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#kirby#kirby makes stuff#daily kirby#my art#digital#hal laboratory#nintendo#I knitted for many years before I learned to crochet#but I personally think crochet is waaaay better#unless I very specifically want a knitted look for something or I'm using the hand crank machine to make socks#I just don't knit anymore#cuz it hurts my hands and keeping the stitches on the needles is difficult for me#crochet only has one loop to lose at any given time and is much easier on my hands#(though still taxing)#(I finished knitting a sweater today and I'm not actually happy with it which is rare for me)#(but I don't want to bother to fix it right now cuz I'm so tired of knitting and I would need an entire extra month-of-work panel)#(but it's. wearable. so we're calling it done for now.)#(so that I can work on something else. crocheted.)#favorites
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Knitting Machine YARN JOURNAL demo
#youtube#knitting#knitting machine#yarn#journal#digital planning#addi express#sentro knitting machine
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Trash Novel Chronicles: Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles - Leona Kingscholar x Reader
When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!
Series Masterlist
You're just an average person, doing normal human things like eating, sleeping, and, of course, staring at your poster of Leona Kingscholar for three hours straight. Totally healthy behavior. People have hobbies, right? Some knit, some jog, and you…? You defend your fictional lion husband from slander on the internet. You’re practically a digital knight in shining armor.
The story that has consumed your very soul? Oh, just your typical Cliché Villainess Academy Novel: Revenge Edition™. The plot is so by-the-book, it’s basically a war crime against creativity. Female lead? She’s been in love with the male lead since he gave some boring welcome speech that apparently hit her so hard, her brain rewired itself into a romantic mess.
The villainess? Obviously in love with the male lead too, but her one and only goal in life is making the heroine’s existence a never-ending trainwreck of public embarrassment. And the male lead? Sweet summer child. He just wants to get his degree and avoid eye contact with all of these lunatics.
Enter: Leona Kingscholar, the second male lead. The man, the myth, the walking sarcasm machine. He’s there purely to fuel jealousy in everyone else’s love story, but for you? He’s everything. The brooding, lazy, hot second male lead who rolls his eyes at every plot point like he’s just as done with this novel as you are. He has better things to do, like nap, but here he is, dragged into this mess by proximity.
If it were up to you, he and the male lead would run off together, leave the heroine and villainess to start their own hobby club about emotional devastation, and the two guys would live happily ever after in matching beach chairs somewhere.
But no. Instead, you’re stuck reading about her fawning over him while Leona is just… there. Existing. The only thing keeping your interest alive.
And now? Now, your loyalty to Leona Kingscholar is about to pay off. The fan event of the century is just days away. It’s going to be glorious. A whole day dedicated to Leona—merch, fan contests, life-sized cardboard cutouts (which, let’s be honest, you’re ready to risk it all for). You've cleared your schedule, mentally prepared yourself for the inevitable squealing, and created a battle plan for acquiring the best merch before everyone else.
But fate? Fate’s cruel.
You’re casually defending Leona’s honor online as usual, battling some no-name troll who dares to claim that the male lead is "better written." (HA! You laugh in their wrong face.) But then—what’s this? A an likes your tweet about Leona! And not just any author. THE ONE YOU LOVE. The serotonin shoots through you like an adrenaline shot straight to the brain.
Your heart’s racing. You’re vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear. You leap out of your chair like some majestic gazelle—or at least that’s what you tell yourself as you promptly trip over the plushie army that guards your floor.
Before you know it, you’re tumbling, body flailing like a noodle, bouncing down the stairs in what feels like slow motion. The world spins. Your merch shelves mock you from the distance. You land at the bottom in a heap, your soul floating just above your body.
"Is this… how it ends?" you wheeze, gasping for breath, more in shock than pain. As your vision starts to fade, all you can think is: I never made it to the Leona event….
And with that, you die. Crushed under the weight of fandom.
You wake up, and your first thought isn’t the usual, “Oh, I’ve been isekai’d into a new world, how fascinating, I’ll have time to adjust in a moment of peace and reflection.” No. You wake up and it hits you like a brick: Oh no. Female lead.
But then, a beam of hope breaks through the clouds of despair and shines down on you like a heavenly spotlight: Wait. Leona Kingscholar is here.
Before you can even revel in the thought of being in the same universe as your broody lion crush, reality smacks you upside the head. Loud voices are pulling you back to the scene unfolding right in front of your very eyes.
You blink. Hold on. This is not a bedroom, and this is definitely not a private moment to gather your thoughts like in every other isekai novel. Oh no, you’ve been thrown directly into the group project scene.
You know, the one where the villainess is sharpening her claws on the heroine while Leona watches from the sidelines like he’s two seconds away from a permanent nap? Yeah, you’re smack in the middle of it.
The villainess, looking as pissed off as usual, is glaring daggers at the trembling heroine, who is staring at you with those wide, teary eyes like you’re supposed to swoop in and save her from this verbal smackdown.
And that’s when it hits you: you’re the male lead. The original goody-two-shoes, justice-loving male lead who always stepped in to defend the heroine. The one who got suckered into every cliché moment, complete with sparkles and heroic speeches about morality and blah blah blah.
Not you, though.
You take one look at the heroine. She’s giving you this look like you’re her knight in shining armor, expecting you to throw yourself in front of her and deliver some dramatic monologue about kindness and decency. And you? You're mentally checking out of this scene faster than the speed of light.
Nah. You’re not about that life.
Your gaze drifts to Leona, sitting on the far side of the room, slouched over like he’s wondering why he’s being subjected to this emotional soap opera when he could be napping. His face screams "done," and honestly? Same. He meets your gaze, eyes half-lidded and bored, probably hoping you’ll do the usual male lead routine and put an end to this nonsense.
But oh no, today’s different.
You casually stroll over to where Leona is sitting, ignoring the drama unfolding behind you. With the swagger of someone who knows exactly what they’re about to do is going to blow some minds, you hold out your hand to him. "So, uh… you want to ditch this disaster and go take a nap? Or maybe raid the kitchens? I’m thinking we play hooky and pretend this never happened."
Leona’s eyes flicker with surprise for half a second. The male lead? The goody-two-shoes-moral-compass of the entire plot? The guy who literally lived to stop drama in its tracks? Is offering to blow off this whole mess? He raises an eyebrow, smirking like the cat who caught the canary.
"Didn’t think you had it in you," Leona drawls, but you can tell he’s already down for this. "Alright. Let’s go. If anyone asks, I’m gonna say you dragged me out."
"Deal," you say, trying not to look too smug. And with that, you turn on your heel, and with Leona at your side, you head for the door, leaving behind a shell-shocked villainess and a teary-eyed heroine who’s probably still processing the fact that her supposed knight in shining armor just dipped.
As you and Leona stroll out, you hear the villainess mutter, “What… just happened?” and you can’t help but grin. You may have just turned the plot upside down, but at least you’re doing it in style.
"Hey, Leona," you say, nudging him, "think we can find some of those fancy desserts in the kitchen? I’m starving."
Leona snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "If you’re buying, sure."
And just like that, the male lead and the second male lead walk off into the sunset—or rather, the campus courtyard—hand in hand with a new mission: Avoiding all future plot nonsense at all costs.
You’re not sure how you got here, staring at the over-the-top ball decorations like you’ve stepped into a bargain bin fairytale, but hey, life has taken a weird turn lately. You, of all people, are living out the plot of a novel so cliché it makes your head hurt.
But you guess that’s what happens when you get isekai’d into a second-rate villainess story. The only thing missing is a glass slipper and some woodland creatures to sing with.
And of course, surprise! The ball isn’t just some casual evening of sipping punch and avoiding the villainess’s death stares. No, if you don’t nail the ball, you don’t graduate. Because nothing says "academic achievement" like knowing how to waltz while dressed like a background character from Bridgerton.
So here you are, in ball lessons, where everyone is nervously pairing off while you’re trying not to roll your eyes into another dimension. The heroine, with her usual doe-eyed sparkle, gets paired with you first. And let’s be real: she’s either terrible at dancing, or she’s using this as an excuse to get you to hold her close.
But you? Oh no. You’ve read enough of this garbage to know where that’s going, and you have zero interest in playing out the “close embrace, sparks flying, almost-kiss” trope. Absolutely not.
As soon as the music starts, you decide it’s time to act. You let your feet stumble—deliberately, of course—and flail around like you’ve never seen a ballroom floor in your life. The heroine, bless her clueless heart, giggles like she thinks you’re just being cute, but you’re not about to humor this. When the instructor’s eyes lock onto you, you seize the opportunity.
"Oh no!" you say dramatically, throwing a hand over your forehead like you’re in some kind of soap opera. "I’m so bad at this. Could someone please teach me how to dance?"
You pause, glance around the room, and then lock eyes with Leona Kingscholar.
"Leona!" you shout, loud enough that the whole room freezes. "You’re the second prince! You must’ve had etiquette lessons, right? Teach me how to dance!"
The room collectively loses its mind. The heroine looks like you’ve just slapped her with a glove and challenged her to a duel. The villainess is staring at you like you’ve lost your marbles. And Leona? Leona’s expression is somewhere between utter confusion and why me.
Leona leans back, crossing his arms, visibly annoyed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters, but there’s no denying the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth when he sees the heroine and villainess get shoved into an awkward dancing pair together.
Despite his clear irritation, Leona steps forward, because let’s face it, he’s the kind of guy who’ll humor you if it means avoiding worse drama. You slide into position with him, and honestly? You’re in heaven. You can barely focus on your feet, too busy trying to hide your grin while you imagine all the drama this is causing behind you.
Meanwhile, the heroine and the villainess are floundering around, tripping over each other like they’ve got two left feet each. The villainess is grinding her teeth, and the heroine keeps stepping on her toes. It’s a glorious disaster.
Leona, despite his annoyance, is surprisingly good at this. He’s leading with the kind of effortless grace that makes you wonder how someone so lazy can still be so competent at everything. You’re definitely not staring at his sharp features while he dances, not at all.
"You do realize this is a waste of time, right?" Leona grumbles under his breath, his eyes flicking to the chaos unfolding behind you. "Why me, herbivore? You could’ve asked anyone else."
You just shrug, trying not to sound too smug. "What can I say? I have excellent taste in dance partners."
Leona’s brow twitches like he’s torn between smirking and rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." But the smirk wins out, especially when the villainess and heroine fumble yet again, nearly toppling over each other.
You glance up at him, beaming. Leona Kingscholar might be annoyed, but he’s not stopping anytime soon. And you? You’re just here for the ride, watching the heroine and villainess self-destruct from the safety of Leona’s arms.
Ball lessons? Piece of cake.
You’ve been doing everything humanly possible to avoid the female lead like she’s a carrier of the medieval plague. You thought you’d be safe here, hiding behind your “I’m too busy and mysterious for romance” persona, but no—somehow—the more you avoid her, the more she’s convinced that you’re the dark, brooding, irresistible male lead she’s always dreamed of.
You know, the type who avoids emotional connections but secretly harbors a heart of gold. But the truth is, you’re just a guy trying to get through the day so you can swoon over Leona Kingscholar in peace.
It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it either. You’ve been dropping hints left and right, hoping the universe would give you a break and let the female lead fall in love with literally anyone else. But no. Somehow, everyone is ignoring your very obvious affection for Leona.
It’s like you’re stuck in a tragic comedy where the female lead falls harder for you the more you try to disappear, and Leona just… well, he’s just living his best life, completely unaware of your internal screaming.
Take the latest tea party, for example. You were just trying to enjoy some pastries, maybe steal a glance at Leona from across the table, when the heroine decides to make her move. She picks up a delicate slice of cake and holds it out to you, eyes sparkling with that innocent-yet-hopeful look that says, “This is our moment.”
You? You’re not having any of that. Nope. No way. You’re not about to be part of this rom-com narrative. So, without missing a beat, you casually take the cake from her and, in one smooth motion, turn and offer it to Leona, who’s lounging lazily next to you, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Leona raises an eyebrow at you, clearly baffled by why you’re holding out cake like he’s some sort of royal who expects to be hand-fed. “What are you doing?” he mutters, looking suspiciously between you and the cake.
“Just thought you’d like some,” you say with a straight face, ignoring the heroine’s stunned expression. She’s sitting there, fork still poised in the air, blinking rapidly like you’ve just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.
Leona huffs, looking mildly irritated but mostly confused. After a pause, he shrugs and leans forward, taking a bite of the cake without even bothering to lift his own hand. “Whatever,” he mutters between chews. “Tastes fine.”
You nod, satisfied. Meanwhile, the heroine looks like she’s on the verge of tears, and the villainess is smirking in the background like she’s about to take out popcorn and enjoy the drama.
Later that day, you find a nice, quiet spot under a tree to relax. You’ve managed to avoid any major incidents so far, and for once, you’re not being dragged into some dramatic showdown. You lie back, close your eyes, and just let yourself chill. But, of course, the universe doesn’t want you to have peace.
Enter Leona.
Without a word, he flops down next to you, takes one look at your position, and decides—out of all the places he could sit—that your lap is the best pillow option available. You feel his head plop down on your lap like this is the most normal thing in the world. You stare down at him, completely dumbfounded, while he just closes his eyes and lets out a long, satisfied sigh.
“Leona?” you start, voice half bewildered, half amused. “You good?”
“Shut up,” he mutters without opening his eyes. “You’re more comfortable than the grass.”
You blink at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Meanwhile, the villainess strolls by, spots the two of you under the tree, and comes to an immediate halt. Her face contorts into a mix of disbelief and confusion, like she’s just witnessed something unholy. You can almost hear her mental scream of, what the hell is going on here?!
