#but anyway very exciting that i solved a cryptic for the first time! maybe now i can get past my mental block about them
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i completely solved a cryptic crossword for the first time the other day! this is huge for me because i've always been so annoyed by them lol. but i kinda get it now, it is very satisfying to figure them out.
that said, there are several answers where i still do not totally understand the clues. if anyone who is familiar with cryptics (sometimes just called "crosswords" outside of the US) wants to help me out, i'd be very interested to hear your take!
this cryptic was in the 2022 puzzle mania edition of the nyt (released at the very end of the year), so if you are planning to solve it and haven't yet, i guess don't read this? lol. since i waited five months to do it i feel like that will apply to no one, but just in case.
i realized after drafting this post that the answer key is available online (here), but it did not actually answer my questions in every case, so i've kept my original text but added the answer key answer after each one in case it makes more sense to you than it does to me.
13A. Has misgivings about deception to an auditor (4): RUES. so "has misgivings about" is the definition of "rues". but i don't know what "deception to an auditor" is doing. could it have something to do with the fact that "rues" is a homonym and anagram of "ruse", a kind of deception? but i still can't figure out what "to an auditor" is for.
the answer key gives "homophone ruse" for this, so i guess i was right about the deception part, but i still don't get the auditor thing.
14A. A con almost grabs actor's awards left unbalanced (10): ASYMMETRIC. so EMMYS is hidden backwards in "asymmetric", which takes care of "actor's awards" and "left", and "asymmetric" means "unbalanced", i guess. so that leaves "A con almost grabs", along with the A and TRIC of the answer. i can't figure out how to make those relate to each other.
answer key says "a(symmE)trick – k (rev. Emmys)". fuck does that mean?? why are we subtracting the k? and i'm still not really sure what the con is there for?
26A. Concentrate for spare and strike (5): THINK. "concentrate" is the definition of "think". what is the "for spare and strike" doing??
answer key: "thin + K". okay i see how thin = spare but wherefore this K? does K stand for strike in baseball? that sounds vaguely familiar...
28A. African country returned Los Angeles family inheritance (7): SENEGAL. senegal is an african country, and it's also an anagram of angeles. i'm guessing the "returned" is a clue for the anagram? but what is "family inheritance" for? oh wait, senegal backwards is LA genes!! but then is it just a coincidence that "angeles" anagrams to "senegal", or is that indicated in the clue somewhere???
answer key: "rev. L.A. + genes". okay so it does sound like angeles being an anagram of senegal is a coincidence, or at least not covered in the clue?? seems like a missed opportunity but what do i know.
5D. Largely moderate Arizona city (5): TEMPE. tempe is a city in arizona. what's "largely moderate" doing here?
answer key: "temper – r". am i to understand that this is saying moderate = temper and the "largely" part of the clue is telling me to keep most but not all of "temper"?
#the big-ass american crossword was not that interesting i'm sorry to say. the actual solving was too easy and the logistics were#very annoying. it was so huge (four newspaper pages & almost 800 answers) i had to do it on the floor#which was uncomfortable#and looking up each clue in the list took so long because there were so many#i was interested to see how long it would take so i timed myself and it took me 2h04 (though it felt like it took 10 hours#based on how sore my neck and back and legs were lol)#and i could have finished in under 2 hours but i didn't realize that i didn't have to do anything special with the super mega words#in order to solve the crossword. like i figured out what the words were but putting them together according to the instructions#is only necessary for solving the metapuzzle and so could be done separately. so i wasted a few minutes trying to do that#the other puzzles were p cool except the word search bugged me for reasons that were mostly the fault of my own poor planning#but psy is a one-named singer!! so technically there were 8 one-named singers not 7!!!#i actually haven't solved the metapuzzle final answer yet#i have all but one of the letters but then they have to be put in order and i have no ideas for what the order is supposed to be#cruciverbs#my posts#but anyway very exciting that i solved a cryptic for the first time! maybe now i can get past my mental block about them
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☆ミ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 23: PRETTY BOY
emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.
─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.
author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!
ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).
You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.
The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.
Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.
In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.
noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T
yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me
feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(
You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.
“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.
why does she sound like goofy
The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.
pack it up yandere simulator
idk whats going on but i think im into it?
villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC
“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”
More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”
“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”
“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”
“SD-what now?” Dream questions.
“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”
“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”
“Guess, Sherlock.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.
“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”
“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.
“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.
Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.
“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”
If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.
“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.
“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.
Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”
i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me
^already too late for me bro
As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.
Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.
He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”
He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.
“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”
“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”
“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.
“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.
“HEY!”
“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.
Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.
Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!
“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.
“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.
“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”
Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.
“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”
Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”
“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”
“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”
“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”
“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”
“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.
“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”
“You were not--”
“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”
“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”
“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.
Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”
“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.
BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!
Your fishnets have a point!
“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.
“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.
“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”
“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”
“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”
“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”
“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”
“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”
“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”
“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.
“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.
“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.
“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”
NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK
MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T
“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”
“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”
“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”
“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”
finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for
i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)
the bis won
“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”
“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”
Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”
“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”
“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.
“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”
“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.
“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”
Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.
You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.
That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.
“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”
“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”
“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.
“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”
“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”
“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”
“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!
“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”
Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”
“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”
“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.
“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”
“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”
A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.
“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”
He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.
y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards
Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.
“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”
“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”
“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.
“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”
“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”
“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.
“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.
“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.
“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.
“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.
In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.
“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”
“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).
yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder
queen stop its embarrassing
bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3
More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.
The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.
it’s happening!!!!
omg omg omg omg
VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC
You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”
pack it up light yagami
this has awoken something in me.
^ same
The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.
Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.
It’s a knife.
In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.
Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.
Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.
So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.
“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.
You grin, “I was looking for something.”
Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.
“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.
“A knife.”
“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.
i love women
if evil bad...why seggy?
You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.
You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”
“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.
“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”
“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”
“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.
hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom
hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly
mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn
Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.
You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”
“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”
“Is it because you’re bald?”
“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.
You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.
You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.
“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”
You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.
“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.
“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.
“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.
“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”
“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.
“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.
Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.
“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.
“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.
only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3
corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever
the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite
“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.
You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”
“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.
“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”
“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.
“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.
You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.
“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”
“No fucking clue.”
“Y/n?” She tries again.
“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”
“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.
Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.
You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.
“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”
“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”
You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”
“SHIT!”
Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”
“I’m not Impostor!”
“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”
They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.
“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”
“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”
“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’d never do that, baby.”
Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.
“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”
Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”
“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”
“Holy shit.”
“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.
“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.
“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.
“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.
“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”
“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”
“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”
Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”
“No, she does.” James chimes.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”
More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.
Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
#corpse husband#corpse#corpse husband x reader#corpse x reader#corpse social media au#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband fic#corpse husband social media au#social media au#myso#make you say oh#quackity#dream smp#corpse x y/n#imagine#imagines#reader#xreader
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pretty please
is this thing on? anyways this is my first time posting writing on tumblr in like. 3 years so pls be nice!
a/n: ray is walking around looking like That all the time and she’s had enough of it. 18+ (reposting because tumblr did me dirty and blackballed me?)
He was stuck in her mind today, well, if she were to be completely honest, at this point he lingered in the nooks and crannies of her brain daily. It was just how annoyingly dapper he was at all times. A vest over a button down under a long trench or teasingly tight cardigan.
Or maybe it was that smooth but subtly rough Geordie accent of his. Perhaps the thing that drove her the most mad about him was his demeanor-the togetherness. Never a hair out of place, beard always trimmed in shape. He never spoke unless it was necessary, carried out his actions with precision. Fuck, it was everything about him.
She placed the glass into the tray to join its other overpolished counterparts. And then she picked up a tinier one. A little hair of the dog would hopefully ease the tension she felt mounting between her shoulders among more southern regions of her frame.
“A bit early for that, isn’t it?”
When she first started tending the bar at Mickey’s place, his silent method of entry often made her leap like an Olympic high jumper. It took her awhile to realize that he never used the front entrance equipped with the bell like everyone else. Why would he when his position outranked all but the boss himself?
“I don’t know, Ray. Five o’clock and all that nonsense.” Her words dripped with irritation.
Ray didn’t neglect to notice her tone, he never did. She was sure that he had a mental tally going on of how many days it’s been since her attitude had become sour towards him. That hamster wheel turned and churned, she saw it behind his hybrid blue/green eyes as he adjusted his glasses.
“Right. I think I’ll have one as well then.” He slid his coat-the dark blue one that made her picture many scenarios, all of them dirty-off.
She cocked a brow.
“A lady should never drink alone.” The corner of his mouth ticked upwards. Smiling now, are we? It must be her lucky day.
Her back turned to him, only to find that pretentiously expensive scotch she knew he favored so much. Coaster, glass, and a slow pour of two fingers. She did the same in another glass, actually excited to see what all the hype was about.
“Cheers to company.” Her teeth flashed as the crystals clinked off one another.
Oh how it burned on the way down, and joined the molten pit already bubbling in her abdomen. Her palms pressed onto the slick wood of the bar as she watched Ray enjoying his sip as if it was going to be his last. In his line of work she guessed that was possible.
“So, where’s Big M?” She hated breaking the silence, but feared if she didn’t he’d hear her blood rushing as loudly as she did.
Ray blinked before bringing his gaze to meet hers, “Meeting. He sent me here to talk to you, actually.”
The sound she made was somewhat the mixture of an exhale and a wheezing laugh. Her inability to conceal her emotions was why she would only ever be a part of the legitimate side of the business.
“I can’t imagine what for.” She took to busying herself again before her throat let out a dolphin call or something.
“He seems to think I did something to make you crossed with me.” The barstool groaned as he relieved it of his weight.
Hamster wheel. If she didn’t know him any better, she’d think that he was on a fishing expedition. However, Ray was nothing if not a straight shooter. That actually made this encounter that much more embarrassing, now having the knowledge that even Mickey had picked up on her...mood.
“You haven’t done anything to upset me.” Her eyes shut for a moment. Good god, it was ridiculously warm. She lightly fanned herself with a spare coaster.
“I know, but you’ve been treating me as if I have. Why?” Ray pressed, a hand coming up to run along his beard.
Fuck off Raymond, you know why. It was so close to spilling from the edge of her tongue. Her chest heaved with the effort it took her not to scream those words into his face. Instead, she set her jaw and looked at him dead on.
“Misplaced annoyance, I’m sorry.” She even batted her lashes for the cherry on top.
Ray finished his scotch, and rounded the bar. Her heart rate suddenly felt like it did in those last few minutes of that spin class she took one time. He ran his thumb over his bottom lip, walking until he stood directly in front of her.
She took one step back, he took one forward. He led the dance until there was no more room, and then placed his hands on either side of her body on the bar behind it. Jesus Christ, did he always smell as good as he did today? She wanted his scent on her pillows, under her duvet, on her-
“I was asking as a formality, but since you insist on lying, you leave me no choice.” Ray looked down at her.
“No choice? Can you not be so cryptic for one minute?” She surprised herself with the witty response.
Apparently, he hadn’t calculated that in his master plan either. His expression shifted from professional poker player to white guy blinking meme, only for a split second before he regained his composure.
A low sound came from his throat as he moved his hand to trail up her arm. She couldn’t contain the shudder that followed, or the gasp that came next as his finger brushed her neck. Whatever strength she had left, she used it to refrain from whimpering when his knuckles brushed across her warm cheekbone.
“Look at you,” Ray whispered. “You’re falling apart.”
“Case solved, I guess.” She shrugged.
He must’ve had enough of her smart mouth. Ray dipped his head to catch her lips between his. She inhaled deeply, chest rising to press against his as she cupped his face. They stayed there for a moment. From her perspective she was in shock, relieved, and worried that he would regret it all and pull away.
Then his tongue swiped against her bottom lip, and it was like her soul had an orgasm. Sweet vindication. She knew deep down that the tension wasn’t one sided, after all, that was the very nature of it. A band had to be stretched in both directions for it to reach a point of tautness. The energy she gave him was merely of reflection of his.
She opened her mouth to give him full access and was immediately rewarded for it. Ray spread a large hand across the small of her back, bringing her closer to him as his tongue did a dangerous dance with hers. She writhed against him, muscles coiled tightly, desperate for release.
“Please.” Her voice was thick.
“Tell me.” He kissed the edge of her mouth, her cheek, the shell of her ear.
In between moans she managed to respond, “I want you to take these stupid clothes off, and touch me.”
Ray caught her lips in a searing kiss again as his hands settled on her ass. He gathered the fabric of her mid length dress up until the material was balled into his fists. Their tongues took a break from grinding against one another’s for him to lift the dress over her head and discard it off to the side.
Her bare nipples stood to attention, something he noticed immediately. He rolled the left bud between his index finger and thumb coaching a curse out of her. The same was repeated with the right, leaving her breathless. He abandoned them to kneel before her, fingers hooking into either side of her underwear. As painfully slow as he could, Ray slid the cotton down her legs until it pooled around her ankles. She not so unhurriedly kicked them aside.
He made a small noise of amusement before tossing her left leg over his shoulder. She gasped, gripping the edge of the counter to steady herself. Ray dragged two fingers along her swollen, soaking core. That was the only warning she received before he plunged them into her and curled them.
“Fuck!” Her hips bucked.
“Is this what you wanted?” He spoke clearly, as if he was unaffected by the fact that he was knuckle deep in her.
Her juices spilled out of her and onto said knuckles as he drove his digits into her at an increasing pace. She dropped her head back, lost in the lewd sounds filling the room and the sensation of his fingers sliding against her walls.
“I want more.” She whined.
Ray’s beard tickled the thigh that was slung over his shoulder as he gave it a small kiss. He worked his way up until his lips closed around her clit. Her eyes took a tour of her skull, a hand reaching to thread through his hair.
