forcing you to split your attention and giving mechanic weight to the idea that Neku can’t survive alone. Armor and weapons are replaced with clothes and outfits, with a character’s ability to wear them restricted not by class but by a character’s bravery. The music list is filled with punk, alt-rock and hip-hop that are a stark contrast to the symphonic tracks of other titles. Battles aren’t random impediments, but fun diversions that sport a robust reward system that encourages players to push their limits.

But even more than that, the most modern thing I appreciate about TWEWY has to be the characters. Neku, Shiki, Beat, and Rhyme all feel like believable teens that grew up in the 2000′s. They bicker, clash, and banter like teens struggling to survive and make sense of their situation. One of my favorite little gimicks of the story is just how many nicknames there are for every character. Almost everyone has earned a few nicknames. One of my favorite examples is Sho Minamimoto. He’s a reaper with an obsession with math, often infusing his speech with mathematical jargon or expressions, and seems to enjoy erecting “art installations”, which most people can only decipher as towers of trash. Over the course of the story, he gets called Pi-face, the Grim Heaper, and another nickname I can’t even mention because of spoilers. It’s just... such a nice little human touch, these kids throwing crafted insults at a human enforcer of their doom that could almost certainly tear them apart.

I’m getting into this to try to give a sense of why I enjoy TWEWY so much, why it has such a unique place in my heart. Its a game I’ve 100% completed several times over, a task that’s no easy feat with the sheer amount of collectibles and post-game objectives. Unfortunately, for the last year or two, I’ve been kind of dreading this sequel.

Neo:TWEWY has been... a long time coming. Way back in 2007 they had a whole website counting down to some sort of announcement, with the music slowly building in intensity. I remember following it with bated breath, until it finally hit zero! And we got... An ios port of the game. Talk about a let-down. To be fair, apparently it is a solid port, even managing to re-work the old battle system, one that required a second screen to work properly, into one that only needed one. But what that really offered to someone like me was the hint of a sequel, a single image of a new character being shown. They kept flirting with the idea of bringing the series back. The main cast even featured in a Kingdom Hearts game, of all things, even if they didn’t really do a whole lot. But these acknowledgments grew sparser and sparser.

A few years ago, they released a switch port of the game. Not only that, it included an epilogue! They were finally getting a sequel rolling! Of course I bought that game, beat it yet again, and fought my way to the new content and the hint of the new story ahead.

It was... Well. I found it disappointing.

The gameplay was competent, even if it was clear that the epilogue itself really hadn’t had too much put into it. One new character, new enemies just being reskins of old ones. It wasn’t meant to be dlc itself or anything, it was just there to herald a return to the series. That wasn’t what bugged me. What bugged me was the writing. It was heart-wrenching. It just didn’t feel right. It just felt flat compared to the story I’d enjoyed so many times. But what really killed my excitement was the new character, Coco.

Now, odd personality quirks are not too unusual among the ensemble of TWEWY. Pi-face is just one of the characters that is so infused with a particular theme that it shows in how they express themselves. It’s part of the charm of them, discovering the personalities that live in this dark underworld of Shibuya. But Coco... she talks like the most stereotypical young teenager possible. unironic lols, totez (yes, spelt exactly like that, in a speech format), OMG’s, and just, like, likes everywhere! It felt like someone who knew they needed to make a quirky character but had no idea how to write one well, and just made the most stereotypical caricature possible. I hated seeing that. It embodied every fear I had about the sequel being just a cynical project, pushed forward after so many years by people who just didn’t understand what made the original great. That mild dread was so persistent that even the release of the first few trailers couldn’t really get me excited for the game. Neo:TWEWY was shifting into 3d from the original 2.5d, with all the problems that could cause. What I could see of the story felt so much more like a generic fantasy tale with some modern buildings than the story I had grown through my teenage years with. And, well... Just look the original Neku and the new one they showed off.

