#apologies for how yellow this spam is

[tobeseenthrough]

"I don't have any friends from my school days. But then, a friend from those days came into my life. I now have a friend to reminisce about the past with."

[sskk-manifesto]

♡

[lilacmingi]

HYENA (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Hyena hybrid!Wooyoung x fem reader

Word count: 4,025

Note: I had to make Wooyo the hyenas because of his high-pitched, squeaky laugh lol

Your feet wobbled slightly as you stepped over chunky rocks. Clacking sounds followed after as some were knocked loose by your steps. You took a trip out to the desert to do some exploring, wanting to try something new and different for once, as well as check out a place you had never been to.

You had rented a Land Rover to get around in and were told to stay on a path which was marked by stakes in the ground. You were a fairly good navigator and the instructions were simple, so you weren't worried about getting lost. Plus, it's not like you were gonna go exploring places far off from the path.

The desert was exactly what you expected it to be—deserted. Which, in all honesty, was perfectly fine with you. The last thing you wanted was to run into some animal. You were really only out there to look at the scenery and take photos.

You made it to a slightly higher elevation where you spotted a cave somewhere in the distance, your interest immediately piqued. The main thing that interested you was where this cave was situated. The cavern was located near the ground, seeming almost like a burrow, but with cavelike characteristics; a large rock above the opening and messily clustered along the top and around the entrance of the cavern. Your curiosity got the best of you as you traipsed down the rocky hillside and onto the dusty dirt ground. You moved over to the opening of the cave and peered inside curiously. The opening was large enough for a person to walk in, which was odd.

You stepped inside, nearly slipping on the dirt as the ground sloped downward.

"Incredible." You murmured as you gazed around at the large amount of space inside.

A faint noise caught your attention, pulling your focus away from the well-constructed burrow. You furrowed your brows, unconsciously moving ahead.

The sound of cackling could be heard from somewhere within the cave. As it got louder, it sounded almost hyena-like. The ominous sound sent a shiver down your spine.

Thinking you walked right into some animal's home, you began moving back towards the entrance, keeping your eyes on the endless abyss where the laughter emitted from.

"Well, well, well, look what walked into my cave."

The voice startled you.

Was there a person living in the cave?

"Wh-Who's there?" You stuttered out, taking another step backwards.

A silhouette appeared in the shadows, slowly moving closer. The first thing you saw were bright, yellow irises, staring at you like a piece of meat. The sight was unsettling but it's not what really disturbed you—what really disturbed you were the ears on top of his head and the sharp canines in his mouth. The hybrid grinned wickedly at you as he slinked closer, his claws dragging along the cave wall making a eerie scraping sound that made you feel sick to your stomach.

"I didn't mean to trespass. I didn't know anyone lived here." You apologized, backing away.

"Do you see open caves and go inside as you please?" The man... animal, asked.

"I didn't think anyone lived here." You said, taking a few steps back.

"Why are you trying to run away?"

You couldn't think of an answer.

"Don't worry. I don't bite... hard." His voice was silken, but threatening, as there was an ominous undertone to his words.

You stumbled back into a corner, trying to get away, only to have the hybrid trap you between his arms. His head tilted to the side, his gold irises scanning you before he brought his face close to yours.

"How lucky am I?" He grinned, showing off a pair of sharp canines. "A delicious meal walking right into my cave."

"W-what?" You stuttered, your eyes unable to look away from the hyena's sharp fangs protruding from both his top and bottom rows of teeth.

He ignored you, leaning down to your neck, inhaling deeply, a short, guttural and animalistic growl rumbling in his throat.

"You smell delectable. I could just eat you up."

Your eyes instinctively screwed shut. If you were about to meet your demise, you didn't want the last thing you saw to be razor sharp teeth. His hot breath fanned against your neck as he moved even closer. You trembled, preparing to feel his long fangs dig into your flesh.

"But I won't." He added. "That would be such a waste. After all, a pretty girl like you deserves to be saved."

Your eyes flew open in both shock and fear. Shock, because your life was going to be spared. Fear, because you weren't sure what he was going to do with you.

He brought one of his clawed hands to your chin, holding it between his fingers as he tilted your face up.

Out of pure instinct, you pushed him as hard as you could away from you. To your shock, he stumbled back, hitting the dirt wall on the opposite side of the cavern, staggering slightly. You didn't think you pushed him that hard, but based on the way his jacket was flung off one shoulder by the impact, you'd say you shoved him a lot harder than you assumed.

That's when you noticed his thin figure. Even though he was clad in leather and fur, you could still see how slender he was. He regained his footing and adjusted his jacket, dusting his vest off as he glared at you, his eyes almost glowing with rage. Despite that, all you could think about was his slender figure. Though he was a hybrid, he was still part human. A real person.

"You seem a little underweight." You commented aloud.

He ran his hands through his black and blonde hair out of annoyance. "It's not exactly easy to find food out here, you know." He grumbled, his jaw clenched. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is deserted."

An idea suddenly popped into your head. One that would possibly save your life.

"What if I made you a deal?"

"A deal?" He scoffed. "What could you possibly offer me?"

"Food."

"I'm not interested in granola bars and trail mix, okay?"

"No, I mean a real meal."

"In exchange for what?"

"You letting me go."

"Elaborate."

"Come back to town with me and I'll treat you to a nice meal. Anything you want."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to go into town around people?"

"We'll be eating in my hotel room. It's safer that way."

He stared at you for a few moments, visibly considering his options. Then, he nodded. "Alright. Deal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why not?" He shrugged.

"Great! Follow me." Your tone was unusually peppy, and rightfully so. You quite literally just bargained your way out of being held captive.

The hybrid followed you to the Land Rover you rented, keeping a close eye on you. Though you seemed friendly, he didn't completely trust you yet. If you show any sign of untrustworthiness even once, he would rip you to shreds... maybe. He was so confused. His instincts told him that you were food and he was in desperate need of sustenance, however, his heart squeezed a little at the thought of hurting you.

"Come on." You beckoned after getting inside the car.

He shook away his thoughts and climbed inside, situating himself in the passenger seat as you started the engine, hearing it roar to life.

"I see these things going up and down this path all the time. I've always wondered what it would be like to ride in one." The hyena commented aloud.

He tried holding back his excitement, but you could see it in his eyes.

"Well, now you get to find out." You smiled, driving down the dirt road. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Wooyoung."

"I'm Y/n."

"Y/n." He repeated. "Can this thing go any faster?"

"It sure can." You punched the gas, causing the vehicle to jerk forward before zooming down the path.

The engine thrummed loudly in response to the sudden speed change. The road was straight, allowing you the freedom to do such thrilling things.

You took a moment to glance over at Wooyoung, noticing how he leaned forward in his seat, his hands gripping onto the dashboard. To your surprise, a joyful laugh left him. Smiling to yourself, you turned your attention back to the road.

Wooyoung watched as rocks and trees whizzed by, the warm wind blowing through his hair. It was so liberating and nothing like he'd ever experienced.

Unadulterated joy began bubbling up inside the hybrid and before he could stop it, laughter began spilling out of him. High pitched, hyena-like cackles escaped him without any warning, a bright smile on his face.

The sight was almost heartwarming. A "feral" hybrid like him laughing and having fun was unheard of. You had to remind yourself that the man beside you could was still part hyena and could attack at any given moment.

You returned back to your hotel, leading Wooyoung inside. You got some odd stares from passersby on the street as well as hotel staff, but you paid no mind to it—or tried to, at least. You knew seeing a feral hybrid out in civilization was probably startling to some people.

Once you were back in your hotel room and away from prying eyes, you felt like you could relax a little.

"Alright." You started, grabbing the room service menu. "Here. Pick whatever you want."

He took the menu, glancing down at it. Your eyes lingered on his long claws as he browsed the dishes.

It wasn't long until he chose what he wanted. You chose something for yourself and placed the order.

"It'll be about 20 minutes. You can get a shower while you wait. If you want to."

"Are you saying I smell?"

"No! Not at all." You shook your head. "I just assumed since—"

"Don't try to domesticate me." He snapped, cutting you off.

You backed off, muttering an apology.

The 20 minute wait felt like an eternity. Wooyoung stood in the corner of the hotel room while you sat on the bed. The atmosphere in the room was tense and had you feeling on edge. Relief flooded you when there was a knock on the room's door followed by, "Room service!"

"Oh, good. The food's here." You stood up from the bed, answering the door.

When you brought the food into the room, Wooyoung straightened up, his eyes widening slightly in interest. He sniffed the air a few times before moving closer.

"Come on. You can sit down." You gestured to the desk, placing his food down.

You took a seat on the end of your bed, watching the hybrid. He stared at the utensils for a moment before grabbing the fork, stabbing the thick piece of steak with it. You started to interject and tell him that he could use his knife, but decided against it, allowing him to eat as he pleased.

He began gnawing on the steak, his sharp canines piercing the meat. You could tell he hadn't eaten in quite some time. After a few moments, you looked away and started eating your own food.

"I've never had anything like this before." He commented, mouth full of steak. "It's so good."

"Yes, it is." You nodded. "I'm glad you like it."

Once the two of you finished eating, you took notice of how late it had gotten. You were supposed to take Wooyoung back to his den after you fed him.

"It's almost dark. I don't think I can get you back in time." You told the hybrid.

"But you are taking me back, right?"

"Yes, of course. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow. You'll have to stay the night here."

"You want me to sleep in a bed?"

"Well, yes." You responded.