He continued to drive his index and middle fingers out of her at a steady rhythm. It never let up as his tongue ran circles around and over her sensitive bud, lapping up her fluids. Her stomach clenched, and clenched. Oxygen began to feel scarce as her chest tightened.
“Go ahead.” Ray’s voice was like another caress on top of everything.
And then she let it all out. With a cry she was sure could be heard down the street, she came on his face. Her grip tightened on his hair as she rode out her release, thrusting her hips with each wave of pleasure that slammed into her.
She slumped with the last surge. Ray pulled his fingers out of her, and dipped them into her mouth. Her eyes never left his as she sucked off every remnant there was of her on them. He then raised her from her feet and placed her on the edge of the bartop.
Finally, he began to get rid of the way too many layers of clothing he had on. The grey vest was the first to go, followed shortly by his tie. By the time he unbuttoned his shirt she was basically salivating, which only intensified once she saw what he had been hiding under there all this time. She knew he was fit but goddamn, her imagination didn’t come close.
Ray discarded his pants and boxers in one go, his thick cock standing to attention right beneath his navel. She couldn’t help but reach out to take it into her palm, giving it a few good tugs. He groaned under her touch, and tilted her head up so that their lips could meet again.
She pressed her forehead to his, breaking the kiss to look between their bodies as she lined him up with her entrance. Ray pushed forward inch by inch, hands moving to rest on her hips. The stretch was that perfect balance of pain and pleasure, a delicious burn.
When he finally bottomed out, her ankles crossed behind his hips, locking him there. He might’ve been the epitome of control on the outside, but his breath came out in struggling puffs. It tickled her lips as he deliberately withdrew his length all the way to the tip, and slid back into her once more.
Ray repeated the motion, keeping his thrusts slow and deep. Her toes followed the curve of his backside, fingers pressing into his shoulders with increasing force. She drove her hips forward, matching the tempo he set, eyes still trained on the place where their bodies met.
“Christ, you feel amazing.” He grunted.
She nipped at his bottom lip before swiping her tongue over it, and into his mouth. Her walls began to constrict around him, forcing him to pick up the pace. It wasn’t long before the carefully crafted performance became lost to passion and raw lust.
He drove into her relentlessly, and she fucked him back just as feverishly. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding tight in anticipation of the orgasm she felt mounting. With a few more snaps of his hips she was a writhing, crying mess.
Ray pushed on, gaining speed and extending the trembling that overcame her from head to toe. He dropped his head onto her shoulder, small moans passing his lips as he started to let up. A stagger, and another, and then he was emptying everything he had into her.
His hips bucked and came to a halt, leaving them both panting and heaving. She stroked his hair as she floated back down to earth, her body feeling used in the most satisfying way. It hit her after a few moments of holding him that they really just did that. They had sex in their bosses bar in the middle of the day.
“I should probably,” She pulled back just enough to look at him. “You know, clean all this up.”
“Right.” He smiled, a full one too at that.
They gathered up their clothing, and maneuvered to the back where they arguably ought to have been. She washed up first in the restroom, making sure she looked somewhat presentable though that freshly fucked look was one that only went away with time.
While he got himself together, she made her way back to the front to straighten up and disinfect. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea that they did what they did because now whenever she came to work it would be all she could think about.
“I’ve got to meet up with Mickey, but I can pick you up later.” Ray exited the back looking as sharp as he did when he entered the bar.
“Uh...sure? Okay.” She nodded more than necessary.
“Great,” The bell dinged as he pulled the door. “I make a great Wagyu steak.”
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Your time warp love triangle headcanons for KH were great! Could we maybe get something similar for Chocobros? Like a time warp where their main game selves and their older selves after the 10 year gap end up in the same universe, and they are both falling for the same person. If you have time or are interested it would be cool to see for Ardyn or Ravus too, but no pressure. Your stuff is great!!!
Ardyn and Ravus are two of my favorites I’ll always have time for those jerks lol. For the Bros, I’ll do Main game and after the game ends and the world is saved; Ravus gets slightly Pre-Game and Post-Worldsaving; for Ardyn, I’ll do main game and his past self from before everything went to hell.
Noctis
Both of them are really surprised, but like... Very lowkey about it
Older!Noctis is probably more surprised than Main!Noctis. If only because, well, Older!Noctis knows that this guy is him from the past - Main!Noctis can at least try to convince himself it’s just a dude who looks really similar, or something
Older!Noctis explains himself to Main!Noctis though. There’s... Some awkward silence afterwards, because how do you react to meeting your future/past self??
Problem with wooing you here is... Neither Noctis is really all that skilled at it. He hasn’t really been all that interested in dating so far, so has pretty much no experience whatsoever
He knows the theory, sure, and he’s usually somewhat okay at human interaction in general... But dating?
Main!Noctis actually tries asking Older!Noctis for advice but. Older!Noctis really does not know any more than Main!Noctis does.
The first few dates are kinda... Awkward simply because of that. They’re pretty standard in a way; restaurant, maybe the cinema, etc. (Older!Noctis is more likely to pick a restaurant as the go-to spot, Main!Noctis more likely to take the cinema)
Until they relax a bit more about the whole thing, at least. The dates are still nice, since Noctis is a nice person, they just felt kinda stiff. But once they relax a little and basically throw out the script? Much nicer
Main!Noctis, for example, would totally invite you to just literally take a nap together. Or play games together. Stuff like that. Maybe even take you fishing.
Older!Noctis is more likely to suggest going for a walk or, again, take you fishing (He’s been in the dark for a while, so he kinda wants to go see the world with the sun up again)
When you pick one of them, the other one will accept it and wish you good luck, but probably leave. He might text occasionally, though
Ignis
Well. Seeing himself with those scars is… Unsettling.
Main!Ignis is very tempted to ask, but on the other hand not quite sure whether he wants to know.
He does decide to ask in the end; maybe knowing can help him avoid it? And Older!Ignis is perfectly willing to answer. Again, maybe if he knows early enough, some things can be changed.
Next question is what they should do about the fact that they’ve both fallen for you
They come to the conclusion that it should be your decision, obviously, and that they’re not really into the idea of really competing against each other
So instead, they both kinda just... Hang out with you. They’re both a bit more thoughful and/or romantic than they’d be with their friends (They might bring you flowers from time to time, for example), but other than that, don’t really ask you out on a date
(Pro of this situation: You get tons of amazing food because you’re hanging out with two great cooks!)
After a while, they confess to you that they’ve both fallen for you, though they assure you you don’t need to make a decision in any way now
By the time you do decide, you’re such a close-knit group anyway that not much changes. The Ignis you didn’t pick just takes it in stride, though he might try to get some distance for a while.
But you still hang out all together, and both Ignises still get along really well
Prompto
????????
First of all, super confused to be seeing… Himself. Crushing on the same person. What???
Y’all know that Spiderman meme? That’s exactly what they look like the first time they spot each other
They’re both sad they have competition in general (Despite being a total cutie, neither Prompto is all too experienced when it comes to wooing anyone), but at least the competition is only, well, himself.
It’s weird, sure, but Prom feels like he’s got much better chances against himself than he would against, say, Gladio
Both would have their go-to solution be asking Noctis (or one of the other Chocobros) to be a wingman... But how exactly are they supposed to decide who to help?? They’re technically both Prompto, right?
(They’d help the one whose time they’re in - If Older!Prom ended up in the Main time, we’d have Main!Bros helping Main!Prompto. If Main!Prompto got thrown into the future, the Older!Bros would help Older!Prom)
They don’t want to make their friends choose like this. Which means they’re on their own.
They won’t explain stuff unless you ask.
“Why does he look so similar to you?” - “Would you believe if I told you he’s me from the past/future?”
Their way of wooing you is pretty similar (Up to the point that the first idea pf both for asking you out is suggesting a nice photo shoot!). Sure, Older!Prompto is a bit more mature while Main!Prompto is a bit more excitable, but at their core, they’re obviously still the same person.
Regardless of who you pick, the other is willing to hang around as a friend, if you want to. Sure, it hurts to see you in a relationship, but at least you’re happy (and it’s technically still a relationship with him, which is... Nice, he guesses?)
Gladio
Huh, so he got some new scars, but other than that, he didn’t change that much
Both Gladios are somewhat competitive, so they decide they’ll just… Both try to impress you, and then let you choose
For fairness’s sake, Main!Gladio sticks to his shirtless look while Older!Gladio wears his Kingsglaive outfit, so you can easily distinguish them
And, well… Then they come up with cool stuff to impress you with.
Sometimes it’s literal competitions against each other, like armwrestling, or just generally showing off their skills and strength
But other times, they try going a more romantic route, like bringing you flowers etc
Both Gladios really enjoy dragging the other one when they’re with you, but in a rather friendly teasing way
“That kid, huh? Thinks he’s so hot with his shirtless look…”
“Well, he still looks pretty nice, I guess… For a grandpa”
At times, you might wonder if they actually want you to choose, since they are kinda having fun with their competition
They’ll both accept your choice, regardless of whom you end up choosing; the other one may stick around, or may not, but either way it’s no big deal
Ravus
Past!Ravus is somewhat disturbed by his lack of arm
That’s. That’s a pretty big change.
Other than that, while he’s surprised, he doesn’t really show it. The two of them do stare at each other for a while though.
When it comes to wooing you, they decide to just treat each other like a stranger. They do talk occasionally - Especially since Past!Ravus is really really curious what happened to his arm (Though Future!Ravus only gives cryptic answers) - But never about you
(The whole situation is just... Too weird otherwise)
So it’s not a direct competition; they don’t try to one-up the other one, for example. It’s just... Two very very similar guys both asking you out on dates.
Once you choose one, the other one will take a step back, but won’t leave completely; he may text you occasionally, and you might meet up from time to time, but he’s basically just an acquaintance
Ardyn
Well, at first, Past!Ardyn is mostly very curious - This is his future self, right? So he’s curious to hear what Present!Ardyn has to tell him
Until they get too close to each other
Now, Past!Ardyn is no stranger to the Starscourge; he’s marked by it, too. But that’s no comparison to Present!Ardyn.
Past!Ardyn actually flinches back at first. He doesn’t want to - in a way, Present!Ardyn seems just like another lost soul to be saved, like the other people he’s healed before - but there’s just so much dark energy emanating from him
Present!Ardyn chuckles and pretends to find Past!Ardyn’s reaction amusing. In truth, it hurts, deeply. It’s a reminder how deep he’s fallen, how deep the Gods let him fall, made him fall
Before that, Past!Ardyn tbh wasn’t sure how they should solve the whole thing. He’s never been in competition with, well, himself. And now he’s… Even less sure
See, on one hand, Present!Ardyn seems kinda threatening - That’d mean Past!Ardyn should try to woo you first. But on the other hand, Past!Ardyn has no idea how or why he ended up like this. What if you’re in even more danger with him, considering Present!Ardyn at least seems able to control his Starscourge? Or maybe they both should leave you alone in this case?
Present!Ardyn gladly uses the time Past!Ardyn spends doubting himself to chat you up.
That at least removes the last option. And Past!Ardyn does, in the end, decide to try and woo you himself. It’s still possible for him to avoid whatever fate had befallen Present!Ardyn, and Past!Ardyn doesn’t quite trust his future self
Despite being the same person (Ignoring that Present!Ardyn is kinda 1000 demons in a trenchcoat but shh xD) their ways of approaching you are very different
Present!Ardyn is very, very charming. There’s always a little hint of danger underneath, sure, but it’s hard to notice if you aren’t paying very close attention - And even then, who’s to say that feeling is right? He behaves like the perfect gentleman, after all.
Past!Ardyn knows what he’s doing, too, but he does seem a bit rough around the edges at times. Not necessarily in a bad way, either; it makes the whole thing feel very genuine.
It’d be rare to see them both together; they both have their reasons for staying away from the other one as good as they can
Past!Ardyn is, truth be told, somewhat scared of Present!Ardyn. Not much, but seeing himself like this is just unsettling
Meanwhile, Present!Ardyn hates being reminded that he wasn’t always like this. That there was a time when he still had genuine smiles, when all he wanted to do was help people, when he wasn’t more demon than man… But that time is long gone
Past!Ardyn might actually try to warn you about Presen!Ardyn. Not with the full details (yet), but a general warning that he isn’t quite who he appears to be
If you choose Past!Ardyn, Present!Ardyn will surprise probably everyone - mostly himself - and just leave you two alone. He doesn’t quite get why, but… As much as he’d love to be the one who’s with you, he also doesn’t want to hurt you. So he accepts your decision and leaves.
If you choose Present!Ardyn, Past!Ardyn will probably still hang around as a friend.
In either case (in the first one especially if you have grown fond of Present!Ardyn), given some time, Past!Ardyn will probably try to find a way to help Present!Ardyn with his, um, little Starscourge problem. After all, that’s what healers do
(It’s uncanny as heck for them to work together, though, and neither particularly enjoys the other’s company, but they can deal with it if there’s a good enough reason)
#Final Fantasy XV#Final Fantasy XV Headcanon#Chocobros#Ardyn Izunia#Ravus Nox Fleuret#sfw#Look at me making Ardyn's part ridiculously long lol#I love that jerk with all my heart#Not as much as I love my sunshine boy Prompto#But still a lot#FFXV Spoilers
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DOG DAYS ARE OVER : CHAP 7
Pairing : Jake Kiszka x reader
Genre : College AU
Previous parts : Prologue ; Chap 1 ; Chap 2 ; Chap 3 ; Chap 4 ; Chap 5 ; Chap 6
Masterlist : here
AN : You’re so gonna hate me for the ending. And the twins are Taurus just like me so I based some of their personality traits after some knowledge I have of our zodiac sign... I’m writing part 10 atm ! Please feel free to message me or tell me what you thought of this part! I can’t say it enough, thanks for the love and support ! Each week I’m more excited to post the new chapter.