Look at this. Look at one of the most vibrant, eye-catching character designs on the market for any JRPG in history, one that manages to mix purple and orange with striking lights and darks. And then look at the teenager edgelord bullshit they did with him. It’s atrocious. I hate it. He’s just another guy in a black outfit and just too much fucking cool guy protagonist power to not have the story be about him at this point. And look, I know that there’s Story LoreTM, I know that there could be some twist that explains this, I know that him being such a denial of his old self could be the entire fucking point. But let me tell you, when I saw this, I felt years of shifting, misplaced unease coalesce into a hard lump of dread.

And... Even... So... I did the stupidest thing I could have possibly done and preordered the game anyway. Don’t look at me like that, nostalgia is a hell of a drug.

But you know what? The damnedest thing happened. They released a demo for the new game a month before its release. And I played it, and... I enjoyed it.

Did you see that coming? I certainly didn’t. Welcome to the roller coaster.

Right off the bat, the writing soothed a lot of the fears I had. It felt right at home, like being plopped between to teens exchanging banter. One of the first exchanges is Rindo and Fret, his best friend, trying to meet up. Fret wants Rindo to meet him at someplace called Wunafo, an area Rindo is clueless about. After some annoyed texting, it turns out Fret is actually referring to 104, a local landmark of a building. Fret insists that its a stylish improvement on the name. Rindo only gives him some grief about it..

I’m not doing the scene justice, or I could just be really desperate for half-decent writing, but I can’t deny that it quickly put a smile on my face. I am almost sure I’ve had this conversation before in years past myself. And beyond that, this game boasts voice acting that brings out a ton of personality in the large cast they are introducing (besides Rindo, which is a shame because he’s the protagonist... hopefully he gets over his apathetic teenager shtick eventually). Not everything is voiced, but it conveys so much appeal and personality, and even when the character’s aren’t voiced there is a conversation screen that occasionally breaks out some stylish layouts to convey mood and temperment and clearly draw from the style that made the original game pop so much.

The battles, of course, have been completely revamped. TWEWY had you control two characters, one of which you could customize by equipping up to 6 different pins that all used different motions and unleashed different attacks. Now you control up to four characters, but each one can only use one pin. But even so, it feels very genuine to its roots. An effective build in TWEWY was usually one that let you stagger an opponent so you can unload a bunch of attacks on them, and in Neo:TWEWY the game actively pushes you to folllow up attacks with characters in succession. It would be easy for this to devolve into a mash-fest, but even with the little time I had with the game it introduced a wrinkle in that- an attack that unleashed a single powerful blow, but couldn’t just be unleashed at the end of the previous combo. It needed to be charged for a while, long enough for the combo timer to deplete. So now an effective combo requires thinking ahead, and even after that you’re paying attention to enemies to dodge out of the way when they strike back. It’s entirely possible this system will flop in the late game, but so far it is robust enough for me to think that it will be one that could make me look forward to battles.

The music hasn’t impressed me so far, besides the tracks that have made the transition from the original. But I remember those strange tracks needing some time before I appreciated them too.

Finally, the story has hooked me. I don’t think that needs much more explanation. I want to see more of these characters and see the changes that have been made to the world in what I assume is years after Neku’s game. And to address the elephant in the room, Neku has not made his appearance in what is available in the demo. Odds are I will probably hate whatever they do with him. But there is enough happening in the space around it that I’m interested in exploring, and a bruised apple can still taste sweet.

Almost all of this, of course, is mostly just saying that Neo:TWEWY is not doomed to fail. There is still plenty of room for things to go wrong later on. There are entire systems I haven’t really seen in game, like shops, pin evolution, clothing and food (Though it looks like they have changed the food system significantly, which I approve of). The things that unnerved me so much in the trickle of information after this game’s announcement could still be enough to turn this sour. But I’m smiling as I’m strapping myself in for this ride now, one I’ve waited quite a long time for. Whatever’s coming, I’m excited.

#long post #TWEWY #Neo:TWEWY #The World Ends With You #Neo: The World Ends With You #Sorry for the length but #look this isn't even all the thoughts I have on this upcoming game #but I'm not sure if any of my followers even care about these games sooo #the original examination of the new stuff and a sequel compare/contrast kind of got lost when I got into my history with this series #but I like how this turned out #even if its just for me

4 notes · View notes