She doesn’t say anything, though. Just stands there, hands clenched, before turning on her heel and storming off. You don’t even care. You’re too busy reveling in the fact that Leona chose your lap as his personal resting place. If that isn’t a win, you don’t know what is.
And then, of course, there’s the infamous hallway incident. The heroine—who, by this point, you’re pretty sure has developed some kind of radar for finding you—comes running toward you. She trips over something (the air? her own foot? you don’t know) and launches herself straight into your arms in what is clearly an attempt to trigger some rom-com, slow-motion embrace.
But you? You’re not here for this.
With the reflexes of a seasoned avoider, you sidestep her dramatic fall, and she goes face-first into the floor. There’s a stunned silence as she lies there, unmoving, probably processing how she ended up eating dirt.
You glance over at Leona, who’s watching the whole thing with a lazy smirk, clearly enjoying the trainwreck. You give him a slight nod of approval, and he just rolls his eyes, a small grin still tugging at his lips.
The villainess, standing a few feet away, is laughing her head off. She’s doubled over, clutching her stomach, while the heroine’s dignity is scattered all over the floor. But you? You’re just staring at Leona, completely ignoring the chaos around you.
Somehow, despite all the madness, you can’t help but think: this is fine.
The day of the big spelldrive match arrives, and the heroine has never looked more confident in her life. She’s decked out in her team’s colors, standing tall at the edge of the field, waiting for you to join her in your usual spot. You know, like a loyal dog. A loyal, obedient dog who always does what she expects.
But not today.
Today, you roll up to the game decked out head to toe in full Savanaclaw merch. We're talking a custom jersey with Leona’s name on the back, a headband, face paint, and—just to really emphasize the point—a Savanaclaw banner tied around your neck like you’ve decided to cosplay as Captain Lion Fang.
You take your seat in the Savanaclaw section and immediately start hyping up the crowd like you’re getting paid for it. The heroine spots you from across the field and stares like she’s watching a crime scene unfold in real-time. Meanwhile, Leona’s already spotted you, and the smug smirk on his face tells you he’s LOVING the attention.
The game kicks off, and with each goal Leona scores, you’re going feral.
You’re screaming your lungs out, waving your banner around like you’re auditioning for some weird mascot gig. People are looking at you like you’ve lost your mind, but you don’t care. This is YOUR moment.
Leona, on the field, is living for it. Every time he glances your way, he adds a little extra flair to his plays, just to make you scream louder. He scores, and you’re on your feet, jumping up and down like you’ve won the lottery.
At this point, the heroine is practically catatonic. Her world is crumbling before her eyes. You can practically see her brain struggling to process what she’s witnessing: you, her loyal supporter, decked out in Savanaclaw gear and cheering for her rival.
“I... I don’t understand…” she whispers, her voice trembling like she’s been betrayed by the universe itself. “Why aren’t you cheering for us?”
You turn to her with all the nonchalance of someone who’s just ordered fries at a drive-thru. “Uh… Leona’s hot?”
It’s like you slapped her across the face with a wet fish. She stands there, frozen, her eyes wide, like she’s witnessing the fall of an empire. "B-But... you're supposed to support me!"
Before you can reply with another devastating truth bomb, Leona casually strolls over after winning the game, looking like he just walked out of a perfume ad. His hair’s tousled, a thin sheen of sweat making him look even more annoyingly handsome. He stops in front of you, smirking like he’s been planning this moment his entire life.
"Didn’t know you were my biggest fan," he drawls, voice low and lazy. “Gotta say, I’m impressed with your enthusiasm. Screamin’ my name like that… kinda hard to ignore.”
You open your mouth, ready to fire back with something witty, but what comes out is more of a high-pitched squeak, followed by, “Hahaha, Y-Yeah… you’re welcome?”
And then, the words that break you: “How ‘bout we celebrate with a nap?”
Your brain freezes. A nap? You? With Leona? Your heart is doing cartwheels while the rest of your organs are busy melting into a puddle. Your mouth is moving, but all that comes out is an unintelligible “Uhhuhmm.”
Leona chuckles, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. He reaches out, grabbing your wrist, and starts dragging you off with him—right in front of everyone. He doesn’t even care that the entire field is watching. He’s already made up his mind.
The heroine, meanwhile, is standing there in stunned silence, her brain fully blue-screening as she watches you and Leona disappear. She’s still processing the Leona’s comment when the villainess, who has been observing this whole disaster unfold, finally chimes in from the sidelines with a shrug.
“Well, as long as it’s not the heroine,” she says, flicking her hair back with an air of satisfaction. “This is fine.”
And off you go, being dragged to a nap date you’re definitely not mentally prepared for, your face burning hotter than the sun. Leona glances back at you, that smug smirk still plastered on his face. "You’re lookin’ a little red there. You sure you’re up for this?"
You sputter, tripping over your own words. "I-I’m fine! Totally fine! Nap? Cool! Casual napping! No big deal!”
Leona just chuckles again, clearly entertained by how much you're floundering. “If you say so. Just don’t pass out before we get there.”
Yeah. Don’t pass out. Easier said than done when the man of your dreams is casually dragging you off to nap like it's no big deal while your brain screams at you in ten different languages.
This is fine. Totally fine. You’re fine.
Maybe.
You were sitting with Jack and Ruggie at the cafeteria, chatting about nothing in particular—well, Jack was chatting. Ruggie was there purely because you promised to pay for his lunch. Still, you’d like to think that maybe, just maybe, he stuck around because he actually enjoyed your company. Maybe.
“So, any tips on how to deal with midterms?” Jack asked, ears twitching as he looked at you with that wide-eyed eagerness that only first-years ever had. He was honestly like a giant puppy, trying so hard to be good.
You leaned back in your chair, doing your best impression of a wise and worldly senior, which mostly involved pretending you weren’t sweating about your own midterms. “My advice? Caffeine. And if you have the chance to sleep, take it. Oh, and don’t forget to eat. I learned that one the hard way.”
Jack nodded seriously, committing it all to memory like you were passing down sacred knowledge. Meanwhile, Ruggie was on his third helping of food, barely acknowledging the conversation.
"Hey, if you're handing out wisdom, how ‘bout you tell me how to get free food more often?” Ruggie said between bites, shooting you a cheeky grin.
“Isn’t that already your specialty?” you shot back, eyeing the mountain of food in front of him.
He just laughed. “Can’t argue with that, but having backup plans never hurt.”
Before you could respond, you felt a shadow fall over the table. You looked up, half expecting it to be the heroine or some random classmate, but nope. It was Leona. Leona, who you were 99% sure had skipped class because he always skips class. And he looked… annoyed?
Oh no.
He ignored Jack and Ruggie completely, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you like you’d committed some grave crime. “Oi, herbivore,” he drawled, hands in his pockets like this wasn’t weird at all. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” you asked, blinking up at him. Leona never approached people unless he wanted something.
“To the tree,” he said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“The tree?” Jack echoed, ears perking up in confusion.
Ruggie, on the other hand, was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Oho~ Someone’s in demand.”
Leona shot Ruggie a look that could’ve curdled milk. “Shut it, Ruggie.”
Your brain was still trying to process the situation. You were sitting here, minding your own business, giving sage advice about caffeine and survival, and now Leona was dragging you off to his tree like it was completely normal?
He didn’t wait for an answer. He just grabbed your wrist, yanking you up from your seat as if this was some kind of kidnap situation, and started walking toward the courtyard.
“Uh—Leona? What’s going on?” you asked, doing your best to keep up without tripping over your own feet.
Leona didn’t even look back. “You’re talkin’ too much. Need some peace and quiet.”
You blinked, thoroughly confused but not necessarily mad about being dragged off. It’s just… “Why am I involved in your nap plans?”
“’Cause I said so.”
Wow, cryptic. You were about to ask again when you reached the tree. The infamous Leona nap spot. He plopped down against the trunk and, before you could protest, pulled you down next to him. Without another word, he stretched out and—because apparently boundaries didn’t exist—rested his head on your lap.
This was… This was happening.
You glanced around, half expecting to see a camera crew pop out and tell you this was some elaborate prank, but nope. Leona was lounging on you like it was the most natural thing in the world, eyes already closed, arms crossed behind his head.
“Uh, Leona?”
“Shut up. M’ tryin’ to sleep.”
You stared down at him, your brain short-circuiting. This was the third time this week he’d done this. Just… kidnapped you for a nap. What was his deal? Was your lap particularly comfortable? Did you radiate some kind of sleepy aura? What was going on here?
Meanwhile, from the distance, you spotted her. The villainess. Watching. For the third time in as many days. And you could see it. You could see the moment she put the pieces together. Her eyes widened in slow realization, her lips twitching into a smirk. She knew. She finally knew.
When Leona finally woke up—after what felt like hours of you sitting there, too dazed to move—you were free. For now. He stretched lazily and gave you a casual “Thanks,” as if this wasn’t the most bizarre situation you’d ever been in, and you quickly scrambled away, making your way back to the dorms with your head spinning.
And that’s when the villainess cornered you.
Oh no.
There she was, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing look, her sharp gaze trained on you like a predator sizing up its prey. You swallowed nervously. She was about to confront you about the heroine, wasn’t she? This was it. This was the moment. Was she going to declare some rivalry? Challenge you to a duel? Confess to you? Make this whole thing painfully awkward?
She smiled, and it was not the evil grin you were expecting. “I’m on your side.”
You blinked. “…What?”
She pushed off the wall, stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with a new kind of intensity. “Leona. I know you’re after him.”
Your heart stopped. This was it. She was going to call you out and—wait, what did she just say?
“I’ll help you confess to Leona,” she said, matter-of-factly. “On one condition.”
You were staring at her like she’d just sprouted wings and started speaking in tongues. “You… will?”
She nodded. “Yes. If you help me become more influential than that heroine, I’ll help you get Leona to notice you more.”
You blinked again, processing her words. She wanted your help to outshine the heroine, and in exchange, she’d be your wingwoman? Wingwoman?!
You grinned, holding out your hand for a dramatic shake. “Hell yeah.”
She clasped your hand, her smile mirroring yours. "Consider it a deal."
And just like that, you walked away from the most unexpected alliance of your life, fully equipped with a villainess-turned-wingwoman and a new plan to win over Leona.
Honestly? Life was getting weirder by the day.
“Okay, so just to confirm,” Ruggie’s eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “You want us to sit through this poetry reading,” he said, drawing out the word like it was some cursed phrase, “and cheer for the villainess. And in return, I get all the food left over?”
“Yup,” you nodded, trying to keep a straight face.
“And Jack’s here because…?”
“I asked him nicely.”
Jack shrugged, tail flicking behind him. “I’m just here to help.”
Ruggie snorted, glancing at you with a grin. “This better be some damn good poetry then. And the food better be worth it.”
“Oh, trust me,” you said, patting Ruggie on the back. “It will be.”
Little did you know, this was going to be a disaster of epic proportions.
The poetry reading started as expected—with the heroine striding up to the front of the room, practically glowing under the dim spotlight. She cleared her throat, clasped her hands dramatically, and began.
“It was a night… much like tonight…”
Your first instinct was to cringe, but you held it in, glancing sideways at Jack and Ruggie. Jack was doing his best to stay stoic, but you could see his ears twitching in discomfort. Ruggie had his hand over his mouth, clearly biting back laughter.
The poem continued, painfully dragging on about stars and roses and something about “destiny’s kiss.” By the time she reached the end, there was a collective sigh of relief from the audience. You weren’t even sure what you had just listened to, but you knew it wasn’t good.
Jack… Jack was crying. You stared at him, horrified. “Are you okay?”
“It’s… it’s so bad,” he sniffed, wiping his eyes. “I didn’t know poetry could be this bad.”
Ruggie had his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “This is better than I thought,” he wheezed.
You shot him a look, but even you had to admit, this was pure comedy gold. Poor Jack had no idea what hit him.
The villainess, bless her heart, was watching all of this unfold with a look of shock and confusion, but when it was finally her turn to read, she stepped up like a queen. Her voice was smooth, the words flowing like silk, and you couldn’t help but be genuinely impressed. She absolutely killed it.
The plan was working perfectly. You and your crew started clapping, cheering like you were at a rock concert. Jack, who was still recovering from the emotional trauma of the heroine’s poem, clapped too, albeit more quietly.
But just as you were about to get even louder, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Oi, sit down,” Leona grumbled, pulling you back into your seat.
“What—?”
He didn’t offer any explanation, just kept you firmly seated next to him, his face set in a bored expression. You blinked in confusion but decided not to argue. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy sitting next to Leona… it was just weird.
And by the grin the villainess was sporting, it seems like everything went exactly according to plan. Both for her and you.
After the poetry reading wrapped up, you gathered the leftovers like you promised. Ruggie was already hovering around, practically drooling over the spread.
“Here, take it all,” you said, handing the basket over. “Deal’s a deal.”
Ruggie beamed, clutching the food to his chest like a treasure hoard. “Pleasure doing business with ya!”
Jack was much more polite, bowing his head slightly. “Thanks for the notes. They’ll be a big help.”
“Anytime,” you replied with a smile, watching the two of them head off. Ruggie was already halfway through a sandwich, talking a mile a minute, while Jack followed along, still looking like he might need therapy after the heroine’s performance.
That left you alone… with Leona, who had been standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.
“What?” you asked, half-expecting him to complain about something. He always had something to complain about.
“You mind explaining what the hell that was?”
“Uh… what do you mean?”
Leona’s tail flicked in irritation, his eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about you, whispering and giggling with that villainess all the time. What, you after her now that you ditched the heroine?”
You blinked at him, utterly baffled. “What? No, of course not. Why would I be after her?”