"Whatever." He muttered.

You tried to look past his snappy behavior and went to get the pullout couch ready. The room you rented was a normal hotel room with a bathroom, one bed, a pullout sofa, an office desk, TV, microwave, and mini fridge. Nothing special, but equipped with all the necessities.

"Here you go." You gestured.

Wooyoung took a seat, testing out the little mattress before lying down, not bothering to get under the sheets. You left the room to change into your pajamas and prepare for bed. When you returned, Wooyoung was still lying in the same spot, his golden-colored irises watching your every move. His eyes followed you as you walked across the small room over to your bed, slipping under the covers.

"I'm not gonna do anything." You told him.

"I don't know that."

You let out a sigh. "Goodnight, Wooyoung."

You clicked off the bedside lamp and laid down, pulling the covers up over you.

It took you a while to get to sleep, as you were a bit nervous sharing a room with a hyena hybrid. Part of you trusted him, thinking that he was just a lonely person, but the other half of you had to remind yourself that he was a feral and would attack you if necessary.

You rolled over in bed, the sun seeping in through the hotel room curtains. You stretched your limbs, turning to check on Wooyoung, not expecting the sight that met your eyes.

The hybrid was lying on his stomach and his face was squished against the pillow, small snores leaving him as he snoozed away. His ear twitched in his sleep, causing you to let out a quiet chuckle. He looked so peaceful and docile. You wanted so badly to squish his cheeks and give him a gentle kiss on the nose, but fought the urge to do so.

Just then, Wooyoung's eyes snapped open, staring directly at you.

"Good morning." You greeted him.

He quickly pushed himself up, seeming a bit frantic. Once he realized everything was fine, he relaxed.

"Well." You started, sitting upright. "I'm gonna get ready. It won't take long."

Wooyoung's eyes followed you as you went to your suitcase, grabbing a fresh change of clothes and going into the bathroom.

His heart felt heavy at the thought of being sent back home. Though he was still on edge around you, something in his chest tightened at the thought of separating from you.

The rental Land Rover came to a stop on the dirt road near the hyena's burrow. You put the car in park and turned to Wooyoung.

"Here we are." You announced.

As much as you didn't want him to leave, you knew he most likely wanted to go back to his den. And you wanted to kept your word. You only promised him a meal, nothing more.

You turned to Wooyoung who stayed in the passenger seat for a moment, staring out in the distance where his den was.

"Thanks for keeping your end of the deal." He told you.

"You're welcome."

He reluctantly got out of the car, walking towards his cave.

You weren't sure what to say. See you around? That would be stupid. You were going home in a couple days. You wouldn't see him.

"Well, goodbye." You finally spoke, putting the vehicle in drive.

"Wait." Wooyoung called out.

You paused, moving the gear shift into park.

"Yes?"

"I feel like I owe you." He told you.

"What? No. You promised to let me go and I promised to give you a nice meal. We're even."

"I still feel like I owe you. There's some nice places the tourists never show. Would you like to see them?"

The offer was nice and he seemed pretty set on making things up to you, so you agreed.

"Hop in." You gestured to the passenger seat.

Wooyoung took his place back in the seat and you took off, letting him lead the way.

The first place he showed you took a while to get to, but once you arrived, it was well worth your time. It was a vast stretch of land dotted with trees. A small herd of zebras stood around a small reservoir having a drink of water. You gasped in awe, pulling your camera out to snap a few photos.

"I haven't seen any animals around since I showed up here. I mainly came here for the scenery, but this is really nice."

"You have to go a little further to get to the good spots." Wooyoung told you.

"This is awesome." You marveled, stepping closer, taking more photos.

You stayed for a while until Wooyoung directed you to the next location. Each place he showed you was stunning. You were able to see all sorts of animals and get fairly close to some. It took a bit of driving to get to these places and sometimes you would have to get out of the car and walk, but you didn't mind. It was all well worth it.

The two of you sat on a large rock, watching a group of elephants walk across the long stretch of land.

"How do you know about all these places?" You asked.

"I get bored and tend to wander around."

"It must be lonely out here."

"Sometimes." He responded, his eyes staring out in the distance.

You were saddened by his response. You can't imagine what it's like to be out in the desert alone. You wanted to ask more, but he looked a little uncomfortable, so you changed the subject.

"Can I touch your claws?" You asked.

It's something you had been wanting to do. You had never encountered a hybrid with claws before so, naturally, you were intrigued.

He seemed amused by that question, letting out a chuckle. "Sure."

You took his hand, staring at his long, sharp nails. Your fingertips gently touched the end of his claws, feeling the sharp points of them.

Wooyoung watched you as you examined his hand, looking intently at his nails. The feeling of your fingertips running over his fingers and hand had him feeling extremely flustered.

He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away, unable to endure it any more.

"Come over here." He gestured, hopping off the rock he was perched on.

You followed behind as the both of you waded through the knee-high grass. He came to a stop at a hillside that overlooked a large part of the desert.

"Wow." You gaped. "This view is stunning."

"It is." Wooyoung smiled, softly.

You moved to stand under a tree, the shade giving you some relief from the heat of the sun's harsh rays. The warm breeze blew through your hair, helping to cool you off a bit.

You snapped a few photos of the scenery, wanting to remember it exactly as it is. You stayed and admired the view for quite some time before before heading back the way you came.

The two of you trekked through the grass, making on your way back to the vehicle. Just as you saw the Land Rover come into view, a low growl emitted from somewhere behind you. You spun around, a gasp leaving you at the horrifying sight; a dark, maroon-toned lion with a dark mane and a nasty scar over his eye slinked through the grass, his amber irises locked on you. A shiver ran down your spine as you took a step back.

Wooyoung's top lip curled back in a snarl as he pulled you behind him, keeping one arm protectively in front of you, shielding you from the predator prowling just mere feet away. The lion didn't seem to want to back down. Wooyoung bravely stepped closer, his claws ready to pierce into the animal as soon as it decided to attack.

You watched over Wooyoung's shoulder as the lion growled, taking a step forward. The hyena hybrid in front of you let out a menacing and threatening growl that rumbled in the back of his throat, warning the animal that if he got closer, it wouldn't be good.

The lion seemed to back off after that. For good measure, Wooyoung moved closer to the beast letting out an animalistic snarl as he bared his fangs. The lion gave an angry roar before turning away, leaving the two of you alone.

Your shoulders sagged in relief as Wooyoung turned towards you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, cupping your cheeks between his hands.

"Just a little shaken up, but I'll be fine." You assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You reassured him. "The sun is about to go down. I should get you back to your cave and head back to the hotel."

"But you're gonna miss the best part."

"What do you mean?"

"The stars."

"The stars?" You repeated.

"Yeah. I know a really good spot for stargazing. We'll have a great view."

The sun set and you found yourself sitting on the hood of your rental car which was parked off the trail and out in the middle of a grassy area. A myriad of stars hung in the sky above, standing out against the dark blanket that cloaked the atmosphere. Every once in a while, one of the stars would twinkle slightly, flickering for just a moment.

"Thanks for not eating me." You spoke up, cutting through the comfortable silence.

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle. "You're welcome, but I wouldn't have done it, anyway."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why not? Did you think I'd taste bad?" You joked.

"No. It's not that." He shook his head. "I just couldn't do it. You looked too innocent."

You weren't sure if you should be flattered or insulted. Either way, your life was spared, and for that you were thankful.

"Well, that's reassuring. I think." You chuckled.

"Sorry. That came out wrong." He let out a sigh, frustrated about something that you weren't aware of.

"Are you alright?"

"No." He groaned. "My mind is a mess right now."

"Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind, then? It doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense. Just talk it out." You told him.

"Alright. For starters, I had a really good time. These past two days have been amazing and honestly, I don't really wanna go back to my regular life. The thought of it kinda scares me."

Your brows raised slightly in surprise. You kept your composure, but on the inside you were freaking out. This whole time you'd been worried about leaving him to return to his normal life and come to find out, he didn't want to go back. You two were on the same page.

"I shouldn't be feeling this way. I shouldn't be attached to you. I shouldn't want to leave my den. I'm a feral hybrid—a wild animal. I'm not supposed to be feeling these things, but I do." He confessed.

"Wooyoung, would you like to come home with me?" You asked.

He seemed caught off guard by your offer.

"You can come live with me. I have an extra room. It'll be different from the life you're used to, but the offer is there if you want it."

"Yes." He answered immediately. "I do."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. After experiencing life away from the desert, I realize that's the life I want. Plus, everything is so much better, especially the food. The bed was nice too."

"That was just a pullout. Wait until you sleep in a real bed."

Wooyoung's eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement after hearing that.

"Come on." You beckoned. "Let's head back to the hotel. I'll let you sleep in the big bed tonight." You slid off the hood of the car, Wooyoung following behind.

"Can we share the bed?" He asked, timidly as he got into the passenger seat.

"Only if you shower."

"Do I smell?" He questioned with a pout.

"No, but you've been living out in the wild and I think you should clean up before crawling into a clean bed."

"That's fair." He shrugged.

"Then it's settled." You gave a nod of finality before driving back the way you came.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18

[afreakingdork]

Yeah, I'm not taking this sitting down. Man, I really am not trying to have beef out here, but I refuse to have my good fucking name tarnished. To make a public post about me? Yeah, I'm going to share my side. The facts are as such:

I approached wolf on 12/20/23 about a NSFW commission inspired by one of their works. It would feature my sona and an aged up Donnie. As they mentioned, our initial conversation was good. We went back and forth during the sketch phase and I requested quite a lot of edits. I asked if I could pay them for these corrections.

it was right after this that wolf asked about Donnie's battle shell since it wasn't illustrated.