Chapitre 7 : Won't you come over ?
Replying to Jake's texts after what had happened felt wrong, but I couldn't leave him on read. Our relationship was great so far and I couldn't sabotage it for a misunderstanding with Josh. What I could do, on the other hand, was talking to Josh. So I started testing the waters when I met Jake in front of the school the next morning. It was the last day we were giving out flyers. The festival was coming soon and then we were all on Christmas holidays so we had to give as much as we could today. It was exhausting but every minute spent with the brunette was worth of everything else.
- Just ask.
We were both quiet before he spoke out of the blue, leaving me confused. Did I think out loud ?
- I can see there's something bothering you, he said without looking at me. Shoot.
With a defeated sigh, I let myself slouch, taking a break from our activity. Jake did the same, sitting on a step and gesturing for me to join him. Not many people wandered outside at this time of the year, and the stone was so cold under my butt I felt a shiver run down my spine. A few more minutes sitting there and it'll get anesthetized. Jake must've caught it because he gently rubbed my back in a vain attempt to keep me warm. I couldn't feel it through all the layers of clothing I had on my back but it felt good nonetheless. His caring attitude always succeeded in making me feel better.
- Have you heard anything from Josh ?, I asked tentatively.
The boy next to me raised his eyebrows in a knowing way before interrupting his back rubs, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and politely offering me one. He lit his own when I declined his offer, and took his time blowing the smoke in the air before answering me.
- Not after his lunch extravaganza from yesterday.
The choice of words made me wince a bit. He didn't sound as patient as he had been the day before.
- I don't know what got into him, admitted Jake while admiring the park before us. He wouldn't talk to me when I got in our room after school, so we just kept silent. He can be very stubborn and never explains what upsets him, expecting you to guess. I tend to be the same, so I know it'll pass. Don't you worry about it.
Even if Jake's advice was to let it be, it bothered me too much to just wait for things to become less awkward again. Was it really siblings' rivalry ? I couldn't tell. And as much as I understood and respected Josh's choice of not wanting to adress the issue, it wouldn't solve anything at all. I couldn't possibly just sit here and wait for him to come talk to us. What if he did that with every little things we did that upset him ? We had to talk it out.
It was now my time to admire the scenery in front of us. The peacefulness of it calmed me a bit. When all the students were already lining in front of their classrooms, the quiet melody of the wind brushing the trees' leaves accompanying Jake's soft inhaling sounds put me at ease. The singular smell of tobacco didn't threw me off, in fact it mixed weirdly well with Jake's perfume. There was something very him in that mix. Tobacco, shampoo, incense, and something that I could only describe as his scent. Something I'd love to make a scented candle of. Sometimes, after spending entire hours together, I could smell it on my coat, or hair, and at times like these I'd smile to myself thinking how it'd be nice to sleep on his shirt, to bath on his scent.
- Mama are you listening ?
- I'm sorry, what ?
Daydreaming of him when he was just a few inches near made me embarrassed enough for my cheeks to turn pink and my voice to crack a little. As someone who tended to be lost in his thoughts a good portion of the time he didn't take offense in it and got on his feet, repeating the part I missed.
- I said you must be real popular because half of the flyers were taken by the Illustration Department.
Always the polite one, Jake offered his hand to help me get up and I took it this time, enjoying the light squeeze of his fingers under mine as he got me on my feet.
- Not really. But I manage to get along with everybody, curiously so.
- I don't think that is.
The brunette spoke seriously, stuffing his cold hands in his pockets as he lead the way to the nearest entrance. Can't say I was a fan of cryptic messages but I couldn't bring myself to ask him for precisions either. Truth to be told, deep down I understood the subtle praise but acknowledging it would mean falling for him even deeper than I had already. And it scared me.
Nobody came to what Mandy had baptised The Lunch Club today. And it wasn't because of the overly obvious movie reference but simply because the four of us weren't comfortable enough to eat or even hang out together given the current situation. Josh would probably skip it because he was still upset, and getting together without him just didn't feel right. Of all things it would just prove Josh's point, if I had understood it correctly. And I would lie if I said that eating in the dorms wasn't convenient. It had a lot of advantages. First of all, the heater. Comfort. And actual warm food.
Mandy came back from the workshop just as I was making pasta, already exhausted and looking like she didn't have a proper night of sleep in days.
- Are you alright ?
- I'm so tired you have no idea, I worked all week-end to finish a stupid dress.
Poor girl, she couldn't feel her fingertips and her hands were covered in band aids. She sinked into a chair and I patted her on the back to try and bring her a little bit of comfort while she explained everything that I missed over lunch, keeping me updated. We didn't have much time to talk these last few days since we were so busy working on our assignments, and also because I went home for the week end.
- By the way, she said with a mouthful of pasta, How's Jake ?
The death glare I gave her only made her grin grow wider as she set her plate aside. To be fair maybe I owed her an explanation because she got caught in that extremely awkward Kiszka situation last time and she doesn't even know anything about it. Well, she did know a bit of it but we didn't have time to properly gossip yet.
- Well... We text sometimes and he's... I don't even know how to put it into words dude, he's dreamy.
Mandy motionned for me to give her my phone so she could look at our texts and I did. There wasn't anything private in here anyway, just friends chatting. Sometimes getting cocky. Studying her face and biting my lip, I saw her blinking a few times, opening her mouth in false shock, or whistling.
- Oh my, you guys get along, don't you ?
I shook my head in disbelief.
- We do. But there's nothing that interesting-
- Not yet, she cut me with a raised finger. But I can tell you're going there, just be patient. Or maybe be more daring, you know ? Test the waters.
Of course I took note of that. Mandy didn't seem like it but she was of very good advice (most of the time). And she had way more luck with boys that I did. Hell, she even had luck with girls. Being more daring, noted. Jake himself, without being flirty, liked to tease and wasn't afraid to sound over-confident, so being bold wouldn't do me any harm, I guess. I'll show him that two could play this game. But right now, my mind was set on something else.
- Do you know where I can find Josh ? I'd like to talk to him.
Pausing, Mandy squinted her eyes, thinking hard. Every hint was good to take, the school wasn't as big as most campuses, but there was enough students to form a small town.
- Try asking Jake ? He must know, she shrugged. Last time I met him was this saturday night, he was carrying snacks and wandering around the school in his Pjs. Man he must love those cheese balls.
Although the last sentence was more rhetorical than directed to me, it made a lightbulb lit up in my brain. Without any explanation, I put my plate in the sink, excused myself, grabed a coat, my sketchbook, and stormed out of the dorms. Saying that I was running to my destination was a bit of an overstatement, but walking very fast was an accurate description. My coat was halfway wore and hung loosely around my shoulders, allowing the cold air to caress my neck and make my skin tingle. My hair must've looked like a mess because I had tied it while cooking, and don't even get me started on my panting, lungs frozen and cold sweat running down my spine because I hurried like someone was after me. By the time I got to the vending machine near the cafeteria, there wasn't anything I wanted more than to nap right here right now. But at least, I caught Josh on time.
- We need to talk.
Was it the heavy breathing or the way my back fell completely against the candy dispenser, I didn't know, but the boy jumped, letting go of his change in the process.
- Fuck you scared me ! What the hell are you doing, surprising people like that ?
- Trying to chat with my friend.
I kept my eyes on Josh as he knelt to get his money, studying his back tense and his movements stop. The boy let out an audible sigh before raising his head to me, searching for something into my eyes, probably sincerity. He couldn't hold my gaze more than mere seconds before focusing on his candy again, and a wave of panic started hurtling my body, setting in my stomach, tying it in knots.
- I'm sorry.
It wasn't me speaking, it was Josh. The boy nervously scratched his neck, refusing to look at me.
- I shouldn't have snapped at you, it wasn't fair. It's not about siblings rivalry or anything, you know ?, he murmured while idly twiddling his bag of chips. I guess I was feeling a bit left out, got a little jealous...
His voice was barely audible now, and seeing him looking vulnerable and ashamed to admit the truth had my heart tighten.
- I can't ask of you to tell me when you text my brother, I don't have any right to do that, it's just... It was stupid, I...
- Josh, I interrupted. It's okay. I'm sorry too. We should've included you or tell you. It wasn't fair of us, and I don't want you to feel left out.
My hand found its way on his shoulder, and I felt him relax a little under the comforting touch. Maybe he knew I was being honest, because he gave a small nod and a bashful smile, a look I didn't know I'd see on his face one day. It gave me the courage to keep up my momentum.
- You know what ? Why don't you drop by our dorm after school ? We'll chat and have a drink. Just the three of us.
Mandy wasn't bothered at all my our improvised get together, on the contrary. She loved the guy, in a friendly way. We both did. When I texted her this afternoon in the workshop she got so excited she said she'll buy some beer when she got out of her lecture. Josh and I had exchanged numbers too, so all misunderstanding was clarified now, and receiving both of their overly enthusiastic texts got me in the mood too. By the time the teacher said we could pack up, I was already at the door, jumping out of my shoes and tidying the room as much as I could before Josh's visit. He needed the key to enter our building, so Mandy picked him up while I was putting some music, and both were already very loud by the time I heard them climb the stairs, laughing and exchanging jokes while carrying huge bags of booze.
- Do you know it's an honor for you to get invited to our lair ?, said Mandy as she put the beers in the fridge. You're actually the first person we ask to come over.
- Are you serious ?!, Josh inquired, pretending to be shocked. Ladies, it's an immeasurable pleasure to be your first. I'll be worthy of it, I'll behave, and you'll be so amazed by my charming self that you'll keep asking for more afterwards.
The dirty joke made us snort real loud, and even made my cheeks color, as I yelled his name, outraged by his unabashed and salacious humor, looking very proud of himself. It was something Mandy and I often used to question a few weeks ago, his flirty behaviour. And whereas we thought he was a womanizer at first, it turned out that it was just his usual self. Josh was over confident, much to handle, loud, energetic, witty, kinky, and all over the place, but damn was he right. The boy was a delight to be around. We went from cracking jokes, to confessing shameful sexual anecdotes, to having passionate conversations about the meaning of life, all the while drinking, and it was amazing and fascinating. The more time passed, the more I was sure we were gonna be long time friends, and it filled me with an indescriptible sense of bliss.
- If you’ll excuse me ladies, I have to go to the bathroom, could any of you show me the way ?
Mandy got up to accompany him to the hallway where the public toilets were, and I took the opportunity to clean the mess we made on the kitchen, putting beer cans in a plastic bag and carrying it outside, with the rest of the dorms' trash. Living in the dorms wasn't exactly what you'd call quiet, since everybody invited everybody to stay for the night, have a movie, sex, or booze. What was great, on the other hand, was all the freedom we had. We were all 18 or above, so the school let us be, not being bothered by boys and girls mixing, or what we did in here, only sending a supervisor once in a while to check for any drugs or broken stuff. In times like these... we all were in trouble. Like a shitload of trouble. It happened a few times, of course, but most of it we behaved, only throwing some parties once in a while.
I put the trash in front of the building, then got back inside, gradually hearing their loud voices giggling maniacally the more stairs I climbed. They probably had way more drinks than necessary and didn't even bother closing the door to our room, voices so heavy I could hear them clearly one floor below.
- Come on, you're telling me you girls are single ? Can't believe it.
- Do you really think we have time ?, replied Mandy incredulously. Besides, she's more into long-haired, most-of-the-time-disconnected-from-reality brunettes.
Okay. This wasn't smelling good. I had a really bad feeling about this conversation. I didn't want to believe it, but deep down I just knew where this was going. Adrenaline rushed through me when I heard Josh's confused voice so out of it he didn't understand why Mandy was being so precise, and it was even worse when I couldn't hear them at all. My shaky legs ran, leading up the stairs, nearly tripping over at the last step and turning right to enter the dorm, not even taking the time to close the already ajar door behind me. They weren't in the kitchen. Why weren't they in the kitchen ? I heard noises and a low admirative whistle in the other room, where our shared bedroom was. Oh no, no no no no no no.
- Mama you've got some real talent, said Josh while glaring at something.
Lump in my throat, I took a step forward to see what he was intently staring at, only to discover a huge painted canvas of Jake's face. My heart skipped a beat, my eyes went wide. Mouth agape, I could feel all the color leaving my face, only able to stay frozen in place, watching our guest trace the outlines of his brother's long hair on the canvas with his fingers, admiring every bump of paint, every detail of the portrait I made. Never have I been so ashamed in this moment. All I wanted was to disappear, to go far, far away. There was no way he couldn't recognize his own twin. My brain, in a last attempt to save my dignity, did the only logical think it could think of at the moment. Lie.
- Why, thank you sir, it was a lot of work. Wasn't too pleased about forgetting all my magazine pictures at home, I had to use what was left. Unfortunately, a selfie of Jake. We should avoid telling him, by the way, he'll get too cocky.
It physically hurt, lying like that. First because I was keeping this secret from Josh, and second because it wasn't true. Jake would never be my last choice, ever. And speaking foolishly about him even if he wasn't here made me feel bad. It was bullshit. It wasn't a lot of work, and I didn't have a picture to look at. All of this, I painted it using my memory, only closing my eyes and remembering the glimpses I captured of him, relishing the memories... But even if it felt wrong to lie, I just couldn't tell him the truth. It was fucking creepy, he'd probably freak out or worse, tell Jake about it. Mandy must've realized her mistake because she went very silent and didn't dare contradict me when I gave Josh that false explanation. With a bit of luck, Josh won't even remember it tomorrow.