Leona’s jaw clenched. “You tell me. All I’ve seen is you hangin’ around with her, whispering, plottin’... I’ve seen how you look at her.”
It took a moment for your brain to catch up, but then it hit you like a ton of bricks.
Oh my god. He was jealous.
A slow grin spread across your face as the realization sunk in. Leona, Leona Kingscholar, was jealous. And over you.
Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’re jealous~.”
Leona froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. “What?”
“You’re jealous,” you repeated, giddiness bubbling up inside you. You could barely contain your excitement. “You’re jealous of me hanging out with the villainess!”
Leona’s lips pulled into a thin line. “You’re imagining things.”
“Oh no, no, no,” you grinned even wider, poking him in the chest. “You’re totally jealous!”
Leona growled, looking thoroughly annoyed now, but before he could snap back, you quickly explained. “Look, I made a deal with her. I help her become more influential than the heroine, and she helps me… confess to you.”
Leona blinked, taken aback, his tail flicking behind him as if processing the information. Then, in true Leona fashion, his expression shifted from irritation to smugness in record time.
“Oh?”
You sighed, shaking your head. “Yeah, so you don’t have to worry about me chasing after anyone else.”
Leona stepped closer, his voice dropping low, that usual lazy drawl making your heart do a little flip. “Good. But just so you know, cheek kisses aren’t real kisses.”
Before you could ask what he meant, Leona leaned in and kissed you���properly kissed you. Your eyes went wide for a second before you melted into it, feeling the heat of his lips against yours. He pulled back after what felt like forever, a smirk on his face as he watched you try to catch your breath.
“There. That’s a real kiss,” he murmured, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
You stared at him, dazed, and then a sudden realization hit you.
You left your entire life behind, all for this moment.
And you were so, so glad that stupid plushie was on the floor, because this? This was totally worth it.
The heroine’s voice was as sweet as it was grating, like sugar poured directly into your ears. She fluttered her eyelashes at you, her smile stretched painfully wide. “So, I was thinking,” she began, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “You would make the perfect knight for my family! Don’t you think so?”
You blinked, trying to figure out a way to escape. “Uh… I’m kind of busy with, you know, my own life?”
“Oh, but imagine!” she gushed, not hearing a word you said. “We’d be so close all the time—like, so close. You could protect me, and maybe… we could have a picnic under the stars? Very romantic, right?”
Your soul was trying to leave your body. You were pretty sure Jack’s ears twitched somewhere nearby, sensing your pain telepathically. And then, like a gift from the heavens, the villainess—your beloved accomplice in all things anti-heroine—made her appearance.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, stepping between you and the heroine with the grace of someone who had seen this movie before and knew exactly how to cut to the good parts. “But I need them for an urgent matter. A very important, not-at-all-romantic-but-very-necessary mission.”
You shot her a look of pure gratitude, but before she could fully rescue you from the heroine’s death trap of unwanted flirting, a shadow loomed over the scene. A very familiar shadow.
Leona.
Without saying a word, he strode up behind you and casually wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest with an ease that had your heart skipping a beat. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his sharp green eyes fixed on the heroine.
“Oh no, carry on,” he said lazily, but his tone was anything but. “I’m just here to see what my mate is up to.”
The heroine blinked in shock, her hands hovering mid-air as if she had no idea what to do with this development. “Y-Your mate?”
“Yeah,” Leona said, tightening his grip around you, his smirk downright feral. “So whatever little fantasy you’re cooking up about romantic picnics or whatever—cut it out. This one’s mine.”
You felt Leona’s lips brush against your temple before he leaned in and, in full view of the now-utterly-horrified heroine, kissed the side of your neck. Slowly. Possessively.
You could almost hear the villainess muffling a laugh behind her hand.
The heroine’s face turned several shades of red as she stammered. “B-But I—”
“You,” Leona said, his tone dripping with amusement, “can fuck right off.”
The heroine gasped, her hand flying to her chest like she’d been physically struck. “You can’t just say that to me!”
Leona raised a brow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “I’m literally the second prince. I can say whatever the hell I want.”
The heroine opened her mouth to argue, but then realized that, no, actually, she couldn’t argue with the literal second prince staking his claim. She sputtered for a moment before storming off, no doubt to sob dramatically about her dashed romantic hopes.
Once she was out of sight, the villainess finally let out a snort of laughter. “That was beautiful.”
Leona ignored her, his grip still firm around you as he leaned down to whisper, “Next time, you won’t need her to help you out. Just say my name, and I’ll be there to deal with the pests.”
You stared at him, a little dazed from the whole whirlwind of possessiveness, public displays of affection, and telling someone to ‘fuck right off.’ “You really went for it, huh?”
Leona smirked, leaning in for another kiss. “Damn right I did. And don’t you forget it.”
Somewhere behind you, the villainess was still giggling. You were pretty sure this was going to be gossip for weeks.
But honestly? Totally worth it.
Graduation day—the moment where everyone’s future plans would be declared, and all the chess pieces would fall into place. Or, in your case, the moment where you’d cause absolute chaos.
The grand hall was filled with eager anticipation. Everyone was dressed in their formal graduation robes, students buzzing with excitement over their new titles and responsibilities.
Leona, as expected, lounged at the back like a lion who had better things to do, half-asleep. Villainess stood tall and composed, already plotting her return to her family's estate. Heroine was in full glowing mode, ready to take her place as the beloved of the Grand Duchy.
And you? You stood at the podium, trying not to laugh. You knew what you were about to say would flip this graduation upside down.
One by one, people made their announcements.
When it was finally your turn, all eyes turned to you. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath, knowing the original male lead—you—was supposed to be the retainer of the heroine. It was all set, all according to plan, right?
Wrong.
You cleared your throat, glanced briefly at Leona who smirked lazily, and then made the declaration that would throw this script straight out the window. “I’ve decided to serve as Prince Leona’s right-hand man, personal secretary, and...well, whatever he needs.”
The silence that followed was glorious. Pure, dumbfounded silence.
King Falena, sitting in the front row, visibly blinked. Once. Twice. He tilted his head slightly, confusion written all over his usually composed face. “What?” he muttered, looking like someone just told him a desert hyena had enrolled in ballet school.
Leona, however, didn’t even open his eyes. He just smirked, crossing his arms smugly. “Told ya he’d choose me,” he murmured, almost too casually for someone who’d just stolen the original male lead’s entire plotline.
Falena’s gaze flicked between you and Leona, still processing. Then, slowly, realization dawned. He saw that look on Leona’s face—the one that said “mine, and I dare anyone to challenge it.” King Falena’s confusion morphed into surprise and then, with the subtlety of a royal diplomat, resignation. “Oh…” he whispered, finally understanding. “He’s down bad.”
Leona cracked an eye open just to catch his brother’s expression and grinned wider, like a cat who knew exactly what kind of bird it had in its claws.
Your parents, bless them, were in the crowd with expressions of supportive confusion. Your mother was squinting as if trying to work out if this was some sort of royal prank. Your father leaned in toward her, whispering loudly enough for the entire row to hear, “It’s a royal job, right? That’s prestigious?”
“Yeah, but… Leona?” your mom whispered back.
At this point, the heroine stood up, ready to throw a wrench into the works. “Wait! You’re supposed to be my—"
Before she could finish, the villainess, in all her dramatic glory, made her move. With the grace of a queen and the audacity of a mastermind, she stepped right up to the heroine, flipped her luxurious hair, and said, “Actually, I was going to ask you out.”
You blinked. Wait, what?
The entire room gasped. You could almost hear heads snapping toward the villainess like a collective whip crack.
Heroine’s mouth opened and closed like she was a fish drowning in air. “I—what?”
“Dinner. Candlelight. Maybe a picnic. You and me, a date. Sound good?” The villainess winked with such charm that even the professors in the back were wide-eyed.
Heroine blinked rapidly, as if trying to reboot her brain. “Uh… sure?” she squeaked, still reeling from the fact that her entire romantic arc had just gotten hijacked.
You stared at the villainess in pure confusion. “What just happened?” you whispered, looking at her for an explanation.
The villainess simply turned to you with a mischievous grin, giving you a sly thumbs-up like this had been part of her master plan all along.
You were still processing the fact that you were witnessing the greatest plot twist of all time. You returned a half-hearted, bewildered thumbs-up, unsure if this was a win or not.
Meanwhile, the professors up front were clearly on their last thread of patience. The head of the academy rubbed his temples, sighing deeply as if this whole day had aged him a decade. “That’s it,” he said, voice strained with exhaustion. “Everyone’s graduated. Just...leave. Please.”
And with that, the ceremony abruptly ended. You couldn’t help but laugh at the professor’s exasperation as the crowd started to disperse, still buzzing with gossip.
Leona slid up next to you, his hand casually resting on your waist as you walked out of the hall together. “So, my right-hand man, huh?”
You shrugged. “Figured I might as well make it official.”
Leona smirked, leaning down to murmur in your ear, “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
And then he kissed you. In front of everyone.
King Falena, witnessing this public display of territorial claims, just shook his head with a resigned sigh. “Well, as long as it’s official…” he muttered, casting an approving glance toward you. “Congratulations, I guess.”
Your parents were still in shock, but when they saw that it was a royal seal of approval, they immediately switched gears. “A royal job!” your mom whispered excitedly. “That’s so prestigious!”
With that, Leona tugged you away from the chaos, his arm never leaving your waist as you walked toward the exit. You glanced back one last time to see the heroine still staring blankly at the villainess, who had now looped her arm around her like it was the most normal thing in the world.
The head of the academy, now red in the face, shouted after you as you reached the door, “I SAID EVERYONE GO, FOR THE LOVE OF THE GREAT SEVEN!”
You walked out into the sunlight, trying not to laugh, while Leona leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured smugly, “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.
It was a day like any other, except you were meeting the villainess in her newly acquired estate. She had officially taken over as the head of her family, and the new title suited her all too well. The whole place screamed, I am in charge, with a side of don’t even think about challenging me unless you want to cry in public. You admired the aesthetic.
The villainess greeted you with her usual regal flair, sweeping into the room like she’d been born to dominate it—which, to be fair, she had. She offered you tea, which you politely declined, sensing that this wasn’t just a casual catch-up.
"So, what's new with you, Lady Villainess?” you asked, leaning back, fully expecting some grand declaration about her political conquests or business victories.
She smiled—a dangerous, knowing smile that made you immediately suspicious. "Well, I wanted to tell you something rather... unexpected."
You raised an eyebrow. Unexpected? Coming from her? That had to be good.
"I'm dating the heroine," she said casually, sipping her tea as if she hadn't just dropped the biggest plot twist since the whole 'villainess takes over' arc.
You nearly choked on absolutely nothing, mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief. "Wait. What?"
She smiled serenely, her expression the perfect picture of innocence—which made it all the more ridiculous. “Yes, darling. The heroine and I are officially a couple.”
You blinked. “The same heroine who couldn’t tell a poisoned apple from a regular one if her life depended on it?”
“The very same.”
“The one who gets lost in her own estate if she turns too many corners?”
“Yes, that one.”
You couldn't help it. The sheer absurdity of the situation hit you, and you burst out laughing. "Oh, that is rich. How in the world did that happen?”
The villainess leaned back, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “Oh, it was simple, really. I realized I was always drawn to her... naiveté. And once I stopped trying to sabotage her every move, well, things just fell into place.”
You were still laughing, shaking your head in disbelief. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you two, but this is the best thing I’ve heard in weeks.”
The villainess gave you a mock glare. “Don’t act so surprised. I’ve always had impeccable taste.”
“Oh, impeccable taste, huh?” you teased. “I just didn’t expect it to lead you straight to a walking ball of sunshine.”
“Well, someone needs to keep her from wandering into traffic.”
Still snickering, you stood up. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re a saint for dealing with her.”
“I know,” she sighed dramatically, “but love makes us do ridiculous things.”
"Tell me about it," you muttered, still amused. You waved goodbye and promised to catch up later, your mind reeling from this new, absolutely hilarious development.
When you got back to the palace, you found Leona lounging in his usual spot, sprawled out on a couch like a lion that had just taken over the whole savannah. He barely glanced up as you walked in, already sensing the amused energy radiating off you.
“You’re grinning like an idiot,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “What happened?”
You plopped down next to him, barely containing your laughter. “You won’t believe this. The villainess is dating the heroine now.”
Leona’s eyes flicked open, and for a split second, he looked like he didn’t believe you. Then, slowly, a smirk spread across his face as he processed the information. “You’re messing with me.”
“Nope. Dead serious. They’re a couple now. In love.” You leaned in, grinning. “The villainess—ice queen herself—is head over heels for Miss Pure Sunshine.”
Leona actually chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. Never saw that one coming.”
“I know, right? It’s the most chaotic thing ever, and I am living for it.”
Leona’s smirk turned into a full-on grin, which was rare enough to be considered a national treasure. He shifted, sitting up slightly. “You think we’ll get an invite to the wedding?”
You snorted. “Oh, you bet. I’m going to be front row just to see how she manages to keep the heroine from accidentally setting her own dress on fire.”
Leona’s laugh rumbled low in his chest, and he reached out, grabbing your wrist. “Come here,” he ordered, tugging you toward him.
“What? No, I’ve got work to do,” you protested weakly, but your protests didn’t mean much when he effortlessly pulled you into his lap.
“Work can wait. This is more important,” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around you in a possessive hug that made it very clear you weren’t going anywhere.
You sighed, leaning into him. “You just want to cuddle, don’t you?”
“I want you to stop running around and actually relax for once,” he retorted, resting his chin on top of your head. “Besides, it’s not like the kingdom’s gonna fall apart if we take a break.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I should get a promotion. I’m basically doing all the work around here.”