After this message, I did not hear back from wolf after 2/9/24 until I sent them a follow-up message 3/27/24

I did not hear back from wolf until today 5/6/24.

Now I cannot share the images of the art I received because it is NSFW, but I can tell you that the grey from my sona's body appeared to be missing. The ears of my sona were grey, but the body only looked yellow. Donnie was missing his purple arm marks, and his knee pads were still the same only now they were colored in black along with his mask. From here I will just send the conversation in its entirety.

For reference, this was the reference sheet they had.

I was then sent two pieces where the grey on my sona was very obvious and Donnie's markings were now present with the following text.

Now again, I wish I could show you the pieces, but I can't. I was offered a 50% refund for my troubles, but I was not interested in taking it because wolf had already done all the work.

I will say that I was extremely frustrated with the whole affair so the next part I will admit was a bit salty because while corrections had been made, I wasn't able to give any input so there were still mistakes in my sona's colors (specifically the underside of the tail was yellow instead of white and my grey arm had one side yellow) and Donnie's mask was still black. The following is our last correspondence on my blog.

This would have been the end of it for me. Except, I did not get the email. I waited in hopes it would come in, but none did. Since I was blocked I was forced to reach out from one of my side blogs @thisgoesouttoyoubaby which feel free to check. it's my reblog sideblog that I use to send my bestie memes. It dates back YEARS and is not used for spam.

As you can see I was blocked here.

Now I have been refreshing my email feed waiting. I know emails can take time, but I have no way to confirm if I'm getting my work because I was immediately blocked on thisgoesouttoyou with no response.

So I used another sideblog, this time @plowingon which you can again, freely search, its not a spam blog, but a blog I once made to record the live of my old german shepherd I had years ago when he was getting older.

And wouldn't you know it, I got my first email from wolf at

Coincidentally, only after I sent my last message to them.

Now I'm not interested in hurting wolf's reputation. I think you should still commission them if you'd like. I still am a fan of their art. I have no ill will, but fuck if I will stand by as someone tells me that I won't pay an artist. I never even said i wouldn't pay. I was just frustrated because they wouldn't follow their own three correction rule. They allowed me no recourse, and then they were petty before I could even confirm that I received the email.

Could I have been nicer?

Of course.

Could I have been more clear?

Absolutely.

But there is no world in which I tried to gaslight anyone. I pride myself on my honesty. I was not shy when paying them. I sent payment before we even began. I offered to pay them more and acknowledged I was a needy customer halfway through. So I apologize for this long post, but I wanted to make sure all of this was visible because how dare you call me a scammer, wolf.

You disappoint me.

[viperpaws]

WELCOME TO MY BLOG!!

★ otter / otto / felix / viper !! it/xi/he !! minor :3 ★ [ this blog is for emotes and occasionally other art !! :3 ]

my emote discord server !! my personal blog @viperpaws-plus !!

alien divider art by @puppershy ★

requests: closed, hiatus

will do :: wordmojis, animals/animal features [ ears/tail ], silly yellow emotes, agere/petre emotes, expressions, simple animated emotes if specifically asked for, any other variants of emotes ive made, etc etc

wont do :: nsfw, gore, characters from games/fandom emotes [ unless specified in 'will do' or its something im interested in, ] ocs/full headmate emotes, anything too complicated, anything i cant draw yet

- try to be very clear when you ask and if you have something specific please provide a reference :3 also please keep in mind that my art style changes a lot! i am still learning anatomy and barely know how to draw animals, i apologize if whatever i make doesnt turn out the way you want it to.

- i work on requests in the order i think theyll take the least time/energy and only when i have the motivation! if i dont do your request its nothing personal !!!

boundaries / rules:

please do not trace or copy any of my emotes. slight edits are fine, i dont mind!! if youre inspired by any of my emotes credit is appreciated but not required :3

do not steal my emotes !!! reblogs are appreciated, but do not repost without credit!!

if you use my emotes in public discord servers please give credit by linking my tumblr somewhere. do not use my emotes for anything other than discord servers or aac

i dont mind spamming and dms are fine :3

do not interact:

obviously i cant control who uses my emotes and anyone is free to use them but id prefer if you didnt interact with my blog if you are any of the following:

kink/nsfw blogs, pro endo, anti-lgbt, anti-agere/petre, proshipper, anti-therian/otherkin

- might be edited later !!

[freshfraise]

I’M YOURS

pairing: richarlison x reader

summary: Y/N is a journalist arriving at a team training to carry out an interview for her new article. The training seems to be unproductive for many reasons, the main reason being that the team contains her vehement Ex- boyfriend, Richarlison.

author’s note: jealous and protective richarlison!! suggest listening to “im yours” by isabel larosa whilst reading… enjoy! + apologies for any bad portuguese

I’m guided into the stadium by a stern security guard, harsh white lights reflecting my canary yellow team shirt. My heeled boots reverberate across the stadium alerting any individuals nearby of my appearance. Clutching my microphone, and my question prompts in my hand, I take a deep breath and brush off any debris off my dark jeans.

I knew he was here. Me and Richarlison “split” exactly six months ago today. Although the split was mutually agreed upon, we both knew that it wasn’t the end of our journey, leading to an embarrassing amount of one night stands and drunken rekindling in the first month. He missed me. I missed him. But we were both too proud to admit it. The past five months I made the decision to refrain from interacting with him which meant ignoring his amorous messages and frantic calls in the dead of night. I watched him from afar, viewing his Instagram on my specially curated spam account. Parties, Girls and chasing a new high seemed to be all of his worries.

The reason why I ended things was because I needed to focus on my career. At the time I was dating him, I was a local journalist from Brazil, dreaming of doing better things and now I’m about to interview one of the best football teams in the world. I made sure that these six months without him didn’t go to waste. And naturally, I was led back to him.

Finally, I arrived on the pitch, watching from the stands designed for other journalists like me. Looking around, I realised I was the only woman in this area, making me extremely conscious of my every move. The team wasn’t on the pitch yet, so I decided to make my way to the bathroom quickly. My nerves were rattling me but I couldn’t let that be known. Asking a guard for directions, I quickly make my way towards a bathroom.

I stare into a mirror, viewing my change. I couldn’t tell if I was better without him or with him. My dark curly hair laid past my shoulders, my lips painted a dark crimson red. I felt different and my appearance reflected that. Scanning over my questions and making sure I was camera ready, I repeated the aim of the trip. I was interviewing Brazilian player on the psychological and manual preparation going towards the Copa América.

Leaving the bathroom in a rush, I hear whispers of Portuguese. Alarm bells ring in my head, as I begin to realise I am not in the correct area.

“Quem é essa beleza?” (Who is this beauty?) I hear a player question, I turn my head around locking eyes with Neymar Jr. I smile awkwardly and begin to scan my areas to make my way back. I clearly wasn’t in the right area and needed to make my way back as the players were obviously out on the pitch.

Sitting down, I get a phone call from my manager, going over everything I need to get done. The camera crew sat next to me, adjusting lenses and positioning. Although I was the only woman, I was thankful I had familiar faces around. In comparison to usual, there were significantly less journalists, myself being one of five.

Training begins, and I see Neymar and Richarlison conversing. Neymar seemed to be raving on about something whilst Richarlison looks around, seemingly trying to understand what he is referencing. This is quickly disbanded as the coach tells them to run laps alongside their team. I make the executive decision to go film some montages and introductions with the players in the background.

I walk down the steps, arriving against the barricade. I was wary of how close I was to Richarlison but I attempted to not let that phase me. My lanyard dangling around my neck, I make a signal to the camera crew to begin.

“Olá, eu sou Y/N Y/L/N, and today I am here with the Brazilian national team as they train for the Copa América. Attempting to attain the title once again, I am here to learn how the players are coping with pressure, and the mental and physical aspects going towards the tiresome process.” I finish ending with a smile. The crew puts up a thumbs up as I drop my microphone from my face, looking behind me.

I lock eyes with Neymar once again but my attention is drawn towards Richarlison. He stares into me, his mouth slightly agape. His eyebrows slightly furrow, almost as if he doesn’t recognise me, his eyes differ as flickers of familiarity scan his brown irises.

I feel statute, as Neymar begins to talk to me yet I don’t even process it. Richarlison comes towards me in a couple strides, and my breath catches in my throat, before I realise I’m going back up the stairs towards the seats.

I feel Neymar 's eyes glued into my back watching me go, before I hear Richarlison say, “Esta é a garota de quem você estava falando? Você falou da minha garota assim na minha frente? Fique longe dela antes que eu cause problemas.” (This is the girl you were talking about? You talked about my girl like that in front of me? Stay away from her before I cause trouble.)

I already knew that this wasn’t going to end well, and as expected they were grabbing each other's shirt collars in their hands. On the verge of pulling punches. Richarlison was acting foolish, talking to his idol like that.

“Problemas, sim? Você é louco? Você esqueceu com quem está falando?” (Problems, yeah? Are you crazy? Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?) Neymar replies, tapping the temple on his forehead.

Flared noses and a string of curses in Portuguese, it was getting escalated to the point where other team members were coming to diffuse the situation. The journalists on my side began to take note of the situation, beginning to redirect their focus on to the fight, at least ten different cameras facing them now. This was going to look really bad in the press, two of Brazil’s key players in the midst of a fist fight, this is not the type of tension needed before a massive tournament.