#gvf fic#gvf x reader#gvf imagine#gvf fanfic#jake kizka x reader#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka imagine#josh kiszka fic#jake kiszka#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet imagine#greta van fleet
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The Overnight Watch
I’ve written a first part to a fanfic I’ve been wanting to write ever since the Overnight Watch stream. I haven’t written much as I focus more on drawing, but I felt like posting anyways as some of you out there might enjoy this. This is just a first chapter and the next ones will probably be shorter and more eerie, but for now I hope you enjoy! Reading in a dark room is recommended!
I included images to add to the experience.. <3
The Overnight Watch | Chapter 1
“You have been invited to participate in an interactive event organised by Jacksepticeye, will you be there?”
The mail had been sent to everyone’s inbox, but nobody within the fandom had any idea of what was going on. There had been no video, no explanation, no posts about this mysterious event, yet there it was. The biggest problem was: that was it. Just the one sentence without further details, an address or even a date, but it was sent to over 17 million people.
It didn’t take more than ten minutes for someone within the community to post on tumblr about an anomaly in the mail:
“I assume we’re all past the point of freaking out, so let’s do what we’re best at and dismantle this thing. Has anyone else noticed something off about the mail?
Look at the corner where the time is displayed of when the mail was sent. It’s not a timestamp, the numbers don’t make sense. Does anyone have any idea what it might be?
Other than that the sender’s address is fully missing and the mail was marked important without my doing. Anyone?”
The community was set on fire as per usual, but this time an unsettling feeling spread throughout the fandom. Sure, everyone was immediately thinking “Antisepticeye appearance!”, but this just seemed impossible to pull off and way too diverging from the usual pattern. Even though many dismissed it as a prank and moved on, a few individuals kept looking and replied to the thread.
“That’s strange, my mail is different, look:
The number isn’t the same. Does anyone else have a different one?”
But as the replies came in it was made clear that about half of them had received the same mail with the positive number as the other half had received the negative number.
“Anyone who’s up for solving this, join this discord, I think it’s clear that there’s more to find here.”
People from different time zones started to join the server as the noise grew with each person connecting. Theorists like these were used to the cryptic messages, the hidden codes and the zalgo text. It was almost a hobby to figure out what hints Jack had left to indicate an Anti appearance. In situations like these they would convene on a discord server, or multiple discord servers to scan through every little hint they can find.
Almost a year ago Jack had surprised them with a special stream lasting the entire time between the two charity streams they had set up. There was even a hashtag set up, so people could post their findings, this was #overnightwatch.
Everyone who participated in the stream had started calling themselves the Overnight Watch and loved it, despite the mental torture that had deprived many from their sleep. The hashtag stuck around and so did the name.
So it’s been almost a year and Anti hadn’t made an appearance yet. There have been the occasional subtle hints, but not everyone would notice them. Jack was just poking fun. The theorists believed this was part of Jack’s plan of letting the character settle for a while to come back with something bigger and better. Was this that something? A majority of the community had almost forgotten Anti was a thing at this point, so it would be ideal.
“Hello everyone, thank you for coming” a voice said as the ongoing chaos broke apart and everyone became quiet. “As you all know we received a rather strange mail today. So far we have collected the following information:
There are two different numbers where there should be a time stamp, these numbers are 51.509865 and -0.118092. Other than that the sender’s address is completely missing and the text has a few letters that seem to be marked. What are your discoveries so far?”
Not a second of silence went by as a latecomer stumbled into the channel and screamed out two words repeatedly:
“The letters! The letters! The-“
“CALM DOWN.” Two or three people yelled at once, surprised by the overwhelming excitement of the newest addition to the group. The person who acted as moderator of the whole conversation scraped her throat and gave the latecomer a chance to explain themselves.
“Alright so, the letters that are different, they are all in italic and in a very dark green colour. When you assemble the letters you have ‘v t e w l e’ which when put in order reads “twelve”. We are looking for the key elements of an event right? I think this might be the time. I’m not sure if it’s twelve AM or twelve PM though and neither do I have a time zone.”
“Interesting theory,” a different voice spoke up. “I think we can work with that as a start. We’re with 53 people here and I’m sure some of you are in connection with other theorists on different servers as well. Let’s try to figure out what these numbers might mean.”
As everyone started to work through their research, the discord server went quiet. You could almost feel the focus everyone had as they attempted to solve the puzzle. Some left the server as they had to either go to school or sleep. A mere 20 people remained, all working in silence, but the silence didn’t last long.
“Guys..?” A nervous theorists stumbled over their words.
“Yes?” the moderator replied.
“The time stamps? They’re.. they’re coordinates.”
An image was shared, it took a while to load, but when it did different sounds of shock and frustration were heard.
“It’s London..”
“Right”, the moderator collected her thoughts. “So, this thing is taking place at either midnight or lunchtime in London, presumably the local time, but that doesn’t really help us does it?”
“We still need a day and a specific location,” added another theorist. “But I think we’ve gone over everything in the mail. Not even the missing avatar has anything hidden.”
“Hold up, has anyone tried to actually respond to the mail?”
Voices started rambling through each other, which made everyone come to the conclusion nobody had come to that point yet. After furiously debating over what they should do, they decided that everyone should send a mail of their own to see what happens. But no matter what they sent, there just wouldn’t be a response, until one theorist loudly exclaimed victory.
“I did it! I just mailed ‘London’ and then the hour, kind of like I’m replying to the riddle and I got a response!”
The moderator shifted nervously on her seat, her throat felt like sandpaper: “What does it say?”
“It was an image. Let me show you. Here you go.”
Everyone went silent once more. They all knew what this was. The footage from that damned stream.
“It’s been a year, hasn’t it?” The moderator softly whispered into her microphone. “This weekend the night from Friday to Saturday. I think we’re celebrating the overnight watch.” Her eyes closely studied the picture as she recognized the cursed font they had all been screaming about each time they saw it on one of Jack’s video’s or posts.
“Time is broken”, the latecomer read out loud. “It’s all negative aswell. Are we actually going there? Like, there?”
The question lingered. Would they actually go there? Would something happen? Maybe they were taking it too far, maybe it was all a joke. Doubt made another share of the theorists leave the discord, some because they just couldn’t continue at this point, others because they didn’t believe it was a serious matter.
“I guess that makes six of us. Do you want to go through with this?” The moderator asked the remaining few. “Are we going? This Friday?”
The other five agreed, one of them lived relatively close to London, whilst the others were prepared to even fly over for this event. All of them were old enough to travel alone so if it turned out to be nothing they could always turn it into a meetup to hang out. They had been talking for over a year with all the Anti stuff going on, so they weren’t exactly strangers anymore.
“Let’s go for it.”
Friday – 5 minutes before midnight
It had been relatively quiet the days after the mail had been sent, Jack had been his usual self, posting video’s according to his schedule and nobody had mentioned the mail again.
The six theorists met up around lunchtime to spend some time together before they had to go to what they expected to be an event. It all felt surreal, but here they were, no turning back.
They were stood in front of the building and pressed the button of the intercom near the door. Instantly static began to break through the little box, followed by an almost deafening high pitched noise. As quick as it started, it stopped. The door unlocked and opened up on its own.
Hesitantly, one by one, they went inside.
“H-hello?” the moderator stepped into the front desk and looked around, but nobody was present.
Everything went dark.
The door slammed shut and nine monitors lit up in the corner.
The six theorists walked up to the monitors, displaying the same screens they had stared at all night exactly one year ago.
Except this time, they could see themselves, standing in the front desk.
Then something moved in the loading dock.
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one, two, step-
@rhi-draws-things three million years ago drew me my goatsona (goat persona) for my DnD group, and i was supposed to give her something in exchange, so uh sorry i’m late Rhi but here’s a Thing that i hope you like.
set in/based on Rhi’s excellent tmnt 2012 Fusion AU. an alternate universe where mutants have the ability to fuse with other mutants and also humans. its v good trust me.
Borne out of habit and repetition, there’s eventually a day that Mikey wanders into the barn specifically just to see Donnie, because he’s got nothing else to do and no one else he wants to talk with. Not that he really wants to talk, what with a weight of aimless uselessness sitting in his chest and a snarl of unhappy emotions waiting to spark into a right storm. He just needs… something. Something to do, someone to see who isn’t anyone inside the farmhouse.
Of course, Donnie is about as welcoming as he ever is these days. Crookedly slouched, absolute intensity on his work, no room for niceties or kindness. Just steely determination to fix things.
Donnie has been like that since they got here, and even worse since he diagnosed Leo’s coma as one that could be indefinite. Mikey has seen only scarce glimpses of his older brother, since Donnie can’t figure out how to sit still longer than passing out on the couch for a few hours. It’s a little weird, seeing Donnie behave so much like Mikey sometimes does. Honestly, it’s disconcerting, and it gives away just how really upset Donnie probably is about Leo, and their father, and everything.
It makes him a right asshole to talk with, too.
Mikey says hello anyway, and rolls his eyes at the curt greeting he gets in return, as well as the “go away, Mikey, I’m busy,” that follows right after.
“You sure you’re busy? Not just obsessively working on shit ‘cause you’re neurotic as hell?” Mikey needles, leaning on the desk beside Donnie and hoping to maybe start a good bicker. His brother doesn’t even look up.
“Mmm,” is all Donnie grunts. Oh, so he’s regressed to monosyllables? Nice.
Mikey pokes Donnie’s shoulder. His brother shrugs it sharply and keeps working. Mikey just about rolls his eyes out of his skull.
“Skill testing question: when was the last time you stood up, and if that number is not below five hours ago, how much feeling have you lost in your lower half at this point?”
“Mgh.”
“That answer just fills me with new knowledge, really. I feel all warm and tingly and shit. I might write a thesis paper on it.”
“Go away, Mikey.”
Mikey sighs loudly, pushing away from the table dramatically. “Look, I’m bored as fuck, so not I’m leavin’ until you stand up and at least attempt to take care of yourself.”
“I’m fine,” Donnie says, even though his voice is rough and his eyes bloodshot. Mikey frowns, watching his brother’s steady fingers keep working at the helmet-thing for April. Though his hands move fluidly, Mikey sees a serious slump of exhaustion to Donnie’s shoulders.
And not even a herd of wild horses could drag Donnie off to bed, not while Leo’s still asleep and Donnie has work he apparently has to do, even though he needed a break like, forever ago. Mikey knows his brother well enough to know no matter what he says… nothing is going to make Donnie go and actually take care of himself right now.
Desire for a good mock fight evaporates in Mikey, and he’s left feeling worn out again.
Mikey sighs to himself, watching his brother try to single-mindedly solve everyone’s problems in one go. A part of him is kind of jealous of Donnie’s sheer determination and near compulsion- at least he has goals, and drive to do meet those goals. Mikey has energy to burn, but nowhere to aim it on this stupid farmland. Playing with chickens and cooking meals only keeps him entertained for so long, but right now that’s all he knows how to do. Everything else is outside his capabilities.
Mikey misses home, misses their friends, misses their missing father and things being easy, at least sometimes. They’re all cooped up in the farmhouse together right now- him, Donnie, Raph and Casey and April- and yet it feels like there’s distance between them all, so long as the gap Leo left remains open.
Mikey’s lonely, honestly, and he knows his brother probably is too. Unwillingness to actually talk that out doesn’t erase it from being a thing.
Donnie has no energy to keep this endless workhorse drudgery up anymore. Mikey has too much energy to handle and not a single task left to spend it on. Neither of them is willing yet to actually talk about all the horrible stuff sitting inside them, but they’re both in serious need of closeness with someone, because this isolation feels like it could kill.
And then Mikey nearly smacks himself upside the head. There’s an easy solution to all of this.
“Hey, Donnie?”
“Mm? What.”
“Turn around.”
“What? No I’m working-”
Mikey grabs the back of Donnie’s chair and spins him around. Donnie barely lets go of his tools in time, unwillingly rounding with a scowl in place and his mouth already open to scold.
“Fuse with me,” Mikey says seriously, and Donnie’s mouth clicks shut.
“…why?” Donnie asks, giving Mikey a suspicious look. Mikey grins, grabbing his hand.
“Do it and you’ll understand,” He says cryptically, just to annoy Donnie, and hauls his brother out of the seat he’s probably been in for the last ten hours. Donnie stumbles, blinking rapidly and muttering about hypoglycemic attacks and the chances of him passing out mid fusion dance. Mikey ignores Donnie’s grumblings, and artfully corrals his brother into the dance.
Donnie drags his feet at first, annoyed and clearly at the end of his science-‘til-I-drop binge, but Mikey feels a tingle start in tips of his fingers as they fall into sync. It spreads up his hands and arms, from his toes up his legs- fluttering and warm and making him feel lighter than air. There are hints of sadder things, of heavy hearted emotions and pain, and those feelings from Donnie are evenly matched by Mikey’s. Neither of them is okay, neither of them is willing to talk about it. Not yet.
Fusion removes the need to talk.
Mikey laughs in surprise as Donnie abruptly spins him, his brother abruptly throwing himself 100% into the effort to fuse, and there’s Donnie’s familiar laugh; something Mikey hasn’t heard in weeks since they arrived at the farmhouse. It’s creaky in places but its real, and it makes a bubbly feeling burst in Mikey’s chest.
They spin together, drawing close as their feet slide and tap in perfect sync- they’re at opposite ends of the scale nine times out of ten, and then there’s times like this, where it’s all ease of movement and simple knowledge that the other knows the exact step they’re going to take next- where everything just makes clear perfect sense, and there’s no falter in their communication at all.
They’re the B-team for a reason, and it’s not just because their older brothers are sometimes jerks and get too easily exasperated with their eccentricities. It’s because they sometimes just click.
Donnie actually smiles, and it’s like months of stress lift from his eyes just with that expression, and Mikey mirrors the toothy grin with all the sincerity he’s got in him. It overpowers all the twisty awful emotions he’d had before this, and Mikey finally feels nothing but okay.