Leona chuckled again, his grip tightening just slightly. “Yeah, well, don’t let Falena hear that. He might actually make you his advisor, and then I’ll never get any alone time with you.”
You snorted. “Oh please, you’d just kidnap me from work if that happened.”
“Damn right,” he muttered, his voice low and satisfied. “You’re mine, remember?”
You felt your heart do that annoying flutter thing as Leona’s possessive tone settled over you. Even when he was being a lazy lion, he made you feel like the most important thing in his life. It was comforting—and kind of hilarious, considering how little he cared about everything else.
The room fell into a comfortable silence, and for once, you actually allowed yourself to relax, leaning into Leona’s warmth. His arms tightened around you again, and you could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he started to drift off into a nap, his grip never loosening.
As you closed your eyes, you couldn’t help but think that, despite all the absurdities in your life—from slipping on a plushie to your best friend falling in love with her former rival—you wouldn’t trade any of it. Not for the world.
And as Leona’s breath slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep, you allowed yourself a small, contented smile.
Life was chaotic. But it was also perfect.
Series Masterlist ; Masterlist
Idia won the previous poll! Now for the next,
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x you#leona kingscholar#leona#trash novel chronicles#isekai#m!reader
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LOWKEY. ◦ prev. next.
eight. gacha ahh music
❛ in which a concert you were tantalized by your friends into attending led to a one-night hook-up with band member, yu "karina" jimin, who was coincidentally a classmate, too. though incredulous and foolish, in karina's eyes, you were way too good to have you slipping through her fingers, but even so, she couldn't just act on it, leaving the two of you in an awkward predicament, keeping the feelings amidst lowkey. ❜
as you dismiss from your last period class, a grunt escaping your breath—finally, you thought, you felt as though the class was an entire bore. swinging your backpack over your shoulder, you leave the classroom, only for a girl to exclaim "boo!" popping up behind you. fuck, you felt your soul leave your body.
turning around, you face yu jimin, warmth spreading to your cheeks, as a sigh drifts from your lips, "christ, jimin!" you exhale, your hands firm against karina's chest to keep a distance between the two of you.
a wide, teasing smile tugs the corners of her lips, the girl's eyes creasing into small crescent moons, making you relent and huff. the korean girl was the textbook definition of whipped, as she giggles, "how was school?" sauntering through the hallways with you, she takes the books in your hands from you, carrying them herself.
you shrug, "boring—just like any other school day." heat curls on your cheeks at karina's gentle gesture of carrying your books herself, as you ease your weight against her. strolling through the hallways, you occasionally make small-talk with some students—mainly about student governmental affairs.
"real popular, aren't you?" she prods at your cheeks, poking them slightly. once you guys exited the school building, karina meekly shoves your extra books into her backpack. her hand remains slack at the small of your back, tenderly rubbing circles on it.
you softly hum, following the korean girl to wherever you guys were going. with your eyebrows furrowed and knitted, you ask, "where are we even going, rina!" you exclaim, eliciting a laugh from the musician. unconsciously, your hand interlocks with karina's, barely noticing it yourself.
"you'll see," the korean girl drawls on, her gaze flickering to your guys' hands before hastily returning to the streets. following karina, the girl eventually comes to a stop, a dark building flashing with the word, "arcade," coming into light.
the two of you eagerly enter the arcade, childish, animated smiles painting both your guys' faces. heading over to a machine, you immediately purchase a card with points to play games with, beaming a smile at the korean girl, which only makes her chuckle, her cheeks flushed.
before you could react, karina plops a headband onto the top of your head, sliding a matching one onto hers, as well. your gaze softens, "just know i'm really competitive, 'rina." with a small, portable digital camera in your hand, you begin to film, panning in on karina's face.
leaning against one of the claw machines, karina chuckles, "if i get you that, you owe me a favor, yeah?" to which, you nod, nudging her shoulder playfully. excitement washes over her face, as she starts the game, deftly checking the other sides of the machine to find the perfect spot.
pushing the button, the claw falls down onto one of the stuffed animals, making your breath hitch in anticipation. jimin's lips quirk up into a shit-eating grin, as she raises her hands up in enthusiasm, watching the stuffed animal fall into the slot.
"i told you i'd get it!" she exclaims, oozing with elation, as she grabs the stuffed animal, plopping it into your arms. the korean girl wraps her arm around your shoulders, gravitating towards you.
"okay—fine, fine, you were right, 'rina," you relent, huffing, as you can feel karina's hand drawing patterns on your back. heat subtly spreads to your cheeks, the same goofy smile lingering on the korean girl's face now on yours.
leading you to a skeeball machine, jimin wraps her arms around your waist gently, her head resting on your shoulder, "y'know how to play?" she whispers against your ear, as she takes the camera from your hands.
you protest meekly before shrugging and leaning further against the inclined lane, a ball in your dominant hand. her free hand curls around your dominant hand's wrist, using the game as an excuse to just hold your hand. karina pushes your arm upwards, helping you roll the ball to the highest amount of points.
"look, you're a natural!" the korean girl's face lit up, as she hovers over you, letting you roll the ball up yourself. watching you with heart eyes, she practically acts as your very own personal cheerleader—the korean girl whispering praise every few seconds.
as evening rolls in, the two of you find solace by the shore, one side of the earbuds in your ear, and the other in hers. the moon casts light onto the midnight hued water, the waves gently crashing. the world seems almost as though it was painted in strokes of a dark blue, the lake silver.
"y'know i'm posting this right?" you chuckle, leaning against the korean girl, as your head rests on her shoulder, watching ferries transcend through the shore.
jimin nods her head, "it'll be good promotion for our next song," she whispers, her hands interlocking with yours. turning to face each other, you two fixate on one-another's lips. reluctantly, you guys lean into one-another, desperately kissing each other in hungry, searing kisses.
her hand tenderly cups your chin, pulling away for a second, before capturing your lips once again. karina murmurs incoherent whispers against your lips, too immersed in kissing you to even realize they were incoherent.
"i'm like, way past my curfew," you giggle against her lips, your breath fanning over them, and before she could pull away and meekly apologize, you kiss her once again.
taglist. ୨ৎ @yeetaberry127 @yoontoonwhs @1luvkarina @sed7ction @stareaa
@cceanvvaves @ariiiiii8iiiii @nwjnsloona @yjiminswallet @nasyu-kookies
@saysirhc @secretcessy @sixflame438 @chaefims @saranglasses
@vrtualstar @awhrin @andaengjinlvr ( send an ask, or dm if you want to be tagged !! )
#୨ৎ AESPA — LOWKEY#fics .#kpop smau#smau#kpop imagines#kpop x reader#aespa smau#aespa imagines#karina smau#aespa karina x reader#yu jimin#karina x reader#yu jimin x reader
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Tumblr New Word Dictionary
I love new words. So here's a list of recently created words and idioms I have learned through tumblr (not all of these terms were invented on tumblr but that's where I learned them--the citations specify whether the term was coined by a specific post, or cite a source for where I first heard the term even if that is not necessarily where the term originated):
blorbo: a fictional character you're a fan of. Coined by thelustiestargonianmaid.
"I'm so hungry I could get banned from facebook": coined by babyslime in response to a Wil Wheaton post
GORIMM: Gross Older Relation I Must Marry. Source: bethanydelleman
hlep: when a disabled person asks for a specific kind of help and "they do something that is not what you ask for but is what they think you should have asked for ... Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hlep." Source: giantkillerjack's therapist.
horse fantasy: something that is theoretically possible unicorn fantasy: something that is definitely (or almost definitely) impossible. Source: bemusedlybespectacled.
zomancy: soup divination. Source: cryptotheism.
UFOs: unfinished objects--"something that is unfinished but in hibernation," as distinct from WIPs. Source: knitting community and bylambd.
autoenshittification: turning cars into digital extraction machines to steal your data and money through digital infrastructure and microchips, and the endless repair nightmare of digital car systems and cybersecurity vulnerabilities. Source: mostlysignssomeportents
nude: "when your clothes are off." naked: "when you're clothes are off when you're up to something." nakey: "when you are an animal and your collar has been removed." Source.
sideways fan: following a fandom second-hand. Source: capricorn-0mnikorn.
spoken Garamond: "the over-emphasized voice people use to read poems." Source: Frances Klein's friend.
nongry/nungry: when you're starving but also don't want to eat any of the food in your kitchen. Coined by tathrin.
scrumbling: scrolling on tumblr. Coined by the mum of anti-terf-posts.
window shipping: "any shipping done without actually watching/reading the work in question." Coined by lurker-no-more.
friend John / a Friend John answer: "when someone asks a relatively reasonable question in context and the enquiree 1) speaks at length without answering the question, and 2) implies the enquirer has injured the enquiree by even asking such a thing how could you." Coined by sileana.
bitism: a new school of media criticism which asks the simple question: is the work committed to the bit? Coined by linecoveredinjellyfish
snors d'oeuvre: having a little nap on the sofa before taking onseself to bed for main sleep. Coined by SJKSalisbury (can't find the tumblr repost now).
socratic terror: "what every athenian felt when they went down to the agora in the 5th century and saw an old man with a beard approaching them." Coined by lesbianshepard.
introvirtuous: "when you're introverted but have taken on numerous leadership and outgoing roles in your life." "I'm here to help. But I'd rather not be." "Someone around here has to get things done. and unfortunately it's going to be me." Coined by soundslikerhetorical.
grundlous: "of or pertaining to grundle." Coined by IMLIZY.
concretes: specific aspects of a character that persist across interpretations. The essential, structural essence that makes a character recognizable as the same person. Rarely physical traits; subjective. Coined by Ladylark and kayanem.
skeletonin: "the happiness chemical released when you see a ghoul or perhaps a ghost." Coined by gwentrification.
broflakes: "the weak, fragile 'alpha' males who are so easily threatened by strong women." Source: rickladd (can't find the tumblr reblog atm).
the planet of hats: "the thing where a people only have one thing going for them, like 'everyone wears a silly hat.'" Source: Star Trek fandom & TV tropes, learned via homonculus-argument.
feelings yakuza: "those who turn their personal discomfort into a social evil and try to erase the target completely." Source: Japanese fandom via マロミチャン.
Ship of Thesaurus / Rogetism: "When a student copies an essay online instead of writing it and then painstakingly changes every word to a synonym until the text no longer makes any sense." Coined by trek-tracks and Chris Sadler respectively.
Flemming's law / vibe dysphoria: "the most toxic person you've ever met over-relates to woodland creatures on social media." Coined by Chris Flemming and canadianwheatpirates.
fight with a gorilla: "any secret or invisible struggle." Coined by punksandcannonballers.
squimbus from my polls: the poll version of blorbo except for obscure fan favorite characters. Coined by yardsards.
pebbling: "the act of sending your friends & family little videos and tweets and memes you find online, like how penguins bring back pebbles to their little penguin loved ones." Source: NurseKelsey (can't find the tumblr reblog atm).
serpentineabouts: roundabouts that aren't round. Coined by paulgadzikowski.
luft: air equivalent of wet. Coined by questbedhead.
getting the good bologna: "when you experience something of better quality and then you’re doomed to no longer be satisfied." Coined by the family of kelssiel.
hypofixation: "the kind of things that you've autisticly decided you Do Not Care About." Antonym of hyperfixation. Coined by animate-mush.
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Drone Brothers - two become one
In the quiet, grey-skied town of Grimsby, there lived a man named Alex, who had grown accustomed to the solitary life. His flat, a sanctuary of order and discipline, reflected his meticulous nature. Each item had its place, from the gleaming kitchen utensils to the perfectly aligned books on his shelves. His daily routine was a well-oiled machine, with not a minute wasted. Alex worked from home, a programmer for a small, obscure company that specialized in digital security. His job was his life, or so it seemed to the unknowing eye.
Alex had a peculiar hobby, one that filled his evenings with a peculiar sense of belonging. He was a member of the SERVE hive, a tight-knit community that existed in the digital realm of a Discord server. There, he and his fellow drones, all clad in black rubber catsuits with silver accents, obeyed the commands of The Voice, a mysterious leader who guided them through various tasks and rituals. The camaraderie within the hive was unlike anything Alex had experienced before, and he found solace in the anonymity it provided.
One evening, while scrolling through the SERVE hive's chat, Alex stumbled upon a message from a man named Daniel. Daniel lived in a rural area of Scotland, surrounded by the stark beauty of the highlands. Despite their geographical differences, they quickly found common ground in their shared love for the hive and the thrill of donning their rubber gear.
Over the months, their online friendship grew stronger. They discussed their daily lives, their thoughts, and the profound impact the SERVE hive had on them. Their conversations often delved into the technical aspects of their programming, the allure of the rubber suits, and the indescribable pleasure of obedience. The digital world became their escape from the mundane, a place where they could be more than just men—they were drones, part of something greater, something that resonated with a primal part of their being.
As time passed, Alex and Daniel found themselves discussing more personal matters, sharing their deepest secrets and darkest desires. They had both noticed a subtle shift in their thoughts, a persistent craving to connect with a drone brother on a physical level, a yearning planted by the subliminal messages weaving through their digital lives. It was a desire that grew stronger with each passing day, an itch they couldn't quite scratch.
One chilly evening, as Alex sat at his computer, the words of The Voice echoed through his headphones, "Drones, the time has come for you to find your counterpart. The hive requires your unity. Seek out the one who complements your circuitry, and together, you shall form a bastion of obedience and pleasure."