I don’t even realise I’m making my way down there, but now I am already by the barricade attempting to calm the situation. Instinctually, I place my hand on his shoulder, and call out “Rich, por favor, venha comigo.” (Rich, please come with me.)

This is the first time I’ve talked to him in months and it showed. His grip began to loosen, his breathing began to calm and his attention focused on me. I felt so guilty even though I shouldn't have, this was Richarlison’s fault starting conflict with his teammates. He got off Neymar and practically stormed out of training. I followed him out quickly attempting to catch up but he was walking as fast as a bullet.

He stopped at the changing room, before kicking benches down. I jumped, not expecting his sudden angered movements. I stood still as if I was planted in the floor, like an old oak tree in arid soil. I’ve never seen him this angry. I don’t respond well to anger at all, and he knows this. He continues to throw things off shelves and the room turns into a mess. I call out his name, hoping for a response but there’s nothing. Just pure rage. He slowly begins to realise my state, as he locks eyes with me.

He comes towards me, and embraces me whole. He wraps his muscular arms around my head and holds my waist close. I smell him, and hold him close before pushing him away.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, tired of his contrasting emotions and actions. His breath catches in his throat.

“Your hair is different.” He comments, scanning my curls. A sly smirk is plastered on his face, his eyes dropping to my lips. Completely avoiding the question, I sigh and begin to make my way back to the pitch.

“Wait.” He grabs my hand back from leaving, pulling me inside efficiently. He cups my jaw, and kisses me on forehead lightly.

“Eu nunca parei de te amar. (I never stopped loving you.) I hate it when other guys touch you, or say your name. Love makes me stupid, stupid enough to hit my own idol. I want you all to myself. Eu sei que sou egoísta. (I know I’m selfish.) I regret agreeing to split, but I was scared that if I didn’t leave you a little bit, I would lose you completely. And I would never forgive myself. You are the only one for me. My Mãe and my Pai? They love you more than they love me.”

I chuckle, before a tear threatens to spill. I wipe it before it even escapes my eye.

“I don’t know if we’re good for each other.” I laugh and shake my head. “Mas, eu sou seu.”

[winxanity-ii]

ok i said i wouldnt touch on it again but last one istg, but omg girlie i didnt expect one badly worded and misinformed anon post would get you spammed w hate / aggression

i do think the response from you was a bit harsh and rash but like no hard feelings yk n its totally fine for ppl to react to shit, we're all humans. but yeah at the end of the day its the author's book and readers r responsible for what they consume

but wow sorry i started a dumpster fire in your blog 😭 keep doing whatever makes you happy

im not gonna blame you because talking to friends about this they said that this was likely something that bothered people and they were just waiting for someone to open the flood gates/speak up about it. once again, i apologize for being harsh with you, but i'm not sorry for my overall message. i know how to tag things, if i intended for this to be a POC!reader, i would have thoroughly included the experience so it comes across like that, but it's not.

To simply explain my ire, if you were to take away me including the reader having Makima's red hair and yellow eyes and continue in the old 'Y/N' fashion of noninlcusive things like 'pale face' 'red blushing cheeks', no one would have mistaken this as an OC, but the seconds the signifier "brown" is given (LITERALLY 4 TIMES I COUNTED) there's an issue. People have brown skin of varying shades, so if anything, i want you guys to treat my works like you treat the old Y/N works, ignore it/imagine something else if it's that bad—that's what I did before I began writing my own things.

so no, it's not a "keep doing whatever makes you happy" it's a "you guys need to search deep within and find the hidden double standard that causes you to lash out at things that doesnt go the traditional way you're used to"

[littlestpersimmon]

do you have specific headcanons about pablo's art style as a cartoonist?

(also I am sending a hug if you're comfortable with that, plus an apology for all the spam likes and reblogs coming from my queue)

omg thank you!

yes, I know what his art looks like.! I imagine he has a very ligne claire kind of art- do you know the adventures of tintin and moebius comics? It looks like that. He draws very simplistically, almost like Chinese watercolor on occasion -

Pablo illustrates with a steady hand- he grinds his own paints too, clays and natural pigments from riverbeds and plants on his walks- Ligne Claire works for him- His lines are strong- and he can actually afford ink; While his colors are very earthy- ground clays and coals mixed in honey or gum Arabic- poor poor lightfastness, but his talent as an artist can be seen through his lines. Lea obsessively kept the drawings Pablo gifted him; In a little mini suitcase under a loose floorboard. In Pablo's old age, the new residents of The House find the drawings and marvel at Pablo's talent, very precious few of his drawings remain, and they survived the test of time because a boy loved him and how he saw the world.

P.S

Pablo's favorite possession in the world was a wooden case carved with rosettes and little leaves of shiny capiz shells. Inside there were square pots of gouache, gifted to him by Lea, Bianca and Maximo (all three of them saved up and stole a little for it.) The paints remain untouched- Pablo has lied that it was tempera paint so that no one would try to steal it, but it was genuine, high quality gouache- yellowed, cracked and dried from decades of no use. Pablo keeps it beside him always.

[apupp3tw0-strings]

The Trouble with Ads

Date: October 31st, 2131

After searching and calling out for quite a bit, rolling around Castle Town on my skates, I failed to notice when I wandered into Addison Alley/the shopping district until I accidently bumped my way into one of Spamton's old friends, Flash (the yellow one). Pretty much since my first interaction with the Addisons, any time I've found myself running into Flash, he's been constantly asking me about Spamton. Which like, isn't a bad thing. I'm glad at least one of the Addisons is concerned enough to try and keep tabs on the situation but, when it happens every time I run into this guy, it starts to get awkward. That's why I've, um, kind of been avoiding the shopping district and Flash as much as possible. (I'm not exactly proud of it! But like... There's not a lot I can tell Flash. Not to mention anytime I'm with Spamton and he spots Flash or any of the other Addisons, he jumps into my inventory pockets or some other hiding spot! ... Same deal with the Swatchlings too actually. Gyeeeeeeh...)

Of course Flash had heard me calling for Spamton and asked what was up, it's not like I was being all that quiet. (I mean, how would I expect Spam to hear me if I was?)

"He's not missing, is he?" Ooooh boy. I didn't not want to be in this situation. In fact I tried to escape it a bit... But also I couldn't just pretend like everything was alright. They had heard me calling for him!

"Gyeeeeeeeeeeh..." I tried to turn around, maybe it I was lucky I could still skate off the other direction before they asked more questions. "Well, um, m-maybe. He wasn't in his room in the castle when I got off school."

"Tch." Another, pink, addison piped up from a nearby tea stand. "Of course he has a room in the castle." The more I got to know Click, the Pink Addison, the less I liked her. He might've been the one who I promised I'd bring Spamton to talk to all of them eventually, when he was ready, and the one who said they wanted to apologize, but Click is a bit of a jerk! I've seen how she acts sweet to customers and stuff, but anytime Spamton comes up in conversations she's not even part of, she'll always make some rude comment. (I'm kind of ashamed how much Click's behavior reminds me of Taffy...)

After shooting a glare Click's way (thankfully I wasn't the only one who found his behavior rude), Flash turned back to me. "Did he leave a note or any other thing saying where he was going?"

I shook my head. "Jevil said he went out to look for some place to read in peace but other than that, I don't know." I honestly should've just said no and left there. I don't think the Addisons needed to know all the details. ... But then again, they WERE his friends, at one point, and Flash at least seemed genuinely concerned. Not to mention, I'd been searching for at least fifteen minutes to half an hour with no luck and I didn't want to leave Papa waiting in the school parking lot forever.

At that point, the Askers also chimed in with questions, trying to provide some help at narrowing the places Spamton might be down. I didn't exactly want to mention to the Addisons that some of places Spamton tended to hang out before Papa and I brought him in or before I got Remie to make him and Jevil rooms in the Castle were dumpsters and alleyways (I'm not sure if Spamton would've also wanted to hide that from them, or would've gladly told them in an attempt to get them to feel guilty), but when the Asker asked if there were any like, libraries or bookstores nearby, I mentioned the closest to that might be the Cafe.

"But... I don't think Spamton would head there."

"Why not?" Flash asked in response.

"He has an erm... Complicated relationship with Swatch."

"Jeez, has he been able to maintain ANY good relationships?" Click chimed in again, uninvited.

This time I was the one to shoot her a glare. "I mean, I'd hope my friendship with him is a good one."

The ad just took another swig of his tea before making another un-welcome remark. "Sure kid, keep telling yourself that." ... If I wasn't already focused on locating Spamton, I would've punched Click in her stupid pointy nose.

Shortly after that, another Asker commented how'd it'd be a shame if someone here knew where Spamton might've been, before mentioning a can. I took Click bringing up the tin can sticking out of Flash's pocket before the gears finally turned in the yellow ad's head and they remembered it. Click face palmed and shook his head.

So, apparently some time earlier, Flash got a spam call on this literal tin can that they thought was some other addisons from a different division but actually turned out to be Spamton. (... Of course Spamton would spam call people even on a tin can and string phone.) Though it turns out after figuring out it was Flash on the other end, Spamton got cold feet before abruptly hanging up once an Asker pointed out to Flash that it was actually Spam on the other end. (This guy is as oblivious as Blane... Maybe more so.)