Donnie obviously feels the same, laughing freely as they dance, and against the echo-y rafters of the barn and mixed with the smell of old wood and hay and substances Mikey couldn’t even name- it’s amazing sounding, and it draws more exhilarated laughter out of Mikey.
Step, step, and twirl- they crash together in a burst of feelings and understanding and unconditional familial affection and love-
-and Monnie opens his eyes, all three of them feeling significantly less achy and awful than Donnie’s had, and from a much higher perspective above the ground. He yawns, feeling the urge to go and sleep off the fading exhaustion one part of him has, but the burbling energy the other half provides gives boost to the absolute determination he possesses, and then he doesn’t need to anymore.
Stretching his four arms above his head and behind his back, Monnie sighs happily as strength and vigor erases aches and cramps from bending over a desk and bedside. Good fucking god, why didn’t he do this hours ago, if not days? Weeks, he could have done this weeks ago, rather than sit around feeling miserable and tired and aimless and too wired to sleep at all. Why didn’t he? Everything is so much easier to handle now that he’s fused.
Both sides of him respond that it’s because he’s two parts of dysfunctional individuals with communication problems. Monnie tells himselves to fuck off.
He glances at the now very short table all of Donnie’s projects are scattered across, and finds a dozen new solutions popping into his head now that he’s got a fresh streak of creativity to add to the genius’s, and all the knowledge needed to articulate, refine, and execute the ideas. The daunting tasks of medical, mechanical, and economical problem solving are much less stressful, now that he’s got a thrum of excitement in his chest and broader perspective.
Of course… a repressed part of one half is calling to the restless part of the other half, demanding to be outside in the sun and getting his blood pumping. Part of him has been cooped up in this barn for weeks, and it makes the other halve jittery just to experience secondhanded. Monnie feels it thirdhanded and he understands both sides of the equation.
“I need to finish this, though,” Monnie mutters to himself, picking up his tools and the helmet and examining them, as well as absently starting to rearrange the desk into a manner that suits all him instead of just one half of him. He really does have so many things to get done- so many things, jeez- but the sun is warm and the wind is sweet and part of him recalls a very lovely climbing tree not far from the farm.
Admittedly, Monnie is as determinedly focused as he is impulse and whim driven. He needs to get work done, but he also needs to get out and stretch and re-fucking-lax, Donnie, you’re tying yourself up in knots like this-
-I know what I’m doing-
-wrecking your posture is what you’re doing-
-like you’re one to-
-talk, slouching so-
-much of the time over-
-videogames-
-desks-
Monnie shakes his head, quieting the brief squabble with himselves. His fusion remains solid despite the bickering, which is nice since it’s been ages since he was himself, and while he has occasional scattering days where a lot of messy and painful feelings make his emotions and opinions invert and turn sharp and terrible and hating, aimed at himself and himselves and everything- Monnie really, really does love himself a lot. Even if he finds bits of himselves annoying at times.
He’s made of two halves that click just right, sometimes, despite being such laughable opposites in so many ways, a perfect mix of them both… and that topic of thought leads Monnie to an idea.
“…strike a balance!” He tells himself triumphantly, setting down his tools and projects. “One- two- one hour of hiking, and then work for a few more, and then dinner prep and another walk? Yeah, that seems fair.”
Both parts of him are in total agreement that being away from the farmhouse will be good; getting away from the oppressive silence and failure that lingers in the upstairs levels, choking and painful to even think on. That will ease the continuous worrying Leo’s coma causes for everyone.
Which Monnie isn’t going to do, because he has a tree to climb and a forest to explore with new eyes and so very many things to accomplish after that.
Monnie steps away from the desk, humming pleasantly to himself an aimless but upbeat tune as he walks towards the barn doors. They open easy as anything for him- he has twice the strength of either side of him- and Monnie is bathed in the hot afternoon sun as he steps out.
The wind is sweet, the more indoors-y half of him finds delightedly, and he laughs to himself as he squints up at the blue, blue sky. It really is such a lovely day, and being himself makes it seem even lovelier.
Raph is on the porch currently, fiddling with what looks like his sketchbook, and staring at Monnie with something between exasperation and confusion. Monnie waves cheerily, and turns the motion into a quadruple flipoff as he absconds from the farmhouse lawn. Raph had been snappish and unpleasant to Mikey this morning when he just tried to say hi, and Monnie feels absolutely justified in flipping his brother off and explaining nothing of why he’s fused.
The forest welcomes him and the jaunty steps he takes speed up as it does. The trees are taller and thicker than anywhere in NYC, a hundred birds and small animals are just nearby, and the earthy rich scent of everything speaks to a nearly buried part of his brain.
It feels wonderful. The tug of duty and responsibility and guilt and love remains, tying Monnie to the farmhouse despite how much he just wants to run and run and never look back, but he lets none of those things seize hold of him.
Monnie will go home later, finish projects and make dinner for everyone- later. For now, he has a tree to climb.
#rhi-draws-things#Donatello#michelangelo#b-team babes#tmnt#tmnt 2012#Fusion AU#Monnie is a cutie#shame i didn't get to include how unstable his temper can be sometimes#oh well#that's for another time#My writing#man i owed this forever ago rhi i'm so sorry for being late#inspiration is Hard and writing is Harder and i get distracted so easily#glad i finally got this done#hope you like it <3
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Part 1/2
Started writing this before the second book update and I'm happy it still works with the canon. xD Split in half, because of little writers block and me dancing around certain parts. *is very tired now, so not much notes and bad summary*
During the night at Mazelinka's house, Ajina has a hard time to get some sleep. In hopes to calm her mind she visits the little garden of the house, but she isn't alone for long. The doctor who currently haunts her every thought follows her and Ajina does anything but calm down.
Ajina really missed the times where she could sleep through the night.
Since she had accepted the Countess's...Nadia's offer, it was hard for her to calm down from all the excitement and troubles that plagued her every day anew.
Even after an evening full of running away from guards, Ajina was only able to drift into a light sleep, before her own tossing and turning annoyed her so much that she started to fully awake again.
Hopefully she hadn't disturbed Julian. That poor guy needed all the sleep he could get. Not only because of the exhaustion he got from taking her wound, but also because he looked like he rarely got any sleep in the first place.
The first thing Ajina noticed, when she came back to full consciousness, was that she was pressed against something and while her right hand was tugged under her chin, the other one was grasping at a piece of clothes. It took her a few moments to realize that it was Julian's back she was pressed against and that it was his shirt she was grabbing at.
A blush spread over Ajina's face.
When had that happened? Julian was still laying on his site, the same position he had fallen asleep, so it must have been her who moved closer.
Careful and quiet she let go of his shirt and rolled on her back to sit up. With a flick of her fingers Ajina created a little flame that helped her to make out her close surroundings.
The doctor didn't seemed to be fazed by her movements or the light and only let out a little snore, which made her chuckle. Now with the light she could see a strand of his curly hair fell over his good eye and just as before Ajina couldn't stop herself from stroking it gently away. A low murmur, followed by a sigh was his only reaction, but it was enough to make her heart doing flip-flops.
She watched him for a minute longer, smiling fondly, before she decided to get some fresh air. Maybe that would help to clear her head and go to sleep again.
Since Ajina preferred to sleep in just her top piece, she had taken off her loose waistcoat and sleeves and also undone her high ponytail. She didn't put them on again for her little night stroll. But she did pick up the flower Julian had given her in the garden they had hidden in. It had lost some of it's glow. Maybe a bit of moonlight would be good for it.
As quiet as possible, Ajina sneaked out of the room and through the kitchen to the backdoor Mazelinka had gone through earlier. To her relive the old woman was sound asleep in her makeshift bed and didn't even stirred at the creaking door.
Cool night air blew into her face, when she stepped out in the little back garden. Patches of herbs and spice plants decorated the place and a stone bench was placed against one of the walls surrounding the garden.
After closing the door, Ajina went to the bench and sat down, against the wall. Another flick with her fingers and the flame went out, since the moon provided enough light for now. She took in a deep breath and looked up at the cloudless sky. The twinkling stars and fresh air already did their job with calming her down.
Everything was such a whirlwind in the last days and usual she would have just gladly followed the flow of this adventure, enjoying the thrill of the unknown. But usually there wasn't someone's life on the line. Especially not someone's she had started to care about.
With a sigh she lifted the flower head, holding it against the dark firmament. As expected the Deadly Starstrand regained some of it's glow again and it almost looked like she had a real star in her hand.
Beautiful, but as Julian had explained, very dangerous.
Ajina really liked this notion.
Twirling the flower between her fingers, she remembered their moment in the hidden garden and smiled slightly. She herself always claimed that she wasn't big into typical romantic gestures, but being presented with a poisonous flowers after they had run away from the city guards was in no way typical.
When she thought back on how gentle Julian had caressed and looked at her, Ajina's cheeks became very warm. She had to put her hand over her mouth to muffle a giggle, but couldn't stop herself from grinning like a dork.
Oh, she really had it bad for the doctor, hadn't she?
This was not her first crush, but Ajina could already tell it was...different. They had the same sense of humor, he used just the right way to charm her and he attracted trouble just as easy as she did.
I'd love to make something real with you.
The memory of those words alone made her heart pounding very fast.
Julian wasn't just flirting with her for the fun of it, as she had assumed at first, but was genuinely interested in her as person and wasn't deterred by her brash attitude. Oh, he was worried about her recklessness, but it didn't feel like he was patronizing her.
Ajina shared Julian's wish, she also would like to try to make something real with him. She wanted to learn more about him, spent more time with him. She wanted...
If we had more time...
A deep sigh escaped her and ran her hand over the back of her neck.
This was all fine and dandy, if it wouldn't be for the fact that he was a wanted fugitive and she was supposed to bring him before the countess. Wrong time, wrong person. As usual Ajina liked to make things more complicated for herself as they already were.
And those words from Julian worried her. Was he only talking about the chance that he could get captured? Or had it something to do with curse he apparently got from Asra?
Another thing that preyed at her mind. What was Julian's connection with her master? Asra had been so cryptic again, when she asked about him, the only clue she had gotten was that those two new each other. But why would Asra give Julian such a curse? Was it a punishment for something? Why couldn't anyone be straight forward with her?
Frustrated Ajina thumped her head against the wall behind her. Hadn't she come out here to get her head free instead of overthinking? Now her mind was racing again and the idea of sleeping receded into the distance again.
Her gaze went up to the sky again and she focused herself on the stars above her, mapping out the constellations she could see.
Orion, Leo, Perseus...
"Ajina?"
Ah, she had found the Aries constellation, her zodiac sign. A fitting one, since many people told her she was stubborn as a ram and would try to solve problems with force instead using her wits.
"Ajina?"
Astrology wasn't something she was well versed with, but it was always interesting to know what a birth sign could say about a person. Absently she wondered what Julian's sign was.
"Ajina!"
Suddenly the face of said man came into her vision.
She had been so absorbed in her observation that she hadn't noticed him approaching and calling out her name. As a result she got scared witless at his sudden appearance and out of reflex she throw a punch at him. Her fist met his nose and sent him flying to the ground with a pained grunt.
"Oh god, Julian!" Ajina hissed in panic, after she realized what had happened and knelt besides him. "Are you okay?"
"Ugh, you really have a mean right hook," he groaned, but still sounded amused while she helped him to sit up again. He had one hand on his nose and a few drops of blood dripped to the ground.
"I'm really so sorry Julian, I didn't mean to do that," she apologized frantically. Mentally she cursed herself.
But Julian only shook his head and gripped her upper arm with his free hand to gently squeeze it.
"It's alright Ajina. Don't worry about me. I feel...fine." At the last word he closed his eyes and let out a sigh that sounded...pleased?
Ajina blinked perplexed at him.
She gently tried to get his hand away from his nose to take a look at it. But instead Julian intertwined his fingers with hers and looked up at her with hooded eyes, a blush decorating his face. Tingling warmth rose in Ajina's stomach at this sight and she remembered: Julian actually liked pain. In an...intimate way.
"You enjoyed that, right?" Ajina murmured and tugged him a bit closer to her. His eyes widened for a moment in surprise, but then his lips curled into an excited smile.
"Well, I do tend to enjoy a good punch from a beautiful lady."
For a moment she couldn't decide what flustered her more: the look he gave her or his words. Either way, both and the memories of his lips on hers made the heat only grow stronger. Ajina knew, if she went on like this she wouldn't be able to stop herself. So she acted against her desires and let go of Julian's hand to gently shove him a few centimeters away, creating a bit more distance between them.
"So what, you scared me on purpose?" she laughed, masking the disappointment at her own decision with humor and sat down in front of him.
Julian was visibly bewildered at the sudden change in her behavior, his own disappointment but also worry flashed over his features. Still he went along with it and tried so smile.
"No, not exactly," he said, wiping the blood from his nose, "Just tried to get your attention."
"Yeah, sorry about that. Was just deep in thoughts," she apologized and scratched her cheek in embarrassment. Not wanting to get into details, she tried to steer the conversation into another direction. "Anyway, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be sleeping and getting your strength back?"
At this question Julian raised an eye-brow. "Could ask you the same."
"Maybe, but I asked first."
"Fair enough. I just missed someone clinging to me, my back was growing cold," he answered with a cheeky grin.
"Oh, I'm so sorry for that," Ajina said with slight sarcasm and visible embarrassment, but then sighs. Julian kept staring expectantly at her so she had no real choice. "Just couldn't sleep, that's all."
He gave her a searching look. "Something bothering you?"
Her eyes were glued to the grass for several moments, debating what or how much she should tell him from her previous thoughts. After all she didn't want to admit that he was one of the things that bothered her in a way.
"This whole affair is just...so much more complicated than I thought it would be. I want to solve this, but I barely get the chance to take a step forward."
"And you are not the most patient person, aren't you?" Julian commented with a smirk.