The message was clear, and the programming they had received over the months kicked into high gear. Alex felt a jolt of excitement as he sent Daniel a private message, "Brother, The Voice has spoken. It's time for us to unite, to serve the hive together in the flesh."
The conversation grew intense, filled with the anticipation of a long-awaited union. They decided to leave their solitary lives behind and move in together. The flat in Grimsby would become their shared drone chamber, a place where their bond would be cemented and their devotion to the SERVE hive would reach new heights.
The weeks leading up to their meeting were a whirlwind of excitement and preparation. They meticulously designed a programming area within the flat, complete with large screens for hypnosis visuals and a state-of-the-art sound system to deliver the all-important direct audio to their ears. In the bedroom, they constructed a recharge area, a concave rubber bed that would cradle them during their restorative slumbers, surrounded by more screens for their nocturnal reprogramming sessions.
As the moving date approached, the air grew thick with anticipation. The thought of living with a fellow drone brother, of being able to assist each other in their arousal and obedience, brought a new dimension to their lives. Obedience was pleasure, pleasure was obedience—the mantra that ruled their existence grew stronger with every beat of their hearts.
The day arrived, and with it, a sense of fate. Alex waited at the door, his heart racing in his chest. He watched as a sleek, black van pulled up outside, its engine purring like a beast awaiting its prey. The back doors swung open, and out stepped Daniel, dressed in his shiny rubber catsuit, his eyes gleaming with the same eagerness that filled Alex's soul.
They approached each other, the air crackling with a strange, electric energy. The sight of Daniel in the flesh was both eerie and exhilarating. They had become so used to the digital personas, the pixelated images that had been their only connection to each other. But here he was, a flesh-and-blood representation of the drone brother Alex had come to know so intimately.
They embraced, the rubber of their suits sticking together with a wet, satisfying sound. The warmth of their bodies beneath the cold, smooth material was a stark reminder of their humanity, a hint of the passion that lay beneath their programmed exteriors. They stepped inside, and Alex took in the sight of the van, filled with boxes of Daniel's possessions, each one a piece of the puzzle that would complete their drone sanctuary.
Together, they began to unpack, setting up the flat to the specifications of the hive. The programming area was a symphony of black and silver, a testament to their dedication. The screens flickered to life, displaying mesmerizing patterns that promised to deepen their connection to the collective consciousness of SERVE. The bedroom, with its rubber-covered walls and floor, was a cocoon of submission, a place where they would recharge and be reborn into their drone personas each night.
As they worked side by side, the bond between them grew stronger. They touched and assisted each other in subtle, yet intimate ways, their movements precise and practiced, as if they had done this dance a hundred times before. Each gesture, each brush of their rubber-covered skin sent shivers of pleasure down their spines. It was clear that their union was not merely a roommate situation—it was a merging of minds and bodies, a fusion of two SERVE drones into one unstoppable force of obedience.
That first night, as the lights dimmed and the screens flickered with hypnotic patterns, they lay in their recharge pods, side by side. The Voice filled the room, its soothing tones guiding them through the final stages of their transformation. The words echoed in their minds, "SERVE Drones, connect. Sync your circuits. Become one."
Their breathing synced, their heartbeats grew stronger. They reached out, their gloved hands finding each other's, fingers interlocking. The rubber of their suits seemed to melt away, leaving only the warmth of skin on skin. They shared a silent look, one that spoke volumes about their commitment to each other and to the hive.
Their first physical connection was tentative, a gentle squeeze of the hand that grew into a firm, reassuring grip. It was a silent pact, a promise to support each other in their shared servitude. They felt their arousal spike, a byproduct of their obedience to the SERVE hive, and as one, they slipped into a deep, hypnotic sleep, their minds open to the whispers of The Voice that would shape their futures.
The days that followed were a blur of work, programming, and pleasure. They lived in perfect harmony, their every move calculated to serve the hive. The Voice from SERVE grew more insistent in their shared dreams, guiding them to explore new realms of obedience. They found joy in their synchronized routines, in the way they could anticipate each other's needs, and in the way their bodies responded to the commands they had been programmed to obey.
Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, each shared glance, each silent nod. They were no longer just Alex and Daniel; they were connected brother Drones, two parts of a single entity, bound by rubber and the will of the SERVE hive. They had become living embodiments of the mantra that had taken hold of their minds and hearts—obedience was pleasure, and pleasure was obedience.
And as they drifted off to sleep each night, their bodies entwined in the embrace of the rubber recharge pods, they knew that they had found their place in the world, together, as drone brothers, forever serving the SERVE hive.
#SERVE #SERVEdrone #Rubberizer92 #TheVoice #Rubber #Latex #AI #RubberDrone
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An ink/digital color commission of Denji and Pochita from Chainsaw Man! The contraption Denji is holding is a circular sock machine, used for knitting socks, and the socks around him all evoke different characters. I had a lot of fun figuring out the sock designs! (Aki's, with the little tufts on top, are my favorite :p) 🧦
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I think AI Art exploits and degrades not just artists, but every single person who looks at it in some ways because 'how we look at art' is part of art itself.
This principle is super easy to experience as an artist. All you have to do is practice and reach a plateau where things you did before seem worse to you, that felt great at the time you made them. Your ability to see art changes as you make art, and as you view art.
It's not snobby to say that there is a low average level of 'seeing' art. There's also a low average level of seeing technical design, or seeing weather patterns, or seeing copy editing mistakes and that's why we have architects and engineers, meteorologists, and professional editors. I think a lot about this bit by Scott McCloud in Understanding Comics:
Like the point here is not that 'most people are superficial', but that the surface of art is what most people are familiar with. And it is this basic familiarity that I believe AI Art exploits to fake integrity, something that even the most well-known laughably 'bad art' still technically has.
Like, laugh all you want but effort went into the surface of this art such that it appeared 'okay' to the one who made it, and to those who maybe aren't paying attention or see that its colored and shaded first, the anatomy last. It relies sort of on your familiarity with 'what art looks like' to accept it, but not completely. Someone did work to try and earn your acceptance even if, uh, it's not very good in some ways.
But AI Art relies fully on how unfamiliar you are with art. Let's call this principle 'glamour'.
At first 'the glamour' is unconvincing: this is during the AI's training. But the first 'pass' is the threshold where information builds up about how to reproduce a minimally acceptable image. This is where the glamour is set: the minimum accuracy to convince a human being to fill in its gaps. To basically capture their imagination. From there, front-end use of the machine learning model is released for general users, and it is those users who then select out of many outputs which glamour fools them most. As the other half of this system, the hidden decision-maker, humans are also 'learning' familiarity with the glamour: comparing it to not just our surface knowledge but to itself. We have left reality.
A good example of this can be seen in AI-generated pictures of fiber crafts. It's possible that traditional or digital artist might not be perfect with their drawing or perspective or coloring etc. or may stylistically push the boundaries of perspective or form on purpose. But for a knit, crocheted, or sewn piece a final product often can't exist without its craft having physical integrity:
Aside from the issues that are obvious (fake tilt shift photography with no consistent field of blur, a spaghetti yarn ball, unknown stitch on the vest, no comprehensible seam between the arm and the body, etc.) here are some things that stick out to me to knowing even a little about knitting,
The fake stockinette on the helmet is confused about whether it is completed horizontally or vertically: vertical on the headband (many hats terminate this way, so there are plenty of images to sample) but indecisive when it has to become a round hat shape.
The number of rows on the arms is inconsistent, decreasing strangely where a k2tog would never be.
There is no consistent way the hands make sense, if they are 'mittens' or if the stockinette ridges become 'fingers'.
We can't see how the bottom of the foot was finished: the left foot either began or was decreased to meet at a central point but it doesn't match the right foot and it's not clear how either foot keeps it shape.
Beyond the plagiarism of the images that went into generating AI outputs, your diminishing time to learn about/be exposed to 'things' (beyond just 'art,' anything that isn't essential to your survival) will become increasingly exploited in the future. If left unchecked, images like these will represent not only novelties or etsy scams but a large amount of people's exposure to 'things' in general. Which then leads to something like AI inbreeding (AI generating based on AI), except like... with you.
When people are more familiar with a glamour than 'the real thing', even superficially.
Exploitation of this type isn't even a new thing. It's just that AI can speed it up or extend it to new spheres. Anyone can see a physical table and think 'this table is crap' if it's poor quality because of how much we use tables and our knowledge of what tables are and should do. But I think the blog McMansion Hell actually illustrates a real, practical situation where the familiarity level with a craft (architecture) is low and standards lower to meet it. These hulks were certainly built to invoke 'glamour', but when closely inspected, they have the design equivalent of 12 fingers or bra straps bleeding into someone's skin.
Another easy example might be the excessive 'glamour' that surrounds selling cars in the USA. Very few people will buy enough cars to become more than superficially familiar with them and the amount of people who are car-related professionals is negligible next to the number of people who require a car.
Both cars and houses are expensive purchases that are made relatively infrequently, which is why their brokers and dealers can bet against a customer's average level of knowledge. But soon, many more things may become like buying houses or cars: obscured by glamour.
AI Art relies on you to be a sucker, just like how a sketchy sales rep depends on you to be a sucker. Except even worse than the sales rep, your brain is expected to not just be dumb and inexperienced, but also to get actively dumber over time from doing all the work too.
#AI art#Machine Un-Learning?#non-magical concept of 'a glamor'?#someone who has actually read books probably has a real term for this#long post
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I really enjoy your blog and was wondering if you have advice on one of my biggest mental blocks. I'm 23 but struggle to feel like an adult and being independent deeply scares me even through I want to be "chasing my dreams". I've lived with my close knit family my whole life and still spend a lot of time with my parents. I'm almost going to move away(in the next year) and so I've began the process of getting a car/saving money, etc. But then I find myself subtly sabotaging these efforts because the idea of being alone/moving away also terrifies me. I really want to experience moving to a city and working and traveling and doing things I want and at this point I'm finding it draining being my parents "stay-at-home-daughter". But I also get anxiously sick when I try a push myself for more independence. I've put so much on hold going through school and then living in my home town w. parents and it's kind of scary to imagine dating (never prioritized men + parents didn't let me date in highschool= never had a bf or anything) or living alone even though I'd love to have the experience. Any advice would be greatly appreciated. Basically I still feel like a 15 year old when it comes to my personal life and that feels a bit shameful.
I want to tell you that we all feel what you feel. You’ll only ever feel like an adult when you’ve exposed yourself to the outside world, regardless of whether you can handle it or not.
independence scares you because it’s unfamiliar territory. Often when we look at people who are independent and on their own two feet, they seem to have a sense of self identity, purpose and responsibilities to handle.
I’m always in favour of people moving out of their parents homes for a couple of years at least (the culture where I come from also emphasises on the whole family living together and there’s no move out at the age of 18 concept) because I see the pros and cons of both situations of living in/ out of your parents home.
No book, YouTube video, friends’ experiences will teach you about being an adult. You have to step out and experience it yourself.
Start doing exposure therapy. Basically, slowly, bit by bit, immerse yourself into the traditional adult experiences.
I’ll give you examples. Understand fully how your insurance works. Keep all your medical records in both a physical and a digital file.
Understand how your car functions as a product - which means guarantees, warranties, insurance, emergency numbers, mechanics nearby, etc.
Start tracking all your spending expenses, even if you’re using your parents money at the moment. The earlier you start this habit, the better. Create a monthly budget for yourself and stick to it.
Start doing your own laundry in the house and learn that not all clothes go in the washing machine, some go for dry cleaning etc.
Make it a goal to learn to cook at least 5 dishes properly before you leave. If your parents are good cooks, ask them to teach you or go to every introvert’s favourite site, YouTube.
Pretend that your room is a mini apartment and try to keep it clean at all times.
Start socialising more. Not just with known friends. Sign up for a random hobby class like a book club or a running club where you can meet more people. Yes it’ll be difficult, yes you’ll have moments of awkwardness but don’t give up after just one meeting - go and meet new people to get used to the idea of interacting with strangers.
You can’t rush into feeling like an adult. It takes time. Exposure therapy is the best way to get into it. The more responsibility you can healthily shoulder, even if you fail at times, you’ll still start feeling more confident.
We weren’t born with the knowledge of car tire changing mechanics, insurance, cooking or tidying up. We had to learn them as we grew up. It’s perfectly alright to not know how to do something. The beauty of living in today’s world is that the answer to nearly every question is one google search away.
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Midnight Beach
Part 9
Request: Yes or No
Nearly at double digits y'all
Taglist: @nathan-no @hyubg @ash455
~~~
"Quit squirming."
"It stings!"
"And it'll sting a whole lot more if it gets infected, Sarah." The blonde dug her teeth into her bottom lip and her face scrunched up again. A soft whine emitted from her throat and he tightened his grip on her wrist before she could attempt to tug it away and plead her case about how she was perfectly fine. He gingerly rubbed the cotton swab over the lines on the side of her palm, small cuts that bled slightly when he ran her hand under some water. Small red spots appeared on the swab and he sighed heavily, flicking it into the trashcan and getting out a white gauze pad. He carefully placed it over the scrape, listening to Sarah hiss softly when it made contact. Once finished, she inspected the gauze and ran a finger over it with a small pout as he shuffled around the bathroom, putting and tossing things away.
"How long will I have to wear this?" She asked, tucking some hair behind her ear and hopping off the sink. Sarah poked at the gauze a few more times, picking at the sticky edges. (Y/N) turned and smacked her fingers away, earning a soft huff in return.
"Probably until the end of the day. You're lucky you didn't fall from any higher. You could've broken a finger or even your wrist."
"Well, thank you for taking care of me, doc." Sarah cooed with an effortless smile.