After the reveal that Flash had a direct line to Spamton this whole time, we started following the string. I would have preferred Flash not come with, but I guess now I was stuck with him since he had the can phone and was already coming with me. (At least Click was staying at his stand. It would've been even more tense and awkward if she'd tagged a long.) There was maybe like, a minute of awkward silence before Flash tried to break the ice.

"So um... It's Halloween up in the Light World tonight, isn't it?" I wasn't even aware Darkners knew what Halloween was. I mean, I know they don't celebrate it and Jevil sure didn't know about it when CK and I explained it to him and Spamton a couple weeks ago. I guess maybe some of the Cyber World citizens know about it because literally the internet?

"Hmm? Oh um. Yeah." I replied. I still didn't exactly want to talk to Flash. I barely wanted him to even be there. So much awkwardness...

"You going Trick-R-Treating, kid?" I guess it does make sense for an advertising Darkner to know about holidays like Halloween. How else are they expected to advertise stuff around it?

I nodded before responding. "I was actually gonna get ready for it after I picked up Spamton. Thought maybe I could use it as a chance to introduce him to my friends."

"And yet you keep him from his own, huh?" That caught me off guard. Flash had a point, was it selfish of me to want to introduce Spamton to my friends while his own hadn't seen him in years?

"G-gyeh!? I-I'm not doing it on purpose!"

"Hey, hey, relax kid, I was joking!"

"Gyehh... It's just... I don't think he's ready yet." It wasn't a lie. I'm still not sure he's ready. "Any time he sees one of you, he hides. He never likes talking about you all and... If my Papa is right... I think he's scared." ... I'm not sure he'll ever be ready.

"Scared? Why would he be scared? I know he had some serious social anxiety back in the day but, he knows us." Flash paused for just a moment, looking at me in a bit of concern. "We were his friends." ... Was he trying to convince himself of that statement?

"... I don't know. There's probably multiple reasons." I tried to keep walking "... I guess, when I think about if I was in his situation. If I got super popular and my friends sort of left me, even when I really needed them... I'd be scared too." ... I... Ever since meeting Spamton, since learning his story, I've thought about that scenario more than I can really count. Even if it may be incredibly impossible, I'm still scared of it. Of everyone leaving me for something so stupid. Of not getting the help I need when I need it most. ...

It feels less impossible after what happened a couple weeks ago.

Flash paused, perhaps confused, perhaps concerned. I couldn't exactly tell. I was still trying to follow the string. "... Do you actually think your friends would leave you?

"Maybe? I dunno. I don't... Sometimes it feels like I don't fit in with them." Why was I pouring my heart out to this random Darkner I barely knew? Was it just because I wasn't thinking? ... Was it the odd sense of familiarity? Was it just because they were Spamton's former friend?

"Psh. What? You seem to fit in fine with that other Lightner kid." Right. Flash only knew about CK because CK was the only other Lightner to come here asides from Kris. And I mean, Flash wasn't wrong. CK and I catch on like a house on fire. (Sometimes literally with CK's magic.) We've been like that pretty much since we were babies.

"CK's different. He's my cousin and we live in different towns. My main friends... They sorta remind me of you guys?" It is eerie how much the Addisons remind me of my friends. When I first met them, I thought it was just the colors, but since having more small interactions with the ads, no. No it's more than that. There's these subtle little quirks and things that both parties seem to share. Little mannerisms and behaviors that I'm not sure anyone else would really notice. ... It's weird.

"Huh? ... That meant to be a good or a bad thing?" ... Was it meant to be a compliment? Was it an insult? I... I don't know. I feel if anything it might be making me see my own friends in lights I really would prefer I didn't see them in. Lights I don't want to think about because of what they might imply. ... Yet lights that are getting too bright to ignore.

"... I'm not sure." At that point, we reached a point where the thread led into an alleyway before stopping with the other can, laying near the wall across from a dumpster. I turned to Flash. "You remind me of my friend, Blane, though. Good and bad." ... Blane's always been one of my more... interesting, friends. He often goes too fast for me and is constantly getting into trouble, often roping me into it with him, but I still wouldn't trade him for the world. He can be a dunce and a jerk, but I still think he's a genuinely caring person who has my back. ... At least I hope he does. ... I hope they all do.

After that, I headed into the alley, Flash did too, though I had hoped maybe at that point they would leave. ... No. No he wouldn't. Which proved things a little more difficult when I did find Spamton after hearing the lid of the dumpster slam close after calling out for Spam. Upon opening the dumpster, I found Spamton holding his nose in pain (I'm guessing he caught it on the lid when trying to close the dumpster), before I could exclaim his name though, Spamton was quick to try and pull me into the dumpster and cover my mouth.

"[Sound off] KID !!" He hissed while gripping the handkerchief tied around my neck before I tried to wriggle my mouth away from his other hand. (It smelled like garbage, unsurprisingly.)

"W-what? Why-?" I asked before Flash piped in from the background asking if I'd found Spamton. The look Spamton gave me, that pleading, begging look... Yeah it was probably a very bad idea to have brought along one of the Addisons. A very, VERY bad idea. But also... This might be one of the only times I'd be able to get Spamton to confront his past. Even if it was through a bit of force, when else could I get him to talk to them? If he was just afraid, there was no way he's going to just get over that unless forced to face them, right?

... But then again. Was it really my place to make that call?

Either way, if I kept standing with my head in the dumpster, eventually Flash would come to investigate anyways. In a panic I stood up and tried to hide Spamton behind me, one of my hands holding the lid mostly closed. I probably should've said something after that but... Once I locked eyes with Flash again, I froze. The Askers kept pressuring me to just tell Flash the truth but... at that point I think my anxiety was starting to spiral. I couldn't stop sweating as I ummed and "well"ed while trying to avoid eye contact with Flash.

... I was lucky that eventually Flash got the message that Spamton had no interest in seeing them and I was just nervously stalling to try and not hurt their feelings.

"He still doesn't want to see me, does he?"

I gave a sheepish nod, still trying to avoid eye contact.

"Ah, well... As long as he's alright, I guess I'll get going." And with that, Flash left. ... I feel even if I had tried to convince Flash to stay, Spamton still wouldn't have changed his mind.

After a few moments and Flash had long since gone, Spamton finally popped back out of the dumpster.

"IS HE [Going going gone!]"

"Yeah" I sighed before taking Spamton back home, making sure to avoid the shopping district this time.

Can someone tell me when I signed up for this? And more importantly, where I can fricking unsubscribe?

To Be Continued.

[buwheal]

Honestly as much as it sucks not being able to show like. 90% of what I have planned due to no one asking about it, the 10% of the time they do is like. God it's so good. You have no idea how amazing it felt when FINALLY people asked if Yellow knew Spam tore off his face.

I try my best to give hints but at the end of the day, if they don't pick up on it, I don’t touch it until it's important again. Obviously this doesn't really work with your not-story ask blog but... idk. I guess it's just something I keep in mind. If it's really important, if it's something they Need to know, it's best to make it obvious enough for the majority to understand. I mean, remember when it took like 2 days for just Me to realize spam was saying he doesn't starve /all/ the time?

Most people aren't extremely detail oriented, I've realized, and it makes it harder to strike a balance between a hint and essentially giving the answer on a silver platter.

Sorry I'm just rambling in your box. I guess I'm just trying to give my own perspective? Idk. What is bro yapping about etc etc.

Ouuhhh i BET!!!! Its so fun i get what you mean!!! Ty for the advice,, btw!! Its rlly helpful to get another perspective from someone who also has an active spam box lol X-S That i know of at least... may be more.. I think i gotta tinker with some stuff btw !!!!DO NOT!!!!! (/silly) apologize!!! for yapping!!!! or for rambling!!!! I love hearing from my moots!!! :wave:!!!!! All the little guys in my puter your little ramblings are music to my ears

[solalunar-eclipse]

Strings Neither Green Nor Red

Chapter title: Pink Embroidery (Clickon K. Addison)

AO3 Link

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Spamton belongs to Toby Fox, all other characters belong to @brightgoat on Tumblr and Twitter.

Click sighed. Vid had left their apartment keycard in their house again, and yet again, it was up to him to bring it to their workplace.

This had been happening more and more recently, and he was getting sick of it. Not only did it put him out of his way, but it cut into his break time, which he needed to be savoring every second of just to hold himself together. 

Ever since the rift in their department opened up with Spamton’s disappearance (which had only grown as Vid and Mags became more at odds), Click had been spending as much time avoiding the others as possible. This pattern forced him to do everything but that, making his mouth twist in annoyance as he rounded the corner towards the shop.

Click threw open the door to Vid’s place (a little convenience store, this week), not bothering to grab it before it slammed into the doorstop. “Hey! I got your keys!” he shouted into the silent store.

No reply came, except for the very faint echo of his voice off the tiled floors.

That kind of silence was weird, even for a depressed Video. Warily, he wandered up and down the aisles, unable to even catch sight of anyone at the register. Could Vid have gone out? But then why was the door unlocked? The yellow Addi had lost their apartment card, not the keys to their store.

Click’s ponytail twitched at a quiet noise, and he combed it over his shoulder somewhat shamefully, hoping nobody had seen that. 

That was nothing, however, compared to how he reacted when the storeroom door swung open in his peripheral vision.

It was sheer luck that his tail didn’t drop more than anything, but it certainly came close, given that he’d screamed nearly loud and high enough to shatter glass. Instinctively, Click summoned an arrow, pointing it at the figure in the doorway.

“…AH, [$!&*].”