"You figured that out just now?" They both shared a laugh, before Ajina let out another sigh and let herself lay down in the gras. "But yeah, I'm not and it feels like fate makes it harder for me on purpose."
For several moments there was silence between them, with Ajina staring up to the sky again and Julian watching her.
"Well, you could make it easier for you," he said after a while.
Ajina turned her head in his direction and blinked curiously. "And how?"
The doctor didn't answer right away and plucked a few grass stalks out of the ground. She noticed how tired he looked, more than usual.
"By simply handing me over to the guards. That surely would end all this hubbub and you can walk back into your little shop."
And it would mean your end, she thought and her stomach twisted at this. "Do you want me to hand you over?"
A mirthless laugh escaped Julian. "I prefer you would not, but if it can't be avoided," he said with a shrug. "I actually wonder why you haven't so already."
"How could I send you to death just like that?" she exclaimed irritated and quickly sat up again.
Julian was startled at how harsh Ajina's words were and so was she. But for a moment she got so angry at him, for being so nonchalant about his situation, about the possibility of his death.
After taking in a deep breath she continued in a calmer tone: "The Countess asked me to find the murderer of Count Lucio and that's exactly what I will do. And I won't accuse anyone without definite proof."
"Everyone in the palace is convinced that it was me. And that thing speaks volumes." When Julian held up his hand with the murderer's brand Ajina felt a dreadful prickle on her skin. Still...
"Not everyone. Portia doesn't." At the mentioning of his sister Julian's face softened into a little smile. "And...me neither. I mean...it's just hard to believe." She doesn't look him in the eyes and fumbles with her hands. "You have no memory of that night and that's just plain odd. What if someone has erased your memory on purpose, so they could use you as scapegoat? There are still so many questions I have no answer for."
She didn't register that Julian had come closer to her, only when he took her twitchy hands in his she looked up and saw that their faces were just inches apart.
"You really believe me that I can't remember?" he asked her in a whisper, uncertainty clear in his voice and expression.
"Yes, I do," Ajina answered him, no waver in her voice. And she meant it.
She had seen the pain flash over his face when he had tried to remember the letter she had found in his desk. She was sure it was the same kind of headache she had, whenever she tried to remember details about her life before she had met Asra. The same expression crossed his features this evening when he talked about the Count's murder. Besides if he indeed would lie, it would be a too obvious one.
Julian let out a huff of disbelieve. "But why? I'm certainly not the most trustworthy person in the city with the murder charge and breaking in into your shop...twice."
Now she started to fumble with his hands, casting her gaze down towards them. "Because you are a doctor Julian. And I trust that you chose this profession, because you want to help people. After all you took that wound from me without thinking twice."
She noticed that he wanted to interrupt her, probably to deny that he did anything special. But Ajina was having none of it and simply silenced him by putting two fingers on his lips.
"Ah, no backtalk there. Doesn't matter if it was better you than me or than I'm more fragile, it was a pretty selfless act."
Pleased that Julian indeed kept quiet and just looked astonished at her, she continued. "Anyway, because of that I have a hard time to believe you could've killed someone, at least not without a very good reason. And my guts are telling me that something is very fishy about this whole story."
Ajina had become thoughtful again at her last words, so she didn't notice his quiet laugh at first. Before she could look up again, he had let his upper body fall towards her, almost toppling her over with his size. But she managed to grab his upper arms and steadied him.
It seemed like exhaustion had finally overcame him, since he hadn't had enough time to recover from the eel bite and her punch surely hadn't helped his state. She was about to suggest to go back inside, when Julian nestled his head against the side of her neck, making her body go rigid.
"You are far too trusting for your own good Ajina," he mumbled into her shoulder. Despite her nervousness of his proximity Ajina had to laugh at this kind phrasing of her rashness.
"Yeah, I know. Getting too easily attached to people. But I can't help it," she sighed dramatically and Julian chuckled at that.
He made now move to get up again and Ajina thought it was because he needed to regain a bit of his strength first. So she gave him the time, rubbing her thumbs gently over his shoulders. Her own body had relaxed by now and she enjoyed this kind-of cuddling.
By the way Julian always tried to be close to her, Ajina had a feeling that he was touch starved, a feeling that she could understand very good. While Asra was always up for a hug or stroking her, he was not here at the moment and with Julian it felt...nicer.
#The Arcana#The Arcana fanfic#Julian Devorak#Fan Apprentice#Julian x Apprentice#Julian#Julian x Ajina#Ajina#My Writing#It's not a nice cut I know and apologize for it.
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Thoughts on Suspira (1977)
I know I said I wouldn't review any more horror movies I watched unless I got a request to do so after I post my IMDb ratings but… I'm sorry, I just have to talk about this. I… did not like this movie. I thought it kind of sucked. And I am very disappointed to say that given all the amazing reviews. I must be missing something here. This movie is praised as a masterpiece. Did I… watch the wrong cut? Did I not go in with the right mindset? I went in with no real mindset or expectations, in fact my decision to watch this one was rather impulsive, I was just not impressed by what I saw. Now I do want to clarify that this is NOT a film with no redeeming qualities, far from it. I've found that the most praise this movie gets is for its use of color, and for good reason, this is (for the most part) a gorgeous movie. The use of lighting is truly breathtaking, I mean this is the very definition of eye candy. Accompanied by this, there are a lot of incredibly interesting shots, expertly composed and fascinatingly creepy that just a mere glance at a handful of these will make plenty of people feel compelled to see this for themselves. But that's where one (of many) issues comes in. The visual spectacle only becomes notably prominent in the second half. It's not absent from the first half, but it's not there as much as you'd like it to be. In regards to the first half of this movie, for every one shot that's visually cool to look at, there's one that's also flat and boring. Like, it goes from amazing to "ehhh we don't really care" very quickly. That's just one of many annoying inconsistencies in this thing. I don't think I need to say it, you all knew it was coming. This movie is style over substance (when the style is even present, of course). The film opens with a pretty decent scene, creating a lot of intrigue with a kind of cool soundtrack, though it does get a little repetitive. Later in the movie… it gets VERY FUCKING REPETITIVE. I swear there are like three main tracks in this entire score, and they loop them over and over and over again, it feels like royalty free music that first year film students use because they're too lazy to get creative with their soundtracks. I toyed with the idea that maybe this was done to reflect some sort of descent into madness our main character was going through, but she wasn't really enduring that at all. She was just kind of, in danger constantly. The threat wasn't repetitive or redundant really, just the soundtrack. It got on my nerves very quickly, and looking back at it I can think of no good reason it's done the way it is. Anyways, back to the opening scene (forgive this abysmally structured review, but maybe you're getting an idea of how awfully put together this movie is). Like I said before, the opening is kind of cool, it's a good hook but you're left wondering if the film will deliver more than it's presented you. Well it goes from cool and mysterious to HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE? In the blink of an eye the movie becomes so violent and bloody and totally not what you were expecting from the previous build up. Two characters we just met are murdered before our eyes, in an incredibly gruesome and over the top way. I swear to you, with this abrupt shift I was convinced that I was watching an experimental film, and I actually got kind of excited because now the movie got me hyped for some serious David Lynch type shit. Unfortunately, immediately after this, the narrative becomes conventional again. I didn't realize it yet, but that previous murder scene eliminates the mystery element this movie attempts to have almost entirely. So basically the movie takes place at this German dance academy where this new American student (our main character) starts to notice strange shit happening around the school. First some of the students act strangely around her, ranging from strangely nice to strangely snarky, but overall just strange. By the second half of the movie, it's completely irrelevant, those characters don't matter anymore. Only the teachers and other faculty members in their strange nature have any sort of significant impact on the plot. And there's no real suspense here, you KNOW they're not on the level. The first murder in the film was of a former student. And it was rather supernatural, almost anybody watching this knows that there has to be a connection between the two. Our main character did not witness this event transpire, she only saw the girl running away saying some cryptic shit. So, we know for a fact that this school is bad business, but our protagonist doesn't. Automatically she cannot be used as a catalyst for the audience to slowly but surely uncover new hints and clues that may explain the dark unrests of terrible things happening at the school. But she's at least interesting, right? We at least like her enough for us to want to see her get out of the film okay, right? Um… not really, no. Now she's not the most one dimensional character in existence or anything, but the amount of depth she has is lacking for this kind of film to work. Every now and again you kind of get what she's about, but not enough to feel as though you know her. She's like an acquaintance you when to high school with, like yeah you guys talked every now and again, and you kind of picked up on some of her quirks and interests, but you guys were definitely not close. That's who this girl is. You don't want to see bad things happen to her, but you won't be heartbroken if you do. She also has a friend who adds nothing but exposition to the movie. These two don't even build a friendship really, generic friend character just kind of whispers some things to the protagonist about how the teachers have always been creepy and mysterious, and suddenly they decide to stick together so they can survive, I guess. No real chemistry between the two, so these scenes aren't very interesting to watch, they're just kind of… necessary? By the way, that whispering scene I mentioned before has awful sound mixing. I could barely hear a word they were saying behind the creepy background noise, which is especially questionable when half of this film is ADR'd. At first I was willing to forgive the lackluster dubbing with the excuse of "oh maybe it's purposefully off putting, perhaps it will add to the tone of the film." Spoiler alert, it does not, it's just distracting. Suspira has a really awful balancing of tones. Sometimes it's incredibly over the top and bloody. Other times it's slow and atmospheric, trying to build suspense. Hell, sometimes it's just people talking with flat and uninspired dialogue. Absolutely none of it meshes, there's no glue holding any of this together, the filmmakers just pick and choose what kind of movie this is going to be at random spots, and they just can't make up their mind. I'm all for mixing genres and tones, but it should be handled like a chef carefully crafting a myriad of different foods into a gourmet dish, not some lazy slob putting his favorite meals in a blender and expecting it to be 5 star cuisine. 3/4ths of the way into this movie, there's a 10 minute long exposition scene that doesn't even attempt to be interesting or act as if it fits into the plot for a second. It's just one giant moment of "Here's what you need to know." I feel like this scene was filmed later in production, when the editor realized "oh shit, we didn't make enough sense out of what happens at the end." Speaking of the end, it doesn't really feel earned. The protagonist hasn't grown or overcome any obstacles, even though they sort of kind of I think try to imply she has. It's just her using a collection of information previously given to fight the odds at the end, kind of. Every now and again there's a problem she doesn't quite know how to face, but the solution ends up being so easy and takes her no time at all to solve that you're just let wondering "what was the point?" Now don't get me wrong, there were a few really good scenes. Scenes that, on their own, had me kind of invested, interested in what was going on and actually worked in being creepy/suspenseful. But they would have been better off in a better movie. I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who will tell me that this movie isn't about the characters or the plot, it's about the style and the experience. That would be totally fine, if it stayed consistent with being a colorful over the top joyride of unpredictability. But it's not that, there are too many moments spent with our main character slowly wondering to herself "what is up with this place?" Well, we know what's up with this place, and we don't care enough about you to have any sort of investment in you finding out. The over the top moments don't work when you were trying to get into the suspense, and vice versa. Moments that are solely dialogue and exposition… simply don't work in any sense. A lot of shots are impressive and the lighting is gorgeous, but more times than not it's making up for it's lack of substance instead of harmonizing with it. I hardly felt any real emotion throughout most of Suspira. Was it supposed to be scary? Because I was hardly scared. Was it supposed to be suspenseful? Because it was almost never biting. Was it supposed to be funny? Because I never laughed un-ironically. Is it possible that this movie was supposed to be disjointed? Maybe it's some sort of parody of horror? Honestly, yeah that is possible, but even at that it doesn't work. I know this movie has a lot of fans and I'm glad people enjoy it. I envy that, I really do. I wanted to love this movie but I just didn't. I understand why people love it and I hope that one day I can change my mind on it and enjoy it too. Maybe there's something I'm just not getting, I don't know, but I got to go with my gut on this one. I just didn't like it, it was very disappointing. 4.5/10
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Pokemon XYZ or blue exorcist please!
Someone else asked for Blue Exorcist, so I’m going to go ahead and do Pokémon XY(&Z). I’m also assuming you mean the anime here, but if not and you meant the games, feel free to send that in, haha.
But as for the anime … oh buddy.