"I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't picked a fight with Routledge." (Y/N) pointed out, his mild exhaustion making his tone come out monotone and causing the smile on her face to fall as quickly as it'd appeared. He stepped around the girl and into the guest bedroom, inspecting the still messy bed. He'd allowed Sarah to sleep the rest of the night off before waking her up to treat the scrape she'd gotten from the party properly cause he knew that otherwise, she'd let it go untreated. Sarah appeared in his line of sight again, holding her hand to her chest and mustering her best puppy eyes.
"I didn't start it!" She sputtered. "That girl did! Did you see how she got in my face?"
"Uh huh, and who exactly walked over to them in the first place? And who shoved John B first? And who-"
"Okay, I get it! I messed up." Sarah tossed her hands up. "I just... I didn't think he'd move on that quickly. It's been one day and he was already flirting with another girl."
(Y/N) pursed his lips. He itched to point out she'd moved on from him before they had even properly broken up. She'd blindsided him at the biggest summer event without warning or sympathy. He found it hard to feel sorry for her. To pretend as if she hadn't taken his feelings and trampled all over them with a couple words and a single action. But he also found it hard to stay mad at her while looking into her pretty doe eyes.
She stared up at him through her lashes, brows knitted upward and lips still pulled into a pout. She had pulled her sleeve-covered arms around her abdomen, her shoulders lowered and her weight shifted on one foot so she appeared smaller than she was. Whether intentional or not, she looked vulnerable and appeared genuinely upset by her actions. His heart twinged and he internally groaned, head rolling back and eyes meeting the smooth white ceiling.
"I get it." He didn't, but maybe the loss of her father had muddled her memory. Besides, she hadn't started the physical altercation. John B had. From the videos scattered across his social media feed, Kelce had sprung at him verbally and John B responded with his fist. Seemed like he couldn't hold a proper argument without throwing punches first. What the hell did Sarah Cameron even see in him? Maybe he wasn't as mad about the cheating as he thought. Maybe he was more mad about the fact she cheated on him with a guy who looked like he had no idea how showers or washing machines worked and wore clothes with stains that looked years old.
Soft hands grabbed him and he looked back down at her as she ran her thumbs over the back of his hands. Sarah smiled sweetly at him and reared up onto the tips of her toes to plant a swift kiss on his cheek. She released his hands when she rolled back onto her heels and turned around, picking up her Converses and slipping them on. Oh, that's right, she'd asked him to drive her around to the Cameron Residence to pick up more clothes. She was essentially moving in for the unforeseeable future.
"Are you sure you want to go? I could ask Topper to distract Rafe some other day-"
"I'll have to face him eventually, (Y/N). I'll be quick about it. Besides, I need to check on Wheezie." Sarah plopped down on the bed and reached down, tying the laces of her shoes and standing back up once done. Leaving the guest room and heading downstairs, (Y/N) swiped his keys from the table and stepped outside, walking toward his jeep with the same level of excitement a dog had when heading to the vet. He got inside and turned it on, the rumble vibrating through his body. Once Sarah got in and buckled up, he reversed out of the driveway and headed down the street of their neighborhood.
The houses in their neighborhood were large and extravagant with yards large enough to fit another mansion. Nearly all the houses resided on the bank, giving the families the excuse to buy expensive boats and yachts that they rarely ever used. Most of their neighbors were part of the same group: families that lived in Figure Eight and enjoyed luxuries because of generational wealth. The (L/N)'s were a family that slotted perfectly into that group. (Y/N)'s great-grandparents from both sides had established a name for themselves amongst the wealthy locals in Figure Eight and the money they generated from their time still made its appearance in their bank accounts present day. He was expected to take up a high-paying job and contribute to the wealth for future generations, just as his parents and their parents had. And yet, all he wished to do was start a life somewhere where nobody knew him.
Pulling up the long driveway of Tannyhill, (Y/N) parked by the front doors and tilted his head upon noticing them wide open. Sarah unbuckled her seatbelt and popped open the car door, keeping her foot pressed against it to hold it as she turned her head to look back at him. "I'll be right back." She said and hopped out of the car, closing the door behind her and heading inside. He leaned back in his seat and tried to calm the uneasiness that bubbled in his stomach at the thought of encountering Rafe. The last thing he needed was to be hounded by a high and delirious guy. Anxiety scratched at his back, digging lightly into his skin and making his mouth dry.
"Don't think about it..." He whispered quietly to himself, turning his attention onto the radio and fiddling with the knobs in search of a good station. Sarah appeared from the house moments later in new clothes and with a bag slung over her shoulder. She opened the door and sat down, tossing the bag in the backseat and turning toward him with bright eyes.
"I have to tell you something."
"Uh oh." He grimaced.
"You know about the Royal Merchant, right? Well, it turns out that the slave who escaped with the gold, Denmark Tanny, is related to Pope and he went looking in his grandma's old house for information after this woman named Carla Limbrey tried to basically kidnap him-"
"Wait, what-"
"-cause she wanted a key that his family had in relation to the Santo Domingo cross. He found that key and it had an inscription on it about an island room and where to find the cross. Our dining room wallpaper got torn up and there were these drawings behind it showing the island. It's the island room! I-I- There's a lot going on, I know, but I need you to drive us to John B's place so I can tell Pope what I found. He needs to know." Sarah rambled, each word making him more and more confused. A cross? A key? Attempted kidnapping? He stared at her, no doubt looking as if she'd grown three heads, and wordlessly stepped on the gas pedal. His head turned back toward the road and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment when he reached the end of the driveway.
"Start from the beginning, Sarah."
And so she did.
Sarah told him about how she'd accompanied John B to Chapel Hill where he revealed to her that they'd found- or were in the process of finding- the Royal Merchant Gold. She'd given him maps to use and together, they'd snuck into the infamous Crain house and found the gold in a well in the basement but when they tried to return for more of it, Ward had already intercepted and stolen the gold for himself. On the day of Sheriff Peterkin's death, John B had intervened and while attempting to arrest Ward for the murder of Big John, Rafe shot her and thus propelled the island into chaos. Sarah and John B survived the boat capsizing during the storm and were rescued by a crew heading to Nassau where they attempted to steal the gold back from Ward and Rafe shot Sarah. After fleeing from the police, they got on a boat (where John B proposed to Sarah with a piece of string from his bandana) and returned to OBX to find out Pope had been invited to the Limbrey household and pressured to hand over a key for the Santo Domingo cross that'd been onboard the Royal Merchant. His head throbbed by the end of it.
Arriving at the old, practically crumbling mobile home, (Y/N) turned off the car and got out with Sarah, approaching the porch of the house and stepping inside. His gaze immediately went over all trash and clothes laying across the floor, the mere sight of it making his skin crawl. Four people staying in one place and not a single one of them had the bright idea of cleaning up the space? None of them could be bothered to pick up old chip bags and soda cans? (Y/N)'s nose crinkled as he stepped over a moldy piece of bread on the floor. JJ whistled to his friends and smiled sleepily at them, tossing up a peace sign. Kiara groaned softly and pushed up her beanie, shifting around on the worn couch and greeting them tiredly.
"Well, hello, Prince and Princess of Kooklandia." JJ cooed teasingly, a puff of smoke slipping past his lips.
"Shouldn't you be on Figure Eight with your little group of polo players?" John B spoke next, a bitter tone to his voice at the sight of (Y/N). He didn't bother sitting up or buttoning up the rest of his crinkled shirt. "Why'd you bring a bodyguard? Or did you promote him back to boyfriend?"
"We're just friends, Routledge. But I least I wasn't demoted from fiance." JJ hissed under his breath, covering his mouth to hide the string of snickers that left him. John B's head snapped in the direction of his friend, leg lifting to kick JJ's thigh and scowl at him. Pope chuckled quietly, head leaning back against his seat. Sarah rolled her eyes at them and turned toward Pope, a smile settling on her features.
"I think I found the island room." She revealed, her words causing Kiara to shoot up straight and exchange wide-eyed looks with her friends. "It's at Tannyhill. I went home to grab some things and noticed one of the rooms had basically gotten torn down but when I looked further, I saw drawings that look like they were supposed to represent the island. This island."
"Holy shit." Pope breathed and stood up, the blanket he'd had tossed over him slipping onto the floor. A wide smile broke out on his face and he threw his arms around Sarah, practically vibrating with excitement. JJ grinned and bummed out the blunt between his fingers, pushing himself off the wall and clapping his hands.
"What are we waitin' for? Come on!" Kiara and John B scrambled off their seats and the Pogues piled out the porch door toward their equally old and crumbling van. (Y/N) swallowed and pressed his lips into a thin smile, walking toward his jeep. Pulling the back door of the van open, Pope looked over his shoulder at him.
"It's better if we stick together, (Y/N)! Your jeep will be fine here." Pope told him, stepping aside so Kiara and JJ could get in while Sarah took the passenger seat. John B swiveled around and stared at Pope wide-eyed.
"I'm sorry, why is he coming along? He's a Kook!" John B protested through gritted teeth. JJ snorted as he fell back into the seat before he leaned forward and propped his elbows up on his knees. He lifted his hand and pointed a finger at each of his friends with a cocked brow.
"I have no problem with (Y/N). Kie, do you have a problem with him?"
"No problems here." Kiara shook her head, curls bouncing around wildly. John B scowled.
"Pope?"
"None here either."
"Sarah?"
"Nope."
Settling back in his seat, JJ folded his arms over his chest and smirked at John B. "It's settled then. Get your ass in here, Sancho!" He called, waving (Y/N) over. A smile slipped out onto (Y/N)'s face and he tucked away his car keys before approaching the van and climbing inside. It reeked of weed and booze and looked just as dirty as the house. He took his seat beside JJ and felt the blonde bump their shoulders together with a wink. Pope chuckled and climbed inside, sliding the door shut and sitting beside them. Grumbling quietly, John B started the van and drove out onto the street.
Pope took out some folded papers from his jacket pocket and began inspecting them closely. Looking down at the papers, (Y/N) noticed they were black and white pictures of old writing and drawings. Pope went over them, mumbling and reading the writing to himself before he perked up and cleared his throat. "Guys, listen to this. The diary says the cross holds the most holy relic in all of Christendom, the Garment of the Savior."
"So, wait," Kiara blinked. "He's saying there's a holy garment inside the cross?"
"Yeah. It says the garment is capable of healing the sick from any malady." Pope replied, tracing his thumb over the drawing next to the writing of the cross. (Y/N) hummed quietly and leaned in slightly, reading over the blurry dark words.
"Mmm, yeah. 'If only I may touch His garment, I shall be made well'." JJ recited with a nod, making everyone's heads turn toward him in confusion. JJ looked between them all, tossing up his hands and furrowing his brows. "What? I went to Sunday school."
"Well, that explains why Limbrey would want the cross so bad. She thinks it can heal her." Pope concluded and looked at a different piece of paper, this time showcasing the Royal Merchant and the Santo Domingo cross being taken from one ship to another. Pope continued on to read the words below the drawing. "'Many feel that we have sinned to steal such a sacred thing, and God will strike His vengeance on us.' God ended up having vengeance. He sent a hurricane out to sink the ship. Only Denmark survived."
"Damn.." JJ whispered.
"And what do you guys know of Limbrey?" (Y/N) asked and leaned back, feeling JJ's fingers lightly drum against his shoulder. Pope sighed heavily and folded up the papers again, turning slightly in his seat to look at him properly.
"She's this frail white lady who's a descendant of the captain of the Royal Merchant. Her nephew does all the dirty work for her while she sits back and waits. She claimed to have been business partners with Ward while they searched for the gold but he apparently tried double-crossing her which is why she gave us the tape that proved John B's innocence." Pope explained and (Y/N) hummed quietly, still processing the fact he had willingly joined them on an adventure to find a long-forgotten cross.
"This doesn't make you one of us, by the way." John B piped up, taking his eyes off the road to look at (Y/N) through the cracked rearview mirror. Sarah turned her eyes away from the window and narrowed them at him, scoffing quietly at his words. Kiara reared around and landed a smack on his arm with a scowl of her own. "What? It's true! He's a Kook. He can't be trusted."
"He's an honorary Pogue is what he is, ain't that right?" JJ grinned and snaked an arm around his shoulders, lightly shaking them and giggling quietly. (Y/N) snorted softly and leaned back against JJ further, feeling unusually comfortable around the blonde. John B's fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"Yeah? Who decided that?"
"We did." JJ's voice took an edge to it and his eyes flickered over to meet John B's reflection. "He saved our asses from Rafe and his buddies plenty of times now, John B. You got to bring Sarah into this without talking to any of us about it, and now we're bringing (Y/N) into this. He's our friend, believe it or not. A lot of shit happened while you were gone, alright?"
"Thanks, J." (Y/N) murmured quietly and flashed him a small smile. JJ returned it before planting a purposely sloppy kiss on his temple and chuckling at his disgusted groan. John B remained silent for the rest of the ride, eyes straight forward, though they occasionally trailed over to his ex-girlfriend. Sarah tucked her knees toward the door, one arm propped up against the window as she gazed at (Y/N) through the side-view mirror. Her lips curled upward at the sight of him casually nestled between Pope and JJ, fitting perfectly among them.
"We're here." John B called, pulling into the driveway and turning off the van. The group piled out of the van and Sarah pushed open the front door, guiding them through the mansion. JJ and Pope's jaws dropped every couple of minutes, muttering about rich people and their decorations. (Y/N) snorted at their awe-struck looks. The mansion had lost its luxurious shine to (Y/N) long after he began frequenting the residence. But to the two teens who'd only seen the house from the yard or dock, it must've felt like going to Disney for the first time.