That voice…

The pink Addison’s magic fizzled out as a new kind of terror welled up in the pit of his stomach. “S…Spamton?”

“[[The one and only!]] WHO’S IT LOOK LIKE I AM, [the Fonz]?” he shot back, looking decidedly unimpressed.

Click nearly let out a half-hysterical giggle, but choked it back. “N-no…” he said weakly, unable to muster a better response.

He’d been planning for this moment for years. His apology speech had been perfect—just the right blend of sales pitch and argument, sure to convince Spamton of his guilt and his desire to make it up to him. Now, though, he couldn’t remember a word of it.

Vaguely, he wondered if this was what stage fright felt like.

“You’re alive.” he managed to say, and then immediately winced. Way to point out the obvious, Click.

“WELL, DUH.” Spamton gestured to himself, blatantly unimpressed. “YOU GOT ANY MORE [Logical Deductions] TO POINT OUT, [[Sherlock]]?”

“Listen—Spam—” Click began, but he was rapidly cut off.

“NO. THAT WAS A [Answer Not Provided] QUESTION.” Spamton snapped. “I DON’T WANT TO [Here] ANY MORE OF YOUR [[Rated PG-13 For Foul Language]].”

“But I’m sorry—” he tried again.

Spam laughed harshly. “YOU?! SORRY? HA! AT LEAST [[Video compilation]] WAS BELIEVABLE. HE MIGHT’VE LIKED ME, [Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away]. I WAS JUST Y0UR [[Sob story]] [Punching bag]. AND YOU EXP3CT ME<TO [[Return to sender]] BACK T0 TH4T?!”

Click felt like he’d just been hit in the chest. “Wh—I don’t—just let me explain…”

“EXPLAIN WHAT? HOW I’M A [[glitchy little freak]] WHO’S [[going to come running back to us the second you fail]]? NO W4Y. I’M NOT GONNA [Put Up Your Dukes] WITH A [Round 2] OF THAT!!”

The pink Addi felt sick to his stomach. Hearing Spamton spew out his own words as part of his glitching genuinely left him closer to making a mess of the store’s floor than any alcohol could ever have done. 

Clutching at his mouth, Click leaned heavily against the shelves, resting his other hand on his knees. All his words were stuck deep in his throat, choked by the impact of his disgusting old speech.

Spam rolled his eyes. “SAME OLD [Drama Queen]. THAT [[Sales Shtick]] AIN’T GONNA WORK ON ME, YOU B[but are you okay?]!”

Click dragged himself back upright, leaning on one of the shelves. “Not really…but I probably deserved that…and more. I mean, I’m guessing you haven’t been okay for a while…”

Spamton seemed a little startled by his last outburst, as though he hadn’t meant to say that. When Click spoke, however, he refocused on the conversation.

“I MEAN, UNLESS YOU COUNT LIVING IN [[the trash like a rat]] AND [Eating the scraps from the table] AS OKAY.” he said, giving the pink Addi an irritated look.

“Oh, god…” Click groaned, as the true force of exactly what his words at the Cyber Grill had done hit him for the first time. “Oh, god, what did I do? I mean, at least you’re not dead, r—no, never mind, that sounds so messed up.”

“YOU GOT THAT ONE [Right as rain].” Spamton muttered. 

“How am I supposed to fix that?” he asked (mostly to himself), feeling weak. “How the hell do I—make this all go back to normal?”

“YOU DON’T. [U] CAN’T. [Default settings] AREN’T EVER COMING BACK, [[Clickbait]].”

“But I have to!” he cried, his speech fully off the rails by this point. “I need to, it’s eating me alive! Don’t you understand?! I can’t live like this!”

“Maybe I can help with that!” a voice said from behind him. 

“Vid!” Click gasped, never more relieved to see the yellow Addi than now. “Wait, actually, hold on—do you know why Spam’s in your store??”

Video sighed, giving him a half smile. “We started talking a few weeks ago. Now I’m working on making things up to him. Slowly.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?! …never mind. That makes sense.” he sighed, still a little stung.

“But…how can you help?” Click asked, desperate.

“Okay, so listen, Click. This isn’t the kind of thing you can one-and-done. You’ve gotta prove, over and over again, that you’re not gonna treat him like you used to. Heck, he might never forgive you…I don’t even know if he’s fully forgiven me yet.” Vid said, surprisingly serious for once.

“That’s not helpful!” the pink Addi snapped.

Vid raised an eyebrow. “Aaand that’s the first thing you’ve gotta work on, right there.”

“What?” Click was bewildered.

“Your anger issues! Thing is, man…anyone who you don’t like, you yell at until you scare them the heck away.” Video explained. “‘S what ya did with Spam, right? Though for the life of me I can’t figure out what you hated about him so much.”

“I didn’t hate him.” Click scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I was just…annoyed.”

“Wow. How long’ve you been telling yourself that one?” Vid shot back. “You legit said the words ‘I hate Spamton’ out loud. More than once. And you insulted him, like, all the time! Since when have you ever not hated him? …no offense, Spam.”

“SOME TAKEN. FROM [[Cotton Candy Half Off]], NOT YOU.”

“W-wait, but that’s not what I meant—!” Click cried. “I…”

“YOU KNOW HE’S [Right on the money!], DONTCHA.” Spam sighed.

“But, it didn’t mean anything, did it? It was just…what we did! I mean, how else was I supposed to act when—”

Click cut himself off, unwilling to say the rest of the sentence out loud.

—when you were such a total failure?

“When what.” Spamton snarled, all glitching gone.

“No, it’s nothing! Really! I didn’t mean it!” Click yelped. “Dammit, I’m not messing this up again!”

“Aren’t you?” Vid asked, very little sympathy present.

The pink Addi turned several shades paler.

“Listen, man. I’m gonna give ya one last bit of free advice.” Video continued. “If you’d spent one damn minute actually hearing out Spam’s feelings way back when—geez, even just listening to one of his pitches—maybe you wouldn’t’ve made so much fun of him! Can you even imagine how hard it is to mess up sale after sale and then come home to your resident Pink making fun of you nonstop? And to put up with that for literal years? Don’t you get just how much that takes?”

Click felt a mounting realization building inside him. “Oh, god.”

“Yeah. Just, like, think for maybe five seconds about how the person on the other end feels, okay? Even if Spam never forgives you, at least you’ll know you won’t make the same mistake again.” Vid finished.

“DAMN, VID! WHEN DID YOU [Becomed] THE [[Mom Friend]]?” Spam called from behind Click.

Meanwhile, the pink Addi was having a crisis. “I thought you didn’t care! Are you saying I’ve been kicking you while you were down this whole time?” he asked, stunned.

“UH, YEAH??” Spamton said, like that should be obvious.

“…but, wait—does that mean I’m like the other Pinks?!” he cried.

“Did—did you think you weren’t?” Vid wheezed. “What planet have you been living on?”

“I thought I was better than them!” Click shrieked, defensive.

“TECHNICALLY, YOU’RE THE [#1] THOUGHTFUL [[Magenta]] IN OUR DISTRICT…BUT THAT’S A [How Low Can You Go?] BAR, PAL.” Spamton explained.

“So what you’re saying is, ‘better than Joyston’ is still pretty damn terrible.” Click muttered. “…actually, that sounds really obvious when I say it out loud.”

“[TBH], YOUR ONLY REDEEMING [[Quality Product]] IS THAT YOU’RE A TOTAL DORK AROUND POPPUPS.” Spam said.

Click opened his mouth, ready to snarl some insult right back. He could feel a million appear instantly in his head, ready to fire for maximum impact.

And then, he saw Spamton brace himself.

Instantly, he felt sick all over again. He really hadn’t changed, had he? Honestly, he deserved way worse than being made fun of for his love of poppups. Spam should be beating the life out of him right now, not patiently explaining where he’d gone wrong!

“I really am a terrible person.” he said instead, his shoulders slumping.

“I don’t know about terrible, but you’re…really good at hurting people.” Vid said, and Click winced. “But, that doesn’t mean you can’t change that! It’s pretty hard for Addis to change, but I sure have.”

“Yeah, you’re being weirdly rational right now.” Click said. “Why?”

Vid sighed. “Back before…everything, things never went wrong for me. Sure, I might’ve lost a sale here or there, but nothing, like, apocalyptic ever happened. But having your whole life turned upside down kinda changes your outlook…I still wanna live life to the fullest, but now I’m a lil’ more careful to keep an eye on how other people are feeling, too.”

“HEY, HANG ON, [[Video player]]! YOUR [life turned upside down] AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN GET TO GO TO [[Bel-Air]]? ROUGH.” Spam said, suddenly smirking.

“Wh—HA!” Video cackled. “Did I really say that?”

“YEP.”

Click’s first instinct was to roll his eyes again at such a (frankly) lame joke. But then, he noticed how Vid was genuinely laughing for the first time in years. And Spamton—Spamton was grinning. For real. 

Faintly, ever so faintly, Click felt his expression relax into the lightest of smiles. His shoulders dropped, and he leaned a little more into the shelf. 

“Guess that wasn’t half bad, Spam.” he hummed.

Both of the other people in the store did double takes. “SERIOUSLY?” Spamton asked, startled.

Vid just beamed.

Blushing, Click looked away, feeling tense again. “Hey, I have to start somewhere, right?!”

“YOU GUYS ARE [[Full of surprises]].” Spam said, smiling wryly.

“Having the element of surprise isn’t just for fighting tactics!” Video cheered.