Very first order of business here is to fix Alan’s ending, because I hate, hate, hate everything that happened with him post-episode 44 to the point where I feel actual anxiety in my gut every time I so much as think about it, much less actually see screencaps or gifsets of it. (Well, okay—that scene where Sycamore tries to encourage Alan to dance despite the fact that Alan clearly doesn’t want to, only for Bonnie to drag Sycamore off a couple seconds later despite how startled and reluctant he is, while Alan grins at Sycamore getting a taste of his own medicine there—that was super cute. But everything else? Everything else was garbage, and I’m wiling to sacrifice those seconds of cuteness if it means getting rid of all the other trash.) While the abusive situation that gave me C-PTSD that I’m still grappling with to this day lasted a lot longer for me than Alan’s lasted for him, his situation also came with so many more severe incidental traumas, so I feel it evens out in terms of relatability for me. With that said, the fact that he was given no time to deal with them—the fact that we see in XYZ044 that he’s feeling and sounds suicidal enough to worry Ash to the point where Ash basically gives him a “promise me you’ll battle me again at some vague, undefined point in the future, which means you have to be alive and well enough to do it” offer and that Alan refers to this as Ash saving him, all to just completely sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened two episodes later so they can toss him out on a journey again (despite, you know, the fact that Professor Sycamore said that with the way Lumiose City was Alan was needed there in episode 44 and Alan was so happy he practically started crying while smiling when he heard that), sickens me.So! Before I get into anything else, the first thing that’s changing is that. Alan is staying at the lab—his home—at the end of the series, in order to rest and recuperate. He no longer has the Mega Ring (and Lizardon no longer has that godawful collar), but the Key Stone and Charizardite X were kept and Sycamore has them fashioned into a matching set of pendants: a half-sun for Lizardon, and a half-moon for Alan. But even though they have those back, they’re still staying at the lab for the time being, with no definite plans for the future. Right now, Alan is just focusing on recuperating—or rather, Sycamore is focusing on Alan recuperating, while Alan is focusing on helping out around the lab. You know how he is. In his mind, he’ll rest when he’s dead. (Which Sycamore would like to be very many decades from now, rather than at some point before his sixteenth/seventeenth birthday, but that requires getting Alan to actually rest and take care of himself, and sometimes that can be a struggle.) So he has no definite plans, but before Ash leaves he does reaffirm that they’ll battle again someday, and whatever he does will work toward that. Ash is pretty happy to hear it.Manon, meanwhile, returns to her own journey. She’s reluctant at first; we see throughout TSME and the main series that Manon has little to no real confidence in herself as a trainer, shown both in how she never actually has a single battle on-screen aside from when she captures Fla-chan (which Alan helped her with and might as well have never happened anyway since Fla-chan was never seen after that moment)—and no, TSME 3 does not count, because Manon did not command Hari-san. He acted independently in order to defend both Manon and Alan. Her lack of confidence is also highlighted in TSME 4, when she tells Alan that if he’s with her then she and Hari-san can grow stronger, and he tells her (truthfully!) that she needs to stop relying on him all the time. So Manon is reluctant to go on her own, but Alan encourages her, tells her that he knows she can do it, and as an added bonus invites her to pick a Kanto starter to take with her. She chooses bulbasaur, and he gives her a cryptic message about how he might have something special for her should she ever manage to evolve her bulbasaur all the way to the venusaur stage. Manon gets excited and pesters him about whether or not it’s a Key Stone/Mega Stone (“Will I be able to mega evolve?!” - “It’s your pokémon that mega evolves, not you—” - “I know that, jeez! Just answer the question!!”), but he refuses to tell her. Just smiles and playfully shoos her on her way. She’s still nervous—scared, even—but she and Hari-san (and her new bulbasaur Fushi-kun) go on their journey to build confidence in themselves and each other.So that’s number one—the biggest one, but a very, very important one. As for others?
The Showcases have got to go. They do. They just do. They’re bathed in idol culture, which is extremely toxic and harmful, and honestly I wouldn’t be as bothered by the Showcases if they weren’t female-only, but the fact that this is The Girl Activity (whereas Contests, for instance, were always co-ed) bothers me, particularly since there isn’t any battling involved, but there is a lot of dancing and cooking, et cetera. It feels like a rigid enforcing of gender roles on top of being steeped in idol culture, and I don’t like that. It needs to go.That said? The Pokémon anime actually did introduce the concept of idols way back in the OS—specifically in the Pokémon Chronicles special episodes—and it was far less of an issue then. Pokémon Idols in the OS took the form of trainers like Marina (who was based on Kris from the games), and while the actual job description is somewhat vague, from the way Marina made it seem the goal of a Pokémon Idol is to be as entertaining as possible while battling. It is, essentially, to be a performance artist as well as a battler. So for instance, whenever Marina would battle she and her pokémon had choreographed entrance moves whenever she released them from their pokéballs. She also insisted to Jimmy (who was based on Gold from the games) that she wanted to “turn her battles into performances” in order to make people happy. And you know what? She did! Marina participated in the Johto League/Silver Conference, as well as a Grand Festival, but she was also shown modeling the Pokétch on a magazine cover and has had her face on t-shirts. She has become a star/idol, while at the same time working as a trainer skilled enough to participate in the Johto League/Silver Conference, and a coordinator skilled enough to participate in a Grand Festival.This is relevant, because if they really wanted to capitalize on the popularity of idol culture/idol anime such as Love Live!, the PokéAni writing staff could have worked in something similar for Serena. Rather than inventing Showcases the way they did (and removing the battling aspect completely), they could have instead set up something such as a Kalosian Idol Search, which hosted special battle competitions around Kalos in order to search for the next idol a la Marina. Perhaps these are similar to, but not the same as, Gyms, in which the objective is both to win a series of battles, but also turn those battles into performances in order to win the favor of the public (so, sort of like Contests, but not wholly the same). This could be co-ed as well, meaning that Tierno could participate in an attempt to be an idol, which would be perfect for him given that he loves to dance (and likes to incorporate dancing into battles, which is right in line with what Marina liked to do back in the OS). This way, Serena could be an active battler while still pursuing a goal that doesn’t mirror Ash’s badge quest, and yet isn’t so rigidly “this is for girls, and girls don’t battle,” which is the vibe much of the XY&Z saga gave me. Something like that (albeit a bit more refined, as this is a rough idea) would be far better than the Showcases were. (More entertaining to watch, too, imo.)
And speaking on Serena some more, we’re not going to have her hero worshiping/hero crushing on Ash for the entire series, because to be quite honest that created far more problems than it solved. It’s fine to have them meet in childhood (even though bby!Ash in the flashbacks do not at all resemble OS!Ash, which they should have—and that would need to be remedied, too), and it’s fine to have her remember that meeting and still hold a childhood crush on him—but he should have changed a lot since then. She should have, too. And we should have—we needed to have a moment early on where Serena realizes that he’s not just the amazing and courageous hero that she remembers, that he’s a human being with flaws, and maybe that bursts her bubble a bit, maybe she’s disappointed and put-out that this isn’t exactly like a fairy tale …… but then she gets to know him, as a person, flaws and all. Sometimes they quarrel, sometimes she’s less than impressed with him, but othertimes she is impressed with him, other times she sees that he makes her laugh or that, even if he’s not some amazing hero, he’s a guy she likes …… and, if we must go down the romance route, feelings develop from there.What made Ash/Misty so great in the OS was that Misty wasn’t introduced with the idea of, “This is Ash’s love interest.” Instead, their friendship was first and foremost what was developed, and the romance—which was canonically there from both sides, even in the JP version—developed naturally over time. They are most definitely best friends with crushes. If the anime writers wanted to write a romance arc with Ash and Serena, okay, that’s fine—go for it! But in that case, focus on developing them as friends first. Have the crush grow naturally. Don’t create Serena with the express purpose of having her fawn over Ash (which, yes—a recent interview revealed that the reason why this was written in was because a writer wanted to “see the series from the eyes of a female companion who admired Satoshi” which is just … no). Instead, even if she has a crush on him at first, have her get to know him—actually get to know him this time, not meet once and then separate for years on end, but know him as a person—and have her develop feelings for who he is now, not who she has idealized him to be. (And don’t have him be perfect all the time, either! Let him get mad! Frustrated! Selfish! Petty! Let him be feisty!) And likewise, have Ash develop a special and concentrated friendship with Serena, rather than just cute shippy moments here or there. Show us that he actually feels something for her beyond friendship. Show us before the very end where you just have his eyes sparkle after she kisses him, because you know what? His eyes sparkled the same way when Rowlet cuddled up to him in the Sun/Moon anime. Different animation style, sure, but I’m js. That’s not enough. And if the writers have to tell us later on “oh yeah, it’s meant to imply Ash and Serena are a couple later,” that’s not good writing. You guys can do better than this. Prove it.… So, um, yeah, I’d fix that. I’d change that ship from “girl meets boy when they are 5, develops a crush on him, and continues crushing through to the end as she works to be worthy of him” to “girl meets boy when they are 5, develops a crush on him, realizes when they are 10 that he’s not the Ideal Hero she built him up to be, befriends him as a person, realizes she’s developing new and stronger feelings for him now that she actually knows and sees him as a person, and he comes to see her as one of his closest friends and confidants, and their relationship is much more believable and stronger as a result.” That’s definitely a change I would make if the romance angle needs to be kept. (Which I don’t think it needs to be, but you know, in the interest of fairness, I’m just saying I could have done it better. Js.)
I can’t believe I forgot about this until point four, but rework Bond Phenomenon ffs. First of all, we’re no longer giving it to Greninja (or at least not limiting it to Greninja). That was stupid pandering meant to push Greninja’s popularity, and I’m not having it. If any one of Ash’s pokémon is getting it, it’s Pikachu, particularly since “but Pikachu isn’t fully evolved!1!1″ doesn’t matter because Bond Phenomenon is not mega evolution, and therefore the same rules don’t apply. The entire point of Bond Phenomenon was to avoid giving Ash a mega evolution for whatever asinine reason the anime team had, and if that’s the case, then there is no reason not to give the special love-powered super form to the partner and platonic soul mate that Ash has had since day one, particularly since Ash’s bond with Greninja was so poorly developed and not believable in the least bit. So if Ash is still getting Bond Phenomenon for whatever reason, it’s going to Pikachu, and that’s final.Second, although I know there are many people who would hate this, sorry I’m not sorry, but I felt that there was plenty of foreshadowing that made it seem as if Alan and Lizardon would be tapping into that in the finale of the Flare Arc, perhaps following a scene where they tossed off the Mega Ring and collar right in Lysandre’s face and tapped into Bond Phenomenon afterward, given that they have “a bond that overcomes reason” (Alan’s words, TSME 1) / “a bond that surpasses its limits” (Malva’s words, TSME 4). So on top of giving Bond Phenomenon to Ash and Pikachu and making it clear that it’s not exclusive to that (which, conveniently, Sycamore’s explanation in XYZ036 did plainly enough by saying it’s rare but there are several recorded instances throughout history!), we’d perhaps tap into it here as well, albeit only on a Lvl 1 or 2 scale, and one that probably knocks them both out at the end of the battle due to the physical toll it would take on them.Or, if not that? Then ditch Bond Phenomenon altogether and just give Ash a goddamn mega evolution, particularly in the form of ‘Zard Y. I’d be very happy with that as well, especially since Ash wearing his Key Stone attached to his hat would be adorable (and a nod to Red, whom the anime team specifically said they pulled from when putting together Ash’s XY design, most notably with the sideburns). Either way, Ash-Greninja is getting the boot for sure. Gtfo, froggo. No one wants you here.
Last (but certainly not least), I wanted a real confrontation between Lysandre and Sycamore over what Lysandre did to Alan—the lies, the manipulation, the abuse. We see in TSME 4 that Sycamore gives Lysandre a cold reception when first meeting him, and I really, really wanted Sycamore to go save his son, or at least confront Lysandre over it. So I definitely would have worked that in there, as well as more focus on Sycamore and Alan’s father-son bond in general. We needed more of that. More childhood flashbacks, perhaps (imagine flashbacks showing little five-year-old Alan, fdsfdsafda), some more heart-to-hearts near the end, perhaps … things like that. So, an actual confrontation between Lysandre and Sycamore, and more focus on Sycamore and Alan’s father-son bond, yesssss.
There is a lot more that I would change, I feel, but these are major ones. And this is super long/a lot as it is, so … that should tell you how many feelings I have over it, haha.
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Cryptics, Sudoku and authorship • Eurogamer.net
I have misplaced the book – I can at least tell you it’s called Two Girls, One on Each Knee and it’s by Alan Connor and it’s wonderful – but I remember reading that a newspaper (I think the Telegraph) at one point (I think it was the 1990s) tried to meddle with the way Cryptic crosswords got made.
Crucially, they tried to meddle with the authorship. Real humans would still set the individual clues, but then computers would step in and build the clues into complete puzzle grids. If you’re not into Cryptics, you’re probably like: so what? But people who were into Cryptics were very much not: so what. They were very much: what.
Cryptic crosswords are the crosswords that have the really confusing clues. Here’s a favourite. You, 500 (4). That four means the answer has four letters in it. The other bit is the clue, which with a good Cryptic such as this one should contain a literal definition of the answer and also a bit of wordplay designed to help you to the answer. You solve Cryptics in kind of a pincer movement. I actually solved You, 500 (4) myself when I first saw it (well, after about twenty minutes of getting grumpy), and it was one of the highlights of my life. The answer is “thou”. “You” literally means thou. And “500” is half of a thousand, just as half of a thousand is also…thou.
Anyway, I hope that proves that Cryptics are very heavily authored at the clue level. You get to know setters. For a while I used to do Rufus’ puzzle in the Guardian on a Monday. Rufus was always very kind – I think You, 500 (4) was one of his but maybe not. His entire puzzle grid would still take me all day to do, and I think you’re meant to do them in an hour, but he felt more approachable. (Also over the course of that day I often had to cheat a bit.)
But Cryptics are also authored on a deeper level. Sometimes the whole grid has a story or a gimmick or a theme. This is most brilliantly illustrated by The Listener Crossword, which I also read about in Connor’s book – did I mention it’s wonderful? – but the Listener is a rabbit hole that you need an afternoon to fall down. Instead, and it’s not actually a Cryptic, look at the New York Times Mini, a crossword that appears each day set by Joel Fagliano.
Fagliano is the subject of a sort of cult in our office. We have a Slack channel devoted to him and every day we view his work with trepidation and delight. When he’s being mean, we post lengthy solving times and complain about Americanisms. When he’s being nice there is nobody we love more than Joel Fagliano. Best of all is when a Fagliano crossword will have a theme, though. This means that all of the answers sort of line up in an interesting way. One time it was measurements – I think. Another time Fagliano gave us an awful lot of X words. Either way, we play the game and I think we all have our personal relationships with Fagliano. And that’s because crosswords are authored at the clue level and the grid level. They are constructed with intent, they are gifts from the setter’s mind to ours.
Right. So when the Telegraph tried to change all that, people were furious. And after a while the Telegraph caved. I think Boris Johnson who was at the Telegraph at the time had to apologise, and I think a setter shortly afterwards authored a Cryptic with the theme that the Telegraph could do one. But I might be wrong.