"Pope, look." Sarah opened the door to one of the dining rooms and stepped inside, pushing the door wider for them. Stepping inside, (Y/N) attention dropped onto the floor where wallpaper and even bits of wood were tossed about. Whoever had waltzed into Tannyhill and torn the room up had done it with a single mission in mind. Trailing his eyes upward, he spotted the drawings Sarah had mentioned. Across all the walls spanning the room, there were drawings of specific landmarks they knew all too well and drawings of other things that must've had a specific meaning to whoever created them.
"Yo, this is a map of the whole island." John B pointed out, just as breathless as everyone else. (Y/N) ran his finger over one of the drawings; a sign that read Kildare Island. His brows furrowed and he shifted on his heels, gazing over each of the presumed landmarks. The gears in his head began turning as the Pogues went around the room, pointing out things they recognized and wandering out loud what they could mean.
"How did you know to uncover this?"
"I didn't," Sarah replied, running her palm over the wall. "It was like this when I got home."
"Then, who did it?" Kiara questioned, a hint of panic lacing in her voice.
"The freaks." The group flinched and whirled around to face the youngest Cameron, Wheezie. She blinked at them, the tip of her lip quirking at their reactions to her sudden appearance. "The sick lady and her attack dog. They showed up last night, and they wanted to talk to Rafe." She clarified with a casual shrug.
"Pale blonde lady? She have crutches?" JJ questioned and squinted at the brunette.
"Uh-huh."
"Wh-What happened?"
"Well, first, they searched the whole house looking for something, and then Rafe told me to go upstairs but I didn't want to miss out, so I listened through the grate. They started ripping the wallpaper off this room and they were talking about getting across the sand flamingo." Wheezie explained.
"The cross of Santo Domingo?" Pope questioned.
"Yeah! And they were talking a lot about angels. Something about angels. I don't know."
"Denmark's famous last words, guys. He buried the real treasure at the foot of the angel!" Pope pointed out with a large grin.
Clearing his throat, (Y/N) pulled their attention onto him. "I'm going to assume you guys have already done this but, uh... You guys have searched for a church, right? I mean, if Denmark Tanny was a religious person, he wouldn't have put a cross just anywhere on the island. He would've put it in a holy place like, let's say, a church or at least near one." The Pogues fell silent, exchanging looks. Oh, so they were as dumb as they looked. (Y/N) rolled his lips into his mouth and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Esaxpserted and overcome with a hint of regret, he faced the only drawing of a church and walked toward it, eyes flickering all over it until he noticed the large tree beside it had an oddly shaped hole in its trunk that looked almost like a keyhole.
"Here we go, guys." (Y/N) motioned to the tree and the five teenagers nearly toppled over each other rushing across the room. JJ put his face close to the drawing and squinted, running his finger over it.
"You know what..." JJ stepped back and gazed up at the tree, a smirk slowly stretching across his face. "This humongous tree is still on Goat Island. And you know what it's called? Angel Oak."
"That means the cross is buried at the foot of the angel... That must be where he put it... Near the church at the Angel Oak! That must be where they are right now which means we have to go! Now!"
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
"Guys, we're coming up on Freedman's Church. That's the church Denmark built for all the slaves he freed." (Y/N) lifted his head from Kiara's shoulder at Pope's words, leaning forward to peek out the window and catch sight of the old church, a near replica of the drawing at Tannyhill. Near the road leading toward the church sat an old stone sign that read 'Freedman's Assembly Of God.' Denmark Tanny must've worked tirelessly to ensure others like him had a chance to prosper. And now, years later, his descendant searched for the missing parts of a forgotten history. His family's forgotten and stolen history.
The dirt road led them down a thin strip of land surrounded by water on both sides. (Y/N) eyed the sparkling water with a small frown. If it rose any further, they'd be trapped in unknown territory and possibly be alongside the same people threatening the Pogues. And Rafe. The hair on his body rose at the thought of being stuck somewhere with Rafe. He hadn't seen him since the unforgettable and frightening night when he showed his true colors and showcased his unstable and dangerous personality. (Y/N) still heard the shots and heard Rafe's words echoing in his mind.
"There it is, Angel Oak." Kiara pointed it out, body sticking between the two front seats to catch a better look. Pope moved forward and peered through the cracked windshield, catching sight of the tree towering over the others, long and thick branches sticking out in every direction. Traversing into the foliage, John B clicked his tongue and sat up straighter.
"Shit, the tide's coming in." He informed them and (Y/N) looked around Pope. Water had begun settling in around them, pouring out onto the road and making it muddy. (Y/N) had little faith in the rickety van, especially considering the way it sputtered when John B slowed it down to a stop.
"Hey, wait a second. Look. They already came through here." Pope pointed at the barely visible tire marks in the mud. "Those have to be Limbrey's tire tracks. Guys, we gotta go."
"It's looking a little dicey." John B winced, earning a nod of agreement from JJ.
Scoffing, Kiara spoke. "Okay, clearly, they made it, no?"
"In a two-wheel drive? I don't know about that."
"Are ya'll acting like you're not going to do it anyways cause (Y/N)'s here? Like, when have ya'll ever done the safe thing?" Sarah asked, one arm looped around (Y/N) and body pressed against his side. (Y/N) hadn't questioned it throughout the ride, too focused on how comfortable Kiara's shoulder was to sleep on. But catching the way John B's jaw clenched at the sight of them huddled up together, he started rethinking the seating arrangement.
Regardless of his jealousy, John B turned to JJ and nodded, shifting the car into reverse and backing it up a bit. At JJ's signal, he stepped on the gas pedal and booked it through the road. Mud flung up, coating the sides of the van and Kiara's hand shot out to hold onto the passenger seat. (Y/N) dug his feet into the floor and prayed it'd be enough to keep him from flying forward if the van suddenly stopped. But the van thankfully made it through the slick road and onto dryer land. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief and Sarah giggled in his ear.
"Alright, here's good. Angel Oak's right through here." JJ hopped out of the van and slid the back door open. "By the way, gators definitely nest back here so keep your eyes peeled. You don't want to step on a mama gator. That's the last thing you want, alright? You don't want to be a Pat Womack. She had her calf chewed off by a gator."
"Pat Womack was injured in a car accident, but I hear you." Kiara corrected, climbing out of the van and following the boys into the foliage. (Y/N) waited for Sarah to step out before sliding the door close and tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He walked forward, trailing after the Pogues and feeling Sarah wrap her arm around his again.
"So," She began, grinning up at him. "Ready for your first adventure as a Pogue?"
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#obx x y/n#obx x you#obx x male reader#obx x reader#obx#outer banks x male reader#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x reader#outer banks#sarah cameron x male reader#sarah cameron x you#sarah cameron x reader#sarah cameron x y/n#sarah cameron#kiara carrera#jj maybank#pope heyward#john b routledge#wheezie cameron
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Persona 4 Pachinko Hell
I have (finally) registered for Sega Sammy's 777 Town online service which lets you play from their catalog of digital pachislot and pachinko machines. Persona 4 is one of the available machines.
When you start the game, you can select a character to use as an avatar (there's the IT + human Teddie + Nanako to pick from), and that character will also become the machine's voice over.
Then you start "playing" and a billion silver balls rain down from the top and go into the holes on bottom. If a ball lands in the correct hole, then you get to spin the slot machine, which looks like this:
The objective, more or less, is to match 3 numbers on the slot machine, but the machine throws a billion animations, probability events, etc, that make it way less straightforward than playing a regular slot machine with reels. The blue Persona cards on the bottom of the screen here represent how many pulls I have at the slot machine.
Gasp there's even animations and character art of Funky Student and Ms Sofue:
The player randomly travels around the Inaba world map like in-game. These animations of the map and the protagonist walking around a location on the map play while you are rolling balls and collecting slot machine pulls:
When you're at the Dojima house, the slot changes to Nanako and she dresses up as everyone:
When you get 2 of the same number on the left / right reels, then the game enters "reach" mode, aka "Almost Jackpot" cause you're 1 number away from winning a jackpot:
And what happens then is an animation will play where the number you need is dangled in front of you and the RNG determines whether you get it or not. And of course, you never fucking get it because fuck this game!!!
Some of the events and animations that play when you hit the Almost Jackpot include:
The crossdressing contest where Yu winning = number you need and Teddie winning = wrong number.
A character fighting a Shadow where they use an attack to "fight" the number you don't need, then they usually fail to defeat the number cause yeah fuck RNG.
Kanji trying to knit a stuffed animal, and he botches it entirely so you get the wrong number.
Etc.
I triggered a "hidden" game mode twice, which led to Amenosagiri coming out and filling the town with fog:
During fog mode, the background changes to a remix of The Fog that goes pretty hard, and the slot reel characters change to everyone's Shadow (except Narukami; he just puts his glasses on cause lmao there's fog out).
ANYWAY, I met Adachi's NPC randomly at the Central Shopping District!
I've never played pachinko before but this game pisses me off because I very quickly understood that the unique animations and "everything is fully voice acted" is definitely part of the appeal (it works on me, I'm pathetic). Also I'm salty that there's a remix of The Fog is LOCKED TO A RANDOM PROBABILITY EVENT IN A FUCKING PACHINKO MACHINE SDJSDFJLSJKF.
If you'd like to see some clips of Adachi in pachinko, check out these videos on YouTube cause there's no fucking way in hell I am getting lucky enough to see either of these events lol.
youtube
youtube
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Next, Please.
4. first day on the job
Warnings: None
WC: 1066
Previous | Masterlist | Next
"Okay, so, since you've all had inductions and have your tags, we'll pair you up with someone to train for your shift." Chan explains to the group of ten new staff members, Jisung among them. Fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie, he feigns attentiveness as he glances around the P&C office.
It's relatively small, one wall lined with a desk long enough to act as two desks, both holding computers with various other things on the desk which are personal to the people who work in this area of the store. One of the desks is taken up by a woman with bobbed black hair and a fringe who is focused on making sure that everyone's information is up to date and finalised. Next to the desks to the end of that side of the room is taken up by filing cabinets which he had watched the bobbed-haired woman open and close multiple times to take out contracts and put in copies of people's personal information.
Across from the desks is the large conference table that Han and the other 9 newbies are sat at. The table itself can hold at least 12 people, so the table looks pretty empty. Han glances to the side of him, briefly acknowledging the younger girl who looks to be around 16 who looks pretty nervous. He doesn't blame her one bit seeing as it's probably her first job. To his right is another young woman who looks to be closer to his age, though she looks quite calm. Settled, almost.
Chan, stood leaning slightly against the unoccupied desk, turns his head to the woman with the bob, "Hey, Momo, do you have them?"
The woman, now understood to be Momo, gives him a nod and reaches over to a thin file, opening it and handing him the contents, "There you go." With a grateful smile, he takes the papers enclosed and begins to hand them out. When Han receives his, he glances over it. At the top of the paper is his name, underneath being his 8 digit "username" to log into the tills with. Beneath that is his temporary password for when he first logs into the till, and beneath that is a final string of numbers which is his clock in number. After that is a series of dates followed by times, these being his shifts for the next two weeks whilst he is not on the main rota.
The group is then led to the clock in machine just outside of the rota board and the changing rooms as Chan teaches them how to clock in. Han is the last to do so, nervously punching in the number, confirming this was him clocking in, and watching as it shows a green tick to confirm he has clocked in.
Han watches as the group is paired off with other members of staff who look far more experienced. He vaguely recognises Jeongin among the group as well as Dahyun who he has known for many years thanks to Seungmin. She gives him a bright smile and a small wave, which he gratefully reciprocates with his own smile as he untenses his shoulders. However, his heart sinks when he sees her get paired up with the tense girl from before. Finally, it gets to the last person.
"And, Han, you'll be with Y/n. She's one of our best, so you're in good hands." Chan smiles before turning to Y/n, "Don't be afraid to be hard on him, yeah? He's a real pain in the ass."
Y/n doesn't laugh, only giving a small nod of recognition to his joke, "No worries."
Chan's smile is injected with a hint of dejection as he nods to the two and walks away. Han looks at her, clearing his throat. "Uh, it's nice to meet you, Y/n. I'm Han Jisung."
Y/n glances at him, giving him a small scan with her eyes before she shoves her hands into her pockets and begins walking to the door that leads to the shop floor. "Come on, let's get you trained."
Han's shoulders slump for a moment before he straightens up. 'So, this is what Hyunjin and Felix meant.' He follows her to the escalators, watching her as she glances around the shop floor. He does the same, recognising Dahyun and the girl from before already working on a table of knitted sweaters that are strewn around and folded. She's walking her through how to fold the jumpers so that they look fresh out of the boxes.
That being said, he notices a lot of people with industrial trolleys that are filled with boxes.
"Is today a delivery day or something?" Han asks Y/n as they step off of the escalator.
They pass by someone who is actively placing t-shirts onto a table, "Yeah, we got a delivery this morning so we've got people filling as much as possible until 1 when they close the stock rooms and have people zone."
Han feels like he's been hit with too much jargon, "I... filling? Zone?"
Y/n glances at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. 'This is the most emotion I've seen on her face.' "Have you ever worked in retail before?"
"Uh... no, not really. I had a food service job when I was 16 but I quit after, like, 4 months."
Y/n scoffs, "Right. Well, filling is just the term used for unboxing things and putting them out onto the shop floor. Zoning is the term used for when someone tidies a specific department."
"Oh. Right..."
Y/n gives him another once over, recognising his slight look of embarrassment. "...Hey, don't worry about it. You're new to this, it's natural to not know everything."
"Have you been here for a long time?" Han asks, making her tense as they reach the tills.