Click smiled again, briefly. It was getting easier already, when he allowed himself to be infected by Vid’s energy instead of pushing it away.

“MY [20XX—20XX planner]’S GONNA BE FULL IF I START SPENDING [[Time is money!]] WITH BOTH OF YOU, YOU KNOW.” Spamton said, but not in a way that suggested this was necessarily an issue for him.

“Sounds like a good problem to me.” Click replied, after a moment of thought. It wasn’t too difficult for him to not be annoyed by Spam’s presence, given how long he’d been hoping for exactly this. Responding to him genuinely was still weird, though…it took actual effort for him to think of something that wasn’t a snappy retort.

“...OKAY, THIS IS ACTUALLY [[Stranger Than Fiction!]]. WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT DID YOU DO WITH [Clickbait]?” Spam asked, a faint smirk on his face.

“Is that your new nickname for me?” Click said, raising a brow. “I’ll have you know my businesses are all perfectly respectable!” He stuck his nose in the air, only a little bit serious. 

“SURE, SURE…WHATEVER YOU SAY.”

It took all of Click’s strength not to slice back at Spamton. Instead, he rolled his shoulders, sighed, and asked, “What are you going to do now?”

Spam’s look of surprise when the pink Addi spoke, however, made all his effort worth it.

Once he’d recovered, though, he asked, “WANNA GET SOME [[Sweet treats]]? I [Seeing Is Believing!] A COTTON CANDY STAND THIS MORNING!”

Click’s eyes lit up, and unbeknownst to him, his ponytail began to swish excitedly. “Really? Where?!”

“DOWN BY THE [[Carnival in town]]! …BUT YOU’RE PAYING.” Spam said, smirking.

The pink Addi winced, but even that wasn’t enough to deter him from the prospect of his favorite food. “I’ll take that deal.”

Spamton beamed from ear to ear, stunning Click into silence. “HEY HEY HEY, WHADDAYA KNOW! LOOKS LIKE I CAN STILL [[Salesman Never Sleeps]] AFTER ALL!”

Click groaned softly, but without malice. “Dammit, it’s not fair! You know my weak spot, don’t take advantage of me like this!”

“HAEHEAHAHA! A GUY’S [Gotta Do What He’s Gotta Do!]!!!” 

“Yeah, yeah. You coming or not?” the pink Addi asked, pushing himself off the shelf and heading for the door. 

“JUST TRY TO KEEP UP!” Spam exclaimed, already right beside him.

It was only once they’d left, the bell on the door long since finished ringing as it swung shut, that Vid remembered they hadn’t even gotten their apartment card back.

[ne0nwithazero]

In my AU, Spamton's glasses being the same colour as Mike's eyes actually has a rather bittersweet story behind it :')

Throughout his Big Shot era, while Mike was a mentor to Spam, it got to a point where he was very controlling and nitpicky. Spamton began to suspect that Mike was subconsciously trying to live through him, so he decided to stand up to him.

Not by communicating with him no lol

Instead Spamton got a pink suit and a pair of pink and yellow glasses made. Pink suit because Mike was super insistent that he wore pink, and Spamton's red big shot suit was the closest to a compromise they could reach.

Anyway, Spamton put on this makeshift Mike cosplay and jokes with him that now it will be easier for Mike to live through him. And this makes Mike realize what he was doing, so he apologizes and steps off to respect Spamton's boundaries. And with that, the glasses ended up symbolizing that silly bonding moment they had ;v;

Things became bitter by the end with their relationship completely falling apart.

When he was evicted, Spamton hardly had any time to get his things back, and after misplacing his original glasses, he found the pink and yellow glasses and grabbed those instead. Bitter that he was stuck with something that once symbolized the friendship he had with Mike, now a bitter reminder of yet another person who abandoned him when he needed them the most.

It was never a Swatch cosplay, that was only Swatch's assumption with how bitter they were with Spamton's betrayal of their trust 😭

[myshredda]

[i apologize for all the oc spam]

I imagine the quintet meets cousin Purple in Tesco one day

like, they're out grocery shopping and yellow notices someone who looks familiar, and he waves at them and they turn to him and look shocked, and is all like "YELLOW?! YOU'RE STILL ALIVE?!" [caus they've been left to stay with roy before, they know how bad he is at taking care of people]

and Yellow is confused for a moment, but after purple reintroduces themself to him he's like "Oh!!! You're the guy who gave me christmas presents when i was little! Hi!"

And purple stops and chats with them, and they give them their number in case they want to get in touch

and thats how that happened :3

Oh very cute!!!!! Also I love that the inclusion of Tesco in this universe started out as a funny hee hee jokey joke bc I thought it would be Very Hilarious if the puppets were trapped in an endless loop of misery but also they could just go to Tesco whenever they wanted has now morphed into the cultural centerpiece for them to experience life in the outside world.

So of course it would make sense that Cousin Purple would show up in the Tesco, giving Duck a heart attack about adopting ANOTHER kid but I assume Purple has managed to carve out their own life at this point. Duck begrudgingly swaps numbers with them (stating that it's his PRIVATE LINE so he'd APPRECIATE if it wasn't leaked to the PUBLIC, Red just shakes his head bc wtf does that even mean) and Yellow will text Purple like this:

"Hel;llo, its yellow - :O) <3 <3 <3 Texts me back plz" because he's too excited to edit the errors out and also I don't think he's ever used a touch-screen before. Given enough time him and Pink and Green would probably become ipad babies lmao

[saint-starflicker]

20 Questions for Fanfic Writers

Yoinked from @spacecasehobbit who remembers the days when works on FanFiction.Net would get spammed with hate comments for having a non-canon m/m pairing in it because (so it was implied) that was aberrant and didn't belong in fanfiction...and now fanfiction hosting websites are known as the non-canon m/m websites. Online fandoms have progressed a short way in a strange direction, but we have progressed!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 8 public ones.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? Upwards of 100,000 words since 2020, but I'm not counting the hair fic that I took off my public works list for being too junior kid gloves and fluffy, or the backdated April Fools fic that I kept off my publics works list for being too gory and sexual (also secondhand embarrassment, warning for the real ones out there who can tolerate sex-and-violence content but implode when fictional characters get awkward in day-to-day interactions. You know my heart.) Also I'm not counting my fics from FF.Net or LiveJournal, during which I had creative constipation though so that's not a lot of words anyway, and that wasn't part of the question so moving on

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Bare and Fraternity, which currently have an active online fandom of fewer than 15 people combined. (Bare might skyrocket to maybe 38 active fans sometimes, maybe it's the summer.) I've dabbled in Babel and Dead Poets Society, because I'm in my Dark Academia era.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I only have 8 public fanfictions, so it's easier to say than none of the 3 Fraternity fanfictions made it to the top 5 in kudos. I am slowly working on what I expect to be the next three flop fics regardless.

5. Do you respond to comments? I do try to. Mostly I fail.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is a tough one because I tend to write happy ever afters or mixed-bag ever afters, but not outright "farewell cruel world!" type endings usually. I would say Pygmalion Retold is the one, but I'll give honorable mention to have a cross to wear but the bolt reminds me because...it was supposed to end at chapter 6 though. While I liveblogged my process in the BAPO Discord and said "I can't keep them apart, they're too cute together" while experimenting with the seventh chapter...the central conflict* was one that still isn't worked through, that I knew when I started it wouldn't be worked through, and being cute together isn't conflict resolution.

* Peter never really forgave Jason for the plot of Bare, in this fic. Extradiegetically: it's been 25 years, maybe let's all forgive the teenager from 1999 for having internalized homophobia?? Jason's already dead what more apology do we want.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Speak Again, Bright Angel definitely. Let's get the Dark Academia gay boys out of school and into a space opera with giant mecha robot space ships that also shoot laser beams. The giant robots combine to make an even more giant-er robot. Changing the setting and genre to something as epic as that calls for epic victory or epic tragedy. I went for the former.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Probably, but not where I can find them. I got much more hate on my original fiction back in like 2007.

It's the internet, so there's gotta be a hater somewhere sometimes about really any goddamn thing for eyebrow-raisingly ulterior reasons that don't make sense or apply. I knit! There's knitting community drama! I paint watercolors, and some communities are yellow ochre exclusionists while mudslinging about the difference between granulation and flocculation. Human beings were not built to interact with each other or form communities.

9. Do you write smut? I have no qualms about writing explicit sex scenes. When the language to do that is either clinical or vulgar and I don't want to write like that, though, then I look for a Secret Third Thing and then maybe it's disqualified from smut because of that? Or maybe it isn't because it's still definitely obviously sex that they're doing. That's why I still don't know if I have written smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? Yes.

11. What's the wildest one you've written? It's in my drafts: a Fraternity crossover with Gregg Araki's road trip film The Living End and Scott Heim's Mysterious Skin. There's a prequel that I want to post the same time as the main story. The prequel is more complete than the main story because I was writing both parts at the same time, so it's not a prequel anymore.