I thought of this last week when I suddenly realised that I had something to say about that incredible video of the guy solving the implausibly hard Sudoku puzzle that did the rounds a while back. You don’t need to know how to play Sudoku to watch this 30 minute video of a man sitting in a chair and find it utterly gripping. The long and the short of it is Sudoku doesn’t generally give you only a couple of numbers to start you on your way to filling the grid. This one does. The guy trying to solve it initially thinks it’s a joke. Then he starts to tease away at the specific rules that come with the puzzle. Then he gets really excited that it might be possible. It’s a dazzling thing to watch. You’re watching someone’s (extremely high-functioning) mind working. I love it.
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Two things about this. One of them is that I had never really realised puzzles and the people who solve them are a bit like those chemicals that need to be stored separately or they explode. That’s really what this video is about. The puzzle and the solver sort of react together, like magnesium going into a Bunsen flame. It feels like a chemical thing, like a chain reaction. (Wait. Is that chemistry or physics? Remember I’m the one who needs all afternoon to do a Rufus crossword.)
The second thing is: look at what authorship can do. This isn’t strictly a standard Sudoku – it has special rules. But it makes me wonder whether there is authorship in the Sudoku world, and if the really great Sudokus set by the really great setters speak the language of numbers to their solvers in the way that the great Cryptics speak the language of words to theirs. Not just words! Sometimes all sorts of things. Chemistry! Physics! Sherlock Holmes! (Do check out The Listener! Or just google “Godly Mixup”.)
For a while I had it in my head that all Sudokus were set by people. I imagined people who were very quiet and precise, inevitably, people who knew where their pens were and where they had put their keys, working in an environment that looked like Jonty Ives might have done the tiling. Then I decided that I was probably being romantic and that all Sudoku were set by computers. Number begat numbers etc. Now I wonder – I wonder how much the difference matters, and if there is richness out there, puzzley richness that I will never be able to actually understand, but which I can at least enjoy from a safe distance.
from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/07/cryptics-sudoku-and-authorship-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=cryptics-sudoku-and-authorship-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net
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Call Me But Love
Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: T Pairing: The Doctor/Rose Tyler, Twelfth Doctor/Rose Tyler (The Doctor/Clara Oswald, Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswald) Chapters: 7/40 Read on AO3 here.
“‘Oh, dear. Looks like we might have picked up an extra passenger,’ the Doctor grumbled to himself. His gaze raised to Rose’s once more and she was struck by the sheer intensity of it and the way that he managed to look at once so familiar, and yet so different from what she was used to. ‘Best find something to hold on to,’ he warned her ominously.”
A Season 8 & 9 AU centering around Rose Tyler and her newly-regenerated Doctor as they both struggle to maintain their relationship in the face of some unknown force that seems to be drawing them together. Will they be able to solve the mystery of who is pulling the strings before it’s too late?
This is a direct sequel to “By Any Other Name” and might be a bit confusing if you haven’t read that first. Tags will be updated as I go.
Rose knew immediately that she had been traveling for too long with the Doctor when the sheer normalcy of Coal Hill School instantly began to grate against her nerves.
However, the headteacher who greeted her (Mr. Armitage, as he introduced himself) seemed very excited by her list of references and the extensive CV (which had somehow been sent to him without Rose's knowledge) filled with experience that Rose herself had never actually completed. The entire interview process felt extremely forced, and Rose found that she had to fight to remember how normal people spoke to one another and lived out their day-to-day lives as she attempted to pretend to be an average, twenty-first-century mid-twenties school teacher.
The whole situation made Rose extremely nervous, and she found that she was unconsciously bracing herself at every corner, waiting for whoever it was who was pulling the strings on this odd operation to suddenly reveal themselves and explain why they had designed for her to be a teacher, of all things.
Still, if she was really going to go through with this whole plan as the Doctor seemed to think that she should, she was at least pleased to find that Miss. Clara Oswald appeared to be an English teacher - the one subject that Rose felt that she had a relatively firm grasp on.
About half-way through her tour of the new school, Mr. Armitage was leading Rose through the mingling adults in the staff room when he suddenly pulled her up short next to a tall, young man and announced, "Ah! Here he is! Clara, I want to introduce you to Danny Pink. He's new, just like you - teaches maths. Danny? Clara Oswald."
The young man next to them suddenly turned and Rose smiled in warm welcome as she took in his soft brown eyes and kind smile. He was tall, just like the Doctor, but he seemed to be more solidly built and had dark skin and a closely-shaved beard. All in all, Rose had to admit that he was quite handsome, and she didn't doubt Mr. Armitage in the least as he teasingly accused the young man of being a "lady-killer".
"I am not a 'lady-killer'," Danny insisted with a somewhat-strained smile.
"Don't worry, I've met plenty of those before," Rose assured them both with a playful smirk. "I think I'll be able to handle myself."
"Why don't you show Miss. Oswald around a little and help her to get better acquainted with the school, Danny?" Mr. Armitage suggested brightly. "I figured that since you're so new yourself, you two might get all well."
"I don't know if I ..." Danny attempted to protest, but he was quickly cut off as the headteacher completely ignored him and turned back to Rose once more instead.
"Right, then - I'll be off," he stated as he took up Rose's hand in a firm handshake. "Please let us know if there's anything at all that we can do for you, Miss. Oswald. I so look forward to hearing from you. You know how to contact me - we'd be happy to have you whenever you're willing to start!"
The older man bustled off before Rose or Danny could get a word in edgewise, and when the two of them met eyes again, the young man flashed her a small, apologetic smile. "So ... what subject will you be teaching?" Danny asked slowly in an attempt to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them.
"English," Rose replied easily. "If I decide to take the offer, that is. And you teach maths, right?" She smirked as she lowered her voice, leaned in conspiratorially, and added, "Never been too good at the subject, myself. I have a friend who normally insists on doing all of the science and maths."
"'A friend'?" Danny repeated curiously as he led her out of the staff room, holding the door open for her politely as he gestured down the hallway in the direction of whatever sort of tour he planned to take her on.
"Yep - a friend," Rose agreed, her smile turning cryptic as she patiently allowed him to lead the way further down the hallway. She wasn't about to divulge any more information about the Doctor than was strictly necessary - not to any of this lot, anyway. She still didn't even rightfully know what was going on in this strange school or why she had been so purposefully summoned here. She decided that it would probably be best to keep information about her bondmate and their unusual life together a secret for now.
"So ... how long have you been working here, then?" Rose asked curiously, eager to learn a little bit more about the history of the place and the teachers who worked here.
"Just a few months, really," Danny replied with another small shrug. "I was in the army, before. It's been a while since I've gotten to teach. I'm looking forward to a bit of ..."
"Normalcy ...?" Rose supplied helpfully when the young man's words trailed off and his brows began to furrow over his dark eyes in a clouded expression that she knew only too well from spending time with the Doctor.
"Yeah," Danny agreed, flashing her a small, shy smile. "'Normalcy' ..."
"Well, doesn't get much more 'normal' than this ..." Rose continued conversationally as she glanced around the mundane, nondescript school hallways. "I can't remember the last time I was in a school like this. Brings back a lot of memories ..." Not all of them memories that she could necessarily talk about, either - as images of bat-like krillitanes suddenly flashed through her mind.
"So this is your first teaching position, then?" Danny asked, instantly bringing her back to the present and the many strange occurrences that had led her to Coal Hill School.
"I ... suppose you could say that," Rose replied awkwardly, unsure of how to answer such a question when "Clara's" history was still largely unknown to her.
"It's not as hard as it looks," Danny assured her breezily.
"No ...?" Rose asked, flashing him a doubtful look out of the corner of her eye. After all, she could still remember what she, herself, had been like when she was a teenager all those years ago. She couldn't imagine that times had changed that much in the British schooling system.
"Alright, there are some things that can be pretty difficult," Danny admitted with a small sigh. His eyes grew distant for a moment as he seemed to consider the specific "difficult" students who he was attempting not to name out loud, but when he turned back to Rose, he was smiling again as he added, "But it can be fun, too. The other teachers here are all pretty supportive. In fact, there's a party tonight that they're doing - it's like a 'going-away' thing for one of the other teachers that they're putting on. I wasn't going to go, it's just a small, casual get-together, but ... I don't know, maybe you would want to ...?"
His boyish nervousness brought a smile to Rose's lips despite herself as she watched him struggle for words. It all just seemed to add to the strange, pervasive normalcy that appeared to permeate this place and time, and she was struck by how it made her feel like such an outsider. These day-to-day human tasks and trials just weren't something that she did - not anymore, not in a very long time. It was strange to her that she no longer seemed to fit into her own planet and time when she had an alien husband and a time ship that were both waiting to whisk her away.
"Sorry, but I think I already have plans," Rose admitted with a small, sympathetic smile. She didn't miss Danny's disappointed exhale as she added, "You should still go, though. It sounds like it's going to be a good time. And since you're such a ... 'lady-killer', I'm sure you won't be shy of company."
"I'm not ..." Danny insisted exasperatedly.
"Yeah, okay, sure," Rose dismissed him teasingly. She recognized the front doors as they approached them and quickly put an end to their tour of the school as she broke off from Danny and prepared to leave. She figured that she had gotten about as much information from this place as she could - which wasn't much, if she were being honest - and she was ready to return to the Doctor and their own version of normal.
"Seriously, though. You should go," Rose insisted encouragingly as she turned to flash the kind young man one last parting smile. "Go and have a drink on me."
"What about some other time?" Danny asked, the question surprising them both as it seemed to fall from his lips without warning. "You and me, we could go get a drink together ... Nothing fancy, just a casual ..."
"Date ...?" Rose finished for him once more as he seemed to continue to struggle to find the right words. "Sorry, but I don't think so," she replied with another teasing smile. "I wouldn't want to make anyone jealous. Can't have rivalries springing up on my first day."
Danny rolled his eyes at her, but his smile remained hopeful as he watched Rose disappear through the school's front doors. Rose didn't even have the chance to begin to consider how she was going to deal with that lingering look before she practically ran headlong into the Doctor, who appeared to have been waiting for her directly outside of the front doors and stood there as unmoving as a statue as she jumped and stuttered to a stop before colliding bodily with him.
"Sorry ..." she gasped in shock before realizing who exactly it was who was standing before her and recovering herself. "Oh, it's you," she murmured cheerily. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Yes," the Doctor replied plainly, his expression very near a scowl as he stared down at her in silence for a moment before turning on his heel and adding, "You were taking too long, so I've been knocking about the future a bit. Found a dalek and a space hospital, thought I might need a second opinion for the job, so I popped back to pick you up."
Rose followed him dutifully back to the TARDIS as he ranted, her breath hitching on the easy way that he spoke of the daleks, his calm veneer not fooling her in the least as she felt out the jittery uneasiness of his thoughts.
"Why were you smiling, by the way?" he continued breezily as he pushed through the TARDIS doors and didn't bother to pause and hold them open for her as Danny had.
"Was I?" Rose asked in startled confusion. "No, I wasn't ..."
"You were smiling at nothing," the Doctor insisted over his shoulder as he continued on to the console controls and didn't bother sparing her a second look. "I'd almost say you were in love, but to be honest ..."
"'Honest'?" Rose interrupted, leveling a dubious look in his direction that he ignored as he circled the central space before her.
"You're not a young woman anymore," he finished pointedly, flashing her an irritated look that Rose didn't feel was entirely deserved.
"Are we seriously going to start comparing ages, now?" she demanded, her tone growing slightly acidic as she raised her chin in stubborn defiance of his glare.
"Just don't want you going out and bringing home strays," the Doctor grumbled under his breath as he returned his hard expression to the console controls before him.
"What, like you do?" Rose snapped in irritation. When he failed to come up with a retort to that, she crossed her arms over her chest as she squared her shoulders in his direction and demanded, "Do you really think I would do that? Do you have so little faith in me?" Realization dawned on her in waves and Rose's glare melted into shocked surprise as she tentatively prodded against the edges of his thoughts and added, "Wait ... are you jealous right now?"
"'Jealous'?" the Doctor scoffed in frustration as he finally turned to look at her properly once more. "Me? Don't be silly ..." But there was no denying the way that he was quickly hoarding his thoughts away from her once more, clearly eager to keep his inner insecurities to himself.
"I can't believe this ... You're actually jealous, aren't you?" Rose insisted, a disbelieving look crossing her features as she fought to determine whether she was more annoyed or pleased by this new information. She shared a lifelong telepathic bond with the man, for heaven's sake. He clearly didn't ever have to worry about her running off with another man. But the fact that he was so concerned about keeping her to himself still filled her with hope that maybe he would stop trying to abandon her at every turn.
"Rose, I am a two-thousand-year-old alien from space, I don't do 'jealous'," the Doctor snapped stubbornly.
"Could have fooled me with those big, sad eyes and the grumpy old frown," she teased, her tone coming out a bit sharper than she intended as she continued to war between amusement and annoyance.
The Doctor braced his hands against the console before him as he glared at her from under his thick, heavy brows and allowed a moment of silence to fall between them. As his keen eyes watched her, she could feel his presence in the back of her mind, still hesitantly feeling her out as though he weren't exactly sure how to communicate with her anymore.
"Rose, I need something from you," he muttered darkly as he carefully regarded her. "I need the truth."
"Okay ..." she agreed slowly, her hands falling to her sides as her thoughts immediately softened, ready to accept whatever it was that he would ask of her. She still wasn't about to let the Doctor get away with treating her with so little faith and trust, but the intensity in his expression and the desperation in his tone immediately called out to her and silenced all else for the time being. She tilted her head at him in wonder as she realized suddenly, "You're scared ..."
"I'm terrified," he agreed with a small, rueful sigh.
"Of what?" Rose asked cautiously.
"The answer to my next question, which must be honest, cold, and considered - without kindness or restraint," he replied, dropping his gaze from hers as he took a deep breath and continued, "Tell me: am I a good man?"
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