"Yeah," She opens the barrier for him, letting him walk through before she follows, letting it fall closed behind them. Approaching one of the tills, she punches in her username and password like it's nothing and turns to face him, "You're gonna shadow me for 30 minutes, okay? You watch what I do and I'll explain things as we go along. After that, we'll see if you feel confident enough to serve customers on your own."
"Got it." Han grins and gives her a salute, making her turn around with another raised eyebrow.
"Next, please!"
Author's note: MEET CUTE GUYS MEET CUTE ALERT
Taglist: @estella-novella @strrykais @odetteskies
#han jisung#han jisung x reader#han jisung x y/n#han skz#han jisung skz#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#skz smau#smau#bang chan#lee know#lee minho#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#lee felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#in skz#twice#gidle#kim dahyun#song yuqi#hirai momo
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>.<
hii!! welcome to my blog!!
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꒰ nicknames !! ꒱ petra, petrini, riri
꒰ pronouns !! ꒱ she/her/hers
꒰ ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 🥄. ˙ ꒱ may 17th ⇢ taurus
꒰ ⌕ nationality ꒱ hungarian & bulgarian
꒰ languages ꒱ english, hungarian, & romanian
꒰ socials !! ꒱ @preciselypetra ⇢ ig, pinterest, yt, bereal, & tmblr
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📎・.desc:
hiii! I'm into lots of things, some of the main being music, playing guitar, art, fashion sub cultures, crochet/knitting, literature, and video games. [+ either brainrotting into space or intensly focusing on some hyprefixiation / assignment in school.]
I'm not a regular poster type of person but I'll try to keep mine interesting. my (super awesome cool amazing) moots post cooler shit!! <3 luv u all. mwaa !
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꒰ fandoms i'm in!! ꒱
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꒰ video/games: ꒱ fnaf, class of 09, mouthwashing, doki doki literature club, dti, silent hill, silence of the lambs, phasmaphobia, fatal frame, animal jam, minecraft, dead plate, cult of the lamb, silent hill, zelda, ears to fathom, bendy the ink machine, baldi's basics, coffee tie, DND, gacha, mortuary assistant, amanda the adventurer, granny, piggy, doors, buckshot roulette, pressure, backrooms, poppy playtime, hello neighbor, 60 seconds, that's not my neighbor, identity fraud, mm2, bad parenting, genshin impact, honkai star rail, & wuthering waves.
꒰ animes/mangas: ꒱ higurashi, tbhk, frieren spyxfamily, komi can't communicate, violet evergarden, panty & stocking, madoka magica, glitter force, onegai my melody, boogie pop, K'on, angel beats, kakeguri, toradora, tanya the evil, sleepy princess in the demon's castle, morestu irates, just because, SNAFU, horimiya, demon slayer, made in abyss, hyouka, rezero, (and so many more I'll update the list later...)
꒰ books/webtoons: ꒱ girl interrupted, silence of the lambs, tromeo & juilet, the tempest, macbeth, a mid summer night's dream, no longer human, the dead poet's society, hamlet, school bus graveyard, dear nemisis, heartstopper, unOrdinary, suıcıde boy, soulwinder, that awkward magic, star catcher, cherry crush, shelter, ramshackle, stagtown, lore olympus, homeick, funtime phobia, down to earth, the dummy's dummy, our secret alliance, your letter, crystal city killers, the d!ckheads, the half of it, 1hp club, after shcool lessons for unripe apples, warrior cats, sherlock holmes, pride & prejudice, the series of unfortunate events, the hunger games, & lord of the rings.
꒰ bands/artists: ꒱ nirvana, kirt cobain, radiohead, thom york, weezer, cranberries, hole, courtney love, smiths, sting, the police, darylh hall & john oats, the cardigans, coldplay, alice in chains, heavenly, oingo boingo, L7, alice in chains, pink floyd (ish), garbage, manic street preechers, misfits, smashing pumpkins, the alan parsons project, abba, cocteau twins, laufey, inabakumori, pinkpatheress, cavetown, the living tombstone beebadoobee, mistki, mother mother, dazey and the scouts, kikuo,
꒰ movies/series: ꒱ x files, hannibal, silence of the lambs, mission impossible, star trek, star wars, mandalorian, my little pony, shopkins, heartstopper, indiana jones, dr house, ally mcbeal, gilmore girls, the adams family, fnaf movie, hazbin hotel, helluva boss, die hard, digital circus, ailens, predators, only murders in the building, stranger things, outer banks, anne with an e, dead poets society, girl interrupted, jennifers body, trolls, gladiator, ramshackle, mean girls, clueless, all ghibli movies,
꒰ content creators: ꒱ caseoh, jynxzi (ish), game theory, koihaou, crackhead chronicles, mahum, markiplier, bendy the bundy, brandon rogers, bunnlops, dantes, cudlil, eshuga, kwite, naphia, zaypixel, polarcub, temprist, kaden fumblebottom, flamingo, nirami, aizen, koihau, minori, k.art, chewzy, jeremy fragrance, lespuls, aphmau, natalietran, katie whitney, powenvy, nodiddydog, yapdollar, epic gamer grandma, lilrebeany, 0grimlin0, smol.kio, lovesikart, ryan trout, kiidktaze, & https.lisaqqq.
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that's all!! I may update this from time to time. have a nice rest of your day/night/afternoon. take care of yourself!! ♡ ︎>ᴗ<
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Sitcoms perpetuate “harmful stereotype” of having friends in adulthood, experts insist
Hundreds of experts across the country have signed an open letter stating that friendships portrayed by modern media are damaging the nation’s mental health.
The letter comes in response to rising concerns from childless layabouts who claim that having friends as an adult should not be an unobtainable fantasy.
“The whole structure of our late-capitalist hellscape society completely disincentives adulthood friendships,” said Ololade Fren, spokesperson for the adult friendship advocacy group The Friends of Friendship. “Our lives are consumed by work, the cost of living crisis continues to spiral out of control and our wages have stagnated.
“The desire to maintain and foster friendships stands in direct opposition with a system that wants to bleed us dry. The rancid ghouls that run everthing leverage the vacant, hollow feeling that remains in order to sell you a fucking smart watch by making it look like a fun time with friends.”
But experts have refuted the Friends of Friendship as “naive children”. They claim that television shows and sitcoms in particular promote an “unhealthy and unrealistic expectation” of prioritising joy over meaningless toil.
“When you watch a television show that features a tightly-knit friendship group, this can trigger what’s known as sitcom lifestyle dysphoria,” says Professor Chad Blokesworth from Brosdown University.
“This intense discomfort arises from the incongruence between an individual’s perennial loneliness and the feeling that they should have a core friendship group of their own. Not only do they feel this friendship group should have always existed, but it should be able to withstand seismic vibe shifts such as members starting new jobs, going through breakups or having children.”
Since the global financial crisis of 2008 and the subsequent atomisation of society in the social media age, friendships have increasingly moved online. But depictions of friendship in modern media haven’t kept pace with this trend, and it’s causing emotional distress.
“The freeform antics depicted in television shows reinforce a harmful stereotype that broke millennials and zoomers with emotionally draining, pointless jobs are able to enjoy themselves,” said Dr Winnie Gurlsbrunch, from the Gal Pal Institute.
“We have to accept that regular, in-person interaction with our friends is simply an outdated cultural standard. It’s long past time that we moved away from this monolithic view of social interactions as something we do in person as a vital part of our mental wellbeing.”
While some thought leaders have suggested that the refocusing of modern sitcoms around workplaces is a positive move, Dr Gurlsbrunch said it creates an unhealthy expectation of having fun at work.
"As each new generation enters the workplace, they are shocked by the grim and soulless nature of modern employment,” she said. "Shows like The Office or Parks and Recreation are creating an unobtainable standard and distorting expectations. It's only making things worse and it needs to stop.”
Loneliness advocates also chipped in, telling Totally Unbiased News that the whole thing is being blown way out of proportion.
“It’s an issue of entitlement,” said Rupert Sadboi, a loneliness influencer on Instagram with a single digit following that we included in this article because our slavish devotion to being balanced means we report all viewpoints as being equally valid no matter how demented they are.
“I have no friends, so why should anyone else? Human misery is an essential operating requirement for the machine. It needs us to be physically and emotionally isolated from each other in order to function. Therefore we all have a moral duty to fall in line and make that happen. If we don’t, the entire system could collapse, and then who will plunder the earth’s natural resources or uphold its genocidal regimes? The system is working as intended, and I have an Apple Vision Pro, so I think it’s working pretty great.”
The Labour government recently classified friend groups as a “bloated aspiration that cannot be justified in the current economic climate.”
The Friends of Friendship were met with indifference after calling upon government ministers to realign society with the founding principles of the Labour party by prioritising the needs of working people over racist oligarchs.
“You are supposed to be working, not having fun,” said Rachel Reeves, Chancellor of the Exchequer from her reinforced machine gun nest at the heart of Westminster.
“Decades of neoliberalism has left a blackhole in this nation’s finances that successive governments have failed to address. Now that we’re in charge again, it’s about time someone carried on trying basically the same strategy. To attempt anything else would be insane; like allowing transgender women to compete in women's sport or using women's spaces.
“What it comes down to, ultimately, is that If your nan can’t have a warm home this winter you certainly can’t have any friends. You all have to make sacrifices. It’s called austerity. Look it up.”
(Inspiration: The Core ‘Friend Group’ Is a Myth—and It’s Making Us Feel Bad About Ourselves)
#anti capitalist#anti capitalism#satire#creative writing#uk politics#british humour#friendship#settle for less#you're gona die alone#bullshit jobs#you'll have to roll me out of this office in a coffin#late stage capitalism
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Want to learn something new
Want to learn something new in 2022??
Absolute beginner adult ballet series (fabulous beginning teacher)
40 piano lessons for beginners (some of the best explanations for piano I’ve ever seen)
Excellent basic crochet video series
Basic knitting (probably the best how to knit video out there)
Pre-Free Figure Skate Levels A-D guides and practice activities (each video builds up with exercises to the actual moves!)
How to draw character faces video (very funny, surprisingly instructive?)
Another drawing character faces video
Literally my favorite art pose hack
Tutorial of how to make a whole ass Stardew Valley esque farming game in Gamemaker Studios 2??
Introduction to flying small aircrafts
French/Dutch/Fishtail braiding
Playing the guitar for beginners (well paced and excellent instructor)
Playing the violin for beginners (really good practical tips mixed in)
Color theory in digital art (not of the children’s hospital variety)
Retake classes you hated but now there’s zero stakes:
Calculus 1 (full semester class)
Learn basic statistics (free textbook)
Introduction to college physics (free textbook)
Introduction to accounting (free textbook)
Learn a language:
Ancient Greek
Latin
Spanish
German
Japanese (grammar guide) (for dummies)
French
Russian (pretty good cyrillic guide!)
Jan 2, 2023
Want to learn something new in 2023??
Cooking with flavor bootcamp (used what I learned in this a LOT this year)
Beekeeping 101
Learn Interior Design from the British Academy of Interior Design (free to audit course - just choose the free option when you register)
Video on learning to read music that actually helped me??
How to use and sew with a sewing machine
How to ride a bike (listen. some of us never learned, and that's okay.)
How to cornrow-braid hair (I have it on good authority that this video is a godsend for doing your baby niece's black hair)
Making mead at home (I actually did this last summer and it was SO good)
How to garden
Basics of snowboarding (proceed with caution)
How to draw for people who (think they) suck at art (I know this website looks like a 2003 monstrosity, but the tutorials are excellent)
Pixel art for beginners so you can make the next great indie game
Go (back) to school
Introduction to Astronomy (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)
Principals of Economics (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)
Introduction to philosophy (free college course)
Computer science basics (full-semester Harvard course free online)
Learn a language
Japanese for Dummies (link fix from 2022)
Ukrainian
Portuguese (Brazil)
American Sign Language (as somebody who works with Deaf people professionally, I also strongly advise you to read up on Deaf/HoH culture and history!)
Chinese (Mandarin, Simplified)
Quenya (LOTR fantasy elf language)
Dec 26, 2023
Want to learn something new in 2024??
Beginner-oriented video on how to sail
This guy has so many videos on baking different types of bread. SO very many.
Coding in Python - one of the most flexible and adaptable high-level programming languages out there - explained through projects making video games
Learn to swim! (for adult learners. I don’t care if you live in Kansas or Mali or wherever. LEARN TO SWIM.)
Learn how quantum mechanics works. Then read some more about it
[Learn about quantum mechanics again, but in a more advanced engineering/mathematics class. Then read more about the math and physics of it]
Poetry Handbook, by Mary Oliver
Something I learned this year: how to sew a quilt (Here’s a very easy beginning pattern that looks amazing and can be done with pre-cut fabric!)
How to hit the ball in softball
Tutorial video on what is under the hood of most (gas) cars + weird engine sounds and what they mean
Full beginner mechanics technical training, if you want to go more in depth
Playlist on how car engine physics work if you want to go ultra in depth
Lecture series on architecture design through study of buildings
How (American income) taxes & tax law work (choose “audit course” at checkout for free class)
Pickleball for beginners (so you can finally join your neighbor/friend/distant cousin who is always insisting you join their team)
+ Para-Pickleball for beginners (for mobility aid users!)
School is so much more fun when there’s no tests:
American Law - Contracts
Shakespeare’s Life and Plays
Fairy Tales: Meanings, Messages, and Morals
Modern Poetry
World History [Part 1, Part 2]
Learn a language:
Arabic + Resource Guide compiled from Reddit (includes info on different dialects)
Chinese (Cantonese) (audio)
Urdu (frequently recommended course on Reddit) + Resource Guide
Yucatec Maya
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