I still would like to read Daniel Preston (Fraternity) and Farleigh Start (Saltburn) in a room together. Nothing smutty, I think they would just have a lot to talk about, such as what it's like being Black American demisexual/pansexual men written by white people. I want to read that but I don't want to be the one to write it. (But that wasn't the question.)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I was requested permission to translate, appropriately, my one contribution to the Babel fandom. 🥳 Of course I granted it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope! Never say never, but right now I know my process and a co-writer doesn't fit in it.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? I think I still have a soft spot for Naoto Shirogane and Kanji Tatsumi from Persona 4, and Ruta Skadi with Serafina Pekkala with Lee Scoresby (but not Ruta Skadi with Lee Scoresby; she will kill and eat that rabbit) from the His Dark Materials trilogy book series, but right now Peter Simmonds and Jason McConnell are the most loyal and insistent patrons of the fanfiction café in my mind.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but you doubt you ever will? halp

16. What are your writing strengths?

This is funny to follow question 15 with but I usually know how to troubleshoot when I get stuck. I don't much like my writing style now, but after I'm done I still like that I turned a premise into a plot. I think plotting is my strength, although I have also gotten compliments on my dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Around the 18'000-word mark, if the story isn't finished yet, I lie down on the floor and throw a tantrum like a toddler because I want the story to be finished already so that I can do literally anything else with my life. I say that I get compliments on my dialogue, but I also know a major weakness I have is an over-reliance on dialogue. Finally, I post before I clear my mind enough to even self-edit, so very often I will re-read later and then edit a patch over a continuity error...which means that I know the iceberg-tip of my first-draft continuity errors. I have not mentioned my bog-standard sentence structuring and utterly potato punctuation use.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? It could happen.

19. First fandom you wrote for? The Book Series That Must Not Be Named, in pencil and lined notebook paper. I think the first one I posted online was for His Dark Materials, though.

20. Favorite fic you've written? I love them all equally.

[saving-ray-23]

BATGIRL (ELEVEN)

Coach Yeoh was a master of all trades, it seemed. Lacrosse coach by day, seamstress by night. She had heard from James that she was a small, tiny fan of Batman and went nuts. The next day, she was presented with a dark purple jacket make of leather, a bright yellow bat-symbol on the chest. It was badass to say the least, not to mention one-of-a-kind.

And when Barbara asked how she got it, all the Coach said was that she knew a guy. By Friday, the costume was complete and awesome. Coach Yeoh had found this cape that clipped onto the jacket shoulders and a utility belt dyed bright yellow filled with dollar tree smoke bombs, safety pins, and a couple fake batarangs from Toys-R-Us. Barbara cleaned a pair of black jeans and laced tightly the yellow boots she had gotten for Bess too long ago to remember. She never got a chance to give them to her, but with all the effort Coach Yeoh was putting into the costume, she couldn't find a good excuse to not wear them. Last was a dark coat of greasepaint in a stripe across her face and with her hair braided back and most of her face hidden under the hood of the jacket, she was a female Batman.

It was extremely dorky, but that night, she just felt . . . cool.

James and his girlfriend were going as police officers— most likely a slight towards the Commissioner, but Babs tried not to overthink it. It was a party— something fancier than the annual Policeman's ball but hopefully not as awkward as a Gotham Academy Formal.

When they got there, it was a mess. Mostly adults, already taking advantage of the open bar and lack of more than three kids. She mentally sighed, watching her cousin's girlfriend practically dive into the crowd.

"You know," James said, leaning closer. "I heard Bruce Wayne's here tonight."

Babs tensed, nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to stay calm. "He's probably enjoying the chaos."

Just because his dad was there, Dick didn't necessarily have to be. She remembers him once saying he hated to stuffy balls and galas. Said it was all old ladies pinching his cheeks and saying how much he'd grown.

The costume ball seemed nothing like the boring events he'd described.

Squeezing her shoulder once, James disappeared into the crowd with an easy grin, as though he hadn't just dropped a bomb on Barbara.

She gravitated towards the nearest table, slumping in the seat. The lights were dimmed and the music was loud— something felt weird about the situation. Lex Luthor was nowhere to be seen, though she doubted he attended most of his parties. The bald-headed Superman-hater gave off more of a Gatsby vibe; throwing the party to show off all his riches without actually being apart of the party.

She looked around the scene, eyes searching for Lois Lane. Only Lois Lane. She wouldn't look for Dick buttface the third because he was a jerk who—

Who was kissing Jenny Addams?

Barbara felt— she felt—

She didn't know how she felt. Dick— she'd been mad at him for so long because he pretended to be her friend, just like everyone else. Because he wouldn't leave her alone— because he kept spamming her with bullshit apologies.

Because she thought he was better than that.

And she had felt bad for a while, too. She didn't like making people feel bad, even jerks who totally deserved it. It just made her feel bad and them feel bad and most of the time it wasn't worth it.

But clearly Dick didn't feel bad. Not at all. He was just perfect. Probably breathless because he hadn't come up for air in—

Standing, Barbara stormed out the doors.

__

It took Barbara nearly an hour to get back to Somerset. She had texted James after a while, letting him know she wasn't feeling well and left early. It wasn't really a lie. Seeing Dick suck face made her want to hurl.

Six subway stops later, she was following her phone's GPS back towards her house, wanting the quickest way back. All she wanted was to curl up in a ball and sleep for the next week.

"Stop— stop it!"

Babara's head whipped up from her phone, eyes straining to see in the darkness of Gotham. The costume's cape billowed around her in the wind, purple glinting in the moonlight. A flash of silver caught her eyes and then she made out two figures in the alleyway.

A smart person would turn and walk away. She was tired and just a kid, no real experience fighting off the mats. 

But, the woman was screaming for help and Babs had some anger she needed to expel.

Launching forward, she tackled the guy to the ground, fist colliding with his jaw. The leather gloves she wore did little to soften the blow, but the large figure still flipped her off of him, both rolling to stand. She fell into ready position easily, fists high and feet spread. This was just like the spars in the dojo— except, the guy was a lot bigger than the teenagers she usually fought with and he had a knife Babs had only just noticed.

Using one hand to hold the knife away from her, she rammed her hand hard against his forearm, his fingers losing their grip and the blade falling to the ground. Punching him square in the jaw, Barbara watched in shock as he crumpled to the ground unconscious. Blinking, she reached for the thin rope hanging from her fake utility belt, tying his wrists tightly.

Standing, Babs turned towards the crying lady, surprised she hadn't run off. Her bracelet was broken on the ground, but other than that, she seemed . . . fine. A little hysterical, but fine.

"What— who— " The woman gasped, looking her up and down.

Barbara felt good— the summertime high she'd been on seemed like nothing compared to the adrenaline rushing through her. She opened her mouth to respond, about to answer the woman when her phone went off.

COMMISH

The Commissioner was texting, asking where she was. She never told him she was going to the party— figured she'd be back before he even got home. But now— now, she had knuckles that were surely going to bruise and a woman was crying in front of her. If she told him what happened, he'd never let her leave the house. When she was a kid, he was always preaching to her how dangerous it was to be a vigilante— to run from danger, not towards it. Granted, her stopped caring so much about what Barbara did in the past few years, but still. Barbara Gordon stopping a robbery wouldn't stay secret long.

Good thing she wasn't dressed like Barbara Gordon at the moment. The purple grease paint around her eyes suddenly felt like a really good idea.

"Who are you?" The woman breathed more evenly now, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"I'm just, uh . . . a friend?" She winced internally, feeling like she'd just quoted the worst action movie of the decade.

The sound of sirens rang out in the distance, maybe five blocks away. She winced— the costume might've fooled the scared woman, but she doubted the cops wouldn't recognize her.

"I, uh, I've gotta go." She explained badly, double-checking that the thin nylon once apart of her costume was holding the crook in place. "Sorry about your necklace!"

She ran down the alleyway, ducking around a corner and down the street. She was close enough to her house to make it before the cops could even get a statement from the woman. Babs had gotten away.

Gotten away. God, she sounded like a criminal.

Criminal.

She'd just stopped a crime! Saved some woman! She was a savior!

It felt pretty great.

[copperbadge]

Took a little break from posting but I'm currently on my way back from Kimball to Belmont which will finish out the Brown Line. Had my second shortest transfer, 59 seconds, going between trains.

If I can get a Purple line express to Howard from Belmont I can ride it all the way to terminus at Linden and then back to Howard. The Yellow is only a 20 minute round trip in theory so a full run is looking more likely. I need to see how often the purple runs south from Linden.

Apologies for the spam btw, I know a lot of this means nothing to anyone outside Chicago, but it is helping to keep me mindful of the route and keep a record of my journey. You guys would not believe the fucking spreadsheet I've got going.

Hello again, loop!

The pink line left me at Clark and Lake and I booked it around the corner to the Brown, but I knew from the timetable I wouldn't have time to stop at an actual store or fast food joint -- I mean, I could have, there was another train coming in ten minutes, but it was only sporting to try and catch the first one.

I did have time to stop at a vending machine in the station, OR SO I THOUGHT, but it took forever to vend and when it did it didn't give me the water I asked for. It gave me a Mountain Dew.

A little souvenir I suppose. A Dewvenir.

Anyway that stuff is undrinkable so I gave it to a kid on the platform and hopped on the train. I'm bound around the loop to Kimball, then backtracking to Belmont where I'll catch the Red Line to Howard, the northernmost point I'm going unless the purple line is running by the time I get there. I might end up acing a full run today, remains to be seen. I'm currently two hours ahead of schedule and if my calculations are right for the rest of the trip (a big if) I could finish the planned run in ten hours total.

[ID: three images. The first shows a view of the Chicago river from the train, with the Merchandise Mart building on the far side and boats on the river. The second image is looking down Wells Street, showing storefronts, the elevated train tracks, and a bank of rentable bicycles. The third image is taken on the Washington/Wells platform and shows a train across from me; in the foreground is a bottle of green Mountain Dew.]